#and i wish her hair was shorter sigh

[fioleespring]

.

[misstycloud]

Shapeshifter x fem.reader

“Please stop.” You whimpered, shaking like a leaf.

The creature crouched down to your level and whispered in a soothing voice- it didn’t have the desired effect, though. “Why? Don’t be scared, I would never hurt you. There’s no need to be so frightened.”

“….just leave me alone..”

“No I can’t do that. I love you (Y/n). You’re everything to me. You don’t understand the depth of how much I need you.” He- it- pleaded.

You scoffed despite the inner turmoil. “Well, feelings not mutual.”

He sighed and shook his head slowly. “Why can’t you understand? I just love you so much.” He caressed your hands while staring straight into your eyes. It felt like he was unveiling your soul, like you couldn’t hide from that look, no matter what. “I,” he started, “can be whoever you want me to be. I can be whatever you wish.”

Suddenly, he started changing. It was like something was alive underneath his skin, that wanted to move and reshape the shell it was inside. Slowly, but surely, its features morphed into someone else.

This new shape was clearly tall, even when he was still couching. He looked a little rugged, wi the jet black hair and also at as equally dark grey eyes. He was muscular, too.

“Would this be better?” He asked in a deep voice, tilting his head in wonder. “Would you like someone like this- someone who can protect and care for you? Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to get into a bar fight to defend your honour.”

You looked away and shut your eyes.

“I see.” He said. “So this is not your type, then?”

Once more, you heard the familiar sound of flesh and bones. And against you better judgement, you glance his way again.

This time, he was not as muscular. In fact he was quite thin, but still tall. Messy brown hair shot in all directions, coverering his forehead, it almost shielded his face entirely from view.

“Or is this better?” He gave you a dorky smile. “A nerd? Someone who can relate to your interests and become just as engrossed in them as you. Wouldn’t that be nice? We could talk for hours about the things we like.”

You shook your head hastily. Rejecting his suggestion.

“Or maybe not.” He sighed.

The sound of flesh moving followed and you looked away, not wishing to see the peak of the gruesome transformation, before facing him again.

This new body was considerably shorter than the previous two. It was one of a mousy young man, appearing to be in the beginnings of adulthood.

“If you like being the one in control, I wouldn’t mind. I think this form would fit for that, you see. I’d be nice to be dominated by you. You wouldn’t have to hold back from anything, you could be completely in charge if that’s what you desire?”

You remained silent.

“I take that as a ‘no’, then.” He stopped for a few seconds, thinking, then the smile retuned. “Wait, I can’t believe I didn’t think this.”

Suddenly the young man disappeared and a woman took his place. She was gorgeous by all means. Her long blonde hair flowed in waves down her back. Her curvaceous form would have any person staring.

“I apologise. I should have asked if you would prefer a woman instead, my mistake. Now, finally, is this desireble?”

“I told you to stop. I don’t want any of this- I don’t want you. I don’t want to be near you. Leave me alone, please.” You cried in desperation. Hoping it would be able to push away the creature for good. But you knew it was a foolish dream for it to become bored with you.

The woman hushed you and took you into her arms. “Shhh, shhh, it will all be fine. No need to worry about anything. You’ll be good, I promise. I will take care of you.” She tried comforting you by patting your back like a mother consoling her crying child. “And don’t worry. It doesnt matter how long it’ll take, but I will find the right form eventually. You will just love it~.”

::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::

[clockwayswrites]

Birb in a box Part 14

masterpost

By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.

Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.

Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)

A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.

The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.

Which was odd.

Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?

“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”

Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.

“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”

Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”

“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.

“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.

His son ignored him.

“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”

“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.

“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”

“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”

“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”

“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”

“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”

Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”

“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.

Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”

Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”

“Not good at that?” Dick asked.

He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.

“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”

“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”

“No kidding,” Dick said.

Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”

Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”

“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”

Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.

Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.

“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.

Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”

“A very nice way to look at it. I—”

“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.

Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.

“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”

“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.

“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”

“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.

“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”

“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.

Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.

---

AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰

MDNI, pretty pls with a cherry on top

✫A/N: I’m rlly just pushing these fics out my pussy with no hesitation. talking abt pussy if u have one ur gonna love this one. this on is kinda shorter than my other ones but as always, enjoy this one loves!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You were ovulating and you wanted dick, bad. But it’s almost 2 in the morning and your boyfriend is asleep, so what are you gonna do! You didn’t want to wake him up just for dick, or did you

⋆.ೃ࿔*･wc: 1,673

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: degradation, masturbation, praise, backshots, slight somno, riding, free use, oral masc!receiving, squirting, gentle, soft mdom, finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(the reader is black)

During ovulation, most women turn into sex-addicted monsters or cock sluts. You’re leaning more towards cock slut. It was 1:30 am on a Tuesday night and your vibrator has become your best friend. You were currently assaulting your clit with your vibrator, going on orgasm number 3. The vibrator wasn’t enough though, you needed him. You let out a quiet moan before reaching your now third orgasm. You feel so pitiful, in the bathroom with the door locked, and sitting on the sink watching your pink bullet vibrator go crazy on your clit. You let out a sigh before cleaning up the mirror where juices flew. 

“Fuck, this sucks..”

You mumbled, fixing your bonnet and then sitting on the sink. You get your phone and start texting your friends. 

1:45 AM

(♡): “I’m so horny rn and nothing is working”

Sashaluv: “I know you are not telling us about your pussy problems at 1 am :/”

Mikamika: “Have you thought abt going to bed and not telling us abt it??”

You chuckle at Mikasa’s response before sighing and leaving the bathroom. You walk to your room and throw your phone somewhere in the room, not paying attention to where it went or what was open. 

You notice your semi-muscular and very shirtless boyfriend sleeping on your bed. Your clit is basically screaming for him, there’s no way you're turned on just by looking at this gorgeous man. His hair was down, messily framing his face, his toned chest moving every time he took a breath, and the hem of his pajama pants hanging low. You wish you could just pounce on him right now and grind your hungry pussy on his dick. Your hand travels down to the hem of your Pajama shorts. You fiddle with the edge of your underwear before finally reaching down and drawing small circles on your clit. 

“F-fuck…”

You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you trace the outline of your lips before finally putting 2 fingers in. You let out a shaky moan, and the grip on your mouth tightens as your speed increases. Eren’s facial features are even more beautiful now than ever, the moonlight is hitting his body just right. You can see every muscle, hair, and tattoo. Is this how he feels whenever fucking you? If so you now know why you guys fuck like rabid animals. Your vision gets cloudy as you soak your hands in your sweet juices. 

“I can’t take it anymore…I need him”

You huff before walking to the bed and climbing on top of him. He groans a bit at the sudden shift in weight before falling back into a daze. You start grinding on his cock slowly, your head dips back in pleasure. 

“Mama…”

Eren utters a breathy moan before rubbing his eyes. You’re lustful brown eyes meet his tired green ones, the way he looks at you drives you even more insane. 

“I hope I’m not dreaming, and my pretty girl is grinding her wet pussy on me…fuck”

He groans before putting his hands on your hips and making you grind harder. You bit your lip tightly, trying to keep a moan in your mouth. You feel his cock twitch inside his pants, you grind harder in response.

“You couldn’t sleep so you took matters into your own hands? Fuck…keep going.”

The bed creaks slightly every time you thrust your hips. Moans flooding out of your mouth like a pornstar. The way you and Eren fuck all the time you’re surprised your neighbors don’t think you are one.

“I can’t let you sleep like this mama, you wanna get fucked until you cum baby?”

You nod again, almost making it to orgasm number 5 of the night before he stops you. His long big hands bring your hips to a halt. You whimpered and looked down at his now lustful emerald eyes. 

“It’s never that straightforward baby and you know that. I’ll let you use me to your heart's content, but you’re not done until I say so.”

You nod in agreement and start untying his pajama pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

 “You have to clean up after yourself afterward, I don’t want my pretty slut riding a messy cock.” 

His fuckboy smirk enveloped his handsome features. God…you hated that smirk, it only means he has something up his sleeves. But it gets your pussy wet every time, you're soaking through your shorts during this hot and heavy interaction.

“Fine, but just let me use you. Please.”

You gave him the best ‘give me dick.’ look you could muster, and it worked. He groaned softly before nodding. You quickly untie his pajama pants and pull them down. You take off your shorts and pushing your panties to the side. 

You grab the base of his cock and adjust yourself before sliding him into your cunt. You both let out deafening moans, you slowly grind on him still trying to adjust to his size.

"Good girl, show me how much you love my cock."

You slowly start bouncing on his cock. Eren admires the way your tits jump every time you bounce on his wood.

“Fuck…you’re so big…”

Eren grins before muttering curses under his breath. He grabs your love handles, forcing you to keep a slow and steady pace. You groaned at Eren’s stubbornness to let you do what you want. 

"I know mama, I know. Just do this f'me ok?"

You melted at his sweet words and his silky voice. Eren is the type of man to make you cum with the snap of his fingers. He’s fine, funny, a sweet talker, and has a big dick. What’s not to love? You got brought out of your own mind when Eren started tracing circles around your clit. 

“M-my clit…it’s sensitive! E-Eren, please.” 

He shakes his head, chuckling at your sudden change in character. 

“You were just begging for my cock, what happened? Did the cock slut finally have too much cock?” 

His pink lips gave you a fake pout to add to the condescending tone of his voice. Eren thrust his hips into you, leaving tiny kisses on your cervix every time. Your hands run down his chest and to his abs, feeling every muscle and vein on his torso. Eren feels you clench around him, causing a breathy moan to leave his mouth. 

“Ma, fuck…you can take it come on, cum on my cock.” 

You cry out as your juices cover his cock, Eren is hypnotized watching his cock slide in and out of you. He grunts before sliding you off of his cock. 

“You’re so pretty when you cum, now clean up your mess.” 

You’re completely cock drunk, the only thing you can think about is Eren's big cock in your cunt. You nod before crawling under the covers and grabbing his dick in your hands. You feel him jerk from your cold touch. You lick up the side of his shaft a couple of times before putting his full length in your throat.

“That throat feels good baby. Let me fuck your throat.” 

He grabs the top of your bonnet pushing you as far as you can go. Tears start forming in the corner of your eyes before you start bobbing your head. You can hear Eren mumbling your name under his breath, you take that as a sign that you’re doing a good job.

“Fuck ma I’m about to cum…”

You use your hand to stroke his cock while you suck it, sending him over the edge.

“I wanna cum inside of you, get back up here.”

You do one last stroke of his cock before he pulls you under him. With your face stuffed in the pillow and your ass in the air, it doesn’t take long before Eren rubs your entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, show me who this cock belongs to.”

He whispers in your ear, trailing soft kisses up your back before shoving his dick inside of you with no warning. You yelp in surprise, his cock spreading you apart so good. He starts with a steady pace before it turns into violent backshots. Your moans are muffled in the pillow and you’re clawing at the sheets. 

“Eren! Fuck…slow down.”

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s grinning ear to ear. You hear him click his tongue in response 

“No mama, you can take it. I’ve trained this pussy well. Come on, say ‘I can take it’. Say it”

You sobbed into the pillow, not daring to move your hand back to try to stop him. The pleasure is too much, and truthfully you enjoyed it.

“I…I c-can…mmph…take it…”

You were able to get the statement out even between the torment Eren is putting your cervix through. 

“You can take what ma? Say for me and I’ll let your pretty pussy cum.”

He whispers in your ear, his hands running up and down your body. He’s leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your neck. 

“I…fuck…I can…I can take it! I love it! Fuck…I love your cock!”

You look like a pornstar right now and Eren is loving it. The drool hanging from your two-toned lips, your pink bonnet slipping off your head exposing your knotless braids, the way your plump ass slams against his pelvis, and your puffy pussy wrapped around his cock. 

“I’m about to…mmph…cum!”

You sob before coving his cock in more of your juices. He follows closely after, shooting white ropes inside of you and leaving a rim of your mixed fluids around the base of his cock. Eren collapses on top of you, leaving a trail of passionate kisses along your neck. 

“You did so well mama, you're such a good girl…”

He trails off, tracing small shapes into your skin.

“Thanks…for the help, I love you…”

“I love you too…”

3:29 AM

(♡): [Audio message]

Sashaluv: “I’m guessing she fixed her pussy problem…:/”

[danikamariewrites]

Sickly

Poly!Batboys x reader

Notes: I’m not sure why but a lot of my poly batboys stuff has been Cassian. At this point I should just make these ideas just Cassian x reader but I love including all the boys

Warnings: mentions of medicine and the flu

Kissing and hugging each of your mates goodbye never gets easier. Today was an exception though. You were excited to stay home alone for a few days—alone time is rare since your mates are always around.

Cassian feels the opposite. You saved his goodbye for last knowing how clingy he gets when he goes away.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, sweetheart.” Cassian groans into your neck as he squeezes you. Patting his shoulder you let out a small ‘aww’.

“I’m going to miss you too, baby.” You move to let go but Cassian tightens his hold on you. Rhys lets out a deep sigh. “Cassian, we have to go. Now.”

Cass groans louder, finally releasing you. He ruffles your hair and gives you a small pout. “Bye, sweetheart. We’ll be back in a few days.” He says genuinely sad. You smirk and raise a brow at him. “I know that, do you know that?”

Cassian messes your hair again as Az moves to pull him out the door. “Bye! I love you guys!” You yell after them. “Bye, sweetheart!” Azriel rolls his eyes, “She knows Cass. She will be fine.”

“But what if she isn’t-” before Cassian can get another word out Rhys winks at you, grabbing onto the males to winnow away.

Shutting the door you take the stairs two at a time to your personal chambers. Nuala and Cerridwin had set up a spa night for you and without the boys interrupting you it was sure to be a peaceful one.

Hours later with your hair brushed and braided the twins helped you settle into bed. While your mates would only be away for a few days you were going to revel in this short lived peace.

Your peace was, unfortunately, was shorter lived than you expected. When Nuala came to wake you for breakfast she found you absolutely miserable. Cough, runny nose, aches, and a fever that had her snatching her hand away from your forehead as if you burned her. You had tried to wave it off as nothing but a cold.

“Should I call for the High Lord to return?” Nuala asked carefully. You shook your head slowly so as not to aggravate your sinuses. “No. I’ll be fine, I just need to rest.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Nuala bowed before leaving you.

About halfway through day two you were wishing for your mates to come home and take care of you. You dreamed of Rhys using his powers to take your pain away so you could sleep peacefully. But you couldn’t find it in you to call them home knowing how important their work is.

But today they were finally on their way back. They promised you they’d be back in time for breakfast. All morning, every sound had you jolting to stay awake as you waited in bed.

Your eyes fluttered open as a large calloused hand cupped your cheek, tsking at how warm you felt.

“Hi sweetheart,” Cassian whispered. You mumble an incoherent greeting thanks to your lips feeling too heavy and your tongue sticking to the roof of your dry mouth.

“Has she been sick since we left?” Cassian asked softly, but you could hear the restraint in his voice. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know his jaw was clenched. “Yes,” Nuala replied smoothly, “she didn’t want to call you all home, insisting she rests. Madja has seen her and left tonics.”

Cassian’s fist clenches in your hair, quickly releasing so he wouldn’t hurt you. “Thank you, for keeping an eye on her.” “Of course.” The wraith bows her head, turning on her heel to leave.

Cassian always hated leaving you in case something happened. Even if it was just a cold, Cass wanted to be there to save you from it. The fact that you’ve been suffering for three days without him makes his stomach tie in knots from guilt.

“Can I get you anything? Did you take any tonics yet?” He asks softly.

“No,” you mumble. “Will you get it for me, and some toast?” Cassian leaves a light kiss on your forehead. “Of course I can, I’ll be right back.”

In his absence Rhys and Azriel check on you. The pair dote on you, telling you about the snowfall in the Illyrian mountains. You were starting to wish you went with them, but winter would arrive in Velaris soon.

When Cassian returns he gives the two males a scowl reserved for his soldiers. “Cass, this is not an I-told-you-so moment.” Rhys tells him gently.

“Out, so I can take care of our mate.”

Rhys and Az hesitate, not wanting to leave you while you’re sick.

“You two should go. I don’t want to get all of you sick.” You pout at them, giving them sad eyes for good measure. The pair conceded and left you in Cassian’s care. Az gave you a quick peck on your forehead before Cassian shooed him away.

You watch as Cassian rips your toast up into bite sized pieces to feed to you. You smile at him with hearts in your eyes. Watching the General of the Night Court do something as mundane as angling the straw in your water cup so you don’t worry about spills just makes you fall in love all over again.

