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emacrow · 3 months ago

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Welcome to the Starlight Toy Galore! Temporary close for the day!

Danny could only blush heavily in his ghost form. His brightened green eyes watched Jazz pick out an outfit for his date. Ellen looked at the deep blue colored scarf before throwing it to the aside to the pile of rejected other colored scarfs.

"Now you have the braille menu that Tucker sent you of the restaurant, right? Remember to take your black bandana if your eyes get irritated again. Sam, you missed a chibi toy on the right side of his hair." Jazz spoke as she was judging two different colored turtleneck with narrowed eyes.

To Danny's eyes, the bright colors felt normal in his ghost form compared to the black abyss in his human form beside the luminous foggy shapes of ghosts, spirits, souls, demons and faes in his sights.

He can still remember the horrifying shock in mom's and dad's eyes was the last thing he ever saw as the pure excruciating pain sizzle in his eyes as they were showing the Fenton Ghost On Sight double Blaster that will reveal any ghosts hiding invisible to the human eyes and unfortunately locked onto him once again and blasted directly into his eyes.

Waking up in a hospital bed only to see nothing at all was pure panicked, being touched by something or someone hugging him was worse, especially when he couldn't see a god damn thing, only to see ember's head appears was when he realized something immediately.

He couldn't see anything at all except Ghosts. It didn't stop there as he saw a dashing tiny being with wings stealing a cube of sugar, a red parasite bug whispering to some junkie that he pummeled into paste the wall, and a wild spirit messing around from the very black shape form of a person that he couldn't see before sneaking back in their form.

Jazz told him about her telling Mom and Dad the truth about him while he was in a privates hospital room thanks to Sam, Dad actually broken down and Mom couldn't stop staring down at her hands as she had been the one to do the example on the double blaster.

Two month of him still unconscious after that event, and thanks to Frostbite being brought to heal him, Along side teaching mom and dad his needs as it seem he can see in his ghost form, but not in his alive human form.

He couldn't see the damage of his eyes in his ghost form. Only his eyes were much green with much paler pupil, but apparently, what Tucker descriptive of his eyes were his pupil went brighter then a rainbow pearl that cause his iris to go from deep blue to a much paler icy blue.

The struggle was intensely real after he left the hospital, especially now handicapped and kept bumping into everything and every wall, Cujo thankfully helping him along with his new blind cane. Kitty and Johnny 13 actually helped him out, considering Kitty had a cousin who was born blind.

He couldn't be the astronaut that he wanted to be, especially when now he was blind. He was so down in his own depression state upon realizing that It took Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Ellen, and shocking, Dash dragged him, caving himself into his room after 5 months in. His hair was the length of his waist after that, but he didn't cut it since he didn't trust his dad or Jazz to cut his hair again.

They brought him to a great museum with an audio speakers for blind people like him, wandering the halls with glimpses of soul spirits embezzling in their masterpiece, even some in old toys on display, and accidentally finding himself into a kid's crafts their art room upon hearing the sounds of a crying child.

He couldn't see what they were crying, but he could see the well loved toy that was a Raggedy Andy doll so bright with a joyous old soul spirit of a elderly lady with plush separated arm on the floor.

Danny helped clumsily tie the doll's arm back in place with the help of that soul spirit whispering in his ear about which thread is tied where and tighten up.

He wouldn't know it but feeling the warmth glowing off a child's inner joyful spirit playfully peaking out the shell that was a human.

Danny felt a new dream born before his sightless eyes. He ended up fixing beloved toys here and there in Amity Park, then word got out after he made a beautiful music box that has a dancing ballerina in her box for a sweet grandma who was a retired Principal Dancer due to her torn achilles tendon after Danny saw how down her spirit mumbling how she wished to dance in the opera once last time.

A fix here, donated parts, threads, fabrics, buttons, cotton full of lonely spirits there, rebuild a lost dream of spirits all around all for 1 tiny trade each. He didn't know that the people he helped have been collectively anonymous a goFundme in Amity parks for him after he spoke about wanting to make a space theme toy shop and repair.

Danny would be 26 year old before he decided to invest in a building after going through a gigantic tsunami of customer wanting him to fix their old toys, plushy or antiques.

Danny had to change his last name due to the fact that nobody wouldn't let him rent a building nearly as far as new Jersey, much less a shop after hearing his last name being Fenton. Getting a cozy shop in a gotham full of saturated Ectoplasm was a wise choice.

It would be 3 months later meeting a lady with a soul spirit more wild peaking out of her body in a wheelchair who made his heart skip several slow beats after doing that Ashidon motion against the parenting section bookshelf even though her real body is still at the public library's counter.

7 months in of being befriended and compliments Babs Gordon, while her dominating spirit is nearly crossing the line. obviously flirting to him alongside whispering about how she loves to pull his silky hair again to hear him make that cute whine. If only people and ghosts could see the patient and restrain he had on himself, he would've probably already passed out again from the blood rushing to his head that day.

He learned many things about Babs, even though her wild spirit is dancing, showing off martial art techniques seductively, and talking the many many ways she can take him out that made Danny feel his heart about to stop.

Ellen, his sweet clone daughter, apparently was the first to say something about his most obvious crush on Babs and helped him practice, even though he failed miserable at the result. He got a date tonight.

Hopefully, everything goes well..

Part 2 link <-

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny is the ghost king #elderitch danny phantom #blind danny #backstory #he is blind but can see Supernatural beings #and living spirits of people #danny the toymaker #toys aren't really toys but memoirs of love ones #Data Ghost #bab must never know what her living spirit dressed as Girl Robin is seductively saying to danny or else she'll die from embarrassment #danny may be obvious but he can clearly see how babs thinks of him

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obito-in-disguise · 8 months ago

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| Arranged marriage! Itachi x reader |

Itachi's secret is out.

<<Prev

“tachi! tachi!” ever since she informed him of her boss’s atrocious actions, Itachi had spaced out in anger. His mind was running a million miles an hour thinking of all the horrible things he was going to do to that boss of hers for laying a finger on his wife.

“Itachi!” his eyes snap back to hers, he didn’t realize he had zoned out. He takes in a deep breath grasping her shoulders and pulling her closer.

“He did what?”

“He touched me…here” her hand reaches up to the collar of her button up shirt, pulling the fabric aside to show her cleavage. What he saw made Itachi’s face flush with white hot anger, a large bruise in the hazy shape of a man’s handprint marked her right breast.

“He groped my chest so I hit him but it hurt my hand and then...” Itachi had stopped listening at this point, his rage deafening him.

He jumps to feet without sparing another minute, grabbing his cloak and storming towards the door.

His destination? Her office. His mission? To teach the head of the intelligence department a lesson on respecting women. She didn’t need to be told, Y/N knew exactly what Itachi was going to do and as much as she would love to see Itachi pummel the sleeze that touched her, there were things at stake.

“Itachi please don’t! I’ll lose my job!” she chases after him frantically as he crosses the distance to the front door in long strides.

“Stay here” the look on his face is murderous, it doesn’t leave any room for argument.

She sits on the step of the foyer in resignation and panic, she was totally going to lose her job which contrary to popular opinion, she didn’t get through her connections to her grandfather but through her hard work.

She already socked her boss in the face this afternoon and now, her husband was on his way to fold him in half as well. Great just great. She had clawed her way to her current position at work, it took years of enduring slander and proving herself to reach the level she has now.

She knew the man had harassed her, and that there was no reason for her to want to keep it on the low. But, the sad reality is that things rarely go well for victims of work place harassment when they speak out against their aggressor.

The entire room was in chaos, papers were strewn around, furniture scattered and the workers of the intelligence department left in shock as they watched the famed Uchiha Itachi of the anbu walk into their office calmly, and dislocate their boss’ jaw with a punch that sent the intoxicated man halfway across the room.

A collection of gasps and screams could be heard as his body crashes through furniture and eventually skidds to a stop. Itachi simply steps over the furniture and objects in his path before heading towards his target again.

By this time, the remaining workers left in the office are yelling for Itachi to stop while others leave to get help. Itachi pays none of them mind as he gracefully lifts the man up from the ground up by his throat.

“What kind of animal would grope a woman so hard it leaves a bruise?” his voice is eerily calm and menacing, Itachi wants him to feel shame for his actions.

The room is dead quiet now, Itachi glances around and notes the looks of unease on some of the women’s faces. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this boss of theirs was a serial harasser, but unfortunately for him, he crossed the wrong woman and her husband today.

Itachi recognizes the man, Sei Fujioka, the newly appointed head of konoha’s intelligence agency. He had met him several times during missions, he seemed like any other regular person, Itachi would’ve never guessed the despicable things he was doing to women in his workplace.

“Most of these women standing here today are the backbone of this disgraceful agency. They strive and suffer, putting in more effort than you could ever muster but yet you bury their efforts and blame their success on nepotism and privilege”

Fujioka gapes at Itachi not knowing what to say, the pressure on his neck is almost unbearable and he has to support his weight by occasionally kicking his feet, his cheek stings both from Y/N’s hit earlier and Itachi’s this evening, but nothing compares to the sting of shame he feels.

He knows Itachi’s words are the truth, he found pleasure in keeping the women in the agency under his feet and harassing them because he knew they couldn’t speak out easily but, he certainly wasn’t going to be convicted to change his ways because Uchiha Itachi gave him a speech.

However, being pummeled and called out like this in front of all the people he dehumanized over the years definitely achieved Itachi’s goal of making him feel the same humiliation he repeatedly subjected his victims to.

The leaf’s police arrive soon after and take down the details of what happened, with the help of a respected member of the anbu like itachi’s confrontation and testimony, the women were finally able to come out and testify against Fujioka for his crimes against them.

That evening Sei Fujioka was led away from the building in handcuffs to jail, where he would await his trial for multiple counts of sexual harassment and sexual misconduct in the workplace.

It had been at least two hours since Itachi left and Y/N was worried sick. At one point, she considered going down there herself but the thought of seeing her boss’ face again so soon after what he did to her made her sick, so here she was waiting for Itachi to return.

She was no longer worried about losing her job, what good was staying at a job that put your physical and mental state in jeopardy, now she was more concerned about her husband’s safety. Itachi was more than capable of handling himself but still, she couldn’t help but be worried.

She must have been deep in thought because she didn’t notice Itachi had come in till he was standing in front of her, he smiles at her lack of awareness before reaching out a hand to gently shake her out of her thoughts.

Her heart drops in fear as she realizes Itachi has been here for a while now, she chuckles clutching her heart as she calms down from the fright. Itachi wastes no time in recounting the events that happened upon his arrival at the office.

Tears gather in her eyes as she watches him speak. If she wasn’t sure she loved him, she was sure now. This man in front of her singlehandedly went to her office in the middle of the night, beat the crap out of her boss for touching her, and put an end to the years of systemic harassment her and her coworkers faced all in one night.

She tackles him into a hug, causing him to stumble as he quickly recovers, hugging her back with just as much vigor. “I love you tachi”

Itachi’s eyes widen as he feels his heart drop into his stomach, he got so carried away with their little love story he completely forgot the implications of his health on their relationship. Please don’t love me, it’ll only hurt worse when I have to leave. Itachi sighs pulling her face out of his chest

“I’m sorry about earlier Y/N, when I first met you, I too accused you of nepotism, if I had known what was going on in your workplace I wouldn’t-“

“Its ok Itachi, trust me you’re nothing like that asshole” she hugs him once again but as soon as she does, her smile drops. Only a fool would miss how he didn’t say I love you back, she decides to drop it for tonight, maybe he didn’t hear her but If she told him she loves him again and he didn’t respond then she would definitely probe further.

“ow-owwwww it hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, you hurt you pretty hand because of that man, you should’ve left the hitting to me” Itachi comments as he cleans up her busted knuckles on the bathroom counter.

“He deserved it”

“of course he did but you got even more hurt in the process, come straight to me next time ok flower?” Itachi finishes up with the cleaning and swiftly wraps the hand in a bandage, placing a small kiss on it to ‘seal his love’ he would always say.

He leaves her on the counter before disappearing into the room to retrieve one of his shirts for her to change into. He returns a few minutes later and hands her the shirt.

For one reason or the other, they hadn’t done the dirty yet so she definitely felt shy changing in front of him. Usually she would ask him to turn around but today she was far too exhausted, so she let her hands start to undo the button up.

She glances at Itachi to see if he would look away but he stares intensely instead. She chuckles too tired to feel shy as she throws the button up off her shoulders leaving her bare before him. Itachi’s demeanor darkens as the bruise Fujioka left on her chest comes into view again.

He can feel his anger coming back but suppresses it for her sake, she must be extremely tired. His hand reaches to cup the boob where the bruise was located, gently caressing the bruised skin

His inspection goes on for minutes and she squirms under his attention feeling exposed, Itachi notices her squirming but his need to make sure she’s ok greatly outweighs her shyness. He sighs as he finally pulls his hand away

“we’ll get some ointment for this tomorrow ok?” he reaches for the shirt he brought to pull over her head when he suddenly grabs his chest.

He cries out in pain as he vision blurs, he can feel the familiar tightening of his respiratory tract followed by the inevitable spew of blood from his inflamed blood vessels.

Y/N watches in horror as Itachi collapses to the ground holding his mouth, blood spilling from through his fingers.

“Itach!”

