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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.

info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.

word count: 3k

tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.

Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.

As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.

His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.

Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.

It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."

"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."

"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."

Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..." your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."

A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.

"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"

Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.

No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.

Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.

"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."

You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.

As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.

"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)

"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"

"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)

In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.

Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.

"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)

His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.

The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.

"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"

"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"

"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.

Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.

He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.

"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"

You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.

"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."

Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."

"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."

"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)

He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."

It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.

Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.

"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."

"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."

Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.

Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.

You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.

"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."

"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."

"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."

Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"

"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"

You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"

"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."

With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.

Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.

"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."

His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"

You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"

"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."

With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.

Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."

He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."

You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"

"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."

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a-b-riddle · 2 days

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Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #grovel #we love a good grovel don't we girls

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allfearstofallto · 2 months

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Quality Time - head canon drabbles

Yandere! Forced Marriage x Fem! Reader

Ft: Scaramouche and Childe

How your yanderes spend time with you

Scaramouche

“Wrong again,” he muttered beneath his breath, and you felt yourself tense at his anger.

“I apologize, my lord,” you responded quickly. It was like second nature for you. He never truly accepted your apologies, but it made your punishments less harsh.

He insisted that once a week he'd spend time with you. Although, the time was never doing what you liked. He wanted you to learn more skills that would make you seem sophisticated, things he said were skills he learned himself. Tea ceremonies, kimono dressing, and his personal favorite, calligraphy.

Scaramouche would sit you in his lap, with a low table in front of you. You thought it was some sort of perverted ploy to touch you more, but he genuinely seemed more interested in the writing. Or interested in you learning to do it.

“Don't apologize, just do better,” he lifted your wrist that had the brush in it and pulled the sleeve of your kimono back, there was a little black ink on the expensive fabric. His fingers were cold, his grip not tight, but threatening, “I've told you, you must use your other hand to hold the sleeve, or it'll drag through the ink.” his eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration as he looked over the garment you'd practically ruined.

“Be glad I love you so much, or I'd keep you in solitary confinement for your repeated mistakes,”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He motioned for you to do it again and you mimicked his motions with your own hand and drew out a character on the parchment. It was borderline ineligible, but it was better than anything you'd done before. He hummed in agreement at your work, wrapping one his arms tighter around your waist.

His other hand reached up to gently pat your head. He called it praise, but you considered it condescending. Despite the fact that you hated it, he did it regardless, your opinions didn't seem to matter to him.

“You did good,” the brush was taken from your hand and he repeated the action, only this time it was more graceful and elegant, “it should look more like this though.”

He kept his hold on you as you continued to write characters for him deep into the night.

Childe

“My my, do those clothes truly suit you,” he could barely keep his hands off of you as the two of you trudged through the snow together.

You rarely went outside when staying in Snezhnaya, you rarely wanted to. But when you did, you were bundled up in thick, heavy garments to combat the cold. More than six layers at that. You wondered what part of you he thought looked good? There wasn't much of you to see anymore, the clothes had eaten you whole.

Childe insisted on taking you hunting with him. You politely declined, but once again, he insisted, and that was just him being polite. What he was really saying was, “Put your boots on, you're coming out with me.”

You were handed your gun, nearly dropping it from the surprise that he was just handing it to you. Amongst all the talking about how to spy tracks and what to do when you had an animal in your sights, the fact that he'd given you a gun never came up. You'd never held one before and also, Childe was your captor. Was he crazy? Stupid? Bulletproof? All of those things sounded plausible.

He walked in front of you as you fell behind. He was more used to this type of thing, snow up to your knees, but you were struggling. Where you were from, it didn't even get cold.

The gun felt heavy in your hands. You wanted to hold it away from your body, but you also wanted to keep it close to you. Childe was just there, walking and talking without a care in the world. And you were behind him. His guard was down, his guard always seemed to be down around you. You could just do it, couldn't you.

You raised the rifle up and held your breath. One thing he actually said and you listened to, was that you needed to be stable when you were shooting. You needed to be firm. Your heart was pumping in your chest, but you didn't let your hands shake. You didn't want to mess this up.

“There are pellets in your gun,” he'd stopped in his tracks, not even trying to look at you while he spoke, “and those definitely do not work on me.”

#genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x you

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 10

part 1 | part 9 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

When they get to Eddie’s trailer, Steve’s mom is sitting on the couch, eyes unblinking as she watches the TV.

There’s just static on the screen.

“Steve?” she slurs when she finally realizes they’re there. Sways a little when she stands. There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, a blank look on her tired face: agreeable but distant, a smudge of campfire smoke curling far over the trees.

