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mooncleaver · 2 months ago

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Love's Quiet Surrender

To love without judgement, without the need to change him. Not just whenever he makes you laugh or smile, but all of his darkness. His past, his anger, his sadness. You do not desire for him to become someone else because you understand that he is enough as he is. "You can be anything you want and I'd still be here to love you." It was your promise, sealed with a gentle kiss on his lips.

ღ pairing: bucky barnes x wife!reader

ღ warnings: maaybe steamy and also sad, small thunderbolts spoilers, writing errors soooorry

"Buck?"

Your voice echoes in the warmly lit apartment. It's just some minutes past midnight, and in the air a gentle thrum permeates. A kind of stillness filled with exhaustion and comfort at the same time.

"Yes, baby?" Bucky answers almost immediately.

Even though he calls out from your bedroom, you can hear the fatigue beneath his tone. It's almost unnoticeable—he always tries to be put together whenever he talks to you and you hate it—but years of being by his side made you a whisperer or his tell tale signs. From the low lilt of his voice to the slight slur at the end of his sentence, you're no stranger to when Bucky needs to sleep.

Your husband had arrived home late today, presumably working on the whirlwind that was impeaching Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. He comes home disheveled these days, hair tousled with an aching frown on his lips—one you always try to kiss away. You can tell that this is all weighing down on him. The pressure, the bureaucracy, the slinking around your words to be sharp and polite at the same time. And the damn paperwork. It was endless. You don't think you've ever seen this much paper lying around your home and it was the 21st century.

Amongst all the papers and packets that your husband has very much not read yet, you he's been making talks to Valentina's assistant, Mel. He told you about what happened at the gala, how he attempted to convince her to switch sides. Did it go the way he expected? Mm, sort of?

It was endearing, in a way. Bucky always tried to be earnest, though sometimes it's difficult for him to spell out the right words—the right cues. You felt bad for the pout he sent your way as you giggled at his retelling. It took a few words and some kisses to convince him that he was not that awkward, and that you were sure Mel would give him something at least. The way Valentina was moving right now, there was bound to be a reason.

The man had since retired to your bedroom after some heavy coaxing. Bucky was adamant on staying out to help you clean up (he felt guilty for dropping chili sauce on your precious counters), but you didn't let him continue his sentence, knowing just how tired he was. You ushered him back, promising to join the man with an extra minute of head scratches if he followed your words. That seemed to do it, as he finally made his way to the bedroom with a small chuckle echoing.

While you were wiping down the counters, your eyes glanced towards Congressman Gary's dossier on de Fontaine. Less than the actual words on the paper, you focused on the mush of red staining the pristine white. You shook your head at the sight. Unfortunately, you don't think you've ever seen your husband finish a packet from top to bottom.

Not knowing what to do with it, you decide to just ask him. Though you think he’ll most likely tell you to throw it and every other coming packet down the trash, seeing how things are going now.

While trekking your way to him, you can hear him shuffling around in your bed, no doubt leaning onto it for a semblance of support.

When you finally arrive at your destination, the sight that greets you is nothing less than breathtaking—you say this to just about anything that Bucky does.

He's now dressed only in his white tank, evidence of the previous chili-dog accident thrown away into the laundry basket (to which he later promises to scrub it out, of course). He's got his legs spread and was, just as you had thought, leaning back on his arms against the bed. This angle lets you stare at the up and down motion of his breathing, the muscles flexing with tension. And God if this were any other night, you'd take him right then and there.

Once you're finally satisfied with your ogling—which you purposely timed in a way that lets your husband know it was much more than a simple glance—you finally speak.

"You left your packet on the counter. Didn't know if you wanted me to put it away 'cuz of the stain on it or…"

You trail off, giving him a sheepish smile as you leaned against the door with your arms crossed. Bucky's whole body just falls at the mention of the packet, his metal arm running a hand through his hair in quiet frustration. He looks done with it. It's like he's fighting the sleep right out of his eyes, and the dim bedside lamps don't help as it only accentuates a certain gauntness in his skin. Goddamn, he was trying to real hard here, but there was always an itch at the thought of only relying on the legal system. Valentina was a cunning and powerful woman. Bucky just couldn't see how a packet would overturn her entirely.

Without opening his eyes, his hand pats the top of his thigh, and you are compelled to follow that rhythm. You take quick but quiet steps to close the distance, finding yourself standing in between his legs while your hands fall on his broad shoulders. You're careful when you place your right hand down where his skin meets metal. Though he says it doesn't hurt as much as it used to, you always believe in treating his scars with the utmost kindness and care. He moves instantly, leaning forward to drag his hands down the curve of your waist before gripping the back of your thighs like he never wanted to let you go.

When he looks up at you, you see the smidge of defeat in his eyes, and the tired smile he sends your way just makes you want to cradle the man in your arms for eternity.

"Don't think this old man is cut out for this type'f thing, sweetheart." Bucky mutters almost inaudibly.

He tips his head back as he quietens, as if the weight above his head is too heavy to carry.

Despite the joke on his age, there's a small drop on your heart. It's different when Bucky says he's tired. It's because he's been doing life for a very long 110 years. You've always encouraged him to pursue everything he wanted, from the smallest thing like learning how to cook his favorite dishes to bigger ones like campaigning to be a congress member. So when he says that he doesn't feel fit to continue, a piece of your heart breaks because you understand how hard he tries. To move on, to become a better man.

You lift your hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, pushing forward lightly to let him rest on your stomach so it doesn't ache.

You shake your head while combing through his hair, pushing the loose strands behind his ear while gently replying, "Silly, everybody starts somewhere."

Bucky shakes his head against your waist, and you have to hold back a giggle at the sensation and the gesture. Sometimes your husband does things that are very childlike, and not only is it absolutely adorable, but it reminds you that he is just a human like everybody else.

"Feels like I haven't even stepped foot while everybody else is on the goddamn finishing line." He mumbles. Its nearly inaudible, but you can hear loud and clear the weight behind those words.

"That's not true." Your protest is as much convicted as it is true, and you make them known as you pull away from his grip, grabbing his shoulders to straddle him. Both your knees are bent beside his thighs, setting comfortably on the edge of the bed. It's an extremely familiar position—in many contexts. But it's the most intimate to you. Vulnerable. To be mere breathes away from his face, all of you and all of him meeting in the middle.

You know what he says isn't true because Bucky doesn't do things half-assed. He worked his way up on a very, very difficult campaign, rising above in a world that doesn't always make space for him. He has made it so far, from the Winter Soldier to Congressman Barnes. It hurts you that despite everything, he still has doubts about himself.

Even when he's hurting he holds you in his arms so gently, one arm propping behind your back while the metal one is stationed right on your neck, trailing down to your waist to join the other. Bucky pushes his face into your neck, molding it perfectly into the crook that was made for him. You run your fingers through his hair in response, wishing to relieve all the built up tension.

He breathes in your scent, nosing the skin like that mere contact could calm him down. And you feel the way he deflates beneath you, breath tensing—anticipating—as if he were scared of what he wanted to say next. The words he uttered then were so soft, yet so convicted at the same time. It sounded like he already knew it would happen. "If I went back out in the field.. would you be angry?"

Your fingers came to a pause, lips dropping into a small pout. The man slowly lifts his head up again to see why you've gone quiet and he can't help but give you a small kiss to soothe the upset.

Despite the slightly uncomfortable shift in your chest, you couldn't say you were surprised about his confession. Bucky had always been a man of action more than he was with words. He carries his promises in the way he moves. To repent, to love, to forgive. His silence spoke more than any word ever could. So it's not new to you that his sense of justice is rooted in physically fighting for it. Though you hated seeing him hurt, you loved it even more when he had that gratified smile and a look in his eyes that showed you he was proud of the man he became. You could never stop him from doing what he thought was right.

Toying with the chain of his dog tags you sighed, shaking your head in acceptance, "Worried maybe.. but never angry."

Bucky took your right hand off his chain and placed it on his cheek, softly urging you to look him in the eyes. He wanted to hear you say that right to his face. To look at the truth, the hurt and the apprehension. He wanted to understand you beyond the words that came out of your mouth.

"You mean that, sweetheart?" He kissed your palm like it was glass, savoring every line and crease as if it was heaven beneath his lips. He stopped particularly longer when he met your ring finger, where a golden band had sat comfortably for years.

Bucky was ready to see the light dim in you—he knew you didn't enjoy seeing him go back out there after everything he went through. He was ready to use everything in him to spark it again, to save whatever trust you had left in you.

But he was utterly surprised to see the pure acceptance in your eyes. That kind of willingness to stay beside him along the ride, no matter the bumps and distance in between. You looked at him like you were ready to weather the storms and carry the weight of the world with him—if not for him.

Because this is what love is. Love gives and lets go without seeking recognition, without seeking for something in return. You love because you have the capability to—to make space and celebrate another flourishing in your presence.

Being with Bucky was never about what you could get, but what you could offer him.

And so in love's quiet surrender you learn to accept without condition. To love without judgement, without the need to change him. Not just whenever he makes you laugh or smile, but all of his darkness. His past, his anger, his sadness. You do not desire for him to become someone else because you understand that he is enough as he is.

"You can be anything you want and I'd still be here to love you." It was your promise, sealed with a gentle kiss on his lips.

And suddenly it wasn't just him against the world. Wasn't just the darkness creeping into his life, never with mercy, never with kindness. There was you at the end of the tunnel, holding out your hand for him. A chance at salvation.

You could be that for him. A saving grace, a friend, a lover. You'd be anything for him if it meant you could see that rare sight of his smile again.

There is no future without him in it.

He tightens his grip around your waist, arms snaking their way beneath your pajamas to touch the skin. Not the bruising, desperate kind, but a touch that grounds him in the moment. That allows him to feel every single emotion following your confession. You arch against him lightly, laying your palm against his clothed chest when the cool metal of both his arm and the ring on the right meet your skin. But it only makes you smile into his lips, remembering that small yet incredibly meaningful detail.

He wears his wedding ring on the right instead of the left.

Bucky told you that it was because he wanted to always feel the weight on his skin. Not the phantom one on his left, but that real, wrapping sensation, so that he'd never forget one of the happiest moments of his life. So he’d never forget that there was someone waiting for him.

Bucky continues to kiss you with leisure, humming in satisfaction when your hands run up and down from the base of his neck to the top of his head. He pushed your body impossibly close, wanting to feel each and every part of you.

When he is finally satisfied with your loving, he pulls away to face you and you see that mischievous look return to his eyes. He leans in yet again, trailing little pecks that trace your jawline before asking,

"Even if I was a paperboy?"

Now this brings an unexpected laugh out of you.

You know for a fact that Bucky actually used to be paperboy back in the 30s. It's a story that you hold safe in your heart, a glimpse of a reality lost to time. You remember the first time he told you about it back before the two of you got married and the pure elation you felt. Although you knew paperboys did exist, it never settled in your head that they were real real. More than that, you never pictured that your very own husband was one back in his days.

With your head thrown back in glee, Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of you. He loved your smile, even more when he was the reason for it. His clear blue eyes took in the very image of you, everything from the hearty breathes you were releasing, the crease of your lips to the way your throat bobbed. He would trade the world for the sound of your laughter and the stars for that glimmer in your eyes.

"Oh I can just imagine little Bucky riding around the neighborhood in his overalls and newsboy cap. I bet you made eeeveryone fall for how cute you were."

It was meant to be a tease on your husband's charming nature, but deep down you genuinely believed that to be true. And you were proven right when he shrugged in response, that annoyingly handsome smug smile settling deeply on his face.

"How'd you think I sold out everytime, doll?"

It's times like these where you see the light come back into his eyes. The nonchalance, the proud puff in his chest. He has such a beautiful smile. The most beautiful.

The surge of love you felt propelled you to wrap your arms around his head, pushing his face to rest on your plush chest. "You were a charmer weren't you?"

"Born and raised, ma'am." He mumbled against the soft fabric of your top. His hand drifted down to the bottom of your ass, caressing in a silent promise for the coming night.

You chased after it, placing your hand on top of his and then dragging your fingers up lazily, tracing the vein on his bicep. It teetered on his shoulder now, where you could feel him shudder and then flex beneath. With this gesture you felt the utter pride and masculinity showing. "You're not even denying it!" You exclaim as his lips move away from that comfortable spot on your chest to press a thousand pecks on your neck and then cheek. His beard—the one that you begged for him not to shave off—ticked you pleasantly. Once he realizes this fact though, he cheekily shakes his head, and you squirmed to get away only for him to snake a hand behind your head to softly guide you back to his lips.

You sighed against him, closing your eyes to savor the feeling. "The man of my dreams."

"You dreaming of me?" It took him a while to answer you, too occupied with tasting your sweetness. He whispered the tease right beside your ears, his lips mapping the shell as he softly nipped your earlobe.

"Every night Bucky."

WOWWWW thunderbolts Bucky changed my life you guys (hello prince hair). I initially wanted to write a playful little moment with him but got a tiiiny bit emotional 😅

ALSO ITS CANON TO MEEE that Bucky used to be a paperboy. I literally couldn't stop laughing at the thought

masterlist

dividers by @enchanthings-a

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piastriprincess · 2 months ago

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if you keep it just yours ⸻ charles leclerc x reader .

featuring charles leclerc , writer!reader , fluff , smau . author’s note requested by anon ! i’m sorry it took so long but i loved your request and your kind words , i hope i did it justice ! tried to get this out today in honor of the #chodium . this is my first try at an smau so PLEASE be nice … i’m still not sure i love the way this turned out but nevertheless we persist ! i also had to drop some ancient charles lore in this … rip bawsixteen we still talk about you . anyway please let me know what you think and if i should keep trying smaus … i promise i won’t be upset if you hated it <3 title is from paris by taylor swift (in honor of her owning the masters again !!!)

liked by emmachamberlain, dollyalderton and 27,054 others yourusername it’s official — i’m in my monaco era! paris will always have mon coeur but it’s time for a change of scenery. here’s to good beaches and hopefully better stories 🐚💌

user1 THEEEE modern carrie bradshaw frfr ⤷ user2 No bc I can’t wait to hear her stories about the Monaco dating scene??? user3 romanticizing your life is BACK and yn is leading the charge !! user4 already screaming at how chic this is. give me the essay collection immediately yourbff OMG I need to visit asappppp ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername missing you already ! user5 bienvenue à monaco! you will love it here :) user6 main character of her own european romance novel iktr camillecharriere oh i want to be you when i grow up ♥ liked by author user7 This post feels like the opening scene of an HBO show I’ll binge 16000 times…

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to: Y/N L/N [email protected] from: Jean-Claude Ravello [email protected] subject: Bienvenue au Bellevue!

Bonjour mademoiselle L/N,

Welcome to your new home at the Residence Bellevue — we are so happy to have you here! I am sure you will quickly discover that Monaco is a small place, but this building is even smaller. Please, consider yourself part of the family already!

A few quick notes to help you settle in:

Waste and recycling are collected on Tuesdays and Fridays. There are trash chutes on every floor, but the recycling must be taken to the bins by the side entrance.

Wi-Fi information is included in the welcome folder. I know you mentioned you were a writer, so if you should need a stronger signal, the rooftop lounge is a favorite quiet working spot for our residents.

Your neighbors are both longtime Bellevue residents, so if you have any questions about the building that I cannot answer (or you just do not want to ask me!) please feel free to reach out to them. Charles actually grew up in Monaco and knows the city inside and out so if you need any recommendations I am sure he would be happy to help. Sharing both neighbors’ contact information (with permission):

Laura (16A): +377 08 35 19 72

Charles (16C): +377 99 42 67 01

Do not hesitate to contact me with any maintenance concerns or general questions! Wishing you a smooth unpacking. We are delighted to have you join our community.

Welcome home, Jean-Claude Ravello Building Superintendent

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liked by jiatortellini, kikagomes and 31,652 others yourusername from me to you, a new essay on the unique magic of starting over and the way a stranger can start to feel like a story. up now on substack! let me know what you think xx

user8 “balcony boy” WE CHEERED MOTHER IS BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER ⤷ user9 Her writing isn’t just about the men she’s dating… ⤷ user8 okay congrats you read. do you want a medal?? should we throw a party?? should we invite bella hadid?? marlowetatiana Obsessed ! ♥ liked by author user10 saw the notif at brunch and opened substack immediately like sorry guys my parasocial internet bestie needs to tell me about her new crush user11 @ oprah @ reesewitherspoon @ pitbull GET HER A BOOK DEAL STAT! ⤷ user12 girl what is mr. worldwide going to do… user13 “Maybe Balcony Boy and I will never really meet. Maybe we’re destined to almost-know each other indefinitely… But still, there’s something delicious about the romance of the near miss.” WOW!!!! ♥ liked by author yourbff What did I say… I give it a week ⤷ yourusername it’s been ten days actually. this is what growth looks like! take notes! user14 i get her bc balcony boy has me in a chokehold too and i’ve never even seen him

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OUTGOING AUDIO MESSAGE ▶‖ to: bestie • 02:23 •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•

“Okay, so… I know I was supposed to check in after fifteen minutes and I’m really late and now I’m hiding out in the bathroom like I’m in a rom com from the 2000s because… I don’t know, I just — I just need a minute to breathe. [pause] I thought this was just a stupid little crush and I’d go on this date and get over it but he’s… Babe, he’s really sweet. He opened doors for me. He pulled out my chair. He called me chérie. He even laughed at my stupid joke about the bread basket! And he’s so — ugh. He’s so pretty and he smells so good, it’s rude. It’s actually unfair how perfect he is. [long sigh] But that’s not even the thing. Like, it’s not even that he’s cute. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit that he’s cute but — he’s smart. And funny. And curious, and he listens when I talk, like really listens, even if it’s stupid or rambley, and he asked about my writing and actually wanted to hear about it. I don’t want to jinx it or anything, but… yeah. I might be in trouble here. It feels like it could be something, you know? [pause] Okay. I really need to go back before he thinks I climbed out the window. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Love you so much.”

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@ yourusername • instagram notifications you have (1) new follow request from @ bawsixteen !

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liked by hunterh, oliviarodrigo, and 28,253 others yourusername life is looking pretty good lately

user15 is that a m-m-man ?!?!?!?! ⤷ user16 better question IS THAT BALCONY BOY ⤷ user17 It literally has to be! She hasn’t written about anyone else user15 okay i’ve gotten over my shock. who the hell is he bc his hand is fine as fuck rachsyme and you look even better! ♥ liked by author yourbff oh so we’re soft launching now… 👀 ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername yeahhhhh so i owe you SEVERAL voice memos user18 LOVERGIRL ERA user19 mother is boo’d up… congrats to whoever’s bouncing on it 😭 ⤷ user20 you almost got it sweetie. don’t worry. we’ll wait. bawsixteen Pretty flowers :) ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername almost as pretty as the guy who gave them to me :)

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to: All Subscribers [email protected] from: Y/N [email protected] subject: everything i know about falling

Everything I Know About… Falling

So here’s the thing about me and Balcony Boy (and yes, even though we’re actually dating now, I’m still not graduating to using his actual name with you all!) Somewhere in between our first kiss overlooking the harbor and him learning to make me blueberry pancakes just the way I like them, I’ve realized I can’t lie to myself that it’s casual anymore.

And that is completely terrifying.

You know that feeling when you’re reading a really good book and you look up and realize that you’ve been on another planet for hours? Where you’ve forgotten to check your phone, forgotten to be anxious about deadlines, forgotten about every single thing except the story and the words on the page? That’s what being with Balcony Boy feels like. Like nothing matters except existing in that very moment with him.

I’m not used to staying present like that. My mind is like a summer storm, always pulled in a million different directions. I used to think it was a strength of mine: a skill, even. It made me a better writer, a better thinker. But that constant motion was also my shield — from boredom, from failure, from getting too attached to anything. Self-preservation disguised as independence. Emotional distance disguised as something casual.

When Balcony Boy came into my life, yes, I liked him immediately. Six feet of tan, hot, shirtless neighbor. Let’s be real. Who wouldn’t enjoy that view? But somewhere along the way, he stopped being a charming background character in my life and started being the type of steady presence that made me want to slow down. To sit still. To listen. To trust. And that is such a new feeling that I can’t help but be scared.

Here’s the truth: I’ve dated a lot of men who liked the idea of me. Men who wanted to be a muse and then flinched when I spilled my truth onto the page. Men who liked a complicated woman until the complications weren’t cute anymore. Men who wanted me to be emotionally available for them, and who never really listened in return. All of that was okay, because I wasn’t staying still long enough for the pain to be anything more than a glancing blow.

But Balcony Boy doesn’t just like the idea of me. He doesn’t need to be the story — he just wants to make space for mine. He reads my drafts and underlines all his favorite lines. He twirls me around my kitchen when I laugh and he holds me when I cry. He listens. He shows up, quietly and without spectacle. He brings me coffee and croissants when I’ve been writing too long and forget to eat. It sounds crazy, but I'm scared of this because if I lose it, for the first time in a long time, it'll really, really hurt. But Balcony Boy tells me I’m brave when I’m terrified. And for the first time in a long time, he makes me want to believe him.

I used to think love was about dramatic gestures, but maybe this is what love feels like when it’s real. Not the fireworks (although there are plenty of those, too), but the foundation. Not someone catching you when you fall, but someone taking your hand so you don’t have to be scared of the jump in the first place.

So here I am. Jumping, without hesitation. And if the fall kills me, at least I’ll have had the pleasure of doing it with him.

yours, y/n xx

next week: everything i know about long-distance - on dating someone whose job takes them away more than you’d like, and learning to miss someone properly.

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liked by bawsixteen, rachelchinouriri, and 29,311 others yourusername so in love that i might stop breathing, drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

user21 mama… mama a man behind you ⤷ user22 the launch is getting harder and harder user23 starting the investigation into balcony boy’s identity. james bond has nothing on me yourbff Happy looks sooooo good on you babe ♥ liked by author user24 the note OH LET ME KILL MYSELF !!!!!!!!!! hunterh beautiful girl! ♥ liked by author user25 this has gone on long enough WHO IS HE ⤷ user26 She’s allowed to keep it private for as long as she wants! ⤷ user25 "keep it private" blah blah blah consider i’m living vicariously through her and i want to know :) ⤷ user27 that's definitely a ferrari he's driving in slide 3... bawsixteen Belle chérie ♥ liked by author user28 oh i just KNOW balcony boy is sooooooo fine

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REDDIT: TOP POSTS TODAY r/yourusername • crossposted to r/formula1 • 3h ago posted by u/luvleclerc

hear me out… i think i know who balcony boy is!

okay i know this sounds insane but LISTEN. i’ve been reading y/n’s substack for ages and am also a huge fan of formula one. i’m absolutely convinced that balcony boy is charles leclerc.

EVIDENCE so yall don’t call me crazy:

so y/n moved to monaco a few months ago, and posted this photo from her balcony. she’s never said exactly where she lives but you can see the harbor in the background and we know charles lives near there. and this story he posted the other day? like not to be a stalker but tell me that’s not almost exactly the same view. almost like they're neighbors... also the timeline of her moving to monaco almost perfectly matches when charles started posting less on socials!!!

then we get into the balcony boy content, which if you haven’t read… oh my god. y/n’s writing is so beautiful that it doesn’t even make you feel bad about being painfully single. balcony boy literally feels like a romcom hero come to life. she doesn’t drop a ton of personal details about him but here’s what she HAS said:

“Some people flirt with their eyes and their smile. Others, apparently, do it by playing you a piano étude at golden hour, notes drifting on the sea breeze like a love song.” … guess who else FAMOUSLY plays piano????? charles marc hervé perceval leclerc.

balcony boy is genuinely curious about her writing and reads all her essays. this is exactly how charles is in interviews - always engaged and thoughtful with questions.

balcony boy is fine with being written about and isn’t bothered that y/n is somewhat well known. sounds like a person who already knows how it feels to be in the spotlight!!!!