Next>>

The long awaited part three ya'll, even though it's just been 3 days. Sei Fujioka may or may not represent a man I used to work for but this chapter is dedicated to all the women who have faced harassment in our workplaces just by virtue of being a woman, you are not alone♡♡

Also, the next chapter will be the last, will it have a happy ending? Will it have a heart stabbingly sad ending? Stay tuned to find out!!!

Click here for more Naruto Shippuden fics and other stories!

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angelicjackles · 8 months ago

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— reckless heroine.

cw: fem!reader, best friend!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a smidge of fluff, injuries and blood descriptions — 2.2k a/n: this is the first time I've posted anything publicly in years so consider this a testing the waters fic, trying to find my groove and decide if i want to make this a regular thing.

summary: after a rough, but successful hunt, you and dean arrive back at the motel, only you were reckless and got injured, some duct tape patching up ensues from an angry dean.

The storm had arrived just as Dean and her pulled into the grimy parking lot of the Twin Pines Motel, how very Montana. The heavy raindrops pummeled against the windows like a stark warning. The sky rumbled with low growls, and flashes of jagged light illuminated the dim, rundown building. Inside their basic motel room, the air was thick with tension and the unmistakable smell of almost damp carpet—a cheerful welcome after a semi-successful hunt with a werewolf.

Dean slammed the creaky motel door shut behind them, the force alone almost enough to splinter the plaster around the hinges, his expression a maelstrom of anger and concern blended into one explosive temper as he flicked the lightswitch, the gross orange-ish glow of the overhead bulb highlighted the unsavoury nature of their accommodation. They’d come a long way from Kansas for this hunt.

Sam and Cas took off East together for a potential case, something something bizarre circumstances, frankly, there’d been little resistance offered when the duo took off to the east coast, leaving her and Dean to take Montana—although if they were real, they’d probably have taken anywhere over the east coast.

The door was barely closed for a moment before his gruff voice crackled through the air like a whip. “Did that brewing concussion knock all damn common sense out of your head?” Dean snapped angrily, his demandingly sharp voice rising above the impending storm. “You got a fucking death wish or something?”

She grimaced, carefully moving to sit on one of the twin beds, feeling the throbbing pain radiating from the gash on the back of her shoulder, the wound still steadily leaking blood, instinctively rubbing the spot on the back of your head that had collided with the concrete earlier in the night when he mentioned a concussion.

“Very funny,” she retorted in deadpan, infusing her tone with a touch of biting sarcasm that was quickly becoming a defence mechanism, and all but guaranteed to rile him up further. “The victim needed help, she was bleeding out and scared, and unlike you I actually gave a shit about more than ganking the mutt.” The implication that he didn’t care if the victim survived so long as they handled the werewolf wasn’t helping Dean’s mood, but the remorse she showed was negligible. “Besides, I handled it, didn’t I? And it worked—aren’t you always telling me ‘trust your instincts, your instincts are good’.” she added on before he had a chance to respond, putting an emphasis on the drawl of his voice. The mock only made that muscle in his jaw clench so hard it wouldn’t be a surprise if his teeth shattered. Heed the warning.

A growl bubbled in the back of his throat, but somehow he managed to keep it partially contained and tossed both his and her bags down onto the bed she hadn’t plopped down on. He may be pissed at her right now but that didn’t mean he was going to let his injured best friend carry her own bag. “Trust your instincts?” He gestured wildly with his hand, like that would somehow show just how worked up he was right now. She was getting to him, bad, and it was taking every ounce of willpower he was summoning from Chuck only knows where to stop from lashing out at her. “You were reckless and got yourself attacked in the process of playing heroine!” He rasped, his low voice reverberating off the thin motel walls with how loud his words escaped.

Just for good measure he had to force his eyes elsewhere, just so he’d stop being faced with those claw marks on your shoulder, every glance at them made something in him coil and burn. Stomping towards the foot of the unoccupied bed, he aggressively unzipped his duffle bag and rummaged through it. Meanwhile she was busy shedding herself of the unnecessary clothing and gear, kicking her shoes off and abandoning them on the mysteriously patchy carpet next to the bed, unbuckling her belt and unlatching the clasp on the blade sheath on her hip, tossing both onto the lone chair off to the side of the beds.

Finally after a few long moments his fingers found the squished edges of the first-aid kit he’d grown used to keeping in there—the first-aid kit that only remained stocked up because she meticulously replenished what she, him and Sam went through after every hunt—Snagging it up, deft fingers were quick to unzip and flick through it haphazardly, plucking out several different medical supplies.

When he realised she hadn’t responded to his last few retorts, which was uncharacteristic for her, his eyes flickered back towards her, forest green eyes darkening at the blood leaking against her pale skin. “You put yourself in danger, again, and walked away with a souvenir I’m not too keen on.” He continued despite his better judgement, gesturing angrily at the deep werewolf claw marks on the back of your shoulder blade, having torn through her flannel and undershirt, soaking both in bright crimson and leaving her down to a base layer tank top.

The retort had her glancing over her shoulder, but able to see little more than the dark streaks of blood sticking to wet skin. The amount of blood she’d lost so far wasn’t enough to be life-threatening, but it was definitely a worrying situation that needed attention. God forbid the pair didn’t do their back-and-forth arguing before that though, not like she was bleeding out over here or anything. “You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed.” He grumbled, not so hotly as before, the edges of concern leaking into his voice. “These are gonna scar ugly...” The last part was more of an afterthought.

“More to add to the collection,” she mused out far too casually for the situation. “What did you ju—” He interjected, a warning hiss in his voice, but she was quick to wave a dismissive hand over her shoulder at him. “Forget it.” She brushed off, cutting off his warning remark.

‘It’s like she’s trying to piss me off,’ Dean thought to himself, and hell maybe she was. “For once, couldn’t you have followed the game plan, sweetheart? Fuckin’ hell…” His tone was a mixture of worried fondness and scolding terseness. Either way, she was quick to turn her entire body around on the bed to glare at him, ignoring the searing pain from her wound with the quick movement.

“Oh? Am I supposed to bow down to Dean Winchester’s expert advice? Follow orders blindly?” She shot back at him, a chilling kind of coolness to her voice. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s your speciality,” she added, venomously, the tension in her voice masking the discomfort that coiled within her body.

And she could have sworn she saw him flinch as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, making a low simmering pit of guilt fester inside her, knowing she was out of line. Low blow. His gaze pained for a fleeting moment, pretty green eyes widening and mouth falling open the smallest amount like those words had quite literally taken the breath from his lungs; but it quickly hardened again as he stewed on those words, cracking open a bottle of antiseptic with more force than necessary. “Just— shut up, for once.” It was almost a plea, more of a pained demand, but she knew she’d hit a nerve. “Sit still and let me patch you up, okay? I may not be a doctor, but I can keep your ass from bleeding out.”

She rolled your eyes, watching as he pulled out a smorgasbord of supplies from the first-aid kit. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own medical emergencies. This isn’t my first skirmish with fangs and claws, Dean. I don’t need your help,” her voice came out more snapped than intended.

Despite the fact they both knew the precocious positioning of this wound left her unable to attend to it herself, she’d have to be a pretty fine contortionist to deal with it without help. Dean opened his mouth to inform his best friend of just that but thought better of it in the final second, slowly his mouth slipped closed.

A frustrated grunt slipped past his lips and one hand racked impatiently through his short, messy locks. “Well, congratulations on surviving past encounters, but this looks like a crime scene,” he replied tersely before sighing in frustration, the adrenaline of the situation beginning to die. “—plus, you’re bleeding on my marginally clean bed,” he added on, in an attempt to diffuse the situation, which pulled a scoffed laugh from her mouth before it could be helped.

His tense shoulders dropped slightly in relief when she responded by gingerly peeling the fabric of her black tank top away from the wound, letting it slip down off her slender shoulder so he’d have access.

The next fifteen minutes were deafeningly quiet, the only sounds were the soft pained noises that left her mouth, and the heavy breaths of concentration from Dean as he worked at disinfecting and patching up the wound on her shoulder as best as possible - Would this be easier to do in the bathroom instead of on the bed? Absolutely, but here they were.

Thankfully the wound didn’t need stitches, the claw marks the werewolf had left her with were nasty but not deep enough to be genuinely worrisome—not that it would stop Dean from worrying like a motherfucker. They’d leave some impressively disgusting scars, and hurt like a bitch for the next couple weeks as they healed, and as much as he was tempted to suggest going to the nearest a&e to get her properly seen to, just to be safe, he knew what her answer would be, so that wasn’t a battle he’d win. His basic hunter duct-taping would have to suffice.

The mood wasn’t great, both seething with worry and anger and pain that blended together into a chokingly intense thickness that lingered like smoke in the air, so it was in everyone’s best interests that they shut up.

“Done.”

Those words out of his mouth seemed to break the atmosphere and she slowly glanced back at him over her shoulder right in time for his thumbs to smooth out the medical tape that adhered the thick, white dressings to her pale skin, his touch extremely gentle despite everything, ensuring the tape wouldn’t come loose.

Turning on the bed so she was facing him as he remained stood up, her shoulders rolled back slowly, testing out the movement with the fresh patch up, it seemed to be healing. “How’s it looking, doc?” She quipped, her voice slightly lilted, making a weak attempt to lighten the mood up, too damn tired to argue further with him. His mouth quirked up in what could be described as a lazy grin. “Think you might just survive the night, thanks to the tireless effort of your handsome doctor.” He teased, only because he wanted to see her roll her eyes in that fondly affectionate way, and he got his wish.

The way she made a point to shake her head at him was all he needed to see to know that the sparky atmosphere had diminished; even though it was likely due to the adrenaline dying out and the pain kicking in.

His eyes followed her when she pushed herself to stand up, hands instinctively reaching out to steady her. “Mm, I don’t know, can’t say the bloody hands add to the sex appeal.” She hummed, eyes flicking down to his hands that were stained with her blood, hands that were now staining her arm in deep crimson too, her brows furrowing in distaste, but he didn’t seem in a rush to pull his hand back so she didn’t move to knock him off either. His gaze dropped to the offending hands in question, nose scrunching up at the sight of the blood as his thumb stroked against her elbow. “So… you’re saying I have sex appeal?”

The tone of his voice in that moment was the most playful thing she’d heard from him in a long time. She couldn’t help but laugh, a real hearty ‘you’re such an idiot’ kind of laugh, the kind that had him grinning crookedly at her in return.

“Your ego needs no further stroking, I’m gonna plead the fifth on that one.” She held her hands up in mock surrender, which only rumbled an amused laugh from deep in his chest.

“That’s my girl.” Dean beamed, running his tongue over his teeth with a soft sigh. The adrenaline had long since faded and now he was left with that anxious worry and tired stress lingering in his body. “Fuck… C’mere, you,” he beckoned suddenly, barely giving her time to register his words before he was pulling her in against his chest, strong arms wrapping around her in such a delicate way, careful of her injuries while somehow managing to squish her into him. The height difference leaving the top of her head tucked perfectly underneath his chin as his fingers carted through her messy hair.

“Look... Call a truce, sweetheart?” The gruff hunter muttered into her hair, his arms cradling her close to his larger body. “Truce.” She conceded, placing a complacent kiss against his clothed shoulder, which earned a soft little rumbly hum from him.

The storm raged outside, but within the cramped motel room, a warmth had blossomed between the pair of them—a reminder that despite all the chaos of the job, it was them against the world and in this tempest, as the thunder rolled across the darkening horizon and the lightning split the sky, they both knew they’d face them together, side by side.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester oneshot

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nislost · 6 months ago

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bae where you at😞 | chapter 5

warnings: suggestive

🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼

as you are walking to class you make sure to take quick glances searching for a recognizable face of a certain person. with no luck of finding said person and the sight of your classroom coming into view you sigh and decide you’ll check after class ends.

walking out of class with jeno next to you, the conversation between you both is lively, but you make sure to pay attention to the people around. “y/n.” you hear a recognizable voice that stops you in your tracks. turning around you see intak with a frown on his face. sensing that jeno was going to do something you grab his wrist and smile “i’ll be fine, you can head off without me” your words cause jeno to frown even more “are you sure” he says raising a brow. all you do is nod, he sighs and tells you to text him if you need him before walking off.

looking at the tall man in front of you who just so happens to have gotten closer you raise a brow “what do you want?” the curiosity and anxiousness filling your voice. “we gotta talk.” intak says in a stern voice that you aren’t surprised by. next thing you know you’re in a verbal arguement in the middle of the hall with intak. passerby’s look at you two with annoyance and confusion.

“fuck you intak!” you yell out and turn away, but intak grabs your wrist and yanks you back to him. “don’t you dare turn away from me.” anger fills his voice and you can tell he’s absolutely fuming which causes you to get nervous. while the both of you continue to stand in the hall arguing two figures are walking in the same hall.

“markkkk just help me find her” haechan pouts holding onto marks arm. “dude i don’t even know what she looks like” mark says obviously annoyed and rips his arm away from haechan’s hold. haechan whips his phone out, goes to your twitter, and shows mark a picture of you. mark’s eyes widen “no way she wants to date YOU?!” he yells out grabbing haechan’s phone to look closer. “what is that supposed to mean.” haechan raises a brow as mark opens his mouth to say something his attention is directed to two figures arguing ahead of him. “what’s going on over there?” haechan asks curious, as they walk closer he recognizes the girl. “MARK THATS HER” he whisper yells grabbing mark tightly.