Double-dosed her pills again. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, Stevie, baby, it was just awful.” She reaches out for him, and he wishes he could find comfort in the way she cups his elbows with delicate hands. Wishes he could lean into her touch and offer comfort in return, but her tone is so dull and mild that bile rises in his throat. Chemical calm bullshit, and Steve has had enough.

“Ma, just…” he sighs, shrugging her off. Scrubs a hand over his face. Too young and too old for this. “Just go home, okay?” The street is quiet again, all the neighbors tucked back in their houses now that the show has run its course. He doesn’t think anyone will notice her stumbling across the road. “Get some rest. I’ll be over in a bit.”

“Sure, baby.” He leads her to the door, and she turns there on the threshold, eyes glassy and unfocused; looks through him like he’s a ghost. Then her gaze shifts around the room — the hats, the mugs, the clutter; the lived-in explosion of color that Steve’s annoyed he likes so much — like she’s just seeing it all for the first time, and absently, she murmurs, “This place is dreadful, isn’t it?”

“Mom.”

“Hmm?” she asks, but she’s already drifting out the door.

Steve’s face is on fire. He stands there for a moment, just staring dumbly out into the dark. What the hell is wrong with her??

Behind him, Eddie snorts. "Oh, she’s on the good shit, huh?”

Steve whips his head around. Eddie’s eyes are full of mirth, his dimple peeking out, and it startles a laugh out of Steve. He thinks maybe he’d take offense if he weren't so busy being mortified.

But also, like.

It is a little funny.

Or maybe it’s so unfunny that it circles back around.

“Jesus, man,” he huffs, “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why she…”

“S’fine,” Eddie says with a casual flick of his wrist. Seems like he means it. He rocks back on his heels, hands in his back pockets, just sort of eyeing Steve up. Assessing. Running his tongue over his lips. They're big, for a guy's. “…You want a beer?”

“Fuck.” That sounds so nice. “Yeah. Please.”

“Have a seat.”

Steve takes the offer when Eddie nods at the couch, too tired to do the whole song and dance of ‘oh heavens no, I couldn’t possibly impose.’ Who’s got the energy for that?

The couch is old. His skull thuds against the un-cushioned back when he sinks down into it, but he’s too tired to care. Worn out as the lumpy springs under his ass, the frayed fabric beneath his arm. A wave of exhaustion rattles his bones, reverberates in his teeth. He thinks he could sleep for sixteen years.

Eddie clears his throat when he comes back with the beers, a sudden cautiousness about him as he hands Steve an unopened can like Steve might claw him in return.

"Sit down," Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna bite."

Eddie makes a strangled noise. The springs bounce as he plops onto the seat beside Steve, sitting sideways with one leg up on the couch between them, his arm resting on the back. "So, ah...." He gives a wavering chuckle; pulls a lock of hair across his face to hide himself. "Is this the part where I formally apologize for trying to knife you?"

Ugh. No the fuck it isn't. Steve’s too drained for it, absolutely at capacity for more serious shit this evening, thanks; and besides that, it was...

Whatever. It's old news.

Instead of giving a real answer he reaches into his pocket, snicks his own knife open and pretends to brandish it at Eddie, asking, "Eye for an eye?"

Eddie's eyes go huge. "Dude, what the fuck??"

"Just fucking with you," Steve laughs, lifting the can up to his mouth. "But there; now we're even. Shoulda seen your face."

“Ah—!” Eddie’s jaw drops in offense. “Ex-cuse you!”

God, of course he’s more dramatic than all the kids combined.

Steve jabs the knife into his beer, pops the top and starts to chug, throat working as he gulps the whole thing down in four big sips. It tastes like frothy, bitter piss, but it's cold and it soothes the scratch in his throat.

Eddie lets out a low whistle. "Well, goddamn, Harrington."

"Is that supposed to impress me?" "You're not?"

Steve grins and wipes his mouth.

—

They get drunk pretty fast (Eddie refused to be upstaged in his own house, so one shot-gunned beer became two became four), and somewhere along the line the conversations get weird; hilarious and dumb. Saying shit just to say it, chipping away at the ice wall between them with bare fingernails.

Eddie hollers some shit like: "What are you even talking about?" and his arms fling out wide, almost spilling his beer. "The deep sea is so much scarier than the mountains!"

"Are you joking?" Steve throws back. "The mountains have, like, giant cats and shit! Birds of prey with wingspans the size of your van."