“Dating a man who’s gone every other weekend means learning to say goodbye. But even when he’s on the other side of the world, he never makes me feel like he’s far away.” F1 CALENDAR HELLO…

mentioned that balcony boy grew up near where they live (“knows the streets of this place like the lyrics of his favorite song”). prince of monaco!!!! i rest my case!!!!

one last thing: her most recent posts are totally a soft launch and the guy’s hair in the 1st slide looks EXACTLY like charles's. plus there’s this comment from someone called @ bawsixteen about the flowers like he gave them to her? i checked the account and it’s private with no profile photo, but the display name says CL. cl… sixteen… it CAN’T be a coincidence!!

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TOP COMMENTS u/f1gossipgirl • 3h ago this is the most unhinged thing i’ve ever read but you’ve convinced me ⬆ 3.4K ⬇

u/fromthedeskof • 48m ago NOOOOO PLEASEEE not my favorite microinfluencer i can’t have everyone finding out about her… she’s MY parasocial bestie ⬆ 2.5K ⬇ ⤷ u/albonnation • 11m ago it's too late she has wag allegations :( she’s about to blow up ⬆ 332 ⬇ ⤷ u/everythingyn • 9m ago rip to our cozy lil substack community, she will be missed 💔 ⬆ 597 ⬇

u/BeanbagGreg • 1h ago This subreddit is focused on racing. Stick to discussion of driving please ⬆ 1.7K ⬇ ⤷ u/piastriwdc • 26m ago literally no one asked you to read this… how many times do we have to teach you this lesson old man? ⬆ 4.8K ⬇

u/romanticrealist • 35m ago ok grandma let’s get you to bed ⬆ 992 ⬇ ⤷ u/sallyrooneyluvbot • 6m ago Literally like as if she would ever date an athlete?? Be so fr ⬆ 81 ⬇ ⤷ u/landoleclerc • 2m ago um have you SEEN charles leclerc? don’t you ever speak on my goat like that ⬆ 133 ⬇

u/charlesdefender • 2h ago wait she’s sooooo pretty what’s her instagram ⬆ 689 ⬇

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@ yourusername • instagram notifications you have (8,692) new follow requests from @ leclercwdc, @ charloslover, @ f1ella and others !

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liked by charles_leclerc, bawsixteen, and 95,214 others yourusername privacy sign on the door… taking balcony boy offline for now xx

charles_leclerc Je t’aime ♥ liked by author

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peanutalergy · 4 months ago

Note

would you write something where Spencer finds reader's lost cat and brings it back to her then they keep in touch + they both develop a little crush on each other?

your writing is wonderful!! <3

-🪲

tags: fluff fluff fluff but there's making out (?) idk if that counts as anything; also lots of cursing lowkey; reader is lowk penelope garcia coded

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: tysm for the req that's an adorable idea unfortunately not such great execution from my part also I wrote this in like an hour I'm so exhausted I should go to sleep but whatever I also don't know if this what you meant anon I'm sorry if it's not 😭 yeah I hate this sorry idk what to say it sucks

MISSING CAT

orange, green eyed, really chubby cat, last seen at ~3:30pm on november 9th. he will answer to garfield or little fucker; most likely the latter, despite that not being his name. he's very clingy, he’ll probably come up to you and start rubbing on your leg like the little freak he is but he's actually just a baby who needs his mom (me) so please call this number if you find him.

reward: $10 and a kiss maybe if you’re nice enough

spencer chuckled when he reached the end of the text and saw the adorable picture of a ginger fat cat. he read over the number on the poster, making sure to keep it stored in a folder at the back of his head along with the image of garfield as he returned to his walk.

not even an hour later, when walking past a not-so-nice smelling trash can, he heard some loud purring coming from one of the boxes surrounding it.

if it were any other day, he would have ignored it, guessing it's just another stray cat, but he was still thinking about garfield and his seemingly interesting owner.

“garfield…?” spencer called out from afar. silence. he took a few steps closer, trying to peek over the box while keeping his distance so as to avoid getting jumped at and attacked. “little… fucker…?” he choked over the nickname.

immediately, the animal that had been in his mind since seeing his picture jumped out of the box, purring louder as he started rubbing on spencer’s legs. he chuckled despite being scared.

garfield wasn't nearly as well kept then as he was in the picture, due to the days he had been on the streets. still chubby, but dirty and with a few patches of dried blood in his fur. spencer tried to move away, seeing his pants getting smudged, but the cat just started following him.

spencer pulled out his phone and started dialing the number seen on the poster, still trying to avoid the animal. after a few rings, you picked up.

“hello?...”

“hi, is this garfield’s, uh… owner?”

“yeah, why? have you found him...?”

“i think i did, yeah.”

“oh my god, wait, actually? is he okay? are you serious?” you mumbled excitedly, sitting up from the position you were comfortably lying in, the show on your tv already forgotten.

“i am serious, yeah. i'm just out on a walk, and, uh… he was in a box near a trash can. he's all dirty and bloody, but he seems okay.”

“my poor baby” you said with a pout “where are you? wait– who are you? who do i owe my son’s life to? my savior, my hero?”

“oh, i’m just… just spencer, really.” he said with an awkward chuckle, giving in and leaning down to caress the cat, who immediately leans into his hands as if he's never been pet before, “spencer reid.”

“mm, cool. anyway, where are you? i’m going to pick him up. tell him mommy’s coming. actually maybe don't. don't refer to me as mommy, please.”

“uh, well, i wouldn't mind dropping him off at your place, if you want.”

“i thought you were on a walk? you're gonna walk all the way to my apartment with that fucker in your arms?”

“yeah, so… yeah, actually. does he… is he fine with being carried?”

“oh, totally, he loves uppies, but it's–”

“sorry, what? uppies??” he cut you off, confusion and disbelief clear in his voice.

“yeah…? uppies… like… when you carry an animal? in your arms?...” a bleach and tone, like???

“oh, okay…”

“yeah, so, he loves uppies. but it's just inconvenient, no? carrying him like that? where even are you, dude? is it not far?”

after you tell him your address, spencer decided it's close enough to walk there with an overweight cat in his arms. however, when he took forty minutes to show up at your door, panting and sweaty, you realized that probably wasn't a good idea.

“jesus, man, you could've just said you can't walk that long with this fucker.” you said as you opened the door, letting him in and taking the cat in your arms, talking to him in that tiny, baby voice. “oh my god, my baby, thank you so much. you poor thing. where were you, sweetheart? i missed you so so so much…”

spencer stood awkwardly in the doorway, wiping away the dirt that the animal left in his shirt, as you kept mumbling to him.

it must have been around another half hour before you set him down on the ground again, but when you did so, you looked at spencer and gasped, “oh, where are my manners? i'm so sorry, i forgot you were there. come in, jesus, come on in.”

he walked in, and after offering him a glass of water, you led him to sit on the couch. settling awkwardly beside you, he said “so, uh… is he alright? hurt..?”

“no, he's okay. i mean, as far as i can tell. not a vet, or anything. i don't think the blood is his… although that doesn't make it any less worrying. i'll give his vet a call. maybe stop by the clinic. yeah, i should probably stop by the clinic, shouldn't i?”

“yeah, probably. does he have all his vaccines?”

“of course.”

“still, there's a chance he would have caught a disease or eaten something that could have been infected. it's always good to make sure.”

“yeah, i know. i’ll give them a call, see if they can see us today.” you said, to which spencer replied with a nod, the two of you falling silent for a moment. “oh, right, the reward.”

you stood up and walked to the table, taking your wallet and a $10 bill from it. “there's no need, really… it's okay. don't worry about it” he argued, shaking his head when you offered him the money.

“no, oh my god, no, this is the least i can do. you walked so far, with that little heavy fucker. please, just take this. actually, you deserve more. i can barely handle to hold him for more than a few minutes, i'm not sure how you–” you look him up and down “–managed to walk with him for so long. just take the money.” you mumble, taking another bill from your wallet and handing it to him.

"no, no, really, it's fine, i swear."

"no, stop it. you're not leaving until you take this money."

he took it with a scoff, seeing how you won't take no for an answer.

“i should give you the other part of the reward, too.” you said with a chuckle as you sat back down beside him.

“what, the kiss?” he stammered, shaking his head as his face goes red and his eyes widened slightly.

“yeah, you want it?” he started stuttering when you said that, so before he got a proper word out, you added “nah, man, i'm just joking. i put that there to be funny, i'd never kiss a stranger like that.”

“oh, yeah, that… that makes sense.” he laughed shyly, nodding.

the cat showed up again, and you went back to talking about him, until spencer decided it's time to go home, which was only around a few hours later.

now, you're not sure when that turned into what it is now, but you're glad it did.

maybe it was the day after that, when you took garfield to the groomers, and sent spencer a picture of him when he got home, wearing the cute tie they always give him.

maybe it was when you started sending every picture you took of garfield to spencer.

or maybe it was when you started talking about things unrelated to the animal.

you're not sure. but now, spencer reid is at your place again, wearing a colorful hat and singing happy birthday to your cat.

of course, he's the only other person at the party. he's the only friend you were certain would show up. and that he did, after rambling about how the cat didn’t even know it was his birthday.

“woo hoo!! happy birthday, baby!” you exclaim when the song is over, taking the cat in your arms and giving him kisses.

“yay, happy birthday, garfield!” he says with a chuckle, petting him.

as soon as he starts getting fussy, though, you put him back down on the ground with a giggle, “yeah, yeah, off you go.”

“i did tell you he doesn't know the date he was born in.”

“well, yeah, but at least he's getting plenty of treats.” you shrug as you throw yourself on the sofa along with spencer, taking off the birthday hats and tossing them to the side. “he knows he's loved.”

“i'm sure he does” he mumbles, smiling at you softly.

“thanks, by the way” you mutter after a beat, turning to him and giving him a nod.

“for what?”

“finding him.”

“that was ages ago, you've thanked me 63 times since then.” he says with a laugh.

“it's not enough, though. he's a stupid little cat, i doubt he would have survived more time out there. you saved his life, probably.”

he nods, staying quiet for another moment.

“y'know, there is one way you could thank me.”

“yeah…?” you already know what he's talking about, he already knows that you already know. the blush in his cheeks that showed up as he said that, his fidgety fingers, the way he started avoiding your gaze.

“the, uhm… the other part of the reward…”

you'd tease him, make him actually say it, if it weren't for how anxious he looks. it physically hurts, how awkward he is.

so instead, you move your hands to his shoulders as you lean in to press your lips to his. for a second, you're scared this isn't what he was talking about. you're wondering if you've just screwed up a friendship, until he moves a shy hand up to your face.

he feels scared, at first. he holds your jaw, fingers gently tangling in your hair as he hesitantly kisses you. but when a moment goes by like that, and you move to sit on his lap, straddling his hips, it's like something within him changes.

he starts kissing you like you're the first and last thing he'll ever touch, his hands roaming down your body as he slides his tongue into your mouth. he bites and sucks at your bottom lip while his arms wrap around your waist, and your own arms go around his neck.

but a man can't live only off of his beloved’s lips. unfortunately, humans do need oxygen. so when he needs to pull away to breathe, he does so with a groan.

panting, you stare at each other with a smile, and pressing one quick peck to his lips, you whisper, “thank you.”

"no, thank you.”

#fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfic #love u #🪲#my stuff

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23victoria · 1 year ago

Text

“can you watch my boyfriend for a sec?” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: TikTok trend with the grid!!

authors note: saw the carlos one and knew i had to write about it!! his reaction made me laugh!! i also just saw mclaren do it to oscar!! i hope the other teams do it to their drivers as well!! also first time writing for seb, jenson, and daniel, i had the time so i said why not?!any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab something from the car."

You head out, leaving Lewis alone in front of your phone's camera. He looks around, slightly bewildered.

"What? Y/N who’s on the phone? Uh, hey there. I guess I'm being watched. So... how's everyone doing? Good? Cool. Uh, any Mercedes fans here?" He starts talking about his day and how Roscoe is doing, trying to entertain the 'audience'. "Alright, she'll be back any minute now... right?"

Max

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take out the trash."

Max raises an eyebrow as you walk away. He looks at the phone, unsure of what to say.

"Huh? Um, okay. This is weird. Hi, everyone….I guess…..Y/N what is this?! Who’s on the phone? So…what do we do now? Should I... talk about racing? Or... maybe I could just sit here…?" He awkwardly shuffles in his seat, checking his watch. "How long does it take to throw out the trash? Y/N come back! I don’t know what to say or do!"

Lando

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get a drink from the kitchen."

Lando grins as you walk away, immediately knowing the TikTok trend. He leans in closer to the camera.

"Hey, TikTok! I was wondering when Y/N was going to do this trend on me! What have you guys been up to? Should I prank her back? Give me some ideas in the comments!" He starts to look around, trying to find something to do. "Should I play some games on my computer or maybe I'll hide and jump out when she gets back?"

Oscar

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get my food."

Oscar blinks, looking at the phone and then at the door you just walked towards. He frowns slightly.

"Huh? What….okay? Uh, hi? I guess you guys are going to watch me eat my breakfast…Not sure what I'm supposed to do here. Should I be saying something interesting?" He scratches his head, and moves his food around, clearly uncomfortable. "So, did you guys have breakfast yet? I hope you did, breakfast is important….uhhh yea. Y/N!! Babe!! Come back!! I don’t know what to do!!"

Charles

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take a call."

Charles watches you leave, then looks at the phone, confused but trying to be polite.

"Uh? Wait what? Hello, everyone. I guess your...on watch duty?" He laughs nervously. "This feels strange. Maybe I should sing a song? Or talk about Ferrari? Oh, I know, I'll play some music on my piano!" He moves towards the piano, but then hesitates. "Wait, how long is this call going to be? Y/N! Baby!!"

Carlos

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to make a smoothie."

Carlos looks at the camera, then at the direction you went, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this? Hello? Anyone there? Who were you talking to? Y/N?! Uhhhh hi… Wait, a smoothie? Bebe make me one too please! Okay, hi everyone. This is Carlos, just here... being watched?" He starts looking around, picking up random items on the table. "So, let me show you my favorite things on this table. This is a cool pen, and this is... a coaster. Fascinating, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is so weird. How long does making a smoothie take anyway?"

Sebastian

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to water the plants."

Sebastian gives you a puzzled look as you leave and then turns to the camera, smiling politely.

"What?! Y/N what is this? Hello? Hello? Anywhere there? I’m confused… Y/N!! Who were you talking too? Honey? … Um, hello everyone… I guess I'm under surveillance now." He chuckles. "So, while she's watering the plants, let's talk about... sustainability! Did you know you can make your own compost at home? It's really simple and great for your garden." He starts explaining the process, gesturing enthusiastically. "I hope she comes back soon because I might run out of eco-friendly tips! Oh wait!! I know! Let me show you my bees!!"

Jenson

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab the mail."

Jenson watches you leave with a bemused smile, then looks at the phone.

"Ummm what?! Babe? Y/N? Hello? Uhhh..hey there. So, I guess I need to be watched for a minute. You guys are in babysitting duty? Let’s see... what can I do to entertain you?" He glances around and spots his dogs. "Hey, meet my dogs! Come here babies!." He tries to get their attention but Bentley and Rouge ignore him, while Storm walks up to him, just to sit and stare at him. "Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess they’re tired from playing this morning. Oh well, maybe next time! Isn’t that right Storm." he says putting down the camera.

Daniel

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to fix something in the bathroom."

Daniel immediately grins and laughs as you walk away, sensing a prank.

“Huh? Babe? What? Oh wait! It’s that TikTok trend!! Alright, what’s up TikTok, what's going on? He starts making funny faces at the camera and then leans in closer. "I have no idea what to talk about. This is so stupid and awkward.” He says bursting out laughing. He keeps glancing towards the bathroom, barely containing his laughter. "Babe come back!!"

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yyuangss · 1 year ago

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GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

#@ 𝐘𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐒 ★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈: 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #caelus x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader

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karaeilish · 2 months ago

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౨ৎ wild mustang; b. eilish

౨ৎ military!billie x wife!reader ౨ৎ angst & fluff & smut ` ౨ৎ warnings; slight daddy kink, strap, oral, breeding kink, manhandling…???

⋆˙⟡ being a military wife is hard, especially when separation forces you to bring another man into your house ౨ৎ wc; 4,5k

one year, three months and two days.

that's how long it's been since you last saw your wife. when you last felt her gentle touch, saw her smile live, felt her skin under your fingertips. exactly one year, three months and two days ago, you woke up in the morning, finding your bed unusually cold and her side empty. too empty, as if she'd been gone for hours.

but that wasn't the main thing when you suddenly hear a quiet mooing in the next room. maternal instincts override curiosity and you slowly stand up, blindly searching for your house slippers with your feet. the cool air envelops your sleepy body and you shiver slightly, wishing you could go back to bed and let the warmth of the comforter warm you up again. but it doesn't matter as soon as you enter the nursery, noticing your five-month-old daughter lying in her crib, fidgeting excitedly.

taking your baby in your arms, you left a gentle kiss on her tiny forehead, and the girl smiled, proudly showing her two baby teeth. holding her against your chest, you finally got rid of the fog of sleep in your eyes, now intent on finding your wife.

the journey down the stairs to the first floor was silent, apart from the adorable yawns your daughter let out as she weakly grasped the strap of your nightie with her fingers.

looking around the house, you feel a strange emptiness in your chest that spreads like poison ivy through your body with each passing moment. as soon as your feet touch the floor, you swallow hard, taking a few more steps to lower your child onto the soft couch in the middle of the spacious living room. biting your lower lip, you glance around the space, which is filled with simple but harmonious furniture, some of which billie made herself. a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

as you continue your wife's 'search' through the small house, you come across the kitchen table where you used to eat, noticing a small piece of paper. wrinkled, already scribbled with a pen; apparently one on which billye had already made notes earlier. your eyes narrow at the increasing paranoid thoughts that immediately fill your mind. you remember that you cleaned up the kitchen last night, and billye wouldn't have left trash on the table. she liked order in her house, where her family lived. you shallow.

as you unfold the note, you notice the small written text. billye's handwriting, only more sprawling, shaky, some of the letters unfinished. she was in a hurry, a great hurry, while writing this. and it didn't bode well, knowing her job and her superiors. knowing her dedication to her duty and her country. it was something no one could ever take away.

your eyes finally focus on the text. but you better damn well never read it, because your heart shatters into a million pieces as soon as you read the first few words.

“i'm sorry, my love. i don't know what happened. i don't know when i'll be back. kiss lily and tell her mommy loves her. i'm so sorry, i love you.”

your eyes ran over the lines dozens, hundreds of times until you finally realized what had happened; she’s not here. but what was scarier? how suddenly and spontaneously she left. had something terrible happened? was she in danger? would

she even be able to come home? the questions swarmed in your head, but none of them could be answered by you or the universe. none of them could, because you were a military wife. because she was involved in covert operations.

“gosh” you whisper to yourself as your thoughts dart from one corner of the room to the other. besides your wife, you have a daughter to worry about. or rather, you should worry about your daughter first, but it's so hard to even take a full breath right now, your chest clenched so tightly it feels like it's been pulled with thick barbed wire.

the seconds seemed like an eternity, until you were gripping the kitchen counter with your hand, trying to stay upright on woozy legs. your head was spinning, and so were your thoughts that you couldn't concentrate on any of them for more than half a second. the world seemed like an abyss into which you were about to fall until you saw her face again. her blue eyes, her plump lips. until you knew she was all right.

but now, when there's a baby lying a few feet away from you, your baby who is completely defenseless without you around him 24 hours a day, you realize that you shouldn't feel sorry for yourself. you have no right to. you knew who you were marrying when you said yes to billie, looking into her eyes with tenderness and promise. you promised that you could survive every moment of separation, no matter how long it lasted. no matter how many lonely days you had to fall asleep in a cold bed. she swore that she would come back. no matter what happened, she would come back to you. with a broken head, without a limb, covered in scars, but she would come back to you. you knew it, you always knew it, it's just that sometimes the waiting is exhausting, it ruins the hopes of coming back, the hopes of a happy life, but no waiting lasts forever.

a month ago lily turned one and a half years old. the little girl already speaks some words, understands basic requests, and with such sadness, like you, looks at the pictures of billye, standing on some shelves in your house, as if she really understands that her mother is not around for a long time, even if she barely remembers her.

but you don't consider yourself a single mother, not since the moment your close friend alex started helping you with lily. and no matter how skeptical you were at first, he really helped you, he was always there for you, supporting both you and your daughter. lily loved him, loved him very much, almost considered him daddy, but when she first called him that, you corrected her, explaining that alex was a friend, that she has a mom, she was just far away now. you didn't wanna think about the fact that billie might not come back and alex would really be your daughter's daddy. you loved him, appreciated him endlessly, and were always grateful to him, but he wasn't lily's parent, and he never would be, no matter how much he wanted to.

darkness creeps up quickly, and you both don't notice the sun hiding behind the horizon and the cool evening setting in. lily stops actively crawling, yawning, mostly staring at one point, or lazily trying to climb into your arms. her little head rests on your chest, her fingers grasping the edge of your silk robe.

"let me put her to bed. you're already tired" alex says quietly so as not to wake your daughter, who apparently passed out in your arms in a matter of minutes, and you, knowing that you are wildly exhausted, decide not to resist, carefully handing the girl into the man's arms. he tells you to go to sleep before disappearing to the second floor.

as soon as you were alone, your thoughts were once again filled with the one person you missed so sincerely and deeply. although you probably miss a very different billie. it's been a year and you've both changed a lot.

as luck would have it, you notice the only unwashed plate from dinner resting on the dining table. your perfectionism doesn't allow you to leave it until tomorrow morning, so you get up, dripping a few drops of detergent on the sponge and scrubbing the frozen mashed potatoes off the ceramic surface in a couple of minutes. you're not as tired, but you can still feel your eyes closing, deciding to go to bed as you'd been advised. until the unexpected ringing of the doorbell interrupts your plans. you sigh heavily, not realizing who could have been brought to your doorstep close to midnight.

without much enthusiasm, you open the front door, and your expression immediately changes and the blood drains from your cheeks. you see your wife in front of you. with a different hairstyle, a different build, a more tired face, but still with the same eyes, the same look. a downpour is roaring outside, and it has a strong effect on her clothes, which are now completely soaked, her hair, part of which was covered by her military cap, although her long curls were drenched. for the first seconds, which seemed like an eternity, you were silent, staring into each other's eyes, until billie finally dared to break the silence.

"can i come in?" she asked quietly, but you notice immediately that her voice has changed; colder, rougher, and hoarser probably from the number of times she's had to shout out her companions. you snap out of your daze, muttering an apology to yourself underneath before stepping aside and letting billie pass, then closing the door behind her.

big boots clang on the floor as she takes a few steps and places the heavy bag of belongings on the wooden floor. her gait has changed too; it has become heavier, weightier, her posture is perfect.

but as soon as she inhales the smell of her home, you can see her shoulders relax and a sigh of relief escapes her plump lips. you still stand by the doorway, looking at your wife with tears pinching your eyes. as if sensing this, billie finally turns around, looking at you, seemingly without a single emotion on her stern face.

"baby…" as soon as the word escapes her lips, you cover your face with your hands, trying to suppress the sobs sitting in your chest. you missed her so much, but now that she's a few meters away from you? you're still left with the same nasty feeling that you're thousands of light years apart.

you can hear how hard she's sighing. not out of annoyance, but out of fear. what if you pushed her away and told her to get the hell out of this house? she was afraid.

"please say something" she takes a hesitant step forward and you can feel her perfume, no, her cologne hit your nose. it was intoxicating.

the silence between you stretches for an eternity before you can speak.

"i thought i'd never see you again" you confess, finally removing your hands from your face to meet her intense gaze filled with longing, regret and melancholy. you didn't need to speak, you just read each other's eyes.

she moves closer to you again until she's close enough for your body to be caged between her body and the wall. a forgotten but so familiar warmth spreads through your veins, making your heart beat again, beat for her.

it's only now that you realize how much she's changed. her hair is cut short, but it still reaches to her shoulder blades. her body has grown larger, even in her military uniform you can see how tight the fabric is around her biceps in some places. the veins in her neck are more prominent, her freckles are clearly bigger, her palms are covered in calluses. you feel it when her hands gently touch your cheeks, gently holding your face.