Cassian feeds you a few pieces of the ripped up toast before handing you the tonic. As he cuddles up to you Cass lays a cool cloth on your forehead, relieving your high temperature and the splitting headache he knows is coming. A satisfied hum leaves your lips as you snuggle closer to Cassian. “Thank you,” you say quietly. He lightly kisses the top of your head, “Of course, sweetheart.”

[mytheoristavenue]

BES Mizu x Reader - Tranquility

Summary: One evening, two odd fellows walk into your father's inn, requesting keep.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Reader believes Mizu is male, comfort, angst, use of he/him and she/ her pronouns for Mizu depending on POV

Humming gently, you busied your hands, bustling about the front room of your father's humble inn, dusting, polishing, sweeping- anything to pass the time. With your back turned, you hardly noticed the pair of men that wandered in, ducking under the curtain entrance.

"Welcome in!" you chirped over your shoulder, hearing footsteps approach the counter. Hurrying over and behind it, you turned to face them with a warm grin. "Good afternoon, sirs. How may I be of service?"

"We need a room," the shorter one said. He was significantly more slender than his companion and wore looser clothing and a wide kasa that obscured his face. "Two beds."

You nodded obediently. "Of course sir, and for how many nights?"

"One." He answered sternly, angling his head even deeper down.

"Alright," you processed his answer, making note of it. "And will you be requiring meals or would you prefer to dine elsewhere?"

"Here is fine," he replied, digging into a pocket to retrieve a sachel of currency. "Two dinners and two breakfasts. How much?" You quickly added up the total for the stay and four meals and told him what the charge was. To your surprise, he dropped even more in front of you. "I like my privacy, other than meal service, make sure no one disturbs me."

"Of course, sir!" you nodded profusely, swiftly making sure their payment was in the right place, before coming out from behind the counter. "Allow me to escort you to your room!"

-----

Now alone and behind closed doors, the pair of travelers began laying down their luggage, stretching from the relief of no longer having to carry their belongings on their backs. "Ringo," Mizu said suddenly, leaning her sword against a nearby wall as she sat down. "Go out and get us some more provisions, it'll be a while before we get to another village after we leave. Take this," Glancing up at her apprentice, she handed over a list of supplies and the same sachel of gold she'd paid with moments ago. "I'm going to rest while you're out, so try not to disturb me when you get back."

"Yes, master!" The man said seriously, a bit too much so as he saluted her before leaving. The samurai simply rolled her eyes at his unknowingly silly gesture and sighed.

It wasn't long into her quiet time that she was distracted by the softest knock on the wood frame of the door. "Service," your gentle voice called from the other side. Scoffing, Mizu called back, granting you permission to enter.

-----

You smiled when you heard the gentleman call back 'Enter.', sliding the panel away and lifting a tray from the floor before carrying it into the room. "Your meal tonight will be soba, but it won't be ready for a good while. I thought I'd bring you and your companion some refreshments in the meantime. Complementary, of course."

"Do all your guests get treated to free refreshments before dinner?" he asked, suspiciously, sitting cross-legged at a table in the center of the room.

"Well..." you blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you fell to your knees beside him. "Not exactly. Your meal will come with tea and sake, but I wanted to show my appreciation for..."

"You wanted to earn the extra money I gave you." he deduced. "I gave you that in exchange for leaving me alone so, admittedly, you aren't doing a very good job of earning it so far. I'd prefer you to respect my wishes than to bother me with special treatment."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and rejection. "I-I'm sorry," you sputtered, reclaiming the few things you'd set on the table in preparation to return the tray to the kitchen. "I'll just take this back, didn't mean to offend."

"Wait, you can stay." The mysterious man sighed, bringing his hand up and pressing his palm to the top of his kasa, removing it. Underneath it was silky midnight hair, tied back in a taught bun, with a rogue strand that framed his face. Though, most striking about his appearance, were his glasses. They were round and petite with an onyx frame and amber lenses. Noticing your attention, his eyes darted towards you. "Haven't you ever been told that staring is impolite?"

Shaking your head furiously, cheeks once again aglow, you returned to your current task. "Deepest apologies! I was only observing your glasses, they are-"

You could feel his glare on you intensify even with your gaze away. "They're what?"

"P-Pretty..." you muttered truthfully, instantly regretting using such a feminine adjective to describe something a man wore. "They're a nice color is all..."

The man shifted backward, seemingly surprised by your compliments, and for just a moment, his harsh demeanor faltered a bit. "Well...thank you," he muttered bashfully before clearing his throat and darting back into his shell upon noticing that you were beginning to pour a cup of sake. "Just tea," he corrected sternly. "I don't drink."

You straightened at his comment, pausing for a moment. "Apologies," you nodded, setting the vessel back down on the tray to remind yourself to take it back with you when you leave. "I don't believe I've ever served a man who didn't prefer sake." you mused with a small smile.

"I'm not other men," he answered shortly.

"Yes, you're entirely different..." you sighed with glowing cheeks, pouring his tea. "You're a true and honorable gentleman, I can tell."

For the first time since the pair had come in, the traveler smiled- smirked even. It was a cocky look that sent a shiver down your spine when you glanced up and his found sharp amber eyes staring back. "You're quite forward for a service girl, aren't you?"

Your eyes blew wide at his comment and your cheeks caught fire which spread even to the tips of your ears. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to speak so freely!" Somehow in your anxious haste, you'd lost your grasp on the tea kettle in your hand, and you quickly lunged forward to catch it, luckily saving it before it could spill- or worse, shatter.

Unfortunately, your cheer for victory was incredibly short-lived by the hiss of your guest, who had begun tugging his clothes away from his body. Stream rose from his torso and you went pale. It seemed that, in your rush to catch the kettle, you'd reached over the table and knocked the freshly poured cup of hot tea into the poor man's stomach.

Without a second thought, you immediately crawled over, pulling a handkerchief from the chest of your kosode and began dabbing at his chest and stomach, profusely apologizing all while. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, rigid an no longer wriggling form the discomfort of the steaming liquid coating his skin. To his horror, in your haste, you began to tug at his sleeves, pulling them off his shoulders slightly.

"I'm so very sorry, sir!" you cried, beginning to disrobe him. "I'm so clumsy! I swear I'll make this right, let me just-" you continued, untying his belt, his protests completely lost on you in your panicked state. "I'll take your clothes and launder them, free of charge! A-And I'll get you a full refund on your stay!"

"N-no, please," the man began to tremble, breath caught in his throat as you inched him closer and closer to nudity. "It's fine, all's forgiven, there's no need to-" His hands felt heavy as he tied to pry you away, and by the time he'd gathered the ability to calm himself, you'd already stopped. You were entirely frozen as the fabric of his shirt felt from your hand.

"I-I..." you sputtered, unsure of what to say, or even if to speak at all. You'd rather just stay frozen.

"I-I appreciate the offer to launder my clothes, but please," the traveler gave an exacerbated sigh, "Let me undress myself."

You slowly nodded, never breaking eye contact as he gripped his garment closed and gingerly traced the hem of it and where it fell on his chest. Suddenly, out of his peripheral, he watched you lift something off the floor, setting the object in his lap. Then he realized, you weren't looking at his body. Glancing down, he noticed his glasses, folded neatly and resting in the creased crotch of his baggy pants.

"Get out." he snapped, finally putting himself into gear. "I will leave my clothes outside my door for you to wash. Have them back to me as soon as possible. And yes, you will be refunding my stay." he seethed as you instantly jumped up and hurried out of the room.

-----

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mizu stressed, pacing the room, and tugging at her hair. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but her clothes were ruined, she'd at least have to wash them in some creek somewhere. But then, what about Ringo? She could leave him, but knowing him, he'd find her and lecture her about the importance of facing your problems instead of running from them. She'd forced you out before she'd had a chance to read your reaction, but then again, she'd never experienced a good one. You were probably on your way to tell someone- or worse, inform authorities on her whereabouts.

Even worse, she could her her chest bindings beginning to soak with tea, creating a terrible moist feeling between her breasts. She'd have to change the bandages, lest her skin begin to chafe. With every odd stacked against her leaving, she decided to stay. You only knew of her eye color, after all. At least you hadn't figured out all of her secrets.

All she had to do was keep her body hidden and charm you into not telling about her eyes, she could do this. You were tripping all over yourself over one snarky comment, surly she could convince you to keep quiet, right?

I hope you guys enjoyed this, there will be a part two coming (hopefully) soon, which I will link in this post when it is finished! Please like, comment, and reblog if you like this, it really helps encourage me to continue, and with this being a fandom for me to write for, it helps a lot to know what y'all interact with most!

[norrizzandpia]

I Love Your Body (LN4)

Summary: It was the mirrors.

Warnings: sexual innuendos, language, reader is insinuated to have big boobs, talks of deep insecurity

Note: wrote it bc i have no one to tell me this and wanted to wallow in that thought?

Note (part 2): it’s shorter bc I’m tired!

Y/n walked through the door, sunken shoulders and a frown prominent on her face. Lando trudged in at the sounds, smiling brightly as his girlfriend came into view.

“Hi, baby! How was shopping?” He inquired, eyebrows scrunched together when he saw her hands empty.

“You didn’t buy anything?” He asked again, still confused as she avoided his eye contact and tried to slip past him.

He grabbed her arm gently, “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes looked up at him, swallowed whole by a sadness he couldn’t quite place. She stayed quiet as she looked at him before shrugging out of his hold and moving towards their shared bedroom.

He followed her, “Love, what’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” She murmured, slipping into their bathroom and shutting the door, locking it. His face stared at the white door, the shower turning on, as he continued talking to her.

“Y/n, let me in. Please, baby. What’s going on?” He tried to think back on their day, wondering if he had done something to make her mad or her friends that she had gone out with, but he came up empty.

He sat outside the door, listening to the water trickle down the tiled floor and letting the feeling of determination manifest in his chest.

When the water shut off and silence greeted his ears again, Lando stood up, knocking on the door once more.

“Y/n?” The door clicked, his girlfriend dressed in the same clothes came out. His face scrunched up, “Didn’t you just shower?”

She nodded softly, walking over to the dresser and picking out pajamas.

He tilted his head, “Then why are you in the same clothes?”

She groaned under her breath, “I don’t know, Lando.”

He scoffed, arms flying out beside him, “Okay, what the fuck is going on? What did I do to upset you? Was it me? Or your friends? Y/n, what’s going on?”

She shook her head, turning around to face him with pleading eyes, “Lan, please, I just want to be alone.”

His eyes bulged, “No! I’m your boyfriend! It’s my job to be here for you when you’re struggling!”

It was the raising of his voice that broke her down, tears immediately welling in her eyes before she whispered, “It was the mirrors.”

Suddenly, his annoyance withdrew and he was taking a few steps forward, “I don’t understand, my love.”

She sighed, looking down, “We were trying things on at the boutique downtown and it was the mirrors, Lan. I looked horrible. I couldn’t even get the clothing off the hanger once I saw the way I looked without anything on.”

At that, pure empathy for the girl he loved filled his body and he closed the distance between them. Cupping her face in his hands, Lando stared down at her in disbelief, “Love, don’t say things like that.”

The tears fell down her cheeks harder as she cried, “But, it’s true! I’ve got big arms, and a stomach, and red, raw stretch marks! Don’t get me started on my thighs and how ugly my boobs are! Have you seen them? I don’t know how you ever have wanted to look at them, let alone them be one of your favorite parts of me. They’re too big and ruin every outfit I put on. It’s just- I-”

She broke down harder in his arms, hands coming to cover her face as she shook with self-loathing. Lando stood, at a loss for words, as his girlfriend said things he couldn’t even fathom.

When her forehead landed on his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, he moved his hand to smooth down her hair, holding it to him, as the other tugged her waist closer. When she was as close as could be, he leaned down and whispered softly in her ear, “Y/n, none of that is true. I wish you would see yourself the way I do. You are so smart, so kind, cherished by everyone around you. You are everything,” He continued, trailing his arms to trace her arms, “Your arms are perfect and they have comforted me during dark times. I love your hugs, they’re my favorite, because the way your arms feel around me is so incredibly special.” He moved to caress the skin of her stomach, “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with your stomach. It’s where you’ll carry our kids when we’re ready to have them. I love that the most about it.” Though he couldn’t see them, Lando knew where her stretch marks were, having traced over them every chance he got. His hands over her ass, he went on, “The stretch marks here? There’s nothing ugly about them. In fact, I think they’re quite cool. Little marks which show the way your body has grown with you? Fucking sick, baby.” Her small giggle made his heart soar triumphantly before his hands cupped the bottom of her butt, laying halfway over her thighs, “And your thighs? Y/n, they’re so hot. If you know what I mean.” He wiggles his eyebrows and she continues her giggling, head still stuffed in his chest. His last destination is her boobs, stepping away from her to look down at them as if they aren’t hidden beneath her shirt. When she catches the glint in his eye, she rolls her eyes playfully. At that, he starts, “Your boobs? Are you fucking kidding me, love? The bigger the better, baby! They have never and will never ruin an outfit or make you look any less beautiful than you are. I don’t just love them because of how turned on I am by them, I love them for how comforting they are too. You might not understand, but to come home after a bad race or stressful day and lie between them? Heaven, baby. Heaven.”

When he’s finished, Y/n smiles slightly at him before wrapping her arms around his waist and murmuring whispers of gratitude. He invites her warmly, wrapping her safely, wholly in his arms as he whispers back, “Don’t shut me out when you’re feeling like this. I hate thinking about you convincing yourself of these lies. You’re so gorgeous, Y/n, and I know it may not feel that way, but you are, and I’ll spend everyday, every second, telling you until you believe me.”

Nuzzling further into him, she smiled, “Thank you.”

“Always, baby. Always.”

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 2)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3122

(Part 1)

_________________________________________

“When you said you got me a t-shirt,” you sigh, once again adjusting the hem of the jersey Mor provided you. Notshirt; jersey. The bottom of the Velaris Bats uniform has been trimmed—startlingly low. Or is it cut too high; you wonder with a swallowed curse. The damned thing nearly shows off your entire midriff. “I thought you meant, like, a normal fucking shirt and not whatever this is.”

Mor scoffs, shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she weaves her way through the throng of people towards your seats. Her long strides in her black heels hard to keep up with. “That is a Mor Original, and I only made it cuter,” she huffs indigently, like your discomfort is the sole inspiration behind her “designs.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve allowed Mor to pick out your outfit, but it’s definitely going to be your last, you try to remind yourself. The handful of times you’ve thought this exact thing before is laughable, and you’ve never once remembered. She’ll continue to cut the hems of shirts and alter skirts into even shorter skirts until the end of time, probably.

She’s been the crafty type since you first met her. Anything that she could add personality to was subject for a good old shot of “Mor’s Touch:” clothing, home décor, even the cocktails she mixes—which often go from something as simple as a Dirty Shirley and turning it into a cherry-passionfruit with a hint of lime drink, mixed with tonic instead of Sprite and garnished with a frilly umbrella stuck through three Maraschino cherries because “one is simply not enough.”

You agree, and you’d never admit to your eccentric roommate that it’s the most delicious drink you’ve ever had. Goes down like lemonade and has you going from a corner-stander to someone in the center of the dancefloor in two drinks flat.

You wish you had one right about now to get you through the night.

Your mind wanders to Gwyn back at the dorms, wondering what she’s going to be getting up to tonight. You don’t need to wonder, you know how your red-headed roommate prefers to spend her nights, curled up on the couch beneath a thick blanket, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels within reach, and her laptop in her lap, creating fantasy worlds for her characters to live in some day.

A surge of pride for your roommate fills your energy tank. Sometimes people truly do find exactly what they were made for in life, and Gwyn was born to write. You’ve only read a few snippets she’s been willing to share, but you can’t fathom forming sentences the way she does, creating worlds and characters from her mind alone, seeing a vision in your mind so clear that it would be a crime not to share it with the world.

You’re not sure you’ve ever loved something that much, but Sports Medicine is pretty damn close. Psychology, is not.

You shiver as the cold of the arena hits the sliver of skin that’s exposed itself once again while you were taking a sip of your drink. Goosebumps pebble in response, coursing over the entirety of your body within seconds, causing you to shiver.

You should’ve fought Mor harder about bringing your jacket, but at least she left you sleeves, her shirt has been cut into a tank that hardly reaches the bottom of her ribs, and there’s a deep cut down the collar, creating a perfect ‘V’ that shows off her incredible tits.

You’d know, you’ve seen them before.

“Oh. My. Gosh. You two look so good,” a girl gushes, steps into you and Mor’s path, halting you from your first steps down the stairs to your seats. She’s chipper, a camera poised in her hands, the thick strap around her neck. He shiny, chestnut hair is braided into two tails, draped across her shoulders.