"Yeah, and the deep sea has eldritch monsters that live in volcano vents and hunt with no eyes and eat their young for fun or whatever the fuck. You ever heard of an anglerfish? Or a phantom anglerfish? Tell me that shit isn't right out of a Lovecraft story."

"A what story?"

"How am I the one who hasn’t graduated yet?"

Then later:

“Dude, Batman? Seriously?”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective!”

“He’s a greasy little weirdo. You only like him because of your whole…” Steve gestures at his tattoos.

“Whatever, Spiderfan.”

And later still:

"Okay, okay, okay. Fuck, marry, kill... Shit. Y’know this would really be easier in a town where so many people hadn’t died."

Steve grimaces at himself; expects Eddie to call him out. It’s too insensitive, too soon.

Eddie just cracks a grin and suggests, "Fuck, marry, revive?"

—

They talk for a long time. Eddie's kind of charming when he's not being a dick. A nice smile, deep laugh lines. Steve can almost see why the kids are so obsessed with him. He's never met someone so animated; feels like he's talking to a Saturday morning cartoon. The conversation mellows out after a while, and he doesn't realize he's dozed off until Eddie shakes him awake.

"Hey, man," he says, voice just above a whisper. "I'm going to bed. You're welcome to crash on the couch, but, uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, your back is probably gonna hate you for it."

Steve rubs his fists against his eyelids and blinks himself awake. Feels jittery and weird, yanked out of the start of a bad dream. When he looks up he sees that he’s got his shoes up on the couch; and there’s dried drool on his chin, and all at once he feels embarrassed, off-balance and panicked like he missed the last step down a steep flight of stairs. Of course he's overstayed his welcome. He's being fucking rude. "My bad," he mutters as he jumps up off the couch. Stands up way too fast, makes his vision tilt and swirl. "I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie reaches for his arm. "Dude,” he says, “you're fine. You can stay if you want.”

Steve moves out of his hold. “Nah, get some sleep; I’ll see ya around.”

Eddie frowns at him, a little furrow between his brows, and somehow Steve feels like he’s in the wrong, like Eddie isn’t the one who just kicked him out.

Like maybe Steve’s just running away for a second time in one night. Always back and away, this guy.

Who's the fucking coward now?

—

part 11

y'all know the drill, tagging whoever commented on yesterday's installment provided your tumblr settings let me <;3 @thealwithnoname @violetsteve @manda-panda-monium @stuftzombie @bronwenmarie @aliea82 @slowandsteddie @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @ahsokatanoss @steveshairspray @hallucinatedjosten @estrellami-1 @ppunkpuppyy @stevesbipanic @silver-snaffles @yourmom-isgay @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @zombiecreatures @im-a-disgrace-to-humanity @faery-god @hotluncheddie @runninriot @a-little-unsteddie @teatimeeverybody @newtstabber @pearynice @hellion-child @cuips-not-cute @steddieas-shegoes @steves-strapcollection @loguine-linguine @griefabyss69

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: alcohol #tw: drinking

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pinknatural · 2 months

Text

Pick out the biggest, reddest, juiciest strawberries. Wash ‘em real good. Lay them out on a tray covered in parchment paper. Pat them dry, and leave them out. Put some chocolate chips in a bowl, and microwave in 30 second intervals. After the chocolate is good and melted, pick up the strawberries by the stem and dip them in, coating them thoroughly before putting them back on the tray.

Dean’s never made chocolate-covered strawberries before. Never had a reason to. It’s kinda nice, to dedicate all his focus to making sure the chocolate is covering up the berries evenly. To try not to get them to drip.

Since moving into the Bunker, Dean’s found that baking is fun. He likes putting a bunch of stuff together and seeing delicious results. And chocolate-covered strawberries aren’t exactly rocket science, but he knows they’ll taste good and make Sammy happy and that’s all he really wants, right?

Plus, he thinks, gently placing another strawberry back on the parchment paper. He doesn’t think Jack has ever had a chocolate-covered strawberry before, and he can just picture the kid’s excited eyebrows at the taste.

He picks up another strawberry, pinching all the leaves between his fingers so they don’t get chocolatey. He dips it nice and slow into the glass bowl, turning it gently as he brings it out of the chocolate.

“What are you doing?”

Dean yelps, nearly dropping his strawberry.

“Jesus christ, Cas, you snuck up on me!” he says, turning to glare over his shoulder. Cas is standing just behind him, staring curiously. He could’ve been there for two minutes or twenty. Dean didn’t even know he was in the Bunker, let alone the kitchen. “I’m not kidding about that bell, dude.”