“intak let go!” they both hear you yell watching as you struggle to get out of the taller man’s grasp. before mark can even open his mouth haechan is already walking over there “w-wait..haechan!” mark whisper yells slightly freaking out ‘he’s gonna get his ass whooped..’ his thoughts already playing out a scene of haechan getting pummeled.

haechan comes up from behind you and grabs intak’s wrist “hey when a lady asks you to let go of her you should” haechan pouts. intak shakes haechan’s grip off which means he finally let go of your wrist. “and who are you?” intak questions with attitude “her boyfriend” haechan smiles as you turn around and gasp “you’re here…” you say quietly under your breath. haechan looks down at you and smiles sweetly “you okay?” he asks tilting his head slightly all you do is nod too speechless by how gorgeous he looks in person.

intak scoffs “yeah right” he rolls his eyes “look dude you don’t gotta pretend, she’s not even good at girlfriend shit.” you look at intak annoyed “if you’re talking about what i THINK you’re talking about then you better shut your mouth quick, because i have no problem telling people how you’d call me mommy in bed” you scoff placing a hand on your hip. intak’s jaw drops and he looks around at the people who are watching. “it’s not true!” he yells out running off.

you giggle and turn around to a shocked haechan. “nah that’s some freaky shit” he mumbles causing you to scoff “oh please you look like you’d call me mommy too” you pat his chest “thanks by the way” you place a kiss on his cheek and walk away.

mark comes up from behind haechan and wraps a arm around his neck “dude.” he says obviously shocked, but no one is more shocked than haechan. he deadass looks like this emoji 😧.

notes: i hope my writing is okay😞

previous / next

taglist: @t-102 @ypoom151999 @snoopyjimin @elsbunny @mr1833 @stqrgr7 @injunnie-lemon @theandypark @defzcl @yewshi @dudekiss3r @rihaee @multifandomania @iamsimplyasimp @antosaurius

if your user is bright that means i couldn’t tag you💔

#haechan #haechan smau #haechan x reader #haechan x y/n #haechan x you #kpop fic #kpop smau #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct smau #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct fanfic #kpop

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callalillywrites · 1 month ago

Text

Your Eyes Brought It All Back

Written for @steverogersbingo. E3 - Amnesia.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Steve Rogers Bingo | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1616

Summary: Steve and you took some nasty hits. While you're stuck in a coma, Steve's healing but having a hard time remembering you. All he knows is that you deserve better than an absent fiancé as he watches over you.

Warnings: Medical setting; injured Steve; injured reader (coma); head injuries; grumpy Steve; protective Steve; memory gaps; happy ending; fluff; hurt/comfort

A/N: Since this an amnesia story, I went a little crazy with the cliches. I regret nothing.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

Steve wanted to pummel your fiancé.

The man had some nerve to leave you alone at a time like this.

All Steve knew was the man had a lot to answer for if he ever dared show his face.

Three days.

Three goddamn days.

That's how long you've been asleep in the bed next to him within the medical ward of the Tower.

Well, sleep wasn't quite right.

Coma would be more appropriate.

The doctors had ordered it to better help you heal your injuries, especially the nasty knock you'd taken to your head. They've been monitoring your progress ever since, and they're all relatively optimistic you'll make a full recovery. You just needed time to recover, and that's what they were giving you.

Having taken a heavy knock in the same incident that's led to your current predicament, Steve hadn't needed to be induced. His serum would take care of any healing his body needed, and it has for the most part.

The only hiccup had occurred when he woke up and couldn't recall the past couple of years.

It'd been a real shock to learn that not only had they won against Loki in New York, but his best friend hadn't died that day on the train as he'd thought for so long. He'd also made friends with another guy, who'd been sitting at his bedside as much as the others. That same man had been an integral part in assisting him and Nat to get Bucky back.

Steve found he really liked Sam, who seemed to always have a knack to lighten the mood. Sam also had a special knack for driving Bucky crazy, which was equal parts exasperating and amusing.

He'd also met Sharon Carter, another who'd helped to save Bucky from Hydra and taking Hydra down after they'd infiltrated SHIELD at all levels. She was definitely nice enough, and he really liked the spark he saw within her that reminded him so much of Peggy.

While she had checked in to see how he was doing, it was actually you that had drawn her to the room.

You were apparently good friends with Sharon, having served as an agent alongside her for a few years before you joined the ranks of the Avengers. She quickly filled Steve in on how you'd gained psychic powers after exposure to the Mind Stone. With some help from the others, you'd quickly risen into their ranks and helped them on several missions.

Hearing Sharon talk about you really made Steve sad that he couldn't remember you.

You seemed like someone who cared about the team and them for you in return.

He wanted to remember you. He really did.

Before Sharon left, he couldn't help asking, "Why hasn't her fiancé visited her? What's got him so hung up that he can't be here when she clearly needs him?"

"Well, it seems he's a little lost at the moment. I'm sure he'll come as soon as he can," Sharon said with a not-unkind smirk spreading across her features. It softens into a genuine smile when she glanced at you again, still sleeping so peacefully. "He really loves her. I've seen it firsthand just how much. They're both so lucky to have someone who cares so much about them. I know he'd never leave her alone unless something kept him from being at her side."

Steve wasn't so sure about that.

He couldn't be.

From what the others had told him, he'd been ready and willing to burn the world down to get Bucky back. He'd done everything he could to keep his other friends safe. He'd almost died doing so, but then, that sounded like him.

Something seemed off about this fiancé of yours.

If it was him, he knew he'd never let anyone or anything keep him from your side.

Even if he couldn't recall who you were, something about your presence calmed him. It made him want to stay at your side and keep you safe. Your fiancé was a lucky guy alright, but did he really deserve you? Steve couldn't keep that question from repeating itself as the days wore on.

The only other thing bothering him were a pair of eyes that haunted him in the few hours of sleep he got. He never saw more than those eyes, no other defining features, but they were so distinct that he doubted he could focus on anything but them. They were so distinctive and lovely. He'd seen them through a myriad of different emotions, too, as though he knew them.

But he couldn't ever place them.

He tried, too. He really did.

Every new person that came into his room, he studied their eyes in the hopes of finding the pair that haunted him.

The notebook Bucky had brought him quickly filled with every iteration of those eyes. He couldn't stop drawing them, hoping they'd spark something. Anything.

When the doctors tried to release him after his first day, Steve refused to leave.

Your fiancé still hadn't shown up, and he couldn't let you stay in this room by yourself. It wouldn't be right. You deserved to have someone watch over you and keep you safe, even if you couldn't be safer than in the Tower's medical ward.

"Hey, man, she'll be fine," Sam had said, but Steve had shaken his head.

Nat and Bucky tried to back Sam's assertion up with Bucky adding, "You could use a real shower, punk. It's not like we can't visit her later."

"I'll use the shower here. Just bring me some things from my quarters, please," Steve said softly, his gaze remaining on you. "She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like it."

"How do you know that?" Nat asked, her curiosity piquing. "Are you remembering?"

Steve shook his head.

How he wished he was, but no, he just simply knew. It wasn't something he could explain; it was instinctual, almost like knowing the sun rose in the mornings and set in the evenings. He just knew that you hated waking up alone, and he couldn't let you do that when the time came.

The doctors said it could be any time after they'd weaned you off all the medications that kept you in the coma. Your signs remained stable, so it really was just a matter of when you would come back to them.

Over the next few minutes, they finally convinced him to take an hour. Get some of the food Tony had ordered in, take a shower in his quarters, and then he could come back. Bucky had even set an alarm on his watch while Nat promised not to let to your side until Steve returned.

To his credit, he did take the shower, insisting on it first. The shower did actually help him feel better as he wiped away the last couple of days from his skin. What wounds he'd had already healed up, leaving it easier to clean up fast.

Sam and Bucky, having waited on him in his little sitting area, followed him to the common areas where they loaded up their own plates. Whenever Steve would try and bypass something else from the massive amounts of food, they'd redirect him until his plate practically overflowed. In fact, they made sure he had enough food that it required a tray, which Bucky insisted on carrying for him while Sam handled both his and Bucky's plates.

"You know she's not going anywhere," Sam teased even as he quickened his steps to keep up with Steve's purposeful stride. "Your hour is definitely not up yet, man. Just relax a little."

While he knew Sam had a point, Steve couldn't shake the thought of you. He definitely couldn't shake his desire to sit beside you. It didn't matter that no memories had stirred in the last couple of days. All he knew deep down is that your presence soothed him even as his ire had risen at your absent fiancé.

Low voices and the occasional giggle reached his enhanced hearing as he neared your medical room.

Figuring Nat was probably on the phone, Steve wasn't anywhere near ready to see you actually awake and interacting with Nat.

When your face slid his way, he nearly fell to his knees.

Your eyes.

He knew those eyes.

They'd been the exact same ones that had haunted him these past few days. The ones he hadn't seen you open yet had seen so clearly in his dreams.

The longer your gaze synced with his, the more everything started coming back to him.

The total cliche of a B-rated rom-com that you enjoyed watching.

"Ah, there it is," Nat said, clearly thrilled at seeing recognition lighting up his features once more as he stared at you. "Was wondering when he'd finally remember. He's been sitting in his bed next to you, ready to beat up your fiancé. No idea at all that he was that fiancé or that he'd been here with you the entire time."

Maybe he should've felt a little silly for not realizing it sooner, but he couldn't care at that moment.

No, all that mattered was he remembered you. That you were awake and seemed just fine, too. That he hadn't lost out of his future because the two of you would pull through.

"Morning, beautiful," he said softly, finally closing the distance between you. He placed a gentle kiss against your wrapped forehead. "I trust you slept well."

Your smile, always so beautiful, beamed up at him as you came back with your usual reply. "I always do with you around. Thank you for being here with me."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be."

#steve rogers bingo #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #amnesia #fluff #hurt/comfort #tw injuries #tw head injury #tw coma #established relationship

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dark-lord-of-awesomeness · 7 days ago

Note

What if Cat Stan forgot his name when he was cursed

Maybe he forgot everyone's names

Maybe he also forgot everyone's faces

Oh man thats just so sad :(

I don't think he'd forget faces, as then the sad truth of it is he'd be a perma stray cat here, knowing-

Wait.

I can work with this.

Stan knows he's a person but not who or who he knew or names, just that he used to have hands and a car and he needed to get a lot of money (for his family? He knows it was his family, to make up for something, but what...?). Makes his way to Gravity Falls, runs into Ford, just like in the main fic. Unlike the main fic Stan doesn't try to slink away, as he doesn't know this guy. He's just having fun watching a fight, and its hilarious!

Then Ford gets hurt, like in the main fic, and Stan might not know this guys face but something about the sound sets him off. The more he watches the more he realizes something about the way this guy talks and moves is familiar, more familiar than anything else has been since he's lost his car. Saves Ford and follows him home, now with the added goal of trying to figure out who he is and who they are to each other. He can't spell out Stan because he doesn't remember his name, so he's trying other words, other letters. Figures out this guys name is Stanford from reading his things, and Pines sound familiar, so familiar, so maybe they're family? Stanford doesn't look like any of the crooks Stan barely remember interacting with, so that feels like his best bet.

So, They're family, but how? Cousins? Parent? Brothers? The last one feels right but its also wrong (their not just brothers after all, their twins) so he's left trying to piece together the pieces he can get as a cat. Fiddleford shows up and he's upset, not because of jealousy (although he is a little) but because Fiddleford doesn't feel familiar and isn't drawing out any useful information from Stanford. The opposite in fact, as they talk about science and college.

Then its Carla! And she feels familiar but not as familiar as Stanford! He knows her! and he knows that car! He's pretty sure it was his, but she said it belongs to this Stanley guy (which sounds so, so familiar, so right but-) but that can't be him. Stanford says his twin brother is a huge jerk who cut himself off from his family, and thats not anything like how Nikola remembers being. That must be his other brother then, and maybe Stanley gave him the car when he cut everyone off and Nikola lost it when he became a cat? Well, not brothers, as Stanford only has two, so maybe cousins?

The story would be mostly the same, just without Stan getting uber depressed from Fords hard core denial Stan bashing, because obviously he's not Stan. There'd also be a background thing of Stan trying to piece together Fords life to figure out how he fits into it.

As to how it shakes out form there... hmm... I'm thinking either the Box unlocks his memory, adding to the trauma, but I'm leaning towards the mindscape. Nikola gets in, gets frustrated, thinks 'hey! I can do whatever I want! I'll make myself human!' and subconsiously returns to his human look, ragged clothes and all, then bumps into Fords and his friends, just like the main fic.

Except here Stan doesn't panic lie, he just gets confused when Ford calls him Stanley. Explains how he's Nikola, and he's been trying to communicate for months! See, he used to be a person, and he's pretty sure he knows Ford but lost his memory, so if he wouldn't mind, after they pummel Bill, could he work on uncursing Stan so they could figure this out? Ford depressingly thinks Stan copied Fords look to make his human form and tells everyone that, they go beat up Bill, everyone wakes up, and its time to uncurse Nikola!