Behind her thin-framed glasses, her bright blue eyes sparkle with excitement as she peruses you and your roommate up and down, admiring your outfits.

“I told you,” Mor murmurs, elbowing you in the side before raising her voice to answer. “Thank you so much! I spent all day on these, and this one doesn’t appreciate my hard work at all. It’s a refreshing change of pace to hear a compliment instead of ‘Mor, don’t you think this is a little too much?’” You scrunch your nose at Mor’s terrible impression of you. Too nasally, too annoying.

The photographer laughs like it’s her full-time job, and you scowl.

Way to throw me right under that speeding bus, Mor.

“Do you mind if I take your picture for the team’s social media account? You two would make a great first slide in a carousel for school spirit,” she gets this faraway look in her eyes as if she’s picturing it now. “The interaction you’d get us,” she sighs dreamily. “I might even get promoted.”

You groan internally when Mor perks up even further. “I think I love you,” she blurts, pupils heart-shaped. “Do you want to sit with us? We have an extra ticket.” She’s bought one for Gwyn, hoping she would join in on this sporty girl’s night, but your other roommate had been adamant about her dislike of the sport, and had gotten a pass while you were dressed up like a doll and dragged out of the dorm.

The girl’s laugh is like a windchime, soothing and melodic. “I wish I could, but duty calls,” she waves her camera around in answer. “Maybe I’ll catch you at one of the after parties, though. Here, you can give me your Instagram and I’ll DM you after tagging you in the photos.”

She and Mor exchange socials and names. Feyre. It’s unique and suits her well.

After adding your own Instagram on her phone, you hand the phone back, posing with Mor. Of course, knowing your roommate as you do, it’s not just one picture that Feyre takes. They’re both beaming, and one picture turns into ten. Ten poses, nine sips of your drink because you don’t know what the hell else to do. Eight frantic smiles, seven internal sighs, and six side-eyes from passerby, trying to find their seats. Five giggles from friends, four embarrassed blushes, three warnings that you are so done with this, two people ignoring you, and one announcement overhead signaling the start of the game in a few minutes.

“So nice to meet you, Feyre,” Mor calls as you begin guiding her away. You have no clue where you’re going, but any movement closer to any empty seat is better than the photoshoot you just had in the middle of the walkway. With a parting smile at the photographer, Mor continues, like she’s all for standing there all night instead of supporting her cousin on the ice. “Message me!”

“Clingy, much?” You grunt at the poke to the arm that gets you.

“Oh, come on! It’s not like I’m going to replace you,” she scoffs with a brush of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. You swear, the guys sitting in the front row swoon. “Besides, you can never have too many friends. It’s not possible.”

You’re pretty sure it is possible to have too many friends, but you keep that thought to yourself. You suppose you have one more spot in your life for a friend, but if the pictures turn out terrible and are blasted on the Bat’s Instagram, that spot might disappear. You’re already feeling mortified enough from the public display of taking photos.

“Yeah, yeah,” is what you decide to go with. “Now, where are our seats?”

“I don’t like the look of that,” you mutter wearily, squinting to see what’s happening on the ice. You might not know anything about hockey, but you know malicious intent when you see it. It’s in the way that the Penguin’s player leans closer to the Bat’s center, nudging his shoulder as he speaks, his slimy grin growing with each jab.

The game’s been fun so far, much to your surprise. The crowd surrounding you is all for the team, chanting songs that you need to learn immediately because they’re so much fun. The music that blasts around the stadium during every break is on-point, not too old of songs and not too overplayed like at the one football game you’d been dragged to last year (also by Mor, but not because of a family member on the team, because of an entirely different member.)

“Is that my cousin?” She asks, brown eyes sharp as she examines the players. Their fronts are to you, no seeing the names painted across the back of their jerseys. You refrain from mentioning how Mor should at least know her own cousin’s number—since their written on the sleeves—but you keep that thought to yourself when her red painted nails tighten around the box of popcorn, crushing the flimsy cardboard. The strain of the muscle in her jaw matches the boy on the ice’s, you notice with a fleeing glance at your roommate.

Tension coils your gut. You find your fingers wrapping around the edge of the seat you’re perched in, gripping the bleachers so tightly that you swear you feel the cool metal warming and warping.

You’re not the only two who have noticed the shift in the moods of the players on the ice, parts of the crowd are beginning to rise from their seats, cheering growing from a low rumble to a thunder of screams, caws, and jeering.

The puck is barely a millimeter from the referee’s hand before sticks are thrown to the ice, gloves following as the two players slowly begin to circle each other. It looks like something out of an animal documentary: two predators about to snap at each other’s throats in a fight for the territory.

The anticipation of them going blow for blow lights a fire deep within your belly, your core perking up for attention.

You shouldn’t be thinking like this, shouldn’t get getting turned on by the idea of two boys about to knock each other’s teeth out. Should be thinking about your best friend’s cousin like this at all.

Shooting a guilty glance at your roommate, you breathe a soft sigh of relief that’s swallowed by the shouts of the crowd when you see that Mor hasn’t picked up on your sudden shift in mood—both mentally and physically.

All the players on the ice slide back to make room for the brawl that’s about to break out and a sick feeling bubbles in your stomach, almost overpowering the arousal as you wonder why no one is attempting to stop them.

There isn’t time to voice your concern, isn’t time to do anything except bolt to your feet with a gasp so harsh it sears your lungs when the Penguin’s player is the first to swing. Your heart is lodged in your throat, your breathing holding in your throat as you watch in anticipation. He lashes out with a curled fist so fast that by the time you blink, it’s over.

His hit doesn’t land.

There’s no time to feel the relief trying to rush through your veins because the Bat’s center is retaliating, throwing himself forward after swiftly dodging the attack. He grabs the other boy by the collar of his ice blue uniform and hauls him into his closed fist.

His opponents helmet goes flying off with the snap of his head backwards. He stumbles, but manages to stay upright, snagging a handful of the Bat’s jersey to try and steady himself.

You look to the benches flanking the ice, wondering why no one is joining the fray. It’s now that you realize it’s not that they don’t want to help their teammate who is quickly ducking away from another fist, it’s because they can’t.

There’s a boy standing nonchalantly, hazel eyes pinned on the scene before him. He looks eager almost, leaning so casually against his stick, chin propped on the edge of it like he’s watching the newest action movie from the best spot in the house.

Even the goalie seems to be unconcerned, taking the few moments he has to take a swig of water and adjust his helmet, squatting low and shooting side to side in his box, as if trying to keep limber for when the game resumes.

One of the refs is attempting to hold back a burly boy who seems much too large to be skating at all. His helmet has also been shucked off, revealing long, shoulder length wet hair that clings to his face and neck like a bee on honey. His gloves are abandoned on the ice too, and his stick has skidded to a stop upon hitting the sideboards nearby. You can’t make out the words he’s shouting, but with the feral grin you make out, you know they’re fighting words. With each bark he seems to be inching closer, like the full-grown man in the stripes trying to hold him back is nothing more than a soft breeze, and his is a twister barreling right through.

When he shakes his head, you catch sight of a bloodthirsty grin that has a shiver sliding up your spine. He’s enjoying this?

“Mor,” your worry tries to escape, only for the words to stick in your throat as more noises join the fight, loud as gunshots. Both the Bat’s and the Penguin’s players are rapping their hockey sticks against the boards separating their benches from the ice, war cries falling from their lips.

They’re all enjoying this.

“That is my cousin,” Mor screeches, her perfectly plucked brows pulled tight as she tries finally makes out the number on the back of the jersey that’s gripped so tightly in the offending players grip that you’re pretty sure the stitches are popping with the force. “Kick his fucking ass, Rhys!”

Casting a frantic look to your roommate, you realize that not even she seems to be fazed by the fact that her cousin is in the middle of a fight that could very seriously end badly, especially with the knives on the bottoms of their feet.

But, if everyone’s rooting for their player to win this battle, you can too.

As gruesome as the scene before you is, you wish you had a better seat, somewhere with a better viewpoint than all the way on the other side of the ice. You can’t to be able to hear the threats they’re growling at each other, your attention completely enraptured now that you’ve shoved your worry to the wayside.

With his newfound hold, the Penguin’s player strikes again, and this time, his hit slams across Rhys’ jaw. His head snaps to the side with the nasty hook and his helmet slips to the ice, the sound eaten up by the goading of the crowd.

They swing around, unsteady on their skates as each of the boys tries to topple the other over. You catch a glance at his face. It’s hard to see, and his shaggy black hair is splayed across his face like a spiderweb, keeping you from making out his features. You catch the blood dribbling down his chin, the anger etched in the clench of his jaw as he grits his teeth, managing to twist himself into a position where he has the upper hand on the Penguin’s player: a headlock.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Rhys pound his fist into the other boy’s face once, twice, three times before his opponent’s feet fall out from under him. Rhys releases his hold, allowing the boy to slip lamely to the ice.

“Atta boy, Rhysie,” Mor shouts, once again shoveling popcorn into her mouth with a grin so bright it could melt the ice in the rink before you. She turns to you, golden brown of her eyes glowing with excitement. “Our parents would be so proud.”

She turns back to the scene before you can voice your confusion on that statement, tucking away the information that if you win a fight in hockey, it’s a great accomplishment.

You watch Rhys as he’s escorted by referees who guide him towards the penalty box. He’s examining his knuckles, not caring that he’s abandoning his equipment as he goes, grimacing as the adrenaline begins to fade. He pokes at them, frowning at whatever he feels.

You pray they’re not broken.

The rest of the players seem to be getting back to the game, like one of their teammates isn’t being casted away on an island across the ice. Okay, so it’s just another bench and he’s not that far from them, but you’re shocked that this is the end of the fight, both players carted into separate timeout boxes away from their teams.

Rhys plops down on the bench, pulling a water bottle from a hidden holder, washing the blood from his knuckles before examining them for a second time. You watch him flex his fingers, twist his wrist this way and that. You can’t seem to keep your eyes off him, even with the game picking back up and Mor shouting cheers when the Bat’s manage to steal the puck right from the drop, carting it down the ice with a speed that rivals a racecar.

He must be satisfied with his examination because Rhys is throwing his head back, and it’s almost as if he’s squirting the water from the bottle directly onto you with the way that the apex of your thigh’s wet at the sight of him. He sips the water, holding the bottle a few inches from his face, and you watch the water cascade down his chin and over his throat, bobbing with each swallow. It mixes with the blood from his split lip and slides into the collar of his gear.

You swallow harshly, suddenly parched.

When he’s had his fill of the drink, he moves the bottle further back, using the spray to wash his hair away from his face, and your breathing shallows. It’s as if the hand he’s using to squeeze the life out of the bottle is constricting around your throat, because suddenly, you recognize the sharp of that jaw, the curve of those eyebrows and the straight of his nose. All his angular features come together in the perfect picture of hotness, knocking the breath fully from your chest when he straightens his chin, looking out onto the ice to watch his teammates score the last goal of the second period.

He's the boy from this morning: the overachiever, the one who called you darling.

Mor’s cousin.

Rhysand Cunningham.

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125

[writingoddess1125]

Pot calling the Kettle Black

Mihawk x Reader + Alucare OOC

Just some domestic Fluff stuff and light violence.

Saw someone requested this! But when I went to answer the answer got deleted cause my laptop overheated and shut off ;-; I'm so sorry! (If you were the person please DM me I do apologize)

Anyway Enjoy!!

"For goodness sake" You sigh as you watch the comb snap from your sons hair. Tossing the ruined item to the side to later be thrown away.

You sat there trying to brush through Alucare's thick hair. It seemed the salty air had decided to reek havoc on his dark locs and render them a crusty tangled mess.

"This is humilating-" He grumbled sitting on the floor of the cabin you and Mihawk shared, Wincing everytime you ran the now 4th comb through his hair and encountered a knot.

"Sorry honey but you're too tall for me when you sit in the chair" You admit, needing the upper angle in order to even attempt to manage his hair.

You rinced his hair in more fresh water but it seemed no matter how much you used it was not helping in softening the hardened locs.

Yanking more on his hair which earn another pained grunt in discomfort from the boy- Both of you not noticing the door opening as Mihawk watched calmly from the doorway lf the cabin.

"Struggling?" He finally spoke, revealing himself to the both of you as you pulled the comb from Alucare's hair.

"Yes, His hair is so dry was the sea air that it's a wavy mess" You say gesturing to his locks with a defeated sigh. Alucare glancing back at his father who seemed amused by the sight, Mihawk walking into the room fully and taking the comb from you as well as reaching into the bag he personally carried and grabbing a jar.

"I'll help, Come" He said calmly and gestured to the chair in the room. Alucare turned his nose to this but sighed in defeat as he stood up and sat in the chair. Mihawk going behind him and taking the hair product he used began to comb it through his hair- Softening it enough to take out the knots.

You looked on in surprise at the two- It was a very cute father son moment in your eyes as you watched Mihawk with care detailed his sons hair.

"The salt from the sea will dry out your hair and stick to you. Add more conditioner" He grumbled, Alucare nodding at this as Mihawk with gentle hands detailed the boys hair.

"Why bother keeping your hair so long to begin with?-" Mihawk asked, raising a brow noting that when continuing it was just past the center of his back. Far too long for his taste.

"Cause when it was shorter I got mistaken for you and almost scared a Marine half to death" He said calmly, Mihawk freezing in his actions before he cracked a small smirk and continued his task at hand.

"I see" He said calmly continuing the task at hand. However was forced to stop just halfway through and pulled Alucares hair back in a low ponytail for the time being.

"Out of product.. We will be stopping in a village soon for your mother to stretch her legs- we will gather more hair product for you" he said calmly as Alucare stood from the chair and gave a short thanks.

Standing in the little general store Mihawk turned his head to see Alucare speaking with a girl- A pretty girl. How her cheeks were red and she was clearly swoon- Alucare also flirting back with a charmed smile on his face, he knew that look well.

It wasn't long till the three of you (four on the way) made it to a tiny village to get some supplies for the journey. Deciding a small store near the docks would have the hair supplies for the teen.

The young girl played with a lock of her dark brown hair, her ebony sparkling as Alucare clearly wooed her and she gave a shy nod. Earning a smile from his son and he nodded walking back towards you two- Noting that Mihawk had clearly noticed.

"Mother, they are having a summer festival in a few days, Would you like to attend?" Alucare asked, seeing how your face lit up at the idea. Chattering excitedly at wishing to do this as Mihawk stared at his spawn- Clever.

"What do you saw Mihawk? Wanna stay for the festival?" You ask softly, he looked in your eyes and knew he wouldn't refuse you. So he gave a soft nod to you. Alucare smirked at this as he clearly got what he had wanted- Grabbing the hair stuff he needed quickly he smirked. The Warlord hummed, knowing damn well what was to come soon.

In less then 5 hours his son was off running around with this girl- Mihawk saw how this girl and Alucare ran around the island together clearly he had wooed her a bit too well. Knowing that his son was plotting to win her heart and win something else before departing- The adventurous feeling of the sea clearly infecting him with wonder and interest. He had done the same, it came with being out on sea.

The day of the festival Mihawk was excited for all the wrong reason- Sure he was happy to get to spend the festive day with you but really he wanted to see the blow up that was about to happen-

A stolen kiss and a blushing of a innocent girl had Alucare confidence up and bolstered, even if he knew it may be cruel to do. On the second night Alucare snuck onto the ship, not expecting Mihawk to still be awake waiting for him as he cleaned his blade.

"You lied to her I take it?-" Mihawk asked, Already knowing the answer to the question. Alucare nodding silently-

"Her heart is going to be broken when she finds our you're leaving" He said calmly and met his sons gaze.

"That's why I won't tell her. Goodnight" He said shortly and headed to his Cabin on the ship. Mihawk shaking his head at this- Not under his watch.

Was this his live soap opera? Hell yes it was.

"Ready to head out back to sea Alucare? We need to leave by morning. Who is your friend here?" Mihawk said quite louder then his normal tone, purposely making sure the girl heard every word he said.

Once at the festival Alucare separated from you both rather quickly, most likely to enjoy himself elsewhere with the girl. Leaving the two of you alone to enjoy one another. The dancing, the food and even the drink had been fantastic. Seeing you dance and dress up for the lovely festivities had been worth every Berry he spent, the pretty festival clothes complimented you well and he couldn't help but keep his hands on you.

Truthfully having spent the day with you he had forgotten the whole ordeal with Alucare. Till he son his son running up a scenic hill for the firework show.