“Apologies,” Cas says. He doesn’t sound a bit sorry at all. Dean rolls his eyes and turns back to his strawberry, putting it on the tray next to the other completed ones. Cas moves in closer. “What is the purpose of this exercise?”

“Chocolate-covered strawberries,” Dean says.

“I see that,” Cas says. He sniffs, as if the smell disagrees with him. “But why are you covering the strawberries in the chocolate? Is it for a spell?”

“No, it’s a dessert. Like a candy, I guess,” Dean says. “For Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah, yes,” Cas says. “Unattached drifter Christmas.”

Something in Dean’s heart stabs, at that. He hates that Cas has heard him say that, or heard Sam reference it, or whatever.

“Yeah,” he says, looking away from Cas’ eyes. The strawberries are safer to look at. “I guess.”

Cas’ big hands enter Dean’s field of view, and he plucks up a strawberry. Not one with chocolate on it. A naked one. Despite himself, Dean looks back up at Cas. It’s hard to not look at him. He has a very nice face.

“What does chocolate strawberries have to with the patron saint of bees?”

“Bees?”

“And epilepsy,” Cas says, squinting at the strawberry. “And the mentally ill. And happy marriages.”

“Uh, it’s more about the happy marriages thing,” Dean says. “Valentine’s Day is about love and shit.”

“And strawberries,” Cas says, nodding wisely, as if he understands everything. He sets the strawberry back on the tray. Dean’s not sure if he’s fucking with him or not. Surely after all this time on earth, Cas knows what fucking Valentine’s Day is.

“You give the strawberries to your Valentine,” Dean says. “Or chocolate or whatever. Or those fucking disgusting chalky heart things. But Eileen loves chocolate-covered strawberries and so these are for Sam. To give to her.”

Dean told Sam to make his own chocolate-covered strawberries, but Sam said that either Dean could make them or he would buy some from the store. And Dean does not trust fucking Hy-Vee to have quality chocolate-covered strawberries. He picks up Cas’ naked strawberry--the last one--and dips it into the chocolate.

“That’s very kind of you,” Cas says, watching him. “To help Sam out.”

“Whatever,” Dean mutters, holding the strawberry up so the excess chocolate can drip back into the bowl. “I wanted Jack to try some, too.”

“You say that like it will make me think you less kind,” Cas says. Dean is tempted to throw him out of the kitchen. But goddamnit, he likes Cas and likes when Cas hangs out with him and asks stupid questions about Valentine’s Day. But knows that Saint Valentine is the patron saint of epilepsy, or whatever. Ugh.

Dean never knows when Cas is leaving, anyway, so he’s gotta take all the time he can get. He leaves his strawberries behind and fetches another glass bowl. The white chocolate chips are already out, beside the opened bag of regular chocolate chips.

“I thought you said white chocolate was an abomination,” Cas says, watching Dean pour some into the bowl.

“It is,” Dean says. “But it will look fancier this way, trust me.” He puts the bowl in the microwave, punches in a 3-0-enter then turns around to look at Cas. He’s inspecting the neat line of chocolate-covered strawberries. They’re a little messier than Dean wants, but hell, it’s his very first try.

“I don’t understand why you would put the chocolate on the strawberries,” Cas says. “My understanding is that strawberries are perfectly good on their own.”

“Dude, bacon is perfectly good on its own and we put chocolate on that,” Dean says. He crosses back to the counter and picks up a strawberry by the stem, holds it out to Cas. “Go on, try it.”

He expects Cas to take the strawberry from him--chocolate end first, and then he’ll get chocolate all over his fingers and Dean will die a million deaths watching him lick the chocolate off. Instead, Cas does something a thousand times worse and leans forward, biting into the strawberry without taking it, like Dean’s feeding it to him or some shit.

Dean has a vision of a picnic somewhere, red and white checkered blanket and all. The sky is blue and the grass is soft and Cas’ head is in Dean’s lap and Dean’s feeding him strawberries and kissing him between each one.

But instead Cas just--doesn’t break eye contact. Just stares, as he bites into the strawberry, chews and swallows.

“Good?” Dean says, mouth dry.

Cas closes his eyes, licking his lips. “Mmm, very.” He straightens back up. Even though he licked his lips, he missed a little--has a chocolate mustache. Dean has the insane urge to lick it right off his face.

“Uh, you got some--chocolate,” Dean croaks instead. He mimes with his own thumb. Cas swipes the chocolate and succeeds in smearing it everywhere.

