#he only apologized when it was presumably too late to do so

[ludicdoll]

hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic

synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.

a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭

there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.

your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.

you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.

you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.

he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.

“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.

“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.

“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.

you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.

“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.

“hmm?”

“no one’s talking to me anymore.”

“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”

“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”

you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.

you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.

“please?”

you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.

you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.

you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.

“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh #saltburn #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #farleigh x reader

[halfblood-princes-crown]

I saw the supernatural post you made and I couldn't help but think that Snape would hate the Winchesters. The way they hunt down anything that isn't like them in nature to kill it would remind him of Voldemort. Thoughts?

Anon, you just started me on my bullshit

Ok ok!

That’s a good comparison! I like where your heads at. I was thinking more along the lines of he’d notice how different they were

Right off the bat of meeting, think about first impressions: Dean is shoot first ask questions later. A wizard? Time to die mf. Sam on the other hand is like “Wait, he hasn’t done anything! Let’s just talk to him and figure out what’s going on”

Right off the bat, Dean is not in Snapes favor, but Snape isn’t up Sams ass either. It takes a lot more than patience to impress our bat bitch

When Dean finally does agree to talk, what do we all know comes next? A self righteous, snarky remark. Strike mf two. Meanwhile Sam looks annoyed or mildly uncomfortable with whatever Dean said because they are, in fact, standing in front of someone who could kill them in one word. Literally. Now he’s trying to change the subject and ask what’s going on and the standard “making sure you aren’t a threat” questions. Snape is a double spy, he can read body language. Sam does not approve of his brothers behavior…but he hasn’t said anything about it either

Give or take 30 minutes to an hour, what’s the next thing Snape is gonna notice? Deans attitude towards Sam

Do you see where I’m going with this?

He’s going to compare Dean to Sirius black (derogatory). I said what I said.

One would think “Sam is Regulus then?” Nope. He’s Remus.

THINK ABOUT IT!

Sam has demon blood in his veins and is outcasted and shamed for it, even by people who are close to him. Sam has been putting up with Deans sideways remarks and straight up abuse for how long? He makes excuses for Dean and when he DOES stand up for himself, he always apologizes or feels guilty about it. Remus and his lycanthropy! We saw in the books how they made sideways jokes about it. Joking about the full moon and shit. Then we have to remember “The Prank”

Sam sees how overly violent Dean is about hunting, he also sees how unfair and cruel he is. He ALSO sees how that unfairness and cruelty extends to friends. And while Sam actually does say something, he never says enough, and usually makes at least one excuse for Dean…Remus “Bystander” Lupin!

Sam was told that he was someone’s weapon at least twice in the show (Yellow eyes and Lucifer). I mean that sounds a lot like how werewolf!Remus was used as a weapon to almost kill Severus in “The Prank”. Just saying.

Severus knows all too well that a person’s intentions don’t always match their actions, so I don’t think he’d judge them for hunting, but he will notice the INTENTIONS. Dean hunts for sport and Sam hunts to save people. Difference.

Dean Winchester would trigger the fuck out of Severus Snape

#do I dare tag this spn related? #nah #if y’all couldn’t tell…I’m anti Dean #hopefully this doesn’t find a Dean stan. I hate debating with them 🤣 #the always pull a *You can’t like Snape and hate Dean! according to your logic Dean acts like that because of trauma!* #Well according to your logic all Dean Stan’s should also be Snape Stan’s but we both know that’s not true and let’s look at why #Deans attractive #that’s the only logical explanation #i acknowledge that Dean was a victim of abuse who continues the cycle and that what happens sometimes #but unlike Snape Dean had a support system of people who tried to help him stop that cycle and he refused all kinds of help #he only apologized when it was presumably too late to do so #Snape had no support system whatsoever #no help. no shoulder to lean on. no listening ears. nada #and Snape was nowhere near Dean #At least Snape wasn’t checking out the seventh years like Dean checks out seniors in high school #let’s talk about that #and people love to call Snape racist but let’s remember #he risked his life to defeat the “racist” side #Dean killed anything that wasn’t human JUST because it wasn’t human #with the exception of anything that could benefit him #but once it wasn��t of use anymore. he wanted them dead #I can go on #severus snape #pro severus snape #pro snape #snape community #hp crossover #hp au

[imastrangeone98]

Carved Into Time Immemorial

(A/N: I'm back with my bullshit 😄 I've reemerged from the depths of legal hell and I will not hesitate to repeat this again)

Based off of a dream I had, started off as a zombie apocalypse dream but it suddenly changed to a reincarnation au so there's that

Warning: fem!reader, ooc modern!alhaitham who's a simp, reincarnation angst to comfort, just general bad attempt at hurt/comfort fluff

"I'm merely attempting to tell you to stop deluding yourself with your fantasies."

"So you're telling me to screw off, right?" you sniffled, tears running down your soft cheeks. "If you didn't like me, you just had to say that. Why are you being so cruel?"

"It's not being cruel, it's simply being realistic," he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "With my status as the Scribe, the requirements for a romantic partner must be near equal to or higher than my own. And with your low grades, unruly personality, and penchant for idiotic decisions, the answer is quite obvious:

"You don't meet any of my prerequisites."

Alhaitham's eyes crack open, and he blinks at the sunlight peeking through the blinds.

With a grunt, he hoists himself up and stretches with a soft yawn, before rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

Another dream.

What a shitty way to start the morning. He runs a hand through his hair and ruffles it rather aggressively.

"I need a coffee."

[...]

Never mind. He doesn't want coffee anymore.

Because the new barista taking orders bears a striking, near-identical resemblance to the crying woman in his unnaturally realistic dreams.

But it's too late to back out, because Alhaitham is next in line, and your gentle eyes peer into his own so deeply, he almost doesn't notice the way your hands shake just the slightest at the sight of him.

Despite the brief stutter in his voice, he manages to give you his order, even placing a small tip inside the jar, which he normally doesn't do.

Given the terror in your eyes which you so desperately tried to hide, he feels as though you earned it. That, and the coffee you handed over to him (ignoring the softness of your fingertips when they brushed over his knuckles) is surprisingly delicious- perfectly bitter with a smooth undertaste that the previous baristas could never achieve.

As he heads off to work, he finds himself savoring every sip.

Meanwhile, you're still reeling at the sight of the mysterious, yet familiar man this morning. How could it be possible, that the figure you saw hurting you with words so sharp they could've cut through your skin in your dreams be a living, breathing human being in your reality, especially when said man spoke with such a surprisingly quiet voice?

Could it be possible that we met before? you couldn't help but mull over, before shaking your head resolutely.

It's just a coincidence, nothing more, you try to reassure yourself, returning to grinding coffee beans with diligence. Nothing more, nothing less.

It's not like you're ever going to see him again.

[...]

You ought to smack yourself right in the head, because you end up meeting the familiar stranger- Alhaitham, you recall from the name on the cup- again at the tavern.

Your coworkers had dragged you there against your will, despite your lack of enthusiasm. So you sit at the bar, a mocktail in your hands, watching the other baristas get more and more drunk.

"You're not a fan of alcohol, I presume?"

The sudden voice close to your ear makes you flinch, and it's only thanks to the man's solid chest that he doesn't go tumbling to the ground when you smack him.

"I- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No need to apologize. You have quite the arm strength."

You flush at the reminder of your actions, as well as how firm his stomach was. You'd slap yourself silly if you weren't in public.

"If that's all, I hope you have a good rest of your night-"

"We've never met before."

You look at him, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"We've only met once, yet you seem strangely familiar. Like someone from the past," he says. "And from the way you seem to avoid my gaze, would I be correct in presuming that you also view me in a similar light?"

Something within you- almost like an inner voice- whispers at you to not answer his question, to leave and not turn around for a final glance. And it's so unnerving that you're speechless.

"I'll take your silence as an answer." He gazes at you with unbridled curiosity, eyes sparkling in the dim bar light that you can't look away. "If it's agreeable with you, would you be interested in going out for a meal sometime? Perhaps we could compare notes."

You should say no. The voice within you tells you to say no.

But he tilts his head, and somehow, your voice cannot bring itself to vocalize what you should say. So you simply nod, albeit hesitantly. And with a brief exchange of phone numbers, you hurriedly grab your things and ditch your coworkers to rush home.

Alhaitham watches you until the door swings shut, then moves his attention to his phone screen, swiftly typing a message to his newly-made acquaintance.

"I've never seen you so excited about meeting people before," Kaveh chortles with a swig of his wine. "Were you hoping to bring her home tonight? The way she darted away says otherwise."

He rolls his eyes. "Says the one who pulled zero people in the span of the hour we've been sitting in this bar."

"Why, you-!"

"Alhaitham's and Kaveh's love lives aside," Tighnari jumps in and glares at his two friends, "it's about your time to roll, Cyno. We came here because you wanted to play cards, yet here you are, staring at nothing."

Their attention turns to their card-loving friend, who is merely staring at the door.

"...She's a marathon runner," he says simply.

"...What?"

"A marathon runner. Because she's been running laps in Alhaitham's mind."

The men stare at him blankly.

"...Do you not get it? Allow me to explain- Alhaitham has been exceptionally distracted for the past hour-"

Tighnari immediately tries to stop him, leading to an objectively hilarious argument that even has a chase sequence ("Enough with the shitty puns, you pea-brained lummox!"). But Alhaitham isn't laughing.

He stares at his phone, at the little notification indicating a response from you, agreeing to lunch in a few days' time.

He sets about looking for a nice cafe.

[...]

The booths are small in this restaurant, because the two of you pick at your food with your knees practically bumping each other under the table. But the panipuri appetizers are good, so at least you have that silver lining.

He's not particularly chatty, as his answers to your icebreaker questions are short and straightforward. But you sense that it's not out of malice, but simple directness.

At least you learn some things: he works at Sumeru Corporations, he holds a relatively high yet comfortable position, he has a "terrible roommate with no sense of rationality or common sense," and he enjoys a good book at the library. It suits him, you think.

It isn't until your lunches arrive that the conversation turns more serious.

As you nervously take bites of your fish with cream sauce, he asks you a question: "Did you sleep well last night?"

You flinch. The answer is: you did not. The dream prevented you from doing so.

"Dropping out of the Akademiya? I knew you were always foolish, but to think you'd stoop so low as to throw away your future," Alhaitham said, watching you throw away boxes upon boxes of your schoolwork and rejected theses.

"You said so yourself, Grand Scribe," you sighed. You refused to give him any more attention than this; the sting in your heart wouldn't allow it. "I was never meant to be a scholar. This is the best case scenario for everyone involved."

He huffed, and scanned through some of your old papers- papers you spent days, weeks, months on, even. Papers that he would've written in an hour or less. You bit your lip; you refused to give it any more thought, lest the grief in your chest mutate into rage.

"You do realize that some of these could be published, yes?"

You rolled your eyes. "If you're done mocking me, Grand Scribe, you can return to your duties now."

"I'm not mocking you; some of these papers would easily be approved by the Grand Sage-"

"Don't even get me started on that incompetent old fool!" you hissed, and you squeezed the old papers in your hands so hard wrinkles formed. "If that was your attempt to have me stay in the Akademiya- which seems beyond your best interest, mind you- then you did a horrible job. Leave at once!"

"Just listen to-"

"LEAVE!"

"Are you alright? You're crying."

The voice jolts you out of your memory. You jump in your seat, the feeling of a warm finger gently rubbing under your eye further pulling you out of your unexpected funk.

Alhaitham stares at you, leaning away. "My apologies. You just seemed very lost in thought."

You wipe your suddenly wet eyes. Why would you cry over a silly dream? "Sorry; I don't know why I did that. It was just a bad dream I had last night, please don't worry about it."

He hums and stares at you thoughtfully, a cheek rested on his hand. "I suppose now would be a bad time to tell you I also had a dream last night."

You look at him, eyes wide.

"You were leaving some institution called the Akademiya, and I made some attempt to stop you for unknown reasons."

The blood in your veins chilled you; you stare into your plate, appetite gone. He eyes you, swiftly switching his empty plate with yours.

"I admit that I'm not one to be superstitious. But for us to share the same dream cannot merely be a coincidence."

You want to deny it; there's no way some complete stranger happens to share the exact same dream as you! It's just a coincidence!

...But is it really? To both know the words that were spoken between your dream self and his? Could that truly be called a coincidence when it seems like every dream of yours is known by this man?

You stay silent.

Alhaitham takes the time to briefly study your face: the corners of your eyes are etched with laugh lines, your hands are rough and calloused from months- maybe even years- of hard work from your various areas of employment, and even though you're visibly upset, your head still bobs gently to the soft music playing above. You live a different life than he imagined.

He swiftly handles the bill, and when you complain and try to hand him your share of the receipt, he merely says, "If you'd like to repay me, I know a good place that has excellent baklava."

And when his eyes glow and he extends his arm to you, you- against your better judgment- say yes.

[...]

"Y'know, he's been in quite the good mood ever since his date~" Kaveh chuckles at his roommate from the comfort of his cramped desk. "He's finally appreciating all those love lessons I taught him!"

"Sure, if you can even call those lessons," Tighnari laughs at his friend. "More like screaming matches to me."

"I swear to the archons, if you try to mock my teaching skills again, I'll give you a 'love lesson' too!"

"No need, I don't need another one of those."

"What are you talking about, I never gave you one-"

"On the contrary, Alhaitham has been rather cranky at work." Cyno watches his friend typing away at his phone while simultaneously managing his leftover paperwork, oddly determined on finishing the last of his duties before work ended so he could focus his attention on other, "more important things worth my time than slaving away over a desk," as he put it. "He seems very intent on 'throwing a wrench' in all of my proposals for the upcoming case."

"...Not gonna lie, Cyno, that doesn't sound very off-brand from his actual personality," Tighnari says bluntly. "Also, stop with the archon-forsaken puns!"

"No. And correction- he's intent on rejecting my proposals. Setaria's and Zandik's went through without a hitch. And their plans almost never get approved by him."

That fact left the lawyer's two friends utterly confused. While Alhaitham was never an active fan of Cyno, they knew that the former always respected the latter's opinion regarding legal matters. The fact that he is actively avoiding Cyno's advice is... concerning, to say the least.

They all turn towards Alhaitham, who had seemingly paid them no heed, and observe him in silence.

"...If you focused on your duties as fervently as you do your gossip, I'm sure this office would be much better off," said man cuttingly says to his friends.

"I will once you tell me why you're rejecting my proposals," Cyno huffs, arms crossed.

"I would accept them if they were not so riddled with nonsense."

But Alhaitham knows that the words he spills so smoothly are actually directed towards himself. After all, no reasonable man would be doing such ridiculous things as he is solely because of a dream.

...Or perhaps, a distant memory.

"Do you happen to know what flowers she likes, Alhaitham? Perhaps not flowers..."

Alhaitham watched Cyno mumble to himself as the general pored over the selections of bouquets, a strange feeling in his gut. But he rolled his eyes and pointed one out to his friend. "This one."

"Ah, so she likes Sumeru roses. Simple, yet classic and elegant. A fitting flower indeed for a blooming beauty."

It was strange to see the General Mahamatra himself with such a wide, love-struck smile on his face. Everyone around him was placed on edge, including the Grand Scribe himself. But there was no real reason to feel this way. After all, he had long since cut ties with you ever since you left the Akademiya to start up your own food stall, selling fresh chai and charcoal-baked Ajilenakh cakes to eager customers.

But ever since Cyno became interested in getting closer to you, Alhaitham found it more difficult to avoid you. He began inviting you to the tavern for TCG, then to the Grand Bazaar to watch Nilou's latest performance, then to walks around the city at night to stargaze. Soon, you and Cyno were practically inseparable- where one was, the other would most certainly be as well.

It was... odd, to say the least. Alhaitham was always used to your gaze on his back. Now that your eyes had moved elsewhere, the feeling was unusual. He should have felt relieved. Yet all he felt was an unnatural wrongness.

But he said nothing. He gave Cyno his advice, and watched as the general practically sprinted to where you had promised to meet him that night for dinner. He watched until his friend's back disappeared, then returned home, feeling abnormally bitter.

"Don't play dumb, Alhaitham," Cyno says cuttingly, eyes piercing. "You've never approved of Zandik before. So what's really going on with you?"

"I already said my piece. Maybe instead of standing around and blabbering about how your proposal didn't get chosen, your time would be better spent fixing your mistakes."

Alhaitham turns back to his computer, headphones slid over his ears, effectively tuning out Cyno's further complaints in favor of the playlist you sent him a few days ago.

A playlist that you certainly did not give to Cyno.

[...]

"Wow. These are beautiful, but..." You gaze at the bouquet of rainbow roses Alhaitham placed in your hands earlier. "...Where did you get these? They don't look local to Sumeru."

"The florist imported some unique flowers from Fontaine. I thought you'd like these ones."

His eyes fixate on your small, sweet smile as you nod and breathe in their scent. "Yes. I do. Thank you, Alhaitham, that's very sweet of you."

Not as sweet as you, he thinks. But he can save those thoughts for another time. A more appropriate time.

[...]

...He just didn't think that time would be now.

Because you and Cyno are playing TCG. Together. At the same table.

Alhaitham knows he shouldn't feel this way. He was the one who invited you to join him, after all. He knew this could have been a possibility- you're soft and likable, it's only fair that his friends would be drawn to you.

But the look in the lawyer's eyes is unnaturally familiar. And it grates on his nerves.

Because he saw it before. At your wedding. He saw you walk down the aisle, with a smile brighter than he had ever seen grace your lips.

And across from you, Cyno. With hearts in his eyes, he held out his hand for you, and Alhaitham watched as you took it in your own and held his hand close to your heart. And he watched, bitterness on his tongue, as you were whisked away in the general's arms, dancing the night away.

That could have been me. The thought thudded so strongly in his mind he nearly knocked himself over. But he knew he only had himself to blame. And Kaveh was more than eager to rub that fact in his face as he helped his stupidly drunk friend back to their shared home.

"If ya weren't such a... such a hard-ass, maybe she... she would've gone out with you," the architect cackled, the smell of booze so strong it made Alhaitham's nose crinkle in disgust.

Just as it does now, at the sight of the two of you, chumming it up like peas in a pod. Like the two of you were meant to meet.

To fall in love all over again, as you did before.

His hands clench, and the wineglass nearly shatters.

Kaveh eyes him knowingly. "Y'know, if you're gonna be such a hard-ass-"

"Do not." He snaps at the architect, before rising from his seat to march over to you, completely ignoring Kaveh's baffled gasp at the sheer audacity of his junior.

"Alhaitham!" you greet him so cheerily, he almost forgets why he's so upset. Almost. "Come sit with us, we're just about to start a new game!"

"She's quite the talented player," Cyno nods at you. "You should bring her around more often."

"I'm afraid not for a while, as we have somewhere to be." He grabs your wrist and escorts you out of your seat and towards the door, choosing to ignore your confused pout. "I'll see you on Monday."

He doesn't turn back around to Cyno's brief protest, nor to Kaveh's knowing guffaw as the two of you exit the tavern into the cool night air. He breathes in deep, trying to ease the tightness in his chest.

"...Alhaitham?" Your soft voice cuts through the silence, compelling him to turn towards you. "Is something wrong?"

He chews on his lip. "...Do you like him?"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

He sighs; no way could you be this adorably oblivious. "Cyno. Do you like him?"

Your eyes widen briefly, before you rub your chin, deep in contemplation. "He's very friendly, I'll give him that."

He glares at the ground.

"But I don't think I would go out of my way to hang out with him outside of hanging out with you," you laugh, scratching the back of your neck and looking up at him. Your eyes glow in the moonlight, and he's so captivated, his hand reaches out to brush against your cheek.

Your face feels hot, and you're suddenly even more bashful than you already are. But when you try to hide your face, he immediately gets a gentle, yet firm grip on your chin.

"Don't hide," he whispers. He stares at you, a fond look in his eyes. "You don't need to hide from me."

You're once again reminded of how utterly handsome Alhaitham is. And you want to kiss him. So you lean on your tiptoes, face moving towards his-

DON'T.

The voice echoes loud in your mind, and you grab your head in pain with a yelp.

"I'm merely attempting to tell you to stop deluding yourself with your fantasies."

Alhaitham immediately reaches out for you, grasping your chin and tilting your head this way and that. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"With your low grades, unruly personality, and penchant for idiotic decisions, the answer is quite obvious..."

"My- my head..."

"Your head? I'll take you to the Bimarstan, just hang in there-"

"You don't meet any of my prerequisites."

"NO!" You pull away from his touch, like his skin burned you, and turn your back to him. Every cell in your body seems to be screaming: LEAVE. "I- I have to go."

"At least let me walk you home-"

You don't hear any more of him- you can't, not with the voice in your head demanding you to turn your back on him and return home immediately.

You don't see the pain in his eyes as he watches you leave him.

[...]

You don't contact him for a while. His messages go unread.

Alhaitham spends most of his time staring at his phone instead of his papers, waiting for a message that never comes.

"You keep staring at that screen, your eyes are gonna pop out," Kaveh chortles as he sips his coffee. "And then that woman will really never want to see you again."