Staying for the fireworks with you he silently plotted what he would do. Knowing they would probably still be on that scenic hill once over- You were also pretty tuckered out and he didn't want to stress you or the baby. Getting you back to the ship to rest after the fireworks Mihawk set in his plan and went back out to the festive grounds to find his son and burst his little bubble.

"Ah there you are my Son" Mihawk said calmly as he walked towards the kissing teen couple- the two pulling away as Alucare eyes were as wide as saucers at being caught.

"Wait you're leaving?- You're family didn't move here?" She asked sharply, Alucare sending a murderous glare at his father. Not expecting the old man to not only catch him but also absolutely call him out on his bullshit.

"Seems so" He said nonchalantly, clearly trying to play it cool for being caught so bluntly. "It seems some things have changed so I will be leaving"

"You lied to me!" She hissed angrily, clenching her fist.

"I did-" He said calmly which made her angrier.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she fumed, Alucare stepping back as he tried to clearly step out of the emotional situation. However neither Mihawk nor Alucare expected what happened next- In a second she pulled back and pushing cheddar him square against the jaw with a bone bending strength.

Alucare stumbled back so hard Mihawk had to catch him and both their eyes were wide at such a hard punch from the little lady. Her eyes narrowed at both of them in anger and Mihawk had a wave of deja vu.

"I will not forget this Asshole!" She yelled, huffing as she stormed away angrily down the scenic hillside back to the village.

Mihawk standing Alucare up fully as both of them seemed a bit dazed. The two Dracule men walking back to the ship where you were waiting for them.

As Alucare boarded the ship he glanced to the side seeing his father with a amused gleam in his eyes as he waited for him to board.

"Was it fun heartbreaker?" He teased, earning a glare from the teenager as he grumbled and went on the ship. Ignoring the ache from his cheek which was sure to be blue and purple by the days end.

"Oh shut it-" Alucare grumbled as Mihawk gave a noise which was as close to a chuckle he got. Before the family retired to bed.

Once out to sea you had prepared your small family a meal and all seated in the ships small breakfast you scolded you son and gave him a ice pack for his swollen cheek.

"That was very unkind Alucare, I raised you better then that" You warn and he sighs at this, Accepting the verbal lashing he was getting from you.

"By the way- What was that poor girl's full name? You are going to send a apology to her" You tell him, still disappointed in your son for stealing that girls first kiss and lying to her.

Alucare paused his eating for a moment, thinking back "Beckman.. Lyra Beckman I believe-"

There was a mild choking noise from the older man, Mihawk sighed heavily at this as he rubbed his temple... Of fucking course it was...

[pucksandpower]

Think I Need Someone Older

Fernando Alonso x Ocon!Reader

Summary: you know you should stay away from your brother’s ex-teammate, but if it’s wrong, why does it feel so right?

Warnings: 18+ content, manipulation, pregnancy

You look around with wide eyes as you walk through the paddock, following your brother as he gives you a tour. This is your first time at a race weekend, and the excitement and nerves are battling inside you. Esteban has told you so much about his world, but seeing it in person is entirely different.

The smell of rubber and gasoline hangs thick in the air. Mechanics and engineers are buzzing around the garage, focused intensely on the sleek pink and blue car before them. Esteban places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you forward.

“Here she is,” he says proudly. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

You nod, eyes wide. The carbon fiber curves of the car seem to shimmer under the lights. Your gaze sweeps over it, drinking in every detail.

“She’s amazing,” you breathe.

Esteban grins. “Just wait until you see her on track.”

He keeps talking, but you’ve noticed a man walking towards you. Even in a paddock full of fit, athletic people, he stands out. Shorter than your tall brother, but compact and muscular. Dark hair sweeps across his forehead as he removes his sunglasses, revealing sharp brown eyes.

“Esteban,” he calls in a Spanish accent. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely companion?”

Your brother turns, smile fading. “Fernando. This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Fernando purrs. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He takes your hand, brushing a kiss over your knuckles.

You feel your cheeks flush even as Esteban frowns. Fernando’s touch lingers a beat too long before releasing you.

“Don’t you have a setup to work on?” Esteban says sharply.

Fernando shrugs, eyes still on you. “The car is nearly there. I thought I would come meet my new fan.”

“I’m sure Y/N doesn’t want to be bothered-”

“It’s no bother,” you interrupt. Fernando’s presence is magnetic in a way you can’t explain. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken.

He smiles. “There, you see? The lady wishes to talk.”

Esteban huffs but doesn’t argue further. Fernando slings an arm around your shoulders, guiding you away. You glance back at your brother’s glowering face but allow yourself to be led.

Fernando steers you to a quiet corner of the paddock, away from the bustle. Leaning against the wall, he gives you another long look over.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he says conversationally, “How does a girl like you end up with a brute like Esteban for a brother?”

You laugh, surprised by his bluntness. “He’s not so bad.”

“No? The man has the personality of a rock.” Fernando shakes his head. “I do not understand it. Such a warm, engaging young woman. And him — cold and dull as a fish.”

You bite your lip. It’s true your brother can be reserved, but-

“You barely know me,” you point out.

Fernando touches your chin lightly. “I know enough. I have an eye for these things.” His fingers trail down your neck, along your collarbone. You shiver.

“We only just met,” you whisper.

His mouth twitches. “You felt it too, no? A … connection.”

You’re no longer sure if it’s a connection or merely intoxication. Fernando’s presence envelops you like a drug.

“I ...” You falter, words failing.

Fernando leans in as though to kiss you. At the last second, he veers, lips grazing your ear instead.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he murmurs. It’s not a question.

You nod helplessly. Satisfied, Fernando pulls back, putting professional distance between you again. Yet his eyes continue undressing you.

Over his shoulder, you see Esteban approaching, scowling. Fernando follows your gaze and sighs.

“Until tonight, my dear.” He squeezes your hand and walks away.

Esteban reaches you, glaring between you and Fernando’s retreating back. “What did he want?”

You stare at the ground, afraid your expression will give everything away. “Nothing. Just … talking.”

Your brother snorts. “I’m sure. That man always has an agenda.” His eyes soften, noticing your discomfort. “Come on, let’s continue the tour.”

You let Esteban lead you back into the bustle of the garage, his concerns about Fernando fading as he delves into explanations about the car. But you aren’t really listening. Your thoughts swirl with the memory of Fernando’s touch, his lips, his hungry eyes. The things he made you feel with nothing more than a look.

You’ve never reacted to someone like this before. The impropriety of it — your brother’s rival, a man nearly twice your age — only heightens the exhilaration. You should be appalled by his forwardness. Instead, you’re counting down the minutes until you’ll be alone with him again.

Dinner tonight. Your heart races faster at the thought. What will happen there? What might have already happened if Esteban hadn’t interrupted?

You glance around, half expecting Fernando to be watching you still. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Esteban guides you to look more closely at the car, oblivious to your distraction.

You try to focus on your brother’s words, on the amazing machine in front of you. But your thoughts keep circling back to Fernando — his intensity, his confidence, the promise in his eyes.

This weekend just got a lot more interesting. Fernando looked ready to devour you whole. And despite yourself, you want to be consumed.

***

You smooth non-existent wrinkles from your dress for the tenth time, nerves making you fidget. The hotel restaurant lounge is busier than you expected for a Thursday night. Groups of team members, drivers, and media fill the tables, the air abuzz with a mix of languages.

Scanning the room, you don’t see Fernando yet. You chose this public place with the hope it would feel safer, less intimate than being alone with him in one of your hotel rooms. But now, the crowded restaurant only ramps up your anxiety.

You check your phone again. Still no texts from Fernando. Your foot taps impatiently.

“Y/N.”

You startle at the sound of your name purred in that accent. Turning, you find Fernando behind you, looking sharp in a tailored suit jacket and dark designer jeans. His gaze sweeps over you appreciatively.

“You look exquisite tonight.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks from the hunger in his eyes. You resist the urge to fidget with your dress again.

“Shall we?” He gestures to a table, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you.

You tense at the contact, hyper aware of every point his body meets yours as you walk. Fernando’s hand presses more firmly, as if enjoying your reaction.

At the table, he holds your chair out with exaggerated chivalry, letting his fingers trail across your bare shoulders. You suppress a shiver.

Once seated across from you, Fernando lounges comfortably in his chair, perfectly at ease. You envy his confidence. One look from his intense eyes still makes you blush furiously.

A waiter appears for your drink order. You ask for a white wine. Fernando requests an expensive Scotch.

Alone again, his gaze bores into you. “Now, where were we earlier? Before we were so rudely interrupted.”

You wet your dry lips. “I-I’m not sure that was ...”

“Appropriate?” Fernando supplies with a wolfish grin. “And here I thought you liked my hands on you.”

Your blush deepens. God, being around him is intoxicating. You can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud, though.

Fernando leans forward. “I see the way you look at me, Y/N. Like a woman who wants to be … pleased.”

His use of the euphemism makes you squirm even as heat pools low in your belly.

“You’re my brother’s rival,” you protest weakly.

Fernando shrugs. “All the more exciting, no?”

When you don’t respond, he sits back with a knowing look.

“You pretend to be a good girl. But I see the passion in you waiting to come out.”

The waiter returns with your drinks, providing a temporary respite. You sip your wine, grasping for composure.

Fernando continues watching you like a cat with a mouse. “Does Esteban know you’re out with me tonight?”

You shake your head. Your brother thinks you turned in early, exhausted from the day at the track. If he knew ...

“Sneaking around on a date with his rival.” Fernando tsks. “What would he think?”

“This isn’t a date,” you retort, but the denial sounds weak even to you.

“No? Then why so nervous?” His foot brushes against yours under the table. “Why so willing to deceive your dear brother?”

You have no response. Fernando sees right through you. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once.

His eyes glitter with victory. But his tone softens. “It is only dinner. No need for guilt.”

He refills your wine glass, coaxing you to relax as you order. The food provides a welcome distraction. He draws you into conversations about travel and music, keeping things casual. Bit by bit, your nerves unwind. Fernando is charming company when he wants to be.

You find yourself laughing at a story about his home in Spain. Your eyes meet and the air shifts. The easy rapport slips away, replaced by simmering tension.

Fernando’s fingers graze your hand resting on the table, tracing delicate patterns on your sensitive skin. Your breathing quickens.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs. “I wonder if all of you feels this good to touch.”

The images his words invoke make your head spin. His thumb strokes your wrist, feeling your racing pulse.

“Fernando ...” It comes out a half-moan.

Abruptly he releases you, sitting back. You stare, confused and bereft.

“Come.” Fernando stands, holding out a hand. “Walk with me.”

Heart pounding, you let him pull you up and guide you toward the exit. The night air hits your flushed cheeks. Fernando’s hand on your back urges you wordlessly down the street toward the harbor overlooking the city lights.

At the railing, he moves behind you, hands resting casually on your hips. You tense, every nerve aware of him surrounding you. His breath tickles your neck.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he commands softly.

You turn your head, body rigid. Fernando smiles, trailing a finger down your jaw. Eyes locked with yours, he presses closer until no space remains between you. Your lips part involuntarily. Triumph flashes in his expression.

“You want me to kiss you.” It’s not a question.

You close your eyes, unable to deny it. Fernando’s thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“Look at me,” he repeats.

You force your eyes open. His face fills your vision.

“Not here,” he says. “Not yet.”

You ache in frustration, but Fernando is immovable as stone. He releases you and steps back. The loss of his touch is a physical pain.

Turning you firmly, he nods at the view. “Enjoy the lights, hmm?”

On unsteady legs, you move to the railing. Fernando stands casually beside you once more. For long minutes, silence reigns.

When you finally chance a look at him, his lips twitch into a smug, satisfied grin.

“You’re playing games,” you accuse shakily.

He lifts an innocent brow. “Games? I merely enjoy a lovely view with a lovely woman.”

You frown, unconvinced. This whole evening has been him expertly stoking the fire between you, only to withdraw at the critical moment. It leaves you trembling with unfulfilled desire.

As if reading your mind, Fernando strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. “Patience, my sweet. I have no wish to rush this.” His eyes burn. “The anticipation will make your surrender so much sweeter.”

Surrender. The word sinks into your bones, igniting a yearning you don’t dare name.

Fernando glances at his watch. “Come. I will walk you back.”

The return to your hotel is silent, charged with restless energy. At your door, Fernando grasps your hand, raising it to his lips. The kiss undoes you in a way his mouth on yours might not have.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” A promise lurks beneath his polite words.

You watch him walk away down the hall before letting yourself into your room on wobbly legs. Collapsing back against the door, you close your eyes, body humming.

He was right about one thing. After tonight, you’ll never look at Fernando the same way again. And despite the unfulfilled desire burning through you, part of you thrills at his control, his patience.

You don’t know what this game between you is yet, or what price it might exact. But as you lay sleepless in tangled sheets, replaying each burning moment, one truth rings clear — you trust Fernando to take you wherever this desire leads. And you’re powerless to do anything but follow.

***

The next two days pass in a haze of stolen glances and brief, electric touches that leave you trembling. At the track or hotel, Fernando finds ways to brush against you, to whisper heated words in your ear when no one else is close. But he never pushes further, leaving you a tangled mess of growing need.

Tonight is the final night before the race, the paddock thick with tension and excitement. You pick at your food during the Alpine team dinner, eyes drifting to Fernando at a nearby table with Aston Martin. He meets your gaze with a knowing smirk but stays focused on his own group.

You all but flee back to your room afterward, nerves pulled tight. Pacing the floor, you debate going to him, giving in to this madness. A knock interrupts your thoughts.

You open the door to find Fernando, hunger etched on his face. He steps inside, backing you to the wall. Caging you in place with his body, he strokes a finger down your cheek.

“No more waiting, I think,” he murmurs.

You sway toward him but Fernando holds you firmly in place, denying what you crave. His lips graze your ear instead.

“Say you want me, Y/N. I need to hear you say it.”

You shudder, clinging to the last frayed threads of resistance. Sensing it, he drifts lower, tongue and teeth teasing your neck in a way that ruins you. A gasp escapes your lips.

“Say it,” Fernando commands, the words vibrating against your skin.

“I-I want you,” you breathe, the admission cracking you open.

Triumph flares in his eyes. Then his mouth is on yours, claiming you in a fierce kiss. Weeks of pent-up desire explode as he devours you against the wall. Your fingers twist in his shirt, urgent sounds escaping between kisses.

When you’re both breathless, Fernando pulls back. Eyes wild, he strips off your dress in rough motions, leaving you in only lace undergarments. Ravenous hands explore your newly exposed skin.

“So perfect, just as I knew you would be.”

He lifts you effortlessly and you wrap your legs around his waist. Carrying you to the bed, he lays you across the sheets. You reach for him desperately but he catches your wrists, pinning them over your head.

“I am in control here. Understood?”

You nod, writhing beneath him. With a pleased growl, Fernando releases you to strip away the rest of your clothes. Then he’s above you again, letting you feel his need as he grinds against your aching core. Even through layers of clothing, it makes you dizzy with want.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands.

“You, Fernando, only you,” tumbles from your lips.

With a satisfied smile, he sits back to remove the rest of his own clothes, eyes scorching your bare skin. Then he covers you once more, warm skin against skin, teasing your entrance as his mouth finds your breasts.

Your head falls back, lost in sensation, but Fernando grips your chin. “Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I claim you.”

Holding your gaze, he enters you in one long stroke. The feeling of him filling you so completely wrenches a shattered moan from your lips. Fernando gives you no chance to adjust, pulling back only to drive into you again and again. You cling to him helplessly, taken over by a pleasure so intense it borders pain.

Fernando murmurs filthy praise and endearments in your ear as he possesses you. When his pace quickens, you shatter around him with a keening cry. He follows you over the edge with a growl soon after.

Still buried inside you, he brushes damp hair back from your face. “Such a good girl,” he praises, stroking your cheeks.

You cling to him, overwhelmed with sensation, with intimacy like you’ve never known. Fernando kisses you lazily before withdrawing to lay beside you. He gathers you close against his chest.

“Sleep now. You will need your rest to watch me win tomorrow.”

His arrogant assurance makes you laugh weakly. Fernando smiles, eyes softening.

“Laugh now if you wish. But after tomorrow, your brother will be the one sulking.”

His mention of Esteban pierces through the haze of bliss. Guilt twists your stomach. With everything that just happened, you forgot entirely about your brother.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Fernando tilts your chin up. “Do not look so troubled, hmm? Esteban need never know.”

You bite your lip. “He won’t approve. He warned me about you.”

Amusement flickers in Fernando’s eyes. “Did he now? And yet here you are.” His expression grows serious. “I will not share you, Y/N. Not even with family.”