“Did I get it?” he asks, and his wide blue eyes hypnotize Dean into reaching forward and wiping the chocolate off Cas’ face with his own fingers. Then Dean licks the chocolate off his thumb.

Then Dean realizes that the microwave is beeping and the white chocolate’s first 30 seconds have been up for a long time, and he should probably go get that, and he escapes across the kitchen.

“The strawberry molecules and chocolate molecules are very pleasing together,” Cas says. “Do humans put chocolate on other fruits?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, stirring the white chocolate frantically. If he doesn’t look at Cas maybe Cas will think that what just happened was normal, and that Dean isn’t fucking insane. “Uh, apples, bananas, pineapples. I think I saw it on kiwi once. Uh, maybe orange slices.”

“Fascinating,” Cas says. Dean puts the white chocolate back into the microwave. “Yes, I think Jack would like that very much.”

“Good,” Dean says. He goes to the fridge, gets a beer. Opens it on the side of the counter and takes a big swig. The microwave beeps.

It’s all melted. Dean grabs a spoon and goes over to the berries. He is not confident about this part at all, but crazyforcrust.com said to use a spoon. And hopefully he can get, like four or five good-looking ones for Sam, and the rest can be for him to pig out on on the fourteenth alone in his room while he tries not to wonder where Cas is.

He dips the spoon into the white chocolate and covers it, then raises it over a strawberry and zig-zags over it, letting the white chocolate drip and drizzle overtop.

“See?” Dean says to Cas, who he knows is watching. “You can hardly taste the white chocolate this way but it looks good.” Well, it doesn’t look bad. Dean’s sure they’ll look better as he goes.

“I see,” Cas says. He points to the drizzled strawberry. “Are you giving that one to Sam?”

“No,” Dean says. “That one was just a practice one.”

“Good,” Cas says, and he picks up the strawberry by the stem. Dean’s never, ever seen him go for seconds before, but he makes a mental note of it. But then Cas turns the strawberry around, unmistakably offering it to Dean. “You should have one. You made them.”

“But--” Dean starts to say, and then Cas brings it up, so it nearly touches Dean’s lips. He looks at him with the same kind of focus he gives to a hunt, or smiting demons.

“Eat it,” he says, nudging Dean’s lips with the fruit. Dean opens his mouth and bites into it. Maybe Dean would lay his head on Cas’ lap in their picnic, and Cas would feed Dean.

The strawberry is good, probably. Dean’s not really sure what it tastes like. All he can see are Cas’ eyes, boring into his.

Dean swallows.

“You don’t have any chocolate on your face,” Cas says. He sounds disappointed. Dean can’t unpack that.

“That’s ‘cause the chocolate is less melty,” Dean says, mostly on autopilot. He feels a million miles away. “Cause it’s starting to harden.”

“Okay,” Cas says. “Can I help with the drizzle?”

“Oh,” Dean says, shaken out of some kind of trance. “Sure. Get a spoon.”

Cas fetches one. He holds it like an instrument of war. Dean loves him so fucking much.

They drizzle white chocolate over the strawberries. Cas does it so precisely his drizzles look like they came from the store. Dean’s drizzles improve. He makes a couple decent ones. For Jack, he guesses, ‘cause the ones Cas made should probably go to Sam.

“I gave you a strawberry,” Cas says out of nowhere. “And you gave me one. Does that make us Valentines?”

Dean freezes.

A moment later, his heart restarts and he looks at Cas, who is solemnly drizzling. Then he looks innocently up at Dean, and Dean realizes that Cas has absolutely been fucking with him this whole time. Absolutely knows about Valentine’s Day, absolutely ate that strawberry out of Dean’s hand on purpose. Dean narrows his eyes at him. Cas tilts his head.

“You’re a menace,” Dean grumbles.

“That’s not a no,” Cas says.

“You’re right,” Dean says. “I guess it does make us Valentines.” Cas smiles, a tiny, private thing, and then looks back down at his drizzling.

“Good,” he says quietly, and Dean ducks his head, cheeks warm and heart fluttering, and he lifts up his spoon.

It’s kind of cold in Kansas in February, but Dean imagines him and Cas wrapped in blankets, feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries in front of the TV. This time, he thinks, he’ll actually taste the strawberry. And you know what? Dean’s sure that those strawberry molecules and those chocolate molecules are gonna be fucking fantastic.

Especially if he gets to kiss them off Cas’ lips.

(ao3)

#🍓🍓🍓#destiel #writingtag #supernatural #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #instead of writing about wedding anniversaries have THIS

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heyhihellosworld · 5 months

Text

𝐇𝐦?