"i'm so sorry, my love" her nose scratches yours in an affectionate touch, letting you feel each other's breaths on your lips. there was so much you wanted to say, but right now those words were enough to make you remember what it was like to feel loved and desired by a woman again.

"i wanna kiss you so badly" billie whispers as her lips hover millimeters from yours. "i beg you."

you give in forward, finally forcing your lips to touch in a languid long kiss. your hands travel up her body, first clutching her shoulders, then wrapping around her neck, scratching her scalp as you pull her head closer to you. her fingers clutching your waist move further to wrap their arms around your waist, tightly, forcing your body against hers. you let out a quiet whimper against her lips as your bodies sink into each other, being as close as seems impossible.

"god, i missed you so much," she moans against your lips, making you clutch harder into her hair. you're lost in each other until there's not a drop of oxygen left in your lungs. you try to pull away to take a single breath, but billie bites your bottom lip, not letting you move an inch away. when she said she missed you, she meant it; not a day, hour, or minute went by that she didn't think of you, or hum to her companions about what a wonderful wife she had. and she never forgot to mention that you gave her a daughter. the most beautiful, beautiful little girl.

"so you're like a milf?" one of the men suddenly asks billye, distracting her from ranting about you. she smiles, running her tongue over her white teeth. "yeah, i'm a mom" she says proudly, popping the last piece of saltless boiled beef into her mouth; it tasted lame, but she didn't have much choice.

"wife was pregnant? bet she's not that hot anymore" the other man's comment, although joking, billye never, absolutely never let anyone insult you in any form. "shut up, asshole, you're talking about my wife" she leans closer, a mischievous smile playing on her face "and man, she looks like an angel—no, like a goddess. every damn day" she made it clear to everyone without exception how proud she was to have you.

"billie…" her name coming off your lips in a way that made her feel like a moan was about to escape her throat. it was unbearable thinking about you every night, breathing heavily and dreaming of your touch as her hand snaked under the elastic band of her boxers.

as soon as your lips separate, you rest your cheek on her chest as her face burrows into the corner between your neck and shoulder. wet lips touch delicate skin, weightlessly at first, but then it transitions to a trail of kisses down from your jaw to your collarbones. billie's body immediately tenses as she hears a strange man calling your name in her house.

"uh—oh…" alex sighs as he catches the picture in front of him. you'd have to be a fool not to realize what's going on here.

billie frowns, removing her hands from your body to turn to face him, her back almost completely covering your more frail figure. her arms cross over her chest, and you can both notice alex's gaze lowering to her arms. to where her uniform is stretched tightly around her biceps.

"and who are you?" billie asks sternly, and you almost can't understand how she went from loving wife to company commander in a matter of seconds. sexy but amazing.

realizing that alex is a little scared, you step forward to introduce them to each other. "billie, this is alex. my… friend. he's helping me with lily—"

"helped" she snaps, and you both look at her in bewilderment. "what do you mean?" you ask quietly, trying not to stoke the fire further.

"he helped you with lily, and now.." she pauses, opening the front door and clearly showing the man that it's time for him to go home. "we don't need your help anymore."

your mouth opens in silent protest, your gaze running between an equally stunned alex and your obviously disgruntled wife. blinking a few times, you grab billye's hand, not hard, but you need her to pay attention to you "you can't kick him out! most of his stuff—" but billie doesn't listen, only boils harder.

"oh, you don't think i can kick him out?" the question sounds like a challenge, and you know better that she very well could kick him out of your house like a yard dog. your eyes narrow as you look at her, realizing that you have nothing to fight back so he can stay.

about a minute passes in silence between the three of you until alex coughs, realizing how much tension is in the air and that he is clearly interrupting something. and he was very reluctant to leave your house with billie's help.

"you know babe, i think i'm gonna go home" he calls you 'babe' on purpose, and before either of you can process it, he's lurking behind the threshold, closing the massive wooden door behind him on his own.

billie's mouth is ajar as she looks up at you. "baby? did he fucking call you baby?" and before her hand reaches for the doorknob, you intercept it, trying to pull her to you, but it's a harder task considering she's standing still like a goddamn rock. you swallow. not a single one of her muscles tensed.

"just leave him alone!" you have to raise your voice, just slightly, so as not to wake your daughter sleeping on the second floor. billie's fatigue is mixed with frustration and anger at the situation at hand, and she has no choice but to push you against the wall with one hand, causing your back to bang against the ceramic brick. not hard, but enough to assert her dominance at this point.

"let me get one thing straight, princess" she places her hands on either side of your head, enclosing you in a makeshift cage. not that you're trying very hard to get out. "you. are. mine" her voice drips with possessiveness, so sweet and long awaited, making your thighs press against each other slightly harder. "you're my wife, my woman, you're the mother of my child" her intense gaze never leaves your eyes, making your lips flush and your pupils dilate with arousal. the way she said those words with confidence and authority, fuck, it was too much for you and your poor pussy.

"and when i go back to my wife after a year of separation, baby, i don't want to hear a word against mine" and as manipulative as those words sound, you only nod slowly, causing a satisfied smile to slowly spread across her face. predator. "that's my good girl."

a whisper is heard right at your ear, and you let the first whimper slip through your lips. this is exactly what billie wanted. to see his sweet little wife again, looking at her like she was the whole world.

"fuck" she exhales heavily, not wasting another moment and lifting you in her arms as if you weigh nothing. your stomach collides with her shoulder as she takes a measured stride towards your bedroom, shamelessly groping your bare thighs. the silk robe and short pajama shorts didn't help in any way, only encouraging your wife to continue spreading her arms.

once you're on the second floor, billie's footsteps become slower and quieter so that the baby in the next room definitely won't hear how much her mommies missed each other. the thought of having to be quiet sent a wave of frustration through your body.

as soon as your back hits the soft mattress, you relax, letting billie hover over your body, leaving soft, then more passionate kisses until her teeth begin to embed themselves in your skin. dark trails blanket your neck and collarbones. you moan in quiet, sweet, unison. she from the bliss of your taste, you from the feel of her tongue on your pulse point. there was nothing you could ever miss.

"you're like a damn drug, baby" she mooed, moving to rid your body of the extra clothing. in a minute you were completely naked, completely for her hungry gaze while she was fully clothed. you embarrassedly tried to cover your breasts with your hands, but she immediately grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. her one hand was enough to hold both of yours. even if you did try to escape, you wouldn't stand a chance.

"don't make me tie this lovely body up, yeah mamas? you'll be my good girl, won't you?" your body wriggles, your hips rising desperately, wanting to feel even the slightest friction. billie sees it. of course she fucking does. her uniformed body moves closer to you until her knee presses against your bare pussy, which immediately drenches it with your arousal. you try to rub against her, but she lowers her hand, holding your thigh tightly. "answer the question, then you can ride my thigh like the desperate slut you are."

you whined again, again because of how sexy her voice dropped when she talked to you like that. as if you were her goddess and nothing more than a one-night stand. the way she skillfully did it made your legs shake in ecstasy.

"i'll be your good girl, i promise.." you whisper, swallowing hard, knowing she's waiting for the cherished word. "..daddy."

in that same second, your bodies flip so that you find yourself on all fours, supporting your weight on your elbows. billie steps back, starting to fumble through a box lying in the bottom drawer of the dresser. her hands work on the heavy belt buckle, then the zipper of her pants. she doesn't bother to pull down her boxers, attaching the strap right over the thin fabric.

"don't even need lube to stretch this cunt" you feel the tip of her cock graze over your ass, teasing. your arousal started to flow down the inside of your thighs, so she really didn't have to use anything else to slowly plunge the thick nine inches into your tight pussy. "so perfect around my cock."

waiting for your permission, she begins thrusting, slowly at first, watching her length disappear into you, then thrusting sharply into you until she establishes a steady fast rhythm, making sure that with each thrust she enters all the way that she reaches your cervix, causing you to lower your head and bite the sheets to at least somewhat contain the dirty sounds that fly off your lips.

"fuck, so noisy" her left hand goes up to your neck, squeezing and pulling back until your back arches perfectly for her, until you're fully seated on her lap, feeling her cock get in even deeper. her fingers are replaced by her hand, her biceps and brachialis muscle straining around your throat, leaving little room for oxygen to enter. "feel how deep i am, baby? gonna put another baby in you."

her hips moving at an inhuman pace, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. you really had no idea how much more a year in combat had worn down her body, making it steel. but right now all you had in your mind was her cock, buried as deep as it had ever been before.

"will you give me another baby, mama?" she asks, but the question seems rhetorical, given that your mind is completely blank. the way her hand presses against your thigh, leaving bruises under your fingertips. the way her lips hover over your ear, the way her grip on your neck tightens every time she tenses her bicep. it's made your smart head a dumb mess. "can you carry my baby in this perfect body again?"

tears run down your cheeks as you whimper something resembling a 'yes', clutching her hand tightly, resting your head on her shoulder, starting to bounce on her cock on your own as she clutches your body tightly, feeling every shudder. she always knows when you're close.

"come on, my love, cum for me. cum on this cock" her words act as a lever for your body and you unravel on her strap, making no extra sounds only thanks to her other hand covering your mouth as you shake hysterically, stunned by the intense orgasm.

billie slowly lowers you down, back on all fours, her chest pressed against your back as you feel her warm cum filling your pussy, dripping onto the crumpled sheets. your body already seems exhausted while your wife's energy still boils.

"lie on your back, mama, let me see that pretty pussy" she mumbles in your ear, pulling back and slowly pulling out, mesmerized by the way her cum leaks out of you. you move on the bed barely trusting your cotton-wool legs, slowly lowering yourself onto your back, immediately spreading your legs slightly, inviting her in. billie hesitates, positioning herself between your thighs, using both hands to spread them wider, shamelessly gazing at your swollen cunt, covered in her and your own arousal.

she dives in without another word, moaning hoarsely when she feels your sweet taste on her tongue again after all this time, ready to devour you like a starving woman. "fuck, so fucking perfect" she moozes into your flesh, sending electrifying vibrations that make you squirm on the bed, now covering your mouth with your own hand.

"i'd burn the whole world for that pussy, do you hear me?" she pulls back, replacing her tongue with her thumb, rubbing your sensitive clit in slow circles, but it's enough to make your legs shake and your hips rise in search of more friction.

billie bites her lower lip, lifting and pressing your knees against your chest to change the angle, watching your frowning eyebrows for a few more seconds before returning her mouth to your wet folds, licking greedily, plunging the tip into your tight hole, making you shriek, which only encouraged her to push it in deeper.

her tongue worked tirelessly, flattening out in time, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as her two fingers slipped into you, pumping at a natural pace as if they were designed to fuck that perfect pussy.

she pushed so deep, curling her thick fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. she didn't ask — you didn't speak, coming on her tongue and hand with a strangled moan. her hips flew up, pushing her face further between your legs, and you couldn't hold back a whimper, realizing how sensitive you were right now.

"mm, just like that, that's my girl" she praises, crawling up to hover over your body and leave a deep kiss on your lips, letting. you taste your own release.

after a few seconds she rolls onto the bed next to you, not taking her lips off your neck. "i wanna see our daughter," her melodic voice is muffled against your skin, and you giggle, starting to replay the shared memories in your head until she interrupts them with another nibble on your pulse point.

"and then i wanna fuck that pretty pussy of yours again. and i'm gonna do it every goddamn day, my love."

౨ৎ tags; @billiesbabygirll, @amara-eilish, @st0nerlesb0, @bxllxebxtch mystiquemm, @bilswifee, @dragoneyelashart, @bilssturns, @chrissv4mp, @allyeilishh, @bitchesbrokenpromises, @too-sapphic-to-function, @thefeverburningalive, @peytonglazesbillieeilish, @1nn3rthOughts

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acid-ixx · 7 months ago

Note

I feel like they are the type of mf to stalk you in game bruh.

Like imagine Tim playing dress to impress just to vote you a 5 star no matter if your fits are trash lol. (Hell all of them might do it)

Or maybe your playing some sort of RPG game, and you said to your in game friends about how you wanted a skin and BOOM you immediately got it first try when you gacha lol. (Tim)

— masterlist !

as much as i love writing yandere angst, i always border on the softer spectrum of it, so when it comes to interpreting your life post-kidnapping: i'll say that the family is a bit more lenient (as if it's enough to make you feel a semblance of freedom) to you when it comes to pastimes like gaming as long as you're always being monitored, especially in online games...

that translates to you being stalked at every opportunity every time you use your bugged phone...

they're always breathing down your neck, so you think you have privacy even when playing alone? when heaven forbid the surrounding cameras all over your room, all set-up by tim and his invasive ass, just so he could have constant surveillance over every movement or hobby of yours?

there's eyes on you all the time, but you'd never expect that it's to the point that they'll join all the games you play if it means spending some "bonding" time with you whenever you push them away from physically being in the same room as you.

so if it means playing lousy obbies in roblox, or even "girly" games like dress to impress, for hours, then they'll join you without moment's hesitation. you'll be shocked at just how well tim and damian style their clothes, but nobody's beating steph and cass at their game. and despite you feeling down in the dumps at the times you feel inferior towards them and their expertise, or just how well each of them communicating with each other, and you, feeling out of place everytime.

it's an undeniable fact that it's you always winning and ranking first place.

they'll always lower themselves, or won't even try so you'd always be in the spotlight even if you ask them to play fairly.

oh, by the way, never ask any one of them to duo with you. they automatically see it as you crowning one of them as your favorite— you don't want to see another fight ensue just because you voted one of their fits better than the other.

you could be shit at the obbies, constantly missing your jumps and close to snapping your device in half— then suddenly you have the game passes to skip certain levels. suddenly, you have an entire cheer team waiting with baited breaths every time you finish a jump, only to cheer and celebrate once you finish a particularly hard level.

oh, you're in a shitty dress to impress server with unfair voting? don't worry, barbara's faster behind the scenes, finding pro servers for you to join in. the entire family's already at your beck and call (even if you've never asked them in the first place) every time you mouth a complaint, each statement of yours taken more seriously than the missions they have every night as vigilantes.

and once bruce catches the news that you want robux just to buy the VIP and custom makeup game pass for dress to impress, or literally any games? god, he's like your mr. salt to you, his sweet veruca, willing to buy the entire game, hell, even the gaming companies you play on.

just, you know, if you don't want them showing their affection directly, then they'll do so by servicing you through the games you play.

any game currency is immediately bought by bruce, all transferred to your account, no matter how expensive it is because he sees it's what makes you happy, watching you burn off all the money on your avatar's design, or certain gacha characters you're fond of, with your eyes staring at the screen in awe with no worries about becoming broke.

it just makes him want to... hold you like you're a little kid spoiled by their father who loves them so much, who should've loved them from the start.

your siblings have an unspoken competition on who could grind on your account the most while you're afk, just so they could see your meek smile plastered on your adorable face seeing that you have the proper resources on your inventory.

you know, it makes them feel useful to you. it makes dick feel like the dependable older brother who's the first one you approach whenever you need him to play for you whilst you go to the bathroom. tim even learns every game mechanic in parkour games so he could assist you during the moments you struggle.

as cute as you are on his computer screen in one of the cameras surveying your room, pouting as you look at the screen at another failed level, tim wants to be as every bit your favorite, the guy you see as the geeky nerd in the family so he'll be the only one you approach to help you out (you don't even have to ask him, his eyes are always on you).

jason's good at point and shoot games, he gives you oddly realistic tips too so you could aim right at players and eventually secure your spot. it makes him huff with joy whenever you win competitive games 'cause you always jump and cheer, forgetting the boundaries you've set with personal space, just to thank him with a hug and your rare grins that feeds the greedy parts of him only wanting to see your smile all for himself.

so, really, everything's fine with them, as long as it doesn't disrupt your quality time with your family in real time and you don't hurt yourself over losing that they're happy you're enjoying. as long as you're not pushing them away and not-so eagerly accepting their online presence, then maybe you could find an actual routine to enjoy every time you open your phone to play a game.

maybe you'll learn to smile or laugh with them too when you're all in the same room playing together.

maybe, just maybe.

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existence-is-a-pain87 · 1 month ago

Text

Forsaken Isekai AU be like:

With Eyes I See...

Yandere!Forsaken x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors; cults; kidnapping; gore; blood; swearing; dark topics; some more... adult implications (YIPPEE FOR WRITING EXPERIMENTATION. However, young folk please beware, it's not explicit but it's definitely more adult than most things ya should be reading)

Note: This starts off as chill and gets dark in several parts, especially towards the ending. This is a part one in a three part story. Please enjoy

--☆☆☆☆☆--

You don't recall exactly how you died. All you know is you did.

But as you slowly come too, your mind is frazzled with your memories... and someone elses.

Who are you?

Are you two people?

You know so much and yet so little. You don't know what you are.

But one set of memories is clearer. One you feel much more familiar with.

That is you. It has to be.

It must be. You don't know who you'd be if you aren't.

Wherever you are, it's cold. But you sit up, shivering slightly as you realize you're, unfortunately, naked.

What even happened? Did you get assulted? Did you...

No. You don't want to think of what possibly happened.

Looking around this room, it's... weird. Clinical and cold, scientific and empty.

Almost like... a morgue.

You look over at the man talking into a phone, something about "an easy job and then he's done for the day". But when he turns around? When he sees you sitting up, shielding your more private parts with your limbs? When you two lock eyes?

He drops the phone and screams.

You scream too.

...

You were pronounced dead an hour ago. Your heart having stopped for a long, long period of time.

You should've been dead. There was no good reason you were alive.

But you were. You were a miracle.

You were now in the hospital, thankfully wearing some scrubs to shield your body and kept in a bed as doctors kept poking and prodding you, astounded how you were alive.

Eventually, though, they pronounced you as stable and allowed visitors. You were told to stay at the hospital for a few days as they made sure your condition remained the way it was.

You had no idea how you were alive. But this was your body. It looked just like you and had your exact name. And you ignored the less familiar memories, thinking that your brain damage just added those memories into your skull.

But as the door to the room you were staying in slammed open, and two loud people almost stormed in, being told to quiet down almost immediately by the doctors.

...

You don't know these people.

--☆☆☆--

You knew their names. How did you know their names?

The one who was clearly worried was Noob. The one who seemed a little more frustrated was Guest 666.

...those unfamilar memories were real.

You wormed into someone else's life. You replaced them.

You're a parasite.

"-kay?!"

You flinch as you hear what they're saying and the ringing stops.

"Jeez [Y/N], listen to us!" Guest 666 snaps at you, grimacing, "Are you okay?! How are you even-?!"

You just stare, processing as Noob quickly hugs you.

"Please let this be real," They beg you, "Please don't let this be some cruel joke. Please be okay... please..."

You have memories of them. Being best friends.

Those memories aren't yours.

You just hesitantly hug them back, somehow knowing them perfectly while not knowing them at all.

"It's not," Your voice sounding like both your own and someone else's, "I'm really here."

Noob just sobs a bit, and Guest 666 tears up and hugs you too.

As the doctors tell them to give you space, as they just cry in your arms, as tears silently drip from your eyes...

You feel horrible. You feel like trash. Living, breathing trash.

You replaced these two's friend.

But worse of all, you're somehow in the Forsaken universe. How? And clearly it's not in the present time if Guest 666 and Noob are still friends.

You just sit there, mind reeling, ignoring all the doctors.

Even the one staring at you like you're an angel that just stepped out of heaven's gates and onto the Earth.

--☆☆☆--

"Are you sure you'll be fine on your own?" 666 asks you, looking worried as they and Noob help you get settled in "your" apartment after getting out of the hospital. "You could always stay at my place. You know I'm fine with that."

"But I'll be okay." You gently reply, "I've always been okay on my own."

"Being on your own lead to you being hit by a car." They retort, "Seriously, you should-"

"That was a one time thing that won't happen again," You say, "Seriously, you and Noob have done so much already. I'll be good for now."

"Can we at least come back and check on you tomorrow?" Noob asks, frowning, "Please?"

"Of course," You say with a smile, "You two are always welcome to come by. I promise to stay safe."

Then you usher them out, smiling.

That smile is gone the moment the door shuts.

Your legs buckle, your eyes sting, and your breath quakes. Your very being shakes as the weight of what happened fully crashes down on you.

You replaced someone. Someone who had a life, friends, family. Their memories implanted in your skull but none of the emotion, all their skills but none of the effort.

You died, died with all your memories, and became someone new. Someone who already had a life.

Surely someone would notice. Would they be mad? What would happen to you?

There was never much info on the past of Forsaken beyond the characters. You barely grasped how this world worked beyond the memories.

All you do for a while is cry, trying to keep yourself quiet.

Then you try to get used to this place. Something that feels familiar and new. Strange and home.

You don't like the feeling you have.

Food is in the fridge. Food you recall buying or making, but also is entirely unfamilar. Some food you don't even like.

Your room is filled with all sorts of things. Things you remember getting but at the same time have never seen before.

Photos of who this person was are on some of the walls.

You took them down and buried them in a box.

You don't eat that night. Merely drink some water and sleep on the couch.

You can't bring yourself to sleep in this bed that belonged to someone else. Someone who you stole the life of.

When you wake up the next morning, you've long since lost hope of this being some horrible dream. You just shower, try to eat, and eventually vomit.

You don't like how food tastes different now. It all tastes different.

You hate it you hate it you hate it you hate it you

You need to find familiarity in this. Make sense of this madness.

You can't change the fact you replaced someone. The least you could do is continue their life for them.

What else could you really do?

You stared outside, taking in the rain pouring from the sky for a solid ten minutes before grabbing an umbrella and going outside.

The rain feels like the sky's tears. It feels like your own tears too, in a way.

You had to get the mail. Because it apparently got delivered around this time.

It was part of this person's usual routine. Get the mail, and then get the milk.

You've never met anyone who has their milk delivered to them like this is a cartoon. Guess that's part of your life now.

As you roam past the other apartments and grab the mail, nothing happens. But heading back?

As the rain pours off the umbrella, you carry the mail on the under your arm. But you pause when you pass an alley and hear a squeak.

You hesitate, but enter the alley, wandering about until you pass a squeaking, soaking wet cardboard box.

You peer inside, and see a chubby white rabbit having shoved itself into the dryest corner of the box.

...

You took the rabbit home with you, using an empty milk carton filled with towels as a makeshift bed for the rabbit to sleep in.

You gave him a bowl of water and some rabbit-safe greens you had in your house as food.

What? Maybe you could have a pet rabbit. Or at least keep him safe and dry until the rain stopped.

You also decided to call him Gubby because he looked like that special little rabbit. And because he seemed to understand human language when you spoke to him and he'd listen.

Weirdly smart little rabbit... who are you to judge?

You almost forgot you told Noob and 666 they could come over today. They come over surprisingly early too, at like 11 in the morning.

When they saw Gubby, they had two different reactions. But, ultimately, both approved of the idea of you getting a pet. Even though 666 did voice that if you wanted companionship, you could just come and live with them.

You noticed how these two were... incredibly clingy.

You managed to ignore it, though. They weren't forcing you anyways. Hell, they even helped you go out to buy supplies for Gubby since you were gonna have a pet rabbit now.

All that would change is a pet fee and some more money spend on Gubby, but you didn't care. You just would need another spare job.

You could find one if you looked.

--☆☆☆--

You decided to take a babysitting job. You were surprised by the lack of information the person hiring you gave, but it was close to your own house, and you could flee if something bad happened. Hell, it didn't even matter that it was on the more questionable side of town since that was where you lived.

You were very surprised when 007n7 of all people opened the door, but ya probably should've pieced it together when he kept asking if you were someone quick to judge over the text messages you two shared.

It was a bit awkward, but he seemed surprisingly desperate to get someone to watch his kid since he had to go to work and couldn't leave his child alone, and was relieved when you agreed. c00lkidd didn't think much of you, but clearly didn't like 007n7 leaving him with a stranger.