And its Stan. For added angst the memory thing doesn't go away immediately, and Stan's just grinning and thanking Ford and wow! Its great to have hands! So, does he look familiar? Are they cousins or something? Ford gets heartbroken again as his twin brother looks at him and doesn't recognize him (similar to a different, potentially canon universe :)), and then insists he's Stan! They're brothers! Twins!

Stan: no we're not, you said that Stanley guy was a complete asshole who was selfish and never cared about anyone. I care a whole lot, so that can't be me :)

Ford, remembering all the things he'd said over the months to his cat: D:

Then they go around trying to jog Stan's memory as the memory curse gradually fades and Stan gets hit with 'oh, I am Stanley, and Ford said all those things about me. But then he had a breakdown and held me as he cried his eyes out and wouldn't let go of me for an hour after I was uncursed, so ????'. More fighting while crying and Stan's getting his brain blasted with names and faces to put to all his horrible memories.

#stan pines #cat stan #how to cat burglar a family #ford pines #Love this actually #Was so sad and still is #but as long as we can get to a happy end i'm happy

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writingsofwesteros · 9 months ago

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Back on my Viserys III shit and I can't help but revisit the thought of him forcing Daenerys to watch him pound the brain cells out of their pure sister (Aelyra from A Debt to Pay coded). Daenerys starts off angry and tries to fight him, only for it to end badly for her as she's forced to submit to him, especially once her sister starts pleading for Dany to let their brother take care of her the way only he knows how, crushing her sister's heart as she realizes this isn't their first time. Watching her sister spread her legs for Viserys and cling to him as he pummels her sopping wet pussy disgusts Daenerys... until she hears how into it their sweet sister is, the girl's almost animalistic moans and grunts strangely making Dany's own body heat up and she can feel her heartbeating in an unusual area.

The icing on the cake was their sister surprising all of them when she wrapped her legs around Viserys tightly before flipping them over with an almost supernatural ease and riding his dick furiously. Daenerys would laugh over the look on their brother's face, a mix of astonishment and adoration?, and the fact that he obviously came prematurely if she hadn't also creamed herself a little. Their sister just continues on as if she isn't using her intimidating older brother as a sex toy while their sister watches intensely, Viserys's cum driving itself deeper into her womb as she gets her fill from him. He just throws his head back and watches her like a goddess, his cock pulsing from the overstimulation and from the need to empty his balls again so quickly.

It's evident the show is coming to an end when the sister's hips start stuttering and she finally allows her body to hang back a bit, holding onto Viserys's shoulders while jackhammering his cock right into her g spot. Dany crawls a bit closer as this is happening and watches unblinking as her sister's streched little pussy gushes sweet nectar before it's tainted and mixes with their brother's creamy milk. Too enraptured with the sight, Dany is unaware of her naive sister asking Viserys to be nice and give Dany a taste of the pleasure he gives her...

Poor Dany never suspects that she'd be thrown to her hands and knees for her brother to roughly stuff his cock in her and hate fuck her in front of their innocent sister, the naive girl smiling when Daenerys accidentally moans to one of his particularly sharp thrusts. Viserys isn't happy about pleasuring his other sister, but if his darling asks (and he's in a good enough mood), he'll do it. Though Viserys makes it interesting by ordering his sweet girl to make their sister eat her pretty little pussy, the pleasured sounds coming out of Daenerys annoying him... especially since he was also enjoying fucking her, his "demonic" sister's tight cunt gripping him almost as tight as his darling's and her body actually being pleasing enough for him to come without their sweet sister's help

👑💀

Viserys deserves more love, bless him...poor baby boy really

Oh he would allow her to take control as well; his greedy hands grabbing at her as she comes apart

Alas, it is the most erotic sight as he watches her fall apart under Danny's tongue and he can find pleasure from that

#👑💀anon

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the-fiction-witch · 11 months ago

Text

Show Off

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sexy / Flirty Word Count - 1502

Jacaerys stood on the Dragonstone beach, he was sparing with his younger brother Lucaerys, Every so often the sounds of the sea crashed onto the beach, while the castle commander watched and every so often gave advice,

"Keep moving don't let him hit you, arm bent or he'd have broken your wrist!”

but as Jacaerys spars he spots the sight across the beach, at his beautiful betrothal lady Y/n.

Who stands by the rocks watching the water, in a gorgeous black and red gown the wind in her hair, every so often she glances and watches Jacaerys with a smile,

The prince continued his spar with his brother, not being able to take his eyes from Y/n the only thought in his mind and for a split second his mind drifted to thoughts of how it’d look against the black sheets on his bed. He took a heavy blow to the shoulder, dropping his Valyrian Steel sword from his hand and landing down in the sand,

“Get your mind back on the fight, Jacaerys!”

Lucaerys helped his brother back up and gave him back his sword, which he accepted and brushed the sand off himself, but Jacaerys looked to Y/n seeing her giggle behind her hand, knowing she saw he wanted to show off for her

‘Damnit, I need to impress her’ he thought to himself, before nodding to his brother that he was ready for another spar.

This time he began the attack with a few calculated stabs and slashes, forcing Luke to take on a more defensive approach, before feinting and landing a blow with the pummel of his blade on his brother’s abdomen. Luke fell to the dirt with a grunt of pain, Jacaerys held the flat of his sword blade to Luke’s throat as a way of victory.

"alright alright. Very good" the commander nodded, "That's enough for today boys,"

Jacaerys offered a hand to his brother who took it gladly and nodded with a small sigh.

‘That damned girl makes it bloody impossible to focus’ Jacaerys thought before walking over to Y/n, as the commander took his brother inside, he did his best not to show how much his shoulder hurt as he walked,

"Good afternoon, my prince" she bowed,

‘Gods be good, she’s beautiful’ “Lady Y/n…” Jacaerys offered a small bow before taking her hand and pressing his lips to the back of her hand. “Might I say you look absolutely ravishing today, my Lady. What brings you here to the beach?”

"Just wanted to watch the waves and perhaps find a few shells" she smiled,

“Well then, hopefully, the Gods will have granted you a few shells,” he said, ”

"I have not been so lucky as of yet only crabs and old starfish" she explained

“Well, the beaches of Dragonstone can be very lucky in finding good shells… and starfish are very cute creatures,” he said with a small chuckle before shrugging.

"You did very well with your sparing match,"

“How much did you see? Truthfully I wouldn’t have done as bad if you weren’t here, I was..” he bit his lip for a moment, ‘should he tell her the truth? To Hells with it’ “I was trying to show off, for you.

"you need not to show off for little me, but I did enjoy what I saw Prince Jacaerys."

“I know I shouldn’t need to show off for you, but I do. I want to show you I’m a good fighter, a strong man…” his voice dropped as his mind once again went back to thoughts of her wearing the dress against his bedsheets. ‘Seven Hells Jacaerys, focus.’

"but really you need to show off for me. I know already of your good skills and strength even if I do admit the idea of you thinking of me at all does make my stomach fill with butterflies."

“Your stomach…” a small smirk appeared across the prince's lips. “Tell me… is that all the thought of me does to you?” He stepped closer as he spoke, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers, “Because I must confess I’ve had similar feelings… for a long time.” Jacaerys muttered with a quiet and seductive voice.

"I admit the thought of you always brings butterflies to my stomach, as if you bloom flowers there. Often the thoughts of your strength make me think of how warm and safe I shall feel when in your arms, when I think of your sword skills I can't help but think of how protected I shall feel when we are wed... And admittedly your sparing match makes me imagine you perhaps one day teaching our own children to use such sword skills a sight I shall enjoy just as much in sure,"

With each word she said, Jacaerys fell in love with her more and more. When she finished speaking he simply snapped and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. The smirk was still present on his lips as he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply, “I love you” he muttered against her plump lips before kissing her again and again, his hands holding her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world. I’m never leaving her, ever he thought to himself before kissing her again,

Y/n turned bright red as she hadn't been expecting to be pulled into his arms and kissed but her hands sat happily on his doublet trailing across the textured fabric to stoke her fingertips against the laces that tied the sleeves to the doublet, she smiled and kissed him back, a tear slipping from her eye when he told her those three words but she had no time to answer before he kissed her again

His calloused hands moved to gently cup her cheeks as they shared a kiss, the passion between them increasing with every second that passed. There was a part of the Prince that wanted to find the nearest bed and keep the pair of them occupied all day, and night, making love but he knew he had to stop himself. He pulled away suddenly, “We… I have to stop myself before I cannot stop…” he whispered before kissing her again, this time with an intoxicating need for her that almost consumed his mind.

"oh Jacaerys, my sweet prince. You didn't even give me time to answer you... I love you too," she cooed

‘Thank the Gods’ the Prince thought with a relieved smile. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his hands rubbing up and down Y/n’s back. “There’s nothing I love more than hearing those three words, my love.” Jacaerys muttered before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “The things I’m going to do to you…” he teased quietly with a smirk.

"oh?" She blushed "What sort of things?" She whispered

“Well…” he whispered before pressing a kiss to her neck, the smirk on his lips growing. “I’d take you.. and I’d lay you against a bed of silks and make love to you till the morning,” he whispered once again his hot breath brushing against her sensitive flesh.

"ooh!" She gulped her face turning red and she giggled at his kisses "Prince Jacaerys Velaryon!" She fake protested "such passionate words, of such explicit acts. And we are not even married yet I can't imagine the things you shall say to me when we are"

He smirked at her ‘protest’ before looking over her face with a small laugh. “Have I made the Lady Y/n blush?” He teased before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “When we are… I’ll whisper how perfectly you fit in my arms, how perfectly our bodies will be together…” the Prince kissed her cheek again before running a hand along her thigh.

she giggled her hand trailing into his hair before she kissed him pushing herself as close as she could, He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing across her plump lips and exploring the inside, his arms around her and drawing her closer to his body.

“I’m never letting you go” Jacaerys whispered before gently nipping at her bottom lip.

"No? Where will you take me then? Surely we can't remain on the beach forever"

“Mmm…” he smiled into the kiss before nipping at her lip again. “I’ll bring you up to the castle, to my chambers, and we can… make up for lost time” he whispered before picking her up and pulling her close, one arm under her legs and the other wrapping beneath her back.

she laughed joyously when he lifted her in his arms her own wrapping around his neck as she happily nuzzled into his chest "Mmmm... Sounds perfect Jace"

“Not as perfect as you, my love” he whispered before carrying her up towards the castle, his eyes fixated on the young Lady. Every so often he would bend his head down and press a small kiss onto her plump lips, every inch of the pair desperate for each other. “Come along my lady, we have wasted enough of our engagement merely looking it is time we took action.”

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fantasyandshit · 7 months ago

Text

The light and the dark (remake) pt.2

Type:series

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!reader

Part one

I stomp up the stairs, front door slamming behind me. After failing to get to my lost sister yet again, I had gone to the ring. I won, but the bastard had a blade- illegal in these rings- and got me in my bad shoulder, one that’s bothered me for years. The scars across my face itch as the warm air of the house blasts me.

“I’m home!” It’s right around dinner time so I decide to journey into the dining room where I presume my sisters are. I step through the threshold, eyes still down as I slide my jacket off my body, placing it on the wrack, as I do so, rolling my shoulders with a wince, I speak out loud. “Where’s that first aid kit again? This bastard had a knife, got me right in my shoulder.” I pause, “it’s not to deep which is good though. Plus I won.”

I finally turn around.

And what I see

Makes me freeze.

“Feyre.” Her name is a breath on my lips as I step forward once hesitantly before launching into her cautiously opened arms. “Gods I’ve missed you.” I breathe in her sent, tears welling in my eyes as I pull back just far enough to look at her face.

Feyre was always gorgeous, but she’d somehow gotten even more beautiful than I remember. My eyes trail to her ears- pointed, she’s a fae. My hand comes up before I can stop myself, tracing the delicate tips of them, brushing her hair behind them which causes her eyes to close softly. “Beautiful.” It’s then I notice the tensed stance of the male behind her, but I barely register him as I take in my lost sister.

She chuckles, hands unraveling from me as we step back. “I’ve missed you to little sister.” She smiles down at me, her cheeks fuller, skin less pale and freckles popping along her face.

Now. I notice the three males also present, and my eyes fall to the one who seems most on edge with my sister.

“You.” I seethe and not another second passes before I’m on the fae, he’s knocked to the ground and my hand pummels his face. “You did this.” A mother blow to his jaw, “you took her from me.” This time to his cheek. His eye. His jaw again. And then. I feel something soft wrap around my waist, lifting me from him.

I struggle, fighting the entities that carry me, “Get off of me! Let me get-“

“Yn! Yn! Please calm down.” My sisters voice pulls me from my stoop as I’m set down softly. It’s then I realize what had lifted me, they look like shadows, streamers of darkness and for a moment I stare in awe, snapped back to reality by Feyre speaking again. “Yn. This is Rhysand,” she points to the mail, rubbing his jaw, his violet eyes crinkling as he chuckles slightly at me.

“He didn’t take me. He saved me. And he is my mate.”

Mates. I had heard of them, something fae had, like lovers bound by the mother. Still, I glare at the male in question, “How do I know he didn’t tell you to say that?”

He laughs again, “I can show you. If you’re ok with that. Her memories. I am a daemeti.”

Ah yes I’ve read about them, able to get into one’s mind. I look to Feyre skeptically and she nods softly, nothing “it’s ok.”

Finally, I nod, closing my eyes as I feel claws run down my mental walls which I let down.