Alhaitham doesn't reply. He instead thinks back to his last conversation with you: the fear on your face, the tremble in your hands, the shakiness of your voice.

Did he make you uncomfortable? Did he push too far against your boundaries? Did he make you remember too much, too fast?

Did he remind you of something... or someone... you'd rather forget?

"You haven't brought your friend around recently," Cyno comments lightly from his desk. Alhaitham's hands clench. "You should invite her to join us again sometime. I'm looking forward to another rematch."

"I'm just surprised Alhaitham is capable of thinking of someone other than himself," Kaveh scoffs. "This man reeks of haughtiness, what makes you think he's capable of having friends, let alone a love interest?"

"Sounds like somebody's jealous," Tighnari chimes in. "Kaveh's right, by the way; staring at a computer screen doesn't do well for your eyes."

Alhaitham simply mumbles, "Pardon me if my eye health is the least of my concerns at the moment," and continues typing and deleting his message to you, trying for the nth time to make it perfect.

"...I knew it," Kaveh gasps, and he points dramatically at his roommate. "It is because of your lady friend! Let me guess, trouble in paradise? Want your best friend to give you some love tips?"

"That would actually be greatly appreciated."

"I knew that those would come in handy- Wait, what?" It's not just Kaveh who looks at him utterly flabbergasted; Cyno and Tighnari also stare him, dumbfounded at why the ever-rational secretary would want romance advice.

"Since when did you...?"

"Why would such a lovely lady ever want to..."

"I KNEW IT." Kaveh lunges towards Alhaitham, dramatically grabbing him by the collar and vigorously shaking him back and forth. "Ever since that woman showed up, you've been so googly-eyed; it freaked me out for weeks! And here I thought you were physically incapable of feeling love."

Alhaitham rolls his eyes. "Excuse me for wanting to keep my private life private."

Tighnari coughs into his hand, silencing the two men. "Well, since it's not so private anymore, you may as well tell us what's plaguing you."

"The lady lost interest?" Cyno chimes in, resting his head on his hand. "Or perhaps she's being distant. Like an iceberg."

"What does an iceberg have to do with-"

"She hasn't responded to me ever since I tried to kiss her. I'm worried I may have breached her personal space." Alhaitham sighs heavily and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm aware that I might have done something wrong, but she won't even let me apologize."

Kaveh simply rolls his eyes. "Then isn't that the solution? Just leave her alone; clearly she no longer wants anything to do with you, for good reason."

Alhaitham grits his teeth. "It's not that simple; she looked like she wanted to reciprocate, but something held her back."

"Well, you're not gonna know what until you ask her yourself," Tighnari says with a shrug. "See if you can meet her. If she gave you her address, go to her house or something. You're just gonna keep asking yourself questions until you go crazy."

"He's plagued with the love bug," Cyno hums thoughtfully. "You should bring flowers. She seems like the type to like Sumeru roses."

Alhaitham's eye twitches. "Actually, she prefers rainbow roses. I'll be off; it's exactly 5 PM."

He swiftly gathers his things and leaves the office, glaring at the piles of unfinished work he's intentionally putting off until the next week. He has much more important things to contemplate than the office goals for the next month.

He needs to find a way to meet you. He has too many things to say, and no way to say them.

What should he do? Should he go to your workplace and see if you're in? Should he be a freak and try to track down your phone? Should he-

Ding~

The soft tinkle of his message tone hits his ears, and he yanks his phone out to look at the screen... and nearly drops the device onto the ground.

Rainbow Rose 🌹: Sorry for not responding. Please come meet me. I'd like to talk to you about some things.

Attached is the address to Puspa Cafe. He immediately starts calculating in his head the fastest way to get there, what to order, what to say to you.

I'm sorry for invading your privacy. I want us to be closer. What can I do to be allowed into your space? How can I prove to you that I'm different from the person in your dreams?

By the time he's finalized what he wants to say, he already sees you through the window of the cafe, sipping on some specialty drink. The setting sunlight frames your face so perfectly, the words he planned fall through his mind and onto the floor beneath him.

But he swallows the rock in his throat and approaches you.

You blink up at him and smile softly. "Alhaitham. Sorry for calling you in such short notice. Please, sit." You gesture down at the seat in front of you.

But he's unnerved; you're polite and distant again, just like how you were when the two of you first met.

He has so many questions, but they all narrow down to the same thing: Were the dreams too much for you? Are you still willing to see him again?

"How is your head?" is all he can manage to ask you.

You nod. "It's alright. Thanks for asking." Then you scratch your head and lower your gaze to the ground. "Alhaitham. I don't think we should meet anymore."

The words don't process in his mind until you're halfway through some spiel. Then his blood turns to ice.

"...Pardon?"

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "That night, when my head started hurting after we..." Your cheeks flush, and you glare at your cup. "The dreams wouldn't let me sleep. Every one of them involved you, hating me. They're so vivid, I know you and I both know that it's not a coincidence anymore. And I'm worried that-"

Alhaitham stops listening.

You don't want to meet him anymore. Cyno's words echo in his mind: the lady lost interest.

You don't want to see him. He may never see you again.

He's brought out of his mental spiral when you brush your hand against his.

"Alhaitham?" you ask quietly, too softly. Like a hunter speaking soothingly to a dying animal. "You lost focus."

"I..." He's dumbfounded; Alhaitham has never been lost for words, yet now his tongue refuses to move, his lips refuse to speak, glued together with fear and desperation.

You stare at the ground, hair covering your eyes. "...I understand. I'll take my leave. Thank you... for everything. It was..." He sees you bite your lip, a tear slipping down your cheek, and you stand up and leave.

He simply stares at your seat until the doorbell chimes lightly behind you.

He cannot process anything, not with your rejection still echoing in his mind, clouding his senses, your tears polluting his conscious.

...Your tears.

...You were crying.

The cogs in his brain turn once more.

He stands up so abruptly, he knocks his chair back, and throws himself outside the door, sprinting towards you.

And when he calls to you, your shoulders turn.

His heart burns with hope.

"I can't accept that," he pants, grabbing hold of your shoulders and gently turning you towards him. His hold is weak, enough for you to slip through his fingers if you pull away hard enough.

You don't pull away.

"Alhaitham, what are-" you start, but he cradles your face in his hands, staring deep into your eyes, and you fall silent.

"You said we shouldn't meet because of the dreams." His thumbs draw circles onto your soft cheeks, and archons above, he wants to kiss them. "Would it be more accurate to say that you feel that way towards the man in them?"

You blink at him, confused. He nearly coos at how adorable you look.

"What do you think about me? Do you think of me as someone who hates you?"

"No." His heart warms at your instantaneous answer. But it stops at your next sentence. "But my body doesn't feel that way. My head doesn't feel that way. The dreams... You hated me since the moment I..." You freeze, and become stiff in his hold.

But when he rubs your cheeks again, you melt into him, stumbling on your own two feet into his arms. And he cradles you against him, as though if he pressed his body into yours hard enough, the two of you could combine and never be apart.

"...I can't promise you that I won't be like him, the one in your dream...The me of the past," he whispers into your hair. "But I can tell you this now: I am not so foolish as to let you slip from my hands yet again."

Your eyes water with tears; you don't know whether to move closer or move away. Your brain is mush; Alhaitham's cologne fills your nose until all you can see, smell, hear, is Alhaitham.

"He was foolish; he made his choices and regretted them too late. I have already made my choice, and I choose you."

You gasp, just the lightest of breath, and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb.

"I chose you, and I will always choose you. And under no circumstances are you obligated to choose me in return." But he smiles so sweetly at you that tears well up, both in your eyes and his. "But if you choose me, I swear that I will never repeat his mistakes. I will build us a future here, from the ground up, and earn your trust, piece by piece. And I will never let you go again."

Your body flushes hot, urging you to flee his grasp and never return.

He hasn't changed, your mind whispers to you. He is just as cruel, callous, and selfish as ever.

He gently places his forehead on yours, and closes his eyes. "Take as much time as you need," he says. "I will always be here."

"...Will you?" you ask, voice so quiet that it blends into the background.

But Alhaitham hears you. Loud and clear.

He smiles. "Always."

Your body hates you. You should hate yourself, perhaps, for being too weak.

But you melt into his arms, where he encloses you with his warmth and security.

And when your mind tries to overwhelm you, your heart tells it to be silent.

[...]

"It's been awhile."

You scoff, refusing to look at him. Alhaitham chooses to look down below at your respective reincarnations sleeping peacefully. He- the newer him- embraces you tightly in his arms, and you- the newer you- snuggle closer to his warmth.

Alhaitham- the old Alhaitham- smiles. You- the old you- do not.

"Foolish girl," you sigh heavily. "I tried to warn her, yet she never listened. She's only going to fall into the same trap I did."

"...Perhaps she won't," he counters, hovering closer to you. "Perhaps she, and he, are a little more intelligent than we were. Wisdom comes with age... and experience. Something we lacked then." He glances down at them again. "Something they have now."

"Only because of us," you grumble. "And here I am, trying to pass down my wisdom, and she refuses to listen. Is stubbornness just something we're destined to have, I wonder?"

"Perhaps," he chuckles. "And perhaps, she is also building her own wisdom based on her own experiences. As is he." He glances down at his other self. "If he only relied on my memories, he would have never even approached her. He would be a coward like I was, and hold all his feelings in until it's too late."

You say nothing. He smiles softly, and gently touches your hand. When you don't move away, he slowly wraps his arm around you, resting his head on your shoulder, savoring your warmth (or what you have... given you're both spirits).

"Our story has long come to a close," Alhaitham murmurs. "But theirs is different. Let's let them be. Maybe they'll be much different from us."

You grumble in his hold, but don't pull away. "I didn't take you to be the type to make irrational predictions."

"Death does do things to a person's mentality," he muses. "After all, you wouldn't let me touch you like this in life."

You huff, but don't say anything in retort.

And he holds you, just as his counterpart does, until the sun rises and melts the darkness away. Them with it.

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

A/N: this took way too long to write (thanks law school), also tumblr is a b*stard and wouldn't let me write in my drafts so I had to copy paste everything when it was 3/4 finished 🥲

And yes, this sucks- deal with it XD

#genshin impact #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader

[lovelykhaleesiii]

The Wolf & the Stray Girl. Chapter #1 The Grieving.

PAIRING: Werewolf!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Little Red Riding Hood AU]

WORDS: 1942.

SUMMARY: Nestled in the outskirts of a desolate village, it was known that the woods were a dark, fearsome place not to be ventured. Yet something enchanting lived amongst its shadows, you were certain. And some may call it your bold willingness or others, your naive curiosity, would ultimately uncover the truth.

WARNINGS: mentions of stalker tendencies, mentions of murder/intrusion.

A/N - apologies for the long wait, I took some time away from writing. I sometimes feel my place in this fandom is non-existent. I realise now, that it does not matter. I came here to write for characters I love... that is what I intend to do. thank you for your patience, to those that continue to support me x

The long, treacherous road that laid ahead of you, the further you would venture into the dark, enchanted woods was not one to be taken lightly. Although, far from harm's way so long as you remained stagnant in your pathway: not befallen to whatever temptations lurked in the shadows beyond the winding, cobblestoned thoroughfare. Your final destination was intended to be a quick visit to your beloved grandmother, with the hopeful, pleasant exchange of goods. Her cinnamon cookies were divine, especially when and almost always freshly baked.

Despite having travelled this familiar road many times before, both with the thorough guidance of your father and your now presumed late elder sister, it never ceased to feel eerie. A nauseating sensation in the deepest pit of your stomach would always churn and writhe with suspicions that curious, watchful eyes lingered over your every move, your every trail. A terrible suspicion that some of these eyes intended to harm you.

The harrowing, cold tone of your father’s stern words had been etched into your malleable mind, like a carving in stone.

“Stay on that path, girl… Or we have lost you already.”

Your father had grown much old and weary of late, since your elder sister had been declared missing. He scouted relentlessly day and night himself, into the woods. Only to return empty handed, with proof of his exhausting endeavours saturated across his seldom face. His eyes once so lively that gleamed bright with joy: a man that could once smile with his eyes, now only distraught with the strained look of grief and despair.

It took you countless attempts to persuade him otherwise, to allow you to venture the journey yourself, until he finally agreed, although with great reluctance. He knew you were much more diligent and obedient than your elder, always adhering to orders without the temptation to cross a boundary. Your father trusted you, however he did not trust whatever creatures laid abed in the lush dark green canopy of the woods.

“Stay on the path, Y/N, my dearest… Or else I cannot bear to live a life where I lose you too.”

The luminescent indigo pigment of the petals had immediately caught your attention. Your active eyes would wander with marvel, fleeting from the defined path that laid ahead, to beyond the stretch of woods.

"Ocean tears" You breathlessly whisper, your eyelids widening with intrigue as you lust over the rare sight. Ocean Tears were a sacred commodity to come by so naturally: used for medicinal and curative remedies, your mind immediately soared to the sickly, malnourished state of your father. The toll of his insomnia, poor appetite and overall dejected state had been taxing to his health, since the disappearance of your sister. He was not the once formidable, strong man he had once been in the previous years...

The treasure itself was only a few short paces off the pathway itself. Your mind began to scatter, trying to outweigh the risks against the pros. Despite wearingly trying to convince yourself to stay on path, desperate to strain every brain fibre to obligate your body to adhere to your father's wishes, you unconsciously felt your body pacing forward, reaching the very edge of the elevated path. Your eyes darted from each side of the vast forest vicinity: delicately scanning every inch, crevice and shadow of the engulfing green and wooden shrubbery [with the Ocean Tears being the only source of colour in the portrait].

"Forgive me, Father," You utter beneath your breath, before taking a careful leap forwards. Now both feet firmly planted on the soft, soiled grown, the earth beneath felt somewhat alleviating. Having spent a few solid hours, with nothing but the rigid, uneven rocky stones beneath your feet, walking uphill and down, this mundane sensation was a relief like no other.

Only a few seconds had need passing, as you slowly began to regain your instinctual senses, realising the daunting extremity of your decision. Without wanting to spare precious seconds more, you hastily pace forward towards the vibrant flower, basking in the alluring scent, as you push aside the straightened flaps of your crimson red hooded cape. Delicately you begin to pluck at the petals, one fallen strand landing into the base of your woven, wooden basket.

Disciplined in your actions, your once whole and lively senses had once again melt away, unaware of a figure creeping up from the shadows.

"It seems someone has lost their way from the path..."

The unthreatening tone was low and husky, and yet its sudden volume shattering the vast, swallowing silence was frightful: dire enough to freeze your entire being in time.

Your fearful eyes met the immediate, still gaze of the strange man: a handsome, ethereal looking one, nonetheless. With moonlight tinged hair, short, silver strands almost blinding in the radiating beams of sunlight, his unfaltering lilac orbs were encapsulating. Conflicted to stare, yet unable to maintain constant contact. Although there was some distance between you both, you could tell he was a few, solid inches taller than yourself, his physicality sturdy, and robust appearing. There was no doubt, if he caught you in his midst, it would be meaningless to fight agains him. He practically oozed might. Although his facial features softened, almost angelic like, the healed yet evident scars slashed across his pale skin, made him look rugged: proof that he was no stranger to brute savagery.

He took a cautious, slow step forward, almost hesitant to, yet determined. In rhythm, you took a step back instinctually, causing him to take no further step closer.

"I wish not to harm you, I only wish to speak to you."

Although the nerves rattled you, his tempting words had somewhat puzzled you.

Who was this stranger? Had he been watching you from afar this entire time? Why the desire to speak?

"And why would I do that? Do you think of me as some naive prey? You are nothing but a stranger to me, what makes you think I will take your word?"

His endearing glare remained fixated on you this entirety, although you struggled to reciprocate, its enticing nature was captivating. His stout chest heaving generously, before exhaling a defeated sigh.

"You have no reason to trust me, Y/N... Although I have been watching you from the distance, since the moment you departed. I know where you sleep, I know where you seek solace... If you think you can wave me off, just know, I will be lingering. Your scent-"

Once more, he takes a solid pace forward, although this time with a dark, menacing tinge in his eyes, as he looms his head down to your eye level. Another pace further, as you try to maintain the distance between, taking a step back, as you firmly grip your basket's carved handle.

"W-What are you? W-Who are you?" You shamelessly stutter, your skin growing cold, sensing a drop in temperature in your body.

"I could smell you from miles away: that intoxicating scent. First hit me, when you first ventured these woods, that year ago. No matter how hard I tried, and I had tried to fight against it, yet I could not bear to ignore it any longer. From the countless sleepless nights, and long days, I had no choice... And seeing you now... You did not disappoint."

"G-Get away from me!" You recklessly shout: your yells could either result in aid working in your favour or against, drawing more unwarranted attention from dark figures. Your head paced backwards and forwards, from where the man stood ahead of you, inching in closer and closer, as you desperately tried to move yourself back to the footpath.

"I am no ordinary man, Y/N. I am Aegon. And you... You have no ordinary fate."

"Do not speak of my name again, fiend! Leave me alone!"

As you hastily turned your back, taking a risky lunge forward, planting your unsteady foot on top the solid ground of the pathway. You had only turned momentarily, and yet as you resumed your stance once more, you were faced with only the empty, glooming green of the forest, and its chilling silence. A few solid minutes had passed, your attention spanning across the shrubbery, inspecting every inch, for an ounce of proof that this Aegon, remained close by.

Although your body felt rigid and tense, sensing the hot blood coursing through your vessels. Your dense breathing felt heavy and restricting across your chest, as you tried to regain control.

Without a second to spare, you resumed your stroll, although with greater speed. Your mind fled to the echoing, harrowing voice of your father's words, and the guilt began to stir. You rebelled against his advice and the repercussions were close to fatal.

As your mind pondered over Aegon's words, your body carrying itself with each heavy step: your only intent was to make it in one piece...

The sight was unlike anything you had ever seen... The dark, dried traces of blood smeared across the walls and homily furniture, the broken pieces of wood and stained glass scattered messily across the floor, each careful step, an audible crunch beneath your weight. All details pointed to an intrusion, you had conceded. Your broken voice hopelessly calling out for your grandmother, as you slowly paced across the hallway, eyes peering across the vicinity for a remote sign of her. And yet, only silence had responded.

The hot tears swelling in your eyes had blurred your vision, as you took in each inch and crevice of the household. The day had been a harrowing one indeed, and to be met with this tragic fate, did no justice to ease your mind. As you crept towards the end of the hall, the familiar door to your grandmother's cosy chamber slightly remained unlock, only the disappearing sunlight lurking through. As you steadily pushed over the door, creaking in its hinges as though the house had not been vacant and unkept for years, you were met with a horrifying sight indeed. A pungent, horrid smell wafted through your nostrils, as you captured a glimpse of her unmoving, blood curdling body across the flood board. Suddenly, your vision had darkened into an abyss, the sight disappeared.

"Y/N-" The call of your name was unforeseen, yet its voice sounded eerily familiar. The hand that was stationed over covering your eyes, was sudden yet brought some relief, sparing you the gruesome sight. Your hand clutched at your heart, above your tender breast, as you felt your body being handled, gently guided to turn towards the direction of the voice.

"A-Aegon-" Eyes widening in disbelief as the hand released its clutch over your eyesight: you felt numb towards his presence as the over-looming sense of grief drowned you, otherwise. Your father had suffered enough anguish thus far, you could not bear to bring him the burden of more sorrowful news.

What has become of your family's fate? Had some curse plagued your family? Had some ill-minded person wished nothing more than to bestow such affliction unto you all?

"Y/N, dearest- You need to come with me, right now-"

With no caution to his actions, his warm hands, its raw texture rough felt against your soft palms, as he held your cold peripherals tightly. Reassurance oozed from him, as his large hand further reached over, tenderly brushing aside a fallen, misplaced strand of hair from your face, before his thumb caressed the fallen tear away.

You knew better than to show an ounce of trust towards Aegon, and yet, you felt somewhat protected in his presence.

"Y/N, please-"

taglist [for this series] - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @heavenly1927 @snowprincesa1 @trifoliumviridi @fulltacoparadise @qyburnsghost

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for divider - @/firefly-graphics

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #werewolf!Aegon ii #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii angst #hotd #house of the dragon

[bubybubsters]

Impossible (prologue)

A/n: idk. Just an explanation for a in progress chapter one (no I haven’t started chapter one, idk when it’ll be out, I have my last year of hs (wish me luck). I do have a life ya know).

Mutuals you are my inspiration! (Not gonna tag you cuz idk if you want to be)

masterlist one two three

pairing: azriel x reader, Eris x reader, Azriel x Eris

word count: 980 + 1

⚠️: nah

Azriel’s POV

Azriel stormed through the doors to the forest house as his rage took over. You was here, you had to be. Elain had left without a word and that’s when he realized he’d made a very big mistake. He’d been entranced by Elain, following whatever she said without question.

Azriel can’t you see? The mother made a mistake. We are meant to be, look at this, look at me. However we can’t be us with y/n still out there, poisoning your brain. You have to reject the bond. For us. Three brothers, three sisters right?