But you were patient. And you took the kid to a restaurant you- or at least the person you replaced- had been going to since you were a young kid. A Japanese restaurant, to be precise. One you're so familiar with that the older couple running it taught you enough Japanese you're fluent now.

Honestly, you did not know that before you, c00lkidd never had Japanese food before. You also didn't know how much the kid would adore that stuff.

Yeah, he quickly decided you were super cool and wanted you to come back and be his babysitter all the time.

It became a steady side gig, and it was fun to hang out with c00lkidd. Plus, even if you didn't see 007n7 as much as you saw his son, 007n7 was always very nice to you.

That night, when you were leaving from babysitting c00lkidd for the first time, the conversation you and 007n7 had was something you thought back to often.

---

"..." 007n7 and you stood on the porch, awkward silence between you two for the few moments after he had paid you, before he uttered a sheepish, "Thank you for... not leaving."

"Hm?" You tilt your head, "What'dya mean?"

"Well... everyone else I hired left pretty quickly after recognizing me or seeing c00lkidd," He admits, rubbing the back of his head, "You're the first one who didn't leave. I'd- uh- really like if you'd be willing to come back."

007n7 looked over towards the front door of his house, before looking back at you.

"c00lkidd would like that too."

"...I'd love to come back."

---

You didn't mind having babysitting as a side gig.

Anyways, it didn't interfere with your job at Builder Brothers pizza, after all.

--☆☆☆--

Your job involved boxing pizzas or helping in the kitchen, depending on what was needed. Occasionally helping out front if someone was out sick and someone else was needed elsewhere.

Due to this, you rarely interacted with Elliot. You two were friendly, yes, but not friends.

He did greet you when you came back to work and made sure you were okay after coming out of the hospital. Then again, everyone who worked there did.

It was surprising how everyone was kinda friendly at this job. It was almost like that major corporations liked to claim they had back home. But here it was genuine in this small but popular pizza place.

This job was never at the front of your mind, though. There were very few moments from after you replaced this person that stuck in your head, loud and clear.

Still though, there were some. Namely as you kept accidentally becoming friends with Elliot, and when you met Jane and John Doe when you were helping out front and they low-key flirted with you.

It was a weird experience, but not as weird as the time Elliot invited you out to lunch and two people kept watching you through. One guy wearing a witch hat and the other someone with messy hair.

It wasn't hard to miss the fact that this was Azure and Two Time in the past. And you did not like the weird interest the two had in you.

You were so focused on this you barely noticed that this lunch was more like a date with Elliot rather than anything.

You barely noticed how more and more people seemed to be flirting with you.

--☆☆☆--

You met Chance when you were at this little family own pet store and buying things for Gubby.

You brought Gubby with you in a little cat backpack you repurposed for him after he seemed to want to spend more time around you.

The man saw your rabbit, and immediately started fawning over the little guy, asking you if he could hold him. That led the two of you in a long conversation, which somehow spilled into you two exchanging phone numbers.

Eventually though iTrapped (you hate that motherfucker, he can go DIE-) came along and dragged off Chance, who almost immediately started sending you rabbit pictures.

How funny was it that you ran into John and Jane again. And seeing them as a happy married couple while knowing what was going to happen...

It hurt. It really, really hurt.

But you remained kind. And they were even more kind.

You still don't know how it spiraled into... this though.

Apparently they wanted to experiment with their relationship a bit. They picked you.

And god, was their experimentation more wild than anything you'd ever experienced before the life you had now.

Laying in that bed after all that, your breath was still shaky. You barely processed how you were convinced to do all that.

Glancing over, you saw the two cuddling. It was a cute sight, but it made you feel slightly out of place.

You just cautiously got out of bed, moving as quietly as you can as you walk across the dark room to gather your clothes.

"Where are you going?"

Jane's voice makes you flinch, and you look back to see both of them looking at you, a mix of confused and amused.

"Uh- going home..?" You hesitantly reply, uncertain of what exactly these two wanted now.

"Really? It's awfully late, you know." John muses, "Come on. C'mere."

You stand still, staring at the two, uncertain.

"Come here." Jane tells you, beckoning you over.

You slowly lower your clothes and approach, hesitating before the two pull you in between them, practically forcing you to join in on the cuddles these two were having.

You were already squished between them once, but this is different. This is warm and cozy, and it is weirdly... loving. Tender. Comforting.

Why are they doing this?

"Because you need it." John murmurs, pressing his head to your neck.

You didn't even realize you uttered that thought aloud.

"Don't worry, just sleep. You can worry about everything in the morning," Jane gently tells you, "Take this break you deserve."

Break?

...you've been worrying, trying to play up a mask and act as if you never replaced someone who had a life.

You're a broken mess who's had no time to truly process. To truly heal.

So you relish in this break. In this warm and welcoming love.

It feels so nice you nearly forget how these people barely know you.

...

You made sure that it was just a one time thing.

--☆☆☆--

It was twelve days after when your home was broken into.

Jolting awake in the middle of the night as you hear a window shatter, you hear Gubby squeak and peer out of his bed.

You shake slightly, before getting out of bed and slowly dialing for the police to come as you hear your apartment- your home- being trashed.

You grab a baseball bat, a metal one, the one before you bought for self-defense, knowing this can be a dangerous area to live in.

But this? This doesn't feel like your usual robbery.

You gently hide Gubby under the bed, and stand behind the door with bated breath, knowing very well it was a matter of time until whoever was out there came in here.

The moment the door opened, you swung. You didn't manage to hit the guy in the head, but you got his shoulder as he hissed in pain and swung a punch you took to the gut.

It was a fight you didn't win as you stumbled back and he called out to others that he had "found the target". More filled in, and demaned payment.

You were clueless, as neither you nor the previous you got any debts. It didn't stop them though.

They beat you to a bloody pulp. You heard and felt them breaking your bones. Your lungs screamed with each breath you took. Your head ached as you were wacked around.

When they finally left alone, hearing their "boss" come in, you acted. Dragging yourself across the floor, fumbling and grabbing your phone and Gubby, before clambering out of the window and tumbling into the bushes.

You hid in there for a long moment, keeping your hand over your mouth as you desperately tried to hide from these... mafia members.

You heard muffled yelling, and thumps, and eventually, it all went quiet. Well, almost. You heard the yelling stop and immediately fled.

You managed to get to 007n7's house and bang on the door, and he gets you inside before you pass out.

You spend a good long while in the hospital. When you're finally let out, you stay at 666's and Noob's place due to their insistence.

They already seemed upset enough you didn't call them until after you were in the hospital and went to 007n7's home, but calmed down when you pointed out that his house was just close to your own apartment and thus was the best place to run to.

Everyone you knew, when they heard about what happened, tweaked out, to put it lightly.

And now, with more friends, meant many more visitors at the hospital and gifts being sent to you.

It felt like a lot.

It was a lot.

But you didn't voice any of this.

--☆☆☆--

You met Two Time and Azure on your way out of work after you recovered.

The two approached you first, and were very friendly.

You noted how they wore little to no things relating to the Spawn. Which made sense, because you figured that the cult leaders didn't want the world to notice and put an end to it all.

But, knowing what you know, you were reasonably hesitant when they talked with you.

But they heard the news stories, and just wanted to be kind. Or at least, that's what they said.

You talked with them, and they kept trying to worm their ways into your life. And eventually you gave way and let them in.

You just hope they'd do no evil. Do nothing morally wrong to you.

And you really hope they didn't think you were special in a devine way...

--☆☆☆--

You met Chance again shortly after this. Well, not shortly. More like a week.

It was at that same pet store you met him the first time. He quite literally asked to meet you there over text.

And when you arrived, he was standing out by the front, almost nervously fussing with their fedora.

When you called out, they flinched and looked over, glasses askew as they cleared their throat.

"Oh, hey! Funny to see you here!"

"...didn't you invite me here?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh- yeah- haha..." He rubs the back of his neck, looking nervous. "...I- uh- have something to ask you."

You tilted your head, wating for Chance to finish.

"So... uh... are you single?" He asks, "And if you are... you wanna go out sometime?"

You hesitate. You already had romantic tension with a lot of people. But this was the first date you've been genuinely asked on.

At least one you noticed was a date.

Chance seems to notice your hesitation. "I mean- no pressure or anything! If ya don't wanna go out, you don't need'ta-"

"I'd love to."

"Wait, really?" Their eyes widen, and he can't hide his grin. "Like- seriously?"

"I'd love to go on a date with you." You say with a smile.

"Really?!" Chance is clearly thrilled, "Uh- how about coffee sometime?"

"Sure. When?"

"Uh... now? Does now work?"

You blink, bemused. "You're lucky I don't have work today and don't need to babysit until tonight. Yeah, now works."

And then you went on that date. Not noticing how when you passed people familiar to you, the jealous looks that were sent Chance's way.

You never noticed how everyone was getting more and more obsessed with you.

--☆☆☆--

When you were babysitting c00lkidd later that week, you were chilling on the couch as the kid was fussing with LEGOs on the ground.

"...are you my parent now?"

You pause at the kid's words, looking over in surprise.

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Well," He sets down his LEGOs, "You're here all the time. You take care of me as much as dad does now. So are you my parent?"

"I mean, I guess if ya want that," You remark, not seeing the harm in it, "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm one of your parents in a way."

"Are you my mom or a second dad?"

You hesitate, thinking about it. "...uh... what would you want?"

"I want you as my mom." c00lkidd quickly decides, "Because that way I'd finally have something to do on Mother's Day and talk about how cool my mom is."

You smile. "That's nice, kiddo."

You look back at the book you were reading as c00lkidd talks again.

"You should date my dad."

You choke on your spit as he continues.

"No, you should marry my dad! That way you can be always here and no one could say you aren't my mom!"

"Th- that's not how it works-" You stutter out, sheepish. "I don't need to-"

"C'mon, please?" c00lkidd begs you, "Dad loves you y'know! He keeps talking about how amazing you are! He'd love to date you!"

"Kid- I-" You panic, before coming up with a reasonable excuse, "I already have a boyfriend!"

"..." c00lkidd silently stares at you, "...you do?"

"Yeah, I do." You nod, "His name is Chance. He's wonderful."

c00lkidd frowns, before standing up and walking out of the room, saying "bathroom" as he goes.

You sit there for a moment, before pulling out your phone frantically texting Chance that you two are an official couple now.

You set down your phone and flinched when it blew up with Chance being super excited.

You felt a bit bad, but you did genuinely love Chance.

Anyways, maybe like this, it'll get rid of any relationship drama that will come up in the future.

Oh, how wrong you were...

--☆☆☆--

Shit seemed to go down in a lot of ways after you and Chance became a public couple.

He was honestly over the moon, and you didn't realize just how much of a sweetheart this man was. Sure, he could be lazy and unmotivated, and a real risk-taker, but he adored you and was wonderful to be around.

John and Jane politely congratulated you, but didn't really communicate you much afterwards outside of simple and polite conversation. Though they did pose the offer of double dates a few times.

Elliot seemed to cease almost all conversation with you, being more blunt than before. He also rarely spoke to you now. It was... awkward, to say the least.

007n7 was very, very awkward around you now, and seemed almost... sad. Meanwhile, c00lkidd kept trying to get you to break up with Chance. It was awkward, but you didn't see 007n7 too much and could usually distract c00lkidd from the topic of your love life.

Noob and 666 were pissed, to put it lightly. There was a lot of arguing between you and 666 as the two seemed hellbent on getting you out of any romantic relationships. Noob just seemed more miserable and anxious rather than angry at you, though.

Gubby didn't care and honestly liked Chance.

Two Time and Azure seemed... to try and worm their way in your life more. And it worked.

...

Oh god, you regretted letting them in your life.

--☆☆☆--

You were inside your home, having moved back into your apartment at this point, when the Spawn cult broke in.

They came for you, for a reason you didn't know at the time.

You fought them. You fought them like hell as you desperately tried to get them out.

You didn't succeed.

---

The bat was loose in your hands, your legs shaking violently as you kept trying to get these cultists away.

Gubby scampered out from under the couch and bit one in the leg. She screamed in pain and kicked Gubby across the room.

Unphased, the rabbit immediately hopped back onto his feet and launched himself at your assailants.

But the woman he bit pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the side.

He screamed in pain as he crumpled to the floor.

"GUBBY-!"

That was the only thing you screeched out as your guard lowered for a split second, and you desperately tried to save your rabbit.

You were overwhelmed.

---

They took you to where the cult resided. They kept you there, locked away.

They knew of your miracle. They believed you were some devine being with relations to the Spawn. They believed you were sent by the Spawn as a sign. A sign to worship and cherish you.

You hated it.

You hated them.

There were many escape attempts. You learned your surroundings, and began searching for a way out.

This was you best one so far. You were lost, yes, but knew you were closer to the exit. You had to be.

You were so close to freedom.

Days blurred when you were trapped here. You had no clue how long it had been.

But now you were noticed and being chased down. Thank god you had a head start.

But as you were pulled into a hallway, you squeaked and fought back as a hand covered your mouth.

"Shhh-" Azure whispered in your ear, "We're not going to capture you."

You freeze, recognizing Azure as you heard Two Time tell the others which way you "went" and how the others all ran off, before Two Time peered in.

"They're gone," They told you and Azure, "C'mon, we don't have much time."

You questioned why they were seemingly helping in your escape.

"You know we like you more than just as some... devine being." Azure told you.

"It's not hard to see you hate being caged, little bird." Two Time murmured in your ear, voice warm with tender affection you only seen them truly give Azure.

You hesitated, but followed. You decided to trust them. To give them a chance.

They knew this place better than you anyways.

...

They didn't lead you outside.

"...this isn't outside." You murmured as you were led into the very room you fled from, "Guys, we went the wrong w-"

You screeched as Two Time suddenly grabbed you, restraining you against their chest as you were helpless to fight back, to get them to let go.

"What are you doing?!" You asked, terror shaking each word, "Azure, Two Time- please-"

"No, shhhh..." Azure gently told you, placing a hand on your cheek as tears stained the flesh. "Don't cry, please. It's only going to make this harder."

"Little bird, no one wants you to go." Two Time said, resting his head against yours, "We're just going to remove your chance at escaping. We can't risk losing you."

"No- no-" You helplessly choked out that word, desperate despite knowing how hopeless this situation was for you.

"It's not going to hurt much." Azure hesitates, "...maybe it will. But at the very least, we promise you won't die."

"Please don't scream." Two Time told you, keeping you from fighting as Azure approached.

He placed both his hands on your cheeks.

"You have beautiful eyes."

And you screamed as they were torn from your head.

--☆☆☆--

Here's Part 2 to the series for yall (in case ya wanna see more)

#endri yaps #yandere forsaken x reader #yandere forsaken #roblox forsaken #forsaken #forsaken isekai au

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thekinslayed · 1 year ago

Text

Nobody Tell Daemon!

summary | When the family heirloom is nowhere to be found, you found yourself in the middle of the chaos in the Hightower-Targaryen siblings' apartment.

pairing | modern!aemond x gf!reader x platonic!targtower siblings (aegon, helaena, daeron)

tags | crack fic, mentions of sex, aegon is a sweaty liar, new girl-inspired, slightly succession-inspired, the targs hate each other but live in the same building

wordcount | 4.9k

note | my first attempt at a crack fic 😭 this was inspired by new girl s4ep6 'background check', which is my fav ep in my fav show! thought i’d write something fun this time bc i'm going to miss my chaotic little greenies <3

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated! (divider)

The warm tingle of the morning sun on your bare back made you purr like a cat, limbs stretching over the length on the queen-sized bed. Beside you, the light sprinkle of Aemond’s silver chest hair twinkled under the sunlight, ripples of defined muscle accentuated by the shadows cast. Underneath, his pale flesh had taken a pink hue after some of the strenuous activities you had partaken in when you awakened. On most days, your boyfriend would’ve sprung out of bed the moment the clock struck six thirty, but not today. After all, it was his day off.

And on his day off, Aemond took his time… in between your thighs.

Laying on your stomach, you settled your chin on your crossed arms to look at your lover. The giggle that bubbled from your lips as you stared into his peaceful face couldn’t be helped, prompting him to crack open his good eye to look at you in question, brow raised.

“That was some good stuff, wouldn’t you say?” you said, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. He merely huffed a chuckle, slim cheeks dimpling.

“Fuckin’ amazing, babe,” Aemond replied with a satisfied smile, turning on his side to grab your waist. You squealed in delight as he maneuvered you onto your back. Attacked by kisses, and tickled by the growing stubble on his chin, it had been a while since mornings were this peaceful.

“Why can’t we ever have mornings like this?” you asked rhetorically, ending with a dreamy sigh as his wandering lips found their home in yours. He grunted in agreement, hips canting towards yours to make known the growing zeal in between his legs, ever eager to make the most of your morning.

The answer came in the sight that greeted you the moment you left his room.

Tangled in a crumpled heap of silver hair on the floor, Aemond’s brothers, Aegon and Daeron, were wrestling for the remote.

“Oh, come on, Aeg! I need to catch up on my show!”

“Fuck off, Cocomelon, MILF Manor’s on!”

With a heavy sigh felt in the Seven Heavens, Aemond turned to you with a deadpan face. “This is why.”

The other side of the apartment was in no better shape. A stuffy cloud of greyish smoke enveloped the open kitchen. In the middle of it, Helaena was making breakfast. Flipping a more than well-done pancake, and scrambling a bowl of eggshell-dotted eggs, their sister was unbothered by the ruckus, merely humming to herself. You exchanged a look with Aemond, who nodded at you with a wordless instruction to take over.

“Morning, sweetie,” you greeted your dear friend, accepting the side hug she happily gave you. Peeking down at the ceramic pan, Aemond hid his grimace at the shape of the blobs of batter she was cooking up.

“Lookin’ good in here, Hel. Why don’t we lend you a hand?” he offered innocently, to which Helaena beamed up with glee.

“Would you mind flipping that when it’s ready, Aem? I need to go feed the babies for a sec!”

The moment Helaena turned to scurry off to tend to the numerous critters littered about in jars in her room, Aemond immediately tossed the blackened hotcake into the trash. It was somewhat impressive how his sister somehow managed to make it cling to a nonstick pan, but he dared not say anything. Meanwhile, you cracked some windows open to let some fresh air in, before rolling up the sleeves of Aemond’s old college hoodie to help out by cutting up some fruit.

Soon enough, all of you managed to find your respective places on the island and finally start eating. It was nice, save for the boys’ banter that managed to have its own seat at the table.

“They’re hooking up with guys my age and their dads?!” Daeron exclaimed, a mixture of awe and slight confusion on his young face at his eldest brother’s choice of morning entertainment.

“Yeah, bro, and you know what that’s called? Good. Fuckin’. TV. Not that lame superhero shit you’re always into,” Aegon retorted with a full mouth of food, specks of egg flying out of his mouth with every word. Even the ginormous mug engraved with the words ‘I <3 U WITH ALL MY B(.)(.)BS’ couldn’t hide the scowl of disgust on your boyfriend’s face as he sipped his coffee, the gaze on his good eye sharp on the two knobheads before him.

You tuned out Aemond’s scolding as you were deep into your own conversation with Helaena, who had a chirping cricket balanced on her shoulder. You made sure to keep your steaming cup of matcha away in case the critter had any plans of jumping off. You loved Hel, but gods, did those things make your skin crawl.

The sudden ding! from Aemond’s pocket cut through the chatter of the table. With his attention shifted to his phone, you stole some of his bacon, watching on in curiosity as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Daemon’s having the whole building inspected?” he announced, making everyone turn to him in attention.

“Did he fuck someone in the building who gave him crabs?” Aegon quipped in a matter all too nonchalant that everyone had turned to him with an incredulous look.

“No. Mum said Dad’s dagger he left for Daemon in the will isn’t in the penthouse anymore. Asshole’s bringing in KLPD’s ‘best’ or whatever the fuck, some guy called Jason Lannister’s going to be up here doing the search. The Lion,” Aemond read off the text on his phone, before shutting it off with a scoff of disbelief. He muttered a few curses for his uncle under his breath before a flicker of realization struck his face, turning to Aegon. “Did someone in this building give you crabs?”

“N-no? Just heard it from uh, uh… the doorman!”

“Aeg, you know you’re a terrible liar, right?” you mused, eyeing the way his pale cheeks had almost immediately turned red at the sudden inquisition. Aegon was a sweaty, anxious liar who spent his teenage years nearly wetting his pants before he could pull out his fake ID at a liquor store. Any more prodding and his gray t-shirt would have been marked with sweat stains.

“Ha, you guys think they call him The Lion because he’s ferocious, and feeds on crime and bad guys as grub? Man, that’s cool,” Daeron remarked, shaking his head with an innocent satisfaction for making such an observation. You turned to Helaena to giggle in amusement, but she was staring off to the side, biting her lip while deep in thought.

“The Lannisters are lions, Daeron. It’s their family sigil. You would know this if you didn’t spend all your time in middle school messing with your iPad with your snotty hands, you oaf,” Aemond retorted, making the youngest pout at the realization. You turned back to finishing your meal, paying Helaena no mind. It wasn’t uncommon to have her like this, often lost in her head that all of you knew to leave her alone until she was back to herself.

Rising from his stool, Aegon made his way around the island to grab butter for his toast. “Slept with a Lannister once. Let me tell ya, boys, they are feisty!” the eldest bragged, punctuating with a feline growl that made Aemond roll his eye for the tenth time before noon. Butter dish in hand, Aegon padded over to the utensil drawer for a knife. “Why does the prick think we have it anyway? It’s not like we need anything from the rotten old ha— Oh, shit.”

And there it was, between cheap IKEA spoons, packets of wooden chopsticks from takeout, and water-stained cutlery, sat the Targaryen family heirloom— the Valyrian steel catspaw dagger. It stood out from the wooden drawer like a sore thumb. Shiny, heavily embellished with a real stone of ruby that could pay off your student loans, and inscribed by what you were told were Valyrian glyphs; it was outright gaudy in your opinion.

When Viserys Targaryen, a multi-media conglomerate and filthy-rich billionaire, passed from his long battle with cancer, he had stated in his will that each of his children was to inherit a portion of his riches. Their eldest half-sister, Rhaenyra, had been given almost half of their father’s wealth in money and property, as well as being the immediate successor to the family company, Dragonstone Corporation. For the rest of the siblings, the other half was split among the four of them, which was, frankly, chump change compared to what their sister got. The only consolation was that they were granted to keep any furniture in their dad’s penthouse. Not the flat itself though, that was for Daemon, as well as the family heirloom that no one else coveted but their uncle.

Now, did the Targaryens have enough money to settle themselves into a manor large enough that each of them could have rooms larger than their current living spaces? Abso-fucking-lutely. But Viserys had been sick for a long time, tethering at a hair’s breadth from death for years. At that time, he had expressed his dying wish of having his family close to him, despite their many, many differences and ill feelings. These hotheaded silver heads could hardly stand to be under the same roof with each other; as if Aemond’s missing eye wasn’t proof enough, but their father was more persistent to have his way. Hence, they had all been given keys to their own flats in one of Dragonstone Co.’s premier luxury buildings, the Red Keep.

Rhaenyra and Harwin were on the second floor, with Jace and Luke in a bachelor’s pad two doors down. Alicent was on the fourth, taking a smaller place of her own after her husband’s passing with her trusted bodyguard and oddly close companion, Criston Cole, staying in the unit adjacent to hers. Aemond and the siblings were situated in a spacious 4-bedroom on the thirteenth floor, the farthest away from anyone.

Technically, they were all still under the same roof, but it helped when the only time one could encounter their estranged kin was when they had the misfortune of being down at the mailboxes together, which was rarely ever. They always had the freedom to move out, but the Red Keep was a highly sought-after property, centrally located in the heart of King’s Landing. It afforded them luxuries not found in other places, a more than perfect location if only it weren’t for the fact that it ran the risk of bumping into their estranged, unmistakably hungover uncle walking his dog Caraxes at the private dog park.