When my eyes open again, I turn stunned, poor Feyre. She’d been through hell.

And then, “You! She’s been here before! You knew she was alive, what she was doing?!” My finger is pointed at Nesta now.

“You didn’t need to know.”

“Find need to know? Are you fucking stupid?”

“Do not speak to me that way.”

“No you shut the hell up! Get off your high horse! She’s my sister too. Mine! And you let me continue searching for her, listened to my screams at night! And you knew! You knew she was alive, you know what was going on! You are absolutely unbelievable do you know that?”

I turn to Elaine now, anger still bubbling in my veins. “And you too? You dare betray me like this? How dare you, you listened to my nightmares, patched me from the forest and held me as I cried for her! You still hid this! You are a horrible sister! Both of you!”

“Knock it off Yn! You don’t get to speak to us that war!”

“Oh fuck off Nesta.”

A hand on my shoulder and I whirl around. Feyre, gods Feyre. She’s here. She’s alive and she well and she’s- gods I can’t believe I get to see her again. I finally feel the witness dripping down my cheeks as my head falls onto her shoulder, my body shaking.

“It’s ok. Breathe for me.”

—————

After calming down, I apologize to the three males- two of which I somehow hadn’t noticed until recently. The shadows, I notice swirl around the male with blue siphons. Their huge wings nearly bumping the walls, Illyrians, a warrior race like no other.

“I apologize for the stress and scare we’ve caused you. But I’d like to introduce myself properly.” The fae with violet eyes speaks, Rhysand and the one clad in red siphons snorts lowly. “I am Rhysand, high lord of the Night court.”

After shaking his hand with a small bow, still embarrassed for attacking him earlier no matter how many times he assured me it was fine and ‘quite amusing to see a human try taking a fae.’ I turn to the others.

“Cassian. And might I add that I agree with Rhysand. That was quite the show.” He chuckles as I take his hand, bowing slightly.

“I’m Azriel.” Gods his voice is smooth, like whiskey as he speaks. He takes my hand in his glove clad one, kissing the top of it softly.

“Your a shadowsinger correct? I’ve read about your kind before.”

He seems surprised, clearing his throat before speaking, “Yes. My kind are extremely uncommon. I’m the only of our time that we know of.”

“Incredible. So do you control them?”

A soft chuckle, my cheeks turn red as he begins again, a small smile gracing his feature, “not exactly. They speak to me, and I them, they choose to follow me and my command.”

“That’s amazing.”

“And you, your known as the Lord of Bloodshed correct?” A small huff leaves me? “Now where does a male get a name like that?”

This catches him off guard, before I smirk comes across his face, “I am known by many as that. But I’m just cassian to you darling.” A wink, I roll my eyes at his antics as he continues, “And as to where I get that name. I feel as though it’s fairly obvious.”

Rhysand cuts in, “Yn. You had mental walls built, how? How did you know, how did you learn?”

My eyes widen at the question, my hand coming to the back of my neck, “Well I’ve studied fae for many years, and I felt as though it may be useful if your kind did truly exist. Darmetis I mean.”

“Smart girl. I heard from your sister that you loved history, reading.”

“I-I do.” I don’t know why my face is red but it is.

—————

We eventually end up sitting at the table, dinner is served and Azriel is patching up my shoulder. No matter how much I protested, he insisted until I finally gave in.

“There you go. All done.”

“Thank you. Really.”

We all eat in practical silence, the tension in the room high as I still feel Nesta wondering glare scan over my face every now and again.

“So Yn. How’d you get that scar on your face. It looks badass.”

I freeze at the question, a shiver running up my back, I feel Feyre bristle at the question as well, but I clear my throat, speaking quietly. “Well when Tamlin came, I tried attacking him. He batted me to the side like a fly. His claws caught me in the process and they haven’t exactly healed properly.”

The three males grumble, clearly not fans of the beast either.

—————

I nearly begin crying again as Feyre leaves at the end of the night, begging her to take her with me. In the end I am unable and make her promise I’ll see her again. That we’ll be together again one day, which she agrees to, kissing my forehead softly on last time before disappearing into the night.

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #fluff #archeron sisters #rhys acotar #cassian #archeron reader

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wreckedandpolemic · 11 months ago

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my kind of party - george daniel & matty healy

(mdni) in which three is a crowd, and four is a party. part of the regret me universe and summer75 2024. 4274 words.

warnings (take a deep breath): foursome (f/f/m/m), degradation, oral (f and m receiving), switch!matty, mentions of choking, spit, cumplay, idk this gets pretty gay, incredibly unhygienic use of a hot tub

Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, steam curling from the water surrounding you as a massage jet pummels your back soothingly. Matty’s thigh presses against yours from one side, Sabrina’s shoulder grazing on the other. George leans back on her other side, stretching and deliberately pulling three pairs of eyes to the muscles of his chest. The summer air is thick with humidity, an expectant tension pulling between you; each one of you knows exactly what the other three look like when they come.

The awareness hangs heavy over you, Sabrina’s hand on your thigh an inevitability in the same moment you pull Matty in for a kiss. He’s cautiously eager, hyper-aware of his audience as you slide a hand into his curls. You aren’t entirely sure why he’s so hesitant — George and Sabrina are both very familiar with the way he touches, kisses, fucks. Four, though, is new. But when you hear Sabrina sigh into George’s mouth as she reaches up to untie your bikini top, you can’t find it in yourself to feel anything but a thrill.

You groan softly as Matty takes a greedy handful of newly exposed skin, his fingers rough on your tender flesh. A pleasured moan from Sabrina pulls you from Matty’s mouth, and you turn to see her stripped naked and grinding her hips down against seemingly nothing with George still kissing her feverishly. She breaks away, turning to you with a flushed face and a sleazy grin. “Should just kick ‘em out and— mmh, get off on the jets, babe. Feels fucking good.”

Sliding your bikini bottoms off, you shift your hips experimentally, your vision nearly whiting out when you find the perfect angle and a bolt of white-hot pleasure crashes over you. “You’re onto something,” you smirk, rolling your hips down. “Still, we keep ‘em around for a reason, right? Give us a show, yeah?” you instruct. In a split-second, Matty surges across the hot tub, catching George in a searing kiss, soaking wet hands tangling in his hair

“Jesus, he’s needy, ain’t he?” Sabrina murmurs, eyes trained on the boys even as her hand wanders between your legs. You gasp, and she smirks. “But so are you, huh? Which one d’you think’s the bigger slut, Georgie?” she adds, the meanness in her tone familiar and yet newly turned on you.

“Matty,” George answers unthinkingly. “Never heard her cry and whine for cock the way he does.” Sabrina works two fingers over your clit, eyes wide with interest.

“You fuck him?” she breathes, warm water lapping at your bare breasts as slow bursts of arousal lick between your thighs. You nod, need thrashing under your skin. “Shit. That, I have to see.” Your reply is cut off by George’s low moan as Matty slides his hand into his shorts and palms his cock, kissing at his neck when George throws his head back in pleasure.

You smirk, climbing over her and settling in her lap. “Next time,” you say, tilting her head up to brush a slow, featherlight kiss to her lips. Her eyes widen. “What? You didn’t think this was gonna be a one-time thing, did you?”

She grins wickedly, arching up so her chest presses against yours, her hand wandering to cradle your ass. “Blow my mind and we’ll find out, doll.”

Behind you, George heaves himself out of the water and you twist in Sabrina’s lap to watch him as he seats himself on the ledge. Dripping wet and gloriously naked, cock half-hard between his legs, he’s a fucking vision as Matty starts to lean in. You cough pointedly, drawing the pair of them from each other sheepishly. “S’not nice to play with somebody else’s toys without asking, George,” you say, dripping condescension as Sabrina’s head falls to kiss over your tits. “You gonna ask for what you want?”

“Want him to blow me,” George groans, muscles tensing as Matty kisses against his inner thighs, mouth desperately close to where he needs it. The sight of them is dizzying, your hips grinding down against Sabrina’s as you moan softly.

“Think you can take him, princess?” you croon, identical, sharp inhales at the sobriquet sending a burst of heat between your legs as Matty turns to you, eyes glazed and jaw slightly slack. He nods wildly, and you laugh. “Greedy little slut. Careful. He’s bigger than me. You gonna choke on his cock, pretty boy?”

In response, Matty wraps his lips around George and swallows him down, gagging when he meets the back of his throat. “Aw, s’that all you can take? Need a hand, baby?” Sabrina teases, lifting you off her lap and settling next to George, wrapping a hand around his cock as Matty bobs his head enthusiastically. You stare, entranced, as George catches Sabrina in a hot, messy kiss, playing with her tits with one hand and threading the other into Matty’s curls.

Matty whines pathetically around George, hips shifting needily with a tent in his shorts visible even through the churning water. You take pity on him, sliding down next to him and palming him through his shorts. Pressing a soft kiss against the damp skin of his neck, the salt taste of his sweat lingers on your lips as you lean to stage-whisper against the shell of his ear. “If you cum from this, that’s it. You get to help the rest of us get off and stay all needy, okay?”

He nods feverishly, George groaning at the moan Matty gives when you slip your hand under his waistband, tugging his shorts off and stroking slowly over his cock. Sabrina’s knees knock against your shoulders as she gasps into George’s mouth, his hand having wandered between her legs. Eagerly, you watch him draw tight, fast circles over her clit, her whines pitching up as she chases the sensation. The four of you must be painting an obscene picture, your head between Sabrina’s thighs while George kisses her tits, his cock in Matty’s mouth while his sits heavy and thick in your palm.

Leaning in slowly, you lick a broad, flat stripe along Sabrina’s cunt, mouthing teasingly at George’s fingertips as he toys with her clit. She gives a gasping, shuddering moan that falls straight to your cunt, thighs clenching. “How come you guys are having all the fun?” you pout up at her, licking over her hole just to hear her whine.

“Get— oh, fuck, yes! Get me off, and we can— mmh— switch,” she says, her free hand sliding into your hair and pressing you into her cunt. The taste of her slides sweetly across your tongue, dripping down your chin as low moans and slick, wet sounds fill the air above you. Matty whines and drools next to you, practically making out with George’s cock as he thrusts messily into your hand. For a moment, all you know are pleasured sounds, Sabrina dripping against your tongue, Matty’s skin against yours, the warm, soothing water around you.

You hear Matty gag obscenely, followed by George moaning out, “God, so good, fuck—” He gives a shuddering gasp, his fingers stilling as he rides out his high. “Go on, swallow like a good boy, yeah? That’s it.”

With Matty’s mouth freed, he leans against you and presses needy, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach, whining when you dig your nail into his slit. George and Sabrina are still sloppily making out above you, her thighs clenching around your head and spurring you into action. You tongue-fuck her hard and deep, writhing at every needy whine she gasps into George’s mouth. Moments later, she comes against your mouth, cunt clenching around your tongue as she whimpers your name desperately. You turn your head unthinkingly, catching Matty’s jaw and licking hungrily into his mouth. The taste of George’s cum lingers on his tongue, smearing with Sabrina’s between your tongues as he moans lowly into your mouth.

“Je-sus,” Sabrina says after a moment, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you. “Let’s take this inside, yeah? Someone’s gotta get fucked into the mattress before tonight’s over, right?” She gets to her feet without another word, deliberately swaying her hips as she tracks wet footprints up to the door, her bikini still discarded somewhere by the water. The three of you share a brief, charged look before scrambling after her, almost pitching over when you slip on the wet tile.

Sabrina is lounging on the bed when you catch up to her, uncaring of her damp hair pressing against the sheets. She smirks at you, beckons seductively, and any semblance of control you might have had burns away as you fall on top of her, her lips greedily searching for any arousal that lingers in your mouth. Then, she looks over your shoulder, past you, locking eyes with Matty. “Mind if I try out your little toy, doll?”

You grin wickedly, climbing off her to gaze over at Matty, hard and begging, his skin flushed with need. “Go ahead. Doesn’t look like he’s gonna last long, though. Fuckin’ gagging for it, isn’t he?” Matty chokes on his inhale, cock twitching at being spoken about like he isn’t there, like he’s a thing the three of you can use for your own pleasure. “Come on, then, princess. Can’t be so dumb already, right? Do as you’re told, yeah?”

Spurred into action, Matty practically trips over himself in his haste, kneeling between Sabrina’s spread legs with an eager smile. “How do you want me?”

She slides a hand into his damp, messy curls. “Oh, just shut up and fuck me,” she growls, a whine pulled from his lips as she tugs hard on his hair. “Rough as you want, babe. Do whatever you want, s’long as you make me cum, yeah?”

Your cunt pulses at her words, an identical flash of arousal sparking in Matty’s gaze. Matty enters her slowly, your eyes trained on her face as her lips part in ecstasy, chest heaving and urging him to go faster. You jerk your chin at George. “C’mere,” you order, climbing on top of him the second he lays down. Leaning down, you kiss him hard, leaving him breathless as you pull away and flip around so your cunt is in his face. “What are you waiting for? My permission?” you grin, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. He hisses, bucking his hips up and lapping at your cunt.

You inch down slowly, letting George stretch out the corners of your mouth gorgeously. Spit drips down his cock, his tongue insistent against your clit as you swallow around him. You relax your throat, pushing down a gag; taking George is something you have to work for, and you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. The rhythmic noise of Matty fucking Sabrina beside you makes an obscene soundtrack, George’s moans into your cunt rippling through you as you drip on his tongue.