And he’d listened he’d rejected the bond as if the mate the Mother had given him was nothing compared to Elain. He’d tried to reject you in a nice manner but when you’d asked why, he’d given up and became rude and angry. So you had left, the remaining bit of the bond shut off and tucked deep inside both of you. But Azriel could still feel your heart break. Still feel the pain and hurt and betrayal.

And he hadn’t cared.

He reached inside himself now, searching for that bond, pulling it to the surface and tugging. Only to be met with a hard wall of fire. Pure light had always been your shield before but now. Fire? As if you were hurt and raging and broken but also beautiful and healing.

Elain had left, hardly a week after he’d rejected you. She’d disappeared to the band of exiles and hadn’t said a word. Not to Azriel, not even to Feyre or Nesta. But Lucien had visited later and said Elain had just shown up at his doorstep in tears, going on about how Azriel had broken her heart. Azriel had told him his side of the story and the two males had worked it out. Now he presumed, Lucien was trying to understand Elain.

After that they’d all spent a while searching for you. Now Azriel knew you were with Eris and damn him if that didn’t hurt him to his very core. Was he truly so bad that you’d gone to Eris for help?

As he let autumn court soldiers surround him in the greeting foyer, he pushed down his raging feelings and calmed down enough to speak to the captain. “Will you get the high lord for me?”

The captain eyed him for a moment before turning to head up the stairs all while muttering, "we might be allies with the night court but wasn't there a rule about notifying 3 hours before visits?”

Azriel grimaced, he'd forgotten about that but it was too late now. He watched the soldiers move back in place before glancing out the window. The moon was just now starting its descent shining on the misty forests of red, orange and brown.

Soon he heard two pairs of footsteps and the captains voice reached him, "-ed in. Not sure what he wants but he asked to see you and I figured it must be important so I got you."

Eris and the captain appeared at the top of the stairs as Eris dismissed him. The captain bowed, "High Lord", before scuttling away.

Eris groaned his voice raspy from sleep, his hair tousled from being woken up. "To what do I owe this lovely visit at the crack of dawn?"

Azriel grimaced, he hadn’t even looked at the time before coming here and waking Eris up. “My apologies High Lord,” he bit out, bowing his head slightly.

Eris raised his brows, “trying to get on my good side so I’ll let you see y/n? It won’t work shadowsinger, it’s all her choice.”

Azriel didn’t bother looking pleasant, “go ask her then.” At Eris’ frown and obvious hesitation he added, “please, I’m begging you, please.”

“I don’t see you begging.” But despite his words Eris sighed, running a hand through his hair, making it all the more messier. “I’ll do it for her, not you. The two of you need to work it out before she can move on. But if you hurt her shadowsinger….” His face turned cold as steel and he glared to emphasize his point.

Azriel bowed his head in understanding, “Thank you, Eris.” And he meant it, he truly did.

And as Azriel watched Eris walk away, he thought maybe, just maybe, he might be a good male.

*****

Eris’ POV

As Eris opened the door to his bed chambers he thought of how broken the spymaster had seemed. And he felt a sense of sadness and sympathy for the bastard which didn’t bode well with Eris. He never sympathized so why now for you and Azriel?

He strode to the bed and shook you awake, you glared at him through your lashes and through a weak right hook at his head. Eris let it hit before pulling you to her feet. “He’s here, he wants to talk and he looks truly sorry.”

This woke you up fast and you cursed, striding into the closet and changing. The past week you’d started to open up to Eris and talk about what happened, you’ come to his room and each night he would hold you and comfort you when you woke up crying. He was your rock, your friend in this cruel world.

Only he wanted more.

He wouldn’t pressure you in any way to do anything you didn’t want to but this talk with the spymaster had to happen sooner or later. He still wasnt sure why you’d come to him after the bond had been rejected. You’d met a few times at meetings and had been on good terms despite the trouble with Morrigan but otherwise you weren’t good enough friends for you to show up here after Azriel’s rejection. Not that he was complaining, he’d felt drawn to her the moment they’d met, like how mates were drawn together. But that wasn’t possible right? For one to have two mates, but it’d certainly explain why you’d come to him and why Eris had felt sympathy to both spymaster and female.

It isint possible he chided himself as you stepped out fully dressed in your Illyrian leathers. The phrase repeated in his head. Not possible. Impossible (improbable for Nikolai fans) Not possible, no way, not two mates.

but what if it was?

*****

Part 1

thanks for sticking with me through this horrible prologue. You’re all amazing and supportive but I hope you will understand that I’m stressed with college and everything (I’m in my last year of hs).

y’all have a week left until requests close.

taglist

@profound-imagination

I will not tag anyone until explicitly asked to! (Or like idk)

#acotar #bubybubsters #acowar #fanfic #azriel x reader #eris x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #eris x you #eris vanserra #high lord eris #azriel x you #azris #Azriel x eris #azriel shadowsinger #acosf

[honeyedmiller]

Hiiiii

I love your writing. I was wondering can you please write a pedro×reader when they realize that they're pregnant and it's just so sudden and unexpected and shock them both?

aww tysm, and yes omg. Pedro would be the sweetest dad ever 🥺

warnings: mentions of nausea and getting sick, unexpected pregnancy, little bit of angst, fluff. no use of y/n.

word count: <1k

“I don’t feel so good again.” You groan, slowly getting up from bed. Pedro watched you worriedly as you scurried to the bathroom to puke out all of the contents in your stomach, again.

You’d been feeling really nauseated and fatigued the past few weeks, and Pedro was getting really concerned about your well-being.

You felt him rub your back gently as he held your hair back, comforting you through your illness.

“Maybe it’s time we go to the doctors, honey. I’m getting really worried about you.” His voice is soft, full of concern.

You nod your head in agreement, tired of feeling like this nearly twenty-four seven now.

So, the next morning, Pedro took you to a private clinic near his house.

“Good morning Mr. Pascal, Mrs. Pascal,” The doctor said, and you blushed at the assumed last name. It made you blush even harder that Pedro didn’t even try to correct the doctor. “What brings you in today?”

“I’ve been feeling really ill recently. I’m constantly nauseated and so exhausted. I thought it was stress from work but I don’t get like this usually when it becomes tough-going.”

The doctor nodded at what you were telling him, and he hummed. “Have you taken any pregnancy tests lately?”

And just as fast as the color rushed to your face, it drained. “No.” You say meekly, looking over at Pedro who looked just as stunned.

You both tried to be so careful… there’s no way you could be pregnant. Right? Right?

“Well, let’s not be too hasty. Let’s run some tests but I will have you take the pregnancy test just to be sure.” The doctor said, and you nodded.

You proceeded to do a series of tests, but the doctor quickly came back with the shocking news.

“It seems you actually are pregnant, ma’am.” He confirmed, showing you the test results in black ink. You couldn’t believe it.

“But I– I don’t understand. I just had my period a few weeks ago.”

“That could’ve actually been implantation bleeding. I’ll give you two a couple of minutes before I get a sonographer in here to do an ultrasound on you, okay? Congratulations.” He smiled at you both, exiting the room.

It seemed like ages that both of you sat in silence before an overwhelming sense of panic surged over you, and you started to cry.

“I’m so sorry.” You kept muttering, covering your face with your hands. Pedro immediately pried your hands from your face as he embraced you tightly, kissing your head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. It takes two to make a baby, right? I have every much responsibility in this, too.”

“But, what are we going to do? You have filming coming up soon, I have my job… we’ve only been together for a year, Pedro. This is–”

“Sh sh, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” He cooed, rocking you back and forth slowly. “We’ll figure it out, okay? You can quit your job. I make plenty for the both of us. You can come with me to Vancouver, if that’s something you wanted to do. I’m in this with you every step of the way, baby.”

You cried in his arms for a bit before the sonographer came into the room, rolling in the ultrasound equipment.

She smiled sympathetically at the two of you before instructing you to lay back and lift up your shirt.

“The gel is going to be a bit cold. My apologies.” She says before squirting some onto you, taking the wand and moving it around. You could see a tiny figure in the darkness of what you presumed was your uterus.

“There’s baby,” The sonographer said with a soft smile, pointing to various parts of the body. “Looks like you’re about six weeks along.” She concludes, taking snapshots of the screen.

“Little baby Pascal.” Pedro whispered, looking at the screen and then down at you. His grip on your hand got tighter as he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it.

The more you both stared at the screen in wonder, the more you both fell in love with your little creation. You knew it wouldn’t be easy with your hectic lives, but if you were to do this with anyone, you were so glad it was with Pedro.

#pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x pregnant!reader #pedro pascal x female reader

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

The Games We Play and The Lines We Cross

Lucius Malfoy x F!Reader 18+

Words: 2068 Warnings: NSFW, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it ppl).

~MDNI~

A/N: Fuck JK Rowling and her terf bullshit.

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

Working as a secretary at the ministry required a lot more personal stakes than you had expected. The many late nights trying to stay on top of the paperwork for the minister while also making sure he had everything he needed, that you'd weeded out anything he wouldn't be interested in and so much more. Today it required you to keep the company of the illustrious Lucius Malfoy, well, that's how the minister put it, although his tone was fairly sarcastic. However due to the Malfoy's being quite the donors, the Minister had to bite his tongue and he made it quite clear that Malfoy was to be very well looked after while at the ministry, "You're to meet him at the entrance and stay by his side until he leaves."

So there you stood, waiting by the large fountain, eyes searching the crowd for a head of white hair and 2 minutes before his expected arrival you had spotted the man coming out of the floo network. This wasn't your first time attending to this man and you doubted it would be the last, so as usual you straighten yourself and head towards him. "Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy." Your voice taking on the sweet edge, it was a tone you’d learnt to use to make clients feel special. It's no wonder you were a Slytherin really. "Ms y/l/n" his tone was the opposite of yours, cold and indifferent, you knew he could be commanding with a voice like that and you were sure he would be terrifying when angry, the thought of which had you squeezing your thighs together. With a small bow you motioned for him to continue ahead. "The minister is in a meeting and asked me to extend his apologies. He'll be available shortly, in the meantime, I'll take you up to his office." Malfoy exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes flickering to you, "After you then."

The walk to the office didn't take too long, but Lucius was smart in sending you ahead of him. He got to watch the way your mid-thigh length skirt would ride up a bit as you walked, the way it showed every movement of your ass and hips had his eyes glued to it. Only looking away when he noticed you begin to turn to look back at him. This was the 8th time you'd taken him through the ministry, but it’s well over the 100th time Lucius Malfoy found himself thinking of you on your knees before him. Something about the tight skirt, fitted blouse and glasses, your presumably long hair twisted into a low bun with a few strands of h/c hair framing your face perfectly.

Unbeknownst to him however, you chose the shorter skirts for the days you'd be escorting him. Chose to leave the highest buttons on your blouse undone and when you leaned forward to pour him some tea you chose to do it at an angle that gave him the perfect view of your cleavage. Your eyes flickered over to his, catching him looking but instead of embarrassment or anger like he expected, you couldn't help the smirk that pulled at your full lips. Lucius raised a brow, tilting his head slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you turn away. "That's a dangerous game you're playing Ms y/l/n," he spoke with amusement, a dare to step over the line.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about Sir?" you played at innocence, seeing what he preferred, naivety or confidence. He clicked is tongue at you, a sound a teacher would make when you disappoint them, however he didn’t seem overly disappointed as his eyes trailed your form. Before either of you could take the banter further the Minister stepped in, eyes dull and with an air of utter exhaustion. “Cornelius,” Lucius spoke his name with a certain amount of contempt that only he could make sound enticing, the Minister however visibly tensed under the scrutiny of his grey eyes. “Ah, Lucius, good to see you again.” It was a lie; they both knew it and you wondered if the pleasantry would have been dropped had you not been there. Fudge turned his eyes to you and gave a short nod, “Would mind giving us the room dear?” “Of course,” and with a small bow you moved to leave, eyes flickering over to meet Malfoy’s one more time, lips curling into a coquettish smile before you closed the door behind you.

They had been in there about half an hour, the office had a permanent silence spell cast over it so you unfortunately couldn’t eavesdrop on them therefore opting to bide your time with sorting through a series of letters from the public. However, you found yourself perking up at the sound of the door opening. “Ms ‘y/l/n, would you walk Mr Malfoy out please? I’m going for lunch” Fudge spoke, and you stood up, moving to stand by them, smiling up at them both, “Absolutely Sir.” The Minister was quick to walk away and you found yourself looking back to Lucius. “I seem to have left my cane behind,” he mused, looking down at you expectantly. “I’ll go get it for you Sir,” and you headed back into the office.

You had just picked up the cane when you heard the door close, glancing up you were surprised to see Lucius walking over to you, left hand extended. You placed the cane in his hand and he took the opportunity to grab your wrist with his right, pulling you close to him. You were left breathless, eyes wide as you stared up at him, heart racing as you waited for him to make his next move.

“You’ve been very, lascivious, with me, perhaps it’s time I take advantage of that, hm?” his lips curled up into something between a smirk and sneer. It was hard to tell if he was interested or simply making fun of you but you decided to take a chance and inched closer. Placing your free hand on his chest, tilting your head back as your eyes flicked between his and his lips, “Perhaps you should, Lucius” your voice came out just barely above a whisper, breath fanning across his lips. The wizard had no more resolve to cling to and instead of trying he closed the already small gap and pressed his lips flush to yours.

The cane he had been holding was now discarded on the floor, left hand now cupping your jaw as he deepened the kiss. You were not one to submit easily, his tongue slid across your bottom lip and when you didn’t obey, he squeezed your wrist tightly causing you to gasp. He pushed in, exploring your mouth with force, as if he were trying to memorise it as quickly as possible. When he finally broke away you were gasping for hair, his own chest heaving for oxygen.

His eyes flicked over to The Minister’s desk, it was mostly bare, a quill and ink pot along side his name plaque. Deciding that was the best option he turned you around, hand still tightly holding your wrist as he pushed you against it, only letting go once he had you bent over the wooden surface. His hands now trailed down your sides, fingers digging into your hips as he pressed himself against you. He was already hard and the sentiment only made you wetter, thighs squeezing together in response.

“How long does Cornelius take for lunch” Lucius asked as one gloved hand slid under your skirt, slowly bunching the fabric up to your waist. “A-about an hour” you stuttered out, breath hitching again as he dragged the knuckle of his index finger down your clothed cunt, humming as his attention shifted to the clock above the desk for a moment, “Then we haven’t much time.” His fingers tracked back to the hem of your underwear, curling around the band before pulling them down, letting the lace fabric fall to your ankles. “I do wish I had the time devour you, but I’ll settle for ruining you instead.”

The sound you made in response was embarrassing, a whiny moan that only amused the man. You heard the sound of his belt being undone, followed closely by a zipper and you waited with bated breath for him to touch you again. This time when he did however it was the head of his cock that he ran through your folds, another whine causing him to chuckle. “So desperate for me, how very pitiful of you. I wonder if you’d even beg for me to take you.” You didn’t think before you spoke, a whimper followed by your voice pleading with him, “Please, Lucius. Please ruin me, please.” The groan from behind you was a divine sound, even more so when it dropped lower as he sunk himself into you.

The satisfied moan you let out had him gripping your hips tighter, his foot kicking your legs further apart as he began to set a steady pace. Lucius filled you beautifully, enough of a stretch that you were whimpering but not too much to cause discomfort. Your hands curled around the edge of the desk, using the leverage to press back into him, making his thrusts hit harder. “Lucius, gods, Lucius don’t stop” you have huffed out, both of you hitting a stride that was quickly tightening the coils in your lower bellies. He leant forward more, one hand reaching for your hair, entwining amongst the strands and tugging, the bun coming loose from the force.

With your head tilted back your mouth now hung open which made your moans come out louder. You were getting closer so you slipped on hand down, desperately circling your clit. Seeing you do this, Lucius moved the hand in your hair down to replace yours. His fingers were much larger and with the leather gloves he wore it was a smoother friction and it didn’t take much for you to cry out his name, nails biting into the desk as you pressed your cheek to the table. The feeling of your walls clamping around him sent him over into his own high, the grip on your hip most definitely would leave bruises. He leant against you, chest pressed to your back and his lips finding your neck as you both breathed raggedly, the highs of your orgasms wearing off.

After a few minutes he pulled himself away, sliding out of you with a stifled grunt before tucking himself back into his pants. You were still bent over the desk, legs now pressed together as you debated whether they could hold you up. Suddenly you felt his hands at your ankles, gently pulling the underwear you had on back up. It was quiet between you as made yourself presentable. When you looked back over to him, he was stood by the chair, cane in hand as his eyes watched you closely. Deciding that the worse he could do would be to push you away, you stepped back over to him, gently resting your hands on his chest. To your relief he leant down, allowing you the chance to kiss him again, this time however you found yourself running your fingers through his hair, the strands feeling as soft as silk.

“I best be going, if I’m still here when Cornelius returns there’ll be questions” Lucius spoke, his tone returning to neutral but not as cold as before. “Shall I walk you out still?” “That was your order, no?” Smiling gently up at him you did as you had promised and walked him back down to the floo network. He stopped, turning those stunning eyes back to you, “I’ll make all my appointments just before The Ministers lunch from now on, it seems better suited for me, don’t you think?” His lips quirked up into a smirk, and your cheeks dusted pink as you looked up at him, understanding the promise of more from him. “I can certainly make that work for you Sir.” With a short hum, he turned away and headed into line. You watched him leave before returning to your desk outside Cornelius’s office. The Minister returning only moments after you. “Malfoy didn’t give you any trouble, did he?” Cornelius asked as he pulled open his office door. “No Sir, no trouble at all.”

#lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy #x reader #reader #fic #harry potter #hp #smut #lucius malfoy x you #reader insert #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy imagine #lucius malfoy smut

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Three

Y'all asked for it! (bunch of bad influences if you ask me 😛)

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 11.5k (I'M SORRY???!!!)

Chapter Summary: You get needy. Dave gets bossy. Marcus gets stuck in the middle.

Notes: Ok we definitely have to show some love for Marcus in this one since he was left out a fair bit in the last, but not to worry, Dave certainly isn’t going to allow you two to have too much fun without him ;)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Ok here we go... F/M/M threesome. Cucking/Wife sharing. Derogatory Language (in this house we do not apologize for Dave York or his sinful mouth). Orgasm Control/Delay/Denial (Dave is a menace and we don't apologize for that either). Cockwarming. Dry humping. Daddy kink. Praise kink. Soft!Dave York (but rarely). Dom!Dave York (that's more like it). CozyHusband!Marcus Pike (protect your heart, or you'll fall in love). Oral sex (m and f receiving). Rough oral sex. Biting (just one bite). Slaps/spanks/swats (just a few). Sex toys (m and f usage). Anal play/fingering/plug (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Rough P in V sex. Creampie. If I missed anything else I'm sorry but there's a lot... Lmk if you find something!

“Baby?” You whisper into the darkened bedroom, snuggling up a little closer into Marcus’ naked back and he hums affirmatively that he hears you. It's late but you can't sleep. You know you should, since you both have work in the morning but suddenly sleeping seems like such a waste of time when you know there's something so much better you could be doing with your very handsome, very naked husband.

“Are you… awake?” You begin teasingly, your fingers dancing along his side and then smoothing down over his abdomen and retreating lower and lower until you reach his happy trail and tentatively threaten to go lower still.

“Honey,” Marcus groans slightly, his voice thick with sleep. “I have to be up in…” he pauses to look blearily at his watch. “Four hours” he finishes with a deep sigh.

“Four - what? Why?” You immediately question. It wasn’t even quite midnight yet and the two of you typically didn't get up until around 7.

“Conference call. London office” he mumbles into his pillow before nestling further into it. He doesn’t have to turn around and look at you to know you’re pouting behind him and he releases a sigh and rolls over to you anyway.

“I’m sorry” he says genuinely and you frown, feeling guilty for making him feel bad. In his defense, you’ve been exceptionally needy lately and taking it out on him (not that he seemed to mind, however).

“It’s ok baby, I’m sorry. I forgot you had to be up early tomorrow, go to sleep” you tell him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“Maybe um…” Marcus begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why don’t you text Dave, he’s always up late”

“What?!” You ask, taken aback. You had yet to even say one word in your little group chat. So far it had only been Dave and Marcus and even they hadn’t said much. They hadn’t texted at all actually since the last time Dave was over when it was just the two of you a couple weeks back.

“Well we’ve talked about it right, we want to see him again” Marcus reasons with a shrug. “Maybe you should let him know”

It was true, you had discussed it after the last time with Dave and you had both agreed you wanted to try it again, this time with all three of you there. You decided to give it a little bit of time though. For starters you didn't want to seem desperate, and secondly Dave had a life, presumably, that didn't revolve around your and Marcus' eager sex drives.

“Why me?” You ask incredulously.

“I don’t know, just, you haven’t said anything in the chat yet, might be good to let him know that you’re interested too, you know? Let him feel good, let him know you’re thinking about him” Marcus shrugs again.

Part of you does wonder if any of that could be true. Surely Dave had to know you're interested, you thought you'd shown that to him (multiple times, thank you very much Dave). Then again, you had the same doubts yourself before your solo session with Dave, wondering if he was really all that interested in you as he hadn't directly addressed you about it so maybe Marcus was on to something. Besides, everybody likes confirmation, you think. Likes to feel wanted and know they're wanted, that someone is thinking about them.