Their grief on their loss was brief, rather relieved with being free of the ghost of a father’s hold on their lives, but Viserys’ blatant favoritism had the siblings muttering ill wishes in his afterlife. You were there with Aemond on the day the children were called up to take their pick of the furniture in the penthouse, wide-eyed at the millions worth of designer, custom furnishings adorning the space. They were all given their respective colored stickers that they tabbed on their picks, yet none of them seemed to be enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. No talk of some family heirloom was discussed as far as you were aware, rather busied with tugging on Aemond’s sleeve to urge him to place his claim on the toile de Jouy fine china that would go exceptionally well with the countryside cottage you were saving up for when you got married.

“Aegon, how many times do I have to say you can’t sell Dad’s stuff on eBay? Not the important ones at least!”

“Hey, it’s not me! You’re the one who’s got a crush on Daemon, you sure you didn’t take it to piss him off?”

The sound of the instant finger-pointing and bickering within the boys was deafening. No one seemed to have any recollection of taking the dagger back to their place, nor did they express any want for it. It seemed that Viserys left one last act of messing with his kids’ lives, a ghostly imbecilic stunt, especially when Daemon was threatening to sue for inheritance theft.

Beside you, an anxious Helaena was biting her lip as you both watched the three sons butt heads in finding the culprit. The urge to spit out the truth was palpable, emanating from her slouched, mohair-sweater-adorned body as your eyes widened in realization. One worried look from her and you understood. After all, she was your best friend, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“Okay! It was me!”

The arguments ceased at her exclaim, three and a half pairs of eyes turning to stare at her instantaneously. No one opened their mouth to voice their frustration, not when it came to Helaena. Alicent’s only girl rubbed a hand over her face in angst, fidgeting on the island’s bar stool as they all awaited her explanation. “I found it in Dad’s study when I was looking for the taxidermy beetles he used to have. It was on the shelf… and nobody put a sticker on it so I didn’t know!”

“That’s because Daemon’s made it pretty clear it was his since the dawn of time, big sis,” Daeron replied, scratching the back of his neck as they all pondered on what to do.

“Why’d you even want this old thing, Hel? It’s ugly as shit,” Aegon commented, flipping the dagger on the counter with a frown on his face.

Another frustrated groan left her lips, face planting on her arms while you tried to soothe her, shooting a warning look at the three boys still standing around the table. “I thought it was kinda nice to have! Like, you know… for charcuterie and stuff!”

“Well, why can’t you guys just talk to Daemon about it? It was an honest mistake! He won’t send his own family to jail… right?” you suggested, flashing a lighthearted smile that went unreciprocated by the four silverheads around you. Frankly, your words failed to convince yourself too, because if there was one thing you learned in the years you’ve spent with the Targaryens, it was that nothing ever got fixed with a simple conversation. They were all quick to anger, jumping at the first chance to butt heads when it presented itself. This was going to be tricky.

A resounding buzz from the unit’s intercom cut through the worried tension within the group, your stress multiplying when the snobby voice of Jason Lannister reverberated from the tiny box.

“Good morning, this is Jason Lannister, a detective with the KLPD. I am here on request by Mr. Daemon Targaryen for an item he claims to have been stolen from your father’s penthouse. Your unit will be the first to be searched, I appreciate your cooperation.”

Seven Hells, of course, they were first. The Hightower side of the family definitely wasn’t Daemon’s favorite bunch, and there was no doubt that there was a huge possibility he could sniff them out in no time. Chaos ensued almost immediately, a mirrored panic prompting everyone in the house to look for ways to dispose of the damned knife.

“Throw it in the trash!” Daeron suggested, opening the lid to the bin. Aegon, already perspiring down his forehead, shook his head vehemently.

“No, wait! Don’t let me see where you’ll hide it! The moment he comes in here, I’ll just yell trash!” he rambled, promptly covering his eyes with a hand and turning his back away. Gods, the pit stains on his shirt were already growing darker with sweat. Gross.

“Why don’t we just throw it out the window?” you pointed out, jabbing a thumb to the open window behind you. Helaena and Daeron both nod in agreement, voicing their thoughts on the idea.

“And stab someone in the brain on its way down? Not necessarily making it better for us,” Aemond grumbled, clearly the most stressed among the group. His good eye waved across the space frantically, thinking of ways of an alibi. There was no doubt the search would be thorough, and he wouldn’t put it past Daemon to order for their whole place to be turned upside down in the process. There was no way they could hide in their apartment, unless…

The idea hit him like a brand-new light bulb, his features brightening as he contemplated. “What if,” he started, rubbing his chin in thought at such a bold plan. “What if we hide it at mum’s place?”

“Are you insane?! You’re seriously going to pin this on our own mother?” Daeron questioned, his eyes wide with bewilderment at his brother’s plan. It was a shitty plan, but they were running out of options.

“She’s at the lake house until Sunday, and they can’t search without a warrant if they don’t have her consent. We’ll just use the keys she gave us, keep it there, and when the whole thing blows over, we’ll secretly put it back in the penthouse,” Aemond explained, waving his hands around wildly. It was clear he didn’t agree with this plan either, but it was better than throwing the knife out and landing it on someone’s skull on accident. “If they find it there, we’ll ask Nyra for help. We’ll just have to trust whatever gross girl crush feelings she has left for Mum. She can deal with Daemon, can’t she?”

You all looked at each other, contemplating. Daemon hasn’t had a judge issue a warrant yet, so her unit won’t be searched while she’s still out of town with Criston and her brother, Gwayne. It was tricky… but it was plausible. Another buzz from the lobby urged you to decide faster, but as no one seemed to think of a better option it was determined.

With a silent agreement from everyone, Aemond nodded, before taking the catspaw dagger and placing it in an old shoebox. He fished the keys his mother gave him, before disappearing out the front door. In the meantime, Daeron buzzed the detective into the building, while you and Helaena fixed up the damp, clammy mess that was Aegon.

“I can’t handle this,” he whined, chest heaving. You were coaching him on what to say in case The Lion asked him anything, but his tongue was all in a twist from how anxious he was. Turning him around by the shoulders, a prominent sweat stain the size of Dorne covered the entire backside of his sleep shirt. Why the hell was his eye twitching so much?

“Oh my gods, you’re a mess! Here,” his sister urged, handing him the oversized, clunky sweater she had knit him for his birthday earlier this year. It was a bright yellow, with a forest green cartoon dragon embroidered on its chest, and fell just around mid-thigh. Helaena turned to you, exchanging a twin look of concern at the sight of him. Skin flushed, greasy, silver locks stuck to his forehead, clad in a bright sweater in the middle of summer. He kind of looked like the Michelin man in boxers.

“Relax, you’re going to be fine! We’re all going to be fine, right?” you reassured the room with a light tone of confidence, though the squeak in your voice all told them otherwise.

The longer Aemond took to return, things were starting to feel less fine.

Sat on the couch tightly together, you all were stiff as cardboard as The Lion explained the customary steps of a search. Your eyes shifted to the door every minute, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to return. None of you were suited to face a man like Jason Lannister, whose eyes studied all of you like a predator waiting to prowl. “This isn’t a formal search, since, of course, your uncle has been issued a warrant by a judge yet. But since all tenants of the home are here, consent can be authori—”

“Brogues!” Aegon suddenly shouted, prompting all eyes to turn to him. Jason tilted his head in confusion, and all three of you resisted the urge to bury your heads into your hands. “Uh, y-you’re wearing brogues,” he said, clearing his throat. A shaky finger pointed at the decorated, brown leather shoes adorning The Lion’s feet, followed by an attempt at a nonchalant smile that looked more like a grimace. You subtly pinched his thigh, silently urging him to get it together.

“Hm? Oh, yes! Thank you for noticing them, Mr. Targaryen,” Lannister replied, a tinge of bafflement still decorating his tone. “Anyway, as I was saying…” He continued to explicate the procedure, pulling out a small notepad and a pen from his pocket before beginning his search.

Before he could start, the front door opened to reveal Aemond, who was unaware of the presence of an officer of the law standing in the middle of the living room. His hand ran through the messed up strands of his hair, while his mouth also ran a mile a minute blindly. “Okay, I know that took so long but the twins were on the elevator and I had to take the sta–” Springing up from your seat, you cut your boyfriend’s words off by slamming your lips onto his to shut him up. You might have exaggerated the kiss to keep it believable, but it took Aemond a second to piece two and two together when you pulled away.

“Detective Lannister, this is my boyfriend, Aemond, who just came from, uh, the gym.” The Lion’s brows furrowed at your words, blue orbs flickering to the Adidas slides the silver-haired man was clearly not wearing to lift weights at the gym. Aemond cleared his throat, composing himself, before straightening his back to stand taller.

“Yes, I like to run… barefoot. Better for your feet!” he lied, throwing you a look that made you smile at him sheepishly for such a terrible excuse. Things were going south at a breakneck speed, and would only continue to go downhill when The Lion announced he would begin his search.

The detective soon pulled on a pair of latex gloves, taking nearly an hour to examine each nook and cranny of your home. Drawers were pulled open, rooms examined and closets bared, the dagger was nowhere to be found. Relief started to waft through the four-bedroom apartment, but your success was shortlived when the blonde Lannister soon announced that after his search he would all question you individually, starting with Aegon.

Shit.

The sound of the bedroom door closing almost had the eldest collapsing, body seriously overheating in a mix of dread and fear as Lannister stood before him.

“Now, Aegon. I know you have seen this dagger in your dad’s home before he passed. I want you to tell me everything you know that could help with finding it,” he said. Aegon racked his brain to think of a lie, any lie, but his tongue refused to utter any word that held no ounce of the truth of the heirloom’s actual whereabouts. He recalled the stuff you had taught him to say.

I haven’t seen it since I was a kid, detective.

I’m pretty sure Daemon already has the dagger.

I don’t know.

“I wear latex gloves on my feet once a week to moisturize them.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but his brain refused to stop wiring out actual truths about himself in an attempt to sway the detective’s attention away from the topic at hand. “I had my first kiss at a movie theater when I was 15. We were watching Forrest Gump, and I was snoggin’ all three hours of that film. It was awesome,” he continued, letting out a small chuckle at the memory. The Lion’s brows must be stuck in its furrowed state now, with the absolute nonsense that greeted him the moment he stepped foot into their door.

“What are you talking about?’ the detective asked in absolute bewilderment.

“I’ve had a lot of sex. A lot. I’ve probably gotten a lot of girls pregnant, for all I know. Oh! You wanna see my son Jaehaerys? He just turned five!” Aegon had reached into his pocket to grab his phone, but Lannister had thrown up his hands in exasperation with a sigh.

“Okay! I think I’m all done here. I will have to take a look at your mother’s place after this.”

“Y-you can’t do that, she isn’t home!” Aegon stammered, panicking at the prospect that their strategy was going to fail and their mother would be locked behind bars for their mistake.

“Oh no, I was informed just this morning that she was on her way back.”

With his words, Aegon just about fainted the moment The Lion swung the door open to leave his room.

You couldn’t have imagined things taking a turn for the worse, but it most certainly did tenfold. Alicent had barely set her Louis Vuitton weekender bag down before The Lion was already prowling through her home, with a displeased Daemon Targaryen arriving to keep a close watch. If Viserys’ brother was suspicious of his nephews and niece stealing his heirloom, he was especially convinced that their mother would have it. You all stood in her kitchen holding your breaths; an anxious, huddled mess silently praying to whatever being in the sky that nothing would be found. Even Nyra had made her way to her estranged friend’s unit, voicing her belief that Alicent would not have taken the catspaw dagger.

Your prayers went unanswered when The Lion emerged from Alicent’s walk-in closet, carrying an old Ferragamo shoebox that contained the hefty, Valyrian steel weapon. Daemon’s chuckle was as wicked as a witch’s, clearly triumphant with finding something to penalize his brother’s widow.

“This is absurd! I did not take that thing from the penthouse, or anything at all!” was Alicent’s defense, but Daemon was having none of it.

“Oh save it, Alicent. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on my brother’s possessions after he’s left you so little, could you, red?” he sneered, pointing an accusing hand into the woman’s face. Criston Cole pushed Alicent behind his back in defense, puffing his chest menacingly to dare Daemon to try anything. Yells and insults echo throughout the apartment, with threats of jail time thrown about to make things worse.

“This is bad, this is bad,” Daeron muttered, biting his fingernails down to stubs as he watched on. You turned to Aemond, whose good eye was widened to the size of a dinner plate as he watched his plan turn to shit.

“Do something,” you urged him, pulling on his wrist. He was stuck in place, mouth gaping like a fish.

“I…” he stuttered.

“I can’t take it anymore, I’ll just come clean,” Helaena spoke up, stepping away to admit her fault. Before she could voice her guilt, the sound of a steel handcuffs being unhinged was a shrill noise, and with it, a sweaty Aegon broke out into a sob.

“No, Mummy!”

In a blink, he crossed the room to cling to his mother, shielding him away before the detective could put her in cuffs. Alicent’s face broke out into a look of surprise, then to disgust at the damp hold her son had her in.

“Mister Targaryen, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside,” Jason ordered. Aegon looked at his siblings, a shocked Aemond, an anxious Daeron, then to a guilty Helaena. With a sigh, the eldest stood straight, swallowing down his pride and mustering his courage.

“It was me,” he lied, taking everyone in the room in shock at his admittance. “I took it because… I wanted something of Dad’s to remember him by. I mean, Nyra, you got everything else, I thought it didn’t matter if I took something smaller like this. I was just keeping it safe in Mum’s closet.”

You exchanged a look of surprise with the siblings, somehow feeling impressed at his display. The execution was flawless, and it even had their half-sister wearing a look of guilt at his words. Aegon dropped to the floor, stomach down onto the carpet with his hands behind his back, despite the look of perplexion around the room.

“Alright, officer. Take me downtown to the pound. I only hope my end will be kind.”

“I can’t believe Aeg’s sweaty ass got us out of trouble, even guilt-tripped Nyra to hell,” Daeron snickered, before taking a swig of his beer. The sun was only beginning to set, the remnants of the midsummer breeze carrying a tinge of humidity in the night air. You all lounged about the rooftop, passing around ice-cold beers while Aemond was manning the barbeque.

After the whole ordeal, Rhaenyra managed to talk their uncle out of wanting to sue Aegon. With hushed whispers and an oddly intimate caress on Daemon’s cheek, their brother was free to go. His little speech made her feel bad for him, and frankly, everyone else was more than over dealing with his anxious, sweaty mess. The Lion soon left their mother’s apartment, Daemon had his dagger back, and Alicent showed her thanks over a bottle of wine with Rhaenyra along with some other activities their kids didn’t want to start imagining.

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of myself for doing the impossible today. I think I make a pretty convincing liar,” Aegon said, wearing a proud look on his face. The second son scoffed at his words, approaching the table with a plate of grilled meats. He took his seat at the edge of the lounge bed you were lying on, stealing a swig of your beer.

“Congratulations. You have as much willpower as the two-year-old daughter you’ve forgotten about,” your boyfriend snorted, before being tackled off his ass and onto the ground by the eldest. You watched on in amusement, shaking your head at their antics.

You’ve learned many things in your time with the Targaryens, but one thing was always for sure, there was never a dull moment with any of them.

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ficzers · 8 months ago

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hello! if it's alright with you, could you write some head canons for Vander x reader where the reader is a doctor/healer from piltover?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑽𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓:

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝑪𝒔

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧

—*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆—

♡ - You would probably spend a lot of time fixing him up whenever he gets into street fights. I don’t think it would happen nearly as often if this is Vander after adopting all the kids, but would still be every once in a while. He would be very flirty as you’re patching him up, especially if it’s areas like his chest or hands

♡ - Vander himself is a protector, so he sees your job as noble and incredibly important. This is probably how he fell for you in the first place, seeing you take care of others as patiently and efficiently as you could

♡ - If this is Vander after adopting all the kids, he would also probably be spending a lot of time cleaning up the kids’ wounds as well, lol. You basically become a healer for the whole family, and it makes him fall for you even harder

♡ - You two would probably keep your relationship hidden at first just because you two don’t want to immediately deal with the social backlash of a Zaunite dating someone from Piltover. You both couldn’t care less where the other is from, but you both know people wouldn’t really take kindly to it

♡ - Vander would be very old school when it comes to romance. He would take you out on classy dates, unironically take you on long walks on the beach, and probably buy those cheesy mugs that have that writing on them like “This Guy Has the Best Partner” and “This Boyfriend is in the Doghouse”

♡ - He would say “Doctors orders” to other people whenever you tell him to do something like take out the trash. You just have to deal with the endless dad jokes

—*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆——*ੈ𑁍༘⋆—

#arcane #vander arcane #vander #arcane x reader #x reader #vander x reader #leage of legends

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 5 months ago

Text

SQUEAKY CLEAN

── AKA. . .

the first time you put bucky’s metal arm in the dishwasher | just pure fluff with mentions of angst from the past.

── Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader

(obviously this is an au and i’ve taken creative liberties in bringing back some characters that have passed away because in this story no they didn’t!!!! i’ve loved and been in the mcu fandom since the first iron man so when you see things have been changed, that’s just me taking creative liberties for the sake of my story. as far as powers go, i don’t get into using them but reader can travel the multiverse, and has telekinesis)

thank you @pellucid-constellations for getting me out of my bucky writing slump, without even meaning to! i am but a kathie stan account atp. now brb gonna go re read for the love of the game again 🙂‍↔️

Bucky Barnes wasn’t sure of many things in life. But one thing he is 100% certain of, is that he is completely in love with you.

Even in the beginning, you were a calming presence in his life. He’d known you since you helped Steve track him down in Romania.

Now here you were all these years later, and most days he still couldn’t believe that not only were you in love with him as he was in love with you, but he was lucky enough to call you his wife.

On tough days where you weren’t also working, you often cooked so that he came home to his favorite home cooked meal, you’d make sure he took a long shower to relieve the tension in his muscles, and you even encouraged him to remove his metal arm when he was at home.

The last part occurred after he confessed that yes, he obviously loved being able to have both hands working. But there was a small sense of relief when he was able to be without his metal arm, even if only for short periods of time.

And that’s what you were dealing with right now. Bucky was gone for the day to go meet Sam and Joaquin for what Sam declared would be the best guys day any of them ever had. You were surprised when Bucky said he was going to go without the arm, since they were only going to be eating, watching the best trash tv (again, Sam’s words), and hanging out just the 3 of them.

When he told them, Joaquin immediately offered to pick him up on his way to Sam’s.

That was how you knew he fully trusted the 2 men. Around new people, or anyone he wasn’t too sure of, he always wore the metal arm, saying it was just incase.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed the arm was starting to get a little dirty. Shuri had done an amazing job, and the vibranium prevented itself from retaining any scratches. But there were tiny spots of dry old blood and other stains that didn’t come off no matter how hard you scrubbed, and you worried how Bucky would react when he noticed one day.

You set the arm down on the kitchen counter and sat down as you tried to work out what to do. After thinking for a few minutes, you pulled out your phone, sending a text.

Less than 5 minutes later you were on a Zoom call with the 2 people you thought would best be able to help you.

“I’m telling you, it’ll be fine! I know my technology, and some soap and hot water could probably do it good. It’s made to withstand water whether or not it’s being worn.”

“What she said. Plus if it something goes wrong, just come over and Stark Enterprises will be happy to help. I won’t even charge you.”

Shuri rolled her eyes as Tony spoke, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

As the 2 went back and forth arguing about who’d be able to repair the arm the best, should the dishwasher idea go wrong, you quietly leave the Zoom call, promptly receiving 2 messages.

Figuring fuck it, only one way to find out if this’ll work, you pick up the metal arm and head over to the dishwasher.

After spending too long deciding what cycle to run it on, you opt for the shortest one, pop a dishwasher pod in, and hope for the best.

Realizing Bucky will probably be home soon, you decide to kill time tidying up the apartment. He forgot his phone at home, but Joaquin text you saying that your boyfriend mentioned that he missed you multiple times.

You’re well aware that you could wave your hands around and have your apartment basically tidy itself. On your last girls night, Wanda had shown you how to do just that. But something about moving around the different rooms and cleaning / organizing, it calmed you. So you often chose to just do it manually.

When the door to your and Bucky’s apartment opens, you smile as you realize you were right.

“Doll, I’m home.” You look up to see him toss his keys onto the little table by the door.

He does a double take as he walks by the kitchen counter, noticing the giant piece of metal that’s missing.

“Where… where’s my arm?”

Right after he asks, the dishwasher does the little series of beeps that lets you know it’s finished. You grab Bucky’s hand as you tell him to come with you to the kitchen.

“Wanna take a guess where your arm is?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows as he takes a quick glance around the kitchen. “Under the sink?”

When you realize he thinks you hid it for him to find, you can’t help but laugh. “It’s not hide and seek for your arm baby. Although I’ll keep that in mind for the future. But anyway, you know how your arms really good at not retaining scratches or dents from bullets or knives or whatever people try to kill you with?”

“…yeah.” You can practically see the gears turning in Bucky’s head as he tries to figure out where this conversation is headed.

“But you also know better than anyone that it’s not the easiest thing to clean, right?”

“I— yeah…”

“Well I made a call. Actually I guess technically I got on a call with two people, because I had an idea but wanted to make sure it would work and wouldn’t damage the vibranium.”

“Sweetheart… what did you do?”

“Ta-daaaaa!” You open the dishwasher and slide the bottom rack out.

When Bucky sees his metal arm on the rack, he bursts out laughing. He bends down to look at it, then pulls out his phone to get a picture before he takes it out.

Piggy backing off of his idea, you make him bend down next to the dishwasher, and he makes a face as he looks at the arm, pretending to be grumpy. After you take the photo, he carefully removes the arm and places it on the counter so he can inspect it up close.

It’s then that you’re thankful the dishwasher had a drying feature or you’re sure things would’ve ended bad.

You’re also pleased to see that your idea worked. The arm has a little bit of its shine back like when he was first gifted it. Gone are any traces of blood and whatever else wouldn’t come off when you scrubbed by hand.

When his arm is back on, he approaches you and pulls you close, and you sigh with content at the feeling of being in his embrace again.

“Thank you,” Bucky smiles and places a hand on either side of your face, pulling you in for a kiss.

“All I did was put it in the dishwasher and push a button, but I’m happy to help.”

“No,” Bucky shakes his head. He’s turned serious now, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face, and you know he’s happy. “I don’t mean just for that. When I first got that other arm from hydra, if you’d have told me there was gonna come a day where I’d be able to joke about it and be comfortable enough to take it off in front of people, not that I laughed back then but I would’ve laughed in your face.”

“Buck…” tears filled your eyes as you thought of Bucky as a scared man just forced into captivity. When a tear finally falls, he immediately wipes it away.

“If you’d have told me that eventually I’d meet the love of my life, and that she takes care of me, helps me see that I’m just as much of a man without the arm, I’d have said you were crazy. You know we got a little sentimental over at Sam’s, well he and Joaquin did a little more than me because I don’t get drunk, but we got to talking about safe or happy places. Sam and Joaquin agreed that their happy place was in the sky, when they’re able to fly freely in their suits and there’s no trouble or anything to worry about.”

You smiled as you picture them answering. Sam talked about flying like it was the coolest thing in the world, and you had no doubt that was true.

“I told them my happy place wasn’t actually a place. It’s you. Without a doubt, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. And if I could only pick one reason to be grateful for…” he holds up his left hand and wiggles the metal fingers, “it’d be because it allows me to hold you like this.” He pulls you close once again, and for a moment there’s just a comfortable silence as you enjoy being in each others embrace.

“Well now I’m really glad I decided to put your arm in the dishwasher,” you laugh as a happy tear manages to escape.

“Me too doll, me too.”

bonus ~

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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katemoneymartinsgf · 3 months ago

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May I suggest a one shot where p and a are on different wnba teams. P is talking her shit (nothing crazy 😭) being confident as usual and some of azzis teammate don’t take to kindly so yk there is a scuffle or a hard foul that leads to a scuffle or something, and Instead of azzi backing her team she is backing Paige

You could 100% do it the other way around but just a they don’t play about each other type vibe

L ines you don’t cross[Pazzi]

A/N: I can write the other way if you like as well just lmk. Sky was the first team that popped into my head so here we go. also this is my first time writing in a bit so let me cook. sky was the first team that popped into my head so here we go.