Your nose presses against the damp, sweat-slick skin of George’s belly and you grin victoriously as best you can around him, his tongue deep in your cunt melting your brain into nothing. Sabrina’s free hand finds your clit and you grind back against her fingers, moaning around George’s cock as he fucks your mouth. An evil idea flickers to life in your mind, your hands moving almost of their own accord. You reach up to tease around Matty’s hole, the muscle quivering under your touch. Sabrina chokes as he jolts, his hand pressing hard at her throat. “Shit! M’sorry, are you—”

“Fuck, yesyesyes, do that again,” she moans, the pure lust in her voice striking directly in your core. The air is thick with arousal, saturated with breathy moans and lewd sounds, Sabrina crooning encouragements to Matty the moment he allows her breath. You’re fucking dizzy with it, drunk on George’s tongue in your cunt, his cock in your mouth, the mattress dipping under the weight of your… boy fucking your best friend as her skin presses against yours.

George is fucking your mouth with abandon, one hand digging into your hair as he laps at your cunt like you’re his last goddamn meal. You melt against him, limp, letting him fuck your mouth as ecstasy hammers hard in your blood, cunt clenching around his tongue and dripping against Sabrina’s fingers. You can hardly think, wrapped in sensation, a marionette dancing on the strings he’s pulling.

Hips rolling against George’s mouth, you swallow around him, moans coming out garbled and pathetic as slick, hot pleasure thumps in your veins. “Shit, m’gonna cum, don’t stop, fuck!” George gasps against you, moaning helplessly when you redouble your efforts, forcing him as deep down your throat as you physically can and moaning exaggeratedly. He moans out your name, hips bucking as he comes in your mouth, the hot salt taste of him intoxicating. Sabrina pinches your clit, the sharp flash of pain in your sensitive nerves kicking your racing heart into overdrive.

You pull off George and sit up, grinding down hard against his tongue and focusing your gaze on Matty and Sabrina. Her chest heaves, skin flushed and eyes glassy, the skin of her neck already bruising under Matty’s fingers. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, euphoria winding tight under your skin and threatening to burst free. One final, deep thrust breaks you, screaming out George’s name and locking eyes with Matty as you cum, cunt fluttering and arousal gushing over his lips. You moan low in your throat, your vision blurred as you climb off George with shaking legs, letting him shift a little to make room.

Drool mixed with cum leaks from the corner of your mouth, and you catch it on the tips of your fingers and press it into Sabrina’s mouth. She sucks greedily on your fingers, smirking up at you when you pull them free and wipe her saliva against Matty’s chest. His mouth hangs open, panting and moaning as he gazes at you with a faraway look in his eye. “Look so pretty, darling. Like a fuckin’ pornstar, just for us,” you groan.

“He fucks like one, too,” Sabrina grins, rolling her hips up and gasping when her clit brushes against his stomach. “Shit, baby, harder. Just like that, good boy…” she groans. Matty’s hips stutter at the praise, striking a spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back in her head.

“You’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” George groans, his cock twitching valiantly as he stares, entranced. “Does he feel good? You like gettin’ fucked while we watch? Gonna look so pretty cumming on his cock, baby.” Even without being addressed, George’s low voice sands your brain smooth, your need an insistent throb in the base of your skull.

“Oh, God, Matty, don’t stop. M’so close, fuck.” Your head swims, delirious with the obscenity playing out before you, your soaked cunt begging for attention and throbbing between your legs. “Fuck, Matty, shit! Oh, m’cumming, m’cumming, yes!”

Ever theatrical, she gasps and writhes under Matty, doing everything she can to make him lose control as he fucks her through her orgasm. Sure enough, it’s barely a minute before Matty gives a low, shuddering gasp and pleas spill from his lips. “Shit, m’gonna cum, m’so fuckin’ close, fuck! Can I cum, please, please!”

It’s impossibly gratifying that he directs his words to you even as he’s bottomed out in another girl. A sick thrill runs through you at the vicious ownership you feel over him. But this is your best friend, not a girl from the bar or a groupie, so you flash a smile and give a delicate shrug. “I don’t know. Does he deserve it?”

“God, fuckin’ look at him. He needs it so bad,” she pouts, and Matty whimpers. “Needy slut. Been so good, haven’t you? Go on, sweet boy. Cum for us.” The permission is all he needs, spilling deep inside Sabrina with a low, desperate whine, practically trembling with the release.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck, feels s’good, fuck,” he whimpers, going limp when he pulls out with a slick, obscene sound. Your eyes fall to Sabrina’s cunt, soaked and dripping with Matty’s cum.

“Look so pretty all fucked out. Both of you,” you grin, nudging Matty out of the way so you can lean down over Sabrina and kiss her messily, swallowing her gasp as you run your fingers over her sensitive clit. You lift your hand and suck the mess off, moaning graphically as their combined taste hits your tongue.

Hooking a leg around you, Sabrina flips you with surprising strength, knocking the wind from your lungs and leaving you gasping and grinning up at her. Her hips shift until her cunt presses against yours, and you whine at the pressure over your swollen, neglected clit. “Shit,” you whimper as she slowly rolls her hips down against yours, heat thrumming under your skin.

“They gave us a show,” she murmurs, tossing a smirk over her shoulder at George and Matty where they stare unashamedly. “Our turn now, right?”

You grind up against her, the flames in your belly leaping higher and higher with every moan that slips from her lips, Matty’s cum smeared between your bodies. Matty is crammed into George’s lap, the pair of them trading bruising kisses as they watch you. Their gaze is hot, a shameless stare that amplifies every burst of pleasure that rolls over you. George breaks away, holding his hand under Matty’s mouth and murmuring, “Spit.”

Matty obliges, and your eyes stay glued to George’s palm as he reaches down, closing his hand around their cocks and pumping slowly. You could almost cum just from Matty’s answering moan, the sight of them disappearing into George’s fist in a languid, teasing rhythm making your head spin. Sabrina leans down, catching your jaw and your attention. “God, they look good, huh? Gettin’ off together ‘cause they know we’re watching. Can feel how wet that’s makin’ you, doll.”

You give a strangled moan, unable to tear your eyes away from Matty and George, moaning into each other’s mouth and grinding sloppily together. Your head swims, drool pooling in your mouth the longer you lose yourself in the scene unfolding around you, rolling your hips ever faster as Sabrina tweaks your nipples, the brief flash of pain utterly intoxicating. Lust-struck, you gaze up at her, a filthy smirk stretching wide across her face as she grinds down against you. “Look at you,” she croons. “Gone all stupid with it, huh? Pretty cunt feels so fuckin’ good, baby. Wanna feel you cum against me so bad.”

Whining, you thrash your head back and forth, caught between watching Matty and George or Sabrina above you. Heat throbs in your skull, your world tunnelled down to the four walls of the bedroom, the four bodies grinding against each other. “Shit, G, feels s’fucking good, you feel so good, I wanna– fuck,” Matty whimpers, moaning helplessly against George’s mouth and grinding in his lap.

“God, he is just– ohh– the sweetest little thing. Trained him up so well, haven’t you, doll?” Sabrina murmurs, leaning down to graze the words against your lips, spit-slick as she licks into your mouth. Your soaked cunts kiss, arousal stringing between you as your vision blurs with lust.

It takes monumental effort to pull together a coherent sentence. “He fuckin’ loves being used like– mmh– like this. Just wanna get us off, don’t you, baby? Such a good little slut.” Your pulse roars in your ears, amplifying every soft, lewd sound breathed out into the heavy, warm air. Your muscles are tense, pulled taut like guitar strings ready to be plucked, waiting to be tuned to that rapturous frequency.

“Oh, fuck, m’gonna– I can’t– M’so close,” Matty moans, writhing helplessly against George as he leaves bruising kisses over his neck and chest.

“Greedy little whore wants to cum again,” Sabrina smirks, cheeks hot as she admires him, eyes lidded and almost black with lust. “D’you think he deserves it?”

Matty can barely control himself, desperate and wanton, flushed all over and quivering with need. “Please,” he says weakly, head thrown back and damp curls plastered to his forehead.

“He looks so pretty when he’s made a fuckin’ mess of himself. Go on, pretty boy. Cum,” you order, and he does. You can see it in his whole body, practically convulsing against George as ropes of cum spill over his fist and splash against their stomachs. George follows a second later, his fist slowing as he paints their bodies white. The whole thing is obscene, and you can feel Sabrina pulsing against you as she watches, the sensation rippling through you and bursting from your lips in a lewd moan.

Entranced, you watch as George, sweaty and panting, lifts his cum-covered hand to Matty’s lips. “So fucking filthy,” he croons. “Gotta clean up your mess, baby.” Matty sets to work eagerly, the sight absolutely pornographic. He moans lewdly as he laps at George’s skin, sucking on his fingers and rolling his eyes back in his head.

“God, tastes so good,” Matty moans, dizzying arousal filling your head as you grind desperately up against Sabrina. The tension pulling tight in your core is begging for release, hot, liquid ecstasy flooding your veins. You lose your grasp on time as you chase your pleasure against her, desire saturating every inch of your body.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasp, your body suddenly collapsing in on itself as your orgasm steals the breath from your lungs. Your brain is melting, liquid that drips from your ears and pools on the mattress, all your awareness cut loose as your high overtakes you. You’re fucking floating, cunt pulsing insistently and tiny, breathless gasps stumbling from your lips.

“Good girl,” Sabrina murmurs. “Such a good girl, cumming all pretty for me.” You can feel her words lulling you into submission, your body weak against the slow, sweet onslaught of praise. “She’s so fucking wet, could just fuckin’ fill her up right now and she’d hardly notice.” You whine out a barely comprehensible plea, begging instinctively before you even process her words. There’s a wicked glint in Matty’s eye when you turn your head, wrenching your awareness onto him as he climbs out of George’s lap. “Shit, you want a turn? C’mon, baby, go ahead. She’s fuckin’ gagging for it.”

Matty climbs over you, filling the space Sabrina left before you even notice she’s moved, her legs in the air under George as he pushes into her slowly. “Fuck, look at you,” Matty says, tone dark and promising. “Shit, y’such a mess. Pretty little slut.” He grips your jaw, pulling your mouth open and spitting on your waiting tongue. You swallow before he even has the chance to instruct you, and you swear the faint taste of cum lingers in your mouth. He grins proudly, giving you no warning before he fucks deep into you.

You can hardly speak, barely think, aware of nothing but Matty’s hips slamming against yours, the slick sounds of sex filling the room. Matty pours filth into your ear, condescending praise sliding against sweet degradation as he fills you over and over. A sound that’s half-scream, half-whine rings out, and it takes a moment for you to realise it’s yours. “So fuckin’ gorgeous all fucked out, doll,” Sabrina murmurs, turning your head to face her. Bliss is painted over her features as she kisses you, your lips slack as you struggle to muster up the ability to reciprocate. She pours whining gasps against your lips as she comes, face contorting as she writhes under George, enraptured.

All you can feel is euphoria, winding tight around your organs as Matty rubs at your sensitive clit, his frantic rhythm choking you. You whimper what might be his name, your legs locked around his waist deepening his thrusts. “Doing so good, darling. Takin’ me so well. Y’always do,” he praises, your cunt clenching wantonly around him. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? Fuckin’ soak my cock, yeah?”

He pinches your clit, the heat in your belly reaching dangerous levels. You’re sweating, trembling, your words slurred and pathetic as you teeter on the edge. “Wanna cum, please, need it s’bad, Matty, please!” you cry out, wanton and lust-sick and fucking desperate.

“So pathetic, darling. Such a little cockslut. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” The words are all you need, tumbling into oblivion as Matty keeps fucking you, deep and hard and punishing as you cum impossibly hard. Your vision whites out, head spinning with pleasure and sensation and pure fucking carnality, the sounds escaping you animalistic in their hunger. Dizzy as you come to, Matty grins indulgently down at you, his pace now languid and relaxed. You clench around him, weak pleas spilling from your dry throat. “Aw, baby. Needy little cumslut. Don’t worry, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

All you can do is lay back and fucking take it, letting Matty use you like a toy until he’s spilling inside you, moaning slickly and gasping out your name as his cock pulses. He pulls out of you, panting on his knees, and you finally catch your breath.

“Well, that was fun,” Sabrina chirps, somehow carefree despite her still-heaving chest. “Jesus, I feel disgusting. I need a shower, spliff and something to eat, in that order. Anyone coming?”

Given that you can barely move, you watch George follow her into the bathroom, unsurprised when you hear high, breathy moans echoing off the tile. Matty meets your eyes with a smirk. Fuck. You’re in for a long night.

#this is fucking disgusting #like every time i think it cant get more depraved it DOES #matty healy x reader #george daniel x reader #matty healy smut #george daniel smut #matty healy imagine #george daniel imagine #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #regret me #summer75

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venactricisfics · 4 months ago

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Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Twenty-Seven

More smutty goodness 18+

“Don’t start anything while you’re out there, please,” I told Ryan. He was going out with my brother and father to confront the Morrows.

“I won't, baby,” he said as he strapped on his Kevlar Livestock agent vest. “It’s just a show of force.”