Yeah, maybe Marcus was right.

“Plus knowing Dave he can probably get you off with a fucking text message, that guy is… I need to start taking notes” Marcus huffs a moment later and that earns a little giggle from you.

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know, something sexy” Marcus says, playful little eyebrow raised at you.

“Hmmm” you think for a moment and Marcus settles again, this time facing you but closing his eyes like he’s at least going to attempt to get some sleep. You roll onto your back and reach for your phone on your night stand and tap it against your chin a few times while you think of something to say and then it comes to you and you quickly open up your group conversation and your fingers fly across the keyboard and hit send before you have time to talk yourself out of it.

Missing my Daddy tonight… wish he was here to tuck me in 🥺

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nerves unsettled as you see the three dots appear on the screen just moments later.

Naughty girl, shouldn’t your husband be doing that?

He’s tired 😞 you quickly type back and you don’t even notice Marcus had reached for his own phone until his message appears on the screen next.

She wore me out, York. I’ve tapped out, need a pinch-hitter here. comes Marcus’ reply and then you look over to see him toss his phone onto his own night stand before he gets comfortable again, places a kiss to your shoulder and murmurs a goodnight, seemingly fine to leave you to your messaging with Dave so he can get some sleep. Not only does he trust you, but regardless he’ll see the messages in the morning.

Ah, a needy little slut then Dave responds and you can see the little smirk that must be on his face right now.

Bet you’re already wet just lyin’ there, huh? Waiting for that needy little hole to be filled up good

“Oh fuck” you whimper softly, suddenly wishing Marcus could be wide awake to take care of you the way you're aching for. As it is you’ll have to do it yourself, though you’re starting to think it won’t be so bad with Dave on the other end of the phone to encourage you. One hand slips under the comforter and smoothes down the plane of your stomach but stops just shy of your waistline and you hastily type into your phone again, best you can one-handed, an idea striking you that you think will get Dave worked up even further which should only work to your benefit, you hope.

May I touch myself, please? you ask sweetly in an attempt to stroke his dominant ego.

Jesus, got two cocks at your disposal and still not enough for ya, huh? Sounds to me like someone needs to learn a lesson in self control

Damnit. Your attempt to get Dave riled up seems to have backfired and now you’re going to be paying the price. Your hand falls away from your waist and comes back up to hold your phone so you’re able to type two-handed once again. You’re about to reply and object to Dave when another message from him pops up before you have a chance.

I think I want you to wait. Both of you, come to think of it. I’m out of town but I’ll be back Sunday. Usual time work for you guys?

Sunday?! It was only Wednesday night now. He expects you to go nearly four days without fooling around with Marcus? That will be nearly the longest you’ve ever gone since you got married three years ago.

Four days... moments ago you were whining that you'd have to wait four hours, in hopes Marcus would have time for a quickie before work, and now you had to wait four days?! You're not sure you can.

Daddy, please you try in a desperate plea.

Argue with me and I’ll make it another week Sweetheart he responds immediately and you pout, despite the fact that he can’t see you.

Besides, good things cum to those who wait 😉 He replies cheekily.

But bad little girls and boys don’t get to cum at all he follows up threateningly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

You’re not sure how Marcus is going to feel about any of this when he sees what transpired while he was asleep, how you’ve accidentally cockblocked him for the rest of the week. But really this was his fault. He told you to text Dave in the first place knowing full well neither of you could ever predict what the man might say or do.

Tell me you understand baby he says when a minute goes by and you’ve left him on read.

I understand 😞 you quickly send back. Yes, Sunday, usual time.

Good girl. Get some sleep. And baby?

Yes?

I wish I was there to tuck you in too 👅😈

You let out a groan at the teasing little tongue emoji he's used (the devil tracks though, you'll give him that), bringing your phone down to clutch at your chest. Of course Dave could simultaneously rev you up and shut you down, the tease. You’re beyond horny now with not only no one to relieve it, but now you’re apparently not even allowed to relieve it yourself. You suppose Dave would never know, but truly the little game excites you and you know it’ll just be that much sweeter a release if you do play along. Marcus may take some convincing. But then again, maybe not. He’s surprised you well enough so far.

The next few days seem to drag on relentlessly. If anything, knowing you can’t get off makes you even more insatiable. Thankfully Marcus seems to be in the same boat so he doesn’t immediately push you off of him when you climb into his lap while he’s watching tv or sitting at his desk in his home office he uses occasionally and the two of you make out like teenagers, pawing at each other over clothes and grinding against one another until you’re breathless.

“He wouldn’t even have to know” Marcus whines into your throat one particularly heated session, the head of his hard cock pressing against you through layers of clothes. He had already managed to get you down to just your t-shirt and underwear as you sat straddling him in his office chair but thankfully he was still confined behind the thick material of his jeans.

“Baby” you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. It was Saturday morning, you could go one more day.

You think…

But then, oh but then, he rocks forward and his clothed cock notches at your entrance, pushing the thin cotton barrier of your panties inside of you along with his tip and your resolve nearly crumbles.

“Oh fuck” you let out in a tiny gasp.

“Let me take care of you Honey, please” Marcus begs, face nuzzled into the side of your neck as his lower half continues to grind against you causing a delicious friction. “I’ll make you feel so good”

You know he would, and you want him to. More than anything. Well, maybe not anything, because what’s playing at the back of your mind is how good it’s going to feel to share this intense relief soon enough not only with Marcus, but with Dave as well. You let out another little whine as Marcus' hands on your hips push you harder into his lap and your eyes slam shut as your resolve threatens to break once and for all.

You hear the clink of Marcus’ belt buckle and your eyes fly open to look down to see him hastily tugging at it and finally your brain catches up to your frantic libido and you put both hands down on his to stop him.

“No, fuck, please” Marcus huffs, forehead coming down to rest against yours as his breath comes out in short puffs, trying to get himself under control. He knows he almost had you.

“Baby, I really want to, you know I do” you begin, softly assuring him and rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “But just think how amazing tomorrow night is going to be. It’s what I want, for both of us and… I thought you did too” you try, a little pout on your lips.

“Fuck” Marcus curses, removing his hands from his belt to grab the sides of your face and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry baby.” He continues a moment later. “I wanna give you what you want, of course I do. It’s just hard. Like… really fucking hard” he emphasizes his point by rutting against you once more and you laugh.

“For me too baby” you promise him, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you snuggle your face into his shoulder.

And it was. Torturous, even. Men can whine all they want about blue balls and about how much harder it is for them, but you know full well in this moment you're giving Marcus a run for his money for sure.

“I haven’t wanted you this bad since our third date” you confess and that catches his attention. He lifts your chin to look at you.

“We didn’t have sex until our fifth date” he reminds you.

“Oh, I’m well aware” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “Could've had me on our third” you shrug innocently and his eyebrows shoot up.

“At the museum?!” he asks, shocked, as he recalls your third date together.

“Plenty of dark corners” you shrug mischievously. “I would’ve let you” you tease, a grin crossing your lips and he huffs a breath and lets his head fall back.

“Jesus, if you’re trying to get me to not fuck you right now, this is not the way to do it” he groans and you let out a laugh but decide to let him somewhat out of his misery and push yourself up out of his lap and shimmy back into your earlier discarded leggings.

“Make you a deal,” you say suddenly, an idea coming to mind. His attention seems peaked as he straightens back up in his chair and leans forward slightly.

“If we can restrain from driving each other crazy the rest of the day, we can reward ourselves by going to sleep with you inside me again” you propose, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Oh my god” Marcus groans, rubbing his hands over his face and you smirk. You knew he loved that the first time you’d done it. You’re not sure how it’s going to go this time though, given how close to the edge you’ve both already been for days but you want to try. You hadn't done it again since the first time, when you were too worn out to do much more than hold him inside you. Anytime he'd been inside you since then you'd both been far too ravenous to even consider it but tonight seems like a promising opportunity to try again. You just hope you can both handle it.

“Now go cut the grass or check the chemical levels in the hot tub or I don’t know, go to Home Depot, whatever the fuck you men do on Saturdays to keep yourselves occupied and your minds out of the gutter” you tease, swatting at his shoulder and he catches your hand and pulls it to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

“Fine, evil woman” he sighs and you giggle. “Last time I ever encourage you to text with Dave again without supervision” you hear him grumble under his breath as he gets out of his chair and places his hands on your hips to push you out of the room with him, your laughter at his playfulness following you out into the hallway.

Thankfully you both manage to keep busy with little chores and errands throughout the day and when he finally sinks inside of you that night it’s like all the pressure of the world is off your shoulders and nothing else exists but the two of you. You’re surprised and yet not that he behaves himself and doesn’t try and move or fuck you. Just stays buried inside you with his face in your neck, breathing you in and whispering little adorations against your skin while he plants tiny kisses there and you sigh as your arms wrap around his at your waist until you both fall asleep.

You wake up the next morning to a note on the empty pillow beside you, informing you that Marcus has gone for a run, and that tracks for him. Typically when he’s stressed he runs and the way you’ve had each other worked up the last few days you won’t doubt if he sets a personal record for distance today. You sit up in bed and reach for your phone to check your notifications and see a message alert for your group chat with you Marcus and Dave and you don’t fail to notice how your heart beat speeds up instinctively before you’ve even opened it.

You press down on the notification and hold your breath when the page opens up.

Hope you two have been behaving yourselves because if you think this is punishment, you haven’t seen anything yet.

His vague threat hangs in the air and sends heat straight to your lower abdomen and you wiggle slightly in your seated position on the bed.

Marcus had replied with a single emoji that made you laugh out loud.

🫡

You pull your lip between your teeth, debating writing a reply. You want to, but you don’t need any more encouragement for your aching and needy cunt. Your fingers hover over the keys for several long moments until you finally think 'fuck it’ and type out a response anyway.

Being so good for my Daddy 😇

With that you toss your phone onto the bed and head off to the bathroom.

It’s a cold shower kind of morning.

The rest of the day goes by mostly uneventfully. You’ve taken some of the edge off with your cold shower and Marcus with his run and you’re both seemingly able to function again as real human beings and not horny teenagers ramped up on hormones. You go out for brunch together, then the farmers market and finally a pit stop at your favorite coffee shop before heading home to bide your time until Dave comes over.

By the time dinner is over you’re both checking your watches nearly every five minutes while you snuggle up on the couch watching tv, pretending not to notice when either of you does it until finally it hits 9:00 and a shudder of anticipation rolls through you. Marcus sits up a little straighter, smoothing his hands over his thighs and releasing a deep breath and you pull your legs up under you and reach for your wine glass to take another tentative sip to calm your nerves.

In the past Dave had been extremely punctual, but tonight, of course tonight, he was not.

Minutes tick by and you’ve already refilled your wine glass and Marcus’ for another while you wait impatiently. Finally both your phones ding at the same time and it’s comical the way you both scramble for the two devices lying on the coffee table, eager to read the message.

Sorry, flight was a little delayed getting in, set me back a few minutes. Leaving my place now. Why don’t you two start warming each other up, I’ll be there soon. Don’t have too much fun without me though.

You and Marcus both share a look before Marcus types out a quick reply, giving Dave the door code and telling him to let himself in when he gets here and then he’s up off the couch and a you shriek in surprise when he hauls you up as well, grabbing one of your arms and legs and tossing you over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry and practically running to the stairs.

“Oh my god, Marcus!” You’re giggling uncontrollably at his eagerness as he bounds up the stairs to your bedroom. He reaches the top of the stairs and to your very delighted surprise he lands a little swat to your ass and you jerk in his arms.

“Baby,” you whine. The giggles are gone in an instant, your voice breathy and trembling.

He eases you down his front until your legs wrap around his waist and he kisses you deeply as he walks you into the bedroom, holding you up at the end of the bed before unceremoniously tossing you onto the mattress and your giggles are back at his edgy playfulness.

He’s still standing and he reaches behind him to tug his shirt up and over his head before he kneels down on the mattress, crawling over you like a predator stalking its prey and forcing you to lie down underneath him.

“Baby, holy shit, you’re so fucking hot right now” you praise him, bringing a hand up to push through his hair and you don’t miss the blush that rises in his cheeks. He’s trying, and he wants this, but you know he’s still a little outside of his comfort zone to be dominant towards you so you try to make sure you constantly reassure him.

“Yeah?” He asks shyly and you nod your head enthusiastically.

“See for yourself” you challenge, taking his hand and putting it between your bodies and sliding it down, down, down.

“Fuck” Marcus huffs, pushing his hand down inside your shorts and underwear until his fingers are met with the sticky mess between your legs. “Goddamn, I love how wet you get” he hums against the side of your face, trying to control his breathing.

“I love how wet you make me” you counter and he groans before kissing you hard, unsure how much more of you talking like this to him he can take if he’s still got to have some semblance of control of himself until Dave gets here.

“Fuck, let me go down on you, please” Marcus begs between heated kisses, his fingers deftly exploring you below and you let out a whine but shake your head.

“Baby, I’ll cum, fuck, I can’t” you shake your head again. Your hands come to clutch in his hair as his fingers continue to lazily stroke you and your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, desperate to chase his touch.

“I can’t wait any longer” Marcus argues weakly. “Please Honey” he pleads and you don’t know if you can take it anymore but you're pretty sure the moment his tongue hits your aching core you'll fall apart instantly. You're dangerously close already and he's barely done anything.

“Fuck” you sob. You’re going to break, you know it. But you’re only human and you fucking tried, nobody can argue that. Your soft moans and whimpers fill the otherwise silent room as Marcus' mouth slowly transcends down your body until he's at your waist, hands at your hips with the material of your shorts in his grasp and he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes of his, silently asking for permission and you feel the last ounce of your resolve finally crumble. You need this, and one little firm nod of your head towards Marcus can get it for you.

Before you have a chance to give in, however, you hear the distinct sound of a throat clearing that isn’t you or Marcus and you push away from each other like you’d just been burned.

You both turn onto your backs, propped up on elbows and look dead on to the source of a good portion of the reason for your pent up sexual frustration, the one and only Dave York. He’s standing at the end of the bed, casually rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“What did I say about having too much fun without me?”

“We weren’t - we didn’t - Daddy please, we waited, just like you said” you blurt out hurriedly in a weak attempt to explain. Thank god he hadn't walked in thirty seconds later, you think idly.

“We were just… playing” you shrug, feigning innocence.

“Mmm” Dave hums, seemingly mulling over whether or not he believes you. His gaze darts over to Marcus whose erection is straining against his sweatpants and then back to you, squirming under his gaze in your tank top and soft cotton shorts.

“She telling the truth, Pike?” Dave asks, turning his head back to Marcus who nods his head.

“I’ll admit, I tried” Marcus confesses, turning to look at you. “She um,” he begins and you can hear the nerves in his voice. You turn your head to look at him and see his cheeks burning bright crimson. You put a hand on his leg to reassure him.

“She was a good girl for you” he finally lets out and you smile at him, giving his thigh muscle a little squeeze of encouragement.

“Hmm” Dave shrugs, processing the information. “I honestly didn’t think you'd last twelve hours, let alone four days. Color me impressed Sweetheart”

His praise makes your whole body flush with warmth and without giving it another thought you get up onto your knees and crawl down to the end of the bed before him, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck.

“Do we get our rewards now?” You ask sweetly, eyelashes batting up at him and the corner of his lip curls into a dangerous smirk.

“Here’s the thing Sweetheart,” Dave begins, reaching behind him to grab your hands and pull them away from his neck and you frown, already worried about where this is going.

“You, I’m not so worried about. You could come a dozen fucking times and still beg for more but Marky Mark over here” he continues, his head turning slightly to look at Marcus. “Well, we already know from past experience he needs a lesson in common courtesy”

“Oh fuck” you hear Marcus groan as he collapses back onto the pillows and runs his hands through his hair.

Dave is of course referring to the time when Marcus had jerked off in the chair when you had been fooling around with Dave on the bed the first night you met and Dave had admonished him about orgasming before you did.

“Now, while I do admire your stamina Pike,” Dave continues, acknowledging that Marcus had after a while managed to get himself readied for action again. “I’m still a very firm believer in ladies first” he comments, looking back at you with a sly grin.

“And to be honest, I don’t trust you” he shrugs. “You look like a fucking geyser ready to blow”

He's not wrong, you think to yourself but don't say out loud.

“Pun intended” he adds a moment later.

“So,” he trails off as he bends down to pick up a bag off the floor you hadn’t noticed earlier (which in turn just makes you wonder how long exactly had he been standing there watching the two of you. You idly wonder if he had really even been running late or was he just waiting outside wanting the two of you to squirm).

He stands upright again and pulls a small box out of the bag and tosses it to Marcus who scrambles to catch it and your eyes are locked on your husband, as curious as he is to see what’s in his hands.

“Shit” he grumbles, turning the box in his hands and you crawl over to him, kneeling at his side and grab for the box to inspect it.

Oh.

EDGE. Maximum Control Adjustable Stamina Ring

Your fingers trace the words on the unassuming dark blue box and you bite your lip.

Dave bought your husband a goddamn cock ring. Your cunt clenches down around nothing as arousal floods you all over again. You don’t know why, but this is one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to you.

You take a breath, reigning yourself back in as you steady yourself and lock your gaze onto Marcus. Toys for you were one thing, you had already acknowledged that you were fine with it, but you hadn't discussed any of that for Marcus and the last thing you want is for him to be uncomfortable (or rather, more uncomfortable than what he's already agreed to).

“You okay?” you ask, barely above a whisper, meant only for Marcus to hear and thankfully he nods his head and pushes himself up so he’s seated with his back against the headboard.

“Fuck. Yeah, yeah I think so” he says between short breaths and you crawl onto his lap and kiss him. It’s slow and romantic, despite the fact that you’re clutching onto a sex toy that your shared lover just brought over. You pour everything you have into the kiss, letting him know without words how much you love him and how much he means to you. You continue kissing, neither of you noticing how the mattress dips behind you under Dave’s weight until you feel arms wrap around your middle that you know aren’t your husbands because his are smoothing up and down your thighs that are straddling his hips.

You lean back from Marcus and your back hits Dave’s hard chest as you realize he’s kneeled behind you and his hands go to your waist to tug at the hem of your tank.

“Take this off baby” Dave mumbles into your ear and you quickly oblige him, pulling the garment up and over your head and tossing it aside, leaving your top half bare as you’d decided to go braless tonight.

“Good girl” Dave praises, hands back at your waist and Marcus is practically trembling in front of you, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he watches the other mans large hands roaming your body. Dave was right, he does look like a geyser about to blow.

“Put it on him” Dave instructs next and Marcus quickly reaches down to shove his sweats down to his thighs, his cock springing free before your eyes, hard and positively leaking for you. Apparently he had decided he's more than fine with what was happening and you're thankful for that.

You feel Dave’s hand in yours and look down to see that he’s wrapped your slender fingers around a small bottle of lube and you pop the lid open to squeeze a few drops into your hands. Dave takes the box from your other hand and rips it open, passing it back to you and then settling his chin on your shoulder so he has an unimpaired view of what you’re about to do.

“Oh shit” Marcus’ eyes close tight as you wrap your oiled hand around his length and give him a few practiced strokes, lathering him up with the lubricant before taking a few more drops from the bottle and significantly coating the thin black silicone contraption that’s in your other hand.

"Good baby?" You ask one final time, just to be sure and Marcus gives an enthusiastic nod behind closed eyes.

You position the large opening over his erection and bring it down to his base and then pull the drawstring until it's tight, giving the end a little tug to be sure it's secure but not too tight and Marcus twitches in your hand.

“I’m a little jealous Pike” Dave remarks casually from over your shoulder while you continue to lazily stroke Marcus. “You’re probably about to have the best orgasm of your life”

“Oh fuck” Marcus groans, head falling back to smack loudly against the headboard.

“But, gotta take care of our girl here first” he continues and now it's your turn to turn bright red.

Our girl.

It sends a little shockwave down your spine and you shudder.

“How do you want him to make you cum baby?” Dave whispers sinfully into your ear before lathing around the edge of it with his tongue.

“His mouth” you answer far too quickly. You’ve had days to think about how you wanted to finally cum and the answer in your head was always the same; by Marcus’ skilled tongue.

“Thought you’d say that” you feel Dave smirk against your cheek. “You wanna sit on his face?” Dave asks and as much as that definitely tempts you, you shake your head.

“Want you to hold me, play with me” you whimper, taking one of his hands in yours and bringing it up to cup your breast. Having both of their attention on you at once was definitely high up there on your list of fantasies and you wanted to take advantage of it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Yeah you do, such a good fucking girl” Dave growls before he pushes back from you and snaps his fingers at Marcus.

“Up” he commands and Marcus scrambles immediately, making room so Dave can take his position, your hand falling away from his throbbing member in the process.

You and Marcus are both up on your knees in the middle of the bed, half naked while Dave sits fully clothed comfortably seated in with his back against the headboard. You shuffle closer to Marcus and he takes your face in his hand and kisses you, moaning into your mouth as he practically swallows you whole. Your breathing is heavy as you meld into his mouth and let him take control of the kiss, his tongue probing deeper inside and tangling with yours until you're both breathless and you regretfully pull apart.