The words, though alarming, send a thrill through you. To be wanted so possessively is disturbingly intoxicating. You know you should pull away, but you’ve already crossed so many lines tonight.

Fernando kisses you again, more gently this time. “Sleep, my sweet. No more worrying.”

Wrapped securely in his arms, you let the steady rhythm of his breathing lull you under. Everything else can wait for tomorrow. Tonight, you simply need to feel Fernando surrounding you, keeping you safe in the shelter of his embrace. Whatever comes next, you know you are his now. For better or worse.

***

Morning light streams through the curtains, rousing you from dreams of warm skin and demanding touches. For a moment, you reach across rumpled sheets, expecting to find Fernando’s solid form beside you. But you’re alone.

Sitting up, you spot a piece of hotel stationery on the pillow, his bold script across it:

Y/N,

Last night was magnificent. I wish I could wake to your beautiful face, but it is race day and I must prepare. Tonight, we celebrate properly. Wear something special for me.

Yours,

F

You trace the letters, a complicated mix of emotions swirling through you. The sheer joy of last night, giving in fully to each other. The guilt that creeps in with morning’s harsh light. Uncertainty of what comes next.

But most powerful of all is the magnetic pull towards him, this man who looked inside you and saw something even you didn’t know was there. Fernando unlocked it effortlessly, leaving you craving more.

Your phone buzzes with a message from Esteban, jolting you fully back to reality. He’s checking that you will be in Alpine hospitality for the race. You text back a vague confirmation, stomach twisting. Facing your brother today, pretending everything is fine while memories of Fernando claiming you play on repeat in your head, will be its own special kind of torment.

You take extra time getting ready, needing the armor of makeup and nice clothes before seeing the team. When you finally make your way trackside, the chaos of race day surrounds you. The garages burst with activity as crews make final preparations. Fans pose for photos and scramble for autographs. But your eyes scan only for Fernando.

You find him outside the Aston Martin garage, surrounded by engineers and PR reps going over last minute details. His race suit is unzipped to the waist, undershirt clinging to his toned chest. Fernando looks up and meets your gaze, desire flashing hot and quick across his face before he masks it.

Heart pounding, you flee to the Alpine suite before he can approach. The morning passes in a tense haze of avoiding Fernando and trying not to show your turmoil. You pick at food, choke down drinks, focus on breathing evenly.

When it’s time for driver introductions, Esteban finds you, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“Wish me luck out there today,” he says with a boyish grin.

You try to smile back naturally. “Good luck. I’ll be cheering for you.” The lie burns your tongue.

Esteban hurries off to prepare and you make your way trackside, pushing through throngs of fans to get a view of the grid. On the big screens, you watch the orchestrated chaos of the buildup.

Your breath catches as Fernando comes into view, prowling the asphalt in his fireproofs like a predator. His confidence and command fill the space around him.

The sight of your lover gearing up to battle your brother is surreal. But the excitement shining in Fernando’s eyes triggers an answering heat in you, eclipsing any conflicted emotions.

As the cars line up on the grid for final preparations, you spot Fernando scanning the crowd. When his gaze locks with yours, he presses two fingers to his lips then holds them out towards you.

Blood pounds in your ears. Everything else fades away except him. In this moment, nothing else matters but the connection between you.

The start lights flash and the cars roar to life, rocketing down the track. You’re jostled by the surging crowd of Alpine guests but keep your eyes glued to the screen, following Fernando’s bright green car. He keeps pace near the front of the pack, battling for position on each turn.

When he overtakes Esteban, your pulse leaps. You shouldn’t want your brother defeated, but the thrill of watching Fernando drive is too powerful.

The race unfolds lap by lap. Fernando runs a flawless strategy, overtaking rivals and avoiding risks. Esteban has moments of brilliance but spends more time defending his position than attacking.

In the closing laps, Fernando emerges through the chaos at the front of the pack, keeping two challengers at bay to the checkered flag. Your heart leaps as he takes the victory to the roar of the crowd around you.

On screen, Fernando pumps his fist before peeling off his gear and climbing atop his car for celebratory photos. Even with helmet hair and soaked in sweat, he looks like a warrior king surveying his territory. Exultant. Dominant. Yours.

The screens cut to Esteban climbing from his car in the midfield, frustration etched on his face. Your joy dims slightly, guilt creeping back in. Seeing your brother’s defeat firsthand twists your stomach.

But before regret can take hold, your phone buzzes with a message from Fernando.

Come celebrate with the conquering hero. My room tonight.

Any hint of doubt burns away. Esteban will have the rest of the team to console him. Tonight, you belong to Fernando.

The hours until the evening crawl by. You pace your room, unsure what to expect from the night. At last, dressed in a slinky black dress, you make your way to Fernando’s room.

He opens the door bare-chested, hair still damp from the shower. Hunger flashes in his eyes as he looks you over.

“Exquisite. Come here, my sweet.”

He draws you inside, mouth finding yours. You melt into him, the kiss deep and claiming. This time when Fernando backs you against the wall, you arch into him, wanting more. But he lifts you effortlessly instead, carrying you to the bed.

“I believe a celebration is in order.”

With deliberate care, he peels your dress away, hands roaming your newly bared skin. Stretched out beneath him, you let Fernando relearn every inch of you, patient this time, focused only on your pleasure.

By the time he finally joins your bodies, you’re drunk on sensation, clinging to him desperately. Fernando’s pace builds unhurriedly, drawing out your ecstasy until you shatter around him with a cry. He follows after, praising you again and again as he finds his own peak.

This time when he gathers you close afterwards, there is no guilt, no conflict in your sated bliss. You know with absolute clarity that this man owns every piece of you now, mind, body and soul. And you would give yourself to him again and again, consequences be damned. For in Fernando’s arms, you feel truly alive for the first time.

***

The end of the race weekend approaches too quickly. You wish you could freeze time, stay wrapped up in Fernando without the outside world intruding. But reality awaits.

On the flight home, Fernando secures you a seat beside him, hidden away in a secluded corner of the private jet. He slips his jacket over your entwined hands, shielding touches and whispered words from prying eyes.

“I want you in Spain as soon as possible,” he murmurs. “No more sneaking around.”

You lean into him. “I want that too.”

The stolen moments already feel unbearable after having him so completely. Fernando smiles, fingers stroking your cheek.

“Soon, my love. I will show you my home, my life there. We will never be apart.”

His words paint a picture more tempting than you can resist. Still, doubts creep in.

“What about Esteban?” You whisper. “My family here?”

Fernando’s eyes harden. “Your life is with me now. They will understand in time.” He grips your hand tighter. “I share you with no one.”

You know you should argue, but the command in his voice thrills you too much. Esteban will be furious when he learns the truth. Yet the thought of losing Fernando cuts far deeper. Your brother will forgive you eventually. But losing Fernando would break you.

At the airport, Fernando kisses you fiercely, heedless of anyone who might see.

“I will come for you soon,” he vows. “Be ready.”

Over the next weeks, you make discreet plans and excuses, preparing to leave your old life behind. Fernando texts and calls when he can, reminding you what awaits. The life he paints, together in his Spanish villa, sounds like a fairytale.

Too soon, though, reality intrudes again. Alpine invites you to a sponsorship dinner before the following race. Declining would raise Esteban’s suspicions, so you accept reluctantly.

You take pains with your appearance that evening, needing the armor. But when Esteban greets you with an affectionate hug, guilt pierces through.

“I’m so glad you could come, little sister. It’s been too long.”

You blink back tears, letting him escort you inside. Other team members welcome you warmly, expressing what a delight it is to see you again. Their kindness cuts sharpest of all.

The only balm is Fernando, across the restaurant with Aston Martin again. His gaze finds you, a question in his eyes. You give a small, reassuring nod. This changes nothing.

Dinner passes in a tense haze of pushing food around your plate and avoiding wine, afraid your fragile composure will crack. You make excuses to leave early, feigning jet lag.

Esteban walks you out, frowning when you evade his offer to get dessert somewhere.

“Everything okay? You seem distracted tonight.”

The concern in his voice nearly breaks you. But before you lose your nerve, a sleek silver car pulls up, back door opening. Fernando steps out, beckoning you.

Your brother’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “What the hell is this?”

“Esteban-”

“Did you know he would be here?” Esteban demands. “What are you doing with him, Y/N?”

You back away, tears escaping. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Go? You’re leaving? With him?” Esteban looks between you and Fernando, comprehension dawning. “No. No you would never ...” He grabs your wrist.

Fernando is there in an instant, prying Esteban’s grip off easily. He pulls you behind him, staring your brother down.

“Do not touch her again,” Fernando warns, danger in his tone.

Esteban’s face twists in anger and betrayal. “She is my sister, not yours to take.”

“She belongs with me.” Fernando’s absolute conviction brooks no argument. “Accept that, and we will have no quarrel.”

He turns, guiding you gently into the waiting car. Needing to see Esteban one last time, you glance back. The hurt and confusion in his eyes tears at your heart.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper as the car pulls away. Fernando cradles you close as sobs wrack your frame. Grief wars with relief now that everything is in the open.

“Hush now, he will understand in time,” Fernando soothes, stroking your hair.

When your tears slow, he tips your chin up. His eyes shine with possession and pride. “You are mine now. Truly mine. Are you ready?”

You nod, no doubts left, your fate sealed. Fernando kisses you until the lingering guilt washes away. By the time you fall asleep cradled against his chest, you feel only peace. Your future stretches before you, boundless and breathtaking at Fernando’s side.

Stepping into it will mean losing so much and gaining even more. The path will not be easy, but with Fernando’s hand clasping yours, you know you can weather any coming storms.

This is your destiny now. All your broken, scattered pieces made whole in his arms. And you will let nothing stand between you, consequences be damned. For your heart belongs to Fernando alone.

***

The months that follow are bliss and agony.

Fernando whisks you away to his estate in Asturias as promised. There, you settle effortlessly into domestic life with him, days filled with sunshine, languid meals on the veranda, and nights spent tangled in silken sheets. Fernando dotes on you, lavishing you with attention and affection. Under his guidance, you blossom, leaving your past self behind.

Yet the guilt lingers. Esteban refuses your calls and texts, cutting you out fully. Your parents write you off as bewitched when you try to explain. Only Fernando’s steady reassurance gets you through those dark hours when you fear you’ve lost your family forever.

“They will come around, my love,” he murmurs against your hair. “One day they will understand this was destiny. That we belong together.”

Privately, you pray he’s right. Your new life feels hollow without your brother’s laughter and your parents’ warm hugs. But Fernando fills the void as best he can, surrounding you with his love.

As summer wanes into fall, you throw yourself into supporting Fernando’s training regimen and race preparations. The coming season will be pivotal for him at Aston Martin. You’re determined to be the perfect partner — encouraging yet not demanding, understanding of his grueling schedule and focus.

You savor each moment at home between races. Fernando takes you sailing along the coast, shows you his favorite local villages, and teaches you to cook traditional dishes. At night, his touch erases the lingering ache of your family’s rejection.

When race weekends come, you follow Fernando dutifully, maintaining a low profile. Those around the paddock eye you with curiosity and judgment, but their opinions matter little. Only Fernando’s happiness concerns you now.

The races become a test of will. Watching Esteban battle to succeed with Alpine as you lurk in the Aston Martin garage twists your stomach. But you bear the pain, focusing on Fernando’s victories and commiserating during setbacks. Your efforts earn you his praise and devotion. Slowly, the paddock gossip fades to background noise.

Months pass in a blissful haze. Fernando secures key podiums, cementing himself as a title contender. Off track, he takes you traveling during breaks — Switzerland, Dubai, the Maldives. The outside world and its judgements fade away.

When Fernando wins the season finale, you greet him with a tearful smile, so proud of his achievement. Lifting you off your feet, he swings you in giddy circles before capturing your mouth in a crushing kiss. Cameras flash all around, but his eyes see only you.

“This victory is yours too, my love,” he declares later that night, still elated. “You give me strength.”

Curled in his arms, you cling tightly, overwhelmed with emotion. Fernando has proven your faith in him justified, in both racing and your life together. Whatever sacrifices you made, his love has been worth it.

In the glow of Fernando’s championship, the offseason flies by. Before you know it, new season preparations are underway. Fernando secures a multi-year contract extension with Aston Martin, cementing his status as their star driver.

When you arrive for pre-season testing, the garage buzzes with anticipation. Fernando struts with authoritative confidence, embracing his role as the team’s champion leader. He draws you close when you appear, kissing you soundly.

“Look at them stare now,” he murmurs smugly. “You are untouchable.”

It’s true. No one dares whisper anymore when you pass. Fernando’s stature grants you protection, and with it, a new confidence. You hold your head high, welcoming the envious glances.

One person’s attention, however, you try desperately to avoid. Esteban keeps his distance, but you catch him watching sometimes, face unreadable. The renewed pain of his estrangement cuts deep. You cling to Fernando’s side throughout testing, avoiding any risk of confrontation.

On the final test day, you beg off going to the garage, emotionally drained. Fernando is reluctant but acquiesces to your needs, dropping you at the hotel to rest.

By late afternoon, guilt creeps in. You should be supporting Fernando now, not wallowing. Before you can lose courage, you head back to the track.

The Aston Martin bay is empty when you arrive, the garage eerily quiet. You’re about to turn and look elsewhere when hushed voices catch your ear. Fernando’s unmistakable accent, and one achingly familiar.

Heart pounding, you creep toward the sound, peeking around a supply crate. Fernando and Esteban stand mere feet apart, tension radiating between them. Your brother’s hands clench at his sides.

“I want to see her,” Esteban demands.

Fernando scoffs. “You lost that right long ago.”

“She is my sister-”

“She is mine,” Fernando cuts in sharply. “You rejected her. I gave her the life she deserves.”

Esteban flinches. “I was hurt. Angry. But she is still family.” His eyes turn pleading. “Just let me talk to her, Fernando. Please.”

Your heart lurches, desperate to run to him. But Fernando stands immobile as stone.

“No. I have seen how you make her cry and doubt herself. She is happy now, and I will not let you ruin that.”

“I just want to know she’s okay-”

“She is perfect.” Fernando steps closer, looming. “Go back to your garage and your racing, little boy. Y/N is no concern of yours anymore.”

Esteban’s face twists. For a moment it seems he might shove Fernando back. But finally he deflates, defeat in the slump of his shoulders.

Your brother turns without a word, nearly reaching your hiding spot before stopping short. His eyes find yours, widening in shock.

“Y/N ...” he breathes.

You stare, frozen. Esteban takes a half step toward you, hand extended. The months apart feel erased, love and longing surging-

“Y/N.” Fernando’s sharp voice lashes like a whip. You jolt from the spell, tears burning your eyes.

Esteban’s face crumbles. But he only nods once, a goodbye, before walking away.

Fernando is at your side instantly, clutching you close, a hand cradling your head as you tremble against him.

“You see now?” He murmurs. “He only wishes to hurt you more.”

You cling tighter, the echo of your name on Esteban’s lips haunting you. Burying your face in Fernando’s chest, you let him soothe away the renewed ache, the hope dying again.

Later back at the hotel, Fernando undresses you with gentle reverence, worshiping every inch of exposed skin until thoughts of your brother scatter.

“You are everything I need, my sweet,” he vows as your bodies join. “Only you.”

You know it’s true. Whatever Esteban hopes to reclaim, too much has changed now. The girl he knew is gone. Your fate lies with Fernando alone.

So you let your lover consume you with pleasure until nothing else remains. And when Fernando’s possessive whispers of ‘mine’ finally lull you to sleep, Esteban’s haunted eyes cannot follow.

***

And then a surprise is tossed your way. You throw yourself into preparing the villa for a baby, grateful for the distraction. Fernando dotes on you even more than usual, making sure you want for nothing.

At night, he lays you back with utmost tenderness, hands and lips caressing your changing form.

“You grow more radiant each day, my love,” he murmurs. “Motherhood suits you beautifully.”

Privately, you hope the coming baby might also soften your estranged family’s hearts. But Fernando shuts down any mention of reconciling.

“All we need is right here,” he insists, cradling your belly. “Our child will want for nothing.”

You try to take comfort in his words. With the new life growing inside you, loneliness for lost family cuts deepest of all. But you swallow the hurt, focusing on what lies ahead.

As your due date nears, Fernando reluctantly leaves for preseason activities. You encourage him to concentrate on racing, hiding any lingering sadness. This year must be his best yet with a child on the way.

The season opener comes quickly. Fernando wants you resting comfortably at home, but you insist on being there to support him. After lengthy persuasion, he concedes.