“You sure that’s all it’s gonna be?” I eyed him, “That’s a lot of protection you got on, cowboy.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, “Now you go have fun with your friends.”

“Yes, sir,” I gave him a wink and headed out to the truck. Lloyd and Jimmy had loaded up our horses in the trailer. I was riding out with Mia and Laramie to the fairgrounds to practice barrels. Girls' Day is what Laramie called it, but with Lloyd and Jimmy tagging along to help with our gear.

“You know I don’t run barrels, right?” I cocked my head at the arena.

“Oh, I know. You’re way too disciplined for barrel racing,” Laramie teased with a smirk. “That’s why Mia and I will show you what we got first,” she motioned between the two of them, “then you can show us what you’ve been working on.”

The truth was, I hadn’t been working on much—just running the same routines from my last few shows. I hadn’t competed, so I hadn’t pushed myself.

And maybe that was the problem.

“I saw this trick rider last week jump through fire,” Mia said. “You ever do anything like that?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. I’d seen girls on the circuit pull off stunts like that. “Too dangerous.”

Even as I said it, I felt a flicker of something—was it doubt? Or the itch to prove to myself that I still had more in me?

I watched as the two cut around the barrel like they were walking. Leaning against the gate, with Denim’s reins in my hands. He shifted beside me, like he thought he had something to prove too.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered to him.

“Will you toss me a water, babe?” Laramie said sweetly to Lloyd. Who obediently grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and tossed it to her.

“Two dances,” Lloyd grumbled, “and here I am saddling their horses, sitting in the bleachers watching ‘em.”

“Y’all didn’t.. Uh…?” Jimmy asked, I cocked my head to hear the answer to that question.

“Of course not, she ain’t even 25 years old,” Lloyd answered. I was relieved to hear the answer.

“Thank God,” I muttered.

I sucked in a breath and lead Denium into the arena. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. I double-checked his cinching and straps. “Alright, buddy. You ready for this?” I slipped my leg into the strap and hung onto the pummel as he started to gallop around the arena. Everything outside of the thumping of his hooves on the dirt faded away. I laid across his back lifting myself up into a handstand before seating myself in the saddle.

The more I moved, the more I felt like me again. Every trick flowed effortlessly, each motion instinctual, Denim responding to my cues without hesitation. No fire, no gimmicks—just skill, just trust. Who needed flash when you had talent?

As I slowed Denim to a trot, Laramie leaned against the fence, arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face.

“Felt good, didn’t it?” she asked.

I exhaled, patting Denim’s neck. “Yeah, it did.”

“You gotta get back out there, Alex.” Her tone wasn’t pushy, just honest.

“Maybe,” I said, but the word felt hollow.

I thought about Ryan, about what we had built since I came back. The quiet mornings, the shared laughter, the kind of love that had settled deep in my bones. Things changed the last time I was on the road—distance had a way of unraveling even the strongest ties. But now, we were stronger. More committed.

Still… could what we had survive if I left again?

My phone rang pulling me from my doubts. Kayce.

“Commissioner Dutton,” I smirked as I answered the phone, “How can I help you?”

“You busy,” Kayce’s voice was serious. He’d been far too serious lately.

“What do you need?” I asked sincerely.

“Can you meet me at the reservation?” he asked, “There’s a missing girl.”

“I’m on my way,” I told him. I looked over at Lloyd, “Can you make sure Denim gets settled in the barn for me? I gotta help my brother.”

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“I hope it will be,” I responded.

“I’ll take care of him, for you, darlin’,” he replied.

Lloyd’s reassurance was enough for me to swing down off Denim without hesitation. I handed him the reins, giving my horse a quick pat before heading for my truck.

“Be careful,” Laramie called after me, her tone less playful now.

“I always am,” I threw back, though we both knew that wasn’t exactly true.

Sliding behind the wheel, I wasted no time peeling out of the lot, dust kicking up behind me.

Kayce wouldn’t call me for something like this unless it was serious. And if a girl had gone missing on the reservation, I knew exactly what kind of trouble we might be walking into.

I pressed harder on the gas.

I just hoped we weren’t already too late.

I pulled the truck to a stop. A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Kayce, Ryan, and Agent Hendon were leading horses from a trailer.

“I saddled one up for you,” Ryan handed me the reins.

“Thanks, how did everything go this morning?” I asked.

“It went better than expected,” he responded.

“That’s good thinking,” the reservation police officer told Kayce.

“Miss Dutton,” the Chairman of Broken Rock Reservation said to me, “Wish we were meeting on different circumstances. But I appreciate you’re coming out to help.”

This man was supposed to be my father’s enemy. But after everything that had happened over the last few years. Their feud seemed slight.

“Yeah, me too,” I told him. “Wish there was more that I could do.”

“It all helps,” he responded.

We gathered around the officer as he called out, “Alright, listen up! Everybody stays ten feet apart. Don’t just look for Sila,” he put a name to the missing girl’s face, “you look for clothes, footprints, a set of keys, anything. If you find something, do not touch it. Just raise your hand and shout ‘Hey!’ and one of the officers will come to you. Alright, let’s go.”

I climbed on the back of my horse, silently scanning the ground looking for any sign of the missing girl. I lost track of the miles we rode, not finding anything. My heart sank when I saw the coyote in the distance.

My stomach twisted as I nudged my horse forward, my throat dry. The coyote stood motionless for a moment, watching us approach before slinking back into the brush.

Ryan must have seen it too because he turned in his saddle, calling out, “Kayce!”

Kayce was already headed in our direction, his expression grim. I swallowed hard and swung down from my horse, boots hitting the dirt with a dull thud.

“Over here!” I shouted, just like the officer had instructed.

The others closed in, but I didn’t move. My eyes locked on the patch of disturbed earth near where the coyote had been. Pieces of fabric, dirty and torn, peeked out from beneath the brush.

I clenched my jaw.

I’d been hoping we’d find signs she was still alive.

Instead, we’d found proof she wasn’t.

“Tell them to stay back,” Chairman Rainwater said, his voice heavy with sorrow as he addressed the officer. “The scene is yours, Ben. Let’s go tell her mother.”

The weight of it settled deep in my chest, sharper than I expected. If my father weren’t an important, wealthy white man, that could have been me.

—---

I sat next to Ryan on his bunk, the glow of the old TV flickering across the room as Guy on a Buffalo played. After the kind of day we’d had, we needed something light and ridiculous. And this? This was peak ridiculous.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jimmy chuckled, pointing at the screen as the man on the buffalo clumsily maneuvered through the wilderness.

“You’ve done a lot of stupid things, Jimmy,” I teased, laughing at both him and the absurdity of the show. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s so good,” Ryan added, grinning.

“You just don’t appreciate quality filmmaking,” Colby chimed in, his arms crossed like he was defending some kind of cinematic masterpiece.

Teeter leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen with a lopsided grin. “I feel like he kinda looks like some kinda sexy Jesus on that buffalo, ridin’ off into the sunset.”

Colby shot her a look. “No one understands what you’re saying.”

“You understand what I’m saying, baby,” she fired back with a playful wink.

“How is he even staying on that thing?” Jimmy asked, eyes squinting at the screen like the answer might reveal itself.

“Well, he can’t buck,” Lloyd answered, his arm casually slung around Laramie’s shoulders.

“Really?” I turned to him, genuinely curious.

“They can’t buck, and they can’t rear up,” he continued. “But they can roll over on your ass.”

“I need this whole dynamic explained to me,” Ryan said, glancing between Lloyd and Laramie like he had walked into the middle of an unsolvable mystery.

“Well, when two people like each other very much—” I started, smirking.

“It must be the wobble of the earth,” Colby cut me off, deadpan. “Creating a magnetic shift—”

“Hey, this is where he gets shot,” Lloyd interrupted, nodding toward the screen.

“Hey, look out!” Jimmy shouted at the TV, like the guy had any chance of hearing him.

Teeter suddenly perked up, pointing at the screen. “Hey, we outta ride them buffalo out there on that field.”

“What field?” Laramie asked.

“Out back, behind the corral,” Teeter said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Where are your corrals?” Laramie asked, clearly trying to make sense of the sudden buffalo discourse.

“There’s thirty or so back there,” I added, earning a confused look from Ryan.

“Whoa, she speaks and they understand her?” he motioned between me and Teeter like we were speaking some ancient dialect. “How is that even possible?”

Mia let out a laugh.

“It’s the wobble of the earth, I’m telling you,” Colby repeated, shaking his head like we were all fools for doubting him.

“Girl brains work on their own frequency,” I said, throwing Ryan a smirk. “Don’t try to understand it.”

“Wait—what buffalo?” Lloyd asked, his brow furrowing.

“The resort put ‘em out there,” Ryan explained. “And they got this mean old bastard watching them.” He glanced at me. “What was his name, baby?”

“Wade Morrow,” I said, watching as Lloyd’s expression shifted the second he heard it.

“Yeah, they’re his buffalo,” Colby confirmed.

A beat of silence passed before Lloyd suddenly grinned. “Who feels like ridin’ a buffalo?”

“Not me,” Ryan answered instantly.

I quirked a brow at him. “Where’s your sense of adventure, cowboy?”

“I would, but—” Jimmy gestured to his neck brace. “Doctors say I gotta take it easy.”

“I’m not supposed to drink and ride buffalo,” Colby added with a solemn nod. “It’s a whole thing.”

“Fuck it, I’ll ride the buffalo,” Teeter declared, standing up like she was preparing for battle.

“We’ll ride the buffalo, and you ladies can watch,” I said, already grabbing my jacket.

“This is gonna be fun,” Mia grinned, standing with me.

“Wait—this is happening?” Colby scrambled off his bunk, looking mildly panicked.

“Looks like it,” Ryan smirked, shaking his head.

And just like that, our night took a sharp left turn—from watching a guy on a buffalo to actually riding one.

“I’ve done some dumb shit in my life,” Colby muttered as he climbed down off his bunk, trailing behind us.

“This is gonna be dumber,” Ryan shot back, shaking his head.

I glanced at Lloyd, the self-appointed expert in this madness. “Alright, so what’s the best way to do this?”

“Well, you can’t rope ‘em by the neck—you’ll crush their larynx,” Lloyd explained like this was common knowledge. “Gotta rope ‘em by the horns.”

“And then what?” Ryan asked, already regretting being here.

“Then you pull ‘em to a stop, jump on, and off you go,” Lloyd said like it was as simple as saddling a horse.

“I’m just here to watch,” Ryan clarified.

“Alex, you go first,” Laramie turned to me, daring me to back down.

“Fuck it,” I shrugged, grinning. “Somebody catch me a buffalo.”

Mia and Laramie burst out laughing.

“We can’t be sober for this,” Colby declared, taking a swig from his flask.

“Shit, what a baby bunch,” Teeter snorted.

And with that, we took off into the field, swinging lassos like we had a clue what we were doing. It was chaos—buffalo snorting, horses dancing beneath us, and us hollering like idiots.

Ethan and Teeter were the first to pull one to a stop. The massive beast huffed, nostrils flaring, but it didn’t bolt. I didn’t give myself time to hesitate—I hopped off my horse and ran straight for it.

The buffalo lowered its head, almost like it was inviting me on.

So I climbed on.

For a split second, I felt like a damn legend. Then it took off, jolting beneath me as it tried to shake me loose. I gripped tight, laughing wildly as it darted, twisted, and finally—finally—sent me flying into the dirt.

I hit the ground hard, but I was still laughing.

“You alright, baby?” Ryan called, already making his way toward me.

“That was awesome,” I grinned, brushing dirt off my jeans as I got to my feet. “Who’s next?”

“Atta girl,” Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head like he’d seen it all before.

“Fuck me, baby,” Teeter whooped, already swinging her lasso as we galloped back into the field, hungry for round two.

The night was young, and so were we—stupid, reckless, and absolutely loving every second of it.

—--

“I cannot believe you did that,” Ryan chuckled as we walked back into the bunkhouse. He handed me a beer before sitting on the edge of his bunk.

“I’m full of surprises, cowboy,” I smirked as I straddled his hips.

“Watch your head, baby,” he laid back so I wouldn’t wack my head on the top bunk.

“Wouldn’t have to worry about my head if you’d come back with me,” I nodded toward the house.

Ryan smirked, his hands settling on my hips. “Tempting, but I like it right here.”

I let out a soft hum, running my fingers through his hair. “Guess I’ll just have to convince you.”

“Oh yeah?” His grip tightened, eyes dark with amusement. “And how do you plan on doing that, little troublemaker?”

I leaned down, my lips brushing against his. “You’ll see.”

I rolled my hips slowly grinding into him. He smirked pressing up into me, “I’m not quite convinced.”

I leaned down trailing kisses along his jaw, “If we were in my bed I could ride you like I want to.”

Ryan let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding up my back. “That so?”

I nipped at his earlobe before whispering, “Mhm. And you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping quiet either.”

His grip on me tightened, a quiet groan rumbling in his chest. “Damn, baby,” he muttered, shifting beneath me. “You drive a hard bargain.”

I smiled against his skin. “So, are you convinced yet?”

Ryan exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into my hips. “Hell yeah,” he rasped, “Let’s get the hell outta here.”

“Where are you sneaking off to?” Laramie cocked a brow, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Gonna take my chances riding a cowboy,” I shot back, tugging Ryan by the hand.