(Wings vs Sky)

It started, like most things with Paige did, with a grin.

She hit Chenedy Carter with a quick crossover, pulled up from midrange, and drilled the shot like it was nothing. Didn't even celebrate — just jogged backward past the Sky bench, flashing a crooked little smirk.

"You’re gonna have to try harder than that," Paige said over her shoulder, light, easy, like it was a private joke.

Azzi, hovering near the top of the key, caught the edge of it and rolled her eyes. Classic. And maybe kind of hot.

Chennedy didn’t take it lightly.

Next dead ball, she brushed past Paige harder than necessary , a little elbow to the ribs. No whistle. No foul. Just a message.

Paige stumbled but caught herself. Turned with that same cocky look and clapped her hands once.

"That it?" she tossed out, loud enough for half the gym to hear.

Chennedy barked back immediately. "Keep talking. It’s all you’re good at."

Azzi didn't move. Not yet.

Trash talk was part of it. And Paige loved it — ate it up like it was air.

Paige laughed, "You’re gonna need more than cheap shots if you wanna slow me down, maybe some defense?"

The ref waved a warning, half-distracted.

Azzi moved in then — not panicked, just steady — nudging herself between them, palm resting lightly on Chennedy’s arm.

"Just let it go," she said, voice even.

She was willing to let it go. Until Chennedy leaned in closer and muttered

"Didn’t think the Wings needed to sign influencers too."

It wasn’t loud. Wasn’t for the crowd. It was for them. And it hit different.

Azzi’s jaw tightened. Her hand dropped.

She didn’t raise her voice. Didn’t cause a scene.

She just looked Chennedy dead in the eye and said, low:

"Watch your mouth."

Short. Quiet. Final.

Chennedy held her stare for a second, but it was over. She turned away first.

Azzi didn’t linger. Just brushed her hand lightly against Paige’s back as she walked past — a small, unspoken you good? Paige didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.

The look she gave Azzi — that tiny, grateful flash — said it all.

————

Paige caught up to her just before she got onto the bus  still half in uniform, towel slung around her neck, that bruise already blooming under her ribs.

She bumped Azzi’s hip with hers, lighter than usual.

"Didn’t know you were out here defending my honor," Paige said, aiming for teasing — but the words stuck a little in her throat with insecurity

Azzi set a hand on her stomach brushing over the bruise

"You were running your mouth," she said. "Someone had to keep you alive."

Paige grinned,

"You always do," she said, so quiet Azzi almost missed it.

Before she could answer, Paige leaned in — quick, almost shy about it — and brushed a kiss across Azzi’s mouth.

It was barely there. Not cocky. Not playful. Like she was pulling back before she could get caught needing it too much.

“Thank you” she whispered before she started to turn, ready to leave it at that  but Azzi caught her wrist. Pulled her back in, this time kissing her fully - steady, sure, anchoring her.  Paige leaned into it without thinking, letting herself be held for one breath, two.

When they broke apart, Paige ducked her head, cheeks flushed.

"You’re obsessed with me," she mumbled, trying — and failing — to sound smug.

Azzi rolled her eyes, smirking.

"Yeah," she said dryly. "Tragically."

Paige laughed, shoved her towel weakly against Azzi’s stomach, and spun on her heel, jogging away down the tunnel with a little slip

Azzi watched her go with a smile before calling out , voice warm, no hesitation:

"I love you!"

Paige didn’t even slow down — just flung a hand up over her shoulder and yelled back:

"I love you more!"

Azzi smiled to herself and pulled her hoodie lower over her face like it could hide the way her whole heart felt bigger somehow.

Some battles weren’t about the game.

Some things were just worth protecting — no questions asked.

#wnba #wnba basketball #ncaa wbb #wlw #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd x reader #azzi x reader #azzi fudd #uconn lives #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #dallas wings #chicago sky #one shot

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heartbreakgirl67 · 2 months ago

Text

I Wish I Knew. [B.B]

summary: you and Bucky, two people who never seemed to get along, are forced into a marriage. But he's starting to look a little different to you...

pairing: congress!Bucky x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

content: (slight) enemies to lovers, banter, marriage of convenience, fluff, angst, soft Bucky, jealousy, kissing, gets defensive of Bucky, drunk Bucky, pet names, yearning for each other but they would never admit it

a/n: first time writing a one shot, but congress Bucky has been running in my mind for weeks. hope you like it!!

5 weeks ago

“You cannot be serious.”

“You know what, for once you seem to be making sense. I agree, we can’t–”

“For once? I’m always making sense.”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t make me laugh.”

“I tend to have that effect on people.”

“On who? Your parents?”

“They’re dead.”

He paused. “My point still stands.”

“You little–”

“Enough!” Congressman Gary slammed the table, the loud thud echoing throughout the small office you were seated in. Both Bucky and you got the hint and immediately shut your mouths. He sighed, slowly sitting back down on the plush cushioned seat he had–a huge contrast from the hard, chipped wooden chairs you were both seated in.

Gary took off his glasses and started wiping it with a random cloth that was lying on the table. “You do realise this is our only chance right?” his eyes darted between the both of you. “Our only chance to get a good piece of Val. She’s planning something. Her records are squeaky clean and as time progresses, we’re losing the upper hand,” He places the glasses back on the bridge of his nose, giving each of you a look, “I know you both have some…issues with each other, but you’re pretty much all I have for this. So whatever it is, work it out, or at the very least, pretend like you like each other.”

The room went silent for a second, none of you really knowing what to say, before you spoke up. “But Mr. Gary, don’t you think getting married is a bit too, oh I don’t know, much?”

“It’s for his image,” Gary nodded towards Bucky, who sat there with that scowl that was always on his face and his arms crossed. Bucky opened his mouth to protest but Gary beat him to it. “People are concerned about an ex-assassin, brainwashed, might I add, in a congress. This way you can seem a little bit more family oriented and gain the trust of people. Especially since she’s well liked by the public.”

You smirked, turning to face Bucky, who in return, rolled his eyes at you.

“They voted for me,” Bucky mumbled under his breath.

“You sure you didn’t bribe anyone?” You snarked. Bucky glares at you, “ Of course I didn’t bribe anyone. I’m quite–I’m quite convincing,” He mutters, not seeming convinced by himself.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” you snorted.

Gary knocks on the table twice to get your attention again. “So you’re in?”

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m in.” He turned to you expectantly.

Your eyes fell to your hands on your lap, your fingers pulling at the thin gold bracelet on your right wrist. Against your better judgement, you nodded, "I'm in."

Present day

You were quite literally losing your mind.

You couldn’t seem to find the gold band that always sat on your wrist–and you had to leave in five minutes.

“Y/N! What the fuck is taking you so long we have to leave…” Bucky’s voice trailed off as he peeked into your room. Gary had the amazing idea of putting both of you in Bucky’s one bedroom apartment, instead of getting both of you a bigger place to live in. Luckily for you, Bucky preferred to sleep on a worn-out air mattress in the living room, so you got the queen-sized bed.

“What are you doing?” he asked slowly, confused at your frantic behaviour. You were trashing the room, throwing stuff all around, looking for the dainty band. “I can’t find it,” you breathed out in a panic, bending down to look under the bed.

You heard Bucky sigh heavily before he walked into the room towards you on the floor. “C’mon.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you up.

“No, but–” you protested. “C’mon.” He repeated. He stood right in front of you, hands still on your shoulders as he looked down at your slightly messy state. You had your hair that was once tied up in a bun now strewn on your forehead. His eyes trailed down to your hands where you were pinching the skin of your right wrist. He looked back up to your wild eyes, a look of understanding painting his features. “You should have just told me,” he said as he reached into his black suit pants pocket and fished out the familiar bracelet.

You gasped, snatching it from his grip. “I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re thinking. I found it between the couch cushions just now. I was going to give it to you,” he paused, noticing that you were struggling with the clasp. He takes it out of your grasp gently before fixing it on for you, “I didn’t know it meant a lot to you. Someone special gave it to you?”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, quiet but sincere, before turning to face the mirror to fix up your look. Bucky nodded, seeming to get the hint that you didn’t want to talk about it. “I’ll be waiting at the door,” he said before leaving the room.

~~~

The marriage had put you in a weird spot in your relationship. On occasion, you used to be partnered up on missions together. Not once did you get along, despite always completing the task with success.

Now, after pretty much being together 24/7 for a little over a month, the dynamic you had changed without realising. You both didn’t banter as much as you did before, you could come to an agreement on certain things, you worked together better–both at home and at work, and you could be in each other’s presence without wanting to rip the other’s throat out. Well, most of the time.

The weirdest part to you was the intimacy. Not just the physical aspect–the one for the public–but the emotional part of it as well. It wasn’t like you have deep emotional chats on the daily, or at all, but you seemed to understand each other’s thoughts and actions better. Things he used to do and say didn’t affect you the way it did before because you understood which part of him it came from. You noticed that he started doing the same when it came to you.

“Congressman Barnes,” A slender man in a full black suit walks up to you with a big grin. Bucky’s hand instinctively placed itself on your lower back that was draped in a silver blue silk gown. He leans down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “Gary’s friend. Also works for him.”

“Mr. Dean,” Bucky nodded in greeting. “How’ve you been?”

The man, Mr. Dean,’s eyes travelled from Bucky to you, a smirk pulling at his lips. His forest green eyes scanned you up and down before meeting your own. “And who must this lovely lady be?” You weren’t sure if you were just imagining it, but you felt Bucky’s hand press tighter against your back.

Your lips parted to answer but Bucky quickly interrupted you. “My wife, Y/N.” Mr. Dean hummed in acknowledgement, “Right. I did hear about you getting married,” he chuckled, his intense gaze still fixated on you, “How could I have forgotten?”

“Well, there are a lot of other women's names you need to remember, don’t you?” Bucky muttered. Mr. Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by that exactly, Sergeant Barnes?”

You laughed loudly, slapping Bucky’s chest, to which he winced slightly. “Oh Bucky, he isn’t really good with words. He hasn’t really adapted to our style of communication yet. He’s learning though, Aren't you, Buck?”

Bucky grumbled, glaring at the man in front of you. “Aren’t you, Buck?” You dug your nails into his chest and looked up at him with a smile.

“Mhm.”

“Well it was good meeting you Mr. Dean. We hope you have a good rest of your night,” you quickly added before turning you both around, towards the bar station. You sat Bucky down on the stool.

“Drink?” the bartender asked.

“A shot of vodka, please.” You turned to face Bucky, looking down at him. He had his hands rested on the counter as he looked down. “Look at me,” you ordered, to which he ignored. “Bucky.”

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. You could see the glaring annoyance in his eyes. “What?”

“What the fuck was that?” you whisper-shouted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You groaned, holding back the urge to tug at your hair, so naturally, your hand tugged the band on your wrist. “I’d be shocked if you even manage to serve a full term,” you groused.

You grabbed the shot glass and placed it in front of him. You knew about his struggle with getting drunk but you were hoping that it’ll help, at least a tiny bit.

Just as the glass touched his lips you heard your name being mentioned in a hushed conversation going on behind you. Bucky seemed to have heard it too as he stopped his movement, placing the glass back down.

“You reckon it’s an act?”

“Yeah man, can’t you tell? What woman in their right mind would want to be with that lunatic anyway?”

They burst out laughing. ‘You’re right. Does he even know how to smile? I bet they’ve never even slept together.”

“Oh for sure. She looks like she wants to escape from his clutches.”

“I had a chat with them just now. The way she looked at me, she definitely wanted to escape. I would have taken her if it weren’t for the killing machine beside her.”

Fuck no.

Your head snapped in their direction. You were about to give them a piece of your mind before you felt a hand grab your wrist. You looked over at him, his eyes not meeting yours. He slid his drink over to you.

In an attempt to control yourself from ripping them apart, limb by limb, you gulped down the shot.

The both of you continued to have small chats with people before retreating to a hidden corner of the hall. It was a shadowed end, both you and Bucky leaning on opposite walls.

“This fucking sucks,” you murmured. Your hair suddenly felt too tight, you could feel the makeup on your skin, and your legs were sore.

Bucky didn’t say anything, his eyes scanning around the room. So you continued, “but you know what sucks even more? The way those dickbags were talking about you. I just know their wives feel disappointed every time they hear the keys in the door,” you felt a wave of anger rush over you. You didn’t know if the alcohol had a part in this. “How fucking dare they? They’ve never lived half the life you did and they think they have the right to talk about you like that. I want to just cut up their tongue –”

You didn’t realise your hand clawing at your wrist until you felt the cool metal of Bucky’s hand lace his fingers into yours. He’s never done that. You looked up at him, your lips parted.

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

“You can’t just let them, Bucky–”

“Sweetheart, I said don’t.”

You closed your mouth, deciding to give him peace today. His eyes stopped scanning the room and landed on yours. You suddenly realised how close he was, acutely aware of the way his body was pressed against yours–the heat of his body being a major contrast to the cold tips of his fingers rubbing against the back of your hand.

His other hand reached up hesitantly to cup your face before softly placing it on your cheek. His touch was feather light, like he was afraid you were going to pull away at any second. You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

“Bucky, what are–what are you doing?” you whispered, your eyes darting between both of his beautiful blue ones.

You knew Bucky was an attractive man, who didn’t? But at that moment you realised just how gorgeous he really was. Seeing him up close like this had you noticing the small things that made him him.

“I wish I knew,” he answered breathily before smashing his lips against yours.

You went limp against his arms for a few seconds before reciprocating. Your lips moulded into each other as your hand reached up, tangling your fingers into his slicked back hair.

You felt like you were on fire. You’ve never been kissed like this before. Like you were the only thing that ever mattered to him. Like he needed to do this–like he needed you–like he needed oxygen.

You tugged on his hair a little, eliciting a groan from his lips against yours, the vibration making you feel feral. You felt his hands were roaming all around your body, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realise…”

You pulled away from each other, gasping and panting, as you turned to face the voice.

“It’s uh, it’s fine, Mr. Dean,” Bucky stammered, brushing his hair out of his face, looking at anywhere but you.

“And here I thought you wanted to talk to me. I guess I misread it,” he chuckled.

You turned to face Bucky, confused at what he was referring to. Bucky’s guilty eyes met yours and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“Well I should get going. Don’t let me interrupt what you had going on,” Dean teased. Bucky pulled his eyes away from your gaze, hurt seeping through your face. “It’s alright. You didn’t interrupt anything. I did want to talk to you about something,” Bucky said, walking away from you with that dick.

~~~

Somehow the night ended with you dragging a drunk Bucky back home. After he left you, you decided to drown your feelings by the bar. You knew you couldn’t be a mess and mess up Bucky’s reputation, so despite your need to forget that incident, you controlled yourself.

A couple missed calls and hours later, you started to get worried about Bucky. You searched up and down the hall, only to find him sitting on a curb outside at the back. He had his head in his hands–that were bloody and cut–and when you called out to him, you noticed his dilated pupils and sighed.

Now it was probably one in the morning, and you dropped yourself right beside Bucky on your bed. You had just cleaned his cuts and wiped his face with a cloth and warm water. You were so tired.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he said softly.

“Bucky–”

“No. No. You need to know this,” He slurred, turning to face you while lying down. He rested his cheek on the bend of his elbow. He looked so…innocent.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he repeated, “so bad. Oh god, so bad. But I did use you for my own benefit. It just was…that fucking dickhead, the way he was looking at you, I couldn’t–I couldn’t bear it. I needed him to know.”

“Needed him to know what?” you asked in a hushed tone, mentally and physically too tired to do anything.

“That I like you,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That you couldn’t possibly want him because I needed you to want me. And when I saw him across the room, and you were that close to me,” his eyes clamped shut, “I had to take my chance. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No. Don’t be sorry,” was all you said in a quiet voice. You didn’t really know what to reply to that. You wanted to say that you felt the same way and probably more. That you wanted him in ways you’ve never wanted anyone. But you couldn’t. Not when he probably didn’t even feel the way he said he did.

Also because he was already fast asleep.

#thunderbolts #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #thunderbolts fic #the new avengers #fanfic #bucky barnes x fem!reader #thunderbolts*#mcu fanfiction #mcu

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minhosimthings · 7 months ago

Text

A Nonsense Christmas || NSFW

Synopsis: Due to a terrible snowstorm, you were forced to skip out on your yearly family gathering. However, your Christmas gets better when a certain blonde slips through your chimney to give you, your naughty presents.

Pairings: Felix × fem!reader, includes rest of Skz, Julie of Kiof, Ni-ki of Enhypen

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, use of vibrator, fingering, hair pulling, brief squirting, missionary, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, unprotected sex (not for you), praise, degradation, overstimulation, swearing, dirty talk, mention of alcohol

A/N: FELIX NAVIDAD FELIX NAVIDAD YEAHHHH. Fun fact, this is my second Felix fic. And also my entry to @stayblrofficial's Holiday Writing Event! Anyway, a late Merry Christmas to everyone and I hope next year is as splendid as this one was. As always, enjoy!

Word count: 6.8k

Song Rec: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter (preferably her live stages)

Stockings on the wall, peppermint tea, a giant tree with baubles, snowmen, hot chocolate, presents and Santa Claus.

And maybe Mariah Carey too.

Those were the things that made your Christmas, a true Christmas.

Ever since you were old enough to remember, you knew your family was crazy about Christmas. Each year, without fail you’d be dragged off to buy new stockings, a ginormous tree, hot chocolate bombs, gifts for relatives and numerous Christmas events organised by some or the other watchkeeping society. You distinctly remember the smell of warm milk and your mother’s home baked cookies wafting into your room on Christmas Eve. You also remember the feeling of a slap on the hand when you and your brother tried to steal some cookies, only to be chided and locked in your rooms until the morning, lest you sneak out and ‘find’ Santa Claus.

But of course, being the amazing child you were, you learnt from an early age that the fat man who rode a sleigh pulled by reindeers and carried a sack full of presents was nothing but an old wives tale. Laughter still erupted from within you whenever you’d recall the time you told your younger brother, Riki about it, making him sob for an hour–though he immediately shut up when you bribed him with a stolen cookie.

Christmas with your family was always the happiest day of the year, no matter what complicated adult shit was going on in your life. Pending taxes and doctor’s appointments that you’d missed? Screw that, you were going home to waste an hour a day for three days playing League with your brother on your parents’ 16 inch flat screen TV.

Even the idea of boarding the plane to your hometown always made you kick your feet up in the air. All the planning, the buying of gifts (along with the hours of waiting in line at the stores), the baking—practically everything Christmas related filled your soul with joy and hope.

But this year was different.

This year brought along with it, a snowstorm—which wouldn't die out until the January of next year.

That is how the meticulously planned flights and schedules that you had arranged in your calendar all went into the trash bin, as you had to listen to your parents wail about how they’d miss their most beloved child so much at the Christmas party they were having. All as your brother watched on with betrayal in his eyes from the background.

Though you tried to soothe their nerves by saying how you’d have just as much fun this year as you did every year, deep inside, you were sobbing non-stop. Everytime you remembered the fact that you wont get to sleep in your childhood bedroom this year, you cried into your pillow, eventually drifting off to sleep from the exhaustion.

In a lousy attempt to cheer yourself up, you accompanied your colleague Julie to a Christmas tree hunt for her house. You had even taken your brown trench coat and deerstalker hat out—a Christmas gift from your parents. While Julie was off bargaining with her crocodile tears, you snooped around the tinier trees—meant for those people who either wanted to spend their Christmas alone, or just didn't want a massive and expensive tree.

And when your eyes landed on one that was sitting all alone, just waiting for the right person to take it home, you knew in your heart that you just had to be that right person.

Some more crocodile tears and a few transactions later, you were suddenly standing in front of your fireplace with a tiny tree decorated with even tinier baubles. The tree reached up to your waist, and though it wasn't as big as the one your parents had, it still warmed your heart enough to get out of your momentary depression and get onto the road to Christmas cheer. So what if you couldn't be with your family? You were big enough to enjoy festivals on your own now.

And so began your quest to celebrate Christmas exactly as you did each year—albeit without your family. You’d have to omit some of the family games and (unfortunately) the tradition of smacking Riki's head into a pie, but apart from that, you were determined to prepare a Christmas Eve feast fit for one and do everything that you'd do if you were home.

Who knows?

Maybe you’d even stay up for Santa.

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

The living room was warm, cozy and overall looked straight out of a Christmas movie. After some hard hours of snooping out your basement, you stumbled upon some Christmas-sy decorations, which in reality were from last year's Halloween.

But hey, decor is decor, and your house finally looked like something which was not the Grinch's house. With mistletoe hanging from every corner, along with your tiny tree and a cracking fire, you plopped down on your couch, and let out a sigh. The dinner you made was devoured within fifteen minutes, and you were surprised by how great your plum-pudding turned out. Maybe Christmas would be great this year as well.

Alas though.

All that mistletoe and no one to kiss it under.

All wrapped up in work ever since you graduated, you never really thought about relationships and all that jazz. Under the weight of your parents’ protests for grandchildren, you’d gone on a few dates here and there. But gradually, you started to lose interest and so did your parents. Their interest turned to your brother, whose misery you enjoyed in a sadistic sibling way.

And anyways, who needs boyfriends and mistresses when you’ve got something better?

Fanfiction!

Sitting on the couch, you lazily scrolled across your Tumblr home-page. A gleam tore through your eyes as the sight of all the Christmas fics. Your fingers soon started aching from all the tiny hearts that appeared at the end of every other fic that popped up, with their customised banners and flamboyant titles. Most of them were your general Christmas morning fun stories, but the ones that particularly caught your egregiously horny eyes were the ones where the ‘warnings’ paragraphs stood the tallest.

Unsurprisingly most of them were named after Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan songs. But then again, who’d skip the opportunity to name a fic about filthy positions and a short part about bondage, ‘After Midnight’?

After meticulously crafting a well curated library of fics (ranging from sugary sweet to the one about the 69), you glanced up at your clock.

10:03

You had recently been enjoying going to bed as soon as the hands of the clock hit nine pm. Yes, it was a ridiculously early bedtime for someone whose teenage years were filled with promises of staying up till 2 in the morning when you grow up, but if adulthood had taught you anything, it's that 'early to bed, early to rise' was actually a pretty good proverb to live by. Were you getting old? Perhaps.

Still not old enough to stay up for Santa though, you thought, laying your phone down on the coffee table and settling comfortably onto the couch. You curled up like a cat, and faced the warm fire, crackling in front of you.

Your eyes wandered up to the Christmas list that you had created on a whim, when you got drunk with Julie earlier that day. There were only two things on the list.

A glittery blue vibrator, and for someone to fuck you into the next year.

A bit much to wish for some old man in a red suit to bring all of those things to you in a sack, but hey it never hurts to hope. And plus, you were horny and all those cunningulus fics were not helping.

With a stomach threatening to burst if you eat one more cookie, and a body that was just plain exhausted, you snapped your eyes shut and drifted off to a much deserved sleep.

It will be a happy Christmas tomorrow.

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

"And what about that big bunch of fertilizer for that farmer from Norway?” Seungmin anxiously tapped his foot as he scanned his eyes again and again over a list attached to his clipboard. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his friends Jeongin, Hyunjin and Changbin were staring at him with concern in their eyes.

“Seung, you should think about taking a nap for a while.” Chan strode into the room with a huge box stuffed with toys in his arms, “Everything will be fine.” He added on seeing Seungmin’s horrified expression.

“It's okay Seungmin, I can just knock you out.” Minho sauntered into the room, wearing a red leather jacket and a huge smile—which turned into a frown when Chan glared at him.

“I just don’t understand how we’re supposed to do all of this without Santa.” Seungmin sighed, collapsing into a chair, “I knew we should have started everything months ago.”

“People wouldn't have even started to make their Christmas wishes by then.” Hyunjin said in a soothing voice, in an attempt to calm his friend’s nerves. Seungmin only sank further into the chair, with a disappointed expression on his face.