Stepping back into the paddock on Fernando’s arm, you keep your head high despite stares following your pregnant belly. Let them judge and gossip. You and Fernando know the truth.

Seeing the Aston Martin crew embrace you and Fernando as family sparks an ache you thought long buried. With Esteban still refusing contact, this child will have only one doting uncle on the grid in Carlos Sainz.

During the race weekend, you catch Esteban watching you pensively across the paddock several times. Each glimpse cuts like a knife. He always looks away quickly, his expression unreadable.

Sunday unfolds in a chaotic blur of pre-race pageantry and tension. From the cozy Aston Martin hospitality suite, you cheer loudly as Fernando battles fiercely for position. In the closing laps, he makes a daring pass to claim a hard-fought podium.

When Fernando emerges from the cool down room, still elated, he makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you up carefully, he kisses you passionately, heedless of the room’s occupants. You cling tightly, swallowing against stubborn tears.

The bittersweet reunion is broken by Carlos, swooping in to hug you both. He presses a hand to your belly with a grin.

“Let me properly meet my future sobrino or sobrina!”

His joyful fussing over you makes your heart clench. Glancing to the back of the room, you find Esteban watching silently, an array of emotions on his face.

As Carlos distractedly moves on to congratulate other drivers, Esteban turns and slips away. Impulse seizes you. Murmuring an excuse to Fernando, you hurry after your brother before he disappears.

You catch Esteban at the elevator, grasping his arm. He tenses but doesn’t pull away, eyes dropping briefly to your belly before meeting your gaze.

“Can we talk?” You plead breathlessly. “Just for a minute?”

Esteban hesitates, glancing down the hall where sounds of celebration continue. Finally he nods, gesturing you into the empty elevator.

The doors close and awkward silence descends. Now that you have him here, you’re lost for words.

Esteban breaks the tension gently. “You look happy. Pregnancy suits you.”

You offer a tentative smile. “I am happy. This baby will have two loving parents.” You bite your lip before adding, “But it could use an uncle too.”

Esteban looks startled, then conflicted. “Fernando would never allow it.”

You shake your head. “I don’t need his permission. Or yours.” Taking Esteban’s hand, you squeeze tightly. “You’re my family. I know we can’t go back to before, but can’t we find some way forward? For the baby’s sake? For mine?”

Esteban searches your face, hesitant. You see the longing warring with old hurts.

“Please,” you whisper. “I miss my brother.”

Your pleading eyes break him. Esteban crushes you into a hug just as the elevator doors open. You cling to each other, both crying.

Footsteps approach and you pull back to see Fernando standing there, concern fading to understanding. Over Esteban’s shoulder, you gaze at your lover beseechingly.

Fernando’s jaw tightens. For a moment, you fear he’ll force you to choose again. But then his eyes soften, nodding once. Relief crashes over you.

Esteban turns, instinctively shielding you protectively. Fernando raises a pacifying hand.

“It seems we have much to discuss.” His mouth quirks wryly. “Shall we find somewhere calmer?”

Cautious hope dawns on Esteban’s face. Together, the three of you retreat to a private corner of the Aston Martin motorhome. There, awkwardly at first, you begin reconciling.

It’s not quick or easy after so much hurt. But you now have a child’s future to consider. Heart by heart, the ice thaws between the men who both love you in different ways. They will never be friends, yet reach an understanding.

When Fernando pulls you close and whispers, “Whatever you need to be happy, my love,” you know this olive branch is genuine. You kiss him tenderly, letting your joy speak for you.

In the weeks and months that follow, bonds slowly rebuild between you and your family. Fernando keeps his promise, welcoming Esteban into your lives, albeit warily at times. He seems to take pride in your returning happiness, though.

Your daughter’s birth months later cements the change. A redemptive joy surrounds you as she’s passed gently into Esteban’s arms. Fernando looks on with unmatched tenderness, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Our family is complete now,” he murmurs. And you know it’s true.

The years that follow hold challenges and triumphs, heartbreak and healing. You watch your little girl grow surrounded by love. She becomes the bridge connecting two worlds once torn apart.

There are times old wounds threaten to reopen. Jealousies flare, harsh words spoken in anger. But you face each crisis together, choosing reconciliation over rupture. And your family emerges stronger for it.

At your daughter’s second birthday party, you pause during the chaos to take it all in. Fernando whirls the giggling birthday girl around while Esteban looks on grinning. Music and laughter surround you.

Watching your child beam, you feel only joy now, and gratitude. However painful the path, every sacrifice was worth it to arrive at this peace. You know the bonds connecting you now can weather any storm life may bring.

Fernando catches your eye, blowing you a kiss. His love gave you courage once to chase an impossible dream. Now you stand surrounded by the reality — a family woven together by resilience and forgiveness.

Your daughter toddles to you and you sweep her up, kissing every inch of her sweet face as she squeals. Over her shoulder, you meet Fernando’s proud eyes. In them you see the past, present, and future. And you know — you would do it all again a thousand times for this happiness you’ve found.

[chrisbitchtree]

Robin was standing behind the counter at Family Video, complaining about the weather as she fanned herself with a pad of paper. Steve stood beside her, staring absently out the front window as she rambled on.

“…then it was 53° yesterday, with that crazy wind, and now today it’s 80°. I’m sweating my ass off because I have no clue how to dress! I’m sick of this. Aren’t you?”

Outwardly, Steve nodded in agreement as he picked up a stack of videos that needed to be returned to the shelves, but inwardly, he couldn’t say he was frustrated at all.

See, it was the middle of September, so it should have been consistently cooler by then. Along with the loss of summer weather, Steve had mourned the loss of Billy Hargrove’s tanned, muscled legs in shorts. But, with this up and down weather they’d been having, Steve was getting the best of both worlds, Billy in shorts some days, and others, his ass on display in the world’s tightest jeans.

Billy was a frequent presence at Family Video. Steve had no clue whether he frequented the shop before Steve and Robin started working there a few weeks back, but he can say that the other boy was there almost daily now.

As if on cue, the door to the shop opened, the bell above it jangling, and in sauntered Billy Hargrove, clad in a white t-shirt and cutoff denim shorts. They were way shorter than what was appropriate for school, but Steve definitely wasn’t complaining.

From inside his book bag, Billy produced two VHS tapes, and Steve looked over at Robin, expecting her to be at the cash to accept the return, but she was suspiciously absent from the front of the shop. He peeked into the back, but didn’t see here there either. Steve sighed, setting down the last few tapes he was holding and preparing himself for Billy’s teasing as he headed to the till.

“Hey Hargrove,” he said by way of greeting as he took the tapes from Billy’s hands, scanning the first one.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Billy replied. “I like your hair today. It’s even bigger and fluffier than usual. Was that for me?” A wolfish grin covered his face as he moved to touch it, but Steve swatted his hand away before he could.

Billy was right, Steve had taken extra time and care when doing his hair that day because he knew he’d most likely see the other boy at the shop, but he hated being called out on it, especially by Billy himself.

He wished he could just be left alone with his stupid crush until it fizzled out, but Billy kept feeding into it, and sometimes, late at night, Steve would be able to convince himself that Billy felt the same way about him, but by light of day, it was clear that he was just having a great time making Steve feel like an idiot in ways that he hadn’t been able to since Steve had graduated in May.

After Steve had processed the return, Billy took his time perusing the shelves, this time in the comedy section. With how frequently he was there, Steve figured he was going to run out of ones he wanted to watch soon, but he must have found some, because before long, he was heading back up to the front with two movies in hand.

Steve looked around for Robin, but of course she was still nowhere to be found. Where the fuck was she?

Steve scanned the new movies and told Billy his total. As Billy pulled out his wallet, he dropped it to the ground. “Oops”, he said, catching Steve’s eye for a second before turning around and bending over to grab it off the floor. For five blissful seconds, Steve had a perfect view of Billy’s ass. Sadly enough, that small window of time totally made his day.

Billy stood, paid, grabbed his movies and left, not saying anything else.

“You know he likes you too, right?” Robin asked, appearing out of thin air as the door closed behind Billy.

“Really?” Steve replied before he caught himself. “I mean, no he doesn’t. And what do you mean too? I don’t even like guys, let alone Billy Hargrove.”

Robin laughed. “First, sure, tell yourself you don’t have a massive crush on him, but I see the way you look at him, and the panic on your face every time he comes in here. You’re crushing hardcore. Second, all the teasing is just to get your attention, Dingus. He just wants to get to you, he doesn’t care how he has to do it. And those shorts, they’re not what he was wearing at school today. He changed into them just to come here. He’s down bad. So please do something about it before you drive yourself, Billy, and me insane.” With that, she grabbed a stack of returns and headed to the shelves.

Steve just stared after her, speechless. He was an expert at getting the girl, but something told him wooing Billy Hargrove was going to be a whole other ballgame. He sure hoped he was up for the challenge.

[aemondsbabe]

Two Souls, Entwined

summary: dreams & dirty talk || helaena has been plagued with visions; things between her and her lady in waiting finally reach a boiling point

pairing: helaena targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, mutual pining, angst but happy ending, dry humping, breast/nipple play, dirty talk but make it poetic and loving, slight aegon slander i broke my own heart, i love helaena sm, there needs to be more content for her i love her, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 4.1k

a/n: happy day ten of 12 days of smuff!! i'm actually very excited/proud of this one, it got a lot more personal than i was expecting! really feeding that scared bi girl i was in middle school idk. i hope y'all enjoy it!!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @merrypembertons

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Helaena sighs when she opens her eyes and blinks, disoriented by the early morning light, her head still clouded with sleep. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers to the emptiness of her chambers, the cryptic phrase a familiar one now as it had been making its home in her head for the past few weeks. 

Sitting up with a groan, she pauses at the edge of her bed, staring blankly ahead as the cloudy figures from her dream seem to swirl around her still. She was growing frustrated with the shadowy shapes, as much as she hated to admit it – she did not often enjoy her dreams, they often brought news of unpleasant tidings, secrets that she alone seemed expected to bear, but for the past few weeks her dreams had been… pleasant. Joyous, in fact. Yet they seemed much further away than the others, only revealing small slivers of information to her night after night. 

She smiles softly as she gives one last glance out the window before padding over to the vanity in her chambers, determined to brush out her hair before the maids have the chance, they were always too rushed and hurried. Her mind drifts back to her dream as she runs a comb through her fair hair; lately, this mysterious dream seemed to be the only thing she could focus on for very long. 

The figure in it seemed so familiar, moving around her as if it was an old friend, someone safe. She sighed again as she thought, blushing despite herself as she recalled her latest vision, remembering how the shadow had moved about her, as if in a courting dance, before it leaned in closely, though if it were for a kiss or to whisper a secret she didn’t know. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” She repeats, as if the repeating will somehow reveal more. 

It puzzles her greatly, the feelings of safety mixed with distinct romantic desire, a deep wanting from somewhere within her. There aren’t many people she even feels safe around, and even less so those she’d ever felt romantic longing for, and a much shorter list followed of people who had ever felt romantic longing for her. She feels secure around her mother, of course, and grandsire and her precious younger brothers, but she cannot help but wrinkle her nose with disgust at the thought of romantic intent with any of them.

She blinks, setting her hairbrush down and biting her lip as she thinks. I feel safe with Aegon, she ponders, brows knitting together, He’s never given me a reason to not feel safe but… She sighs, not bothering to finish the thought. She was well aware her marriage was one of politics, not of love. She remembers there had been whispers of many suitors when she’d finally come of age; everyone from Aegon and Aemond to her half-sister’s bastard sons had been considered, and though Helaena appreciated some more than others… she didn’t desire any of them. 

Before she can help herself, her blue eyes flit over her own curves as she gazes at herself in the mirror, wishing, as she had so many times before, that she could reach out and feel her own reflection – feel a mirrored twin with similar soft skin and supple flesh. She wishes that soft, delicate fingers could touch her as well; she had grown tired of rough, battle worn touches long ago. 

Someone I feel safe with and feel romantic longing for, she thinks again, blinking rapidly as a familiar face immediately springs to mind yet again, just as it had every time she’d pondered this mystery for the last few weeks, only growing more frustrated. It can’t be, she’d decided that long ago, long before this vision began. 

But...

The Gods only ever seemed to show her visions that were assured, that would come to fruition, one way or another. Maybe… maybe that meant that y–

No, she thought, locking eyes with her reflection, Don’t be ridiculous. 

She smiles as she hears her chamber doors opening, at the same time they do every morning, and turns around on the ornate, cushioned chair at her vanity, her eyes locking with your familiar ones as you waltz it. 

“Good morning, Princess,” her heart beats a mite faster at the sound of your voice, at the bright smile that graces your lips as you stride to her, “I trust you slept well?”

“Good morning, sweet friend,” she greets you brightly, standing and pulling you into a hug as she did every day, “I did, quite peacefully, actually. And you?” She asked, trying to ignore the small voice that longed to hold you more closely, as she did everyday. 

“I did as well,” your hand lingers in hers for a moment as she steps away, sitting back at her vanity as the maids arrive, instantly fluttering around the two of you like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, “After we break fast, would you like to come to the gardens with me?”

Helaena merely nods, though inside she buzzes, her heart fluttering like a bird’s wings. 

I would follow you into the Seven Hells, she longs to say. 

You wake with a small start, your hand instantly flying to your lips. You could swear they still tingle for a second from when she’d kissed you, just before you’d woken up. Blushing, you glance around your chambers, as if there would be anyone else there, and finding them empty leaves you both relieved and disappointed all at once. 

Sighing, you slide off of your plush bed and walk over to your small vanity and use the small wash basin to splash water on your face. A small thrill shoots up your spine as you glance over your shoulder in the mirror, knowing from the position of the light filtering through your windows that it’s nearly time to go find your friend. 

Friend.

It’s a funny word, you think, not one you would have imagined assigning to the princess all the many years ago when you’d arrived at King’s Landing, young and eager to be a lady in waiting for Helaena. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your lips each time you think of her, your quiet, captivating princess. You meet your own gaze in the mirror and frown, looking at yourself in the way a disappointed parent would look at a child. 

Not yours, you chide, like repeating it over and over would make it hurt any less, Not yours, not yours, not yours. 

Sighing yet again, you rise from your spot at the vanity and quickly grab your robes, eager to escape your own thoughts. 

“This one is the iphiclides podalirius,” Helaena says, her voice soft as she marvels at the delicate butterfly perched on the back of her hand, “More commonly called the scarce swallowtail, I believe. It’s truly remarkable, normally they don’t travel this far north, though I’m told they’re a common sight in the gardens of Sunspear.”

“Then we are quite lucky to see it,” you smile, setting your embroidery hoop on the bench beside you as you study the yellow and black striped insect, though your eyes seem to drift to the princess on their own; you can’t help but smile as you see the way her beautiful sapphire eyes light up as she examines the small creature, “It’s very beautiful.”

Like you, you think, swallowing down the words. 

“Would you like to hold her?” Helaena asks, looking at you hopefully. 

As always, you nod, aware that you were the only one who seemed to entertain her fascination with insects and plants. Selfishly, you liked that. 

Slowly and carefully, Helaena guides the butterfly onto the back of your hand; the two of you sitting close together, close enough for your shoulders to press together. A giggle leaves you at the feel of the insect's feet on your skin, so small and light, like tiny, faint kisses.  

“Perhaps she was drawn to the hydrangeas,” the princess muses, “Those are new this year, though I suppose any of the other very colorful plants would spark her fancy as well, like the lilac or poppies or…”

It takes you a second to notice that she’s gone quiet next to you and you finally tear your gaze away from the butterfly, frowning slightly when you see the look on her face, her blue eyes hazy and unfocused as they flit back and forth like she’s watching figures you cannot see. 

“Princess?” You ask softly, reaching out to take her hand, only halfway aware of the butterfly fluttering away, “Helaena?” You ask again, a bit louder, gripping her hand tighter. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers, so faintly that the words scarcely leave her lips. Your frown only deepens, your eyebrows knitting together as you shake your head, trying to make sense of her words. 

“What?” You ask softly, used to hearing her mutter odd phrases but seeing her in a trance was something altogether different, “Helaena? Should I go fetch the maester?” You don’t know why you ask her, not expecting a response. 

The figure danced in front of her again, clouded in darkness, though instead of feeling cold and empty like the dark so often did to her, these shadows hugged Helaena like a blanket. 

She blinked, and suddenly everything changed, becoming clear as if she’d blinked away tears. The clarity was startling for a second as the edges of the figure sharpened before her, still leaning toward her as if it meant to whisper an amorous secret.

Finally, her eyes focused and in that moment, she felt as if she could be knocked over by the air current made from the flittery wings of a butterfly. 