“Save a horse, right?” She giggled.

“Something like that,” I tossed her a wink over my shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”

Ryan let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening around my fingers as we stepped out of the bunkhouse. The night air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the heat simmering between us. I wasted no time slipping my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. My lips met his in a kiss that was anything but gentle—hard, hungry, and full of everything I wanted to do to him.

His hands gripped my waist tight, pressing me flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his body firm against mine. By the time I pulled back, I was breathless, my heart hammering.

“You ready?” I murmured, my fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

Ryan’s smirk was downright sinful. “Lead the way, baby,” he drawled, then narrowed his eyes playfully. “How drunk are you?”

“Only a little,” I admitted, giggling as I stumbled slightly. “But I’d want to fuck you stone sober.”

His thumb brushed my cheek, his expression softening for just a second. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

As soon as we stepped inside, he spun me around, pressing me against the door. His hands roamed my sides, his lips dancing just beneath my ear. “Still sure about this, baby?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

I tangled my fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer. “More than sure,” I whispered. “Now quit talkin’ and kiss me.”

“So bossy when you’re drunk,” Ryan murmured against my neck, his lips trailing warmth along my skin. His smirk was damn near smug as he hooked an arm beneath my knees and lifted me effortlessly into his arms.

I bit my lip to stifle a giggle, the weightlessness making my head spin. The last thing I wanted was to wake my brothers—or my sister.

Ryan carried me through the quiet house with steady, purposeful strides, shifting me slightly as he reached my bedroom door. He nudged it open with his shoulder, stepping inside before easing me down onto my feet. The door clicked shut behind him, the room swallowed in shadows and the soft glow of the moon spilling through the window.

My fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it free from where it was tucked into his jeans. His breath hitched, just a fraction, as I worked the buttons with practiced ease.

“You in a hurry, baby?” he teased, his hands skimming down my sides.

“Just evening the score,” I murmured, my lips brushing his jaw. “You got me all flustered downstairs.”

His low chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh sweetheart,” he drawled, his hands slipping beneath my shirt, fingertips teasing bare skin, “you haven’t seen flustered yet.”

I pressed my lips to his shoulder, trailing soft kisses across his warm skin as I pushed his shirt down his arms, letting it slip to the floor. The heat of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath, sent a rush of anticipation through me.

Ryan’s fingers worked the buttons of my top, his touch both eager and unhurried. The fabric parted, his hands sliding beneath it, mapping familiar territory.

I grabbed him by the belt, giving a playful tug as I stepped backward toward the bed. His smirk deepened, but he let me lead, his hands settling on my hips as he followed.

“Still bossy,” he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

I smirked right back, pulling him even closer. “And you love it.”

“You know I do, baby,” his eyes darkened as he watched me undo my belt, pop the button on my jeans and slid them down my thighs. Trying to keep from falling as I toed off my boots.

Ryan chuckled, his hands settling on my hips to steady me as I kicked off my jeans. His gaze was heavy, lingering on every inch of newly exposed skin.

“You’re impatient tonight,” he teased, his voice low and rough.

I smirked, reaching behind me to unhook my bra, letting it slide from my shoulders. His eyes darkened further, hunger flashing across his face.

“You still have these on,” I grumbled, tugging at the waist of his pants.

He caught my hands, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my knuckles before letting them go. “Then why don’t you do something about it?”

I pulled at his belt, yanking it free of his jeans before tugging at the button, I lowered his zipper agonizingly slow. My eyes locked on his as I pushed them down his hips. He shook his head and kicked off his boots stepping the rest of the way out of his pants.

“Much better,” my arms found their way around his neck again, my lips pressed against his as I turned us, then pushed him backward onto the bed.

Ryan landed on the mattress with a low chuckle, his hands immediately reaching for me as I climbed onto his lap. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles over my bare thighs, but his eyes were anything but lazy—dark, intense, burning with something that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You got me right where you want me, huh?” he murmured, his smirk teasing.

“Damn right I do,” I breathed, rolling my hips just enough to feel the way his breath hitched.

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as I rolled my hips again, his length gliding over my clit with each movement. I let out a groan as I teased myself with him.

Ryan let out a low curse, his grip on my hips tightening as I kept up the slow, teasing rhythm. His breath was ragged, his restraint hanging by a thread.

"You're killing me, baby," he groaned, his fingers digging in just enough to make me shiver.

I smirked, eyes still closed as I lost myself in the friction, the heat building between us. "I thought you liked a little torture."

He exhaled a sharp breath. "Not when it's me suffering."

I opened my eyes, locking onto his dark, hungry gaze. A smirk tugged at my lips as I leaned forward, my hair falling around us like a curtain.

"Don’t worry, cowboy," I murmured, voice laced with promise. "I know how to make you feel better."

My hand slid between us, fingers wrapping around his throbbing length. I teased the tip with featherlight strokes, feeling him twitch beneath my touch. His breath hitched, his grip tightening on my hips as I lifted myself just enough to position him at my entrance.

Slowly, I sank down, inch by inch, until he filled me completely. A deep moan escaped my lips, my body shuddering at the delicious stretch. His hands flexed against my hips, fingertips pressing into my skin as I settled over him.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his voice thick with need.

I rolled my hips, savoring the friction, the way his breath stuttered beneath me. Every slow, deliberate movement sent a shiver through me, building heat between us. I braced my hands on his chest, nails grazing his skin as I found my rhythm, teasing us both with the steady, intoxicating pace.

My hips rolled, and a shudder ran through me as my walls tightened around him, the pleasure coiling tighter with every movement. His grip on my hips turned bruising, his restraint unraveling as he thrust up into me, deeper, harder—hitting that perfect spot that sent my body spiraling.

A sharp cry left my lips as the tension snapped, waves of pleasure crashing through me. My fingers dug into his chest, my body trembling as I rode out the high, gasping his name like a prayer.

Ryan rolled me onto my back, his body pressing firmly against mine as the aftershocks of my release still rippled through me. His breath was hot against my neck, his movements desperate, hungry—driving into me with a force that stole what little breath I had left.

My nails raked down his back, leaving faint trails along his skin as he pushed me toward the edge again, my body responding instantly to the relentless pace. His rhythm faltered, a strangled groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deep one final time, his release spilling into me.

For a moment, neither of us moved, our bodies tangled, hearts hammering in sync. His breath was ragged against my skin, his grip on me unyielding, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

—--

I was still asleep when Ryan slipped out of my bed. I clung to the warmth of his side of the bed for an hour or so longer before I finally got up. I showered and looked at my phone as I brushed my teeth.

Hey baby, didn’t want to wake you. You looked so beautiful sleeping there. Had to get to out to the field. Love you.

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I read his message. My heart swelled, warmth spreading through my chest. I ran my thumb over the words before typing a quick response.

Love you too, cowboy.

Setting my phone down, I rinsed my mouth and finished getting ready. The house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that only came in the early morning hours before the day truly started. I padded barefoot to the kitchen, the scent of coffee lingering in the air. Pouring myself a cup, I leaned against the counter, staring out the window toward the fields.

I could just make out Ryan in the distance, working alongside the others, his movements sure and effortless. The sight of him, so at home out there, sent a warmth through me that had nothing to do with the coffee in my hands.

Maybe I’d ride out there later. Or maybe I’d just let him come find me when the work was done. Either way, I knew where I belonged.

“What’s going on with you, Alex?” Jamie’s voice asked from the kitchen island. I was so lost in my own bliss I didn’t even notice him sitting there.

“Just trying to be happy,” I turned back to look at him, “as long as I can. What are you working on?” I quirked a brow. “Don’t tell me, it’s some deep government secret you can’t tell me about 'cause I won’t understand it, right?”

Jamie sighed, rubbing his temple as he glanced at the stack of papers in front of him. “It’s not a secret, Alex. Just politics.”

I snorted, taking a sip of my coffee. “Same thing.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile but was too weighed down by whatever was on those pages. “It’s a land dispute. A pretty big one.”

I rolled my eyes. “When is it ever not a land dispute?”

Jamie leaned back in his chair, studying me. “You seem different.”

I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. “Maybe I just don’t want to be miserable like the rest of you.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“No?” I crossed my arms. “Dad’s been fighting the same war since before we were born. Kayce’s drowning in it, and you—” I motioned to the documents. “You’re knee-deep in the legal version of it. I get it, Jamie. But I don’t want that to be my whole life.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “I hope you get to keep that happiness, Alex. I really do.”

Something in his voice made me pause. He wasn’t just humoring me—he meant it. And for the first time in a long time, I saw something in Jamie’s eyes that wasn’t ambition or resentment. It was exhaustion. Maybe even regret.

I softened. “You should try it sometime, you know. Being happy.”

His laugh was short, humorless. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

I took another sip of my coffee, watching my older brother drown in responsibilities I had no interest in carrying. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

The door swung open hard, slamming shut behind him. I started to say Good morning, but the look on Dad’s face stopped me cold. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with something more than anger—disgust, maybe. Hatred? Whatever it was, Jamie was in for it.

Jamie, oblivious, looked up from the papers in front of him. “Oh, good. I wanted to talk to you about something. Market Equities made an—”

Dad cut him off with a sharp, bitter laugh. “Of all the promises I’ve made in my life, son…” His voice was dangerously low, edged with something I hadn’t heard in a long time. “If I didn’t love your mother so much, I’d break it. I swear to God, I would.”

Jamie stiffened, eyes darting up in confusion. “Did something happen? I don’t understand.”

I took a cautious step back, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. Whatever my brother had done, it was bad.

Jamie, sensing the growing storm, inched around the kitchen island, using it as a barrier. He was crowding me into the counter now, as if I could somehow shield him from our father’s wrath.

Dad rounded the island, relentless. “What happens in thirty years when you, your brother, and your sisters are too old to fight for this place? When Tate has to fight for it alone?”

Jamie swallowed hard. “What—what are you talking about?”

Dad’s voice grew harsher, his fury barely contained. “Lee wouldn’t marry. Didn’t want kids. I doubt you ever will, either.” He shot Jamie a glare like he was looking at a stranger. Then, his eyes flicked to me. “Now your sister can’t. And she can’t—because of you.”

The world seemed to tilt under my feet.

Jamie went pale, the realization hitting him like a freight train. “Dad, wait.” He shoved past me, putting me between him and our father.

“Quit moving,” Dad barked.

I stood there, stunned. Trying to piece together what he was saying, why Jamie was so scared.

Jamie stumbled over his words, panic setting in. “I didn’t—I didn’t—fuck.” His hands trembled as he scrubbed them down his face. “She came to me. She was scared. I was scared.”

Dad’s rage exploded. “How could you take that from her, Jamie?” His voice shook the room. “Who the fuck did you think you were?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kayce’s voice cut in as he entered the room, eyes scanning the scene. “What’s going on?”

Dad didn’t even look at him. “Ask your brother.” Then he turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

I turned to Jamie, my stomach twisting. “Jamie?” My voice came out unsteady, pleading for answers.

Jamie didn’t answer. He turned, eyes wild, and drove his fist straight through the stained glass window of the door.

Kayce lunged for him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “What the hell, man?”

Jamie’s breath came in ragged gasps, his shoulders shaking. And then, like something inside him cracked wide open, he sobbed. Loud, gut-wrenching, broken.

“All I do is give,” Jamie choked out, voice raw. “I hate him. I fucking hate him.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement in the doorway.

Beth.

She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched our brother unravel.

And suddenly, I understood.

Whatever Jamie had done—whatever Dad was furious about—Beth had been waiting for this moment.

And from the look on her face, the fallout was exactly what she wanted.

I left my brothers behind, shoving past Beth without so much as a glance. I couldn’t deal with this—not now. Not when, for the first time in so long, I had felt like my life was finally falling into place. But the illusion I had built—the fantasy that we could ever be a happy, whole family—was starting to crumble.

Barefoot, I stepped out into the cool grass, my breath hitching as I spotted my father. He stood there, shoulders heavy, head bowed as if the weight of the whole world had finally become too much.

I slowed my steps, watching him stare out over the land, the very thing he’d sacrificed everything for.

“Everything I’ve fought for,” Dad muttered, voice rough, “was for nothing.”

“It’s not for nothing, Dad.” My voice was quiet, but the words carried. I could feel the burden he bore, the weight of the legacy he had tried so hard to secure for us—only to watch it slip through his fingers.

His gaze didn’t waver from the horizon. “You’re so caught up in dreaming, sweetheart,” he said, softer now, almost tired. “And not working on what’s right in front of us.”

I swallowed hard. “Having a bunch of grandkids running around here—that was your dream, Dad.”

His lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled, nodding. “I know.” He let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. “Seeing a part of me live on in you, your brothers, your sister… and in their children. That’s all I ever wanted.” His voice was thick with something I couldn’t quite place—grief, maybe. Defeat. “But I don’t even know if that’s what you want.”

I hesitated, my heart hammering. “That’s because you never asked.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but I didn’t regret them. “I haven’t had a chance to stop fighting long enough to think about if I want kids. Or if he does.”

Dad finally turned his head, meeting my gaze. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

“Don’t wait too long, honey.” His voice was quieter now, resigned. “You only have so much time.”

I stood there, staring at the man who had built an empire only to realize he might not have anyone left to inherit it. And for the first time, I wondered if he was right.

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