“Take these off” he whispers, tugging at your shorts and you oblige him, pulling them down along with your underwear and Marcus helps you out of them before you do the same for him and you're both fully bare.

“Lay down honey” Marcus instructs and you nod your head weakly, crawling over to Dave and turning in his lap so you're seated between his bent legs, your back to his chest and hands resting on his knees because you have a feeling you’re about to need something to hold on to. Dave’s hands come down to start kneading at your shoulders and your head falls back to rest against him. Only in your wildest fantasies had you ever thought you’d have two men showering you with attention at the same time and it was absolutely everything. Dave’s masculine scent assaults your senses as you snuggle further into him, eyes closed as you feel Marcus lower himself to lie down between your spread legs and run his hands up your thighs.

“All right Pike, put this little bitch in heat out of her misery” Dave sneers against your ear and a shiver rakes down your body as your hands clutch tighter to his knees.

Marcus, thank God, doesn’t waste another moment and lowers his head between your legs to lick a broad stripe up your center with the flat of his tongue and a loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly came already at the first press of his mouth to your heat.

Dave’s hands drift from the tops of your shoulders down to your breasts, gently kneading them in his large hands and then he takes one pert bud between his thumb and index finger and squeezes, pulling on it just hard enough that it edges that fine line between pleasure and pain and you cry out.

“Oh you like that” Dave chuckles from behind you. And fuck he's right, you absolutely love it.

“Like it a little rough from your Daddy while your sweet boytoy licks between your legs huh?” he’s growling now into your ear and your eyes shut as you nod your head. Marcus is expertly teasing you down below, his tongue swirling your clit before pushing back through your folds and then nuzzling his whole face into you and your hips chase the pressure of the mouth.

“Answer me” Dave barks, landing a harsh swat to your already overly sensitive nipple and your body jerks in response.

“Fuck, yes, I love it Daddy. Oh fuck” you whine, desperately writhing between the two men who are pulling you apart piece by piece.

Dave doesn’t give you any reprieve, just lowers his head to your throat and bites down, causing you to cry out before he soothes over it with his tongue and sucks the flesh into his mouth and it mirrors the way Marcus sucks your tender pearl into his mouth and you instantly fall apart, not able to hold on any longer.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck fuck fuck!” You cry out, shaking in Dave’s arms, clutching desperately to him while you ride out your orgasm and Marcus laps up every drop of your rush of arousal. You look down to where Marcus is between your legs and see that his right hand has disappeared somewhere between his body and the mattress and you don't have to guess where. He's moaning as he continues licking into you like a man possessed who simply can't be stopped and your hand comes down to grip in his hair, forcing his face to stay buried in your cunt while your other arm reaches behind you to secure Dave to your throat.

"Fuck, again. Give her another" Dave demands of Marcus who groans into your throbbing center and nods his head dutifully as he doubles his efforts with his tongue, working your clit even faster before he plunges two fingers inside of you. You hadn't even had a chance to reel back from your last orgasm before Marcus is pushing you towards another. He knows your body too well. Where to press, where to lick, kiss, apply pressure. He plays you like a fine tuned instrument while Dave continues his assault on you from above and it's not long before you're wailing out in pleasure a second time as Dave murmurs over and over in your ear what a 'good girl' you are.

“Oh my god, oh my god” you’re panting heavily, trying desperately to catch your breath and calm your racing heart as you come down from your high. Dave has switched to soft kisses and licks to your neck while Marcus still languidly licks your folds, moaning into you as he tastes your release on his tongue.

“Marcus, come here” you say suddenly, waving your arm out in an attempt to reach for him. Marcus gets up to his knees and shuffles forward and you grab for him and kiss him hard, moaning into his mouth when you taste yourself on him. He pulls back when the lack of oxygen forces him to and to your surprise he grips the bottom of your chin and turns your head to Dave and you take the hint and plunge forward to kiss him as well, letting Dave have a taste of your long awaited release.

“Tastes so much sweeter when it’s earned baby girl” Dave smirks against your lips once he’s pulled back.

“And how’s our boy doing?” He asks next and both you and Dave turn your heads to Marcus who’s sitting back on his heels now with his hand wrapped around the base of his dick, precum leaking steadily from the head that looks red and angry.

“Barely hanging on here” Marcus admits breathlessly, the little toy wrapped around him restricting his blood flow and maximizing his pleasure to unprecedented heights.

“Go on baby, go give him some relief, he’s earned it” Dave tells you before landing a little swat to the side of your hip and you too get up on your knees and lean down onto your elbows, placing your hands on Marcus’ hips as your mouth envelops his throbbing cock. You should probably be a little embarrassed that your ass and cunt are on full display inches from Dave’s face the way you’re bent over Marcus with him behind you, but you’re so worked up that you don’t give it a second thought and pour all of your attention into Marcus.

“Oh shit. Fuck!” Marcus’ eyes close and his head falls back while his hand comes to play with your hair, brushing it away from your face as you bob up and down on his length, messy strings of saliva following the path of your mouth. You make sure to kiss, lick and suck on every inch of him, worshiping his cock and murmuring breathlessly about how much you’ve missed it and you hear the tiniest whimper of 'oh fuck' from him above you. You moan into him when you suddenly feel Dave’s hands gripping at your ass, spreading you open and Marcus’ head shoots forward again to see what he’s missing that’s got you doubling your efforts around his already leaking dick, taking him hard and fast down your throat.

“Oh my god, she likes that” Marcus smiles widely, fighting desperately to keep his eyes open while you swallow down his cock with renewed enthusiasm at whatever Dave is doing behind you.

“Course she does, dirty little slut” Dave huffs, planting little kisses to both of your cheeks while he continues massaging them in his hands and you moan again into Marcus, taking one hand from his hip to wrap it around whatever part of him your mouth can’t reach.

“Oh shit, fuck, keep playing with her ass” Marcus begs, and you’re not sure who sounds more wrecked right now, you or him as you moan wantonly into his groin. You’ve never heard Marcus talk like that either and it turns you on even further.

You jerk forward slightly in surprise when you feel something cold hit the soft flesh of your ass and dribble down between your cheeks and then you have to pull your mouth off of Marcus as a loud groan escapes you when you feel it warming up when Dave’s finger chases the path of the lube that slides down your crack. Your whole body tenses up in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, his one hand smoothing over your left check while his other swirls a finger teasingly around your puckered entrance. “Focus back on Marcus, take that cock back into your mouth baby” Dave instructs softly and you let out a little whine but obey, putting your mouth back on Marcus and your husband reaches down and places his hand on the back of your head, not forcing you closer, just holding you there and letting you know he’s with you, gently massaging the back of your head.

"Oh my god baby" Marcus whines like he's physically pained by how much pleasure he's receiving and you hum around his cock, sending little vibrations through it and a slew of curse words leave his mouth.

“Mmmmnnnffff!” you moan into Marcus as the tip of Dave’s single digit finally passes the threshold and dips just inside of you, gently working in and out and around. He’s barely past his fingernail but even that is more than you’ve ever had back there before and the new sensation has you reeling as a pressure builds up you’ve never felt before. You focus on Dave’s words though and keep your attention on Marcus the best you can, swallowing around his cock and taking him as deep as your throat allows until you feel his hips gently thrusting into your mouth and you moan and nod your head for him to keep doing that.

“Yeah, fuck her throat, little whore fucking loves it” Dave snarls and it spurs Marcus on, his grip on the back of your head a little tighter as he pistons his hips back and forth. It's not near as forceful as when Dave has done it to you, but it's certainly taking all the work away from you. It's a blessing because your concentration on blowing him was completely shot the moment Dave pressed his finger inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You suddenly rip your mouth away from Marcus when you feel a hand between your legs, fingers circling your oversensitive clit and at this point you’re not even sure whose hand it is and you don’t care either. You're on the brink of orgasm once again.

“Honey please, god I’m so close. Fuck, don't stop” you hear Marcus whining above you and suddenly Dave’s finger pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty and he lands a sharp little smack to your ass.

“Nobody likes a cocktease, don’t be a brat” You hear Dave seethe from behind you and feel a hand clamp down on your mound and squeeze and you quickly realize it was Dave’s fingers that were pleasuring you just moments ago that have now stopped entirely. You hadn't meant to stop pleasing Marcus but you only have so much concentration when the familiar waves of an encroaching orgasm sneak up on you like that.

“Keep it up and you don’t get to cum again” he threatens and you know he’s serious. Your mouth is back on Marcus in an instant, sucking and stroking him with renewed enthusiasm and Dave’s hands leave you all together to drop down at his sides so he doesn’t further distract you. It's probably for the best. Certainly in Marcus' best interest anyway.

“Oh my god baby, yes” Marcus encourages you as you bob up and down on him, taking him as deep as you can and holding until you gag before you pull back up to take a breath but continue working him with your hand, paying special attention to his head as you rapidly stroke and squeeze him.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum” Marcus warns and before you even have a chance to wrap your mouth back around him, he does. Hot spurts shooting up to cover his stomach as you continue to jerk him until there’s nothing left and he falls back to sit on his heels again.

“Holy shit” Marcus exclaims, chest heaving. “Fucking hell baby” he breathes before he lunges forward to kiss you harshly. It���s all teeth and tongue and frantic and uncontrolled, not like how Marcus typically kisses you and you’re smiling against his lips, knowing you’ve just absolutely rocked his world.

He releases you and then reaches down to his slick cock, pulling the tie loose so he can pull it over his dick and toss it off to the side of the bed, hands coming down to his thighs as he takes deep steadying breaths.

“That was… Jesus” he trails off, shaking his head, chest heaving with his efforts to breathe.

“I love you baby” you tell him, pushing forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too” he breathes. “Fuck, I think I love you too York, Jesus fucking christ” he jokes, running his hands through his hair and you laugh out loud.

“Who knew Dave was such a talented gift giver” you tease, turning back to look at Dave who’s smirking behind you and simply shrugs his shoulders like he’s got lots of secrets about him you simply haven’t discovered yet.

“I have to go clean up” Marcus announces, looking down at the mess he’s made of himself. “You can um, thank Dave for me honey” he winks at you before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead and then he’s pushing away from you and gets off the bed and wanders off towards the ensuite.

You turn over so you’re facing Dave and push his knees down and he brings his legs together so you can settle down over top of them, sitting on his thighs. You can see the outline of his length underneath the dark material of his pants and you know he’s hard. You shuffle forward just slightly and bring your hands to his shirt and start popping the buttons open one by one until his shirt falls open and you’re able to rake your fingernails down his chest. You turn your head as you hear the shower come to life a few feet away from you and then turn back to Dave and lift your shoulders in a small shrug.

“I am under strict orders from my husband to thank you” you say teasingly, pushing the shirt down his shoulders and surprisingly he lets you. His gaze is locked on yours as he watches your meticulous movements, pulling the shirt completely free from him and then bringing your hands to his belt next and pulling it free.

Once his pants are open he helps you by lifting his hips and pushing them down his legs along with his boxers and you pull them completely free from him until he’s naked beneath you. You haven’t seen him like this since your first time together. Even when he’d fucked you the last time he kept his clothes on. You take a moment to appreciate his body, fingers trailing from his broad shoulders down a hard chest wall to a slightly softer middle and then tapered waist. Marcus was a little more fit, more defined, but Dave was definitely bigger, larger and you held an appreciation for both their body types.

Your gaze comes back up to find his locked onto you and you feel suddenly shy that you were all but just ogling his body. He doesn’t let your nerves linger though, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you forward and kisses you, soft and deep, tongue dancing gently with yours and you hum a content little sigh into his mouth.

“So,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back just slightly. “How would you like your payment?”

Dave gives you a mischievous little grin, his hands smoothing over the soft skin of your lower back as he gestures with a nod of his head towards the end of the bed.

“Why don’t you go see what other gifts Daddy brought in his bag of tricks, hmm?” he tells you and you waste no time scurrying off to the end of the bed to grab for the discarded discreet little black bag from earlier.

You hold open the bag and peak inside and bite your lip when you see what’s waiting for you, reaching inside to grab the soft pink object and pulling it out to inspect it in your hands.

“It’s brand new. I just cleaned it, you know, beforehand” Dave explains. You’d seen the empty packaging sitting in the bottom of the bag too so you knew you didn’t have to worry.

“How efficient of you” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re glad he thought of it too, so you don’t have to sit for god knows how long while you wash it and wait for it to properly dry.

“Told you I’d get you a toy baby. You like it?” Dave asks as your fingers trace the delicate shape of the silicone plug in your hand. It’s about three inches long, the tip is rounded and tapered to be a bit slimmer than its long neck, then there’s a narrow stem followed by a flared base. You look back over to Dave and crawl back over to him, settling in his lap and kissing him soundly. Your nerves are skyrocketing again and you need to just be anchored for a moment. Part of you wishes Marcus was here to do that for you but you can still hear the shower running, as it hasn’t been that long.

Dave thankfully senses your anxiety and he slowly smoothes his hands up and down your arms and your sides as he continues kissing you, seemingly fine with letting you take all the time you need until you’re ready and you have to say, that might be one of the most amazing things about Dave. He definitely has his rough, dominant side but he still manages to make you feel safe at the same time, like you know if you really didn’t like something or want him to stop, he would. And he also seems to just have a sixth sense for your body already. He knows when he can push you and when he needs to pull back and you’re beyond grateful for it. Although you had initially wanted all this and to explore these things, a lot of it was still new territory for you and Dave treated it as such while maintaining this balance of having a hint of softness with you when you needed it, and showing you no mercy when you didn’t.

“You ok?” Dave asks after a couple minutes of kissing and touching, after he’d finally felt your shoulders settle as you sunk further into his lap and his embrace.

“Yeah, I think so” you nod your head.

“It’s just practice baby” Dave assures you, knowing you’re not ready to take him back there yet. Thankfully though you had been somewhat prepared, knowing this might be coming tonight as he had mentioned it last time. You spent a little bit of time online researching and made sure you knew how to properly prepare and clean yourself so you wouldn’t have any embarrassing messes. That had been part of your biggest fear about the whole thing, secondary only to how much it could actually hurt but the more you had read about it calmed some of your nerves. Most articles mentioned that as long as you or your partner took it slow it could be quite pleasurable and though you barely knew him, you did trust that Dave has no interest in hurting you and he seems pretty well versed in every aspect of the bedroom play you’ve tried so far so you’re confident he knows what he’s doing.

“Um, by the way, before we do anything…” You begin, remembering something you had wanted to bring up with Dave but seemed like too intimate a conversation for a group text message. “I just wanted to mention, and, I know the first time was like an accident and if anything my fault, but um…” you trail off again, nervously wringing your hands together and Dave’s hands come down to still them, holding them in his firm grasp and he looks you in the eyes.

“What is it, you can tell me. If I did something that you weren’t okay with…”

“No” you shake your head immediately. “It’s not anything like that, it's just… Well, Marcus and I, we’re not exactly you know trying, but we’re not not trying for a baby. We just kinda figured if it happens it happens and, I just, well I’m not like on any birth control so…” you trail off again, Dave’s single nod letting you know he gets where you’re going. You can’t have him cumming inside you and potentially complicating anything between you and Marcus. You’ve been not not trying for a little over a year now and it hadn’t happened yet and neither of you are sure if it ever will but having Dave in the mix now you just need to be careful. The first time he was inside you he didn’t pull out, though in his defense you nearly forced it out of him the way you were sitting on top of him and your orgasm came hard and fast out of nowhere, you could hardly blame Dave. The second time you’d been with him he had pulled out, despite you not discussing it first and you were grateful for that.

“Of course, I understand” Dave nods his head. “And uh, for whatever peace of mind it’s worth, after my girls I had a vasectomy so… no worries here”

“Oh, good” you sigh with relief. You’ve had a period since your first encounter with Dave so you weren’t worried yet anyway but it’s nice to know you don’t have to worry at all anymore. You also knew that Dave had a clean bill of sexual health too, as him and Marcus had discussed it before your initial meeting so now you knew you were covered on all bases and free to do as you pleased. And you intended to do just that.

“But I mean I wouldn’t, you know, normally, unless you wanted me to” he explains and you feel your cheeks heating again. You’re sitting here naked in Dave’s lap discussing whether or not he’s going to cum inside of you while your husband takes a shower in the next room.

“You just let me know baby” he winks at you, settling your nerves again and pulling you back in for a quick kiss.

“Lie down on your back” he instructs a moment later and you crawl off his lap and lay down on your back in the middle of the bed.

Dave gets up on his knees and makes his way between your spread legs and grabs for the toy in your hand and the discarded bottle of lube on the mattress from earlier. You take a deep breath as Dave also grabs for a pillow and fixes it under your hips to elevate you off the mattress slightly.

Before things have a chance to go any further however, Marcus emerges from the bathroom, a billowing cloud of steam following after him as he wanders back into the bedroom, towel secured low on his hips.

“Hey” he greets a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Dave’s completely naked on his knees between your legs while you lay there spread eagle with your head down at the foot of the bed near close enough to be hanging off of it. It must be a sight for your poor husband.

He looks over at Dave and sees the little pink toy in his hand and though he’s never personally used one either he knows exactly what it is and he swallows the little lump in his throat. You had told Marcus what Dave had said to you last time and told him that you were excited but nervous about it and Marcus had encouraged you to try it if it was something you wanted.

“Just in time for the big show” Dave announces to Marcus, tossing a wink towards your husband who lets out a small laugh, thankful that somebody was able to break the tension in the room. Of course it was Dave.

“I um, I don’t have to stay…” Marcus says, looking at you now and shrugging his shoulders. He’s not sure if you’d be more or less comfortable with him there and you’re not either but at the end of the day Marcus is calming and you know that’s what you need right now.

“Stay” you answer a little too quickly, reaching out at him with grabby hands like a needy toddler and he chuckles but walks over to the end of the bed, grabs each of your hands in one of his and kneels down on the floor behind your head.

“Second best view in the house” Dave winks again at Marcus and now it’s your turn to laugh at how strange this whole situation is. Marcus may calm you but Dave calms the entire room, doesn’t let the awkwardness or tension linger and it’s exactly what both you and Marcus need.

“Ready?” Dave asks and you nod your head quickly.

“Mmm hmm” you say, sounding uneasy even to your own ears. You do want this, but you can’t help that you’re nervous.

“Hey,” Marcus’ soft voice says from above you and you tilt your head back to look up at him and he gives you a warm smile.

“Spiderman kiss” he smirks and you let out a little laugh but tilt your head back a little further and he brings his down until your lips meet in an upside down kiss. You’re both smiling like idiots the entire time your lips meld together.

Neither of you see Dave watching the sweet and intimate interaction, nor do you know the slight pang of jealousy he feels in his chest at how much love the two of you have for each other that he’s never known himself.

Marcus pulls back from the kiss and you bring your head back up to rest on the mattress as your attention goes back to Dave who’s now thoroughly slicking up the small pink toy in his hands before squeezing some extra lubricant onto his fingers and finally between your cheeks. A shudder racks your body when you feel his fingers trace your entrance, spreading the oily slick around everywhere to ensure you’re prepared and then he brings the toy down and notches it at your puckered hole.

“Go slow” you say, taking a steadying breath and Dave nods at you, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh reassuringly.

“I’ve got you” he promises.

You squeeze Marcus’ hands a little tighter and he bends down to kiss your forehead but his gaze is trained on what’s happening at the opposite end of the bed where Dave slowly begins feeding the toy inside you until the tip finally pushes past the tight ring of muscle and your hips lift off the bed slightly.

“Ohhhhh” you moan loudly once it’s nestled just inside you and Dave is grinning at you from between your legs.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me baby” he praises. “Fuck, look at you” he says, a little breathless and it turns you on knowing how much he likes it. The way Marcus grips your hands even tighter lets you know he doesn’t mind it much either.

“Does it feel good baby?” Marcus’ voice is suddenly in your ear and you close your eyes, nodding your head. There’s pressure, but a good kind of pressure and it doesn’t hurt like you feared it might.

“Just a little bit more, you still OK?" Dave asks and you nod again. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings his thumb still slicked with the lubricant down to rub small circles on your clit and a little sob escapes you.

“Yeah, that’s it, fuck” Dave curses, slowly and cautiously prodding the toy a little further while he stimulates the bundle of nerves between your legs and you’re whining and mewling underneath him, silently begging for more. You feel the round base rest against your ass and you let out a loud moan, knowing it’s all the way inside of you now and Dave’s hand that was feeding you the toy comes to rest on your hip and gives it a small squeeze.

“Good fucking girl” he growls as his thumb continues working your clit and you’re writhing on the mattress, rocking your hips into the pressure of his hand.

“Oh my god baby” Marcus groans. His hands leave yours but reach forward so he can grab both your breasts in his hands and knead them in his palms, his mouth going to your throat to kiss and lick every inch he can reach. “You’re so fucking hot” he mumbles between kisses.

Dave’s hand leaves your sex and you’re about to whine in complaint but then he’s grabbing both of your legs and pulling them straight up in the air and letting them rest on his shoulders as he shuffles forward on his knees and suddenly you feel his throbbing length between your folds, pushing through your lips to coat himself in your slick before he’s at your entrance and slowly pushes inside.