“I would.” A cheerful voice said from the corner, which turned out to be Jisung, who was dressed from head to toe in red and gold, looking like a Christmas prince in all his majesty. Jeongin rolled his eyes and looked at the empty armchair next to him. He looked up at Chan.

“Where’s Lix?” He asked, alarmed by the fact that the person who had practically been glued to him all morning was now nowhere to be seen. Chan shrugged, but then Changbin responded.

“I think I saw him checking out stuff in the pink section earlier.” Changbin’s ears turned faintly red when he said this. And it wasn't due to the freezing cold.

The ‘pink section’ was a notorious part of Santa’s workshop. In short, it contained the more ‘adult’ wishes—which were made by single, lonely people or by people who hadn't tasted genitalia in years. Santa was said to have established that section at the demand of his wife, but even Jeongin—the history buff—didn't know the exact reason why. Either way, it was a section, whose contents none of the boys liked handling. Each year they would draw their lots to decide what section each would handle. This year Chan was in charge of the toys and Seumgin was in charge of gardening material.

And the pink section? It went to none other than—

“Lix!” Jisung exclaimed, at the sight of the blonde haired man standing at the door, “Close the door will you? The heater’s on.”

“I noticed.” Felix said in his rich and captivating voice, that could charm almost anyone. Felix flung his arms up and stretched like a cat, the sound of his stiff bones cracking could be heard, as he sat on the empty armchair next to Jeongin with the widest smile on his face.

“Why so joyous, Lix?” Minho asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Felix turned to him.

“It's my first time doing the pink section.” He said rather proudly. A few strands of hair settled in front of his face, framing it beautifully and surrounding him with a magnificent, peacock-like aura.

“You need any pointers?” Chan said, to which Minho laughed raucously.

“Christopher Banhg, our resident playboy.” He said in between fits of laughter. Changbin joined in the teasing, whilst Chan’s entire face slowly started to turn red.

“How many times have you chosen the pink section again?” Changbin asked, “Oh right, seven times.” He answered his own question before Chan could even open his mouth, “I bet you know everything there is to know about it.”

“Oh shut up.” Chan said, his eyes still stuck to the floor, before he turned them to Felix, ‘As I was saying, do you want tips, Felix?”

Before Jisung could say ‘that’s what she said’ Felix spoke, “Nope, I am well prepared for tonight!” His eyes formed crescent moons as he smiled brightly, “I’m particularly excited for this one request though.”

“Oooohhh.” Hyunjin grinned mischievously, “I bet it's a pretty one.” Felix nodded, to which the entire room burst out into laughter.

“Watch out, Chan, he’s coming for your playboy title.” Jisung chuckled, “What’s the wish then?”

“Well, she wants the usual—” Felix took out a post-it note from his pocket and began reading, “A glittery blue vibrator, and the interesting part—” He smirked deviously, whilst raising a brow, “for someone to fuck her into the next year.”

A collective 'oooh' rang around the room as the boys glanced at each other with teasing eyes, and then at Felix. Those kind of requests were usually rare, and at most, all of the boys (excluding the oldest playboy) had fucked about three people, in all of their career.

“I’m weirdly excited.” Felix affirmed, putting the list back in his pocket, and looking past Jeongin’s shoulder at the giant window. Outside, on the beautiful canvas of the starry night, snowflakes fell without any cease in their seemingly perpetual motion. As Minho and Hyunjin had been complaining for a week, this year’s winter was harsher than any before. And they meant it quite literally, as they lived at The North Pole.

“Best of luck Lix.” Changbin gave him a bright smile before standing up, alarming Jeongin, who had his legs resting over Changbin’s thighs.

“Not that you’ll need it though.” Minho said through a barely stifled yawn, “Oh well, I’m off to groom my reindeers. Come along, Innie.” Jeongin grudgingly got up and followed Minho and Changbin out of the room. Hyunjin and Jisung soon followed, after stealing pieces of plum cake from Chan and after Seungmin left—with Chan following carefully behind him—Felix sighed and slumped deeper into the chair.

Reaching into his inner jacket pocket—the secret one he had painstakingly stitched—he pulled out a picture that looked like it was taken on a Polaroid camera.

It was a picture of a woman, dressed in a brown trench coat and a ridiculous deerstalker hat. She was pretty damn hot, Felix had to admit, with a posture so straight that he wondered if she was a princess.

“Fucked into the next year, huh?” He chuckled to himself, putting the picture back into his pocket and running a hand through his hair.

He couldn't wait to get to your house.

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

As a child, you had always imagined Santa to be a bit slimmer than the pictures in which he was depicted, reasoning that he wouldn't be able to fit through chimneys if he was that big. Though your parents were quick to laugh at your opinion, they also didn't want to tell their mere child of a daughter that Santa wasn't real. So they encouraged your extremely controversial opinion.

And you held that opinion quite proudly. None of the other kids in your class had ever thought about that, and regarded you as the class’ genius. Because of this, to this day you still expected Santa (if he did exist) to be the kind of dude you saw on advertisements for gyms.

What you did not expect Santa to be was a 5’8-ish, ridiculously gorgeous blonde guy, dressed in a red suit that fit him beautifully, holding a sack tied with a red ribbon. He stared at you. You stared back.

This was not how you were expecting your Christmas to go like.

Not with a robbery.

“Who the fuck are you.” You said, cautiously picking up a pillow. You tried to run your mind back to all those childhood self-defence classes. Although—judging by this guy’s muscles—they weren't going to be of much use.

“Relax, Miss Y/N.” The man said in a voice as beautiful as his face, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” By the faint light of the crackling fire behind him, you could spot tiny freckles painted across his cheekbones, “I’m here to deliver your Christmas presents.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“You do realise you sound crazy right now?” You said, gripping the pillow a bit tighter, “Listen dude, if you’re here to rob me, I have nothing in my—”

“As I said,” The man kept speaking in the same eloquent manner, “I’m here to deliver your presents.” He preemptively flung his sack to the ground, and bent down on one knee, unravelling the ribbon and opening it up. He reached inside and pulled out a box, setting it on the table in front of him and closing his sack again. Then he looked up at you.

“I’m sorry, but could you please turn the lights on?” He said, “I can’t see that well in the dark.”

This younger Aussie version of Santa can't see well in the dark? You thought as you turned a lamp on. As much as this was the most unbelievable scenario ever, something in the back of your brain told you everything that was happening was real and you were certainly not high right now.

“Um…excuse me?” You began lamely, the blonde looked up at you, “What’s your name?”

“Oh pardon me. I forgot to introduce myself.” He laughed and got up, extending a hand, “I’m Felix. And I'm here to deliver your presents from the North Pole!” He motioned towards the meticulously wrapped present lying next to your tiny tree. Your eyes wandered from the ground up to the note stuck on top of the fireplace.

A glittery blue vibrator, and for someone to fuck you into the next year.

“Uh…” You said, unsure of what else to say. You took another look at the man—Felix. He certainly was handsome, you thought—perhaps not exactly your type but definitely good-looking enough. His long hair fell over his wide shoulders, and you could see the way his suit was tightly fit over his biceps. Your stomach flipped over.

This guy was extremely hot.

And you were extremely horny.

“When you say presents—” You began, slowly sitting down on the couch, “—do you mean that there’s an actual vibrator in there?”

Felix nodded and sat down next to you, running a sharp tongue over his lips. His soft, pink lips. Was it just you or was the fire way too warm right now?

Your life was nothing short of interesting. As a child, you had gotten into multiple ...activities that always seemed to have a surprise at every turn. But this?

This was on top of the list of weird things that have ever happened to you.

“Would you like to open the presents?” Felix snapped you out of your thoughts and you raised your head abruptly to look at him. Your eyes locked onto his and you audibly gasped.

He had eyes as black as coal, stunningly beautiful, with the comfort of a warm fire glowing behind them. They made you want to dive into them and swim around for a while.

“You’re so pretty.” You whispered, not comprehending what you said until a second later, “I mean–” You internally slapped yourself, “—I’m sorry that’s not I meant I just—”

“It’s alright doll.” Felix cut you off, “I think you’re pretty too.” His voice again; it felt like a glass of whiskey after a long day. Doll, he called you.

“Oh..” You trailed off, feeling warmth creep up to your cheeks, “Thank you.” You mumbled, looking down at the presents once more, “Should I open them now? Or wait till tomorrow? I don't wanna be ‘a naughty girl’ or anything.”

“Don't worry about that.” Felix leaned forward to rest his hands on his thighs, “You’re already on the naughty list, sweetheart.”

You gulped down the saliva accumulating in your mouth, and rushed to pick the box up. Your hands shook as you pulled the satin ribbon. The walls of the box collapsed to reveal a long, blue machine, covered from head to toe in glitter. You looked up at Felix.

“You really are the weirdly younger version of Santa huh?” You said in a shaky voice. Felix smiled—he seemed to shine when he did so.

“I’m an assistant.” He said, shifting closer to you, his eyes wavered down to your lips, “There are eight of us in total, and we go around the world each year to give out presents to children and adults alike.” He looked at the vibrator and smirked, “No matter how naughty they’ve been.”

The queasy feeling rose in your stomach once more. As hard as you tried to avert it, your gaze went to his lips again and again.

“But, I’ve caught you haven't I?” You said in a soft voice, “W-Won't you be punished or something?” Felix smiled again and shifted dangerously close this time.

“That was the plan, sweetheart.” His voice was as deep as the rumbling of the earth, “You see, I only delivered one of your precious presents.” He smirked again and his hand came up to caress your cheek, you didn't pry it off, “You still have another wish don't you?” He leaned forward and whispered, “To be fucked into next year?”

His warm breath against your neck made you shiver, you could feel his knee pushing to open your legs. Normally, this would be an abnormal situation. But it was Felix and you wanted him to do to you what the characters in your fics did to each other.

"Felix…" You sighed, tensing up as he nudged his nose into the crook of your neck. His lips soon followed, attaching to your skin and leaving warm, wet kisses. They really were as soft as they looked.

"Shush now." He mumbled, absorbed into pressing kisses down your neck, "How about I take care of you tonight, hm?"

You stayed silent. How could you tell him that you've never actually…done it?

“Felix I-” You took in a shaky breath, “I’ve never…done this before.” Felix looked up at you with widened eyes and blinked. Then he smiled gently.

“That’s alright, doll.” Doll, again, “I’ll be gentle, if you want me to.” He slipped his hand off your thigh and extended it to you, glancing at the stairs to your bedroom, “Shall we?”

Taking his hand was the best decision you had made all year.

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

Felix’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands rush to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up your waist and pulling down your shorts to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Felix pulls away ever so slightly, “Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every fic you’ve read in the past. Or maybe they’ve never had Felix’s tongue shoved into their throats.

Felix lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room before slipping a hand below your legs and picking you up, placing you gently onto the bed. Romantic, you thought.

He placed a kiss to your forehead before he started to strip himself, your gaze raked over his body as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once he was matching you in nakedness, he crawled up to your position on the mattress, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.

“Hey there, pretty.” Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Felix. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you—he just looks so pretty, with his freckles and his hair and his everything.

Dropping his head between your knees, he groaned at the sight, and bit his lip to contain himself. You wanted to cover yourself but when your legs moved even a tiny bit to hide, he spread them wider and the cool breezes from around the room slapped across your feverish cunt.

The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the afternoon glass of rum making you feel this way or just Felix, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.

“Have you ever touched yourself down here?” The way he said it, as if you were all innocent, he narrowed his eyes when you nodded yes, “Hold on.” Felix reached across and grabbed the box you had set on the bedside table. Your present.

"Used a vibrator before, sweetheart?" He asked gently, smiling when you shook your head, "That's alright, I can show you how." His voice deepened as he said the last words and you widened your eyes.

Adorable, Felix thought, as he handed you the vibrator. Albeit being momentarily confused, you nudged it onto your labia—like how the fics described.

There you were, bathed in soft moonlight, laying on your mattress naked, legs spread, and steadying the vibrator on your clit. Felix smirked to himself as he studied the way your thighs quivered when he placed his hand on top of yours

"May I, pretty?" Felix cooed, reaching for your pink vibrator. You handed it to him, laying back obediently and waiting for his ethereal touch. His freckles seemed to glow like stars in the moonlight—his face a magnificent galaxy.

And when he rested the vibrator onto your clit, you let out a relieved sigh in response, breathing out softly, lifting your hips up and grinding up against the vibrator in his grip.

"Good girl. Just lay back and relax for me," he softly directed you, his bare words were enough to send you to the edge of Heaven.

"Oh, Felix," You glanced down at his smirk and how his eyes were fixed on the way you were clenching around nothing. He loved the way your slick folds glistened in the soft lighting, and the way your breasts started to subtly bounce as you started to violently shake.

"How about we turn up the speed hm?" He mumbled, eyes lighting up when you nodded yes, unable to speak due to your current predicament. He was making you feel good—better than your fingers ever could. And better—you assumed—than any other man could.

The vibrations of the toy increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of.

That was when Felix held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot, somewhere you could never reach with your own fingers. The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but his firm hand on your shaking thigh kept you in place.

With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn him—you were too unfamiliar with the feeling of such intense pleasure that it got you overwhelmed, too overwhelmed to even speak. The blonde let out a breathy chuckle when he saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.

Your lips were fixed in an o shape, your cheeks were pink, and your brows were pinched together. You shut your eyes and threw your head back as Felix's name slipped through your slew of whimpers.

“Felix! Oh fuckk—” Your moan came straight from within your chest—a noise you didn’t even know you could make, “Felix I-” But you couldn’t finish your sentence, thanks to the almost painful feeling growing at the base of your belly.

“Shh sweetheart, it’s alright.” Felix’s voice was soothing and warm, “It’s alright, I’m here darling.” You gulped softly when Felix gripped your hip with one hand and led the buzzing vibrator deeper into your sensitive pussy. The tip of the glittery blue machine slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against his hand.

“Oh goddd—fuck fuck fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm.

You never really understood the full feeling of an orgasm, settling on it being the feeling you got when your fingers got tired of rubbing your folds. But the feeling of Felix’s face being inches from you, his eyes beautifully darkened and his hand working against your sex, you realised this was what all the fics described. A feeling like an earthquake erupting from within you.

You were right on the verge of greatness again, slowly nearing a climactic ending, when your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Felix sitting up on his knees, holding the vibrator far from your throbbing pussy. He was staring down hungrily at your thighs, a look lingered behind his eyes—a dangerous one.

Without warning, he took his middle finger and started teasing your folds with it, the vibrator now disposed on the side. Your eyes widened as he sunk his finger into your drooling cunt. For a moment, you thought about the probability of this being a glorious dream. But when his long, veiny finger pushed all the way in, a long, satisfied sigh escaped from your parted lips and you did not want this dream to end.

Your folds glistened in the dim moonlight, the obvious need evident in your tone when Felix plunged another finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping his fingers in knuckle-deep and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers. God how pretty you looked, with your shaking body covered in sweat—you glistened like diamonds in the light.

"Someone’s eager," Felix chuckled. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.

“You want me to stop, baby?” Felix’s brows furrowed worriedly at the sight of your ragged breathing. You shook your head at him and placed your hand at the back of his head, gripping his hair. Felix moaned loudly.

"Fuck sweetheart," he grinned at you as he added his ring finger, and you could feel the cold metal of his ring on the warm flesh of your thighs as he pumped them back and forth into your heat, “Fuck—keep-keep doing that…that’s right..” His voice was a bit deeper, betraying his arousal. Who knew Santa’s assistant had such a filthy kink?

Felix’s hair was feather-soft against your shaking hand, as you brought your right hand up as well to feel it. Your grip on his hair only motivated him more, as the sounds of your pussy squelching as it sucked up his fingers, filled the room. His middle finger worked immaculately against your cunt, a place you could have never reached with your fingers alone.

Felix looked magnificent as he admired your body—the crook of your neck, the soft skin of your thighs, the way your eyes rolled back—he was relishing every single thing about you. Wild, primal thoughts flanked each neuron of his mind. Felix could feel your cold breath hit his lips gently, like a cool wind moving a river.

“Shit—can I kiss you, sweetheart?” He asked cautiously, his fingers tensing inside of you when you nodded. You felt his lips press against yours, the sweet feeling of pressing candy to your mouth came to you. You could taste slight notes of rum and cranberry on his tongue—an intoxicating flavour.

He pulled away briefly, his face was still close, and he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. Your hand pulled his hair once more and he groaned deeply, his cock twitching between his legs.

Fuck, you were so gorgeous. A faux memory played out in Felix’s mind, he wanted you all to himself—in sickness and in health, till death do you part. The way your lips parted and the melodic way you said his name, he never knew his name was such an elysian thing, till he heard it from your lips.

His hot lips moved away from yours and down to your neck, kissing and gently biting the delicate skin. You let out a gasp and arched your neck, it felt so divine that you didn’t even notice that his fingers were out of your pussy and placed on your hip.

Your breasts moved into Felix’s face as you arched your back at his teeth digging into your skin like a savage animal and Felix audibly whined. His hand came up to play with your boobs, his fingers fiddling with delicate skin. His painfully hard cock grew even harder, as he wanted nothing more but to fuck the sanity out of you.

“Baby,” he breathed, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he could manage when he was this overstimulated, “Sweetheart, don’t you want my cock?,” he whispered again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you.

“Lix…” You whine, you could see his rock-hard length between his legs, “Lix—need your cock–please please pleeasee…” Felix was undone by you—the way you writhed underneath him, the way your voice shook, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed—he could feel it and he loved it.

“Alright… alright, doll.” He chuckled, gripping your hips in order to align himself with you. He was big–huge even–it made you a bit nervous. You knew from your non-virgin friends that–at most, it was only 4 or 5 inches, without all that ego. You didn’t have a ruler but you knew that Felix was much more than 5 inches.

What a way to lose your virginity.

“Ah-ahhh fuck!” You nearly screamed as he entered you, Felix didn’t like teasing–and by God were you thankful for that.

“You like that baby?” Felix grunted, his voice was oh so deep–as was his length, “Yeah, you like being stretched out huh?” His right hand was underneath you now, squeezing your buttcheek like his own personal stress toy, “Naughty, naughty girl—ah godddd” Felix was a moaning, whimpering mess, the sound of you making him feel lightheaded as he pounded into you, “Should have known you were a dirty girl when I saw that list–oh fuck, keep squeezing me like that—that’s a good girl…” Your slick walls were clenching around him like a vice, and he knew he was done for.

You could only moan in response, reeling in the way his cock stretched out your walls, the sting being nothing compared to the bliss you felt as he relentlessly fucked you.

"so fucking pretty, taking me like this, so so pretty" Felix continued, rambling.

"mphm, Felix, you're so big!" You moaned, thinking nothing of it as you spoke, his size being the only thing in your mind at that moment. His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure, pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.

"You're so tight," he whispered, relishing in the way you clenched around him while it started to adjust itself. The pain was killing you, but at the same time–you wanted more.

No, wanted wasn't the right word.

You needed more.

“You’re almost all the way in ,darling” Felix whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. He knew it was your first time—those adorable eyes, that filthy mouth of yours begging him for more—but he resisted, lest he hurt you.

“Oh Felix fuckkkk..” Your eyes opened to look at him. He was beautiful, an angel in his own right, moon-like eyes and a face full of constellations. No wonder, you couldn't stop yourself from falling into him.

Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Felix’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his scent that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Felix inched his cock into you, the more he pressed onto your g-spot, and the more it started to make you see stars whenever you blinked. You grew so sensitive that you felt every throb Felix’s cock is giving you.

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please Lix...” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well." he praised you softly while he delivered a few harder thrusts, "Can't believe this is your first dick," Soon, there was no pain at all, only pleasure.

Your eyes rolled back briefly as Felix hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan from your chest.

You felt your pussy expanding around him as he started rocking his hips back and forth, hitting that same spot again. You held your breath for a moment, still adjusting to the size difference, and when you exhaled, a few stifled sounds came through. It hurt so good.

He grabbed you by your waist, steadying himself while he started to speed up, getting caught up in how good your virgin hole felt wrapped around him. Felix watched as he pumped back and forth, fixating on the way you coated his length in your arousal.

You couldn't help but groan at the change in tempo, head craning back into the pillow, your mouth slung wide open.

“Felix oh god!!” You whined, your walls were so sensitive, “Fuck, you’re so hot..” You had no idea what words were coming out from your mouth, “Ahh—ahhh fucking hell—I love you!” You wouldn't even remember saying those words until the next day. Felix’s eyes visibly softened at you.

"Say it again for me, darling?" He slowed his pace, but increased his temperament, his hips slapping against yours with a sting as he thrust in and out of you, slow and hard.

“I–ah shit!” You gasped, his scent was your oxygen, “I love you..”

“I love you too, baby.” Felix leaned forward to kiss you. Your lips danced passionately, even as your bodies stayed connected to each other. His lips felt like first snow and soft ice cream, you wanted to devour and be devoured by him.

“Look at you, you sweet little thing...” He teased as he grinded his cockhead into your sweet spot, slowly sliding in and out just to feel your wetness coat his dick. It’s pure nirvana for him, warm and wet and perfect, a place he could bury himself inside.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and frustration building within you. You clenched your fists, digging your nails into the mattress, as Felix continued to move at a pace that was maddeningly fast.

“Going dumb on my dick aren't you baby?” he groans as his hips slap into yours, bruising your walls and using you, his cock is throbbing inside you, balls twitching and voice falling more breathy and desperate—so close to filling your pretty little pussy up.

"Cum with me, baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl." Felix said through gritted teeth, his tone somehow still soft and caring despite his pace.

“Oh god…Felix!” You moaned, “fuck fuck fuck need your c-cum please—oh my god.” Every muscle felt like fire. You’re caught up in how everything feels, too distracted to care about the noises spilling out of your mouth. All you know is this feels good – it feels passionate.

As if on command, his last, hard thrust sent you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you released sticky juices all over his length, the squelching sound of him fucking you through your toe curling orgasm making him reel.

With another cry of release, you shattered again and again it seemed, your body arching as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Felix held you tightly, his fingers digging into your side as you trembled in his arms.

He was seconds behind, filling you up with his cum, fucking it into you as he stuttered above you, pressing his weight further down as he gripped and tugged at any skin of yours he could reach.

“That’s it, that’s it baby.” He worked you through your toe-curling orgasm, "That's it my love, you’re doing so good for me.”

Your breathless moans filled the room as he stilled inside you, letting his cum soak into your walls and his length, unable to bring himself to pull out. His hand came to your hair as he rested his head against yours, trying to catch his breath with fluttery eyes. You leaned into his touch, humming at his soft caress.

“Good girl,” Felix murmurs, being careful in the way he pulls out slowly from your well-used hole. You shudder, and Felix feels the way your entire body tenses, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, darling.”

Your chests heaved with exertion. In spite of his softening cock, Felix couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when he saw the sight of your mixed release trickling out of your pussy.

“Ahh shit.” He mumbles, rolling over to collapse next to you. Felix feels something touching the sole of his foot, and when he looks down, he chuckles, making you look at him.

“What happened?” You ask drowsily, your eyes on the verge of falling asleep.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart.” Felix assures you, pushing the cum-soaked vibrator at the bottom of the bed onto the floor, “Are you alright, baby?”

“That–” You breathe in deeply and smile with your eyes still closed, “—was the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart.” Felix smiles, pulling you safely into his arms, as you drifted off to sleep.

Felix sighed and melted into your warmth. He had to leave in a few hours to deliver all the other gifts, but a few more minutes wouldn't hurt and so he stayed.

After all, he’d be coming back on New Years as well.

With a much better present.

Thank you for reading, dear reader! Hope you have a great day ❤❤

491 notes · View notes

catbolt · 7 months ago

Text

— PRETTY

[SOUNDTRACK] Pretty - The Weeknd || ▶︎

Sylus doesn't take breakups lying down. Well... maybe lying on top of you.