Lando Norris x reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Smut

Notes: This was really fun to write but something completely different from what I usually do and probs not as rough as the request maybe sounded but hope it's fine! Thank you for the request! Also I have cero knowledge about frat-life or anything like it but I tried! I literally had to google the term frat :) I'm on a Lando stint rn apparently, third fic in a row so I hope you all like Lando :D

Request: Could you do super cocky frat Lando? Y/N dosen't like him cuz of his attiude. But after lots & lots of flirting, she starts giving in to his charms (and hotness). He's a bit narcissistic, so when he knows she's in the palm of his hand, he has her undress him, asking her how much she likes his muscles, and then he has her get on her knees and kiss him through his underwear, and then he pushes his c*ock down her throat until she has tears in her eyes, and he's smirking and boasting non-stop. Ahhh!

The first time you laid eyes on him was in art class.

He had been sitting up front, dangling his feet in the air whilst playing with his pen on the tree-desk. Something you found so incredibly annoying as the thumping sound never seemed to stop.

His face held a cocky little smirk and despite his obvious good looks which you couldn't deny you disliked him from first sight.

His brown curls dripped into his eyes and his well shaped face eased into a grin as he talked with his friend. Fuck he was pretty.

As time went you saw him more and more often. It was like everywhere you were, he was. You learned his name was Lando, the same age as you and you also learned that your gut feeling had been completely right. Because Lando was not for the weak, he was cocky, bratty, straight forward and thought he was a celebrity along the halls. Arrogant was what he was.

For some reason though he had set his sights on you, why? You had no idea but at every party, every break, every art class, he was there. Trying to flirt his ways into your bed. Maybe it was just the fact that you weren't falling for your knees for him, maybe it was the need to get what he wanted or it was just pure arrogance, but he never gave up.

He was used to getting who he wanted and you couldn't judge, you guessed he was pretty attractive and also pretty charming when he tried but still. He was Lando, the arrogant, cocky guy who was known for sleeping around and getting his way. It was not qualities you were looking for in a man, not even one to only sleep with.

Lando was persistent though, you had to give him that and regardless of how much you hated to admit it he got under your skin. His sweet words of praise, compliments and small not so innocent touches made your heart stutter and heat crawling up your skin.

For every day that went the more you realized how fucking good he looked. His eyes and face so innocent in a way but still so not in other ways.

His body, fuck his body was perfect. Eyes not able to ignore the way his arms flexed or the times he was wearing that stupid t-shirt that made his abs show through the thin fabric. You hated him on those days.

This was one of those days and as every other day so far Lando threw himself down in the seat next to you. Eyes raking your tired outfit for the day.

"How are you beutiful"

"Hello Lando, I'm good thank you" you answered casually. It was weird how this had almost started to become like a routine now, you got used to his company.

"No how are you? Pft Y/n! I thought you were raised well!" Lando spoke teasingly, fingers softly tickling your waist as your eyes rolled. "My deepest apologies Lando, how are you my prince?" "Ohoo here we go, that's better. I'm good thank you very much my princess"

Your eyes rolled again but you couldn't help the heat you felt spreading up your face as a giggle left your lips. Fuck.

"Are you gonna come to the party at friday?" he asked then, looking you straight into the eyes telling you this was an honest question. "Yeah I think so, why?"

"No no, no reason just wanted to ask so I know where to have my focus"

"Oh how charming you are" you huffed but Lando only shrugged "You know I'm popular baby" he spoke teasingly, smirking as you turned your focus away from him.

"You are so pretty baby" he hummed, the line making you grumble to him but you couldn't helpt but to feel the pet-name stirring something deep within you.

You didn't want him to affect you the way he did, you loathed him. Had always done. The way he snapped his fingers and got the things he wanted. The way he acted around, like he was the king of the world and everyone had to adjust and accept his ways. You loathed him, you told yourself, repeating all the reasons over and over to not forget them.

"Sure Lando" you murmured, gently pushing him away from you with an eyeroll. He only sniggered, that smirk that made your skin prickle making it's way onto his face.

"Is that so darling?" he chuckled, placing a hot hand on your hip. By the looks of it to walk past you but you knew it was only another way for him to show his dominance to you, show how much he actually affeccted you despite your tries to hide it.

"How long are you going to deny it hm?" he said lowly, his head bowing to reach your ear-level and it only made him grow cockier, feel more dominance.

"Deny what exactly? That you are a jerk? A jackass?"

Lando chuckled, finding your words more amusing than hurtful as he found your eyes. The colour in them shining with delight and competition.