You. 

It was you, just as she’d always suspected, standing before her as if you’d always been there. 

Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe. The phrase repeats in her mind like a mantra as she stares at you, marveling at the way you stare at her. 

Like she’s precious, something to be fawned over. Something to be… loved? 

Her heart hammers wildly in her chest as she reaches out, her fingers finally skimming over your cheek. 

She could cry, perhaps she is crying, she doesn’t know. The only thing she’s sure of is that this feels so right, like a puzzle piece within her has finally shifted and slotted into place. 

Just as it crosses her mind to lean in and kiss you, the vision falls away, words echoing in her mind as the gardens come back into focus.

Not a friend. 

Not a friend.

Not a friend.

Yet...

Not a foe. 

“Helaena, please!” You beg, urgency coating your voice as you lean in closer, closer than you’d ever dared before, praying to see some spark of recognition in the princess’s eyes. 

Suddenly, she seems to come back to herself, gasping as you jump back away from her, startled. 

“Oh!” She breathes, blinking a couple times before her blue eyes finally fix themselves on you, “I’m so sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

You shake your head quickly, moving back toward her and taking her hands in yours once more, your heart twisting as you notice them trembling slightly. “There’s no need to apologize, I’m just happy you’re alright.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Helaena staring at you in a way that makes your cheeks heat up, as if she’s seeing you for the first time, before she seems to catch herself and look away, much to your disappointment. 

“Was that one of your dreams?” You ask softly, looking down to where her hand rests within yours. 

“Yes.” She says simply, her eyes locked on the way your fingers overlap hers as she desperately tries to ignore the voice in her head telling her to enterwine them. 

“What did you see?” You ask, catching her gaze again. There’s a fire in her eyes now that makes you shiver. 

She’s quiet for a moment, neither of you so much as breathing as you stare at each other – the princess looking at you so intently you wonder if she’s trying to hear your thoughts. You pray she can’t. 

“Nothing of importance,” she says finally, pulling her hands away and standing from the bench suddenly, “They’re just shapes, really. Fuzzy things.”

“Alright,” you smile as you stand with her, picking up your embroidery hoop from where it had been abandoned at your side, “If you ever wish to discuss them, I would be more than happy to listen.” You tell her, desperately wanting to hold on to whatever moment you had just shared with her. 

She merely nods with a small, soft smile and holds her arm out for you to take, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for supper.” 

The fire warming your skin from the hearth in Helaena’s chambers normally felt cozy and inviting, but tonight the heat of it was stifling as the two of you sit in silence. Each of you is presumably working on an embroidery piece, although the atmosphere feels more like that of a stalemate with each passing moment. 

You can feel her looking at you, sneaking glances every minute or so. You imagine she can probably feel the same, perhaps that’s why she keeps looking your way, because you can’t seem to keep your eyes off her either. 

Finally, the tension in the room seems to boil over and you can’t take it anymore; your fingers dig into the wood of your embroidery hoop as you gather the courage to speak. 

“Have I… Are you cross with me?” 

“Pardon?” The princess asks, jumping a bit before laying her hoop at her side, her eyes wide as she looks at you unabashedly now. 

“You, well, you keep looking at me. I just, I’m hoping I haven’t offended you in some way.” You chance a glance at Helaena and quickly do a double take, heart clenching in your chest when you see that she looks as if she’s about to cry. 

“You haven’t,” she breathes, shaking her head emphatically, locks of pale hair cascading down her shoulders as she does, “I simply… I was considering the dreams I’ve been having, the one I had earlier today.” 

“But what does that have to do with me?” 

“You’ve been in them!” She says suddenly, loudly, like she has to force out the words. 

“What?” You blink. 

She sighs heavily and swallows, wringing her hands on her lap. “You were in them. You have been for weeks.” 

You wonder if the princess can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you blink, silently praying to whichever of the Gods may be listening that Helaena’s dreams and your dreams were not somehow intertwined. In the back of your mind, you knew your pleas were useless. 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish that’s been plucked from the water before you finally find your voice, “What… what am I doing in them?” Your whole body buzzes, fearing the answer and desperately needing it all at once. 

The princess hesitates, you want to scream as you can all but see her weighing her options in her mind before she finally, finally speaks. 

“Courting me, kissing me.” 

A small withering, wounded noise passes your lips at her words. You feel dizzy, the room spinning as you feel as though the entire world is crashing down around you while at the same time, it’s as if a mountain’s worth of weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

“And your visions… they only show things already fated to occur?” You feel frozen as you ask, not a muscle in your body moving. You know the answer even as the question leaves your lips, but you need to hear her say it. 

Helaena sighs and shakes her head, a frown cutting across her pretty face, “That’s why it’s frustrating,” she bites, spitting the words like the mere act of explaining is painful, “This one cannot come to pass, I do not understand why I see it…”

She keeps speaking, talking through her annoyance, but the sound of your own blood pumping wildly through your veins blocks out her words. 

No, your head pounds as you silently scream, No, no, no! Please, just let me explain, give me a chance, I’ll do any—

A loud sob cuts through your thoughts; the world seems to wrench its way back to you as you look at the princess, eyes widening when you see the tears flowing down her flushed cheeks. 

“You could never truly wish to…” She says slowly, brokenly, words fading like she can’t even bear to say them. 

“I do.” The words feel punched from your chest like you’re holding your heart out to the open air.

Helaena’s ocean eyes cut to yours as her breath hitches, the both of you not daring to move a muscle as you sit together on the small sofa in her chambers; the fire crackling in the hearth is the only indication that time has not ceased to exist. 

You aren’t sure who moves first, maybe the Gods have threaded the two of you together so tightly that you move as one, you can’t be sure. 

But her lips are on yours. 

And her hands cup your cheeks as yours scramble to fit around her waist, four hands poised on a knife’s edge. 

You sigh against each other, pulled together like a knot in a thread, and you gasp as you find yourselves pressed together, chest to chest.

Finally, you part for air, panting together as you stare, foreheads pressed together. 

“Princess—“

“You love me?” She asks, swiping a thumb over your cheek; it’s only then you realize you’re crying. 

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer to you, “And you?” 

“Yes,” she echos, her thighs slotting over one of yours as she climbs atop your lap, “You are my heart beating out of my body.” 

Her words zap through you and your heart twists in your chest as your hands clamber against her, your lips press against hers again urgently. Twin moans, muffled into each other's mouths, sound between you as your hands cup her rear, pressing her more urgently against you. 

“You are beautiful,” you sigh, hands grabbing at her plush curves through the silk fabric of her skirts, “You’re so soft and —“ 

“Warm,” she breathes, moaning into the column of your neck as her lips move against your skin, “You’re so warm, my love, like the sun.” 

My love. The pet name sends a shiver down your spine as the two of you move together, pressing kisses against whatever patches of skin you can find, rocking together instinctually. The firmness of her thigh presses deliciously against your center, your skirts rucked up enough to bare your smallclothes, which press welty against your core. 

You gasp, pressing a kiss to the princess’s collarbone as her hips move tantalizingly on your thigh, the warmth between her legs nearly suffocating as you whimper and sign against each other’s soft skin. 

“I have always loved you,” you confess, nearly coming undone as she begins tugging at the ties at the bosom of your gown, her hands shaking as she pulls them loose, “Always, from the first moment I saw you.”

She makes a noise between a moan and sob as she finally tugs your bodice loose, and you whimper as her lithe fingers ghost over your breasts, causing your back to arch into her touch. “I’ve always loved you too,” she sighs as her soft hands cup your chest, kneading the flesh in her palms, “I always wanted to court you, marry you, I,” her voice breaks off in a faint, high-pitched whine as you finally manage to unbutton the bodice of her gown, she savors the feel of your lips and hands against her breasts for a moment more before continuing, “Gods, I wished to bed you, I’ve always longed to know what you would feel like, how sweet you’d taste.”

Her confessions nearly make you weep as you kiss over the fat of her breasts, keening into her supple skin as she delicately pinches at your nipples, “I have only ever thought of you, my sweet princess,” your chest heaves as you speak, your words muffled as you lick over her nipple, “When I sleep, when I wake, when I–” The words stick in your throat as you freeze, peering up at her through your lashes, somehow still impossibly afraid of going too far, or too fast, or too anything. 

“When you what?” She asks, her voice so soft and sweet as she stares down at you, her fingers digging into your breast and side as her sapphire eyes flit between yours, “Tell me, my love, when you what?” She urges, her hips moving somehow more desperately against yours, only serving to fuel the fire slowly building within you. 

“Gods, when I touch myself,” you whisper, shuddering as she lets out a breathy moan above you, “When I peak, sweet princess, I think only of you.” Your confession ends in a sharp gasp as she angles you backwards, anchoring you to her with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Her lips trail down your neck and collarbone before finally, she presses firm, fiery kisses to your breast, panting as she wraps her petal pink lips around your nipple and sucks, pressing her thigh more firmly against your center as she does. 

“I think only of you too,” she breathes, blue eyes fluttering up to yours as your hands tangle in her pale locks, “Every time I touch myself, I dream of you,” she mumbles around your breast, her touch all but burning into you as she kisses across your chest before mouthing at the other side, “When my brother beds me, it is you I see, my precious lady.”

You practically sob as her admission sends you reeling, each cell in your body bursting like lightning from a stormcloud as you peak. You’re useless to do much else other than tremble in her hold as shivers travel in currents down your spine, your smallclothes no doubt ruined as your center clenches frantically at nothing, your pearl so taut and achy as it twitches against the princess’s thigh. 

You don’t waste a second when your high subsides, moving frantically as you push Helaena back, slotting yourself perfectly atop her, pressing your thigh between her legs like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Your skirts fan out around your bodies, blanketing your forms in a soft sea of silk, your bare chests pressed tightly together as you rut against her, needing to see her awash with pleasure more than you need breath in your lungs. 

“My love, my sweet princess,” you sigh into her mouth, your tongues swirling together as she all but cries beneath you, her hands digging possessively into your waist, “I am yours, my love, until the end of my days.” You swear, pressing your thigh tightly against her center, and your heart soars as she finally shatters in your grasp.

You watch, enraptured, as she peaks; mesmerized at the blush that blooms on her skin, at the way her blue eyes roll back as her eyes flutter closed, at how her breasts heave as she sucks in desperate breaths. The sounds she makes seem to pierce into your soul, each whimper and moan and cry ripping away parts of you until your heart is stripped bare, beating only for her. 

The two of you lay in a heady silence for many moments, the only sounds being your soft, panting breaths as you each come down and the ever-present crackle sounding from the hearth. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” Helaena whispers, her voice raspy as she speaks.

“Pardon?” You ask, pulling back from her embrace just enough to meet her gaze.

“That phrase,” she explains, her eyes glimmering in the firelight as a smile steadily blossoms on her pink lips, “I kept hearing it, in my dreams about you.”

You stay silent, tracing soft circles on her soft skin, leaving room for her to continue.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see.”

“Hm?”

You aren’t my friend, the Gods spoke truthfully,” she beams, radiating joy as she studies your face, “You’re my love.”

Her statement is simple, but it makes you smile all the same as you press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Yes,” you nod, pulling back to meet her eyes as you lay a hand over her heart, “Always.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 2 wc: 3.1k

read the chapters here !!

you've managed to become closer with the guy you're interested in! this feels like a dream, everything feels like a dream but maybe this (or he) is too good to be true.

hiii omg this chapter is way longer than the first one but i had to do it, i'm sorry !!! anyways i hope you like it <3

based on the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all !!

friendly reminder that he/him pronouns are used for plot purposes !! so please imagine ellie when i use them. i'm not writing about a man, i'd rather die, honestly.

7 in the afternoon. ellie spent the entire day looking at the phone number written on her wrist, scared that the black ink may erase at any time. she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose planning a whole dialogue in her mind that she probably would forget the second she heard your voice, she didn't even know what she was supposed to say to you, the girl that was basically interested in her.

but she knew how excited you were about this, everytime she closed her eyes she could imagine the look on your face if she called you. she knew that you needed someone to share your interests with and she couldn't deny that having someone to talk to about music sounded like a good idea to her too. ellie'd been alone at school for almost a year now and even if you didn't know that the guy you were wishing to date was actually her, you were going to find out at some point and, if you didn't get mad at her, you two could be really good friends, then ellie wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

the whole idea of finally getting to know someone running through ellie's mind while she stared at her phone and her fingers anxiously tapped the desk where her phone laid. she started to type your number on the screen of her phone. she breathed in, blinked quickly and cleared her throat when she pressed the 'call' button. she could already feel her heart pounding so hard threatening to get out of her chest at any second.

you walked in circles around your room with your phone in your hands. you could already feel your eyes drying for you couldn't even blink, you desperately stared at the screen waiting for that call.

but what if he didn't call you? what if he thought you were annoying and he was just being nice when he lent you that album? all kind of negative thoughts ran through your mind. just the idea of being rejected broke your heart into pieces and you could feel that knot in your stomach.

or maybe a worst scenario was that he actually called you. what would you say? would he expect an opinion about the album? would he want to talk to you or would he prefer a shorter conversation?

you fidget with your fingers and bit your nails from time to time as you too planned a whole script in case you had to carry a whole conversation with your crush. you wanted to impress him, show him that you could be as cool as he was.

bzzt

the sound of your phone took you out of your trance and you froze for a second. an unknown number, but you know very well who was calling you. your face lighted up and you immediately picked up the call.

maybe it was because of your excitement that you couldn't help screaming at the phone awkwardly "i loved the album!" you immediately frowned and closed your eyes regretting your whole existence. the cringe was physically hurting you and the seconds you had to wait for his answer felt like an eternity.

"hi to you too," you heard his raspy voice followed by a chuckle that warmed your heart in a second "i'm glad you liked it, it's became one of my favorites."

you started to play with a string of your hair. "i know, i liked it very mussh!" once again you'd embarrassed yourself, it felt like you couldn't stop shouting and screwing things up. just when you thought nothing could make this moment even worse, you heard the loud voice of your mother coming from the kitchen.

a shout of your name followed by a "dinner's ready!" you closed your eyes and sighed hoping that some god had heard your prayers, had mercy of you and avoided that your crush listened to your mom calling you.

but that was asking too much and you could hear a soft laugh coming from your phone. just when you were already feeling the drops of sweat on your forehead reminding you that embarrassing moment, that husky voice blessed your ears one more time. this time it sounded like a whisper, one that warmed your ear and it almost felt as if he were only inches away from you. he called your name and you stopped dead.

"tell your mom i say hi." you hummed trying to hide the panic and the butterflies that only one sentence caused inside you. all the fear you felt seconds ago was replaced by pure ecstasy.

you two talked for a few more minutes and ended the call. ellie felt on her knees and buried her face in her hands. the initial plan was to talk to someone from school and make friends, but why was she unconsciously flirting with you? was it really unconsciously or she didn't want to admit that she was doing it on purpose?

"hey, did you do the homework for today? i didn't do it and i can't have more bad grades. i was wondering if you..."

the voice of one of your classmates called your attention. you sighed and rolled your eyes, you were ready to deny the request, but you frowned when you looked up and realized that the request wasn't for you.

you turned to your right and there it was, your classmate jesse talking to ellie. or rather than talking, he was disturbing her, interrupting her so much preciated tranquility.

"i didn't do it."

the response felt ice cold but she didn't seem annoyed, just nonchalant. you bit your lower lip in order to stop the laugh coming out of your mouth.

"really? but you look like a nerd..."

now the soft smile on your lips slowly faded and your teeth bit your lips so hard they were turning a dark red, the blood threatening to come out from the corner of your lips. you furrowed your eyebrows and scrunched your nose. the conversation was none of your business but you felt the sudden impulse to say something, you couldn't stay quiet and see how someone insulted your classmate.