[TAGS] sylus x female mc, angst, smut, rough sex, ex-boyfriend!Sylus, cheating (with him) (on Zayne eek), dubcon sorta, choking, Evol, mentions of blood, glasses sylus bc it's soooo hot

[A/N] my debut fic for LADS (have not written for genuinely years so forgive any rustiness, first time doing any smut also, so i was frankly a bit light with it.) More angst than smut tbh as that is my comfort zone hehe. 100% inspired by "pretty" by the weeknd from my sylus playlist

plz reblog and share or comment if you want! Feel free to leave any thoughts or feedback as this is my first time writing in a while :)

[WC] 5.1k

songfic 1/?

Sylus’ call comes unexpectedly. As his calls always did, but especially this time, considering the last time they talked she had cursed him out and damn near trashed his house, saying she was done, telling him to delete her number. He had sat on the couch with an impassive stare, arms crossed, legs splayed leisurely, completely silent. This had just enraged her even further, and she had thrown a pillow at him, desperate for some kind of reaction. He had caught it and set it down next to him calmly, continuing to refuse to give her even a morsel of proof he cared.

Whatever the two of them had had, it was over. She thought she had made that extremely clear. So her eyebrows furrow in confusion and annoyance when his name comes up on her phone screen. Sylus wouldn’t be the type to beg for her back, so what could he possibly be calling her for? Especially when he knew she was going on an out of town mission?

Especially when he knew Zayne was on this mission with her?

Against her better judgment, she accepts the call and leans back in her chair in her hotel room, mouth drawing into an irritated grimace. “What.”

The line crackles with his dark, familiar laughter. “Hello to you too.” “Talk,” she spits.

“I’m on a flight,” he says. “To where you are. I’ll be landing in an hour. Let’s see each other.”

“I don’t think so,” she retorts immediately, seething at his audacity-- how he could possibly be calling her right now as if what had happened last week was nothing.

“Ah. Let me rephrase. That wasn’t a question,” he says sternly. “I will be seeing you when I land. Consider this a courtesy heads-up.”

“You don’t know where I am,” she responds. “I am not seeing you. It’s late and I have work tomorrow.” “Don’t piss me off.” He snarls. “I don’t like being underestimated. I obviously know exactly where you are.”

She grits her teeth, realizing she should have anticipated that, but quickly regains her composure. She’s used to the back and forth with him. “Don’t tell me you came all this way to see me.” “Of course not,” he says coldly. “I’m here on business. I just happen to have a free night.” His voice softens. “And I’d like to spend it with you.”

Her hands curl into fists. “Don’t act like I didn’t tell you to your face to never contact me again. What the hell are you doing?”

Sylus doesn’t respond for a moment, and then the silence is broken with his chuckle. “You didn’t block me. So it seems you weren’t as adamant about that as you acted.”

Her cheeks redden with shame. He’s obviously right, she didn’t block him-- something had stopped her, even though she knew she should have. In the back of her mind, she had maybe fantasized about him calling her desperately, apologizing, begging for her back, and her crushing his hopes coldly like he had done to her so many times before.

“It doesn’t matter. You know I’m with Zayne now,” she says matter-of-factly. “You have no right to see me. I’m with somebody else.”

“I said don’t piss me off,” he bites, the simmer of irritation beginning to seep into his voice. It gives her a shiver of satisfaction knowing that she’s able to get under his skin even just a little. She leans into the receiver. “In fact, I was just on my way to his place now. It was a long day... we definitely both need to rest up together.”

The line falls quiet, and then Sylus finally replies, voice icy and measured. “You can’t possibly think I’m buying that, are you? Please, princess. I told you I’ll be there in an hour. Doll yourself up for me. I’ll take you out.”

The line drops. She scoffs, shaking her head. She’s pissed that he saw through her lie about Zayne-- he’s still working late, and there’s no way she’ll be seeing him tonight. She wonders what gave it away. Was it that he’s got men spying on them, or was it that her voice betrayed a hint of halfheartedness when she lied?

Her heart thuds, and her mind snaps back to the situation at hand. One hour. She sits still in the seat, completely unsure of her next move. Deep down she knows whether she likes it or not, Sylus will be on her doorstep right when he said he would. It’d be fruitless to attempt to escape him when he has eyes everywhere. So her plan... should be to fend him off.

Her resolve was always weak when it came to that, but she tries to steel herself, taking deep breaths, recounting all the times he had ignored her, pushed her aside, forgotten about her. She tries to channel that resentment into a cold hard shell around her. She won’t be weak again. Not now. Not when she’s found someone good and kind who’s shown her that she’s worth time and effort. She won’t “doll herself up” for him. It’s her turn to show she doesn’t care.

The hour ticks by in a second, and there’s a steady knock on her door. Her heart sinks-- she had hoped that somehow his plans would have been foiled by some unexpected flight delay, but he was right on time as always. She sits still on the corner of her bed, unmoving.

“Don’t make me pick the lock,” he chides softly. His voice is muffled through the wood, but the gleam of amusement shines through. She buries her face in her palms for a moment, and then slowly walks up to open the door just a crack.

He pushes it fully open with a strong hand, smirk playing on his lips already as he looks down at her. “Still in your uniform,” he chides. “You want to wear that?”

“You are not taking me out.” She responds coldly, turning to walk over and sit at the coffee table again, not meeting his gaze. She needs to maintain distance.

“If you’d rather stay here, we could make that work.” Sylus shuts the door quietly behind him and then leans his back against it, posture casual in a way that sends a spike of annoyance through her. This is why they broke up in the first place-- he was always so motherfucking casual about everything, even her, face betraying not a sliver of his true feelings.

“What do you even want from me?” She snaps, eyes glued to the coffee table. Anything to avoid looking at him. “I told you I’m with someone else. I’m not interested in restarting anything with you.”

“When did I say anything about that?” He chuckles, clearing the room in a few swift strides and sitting on the loveseat opposite her. He’s wearing a casual sweater and sweatpants-- even his glasses, which he usually doesn’t. His hair is mussed up a bit, and she notices light bags under his eyes that give her pause. Something’s definitely up. She doesn’t know what, but doesn’t want to ask. She can’t invite more conversation if her goal is to get him out of this room.

“I just want to take you out,” he murmurs, head now resting in his hand. “Is that a crime?” “Yes, when I’m spoken for by another man, it is.” She glares at him. “What about me being with someone else do you not understand?” “Does he make you feel pretty?” Sylus drawls, red eyes flickering with a hint of contempt. Her breath catches slightly, not anticipating the question. “What--”

“Does he?” Sylus pushes, leaning forward in his seat. “Does he make you feel beautiful?” “I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“No.” he cuts her off. “He doesn’t.”

She’s stunned into silence. He leans back again, chuckling and pushing up his glasses, a motion that unfortunately sends a familiar fire coursing down her body, through her chest to her abdomen. “You didn’t fight me when I came in. You didn’t yell, or tell me to leave. That tells me all I need to know, love.”

“Don’t call me that,” she sneers back.

Suddenly Sylus’ hand is gripping her chin hard, forcing her head to meet his eyes. He’s closer than she had realized, his eyes staring deep into her own. “He can’t make you feel this pretty,” Sylus rumbles, his thumb tracing her jaw, expression an inscrutable mask.

In a moment, she finds herself sprawled out on the hotel bed before she can think. His Evol-- he can throw her around how he pleases, she reminds herself, mind flashing with memories she’s tried to forget of all the compromising positions her body’s been twisted into at his whim. He’s standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed across his chest as he looks down at her. She feels the heat of his gaze like two laser pointers as they examine her, lingering on every part of her. It's as if she’s under a scientist’s microscope. His gaze is unfeeling, but still somehow red-hot, and she can’t help the way her chest heaves up and down, feeling so observed.

He takes note of her body’s involuntary reaction. “He can’t make you feel like this by just looking at you, can he doll?”

“Fuck you,” she barks, face flushed with shame as she backs up on the bed, increasing the distance between the two. He smirks. “You’d like to?”

She rolls her eyes. “Is that what you’re here for? Sex?”

“No,” he muses, sitting down at the corner of the bed, looking at her. “Though I’m not opposed. I wanted to see you. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Her breath is coming out ragged. She can’t hide her anger much longer. “How are you acting like nothing happened? We--I-- I don’t love you! I don’t want you! What about that is so hard for you to understand?”

“Liar,” he hums in a sing-song tone, brow quirking as he meets your harsh stare cooly. “I don’t understand it because it’s a lie, sweetie. If I touched you right now your body would tell me the truth. But I already know it.” His face is smug. She wants to slap him.

“Just-- just because I might still be attracted to you doesn’t mean I would ever do anything with you again, Sylus. I have morals,” she spits.

In a red flash, he’s on top of her, a finger pressed into the center of her chest, other hand braced on the headboard. Her body convulses involuntarily in shock of his sudden proximity as well as the feeling of his skin-- even just his fingertip-- pressed against her.

He grins at her reaction. “That’s my girl.”

“Get the fuck off me,” she hisses up at him. He lowers himself so his lips touch her earlobe, so his chest is pressed against hers. “No,” he whispers simply.

At this distance, she can see even more strikingly the weariness in his features. His skin is rough. His eyes are tired. There’s a small pimple on his cheek, a hint at the fact he must have been skipping his skincare routine that he’s always been so adamant about staying on top of.

For a moment she relishes in the thought that his undone-ness is because of her. Her instincts get the better of her, and she ensnares a fist in his sweater, pulling him down even lower, tilting her head to whisper in his ear, now--

“You look like shit. Are you sad about me?”

He reels back in surprise, eyes clouding for the first time with something other than smugness, brows momentarily twitching, betraying his facade. His hand wraps around her throat, holding her into the pillow, the touch gentle but forceful. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds her steady. His mask is on before she can double back.

“Can’t a man have an off day?” he chides her. “Maybe I haven’t slept so well. I was just on a long flight. Sue me.”

“Doesn’t look like it was just a day,” she responds instantly. “Looks like an off month. Are you finally regretting being a dick?”

He sneers, hand twitching around her throat, but he remains gentle. “I’m not a dick.”

“You are a huge fucking dick,” she spits back. He leans back off her, rising into a kneeling position, smirking down at her, releasing his hand from her neck It’s then she realizes she’s been holding her breath even though he hadn’t been choking her.

“Then why are you still lying here under me? If I’m such a dick?”

“You’re just gonna use your Evol to put me back. It’s no use fighting you,” she retorts, but inwardly she knows she could have at least tried to struggle, shame rising in her stomach.

“I’m not buying that, sweetheart.” He absentmindedly hooks a finger in the top of her uniform and pops the top button open with one hand. Her face flushes involuntarily at the gesture. “W-what are you doing?”

“Seeing how long it’ll take you to shove me off. If you really do hate me so much as you say.” He murmurs, finger sliding down to pop open another button.

Her body freezes, her breath stilting into uneven inhales and exhales. It’s as if Sylus’ Evol is pinning her down, restraining her movement, but he isn’t-- he’s barely restraining her, only his finger on her body now, wrapping in the cleft of her shirt and undoing yet another button. Yet she can’t find the strength to move, eyes hazing over with the familiar lust she’s always had for him, and something further-- adoration, as she watches his face concentrated on her body. Even in this disheveled state he radiates, makes her heart swell against her will, beat hard and insistently like it’s pressing up against her ribs.

“Good girl,” he whispers, leaning down slowly to kiss at her jaw, lips warm and soft. She chokes back a sigh, clenching her teeth at his touch but still inexplicably unable to move. “You know you want this.” She doesn’t respond, grappling with herself, memories of Zayne rearing, his soft and measured touches, in contrast to Sylus’ raw aggression. Finally, hearing Zayne’s voice in her head, she snaps herself out of her paralysis, hand coming up to push Sylus back, palm flat against his chest. “W-wait.”

He stops, eyes searching her face silently. “I--I--” she stammers, eyes wide, not able to get any words out.

“Shh,” he murmurs, tracing a thumb across her lips. “I won’t make you ssay it.” He focuses on her, and then she feels heat flood her senses, a key sign he’s using his Evol again, in the other way. Her vision darkens, and she knows here, in this quiet black place he’s taking her, she can’t hide from him. It’s a place where she can only be honest. She feels her back arch as the feelings burst out of her-- I need it, I need you, make me yours, I miss you-- she feels a pang of relief that he’s removed the burden from her of saying it, of forcing her to betray herself, betray Zayne, out loud. But the shame eats away at her, corrosive like acid, as she looks into Sylus’ eyes, watching them glimmer as they decipher her hidden thoughts.

Sylus focuses, attuned to her mind and body, feeling the words of her consciousness rush in as if uttered directly into his ears, proving what he already knew-- that he still has her wrapped around his finger. “Let me have you,” he purrs, fingers wrapping around yet another button.

Her resolve crumbles with her deepest desires surfaced by his Evol. He makes work quickly of the rest of the buttons, tearing open her shirt, exposing her bra. He growls at the sight, eyes narrowing.

“You want this... don’t you?”

Her response is choked in her throat, but manages to slip out despite her better judgment. “Yes,” she moans, and that’s all he needs to hear. His mouth meets her collarbone, sucking attentively. “Good,” he murmurs between kisses. “I’m not fond of sharing, you know.”

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she mutters, her body’s reaction to him involuntary (or so she convinces herself.) “I’m still not... your girlfriend, or anything like that. I don’t even like you.”

“Who said anything about you being my girlfriend?” He mutters, mouth working over her neck now. He smiles into her skin. “Ah. Do you think I came here to get you to be my girlfriend again?”

“No.” She snaps, blushing furiously, her hands landing on his arms that are braced on top of the mattress as he leans over her. “I didn’t say that. I’m just reiterating what should already be beyond clear to you.” “I’ll tell you what’s clear to me,” he murmurs, pulling back for a second, his deep blood-red eyes boring into hers. “What’s clear is... this Zayne guy doesn’t seem to be able to handle this beautiful gift he’s been given, and it seems like this gift herself knows she isn’t being cared for properly. Enjoyed properly.” He hooks a finger into her bra strap. “Or else it wouldn’t have taken her only five minutes to crumble.”

“I’m not going back to you,” she spits out.

“You never left,” he says softly, a half smile rising on his chapped lips.

Suddenly she’s being flipped onto her back, her face smothered in the pillow below her, the sensation of a cold hand gripping the back of her neck, fingers encircling it with practiced ease. His weight presses her down, pins her deep into the blankets. With his other hand he deftly unlatches her bra from the back, and then tugs off her pants, leaving her exposed with just her underwear on. She whimpers, feeling the air smooth over her hot skin.

“He doesn’t do this for you, does he?” Sylus drawls, an arm snaking under her hips to pull her upward on her knees, his other hand still pressing her head and neck into the pillow. Her cheeks burn at this new position, knowing how vulnerable and bare she is. She stays silent, a flicker of anger mixing with desire.

He roughly yanks down her panties, and before long she feels a calloused thumb between her wet folds. She bites into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar warmth of pleasure surges over her. She curses herself internally for letting herself become so pliant, so weak in his hands.

“Seems like I’ve got my answer,” he mutters, thumb pressing against her clit. She bites back a groan, teeth impaling her bottom lip. She can hear his usually stoic voice growing thicker and deeper with his own building arousal, a sound which only makes her feel weaker.

“Now sweetheart, I don’t have much time.” He bends down by her ear, leaning over her, hot breath sending a shiver down her body. “I’d love to take care of you slowly, bit by bit, but I wasn’t joking when I said I was here on business. I have some pressing matters to take care of that need my attention, after this... matter right here.” He slaps her ass, hard. She yelps, drawing a rough chuckle from his throat.

“I only have time for one round, unfortunately, so I’m going to ask for your input.” He purrs into her ear. “Don’t say anything else-- just be good, and answer my question. I don’t have time for your backtalk.” The flat of his hand smooths over the spot he slapped, sending bolts of heat through her abdomen.

“Fingers, my mouth... or all of me inside you. Choose.”

She tastes the tang of blood from where she’d bitten her lip earlier as she opens her mouth to speak, voice hoarse. She whispers something unintelligible into the pillow.

“Speak up, love,” he murmurs, gently easing up his hold on the back of her neck.

“All of you...” she mutters, embarrassment making her cringe, face pressed into the side of her pillow.

Suddenly Sylus spots her bleeding lip, and his brows furrow for a moment. His hands scoop her up so that she’s positioned up off the pillow, on her knees, his chest to her back and arms securely around her waist. He uses one hand to tilt her chin up and to the side. “You’re bleeding, honey. Bit your lip?”

“What does it look like,” she responds gruffly, still not wanting to give him the pleasure of agreeable answers. His thumb skates across her bottom lip, dabbling in the blood there. She winces. “Were you trying to be quiet?” he murmurs, examining his thumb that’s now flecked with her blood.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead, leaning down to kiss her softly, the metallic acrid tang of blood mixing between both their tongues. “Don’t do that,” he whispers softly into her lips. “I don’t want you to be quiet. You know that’s not what I like.”

The moment is more intimate than the previous ones they’ve shared tonight, and for a moment she softens a bit, her heart giving an uncomfortable fluttery lurch at his kiss, at his gently murmured words. But the moment is gone quickly, and his hand finds the back of her neck again, fingers pressing into her skin. “Remind me of your choice?” He says through clenched teeth.

“All.. all of you...” she says through a soft gasp. His face is so close to hers that all she can see is the slope of his jaw and a burning eye that’s trained on her bottom lip.

He nods curtly, and then lays her back into the mattress, her face finding the pillow again, her back arching as he nudges her knees further apart, his own legs coming between hers. As she hears the sound of his belt buckle unfastening and his low, deep breaths, she feels the shame and regret already churning in her stomach as she lies there, spread and prostrate, waiting.

“Don’t think about him,” Sylus says darkly, as if he’s reading her mind. She feels his large, muscular hands grip her waist, as if to steady her mind, to bring her back to earth, back to this moment. “He’s not here right now. Think about me.”

She stifles a moan as his fingers drift between her legs again, spreading her wide open. Her throat feels tight, and her entire body is covered in goosebumps. She trembles in anticipation, unable to deny the feeling.

“He won’t make you feel this pretty,” Sylus snarls, his hand returning to her hips, digging into the flesh. His voice is angry this time, and then her eyes blow wide as he sheaths himself completely inside her in one sharp thrust. A strangled sound tears itself from her throat, a sound she hasn’t made in a long time. He stays there, back hunching over her, his arms shaking, his knuckles white as his fingers press bruises into the skin of her waist and hips.

He starts, his pace brutal, and she can immediately detect something in the way he thrusts, in the way his hands are so rough as they move up to her breasts, gripping her from behind. Rage. His hips snap against her, sending nearly painful daggers of pleasure through her belly. She gasps each time he pistons in and out of her, unable to see him behind her, face still pressed into the pillow. “He can’t make you feel beautiful like this..” Sylus spits between grunts as he buries himself deep, again, again, again...

“Sylus,” she chokes out, eyes hazy with pleasure, the world around her vignetting, falling dramatically out of focus. “I want to see you-- let me turn over--” she babbles.

He pulls out with a harsh grunt, and then flips her over onto her back at her request. She takes him in fully now, eyes raking over him, torso bare and sweater discarded on the nearby couch, his pants at his knees, his face contorted in a mess of lust and fury, glasses slipping lower and lower on his nose. It might be the most upset she’s ever seen him look, even more upset than when they’d broken up.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says harshly, gripping her hips again and aligning himself with her dripping entrance.

“Like what--ah!” She hisses as he enters her, cutting the conversation short. He resumes his unrelenting pace, coming down to his elbows, inches of space between them as he ruts into her.

“Like you’re fucking examining me--” he sneers between thrusts. She protests, her hands finding his shoulders as she’s pulled deeper and deeper into pleasure. “I’m not examining-- hah... I’m just looking at y-”

His hand clamps over her mouth. “Don’t talk,” he snarls. Her eyes widen. Something’s snapped in him, his demeanor different, whatever cold exterior he’d managed to build cracking undeniably now, revealing the twisted feelings layered underneath. His muscles ripple with unrestrained emotions, and sweat beads on his brow as he snaps his hips into her.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he mutters. “I don’t want to hear that I look like shit. I don’t want to hear you ask me why I’m angry as if it’s some fucking surprise to you.” With each thrust it’s somehow more intense, the friction and heat between them growing exponentially. Her hands find his hips as he pistons into her, scrambling for purchase on flesh that’s now slick with sweat. “Of course I’m fucking angry,” he hisses. They’re face to face, inches apart. “I’m angry that-- you’re gone-- I can’t--” he lets out a strained noise that sounds almost like he’s in pain, his abs clenching as he holds himself back. “He can’t make you feel like this... he can’t...”

His hand is still clamped over her mouth, and she breathes through her nose, the restriction of air making her heart speed up with adrenaline. He fucks her deep, and it takes more of a toll on him than she knows it should. The way he’s sweating, the way his face is still twisted with anger and anguish and desire, the way his free hand grips her waist possessively as he ruts into her-- it’s not the physical exertion making him act like this. He’s genuinely upset in a way that he’s never let her see before. “Sylus,” she pants, her orgasm building deep in her core, like a coil of fire. As if the noise triggers his memory that his hand is still over her mouth, he removes it suddenly, holding her waist instead. He looks away briefly, eyes finding where their bodies connect instead, eyes black with lust as he thrusts into her. She can see the way he’s starting to go quiet, the way his rhythm is staggering. She knows he’s close too.

“Do you still love me?” He blurts out, still not meeting her eyes.

She doesn’t expect the question, and she doesn’t know how to respond. She evaluates a thousand possible answers at once, her brain overloaded with pleasure and confusion.

His head falls, weak, as he continues rutting into her. “P-please...” he says, his voice breaking.

She’s stunned. Almost as a reflex, she sits up a bit, gaze lacing with a newfound concern. “Sy...?”

“Say it,” he groans, his pace becoming more erratic, the unpredictability of it driving new spikes of pleasure through her. “Say you--”

“I love you,” she whispers softly, before she can stop herself. “I love you, Sylus.”

His body hunches over as he comes, as if on command at her words, and her own orgasm follows quickly, her hands seizing the sheets for a moment in a brutal grip before latching on his waist again. She gasps, holding him close, her legs instinctively wrapping around him as she feels his warmth fill her, feels his body jerk with exertion and pleasure. Her hands find his face, cupping his jaw as he weakly thrusts himself through the aftershocks, his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself upright over her.

The moment flickers with a liminal quality, and she feels like she’s trapped in limbo, some hellish purgatory of confused emotions. She’s said those words she can’t take back now, and now the two of them are floating in the dead space, less than lovers, a lot more than friends. He’s weak in her arms now, completely undone, whatever mask he once wore in pieces, ground to dust under the weight of her confession. He lies there atop her for a minute that feels like an hour, as she strokes his hair, confused by her own tenderness but unable to hold it back. And then he tears himself away from her. He’s buttoning his pants, pulling on his sweater, wiping a wrist across his brow and readjusting his glasses. It’s as if they hadn’t done what they just did, like they’re strangers again. She lies there almost in shock still, attempting to cut through the foggy haze of afterglow and form more coherent thoughts.

“I have to go,” he mutters under his breath, his voice still betraying some of the turmoil in him. It’s softer than he usually sounds, and more uncertain.

At his words, she snaps out of it. “Wait,” she blurts. “We-- we need to talk about this. You can’t just go after that!”

“I have to.” He says quickly, organizing his messy hair in the mirror. “Don’t have time.”

“Don’t have the time?!” She says incredulously. “You can’t treat this like some one night stand!”

“I never said that,” he mutters, looking at her. His eyes drift down her body, to her entrance, staring at the evidence of their encounter. She flushes, clamping her legs shut. Sylus clears his throat. “I never said it was,” he repeats. “I... I’ll call you. We can talk later.”

“When later?” she says hoarsely.

“When I can,” he replies, tone smoother now, regaining his usual impassioned quality. She notices, and it pisses her off. “You can’t just do what you always do,” she snaps. “You can’t just run away again and act cold. Like this doesn’t matter.”

He pauses in the doorway, and exhales a small sigh. “It matters,” he says quietly.

And then he’s gone.

#cat writes ✩#sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #qin che #cat writes #sylus qin #lads fanfic #lads smut #lads angst #sylus angst #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus smut #songfics

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