“Oh my god” you practically jolt off the bed when Dave enters you, still getting used to how he stretches you and with the toy in your other hole you feel so incredibly full that you already know you’re not going to be lasting very long.

“Oh fuck” Dave groans once he’s buried to the hilt and he takes a moment to pause. “Gripping my fucking cock so tight baby, Jesus you feel so fucking good”

“Fuck. Move, please” you cry out, reaching your hands behind you to grab a hold of Marcus’ head and keep him close, burying your fingers in his hair for something to hold onto.

One of Marcus’ hands leaves your breast and the way his breathing picks up and his sucking on your neck gets sloppy you know he’s jerking his cock and a fresh wave of arousal hits you.

Dave begins rutting into you. His hands are gripped tight around your thighs as he slams his pelvis into yours over and over. He knows you’re close already and need the release and he also knows he won’t be too far behind you, the way you’re clamping down on his dick like an unrelenting vice grip.

"That's it, dirty fucking girl. Letting me fill all your fucking holes hmm? So goddamn full aren't you baby?" He asks before landing a hard slap to the side of your ass.

“Ohhhhh fucckkkkkk” you’re practically sobbing as Dave continues to rail into you, pummeling you into submission with every deep and sharp thrust of his hips. You feel so full everywhere, like you’re about to spontaneously combust if you don’t cum soon. Your legs are trembling as Dave holds them up in the air, toes curled tight and everything feels so good everywhere you feel like you could scream. This is one of the prime examples of Dave pushing you to your absolute limits and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head as you take, take, take. Desperate for everything he has to give you.

“Oh my god, please, please, please” you beg. You’re so close, just waiting to be tipped over that edge. You need that final push.

Marcus turns out to be the one that gives it to you. His other hand leaves your breast and snakes down between your legs and expertly rubs your clit just the way he knows drives you crazy and you cum loud and hard, pushing up on your elbows as your whole body thrums with an unwavering energy that pulses through in little shockwaves for what feels like forever. You can feel the release gushing out of you from your prolonged orgasm.

"Fuck, that's it baby, cum all over this cock. Fuck you're so good" Dave growls as your hips continue chasing down your high until finally, once you've given all you have to give, you’re panting and heaving and collapsing back down onto the bed. Marcus’ hand leaves from between your legs and comes to gently brush the hair from your face as he peppers little kisses all over your cheek, murmuring his love for you and how beautiful you are.

It’s a stark contrast to how Dave continues pounding into you with reckless abandon. His thrusts are starting to get sloppy, his grip around your thighs bordering painful and his eyes are slammed shut and teeth gritted as he nears his own completion.

“Fuck baby, where?” He asks, sounding about as wrecked as you feel and you reach up and grab his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“Inside, fuck, cum inside me” you cry out and moments later he does, filling you with rope after rope of his warm spend until his hips finally begin to slow and he eventually pulls out of you, lowering your legs down and sitting back on his heels in exhaustion.

Another strangled moan escapes, this one from behind you as Marcus’ forehead comes down to rest on top of yours and your whole head is reeling, all three of you orgasming within moments of each other is probably the single hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Holy shit” you breathe, heart hammering in your chest. All three of you are panting and breathing heavily as you come down from your peaks. Hands are everywhere, stroking and squeezing and reassuring and at this point your brain can’t even discern who’s who and you don’t actually care. Your smile reaches ear to ear and you just lie there a moment longer with your eyes closed, taking it all in.

Finally after everyone’s had a chance to catch their breath you feel Dave gently pulling the toy out from you and you actually groan at the loss. Dave leans over you, planting little kisses all over your abdomen and telling you what a good girl you were over and over and it warms your entire body.

“Baby…” you begin a moment later, tipping your head back again to look at Marcus who once again surprised you with his stamina, orgasming a second time tonight. “Again?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he blushes furiously and nods his head.

“Told you you were fucking hot” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. “And um, to be honest,” he’s speaking lowly now in your ear, just for you. “My hard on never fucking went away. Even in the shower. I don’t know what that thing is that Dave brought for me but… we’re keeping it” he proclaims and you laugh.

You tilt your head back up and raise slightly on your elbows so you can look at Dave. He’s still sitting back on his heels, hand absentmindedly running up and down your leg as he takes a moment to collect himself and enough energy to get up off the bed.

“I think we’ll keep Dave too” you mention, giving Dave a playful smile and he grins, giving your ankle a little squeeze as he winks at you.

Next Chapter

Taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace

#pedro pascal characters #dave york #marcus pike #dave york fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike smut #dave york x you #dave york x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x dave york x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

[floredaqueen]

True Story

18+

.

.

.

This is a true story ..

The knock at the door was jarring, especially with what happened last night. Mercedes was still cleaning up after everyone that morning while trying to contain her reckless feelings that were unleashed that night as well. She put down the sculpted glasses that were used for the banquet, her rich, melanin hands running through her perfectly quafted silk press put her hair through to distract herself.

The walk to the door was draining, every step she was contemplating if she should just let someone else get it.. but when that thought paused, she was already right in front of the crimson double doors. She opened one of them, her eyes fluttering up to see the beautiful blonde she wished she could erase form.

About all the lies I've fantasized..

"Hey, uh–" Immediately , she interrupted his lightly spoken words, all the way her eyes struggled to stay on his. And so she diverted to hay that he sported backwards on his ashe blonde locks that seemed to have no clue was gravity was unless they were contained by the cap.

"What is it, JJ?" She didn't really give a fuck about what he wanted. Mercedes couldn't stand to even look at him, let alone actually want to give want he wants.. and yet she stood there, obviously worn out and disheveled as she heard him out.

"I just.. wanted to know if you needed help cleaning up," He proudly, boyishly held up a bucket, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and an industrial scrub brush.. The funny thing was the bucket contained a whole bunch of cleaning supplies that Mercedes could tell he just bought. As if she didn't have enough already.

"I have maids to help me do that, thanks." Her voice got softer as she thought about the kind gesture even as her mind pictured the worst of the night before.

'Bout you and I..

"Yeah, but I know you like doing it.." JJ's eyes smiled along with pretty curve of his lips, the mouth she envisioned all over someone else. Erstwhile, she searched for wine she hid and those stupid love letters she wrote to him but was too chicken to give him. The very fact that it warmed her heart frustrated her.

"Since when do you presume to know anything about me?" She'd scoff, her voice still weakly soft. If she raised it at all, she knew it would break. Instantly, the Pouge was taken aback.

This is a true story

"Woah, okay. I'm trying to be nice here," he spat out, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she took a small step back from him, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Mortification flooded through him as he realized how harsh his previous words must have sounded.

It wasn't intentional, he never meant to ridicule her or smash her heart to pieces. But he had a habit of speaking without thinking, rationalizing his own feelings without regard for how it affected others. In his mind, he was just being honest - but the words had come out all wrong.

He tended to disconnect from emotions, both his own and others. It was easier that way, or so he told himself. But now, looking at her as she tried to hold back tears, he saw the damage he had caused. If only he had taken a moment to pause, to consider her perspective before blurting out a response fueled by his own discomfort.

About all the games

But it was too late now. The words hung heavily between them, cutting deep. All he could do was apologize sincerely and hope, hope that she knew he never intended to hurt her so callously. But the damage was done, and he knew it would take time to heal those painful bruises to her heart. Time and care that he hoped, next time, he could give before it was too late.

"Well, I don't expect you to. You can leave," *She was quick to try and close the door on him, JJ being more than quick enough to catch it before it did. Mercedes flinched a bit, JJ noticing too late. He was still stuck on the complete rejection she just gave him.

I know you've played.

"What the hell's your problem?" Did he really just say that? 'What's HER problem?' His seeming oblivion pushed her right to the edge. Her cheeks blew themselves out, Mercedes just trying to keep her eyes from going glassy.

"My problem is you, JJ! I hate you!!" The silence between them was damning, the girl feeling the shake of her hands. She didn't mean that, not in the way she said it. JJ on the other hand felt his hard gaze soften, finally understanding where her despair accumulated. His own thoughts reverted back to the night before, the ashe blonde rather having his tongue down some other girl's throat than to have to be alone with the girl he had real romantic feelings for.

Boy, this is not what I need. (Give me your love, give me your love)

Mercedes found them together, her heart dropping to meet the dead butterflies in her stomach. Her head was pound as she dropped wine she copped from her kitchen. She couldn't breath. She couldn't think. The Kook princess just felt hard.

"Oh, god.." "Oh my God.." "Oh my God.."

The last thing she remembered doing was sobbing in her locked room until she passed out.

Not what I want. (Give me your love, give me your love)

"'Cedes.." He started, not getting very far with the way tears quickly swelled up in Mercedes' eyes before they boiled over like a steaming hot pot of water.

"I HATE the way you make me feel.." That was true, even through her resurrected sorrows just by looking at his sweet face. Her heart contorts, her face gets hot, the he makes her smile, the way he smiled, his laugh and the butterflies start swarming..

"'Mercedes"

"Then I find you mid-fuck with Adrisa in the goddamn game room-" Voice already broken, Mercedes choked on her words. It.. might seem stupid.. they weren't even together. They were just friends, but the way she wished it was her lips he was locking with her own while his hands struggled to pull off her dress.. out of passion, our of desire and built up want. It was the only thing she was holding onto after saw JJ.

It's NOT gonna happen to me. (Give me YOUR love, love love)

"You don't get to make it all better after you made the shit worse!" JJ froze as her words cut through him. Even then, JJ selfishly acted, the beautiful blonde boy dropping the supplies in his hand before those same hands pulled the sorrowful girl in. Mercedes trembled, the trauma still raw within her even as heir lips met with a hungry passion, yet also a healing tenderness. JJ cradled her gently yet firmly, pouring his care and regret into the kiss. Mercedes clung to him, taking what comfort she could in his strong embrace.

For a moment, all else faded - only this connection between them remained. An anchor in the storm of her grief. She came to her senses then, her face contorting as her tears continued to uncontrollably stream down her cheeks. A second after, she shoved him away, running him out of her home with one thought.

"Get OUT!!" Slammed the door behind her before sliding down it and shielding her shiny dark crown.

.

.

.

I wrote this as a way to immediately heal from the situation I just went through. Is it like anything real? Just wishful, dramatic thinking. Thanks for putting up with it. I know it's not good, it's jumbled emotions I'm trying to piece together with characters I'm currently obsessed with. Okay bye.

#artists on tumblr #original art #obx #ocs #jj obx imagine #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx jj maybank #jj outer banks #outer banks jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #mEGA angst #im so in my fucking feelings #please bare with me #heartbroken #heartbreak #heartache #im feeling heartbroken #drama #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank x fem!oc.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Prides Gift

- Prompt: MC accidentally summons one of the brothers with the strength of their sin. - I read something similar to this a while back from another creator, but I can't remember who it was. All I can remember is that it was about a teen MC who accidentally summoned them. The idea was very entertaining, and I wanted to give my own twist to it. - I'm only going to do one brother for now, and if it does well, I will do the others. If not, I'll let it die lol So let me know how it is. Any critique is appreciated. - MC is in their mid to late teens - I'm sick atm and my meds have made me kind of out of it so I apologize if this didn't turn out all that great or make any sort of sense lmao I'll probably read back through this when I come down from my medicinal cocktail and just think "wtf" - Not proofread - Song recommendation: Product Of My Own Design by Artio

- Edit: I did come back and read through this, and I did say "wtf" but like in a good way.

This work contains topics that some may find unpleasant. If you are sensitive to any of these, please, KEEP SCROLLING

Warnings: Small amount of physical/mental Abuse

Lucifer

The avatar of pride hated being summoned. It was a complete inconvenience. He had far too much work to do and had no time nor desire to deal with some petty humans wants or needs. Rarely ever did a human have something of value to exchange for his influence and even more rare were they even worthy enough to be in his presence.

He had become quite skilled at resisting. Only ever giving in when he truly needed to. But this time it felt odd. Different somehow, in a way he couldn't fully comprehend.

He tried to ignore it, to keep going about his work, hoping it would pass, but it persisted.

With a growl of irritation, he slammed his pen down and shoved his chair back as he stood before teleporting to its originator.

He made sure to keep himself out of sight, hiding away in the shadows, just out of a human's perception.

What he found perplexed him. Before him were two humans staring each other down. The feeling was coming from the younger one. His eyes traveled to the other.

One of their parents he presumed. They shared features with one another. In the background he saw other children.

In their hands was a piece of sheet music.

"It's not good enough!" their parent yelled. "You are a disgrace! What good is it that you're a prodigy if all you can produce is this garbage?!"

A slap echoed through the room.

The parent continued with their cruel words. Going on and on about how worthless their child was.

The young human did not cry or yell, only turned their head back to them with a fury in their eyes. Their spine rigid, chin held high, and fists balled at their sides.

It was obviously not the first time they had endured this treatment.

He felt their pride waver and anger swell within them. The smell of frankincense and amaryllis came off of them in waves and invaded his senses. The flavor of their sin was unique to say the least and it was clear to see that summoning him had not been their intention. He had half a mind to leave but he remained out of morbid curiosity.

He tapped into their thoughts.

"You're wrong. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! How dare you?! How dare you?! How dare you?! I will be better than you! I am better than you! All you want is to take credit for my accomplishments! My hard work! How dare you act as if I am inferior?! Don't crack. Don't give in. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing me broken. They must never see me weak."

It was a sentiment he was all too familiar with.

The older human sent them to their room and he followed. He let himself indulge in their sin. Let it feed him.

When their door shut and locked behind them, the humans hands flew to their hair and pulled, a growl rising in their throat. They paced around the room for a while before finally leaning onto their desk, taking deep breaths.

"Just breathe it out," they muttered to themself. "A break down won't help."

They continued this until their emotions settled within them, or rather were locked away again.

The avatar of pride stepped out of the shadows. His wings and horns on full display, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"You shouldn't hold back, human." He said.

The human jumped and whipped around to come face to chest with him before looking up to his piercing red eyes. The slight fear at the sight of him fed his ego.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" they asked.

His chest puffed up, "Lucifer Morningstar. You summoned me. Who are you?" He demanded.

He saw recognition flash through their eyes at his name only for confusion to overtake them once more before they settled with acceptance, "MC... May I address you as Mr. Morningstar? Or something along those lines? I feel like using your first name is too familiar and a bit disrespectful."

Lucifer was surprised by their manners but didn't let it show as he gave them a slight nod of approval. Another surprise was that the fear had disappeared from them and was replaced by curiosity as they appraised him.

"You are being very polite for a human in the presence of demon," he commented.

MC scoffed in exasperation, "It is in my best interest not to earn your ire. Besides, you haven't done anything to me personally to justify rudeness."

"You aren't going to call upon god to save your soul? I can feel his influence here. Pieces of it are scattered throughout your home." The low timber of his voice vibrated through the room with an air of ridicule.

"My parents beliefs are not mine. I do not care for their god. And what good would there be in calling upon him now? He has done nothing for me and I owe him nothing. I do not need nor want his intervention."

MC walked to their bed and sat down before gesturing to their desk chair, "Have a seat if you want to, Mr. Morningstar."

His respect for the human grew just a little bit so he accepted.

"You mentioned before that I summoned you," MC began again. "How? I don't remember doing anything of the sort."

He sighed, "Simply put, my sin in you was strong enough to pull me here."

"Oh, so what now?"

He thought on it for a moment. He felt an unusual connection with the human, though he would not know why for a while yet. He couldn't help but notice the open minded air about them and their maturity and intelligence. They had the potential to be successful. A willingness to learn and persevere, to push forward and work harder were qualities he admired.

They had one immediate obstacle and that was domineering and controlling parental figures.

An obstacle he knew intimately.

"Normally, this is when you humans start stating what you desire from me, but if you are amenable, I am willing to offer you a deal."

MC watched him cautiously, "What would this deal cost me? My soul?"

"I am not some lesser demon who requires souls to gain power," He replied with a snappish tone. "I do not require yours."

"I meant no offense, Mr. Morningstar. I simply have no knowledge of demons or how deals with demons work outside the churches influence. To be honest I didn't truly believe any of it existed. What exactly are you offering and how would it work? I do not want to blindly incur debts."

He was not going to make a pact with them. They were far too young to offer immediate results or benefit him in any way, but his instincts told him that assisting this human would be in his best interest.

"It is an exchange. By giving me that which you are most proud of, I will offer you a small piece of myself that is of equal value. The power from that will make you succeed in your endeavors, but it will still require work. You must earn it."

"Aside from aiding my success, how else would this affect me personally?"

He smirked. They were perceptive as well. Good. "It will increase your pride in yourself and your work. Effectively raising your confidence and make you work even harder."

It was similar to the effects of his pact, but not nearly as potent.

"And of course, you lose any chance of going to heaven. You would be making a deal with a demon, after all." He added.

"What do you gain from this?"

"Some of the pride that you accumulate through your accomplishments will be syphoned to me."

It was an extremely simple exchange. It didn't required MC to do anything but pursue their strengths and he wouldn't have to come to human realm as often as before to meet his sins needs. It was a win-win.

The human appeared lost in thought as if having an internal debate. Then something sparked in their eyes and they stood. He watched them walk to a bookshelf in the corner of the room and pull out a binder before coming to stand in front of him.

"This is a collection of the most complex musical compositions I have written. Each of them have earned me first place in competitions all over the country. I have them all committed to memory so I have no need of a physical copy. Is this sufficient?" They asked while keeping eye contact with him.

He could see and feel the unwavering certainty in their eyes.

Without a word, Lucifer reached down and plucked a single feather from one of his wings. It settled in the center of his palm and he cast a transfiguration spell on it making it change into a pendant in the shape of his sigil.

While simple in design it was still quite large. His pride demanding that it be seen.

They exchanged items carefully.

"You must not lose that, ever," Lucifer stared them down as he stood to leave. "If you do, I will know. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, I'm leaving. I have been here far too long and I have a lot of work to finish, and no doubt more on the way from the damage my brothers have caused in my absence."

MC looked down at the pendant in their hands and back up, "Farewell, Mr. Morningstar, and thank you."

He said nothing and disappeared back into the shadows.

But before he returned to the Devildom, he had one last thing to take care of to ensure this transaction bore fruit.

He made his way through the house until he found MCs parent.

Lucifer let his presence slip into their senses. Exuding an intoxicating aura of power and arrogance and terror that preyed on the darkest recesses of human vanity.

Then he manifested before them, his true form imposing, standing tall and lean. His entire being seemed to ripple with suppressed energy, ready to unleash his dominion on any who dared to challenge him. As he stalked his way to them, he radiated an ethereal essence, swirling hues of crimson, gold, and violet dancing and intertwining like a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of color.

But it was his eyes that captured the attention of the human before him. They burned with an intense, otherworldly fire, shining like twin suns and within their depths was a potent mix of confidence, ambition, and superiority that captivated any who dared to meet his gaze. Those who did found their own doubts and insecurities exposed, their sense of self shaken to its very core.

Even the air seemed to bend and quiver in his presence. The atmosphere crackled with palpable energy, an invisible forcefield pulsating around him and with his every step, a symphony of whispers and murmurs that danced on the very edges of the psyche followed. A chorus of both awe and trepidation that only continued to grow louder.

In seconds the human found themselves trapped as he closed in on them and the air turned suffocating. They were frozen in place, limbs trembling.

"MC and I have come to an agreement," His demonic voice slithered through the air, a chilling tone that resonated with primal malevolence. Its timbre was a haunting blend of gravelly growls and seductive hisses, capable of both commanding obedience and instilling paralyzing fear. As it echoed, the words seemed to claw their way into the human's mind, leaving a lingering sense of unease and bore the unmistakable mark of the infernal, a haunting reminder of the abyss from which it emerged.

"So if you so much as lay another finger on them or harm them in any way, I will not hesitate to come back here and tear you limb from limb, understood?"

The human nodded weakly, unable to speak.

Then he was gone.

A decade had passed since then and Lucifer had nearly forgotten about it, barely even remembering their name. Being swamped in a literal mountains of work on the daily will do that to people.

This day was an important one. He was in a rush to get things in order for the arrival of the new exchange student. Doing double checks on everything. He had already had to deal with his brothers antics: Mammon disappearing, Satan trying to sabotage him with yet another prank, having to drag levi from his room, Beel having cleared the fridge again, Asmo constant inappropriate questions about the exchange student, worrying of belphie in the attic, and the list goes on. He couldn't handle another setback, otherwise he was liable to explode.

There was one document he just couldn't find and it was driving him mad. He ripped open the draws in his desk and started pilfering through his files only for eyes to fall to a binder buried underneath.

Suddenly his DDD went off and his eyes shot to its screen to see that is was a message from Diavolo stating he had the document in question and to meet him in the student council room.

Before long he and his brothers were watching as the exchange student was summoned.

They were disoriented at first and glanced around in confusion until their eyes locked with his, and a soft smile graced their face.

His own fell to the pendant around their neck.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Morningstar."