"Deny that you somewhat find me attractive" he said lowly, watching your eyes blink shut, trying to shut out the hot feeling developing in your core. "I will stop denying it when you stop being such a jerk" you countered, a smirk making it's way to your lips as well as you felt the confidence surge back to you.

At that you left him, blinking sweetly at him before rounding him with an hot hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't even an hour until he was next to you again, his hand snaking it's way to your waist as he leaned in to talk directly in your ear. Something that made you all hot and bothered, it had no right to be so hot.

"Why are you acting so hard to get baby? I know you think i'm attractive"

"Attractive sure but I still find you a jackass"

"Hmm I don't think so sweetie"

"You think you know what I want better than I know myself?" you spoke softly looking at him with an innocent flutter of your eyes.

"I know you want me baby, you can't hide how flustered you get when I call you baby or how your eyes grow all wide when I say something dirty to you"

When you said nothing he continued talking again. Voice an octavle lower than before, his breath fanning the side of your face making it even hotter.

"I can't stop thinking about you baby, I don't know why but I can't. I want you, so bad"

Cheesy, the line was cheesy but you still felt the words make you crumble. Slowly but surely giving into him, because afterall, he was so hot.

Lando saw it to, the grin on his face only getting bigger as he continued, knowing that you would soon be eating out of his palm, just like he wanted but at this stage you didn't care. The man was a fucking flirt and he could flirt his ways into people's bed, yours included.

"Yeah? You like this baby, don't you? Picture your cute little mouth stretched around my cock, your sweet sounds as I make you feel good after I've come down your throat"

You felt heat pour into your stomach, all the way through your veins, building up slowly but steadily until it was all-consuming.

Fuck he was good

"You like that hm? I'm gonna have you so lost for me baby, sucking my cock like the good girl you are. Gonna have you undress me and ask for it, would you do that for me?"

You could practically feel the shit eating grin on his lips as you let out a small huff, dangerously close to a moan as you grumbled on your breath.

"Fuck Lando, how are you so good at this? Have you practiced this before?"

Lando laughed at that, his hand on your waist squeezing slightly harder as he hummed. "No, you are my motivation" "Oh gosh that's so cheesy but it still makes me fucking wet" you groaned in his ear, the words making him hum.

"Bet you taste fucking amazing" he mumbled and that was it, you crumbled.

"You gonna do as I say hm?"

You swallowed thickly, he knew all to well how he made you feel, feeding of of it but you couldn't deny it either, couldn't deny him. So you nodded, giving in to your pride for this moment and giving him the power he knew he had over you.

"What was that? Need your words baby"

"Yes" you almost whispered out, his smile big and cocky regardless.

"Yeah? Then undress me sweetie"

It took a moment for you to register his words but when you did you immideately reached for his shoulders. You gently squeezed his shoulders before letting your hands trail down his chest to the zipper of his hoodie.

"Come on baby, get on with it" he smirked, voice rougher than usual as his eyes pinned you down, gleaming with cockiness and victory.

You gently pulled his sweater off before letting your hands run under his white t-shirt. Feeling his muscles tense under your palms as you pulled it over his head.

He was so stunning you couldn't stop staring at him. Everything was just.. yum.

You stood infront of him, eyes fleeting over his toned torso, only feeding his ego and smirk.

"You like what you see hm?" he teased, gently grabbing your hands to settle on his muscular arms. Saliva gathered up in your mouth, swallowing thickly you let your hands slide down his arms and then up again. Your hands moved on instinct, coming up to his shoulders before sliding down his stomach.

"Tell me how much you like them huh? Tell me how much you like my muscles"

"So much, look so good Lan" you hummed, not being able to resist to let your hands wander over his body once more before settling them on his waistband.

"Go on, take them off" he nodded, watching you as your shaky fingers unbottoned the button of his jeans before helping him out of them.

Lando looked at you for a moment, seeming to think over his next move.

"Get on your knees baby"

You fell to your knees before you could even think it through properly, why? You couldn't answer that but all you knew was that for Lando, you wanted to do whatever he said, wanted to please him and his desires.

"Good, come on baby, kiss it" he prompted you, strong hands finding the back of your head and gently nudging your face to his boxer clad cock, straining hard inside the fabric.

You did what he asked, gently leaning forward to kiss him over the material. Your lips softly touching over the visable print of his hard dick, looking up at the Brit's face which looked taken over with lust and cockiness

"Look at you baby, doing everything I ask hm?"

"So gone for me already pretty girl?"