Part 2

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mini fic

[eekshade]

Muse

Steve Rogers x m!reader

Word Count: 1605

Warnings/Info: pre-serum Steve, art school Steve, no pronouns used so could be read as a gn!reader, flustered Steve <3, reader goes through Steve’s sketchbook w/out permission but Steve’s okay with it (just embarrassed), was slightly inspired by that one scene in atsv

Steve was currently anxiously pacing around your apartment, looping through the kitchen to wrap around the couches in a large figure eight path. He was in a deranged panic as he ranted about his upcoming finals, not only were finals a stressful time in general but Steve was also in, according to him, the worst art block he’s ever been cursed with.

“Steve.” You try to gently call out to him for the second time, he (again) doesn’t seem to hear you because he continues to make his way to the kitchen in order to restart his pathway.

“Steven, just-,” you grab his shoulders as he walks by where you were standing; forcing him to look at you, “stop for a second.” It came out a bit harsher than you meant but at the very least he was finally still.

“What?” He says, his voice a fine mix between annoyance and embarrassment, as he attempts to shrug off your hands, a blush dancing across his cheeks. You pull your hands back and mutter an apology.

“Instead of storming around, how about we sit down and take this step by step.” You offer and he quickly walks to the main couch while nodding softly, mostly to himself.

You sit down next to him, placing a hand on his knee, ”How much time do you have before it's due?” You ask in a tone one would take when talking to a crying child, soft and quiet; almost a whisper.

“Around three weeks.” He sighs, scooting closer to you (silently praying you won’t notice).

“Alright…” You break eye contact in favor of looking around the surfaces of the furniture, “That’s enough time, I believe.” You stand having found what you were looking for.

“Here’s the plan, let's try and get you some motivation before anything.” You grab his sketchbook off of the small dining table that sat across the room.

“What do you mean?” He asks cautiously, watching the way your hands grip the book when you walk back over to him.

“I think you should start with something you find easy, to lull yourself back into it.” You sit beside him once again, closer than before, “What do you find easy to draw?”

“I don’t really know…” He laughs sadly, “Everything sounds too hard right now.”

“That’s fine, we could just flip through and see what you draw the most.” You smile at him, causing his heart to melt; distracting him from what you had just said.

“Wait, god no, birds!” He yelped the second he processed what you had just said, “I could draw birds.” He tried to reason, but it was a moment too late.

You opened the book to a random page only to be met with a portrait of you cooking a stew for him while in his kitchen, presumably from when he was sick. He nervously watched your face, the fear of you hurting him (emotionally and/or physically) left as fast as it came, once he saw the small smile that was etched on your face as you gently traced your fingers along his pencil strokes.

You turned to look at him, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but any plan on saying something was abruptly taken from you at the sight of him, his face was mere inches from yours, biting his lower lip rather harshly, blush burned onto his cheeks, already staring at you. You try not to linger on the butterflies going on a mini rampage in your stomach, you quickly turn back to the sketchbook and flip the page. The next page only makes you smile more, it shows you again on both pages, this time you seem to be from his memory.

The page is flipped again to show you and Bucky laughing while playing cards with his sisters, you flip the page once more to reveal you reading with a dog laying on your legs. Laughing under your breath; the realization finally hitting you. You go to try and flip the page one more time, you wore a knowing smirk, that only grew when Steve snatched the book from your lap. You look at him but he won’t look back at you, his eyes glued to the sketchbook that sat on his lap, you laugh at his bashful demeanor.

“I’m sorry, this is weird - you just - sorry.” He fumbles over his words, after a small moment of consideration he leans forward and shoves the book into his bag, which sat on top of the coffee table.

“Wait Steve, it's okay.” You softly take his hands into your own, gently dragging him back down to where he was before.

He looks at you sadly, “God, I really am sorry.” You look at him with pure admiration and slight pity for making him so panicked.

“Please don’t look at me like that.” He whines, he breathlessly looks down at your lips for a second so brief you almost missed it.

“Like what?” You ask, eyes drilling into his.

“Like it's okay.” He whispers.

“It is.” You smile at him, “You're an artist, I can’t get mad at you for making art.” Your voice gets louder (although you're still not talking at full volume) and you lean back an inch or two at most and let go of his hands; trying to make sure you aren’t misreading the situation.

You laugh and run a hand through your hair, trying to make him comfortable again, “So, what, do you want me to pose?” You laugh at your own joke, which causes him to laugh along with you.

“Alright so, what’s it really about though?” You ask calmly while fidgeting with your hands not knowing where to put them.

He quickly stops laughing and gets flustered - not nearly as much as before, “Oh well y'know, it's kind of hard to explain without sounding like a creep.” He averts his eyes from you.

“I give you my permission to sound like a creep.” You smirk at his eye roll.

“That means so much, thank you.” He replied sarcastically, finally meeting your eyes.

“Anytime, Rogers.” You say with a wink, you notice he blushes a bit at that. “Well, go ahead.”

“You really wanna know?” He appears to have gotten more comfortable with the conversation.

“Yes! Of course I do.” You exclaimed exasperated.

“Okay - well, I think you have a good…like body.” He sounds unsure, he pauses for a few seconds to think, you open your mouth to make a joke but he cuts you off, “No, wait! Just please let me finish before you say anything, okay?” You nod.

He takes a deep breath, “You’re like my muse, I don’t think I’m using that right.” He laughs, “I mean, before I do an actual piece I need to warm up, and in order to do that, I typically draw you and sometimes Bucky.” He seems to throw that last part in half-heartedly.

“I think it's because I’m around you so much, it's just easy to properly capture you, you and Bucky.” He added.

You stare at him quietly with a smug smile.

“I’m done. Please say something.” He whines out nervously.

You lean forward, your foreheads now touching, “And Bucky?”

“Yeah, of course, you just ended up on a bad few pages is all.” He defends himself very quietly, you smile at the attempt.

His eyes keep flickering between your eyes, lips, and hands, not bothering to hide it anymore. “Steve,” you say, making his eyes stop moving for a moment to keep them on yours. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?” He whispers so quietly you almost miss it.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask breathlessly.

“Yes, god, please.” He quietly whimpered.

You grab his jaw and finally push your lips against his, you bring one of your hands to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging, this pulls out a soft moan from him, your teeth clashing together. It’s a bit of a mess but neither of you care. He whines as you pull away from him to catch your breath, you look at him as he sits beside you; lips red and wet, soft pants coming out from behind them, eyes glossed over, cheeks dusted pink. He looks back at you, with an almost sad look on his beautiful face.

“Are you okay?” You rest your forehead on his once again.

“No.” He admits, “I don’t think I am.”

“Why?” You look down and take his hands into yours, playing with his fingers slightly, before locking them together.

“Because I don’t know what this means.” He sighs and his eyes are glued onto your interlocked fingers.

“It can mean whatever you want.” You look into his eyes, “I’ll be right here with you.”

He smiles warmly at you while keeping those sad puppy dog eyes, he leans in and pecks your lips. It was short but long enough to feel his emotions vividly through it. He lets go of your hands and leans back, for a second you fear he didn’t mean it, but he then grabs his bag off the table and pulls the sketchbook and a pencil back out of it, then flipping to a new page.

He turns to you, “Is your pose offer still open?” He looks at you brightly.

“Of course it is.” You laugh and strike the most dramatic pose you could pull off.

“I love it.” He laughs warmly, he hesitates briefly before grabbing your limbs and face, posing you how he pleases. “You're perfect.” He mutters as he starts his rough draft.

| MARVEL MASTERLIST |

#steve rogers x m reader #male reader #steve rogers x male reader #40s steve rogers x male reader #captain america x male reader #mlm fanfic #marvel x male reader #pre serum steve #pre serum steve x male reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

While making his final nightly rounds of the castle, Coran sees the training room lights on, and seconds later he hears a frustrated yell ring through the hallway. He sighs, knowing he’s in for an argument with their newly appointed black paladin, and it’s far too late to ask Lance to do it. (He has a much easier time convincing Keith to take a break. Coran is at a complete loss as to how he does it — one moment they’re arguing, at each other’s throats, and Coran is convinced that not only is Keith going to double down and refuse a break but that they’ve destroyed their relationship in the process. The next second Keith is agreeing to a meal and a full night’s rest. It’s absolutely flabbergasting, how Lance does it.)

Reminding himself to be firm, he pushes open the training room doors, mouth already open to remind the boy that rest is of equal if not more importance than training.

But the words die on his tongue, because Number Four is not the one training so late at night, for once.

Lance lets out another frustrated yell, angrier than the one Coran heard before, and runs at the gladiator. He swings his sword — his sword? — at its torso, but the manoeuvre is sloppy, anger making his movements choppy and predictable. The gladiator dodges easily, and with one more furious growl Lance throws his sword at the training room’s emergency power kill switch, making the gladiator dematerialize mid-swing and plunging the room into darkness.

For a moment there’s only silence, except for the red paladin’s heavy panting, and then he sighs, and there’s the unmistakable sound of his sword clattering to the ground and him flopping down after it. The emergency lights flicker on, confirming Coran’s thoughts. Lance lays sprawled on the ground, hand pressed harshly to his eyes.

“I want to go home,” he mutters defeatedly, clearly not intending anyone to hear.

Coran waits a moment, processing all he has just witnessed. Then he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and clears his throat. Lance screeches at the top of his lungs, scrambling to his feet and looking around frantically.

“It’s just me, lad,” Coran rushes to assure.

“Jesus fucking — you scared me, Coran!” He presses a hand to his presumably galloping heart, panting. “Fucksake!”

Coran can’t quite bite back his smile. “Deepest apologies.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Lance says, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t look upset. “What’s up?”

Coran hums, rocking back slightly on his heels. He gestures to Lance’s forgotten sword, which has returned to its bayard form. “I could ask you the same.”

Lance’s expression turns bitter again, and he glares at his bayard. “Oh, that.” He kicks at it slightly. “Nothing to worry about. I promise I’ll get the hang of this stupid thing soon.”

In the decaphoebe or so they’ve been in space together, Coran has spent a lot of time with Lance. He quite likes the boy’s company, and enjoys exchanging stories of home with him. He’s seen Lance excited, bubbly, seen him determined, even seen him insecure. He’s seen almost every mix of emotions he’s ever seen on a person when Keith is brought up in conversation — which is frequently.

But he’s not sure he’s ever seen Lance look so bitter and defeated, before. It’s an unsettling expression to see on his usually cheerful face.

“I was unaware you’d unlocked a third bayard form,” he starts carefully.

Lance scoffs. “Yeah. Because every stupid thing has to change, now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything, Coran,” Lance repeats, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration. “First we lose Shiro, which is probably the worst thing that could ever happen. I mean, Shiro, who is probably the most important person on this team and who has already been through enough. And then Blue decides she doesn’t like me anymore, and I have to go to Red, who would rather Keith than me any day of the week, and then I get to look even more like Keith’s replacement when I get this stupid sword!” He scoops up his bayard, and, as he glares at it, it glows in his hand, stretching into a heavy broadsword. He drops it again in disgust and it clatters to the floor, glowing again as it changes back. “I dunno if I can even get a gun anymore, because clearly Lance McClain has nothing to offer. Point fucking taken.”

Coran blinks, more than a little shocked at the onslaught of real pain in Lance’s voice.

No wonder he’s been so withdrawn lately.

At Coran’s silence, Lance begins to shift uncomfortably, guilt beginning to cloud his brown eyes.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. I can handle it. I swear. It’s just been something of a rough night, is all.”

“Oh, Lance,” Coran says, rushing forward to pull the boy into his arms. Lance resists for a moment, tense, but then he sags forward, letting Coran hold his weight.

“This sucks, Coran. I’m not good enough anymore.”

Coran holds him tighter, rapidly trying to formulate a way to fix this. It turns out that it is insecurity, as much as it’s bitterness — Coran has noticed that it always takes Lance time to fully adjust to big changes, but at the same time he gets frustrated with himself when he can’t handle the new status quo with ease. He hates it when he feels like he’s falling short.

Coran might have an idea.

He squeezes Lance once more, then pulls back slightly, still resting a hand on his shoulder. “You are more than good enough,” he says firmly. He shushes Lance’s immediate protests, continuing on. “You are adjusting, dear. We all are. You’re allowed to struggle for a moment.”

“We can’t afford time for me to struggle,” Lance argues.

Coran raises an eyebrow. “We are fighting an empire that has dominated for longer than your planet has had civilization. We don’t have time to eat or sleep. And yet, we must make time.”

Lance hesitates, then scowls. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Coran laughs, patting him on the back as he guides him to the door. “Then you’re going to hate my suggestion to have some rest.”

“You’re right. I do. Also, no.”

Lance tries to resist, but Coran easily yanks him along. “How unfortunate.”

Lance continues to resist, so Coran decides to let him in on his plan — at least a little.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he starts, and Lance immediately looks intrigued. “You go to bed now, and tomorrow evening after regular training and supper, you meet me here. I’ll help you learn how to use that sword to your strengths.”

Lance perks up. “Really? You know how to use this thing?”

Coran smiles. “I have a few ideas.”

———

part two

#i have this outlined so if all goes well then part 2 tomorrow!!! #vld #voltron #coran #coran coran the gorgeous man #lance #lance mcclain #langst #insecure lance #red paladin lance #brown-eyed lance #lance & coran #coran & lance #dad coran #space dad coran #hurt/comfort #s3 #pining lance #pre klance #my writing #fic #longpost

[silverynight]

Second chances

It's been a couple of weeks since Izuku ran into his childhood friend Bakugo Katsuki; he's a pro hero now and judging by the fact that he's the number one at the moment, it seems he's excellent at his job.

However, that's not the thing Izuku found more interesting about him; back when they both were kids, after they realized Izuku was never going to manifest any sort of quirk, Katsuki started acting strangely around Izuku. He didn't want Izuku to hang out with any other kid but him and when the little green bean said he wanted to make more friends, Katsuki got really angry and stopped talking to him at all.

Izuku felt bad about it and tried to patch things up, but Katsuki refused to listen to him; he became aggressive towards other kids and since they were afraid of him, no one approached Izuku again.

But now... after a little bit more than twenty years, they have chosen to start over again, they're friends now. It was Katsuki's idea, he ran into Izuku again the first time he walked into the coffee shop he's currently working at.

Before he could tell him anything, Katsuki apologized... It was a quiet morning, but there were still a couple of people around and the pro hero didn't care if they were watching the whole thing, he needed to apologize.

Izuku had decided to move on and forgive him a long time ago, but he told Katsuki he forgave him anyway because it seems he needed to heart it.

And now pro hero Dynamight goes to that small coffee shop every single day to see his friend.

Because they're friends now and Izuku is really happy about it.

"Nerd, get ready... We're watching All Might movies tonight, I'll make dinner!"

Usually, Izuku would get really excited about something like that, but right now he's a little bit distracted by all the scratches he can see on Katsuki's face and arms.

"Long day at work, I presume..." Izuku comments, trying to sound casual, not wanting to look too worried because there are customers around. The place has become quite popular lately, but he suspects it's because most of them want to see the pro hero in person.

"It's really nothing... Stop pouting, nerd!" Katsuki says, almost rolling his eyes at his friend.

"Why didn't you go to the paramedics, Kacchan?"

"Tch!" He huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "It'd be a waste of time!"

"Nothing related to health and safety is a waste of time," Izuku argues, narrowing his eyes. "Please go back so they can patch you up... I'll have to close the shop today anyway..."

"It's really nothing, Izuku."

"Kacchan–"

"I wanted to see you!" The pro hero blurts out, blushing. He seems really flustered. "I didn't want to waste any more time doing that; I was desperate to see you, besides, this is nothing to worry about..."

Izuku feels his cheeks turning red, but he refuses to look away from Katsuki.

"Sit there, I'll bring you coffee and you'll let me patch you up."

"Izuku, I'm–"

"Kacchan," the green haired barista scolds him, putting both hands over his own hips. He looks adorable, even though he's trying his best to be intimidating.

"Fine!"

***

They usually watch movies at Katsuki's place; not only his apartment is better than Izuku's, it's in a nice part of the city. The pro hero doesn't like Izuku's place at all, mostly because he says the neighborhood he lives in is dangerous.

"You should move in with me," he blurts out as he sits on the couch next to Izuku with two bowls of noddles in his hands; he hands one of them to his friend.

"I can take care of myself, Kacchan," Izuku assures him and he realizes right before chuckling that his friend is the one pouting now.

"Move in with me anyway," the pro hero insists as his cheeks turn slightly pink. "I know you can protect yourself and you have so far, but... I want to be with you."

"You mean like your roommate?"

"Well... Yeah, in a way, but actually..."

"That doesn't sound bad," Izuku beams. Katsuki is his friend and he's the number one hero so of course he'd like the idea of being his roommate. "I'll pay you rent."

"You don't have to," Katsuki mumbles; he's clearly a little bit flustered and yet he gets even closer to Izuku.

"Then I won't–"

"Alright, you can pay me rent, nerd."

"Great!"

***

Katsuki looks happier than before, he's constantly talking about the things he's changing in the apartment before Izuku moves in; he's a very good friend, Izuku is so glad they patched things up after a long time.

He'll be paying as much as he did for his old apartment, which Izuku knows it'll be like robbing the pro hero, but Katsuki refuses to let him pay more.

Sometimes Katsuki talks about the other pro heroes who work for the same agency as he works at and it usually gets Izuku all excited because he's a hero fanboy after all.

"I'd love to meet your friends! I hope you can bring them here someday!" Izuku beams, eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as he makes a macchiato for the woman who just walked into the shop.

"Tch! Fine!"

The very next day, Izuku meets Pinky, Red Riot and Chargebolt; he can't quite believe it.

"Finally!" Pro hero Pinky says, grinning from ear to ear. "I thought I'd never meet the man who has Blasty wrapped around his little finger!"

"SHUT UP, PINKY!" Katsuki growls, but turns as red as Izuku in seconds.

It seems his friends have a wrong impression of their relationship.

"That's not the case at all," he says, feeling flustered. "We're friends! I don't have anyone–"

"You are truly adorable!" Pinky squeaks, cutting him off, before leaning over the counter to pinch his cheek.

"OI, HANDS OFF!"

"I'm Kirishima Eijiro," Red Riot introduces himself, before Katsuki has the opportunity to growl at Pinky again. It seems he's used to these kind of situations. "It's a pleasure!"

"Midoriya Izuku!"

"This is Kaminari Denki and the other pro hero is Ashido Mina."

"You're too pretty for our gremlin," Kaminari comments then, right before Katsuki hits him on the back of the head. "Ouch!"

Izuku can tell Katsuki doesn't actually hurt him, no matter how much he glares at him. It's more than obvious that he actually considers them his friends.

"So who's your favorite hero, cutie?" Ashido asks with a smirk on her face; for some reason she always looks like she has a mischievous plan in mind.

"All Might!" He answers without hesitation, prompting Katsuki to pout.

"Bro, it's alright!" Kirishima pats his friend's back gently. "I'm sure you're the second! Right, Midoriya?"

"Of course!" He answers immediately, growing nervous. He's not sure, but it looks like those three are planning something.

Katsuki seems happier after that, although it looks like he expected Izuku to say he was the favorite.

"What about the third?"

Izuku turns bright red under Ashido's mischievous glance.

"Just... Wait a minute I have to serve the tables..." He's never been happier to have customers in the shop.

"Don't think I have forgotten, cutie. Tell us who's the third..."

There's a very good reason he gets flustered by that question, however, he also doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

"Hey, Midoriya," Kirishima says sincerely. "It's okay if it's not any of us."

"Oh, okay..."

"So?" Now even Kaminari seems intrigued. Katsuki is already narrowing his eyes.

"It's pro hero Shoto."

"He's our friend too! I can bring him here so you can meet him!"

Izuku looks away from Ashido, feeling his face like it's on fire.

"I don't think it's a good–I mean It'd be awkward... I'll make it awkward because I used to have a crush on him and I'll be too nervous around him..." Izuku mumbles, scratching his left cheek nervously.

"He's going to kill him," Kaminari whispers, although it's loud enough for Izuku to hear.

"What?" He's confused, especially when he notices that Katsuki is grimacing like he's in pain.

"I'll bring Todoroki tomorrow."

"NO, YOU WON'T, PINKY!"

"Relax, Blasty... He doesn't have a crush on him anymore. Right, Midoriya?"

"Yeah, it was just a small crush anyway... Nothing serious," Izuku stammers, feeling watched. Why is that so important? He shouldn't have said anything.

***

Even as they're watching a movie, Izuku feels like something is different. Katsuki is strangely quiet and Izuku can feel him staring at him instead of watching the movie.

"What is it, Kacchan?"

The pro hero scoots closer, Izuku's cheeks turn slightly pink and he knows it's the worst possible moment to remember that, but his mind kindly reminds him he also used to have a crush on Katsuki. But it's okay now because they're friends...

"Screw it!"

"Wha–cchan!" Izuku squeaks as soon as Katsuki grabs him by the waist and sits him on his lap.

"Would you go on a date with me, nerd?"

For a second, Izuku thinks he's joking, but he knows Katsuki doesn't joke about things like that... He looks up, meeting red eyes as he feels Katsuki's hand cradling his face.

"I'd l-love to," he whispers and loves the way Katsuki smirks with triumph, but also relief.

He kisses Izuku without a second thought; the kiss is sweet, but turns into something more desperate that makes Izuku realize something...

"Wait," he pushes the pro hero away, trying not to chuckle when the blond pouts. "Is this why you wanted me to move in with you?"

At the question, Katsuki turns almost as red as his beautiful eyes.

"Yes... I wanted to tell you then that I'd be happy to start a formal relationship with you, Izuku... Because I'm in love with you."

Feeling a little bit overwhelmed, Izuku buries his face in the curve of Katsuki's neck; he listens to the pro hero chuckle.

"If you're not sure, we can just–"

"No, it's okay," Izuku cuts him off, looking up at him with a hopeful grin on his face. "I'm ready. Just promise me if it doesn't work it won't ruin our friendship."

"I promise, nerd," Katsuki whispers next to his ear, before kissing his cheek. "But let me tell you a secret... I know this is going to work."

There's no doubt in his eyes and Izuku's heart starts beating faster inside his chest, suddenly, he's also sure it'll be fine.

"Do you want to know another secret?"

"Tell me," Izuku mumbles, noticing that the pro hero looks more confident now. He likes that.

"I'm going to marry you."

"You can't know that!" Izuku giggles as Katsuki gives him a couple of kisses.

"I'm sure of it."

Izuku believes him because deep inside himself he knows it's going to happen.

"Now let me kiss you again, nerd..."

***

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

[aperrywilliams]

The Reid’s Effect (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader.

Summary: Penelope and Luke have been nagging Spencer to get a pet. Spencer isn’t very convinced but ends nonetheless at a dog shelter’s door. He hasn’t had the chance to go inside, though.

Word Count: 1.3k (short, for a change)

Warnings: Dogs? (if that is a warning). Just fluff.

A/N: Spencer Reid, dogs, and meet-cute. What else can I ask for?

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

I don’t think it's a good idea. I never thought it was, and I don't think it is. But Garcia and Luke have been very insistent lately.

I know they have good intentions, but what would I do with a pet? I barely owned a fish once, and it's better not to tell how that turned out.

But here I am, in front of a dog shelter near my apartment complex. I’m not planning to go inside, though; I’m just mulling the idea and reciting all the reasons why I should keep walking home.

It's a bad idea. Period.

I’m about to resume my walk, but I freeze when I see a dog running toward me and someone chasing it, calling its name.

“Roco! Stop!”

But the dog must be deaf because it never slows down a bit.

As I see it approach, I do the math: 70 lbs are running at 25 miles per hour. Dear God.

I should have stepped aside, but when I realized it was too late. The animal collides with me.

A sudden “oof” is all I can say when I lose my balance falling to the ground.

“Roco! What have you done?! Bad dog!” the presumable owner chastised the animal while clipping a leash to his collar. That's when they pull the dog off of me. I am still on the floor, trying to figure out what happened. As I sit, I inspect my body, looking for cuts or bruises, but I only see some dirt and dog hair on my clothes. Great.

“I’m so sorry,” they say, offering me a hand to stand up. That is when I look up and see them.

Wow, so beautiful, I thought. And I just made a fool of myself, beaten on the floor by a pet—what a sight.

With frightened eyes, they kept staring at me. Concern over their face noticing I couldn’t speak.

“Are you hurt? Do you need me to call someone to check on-?”

“Oh. No. No. I’m okay,” I say, accepting their hand to stand up.

That hand feels so warm and soft in mine. It's a very nice feeling. I would have liked to hold it for a little bit longer.

Hey Reid, what about the pathogens that could be transferred right now? For a strange reason, I don’t care. Maybe it is the way they are looking at me or the way inspecting if I’m hurt. I don’t know.

As I brush the dirt off my clothes, the apologies come again.

“I’m so sorry. Roco is a bit intense sometimes. I didn't notice when he let go of the leash. I tried to reach him. I'm so sorry.”

They look so embarrassed right now that I don't have the heart to say what consequences could have a reckless action like that.

Although those consequences made us cross paths, so I don't think it is a terrible thing right now.

“It's good that I was in the middle of his race then. So you could catch him before he ran wildly across the street,” I point, trying to make the whole thing a little bit lighter. And I think it worked when I saw them laugh.

That laugh? Heavenly music to my ears. I have never been keen on the deliberate expression of feelings, but on them, I don't mind if that leads to hearing their laugh again.

“You’re right. Though, I doubt it's what you expected to happen on your walk,” they pointed, petting the dog’s head as the animal poked their leg to call for attention.

Shush, you have the privilege all the time. Let them stay with me for a couple of seconds. I plead to the animal in my mind.

“Oh no. I do this all the time.”

What? What am I saying? Joking about being hit by a dog in the street? I don't feel like me at this moment, to be honest.

“Well, Roco and I thank you for your service. Right, buddy?”

As a cue, the animal starts to wiggle his tail, looking at me with his tongue out.

Where is the Reid effect?

“My pleasure,” I respond, giving my best less-awkward smile. They grin back, and I swear it’s the new Wonder of the World.

“Thanks again, uh - Sorry I didn’t ask you your name,” they say.

Oh. They want to know my name.

“Spencer.”

“Right. Spencer,” they repeat, and my name sounds so good rolling from their tongue that I get goosebumps.

Get a grip, Reid!

“I’m (Y/N). And you already know Roco,” they point to the dog, who barks at hearing his name.

“Yeah. I already did. But our first meeting was a little rough?, so it’s nice to greet you properly, Roco,” I tell the dog, who is waging his tail faster and approaches to tap my legs with his two front paws.

They laugh at the dog’s reaction. I could be used to that.

If only I could have the nerve to ask for their number. What are you saying, Reid? You’re not Derek Morgan. Even if you could, they wouldn’t give it to you.

“I think he likes you,” they say casually, tightening the leash a bit so the dog doesn’t bounce over me. I smile, red tinting my cheeks as if the compliment were liking them and not their dog. Wishful thinking.

I don’t know what else to say or do. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I try to accept the idea I should let (Y/N) go and I should go my way. To a cold and dull apartment, never again having the privilege of marveling at their presence or hearing their beautiful voice.

As I'm about to face my fate, Roco starts barking again, causing (Y/N) to kneel in front of him.

“What’s it, buddy?”

At the cute nickname, the dog licks their face affectionately, and (Y/N) laughs.

"Oh, that’s so? Do you think he’ll accept?" (Y/N) speaks to Roco, who responds with another bark. Maybe at another time, I would find it a little too much to see someone talking to their dog like that, but now it’s the opposite. I think it's sweet. I think (Y/N) is sweet.

Standing, (Y/N) turns their gaze to me, a shy smile gracing their lips. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what is this about. (Y/N) notice my confusion.

“Roco is still very sorry for what he did and suggested I could buy you a coffee as a peace offering.”

My jaw drops a couple of feet after hearing the words. My mind is trying to catch what is happening.

But my astonishment is confused with discomfort, so they quickly speak again.

“Sure, if it is something you could be interested in. You don’t have to, of course,” they added, almost stuttering. That’s new. It’s always me who stutters in situations like these. Who do I want to fool, anyway? Something like this had never happened to me before!

“Yes!” I suddenly blurted, almost making (Y/N) jump. Crap! Can I be less noticeable in my eagerness? “I mean, yeah. It’s something I could be interested in,” I clarify, trying to disguise the sweat in my hands and the pounding of my heart. (Y/N) nods, smiling widely.

“Great! Yeah, that’s great,” they responded, now looking at Roco. “He accepted our offer, buddy,” (Y/N) says and returns their gaze to me. “What do you think? There is a very nice pet-friendly coffee shop two blocks from here. Of course, if you don’t have to be in another place right now.”

Believe me, I wouldn’t think of being somewhere else.

“Oh, don’t worry. I have plenty of time. Shall we?” I offer, signaling to where the coffee shop is.

“Sure! Let’s go,” (Y/N) replies, smiling as they cue Roco with the leash to start walking.

Who would say that Penelope and Luke’s idea ended better than I expected?

Even better, could this be the new Reid’s Effect? I think I need to do more research about that.

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid fluff #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #the reid’s effect #meet cute

[aemondsbeloved]

The Cost of Duty Pt. 2

pairing(s): (Mentioned) Aegon II Targaryen x reader, Aemond Targaryen x reader

summary: It has been weeks since you’ve seen Aegon after you reminded him of your duty to your betrothed, his brother. If you thought you could keep your affections for Prince Aegon a secret to Aemond you were wrong.

warnings: none I think? mentions of drinking and alcoholism. this is kinda angsty kinda not. love triangle vibes between aegon, aemond and the reader but also kind of not. probably typos in this, I will edit later

notes: I haven’t really been on here because of finals taking up all my time BUT here’s part two! this is very little women inspired with aemond and the reader being like Amy and Laurie. there will be another part

[read part 1 here]

It had been weeks since you’ve seen Aegon more than a glimpse in the castle that you were granted. Ever since he had left you in the hillside of the Red Keep when you told him you would do your duty and marry his brother despite your love for him, he had done much to avoid you.

Now, you were with your betrothed. Prince Aemond held your arm as you walked the gardens.

Before you spent time in the gardens alone sometimes reading a book or doing embroidery, while other times Princess Helaena, your soon to be good sister, would join you. She had not joined you as of late, why you did not know, but you knew that Aemond without fail would come to the gardens to walk with you after his training with Ser Criston.  

“My sister has not been accompanying you as much,” He observed quietly. “Is there a reason behind this?”

When you were first betrothed to Aemond you thought his questions like this were very accusatory and had often wondered if he asked them expecting someone was always lying to him somehow. Helaena had told you this was not the case and you had trusted her.

“I am not sure, my Prince” You replied. “I had thought she was busy with her duties and I did not want to presume that she would always be free to spend her time with me.”

“What have I told you about calling me Aemond?” He asked with warmth in his voice, almost like he found your manners endearing. “We’ve known one another since we were children, the least you could do is stop the formalities.”

You only wish the smile on his face, one of mirth or at least as much mirth as someone like Aemond could muster, could incite the reaction that one from his elder brother would. There was no heat rising to your neck and cheeks nor did you feel any butterflies in your stomach at it, much to your disappointment.

You smiled in apology to him, gently squeezing his arm that you held with yours as you walked.

“I think, perhaps, that Helaena might be spending more time with my brother, if you would believe such a thing.”

You schooled your features trying not to show surprise. “Is that so?” You asked, instead.

He hummed. “Mother wants to get them married sooner rather than late and is not content with how my brother spends little time with Helaena, so he has been told to spend time with her.”

“Why move up the wedding date?” You asked, curiously.

He shrugged. “She did not say. I think, perhaps, it has something to do with father’s health. She wishes for him to see them wed, I would say. Even my grandsire agrees that they should be wed soon.”

“That is such good news” You said, despite not truly believing it as you pushed a bright smile onto your face. “It will be a wondrous thing to be at a wedding in the Sept.”

“Do not lie to me, Y/N” Aemond said, not unkind, as you reached a quieter, more secluded part of the gardens where a rose bush bloomed. “I am not blind and I know you better than you might think. Your attachment to Aegon is no secret to me.”

He had turned to you, dropping your arm for a moment as he faced you. “I am, perhaps, not the husband you wish for, but we share a duty now. My brother and sister are going to be wed soon and we too will be married by spring’s end.”

Your skin felt hot and your dress itched as you could not look him in the eye now. The shame of it, if Aemond thought you had perhaps done something with his brother besides spending time with him.

“Aemond, I—” You cut yourself off, not knowing what to say in your slight panic at what he may think of you. Affection for him or not, the thought of him, someone you had been friends with since your youth, thinking lowly of you, cut you deeply. “I have not sullied myself with Aegon.”

You pinched your eyebrows together, your eyes squinting closed at your phrasing. Sighing, you opened your eyes again. “I only mean to say that I have not lay with him. I would not do that to you, or Helaena. I-I know what you think of him, the same what your mother and grandsire think of him, but he hasn’t— we haven’t.”

“Hush” He said soothingly, holding your arm with a gentle squeeze, a gesture of reassurance. “You do not need to explain yourself to me. Ser Criston has told me you spend time with one another with great frequence, that is all.”

Your skin felt aflame at that. You had not gone into his bed chambers, you had not lain with him in bed, but you had sought him out more than your betrothed, his brother. Somehow, spending time with Aegon on the hill of the Red Keep overlooking King’s Landing felt like a more lethal form of treachery. You had told him you loved him and would only ever love him. You hated yourself for it and you hated how true the love for Aegon was despite the man standing in front of you.

“We are to be married. You will be my lord husband. If I do not have to explain my misgivings to you, who do I have to explain myself to?”

He smiled at that. Not the restrained smiled, but an open, content one. It was like hearing the words, my lord husband, from your tongue was all it took to please him. At that the knife in your heart twisted brutally.

He was making it so easy to love him with his smile, his kindness you were undeserving of, the duty he had kept to you. And you were stuck thinking of his brother, the one who had pulled your hair when you were children, and now told you he wanted to run away, shirk from his duties to his family, soon to be sister wife, and the throne.

How despicable you had turned out to be. What would your Septa say now if she could see you?

“I would never accuse you of such a thing” He said. “You are a woman of honor even if my brother has none. I will be proud to call my lady wife.”

“Aemond…” You voice trailed off, sounding unsure and quiet. What was there to say? He knew from Ser Criston Cole that you would meet with Aegon, seeking him out and having too deep a friendship to be so platonic.

“Come,” He urged, taking your arm again. “Let us walk some more, my Lady.”

“I asked a favor of Ser Criston” He told you, which made you curiously look at him from the side of your eye. “I wasn’t so sure he would agree, being as devoted as he is to my mother, but he will not tell her how you and Aegon spend so much time together. In these past weeks she has come to the conclusion that her idea to have Aegon spend more time with my sister is the reasoning behind him not being seen in the street of silk. Ser Criston agreed that it is better if this allusion remains.”

You briefly recalled how the last time you had seen Aegon he had said how glad Aemond would be if he knew he was the reason behind the elder Targaryen’s drinking habits, all because Aemond would have you and Aegon would never.

“She has elected to ignore how he barely makes it to his bed these day without the help of a Kingsguard, a new low for my brother, but I must allow my mother to take a reprieve from worrying over him.”

For a moment you wondered why he was telling you this. For the many years you had known him, Aemond was not one to do something without reason, much less tell others why he has done something.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are to be my wife, my lady, and unlike my brother I wish my marriage to be a happy one.”

Your eyes were glued to the ground at his last words. Aegon had, after all, spent nearly all his time with you besides the last weeks and never even acknowledged his sister, his wife to be. You had let him a part of you loathed your actions. No, nothing sinful had occurred between you and Aegon but you did know he was betrothed to someone who was possibly the kindest Targaryen to have lived.

You were little better than Aegon, you wagered, as you had a betrothed who was dedicated to you but you had sought his brother’s company instead.

“I do not tell you this to cause you harm, Y/N.”

Using his index finger, he gently tilted up your chin so he could look at your reluctant gaze. His touch was gentle despite the roughness of his finger, calloused from years of training with the sword.

Aegon’s fingers, the ones who had held your hand, wiped away tears from your cheek, were as soft as could be. Unlike his younger brother, Aegon did not train with the sword much.

Aemond could not be more different than Aegon, you realized. When you hurt most, desperate for Aegon to stay, he had left you on the grassy hill. You could not see Aemond doing such a thing, even if you had hurt him somehow.

“But if we are to be happy in this marriage, you cannot seek my brother’s company as you have.”

You gulped as he told you this, looking at you intently. You did not want to disappoint him nor did you want to hurt him, so you grabbed one of his hands in yours squeezing it. “I promise I will do no such thing again, Aemond. I know my duty to you, our joining families, ourselves, I do.”

He sighed, part of him seeming relieved while the other part seemed to want to say something else. Your brow furrowed, confusion marring your features at this. “What is it?”

He dropped your hand. “You have to understand, my lady. I am the second son. I know I am not your preferred choice but—”

“That is not true, Aemond” You whispered shakily. “I do not view you as such—”

“But I am a second son. Aegon has my mother’s devotion. She has to give it to him with the errors he ceaselessly makes.” He said and you could hear the resentment. “But I cannot be second in my wife’s affections. I know you cannot have the man that you want and we will be wed no matter what our heart’s desires but I will not share my wife with my brother.”

His words may not have been angry but between you both you could feel the waves of resentment for his brother, the man he knew you cared too deeply for the be platonic. The words we will be wed no matter what our hearts desires rung through your mind.

Was their a paramour of your betrothed’s, you wondered.

“Is there someone you wish to wed?” You asked, doing your utmost to sound strong, hoping you did not waver. “Someone else?”

Hu hummed at that, the way Aegon said was annoying, but you knew Aemond. It was contemplative at most. Maybe even something he did not wish to say aloud.

He looked at you, smiled again, though you noted it was a little bit tighter, like he was already holding himself back from being open with you. Holding his arm out, you took it as you both continued your walk through the gardens.  

You did not get an answer of what his affections were and who for that day in the gardens, although you knew, even then, that this went beyond your duty in its complications.

+

taglist: @greinch​ @itsghostgirlyo​ @cullenswife​ @rosaryos​

let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader

[softlyspector]

What’s this I hear? Taking requests?! 🥺💕 if you feel inspired, I would love to see this with shy reader if possible

#30: “I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!”

“I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!” + Steven Grant x shy!reader

"Well, you could just go talk to him," your friend's voice cuts through the chatter of the museum's cafe. "He probably recognizes you, since you visit so often."

You groan and turn back to your cup of tea, eyes cutting away from man across the room that you have a bit of a hopeless crush on. "Don't say that!"

"Why not? Wouldn't that make it easier?"

You duck your head and cast a glance over at him again. He's serenely flipping through the pages of a book, not paying you any mind. You watch as he sweeps his curls to the side for the umpteenth time. They keep falling into his eyes when he leans over the book.

"No," you answer, turning back to your tea again. "That's incredibly embarrassing actually."

Your friend shakes her head and finishes off the last few sips of her coffee. "Sorry to burst your bubble," she giggles, "But I think he does recognize you. Every time you look away, he looks up." She raises her hand and wiggles her fingers at what you can only presume is the handsome tour guide.

Diving forward, you catch her hand in yours and nearly upset your tea cup. "Do not do that!"

"Too late," she says cheerfully. "I bet when I get up, he comes over to talk to you."

You squeeze her arm, "Do not do that. Do not get up."

"You won't talk to him, and he clearly wants to, so what's the-,"

"I can’t talk to cute people, okay?" You interrupt. "I don’t know how to flirt!” You were introverted, and shy, and new beautiful people terrified you.

She tugs her arm out of your grip and leans across the table. "You'll thank me for this, I promise. He looks really sweet. It'll be okay. Even if you don't flirt." And with that, she stands and walks away.

You're left frozen at the table, wondering if you should bolt after her. Instead, you stare into your now cold cup of tea and vow to never bring your friends to the museum again.

Really, you expect nothing but residual anxiety. There's no way he'll actually come over.

But to your surprise, someone sits down across from you. When you glance up, you see him. The tour guide with thick brown curls swept to the side and big rounded eyes that remind you of a baby cow.

You've listened in on more than one of his tours from a distance, secretly giddy over how lovely his voice was, the kind way he spoke to the groups of children he led around.

None of that eavesdropping could have prepared you for his voice directed to and addressing you.

"Hello," he says, drawing out the end of the word. "I've - erm, hopefully this isn't too forward - I've noticed you around the museum quite a bit -,"

You look away from him, embarrassment prickling at your skin.

Oh, god. You were obvious. He had noticed. You were being weird.

"- and well, I've been quite taken with you."

You glance back up at him. "What?"

"S-Sorry," he starts to apologize. "I don't mean to sound creepy, yeah? You're very beautiful. It's hard not to notice you. That, and you're always around the Egyptology section."

You blink at him, your brain slow to catch up. "I love Egyptology."

"So do I!" He beams at you, eyes crinkling at the edges. People, you think, should not be allowed to look like that.

You smile, finally able to breathe, though scarcely able to believe your luck. "I know."

"Yeah, yeah," he sounds breathless. "'Course. Bit stupid of me."

You shake your head, struggling to form words. "I'm, um, thank you. Thanks. You didn't have to come over to say that."

Your heart is beating a mile a minute, you're sure he must be able to hear it.

"But I very much wanted to," he says. "My name is Steven Grant."

He reaches across the table and offers you his hand. You mutter your name and hastily wipe your sweaty palm on your jeans before placing your hand in his.

"I'd also like to know if you'd go on - if you'd-," you glance up when he stutters to a halt, and find him staring at his reflection in the pastry case across the way. He shakes his head with a fond smile, and turns back to you, "Would you like to go on a date with me? I understand if you'd say no, I am a bloody stranger aren't I-,"

"Yes," you cut him off before you can talk yourself out of it. "Yes. I - I noticed you too," you say, rather bravely.

"Really?"

"Yes," you manage.

You're worried about how to follow that up, but Steven manages for you. Despite his nerves, he seems rather excitable and outgoing. "Which exhibit is your favorite?" He asks.

Its a long while before either of you get up from the table.

#steven grant x you #steven grant x reader