You could only hum, kissing up and down his dick once more before he hooked his fingers under the band, pulling his boxers down swiftly.

"Gonna let me fuck your little mouth princess?" You could no longer find your words, nodding desperately. All the various nicknames making you feel all dizzy and wetter then ever.

You leaned in kissing his dick again but this time without the fabric in the way, basking in the sound he let out before his hands tangled in your hair, not letting you ease into it at all but coaxing your mouth open with one hand before pressing his cock into your open mouth.

You did your best to stop your gagging, breathing through your nose as he set a brutal pace.

"You like that huh?" he smirked at you, not bothering letting you answer, looking into your eyes was answer enough. "Like having my cock down your throat hm?"

"Fuck y/n, taking it so good" he groaned, eyes never leaving yours, loving the way they were tearing up.

You tried your best to keep your mouth open without choking on his dick, marveling in the sounds he let slip past his throat but it was a struggle when he kept his relentless pace up, not letting you paus unless you tapped out.

You blinked through the tears trying to focus on your breathing but it became too hard, instinctively you tried to pull your head back but his grip was strong, keeping you seated until you tapped his thigh, depserate for some air.

He let you up immideately, watching you closely as you panted hard, trying to get your lungs filled with air, calming down your breathing slowly

"You okay baby?" he asked softly, his hand gently rubbing your cheek as you nodded "Yes yes, sorrry"

He shook his head firmly "don't apologise", at that you hummed, locking eyes with him, feeling your insides melt as his sweet eyes looked at you with such care and lust.

When you felt fine you leant forward again, licking a bold stripe from the base up to the tip, letting your tongue lap up the small droplets of pre-cum before opening your mouth, inviting him in once again.

"Fuck, look at you baby" he groaned "Like being used like this hm?"

You couldn't asnwer coherently, just gagged on his cock in response but he seemed to like it enough by the long groan he let out. His head had tipped back and his arms flexed as he held your head steadily.

"Fuck Y/n"

You tried to be at your best behaviour, Lando pulling that out of you. Swallowing around his dick, breathing through your nose and letting him use your mouth. Focusing on the salty taste on your tongue and the proper fucked out look on his face. Arms flexing, face twisting and abs clenching as he got closer and closer to his release.

Fuck he was a sight.

You felt his hips stutter as he fucked into your mouth a few more times before letting your head up.

You looked up at him softly, eyes swam over with tears and saliva dripping down your chin, gasping a few moutfull's of air before you sank down on his dick again, feling his dick twitch in your throat. Apparently he liked your fucked out look.

You had never ever enjoyed giving head as much as you did now, watching his mouth hang open and thighs shaking slightly. His hands came back to the back of your head, holding you deep as he came with a long groan.

He fucked up a few more times grunting words you couldn't understand, voice holding a tinge of despearation as he emptied all he had in your open mouth.

His eyes that had drooped closed open slowly watching your lips as he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop.

Eyes almost hazing over as you swallowed, licking your lips as you blinked up innocently at him, he was just as effected by you as you were by him.

A wry smile made it's way up your face at the realization, looking at his fucked out face before speaking up in a sweet soft voice that made his softening cock want to harden again.

"As good as you imagined then baby?"

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris oneshot #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #Lando Norris #f1 smut

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sarawritestories · 3 months

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 3

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.

Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.

Word Count: 5.6k

chapter 2 Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!

After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.

There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.

Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.

Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?” I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”

The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”

Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”

I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”

Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”

My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.

A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.

The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.

I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.

Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.

“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.

He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.

I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.

Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.

Cassian’s POV

I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.

“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.

“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”

Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”

I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.

Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”

I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”

Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.

Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”

“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.

Reader’s POV

After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.

I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.

I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.

You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.

Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”

I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.

If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“

“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.

The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”

“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”

Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”

Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.

Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”

Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.

I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”

“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.

Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.

Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”

I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head. You BOTH do.

I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.

One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”

A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?” I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home. Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”

Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.

Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced. “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”

I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”

I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”

Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”

“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”

I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.

“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”

He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.

Cassian’s POV

She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.

Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.

I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.

Reader’s POV

The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.

I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.” I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”

Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.

At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.

“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.”

He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.

The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.

Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.

I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.

Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.

I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”

She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”

I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.

Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”

Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”

Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.

I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:

Rhys, help. Please help me!

There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.

A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.

Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.” A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.” The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.

Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.

I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.

No one will be dying tonight.

There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.

The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.

I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.

The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”

I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”

I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”

“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.

“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.

Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”

Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.

"Who is?" Cassian asked.

"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."

Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”

You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.

With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.

"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.

He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

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