"so you ask for help and then diss her?" your words came out like a bark "how childish." both of them were now looking at you in surprise. ellie's mouth half opened, the green orbes grew bigger than ever. she blinked a few times before fixing her glasses with her index finger while she cleared her throat.

you just watched jesse leave without saying a word but you could notice his embarrassment miles away. you smiled proudly as your eyes fell on ellie. she mouthed a 'thank you'. you nodded and couldn't help smiling.

only the sight of her felt familiar, had she always been like that? with that little sparkle in her eyes that tickled your stomach and in some way made you feel a connection with her, feeling as if something about her would be able to captivate you any time.

you stared at the notebook in front of you trying to make up your mind. maybe she was a nice person and this was a sign to talk to her, maybe it was the sign of the beginning of a good friendship.

you opened your eyes as soon as you heard the sound of your alarm. never in your life have you been happier about waking up at 8 in the morning on a saturday. you got up from your bed and appreciated the cute outfit laying on your bed, the one you'd carefully chosen the night before. spending hours on choosing the best clothes from your closet and doing your makeup to make you look stunning was worth it if it meant seeing your crush one more time.

you held in your hands the album he had lent you some days before and you couldn't hide the excitement that the butterflies inside your stomach caused. your left hand brushed your cheek and you felt the warmth of your skin almost burning.

you hadn't payed attention to the weather outside because what could go wrong? all the past days had been okay, why would this one be different?

before you cross the front door of your house, tough, your frizzy hair was already warning you something. the bright and warm sun that was beautifully shining the previous day was now all covered in heavy gray clouds that were taking with them the shiny colors of the flowers on the porch of your house.

it was just a 10 minutes walk from your house to the preciated record store but it took only 5 minutes for the pouring rain to start soaking your hair that had taken hours to get done.

but not a single thought of going back home crossed your mind, that was definitely not an option. nothing was going to stop you from having that desired love life you'd prayed for so much for so long. some rain wouldn't screw it up.

your path to the record store consisted of you running to get there faster taking little breaks under the trees that covered you from the rain. you inhaled and prepared yourself to start running again, it kept like that until you finally were only one block away from the place.

the light coming from inside the store gave you an immediate feeling of warmth. the characteristic music of the place was softer than the other days for the sound of the raindrops falling onto the floor was mostly the only thing you could hear.

you sprinted towards the door, the familiar ring of the bell welcoming you once again to your now well known record shop. your eyes scanned the room and stopped at the stunning figure you soon recognized.

it was the guy, your guy. it seemed like he'd also been outside because his hair and face, which was still covered with a mask, were adorned with tiny raindrops. he was drying his forehead with his shirt revealing his well toned abdomen, the small freckles highlighting his pale skin.

soon you felt the warmth quickly coming back to your body almost rushing. your uncolored cheeks now growing crimson while you clenched your teeth afraid that your jaw would fall to the floor if you stared too much.

it didn't take too long for him to notice your presence. he turned around to look at you with those hypnotizing emerald eyes, you could notice the concernment in his eyes as soon as they fell on you. he quickly grabbed the gray hoodie laying on the counter.

"hey, you might catch a cold."

his raspy yet soft voice blessing your ears and before you realized it, he handed you his hoodie.

"you can wear this."

this was the moment you coul swear that that was not rain at all, that was holy water. the day you thought was ruined had became a day you'd remember your whole life. it took you a minute to go back to reality and confirm that this scene was not a product of your imagination.

"oh, thanks." you couldn't hide the sweet smile on your face and you could tell that he was smiling too by the way his eyes looked at yours.

you put the gray hoodie on and all you could think about was the nice smell coming from the fabric, a mixture of a sweet yet woody perfume combined with his natural scent invaded your nostrils and was quick to make you head over heels.

meanwhile, ellie was sweating just by the thought of the possibility of her clothes smelling. but there's no chance that you could find this new fragrance other than pleasant.

after spending what felt like minutes but was actually more than an hour in the record store talking about the things that you had in common, which was not much more than music, but that was enough to make your heart flutter and giggle at his spontaneous jokes and at times sarcastic behavior.

minutes felt like seconds and you had the feeling that you two had something special. the natural conversations and casual jokes made everything feel right and, in some way, it made you think that all the scenarios you made up at midnight before falling asleep while you listened to a playlist you'd made specially for him, could become real. because you were like that, only a few days of seeing this guy and you'd already made a playlist for him with all your favorite songs in it.

"i wanted to share something with you." you hold your breath as you waited for a response.

"yeah? what is it?" you heard the curiosity in his voice.

"it's kinda stupid but i..." you doubted for a second before finishing your sentence "i made a playlist with my favorite songs, maybe you want to listen to it?" your fingers fidgeted with your rings.

his gasp was almost inaudible but loud enough to let you know that he was actually excited about this. "that's not stupid at all, that's awesome." the green eyes looked for yours "send it to me right now, please."

you immediately looked down at your phone in an attempt of hiding the sparkles in your eyes while you sent him the link of the playlist, little did you know that it would soon become that guy's, or ellie's, favorite playlist.

the feeling of your empty stomach reminded you that it was time to go back home and after chatting a bit more with your favorite employee of the record store, you waved and said goodbye to him with a sweet smile, his own eyes smiling at you too thanking your for your visit.

you'd always been fond of participating in every festival that your school organized. this time wouldn't be the exception, your mind was already full of ideas for the spring festival and just the thought of being in charge of it excited you. you'd already decided the music, decorations and organized the little shows that some of the students would make, everything carefully organized by yourself.

but your plans couldn't be as perfect in reality as in your mind, it was when you heard your professor's voice that you knew this was going to be harder than you thought.

"you'll work with jesse, he needs extra points." your jaw fell to the ground when the professor basically forced you to work with one of your classmates, one that you'd already had a little argument with. it wasn't like you hated him but you'd never worked with a boy before, let alone being close with one, with the exception of the guy from the record store, of course.

"i can't... i won't work with him alone, i-" you looked around your classroom with the hope of finding someone who could save you from this situation, someone who you knew would be helpful and would make the atmosphere less awkward.

your face lighted up when your eyes noticed the person next to you, a smirk placed on your face for you'd found the perfect one.

"i think ellie'd do great if she helped us with the organization too." you patted her shoulder. she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked into your eyes for an explanation "you can help us with the music. you have good taste after all, right?" your voice softened when you turned to her, your face expression almost begging for her to accept your offer.

"i- uhm..." she swallowed when she noticed you were watching expectant at her "i guess i could try?" her rising tone making it sound as a question rather than an affirmation. the familiar sweet smile on your face thanking her was everything she needed to confirm that she wouldn't regret this decision.

you spent some minutes thanking her after everyone left the classroom, this being one of the first times you had a conversation with her that lasted more than two words exchanged. it wasn't too deep though, some instructions about the organization of these festivals mixed with words of encouragement for her before she left the classroom.

the room all empty now, every sound you made echoed between the walls as you packed up your belongings and put on your backpack ready to leave too, but the shinning screen of the phone lying on the desk next to yours called your attention. you grabbed it in your hands and carefully examinated it. "it's ellie's phone" you thought.

you turned to look at the door expecting ellie to come back looking for it, but not a single soul seemed to be near there. your attention went back to the mobile. the unlocked screen with a song playing on it, a song you well knew, awoke your curiosity. you'd always hated people who snitched in other's phones but you couldn't help it, plus, there wouldn't be any damage in looking into someone's playlist.

a little grin placed on your face as you noticed the so much similar taste in music you two seem to have. what a coincidence that these were all your favorite songs!

your smile faded and turned into a frown as you read the tittle of every song, one after one. the cold sensation at the back of your neck hitting you when you reached the end on the playlist. all you favorite songs, all in one playlist, the playlist you'd made which only one person was able to listen to other than you. the phone fell from your shaky hands onto the desk, your breath getting faster with each thought running through your mind, the sudden realization hitting you like cold water.

the sound of the door opening took you out of your half-conscious state. "oh, you're still here." you couldn't even face her, now it all made sense "i forgot my phone." the voice you soon recognized making you shiver.

you took a deep breath before turning at her and faking your best smile as you handled ellie her phone "yeah, here." you tried to hide the shaky voice caused by the knot on your throat. "thanks, see you next week!" you watched as she left the classroom once again, then your hands fell on the desk in front of you as you tried to catch your breath and swallow the incontrollable feeling of crying.

these past few weeks, the days you spent talking to what you thought was a guy, was actually a girl? it was not only a girl, it was your classmate, ellie.

taglist: @ohnopoteito (and the editor 💋💋 thank u for your help you've won a crocheted gift 👏👏👏 parabéns) @bready101 @everegretseverything @idk-sam @jupitersversionn @seraphicsentences @fatbootymuncher @ilovetocas1 @blackandwhitewindows @nombreuxx @mooneylou

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH -Extra-: A Little Maid!

Today you and Aether decided to take a small break and just rest in Teapot. After breakfast, Keaya invited you to play TCG but... To make it more interesting the loser will have to do something for the winner. You didn't mind that, confident that you would win, you agreed. But it didn't go as planned, Kaeya had a new deck with new cards you didn't have. To your disappointment you lost quickly. -"So... what do you want me to do?" you asked. Kaeya smirked.  -"Give me a moment." He got up from the table and went to another room. After a while he brought...a maid outfit.  -"...A-are you serious?" you asked, already embarrassed. The blue haired male shrugged. -"Why not? It will be fun! If you win next time you can dress me however you want~" he said with a smile.  You took the maid outfit and went towards another room to change. -"Ah, I forgot about one thing... you have to wear it for one day and call everyone here 'Master'~"

In the kitchen Thoma and Mika were cleaning the dishes after breakfast, normally Noelle would be here to help them but today she promised to help some citizens of her city in the morning. You wanted to take some drink, but after entering and seeing only both of them cleaning all plates you decided to help. -"Tho-...Ahem... Master Thoma, Master Mika. Please let me help you." The boys turned around and almost both of them let go of plates they were holding. -"(Y-Y/n)? Wha...why are you wearing...this?" Mika asked, blush covering his cheeks. You sighed. -"I lost in TCG and the loser had to do something for the winner so... yeah." You felt your face getting warmer. -”I hope it’s not Master Ayato’s idea…” Thoma said, wondering if the head of Kamisato really ‘forced’ you into this maid outfit. -”No, it was Kaeya.” you sighed. “Next time I’ll make him wear something funny…” you grumped, crossing your arms. “So… may I help you both?” -”Ah it’s okay! We are almost finished!” Mika said, turning away from you. His heart beating faster just by looking at your adorable self. Thoma smiled but if you pay more attention you could see small blush on his cheeks too. -”Like Mika said, there’s not too much left so we’ll finish soon!” -”Oh okay…” after taking the drink with you, you left the kitchen. … Both boys sighed. They didn’t expect to see you like this and even more to call them ‘Master’. “This is not good for my heart…” Both of them thought.

 You came back to the room where you played TCG with Kaeya but to your surprise he is not there anymore. -”Hm? Where did he go?” you mumbled to yourself, looking around the room. You heard the door opening behind you, when you turned around you saw Cyno and Kaveh. Both guys stopped in their tracks looking at you, Kaveh looking more surprised than Cyno. -”A..Um… Good Morning Master Cyno and Master Kaveh!” You awkwardly smiled at them. -”What! No, wait! Why are you-!? Did someone force you to be a maid?!” Kaveh was first to respond. -”I lost a game in TCG and the loser had to do something for the winner.” you scratched your head. -”Don’t tell me…are you someone’s maid now?!” Kaveh said, worried that you have to listen to someone’s orders.You hummed. -”Not really? I was told to just wear it for one day and call everyone in the house ‘Master’. But ah I wish the skirt would be a bit longer…” The skirt wasn’t too short, but if you remember correctly it is a bit shorter than the maids’ ones in Dawn Winery. Cyno didn’t say anything, too deep in his own thoughts. -”I look weird in it right?” you asked, scratching your cheek. -”Of course not!” both of the boys said in unison. Kaveh coughed into his fist. -”Ahem… I think you look…good in it.” he said, looking somewhere else, with blush on his cheeks. -”I won’t lie, this outfit looks like it was MAID for you.” -”… “ After a moment of silence you snorted. -”Oh Master Cyno…” you said with a small smile on your face. For Cyno it was a win for today. “Did you guys see Ka…. Master Kaeya?” -”That guy with patch on eye? After breakfast I didn’t see him.” -”Me neither. Do you need something from him?” Cyno asked. -”Well he was playing TCG with me so I thought we’ll play some more rounds…” -”If you want you can join us!” Kaveh said with excitement! And you end up playing some rounds against Cyno and Kaveh. You won all the matches against a blonde haired guy who seemed to be distracted by something. While the white haired one was serious like always and yet you did win some rounds against him.

The day was passing slowly. Knowing that there are some people training behind the house you decided to bring them something to drink. While approaching the training ground, one Fatui Harbinger noticed your presence. -”Oh? Didn’t expect you to wear something like this just to bring us drinks.” He smirked, already coming closer to you. -”Well Master Ajax-” He snorted. -”O-oi! D-don’t laugh! I lost the game and I have to wear it till the end of the day!” -”Hmm? Is that so? Whose idea was this?” -”Master Kaeya…” -“I have to remember to thank him for this… maybe I’ll bring him Fire-Water as a present…” -”Okay okay! Take the drink! I need to give it to other-” -”Hey (Y/n)... how much?” You looked confused at him. -” How much what?” -”How much mora do you want to become my personal maid?~” he smiled innocently. -”AJAX!” and the guy started to laugh at your reaction. After being teased talking with Childe, you gave drinks to other people who were training, both some guys and girls told you that you look cute in maid outfit and thanked you for drinks. What you didn’t notice is that the guys couldn’t concentrate on training after seeing you like this.

Not everyone joined today's dinner, many being busy with their everyday life. Maybe it was good for you. At least not everyone had to see you like this. When it comes to boys, some enjoyed seeing you walk in maid outfit and call them ‘Master’ and you end up being teased by them, some weren’t happy that others can see you like this and some… missed the chance to see you like this, much to their disappointment when they found out about it later.

When the moon appeared in the sky, you came back to your room. -“Finally I can take this off…” but before you could do that you heard a knock on your door. “Come in!” The door opened revealing Diluc. “Oh hello Di… Master Diluc do you need anything?” The red haired guy looked at you a bit taken aback, then he sighed and rubbed temples. -“I was hoping it was just a joke but it seems they were serious… I heard that Kaeya borrowed one maid outfit from Dawn Winery, I was wondering what he is up to but… I didn’t expect that…” -“Oh! Don’t worry, I'll wash it and give it back tomorrow!” -“It’s alright. I hope he didn’t force you to wear this.” -“No, no! I lost the game of TCG and the loser had to do something for the winner. Kaeya is not that type to force friends into something they don’t want to, so please don’t be angry at him.” Diluc only sighed again. -“Alright, but I still need to talk to him.” -“Ah Aether now took him for a talk.” -“Then I’ll join them. Goodnight, sleep well.” -“Goodnight!” and with that the Master of Dawn Winery left your room, you finally took off the maid outfit and wore pajamas. “Poor Kaeya… I hope they won’t talk his ear off for too long…” .

---- Thank you for reading till the end! And sorry for mistakes! This one is shorter, tbh I was hoping I would finish it for Maid's Day but oh well....

[ifiguredyoudloveme]

Unhuman (NSFW)

paul atreides x female!oc

summary: in the dark, a woman shows up in paul's room unannounced and gives him something he'll come to crave.

warnings: 18+, p in v sex, creampie, unnatural amount of cum, slight dubcon ? (paul is put under a spell to make him horny and in a trance-like state so idk), mention of knives, pure smut.

words: 1,852

a/n: i don't know where this character came from lol i just started writing. this makes no actual sense in the dune universe btw i just wanted to write about paul. also this took me over 10 days to write cus i kept procrastinating and i still don't really like it but oh well.

Paul awakens to a feeling that he is not alone in the bedroom he lays. A sense of unease creeps up the back of his neck, hairs standing, as he scans the room for the movement of shadow.

He sees it: a static movement in front of the closed door. He is able to make out the shape of the figure as his eyes adjust to the darkness. It's small but only seems to be a few inches shorter than Paul, however does not have the frame of any man he can think of. A woman, most probably.

"Who are you?" Paul asks. His voice is calm but his mind and rapid heart are not as he reaches for the dagger that usually rests without use under his pillow. He stands, hiding the weapon behind his back, the cold steel pressed against his bare skin.

The woman walks towards him with confident strides. Paul holds in a breath and tightens his grip on the knife. When she's mere inches from him, she draws a knife of her own from her side and presses the tip against the underside of Paul's chin.

"Drop it," she demands. He obeys on command despite the Voice not being used. Paul doesn't feel as though she possesses the ability to use it, and yet, he feels an odd inclination to do as she says.

Paul huffs out the air from his lungs. Her eyes are large and almost seem to be glowing; they're dark as a starless night sky, though he can't make out the colour. Her lips are plump and inviting. She pushes the knife upwards slightly, nearly breaking the skin, before dropping it herself. It clatters against the floor though Paul barely hears it. He has the overwhelming desire, suddenly, to kiss her.

"Who are you?" He asks. He wishes to be assertive in this moment, threatening to the unknown intruder, but he finds his voice will not obey and instead every word he utters comes out as a beg of a higher pitch. What is he begging for?

"It doesn't matter who I am." Her voice is soft and comes out unhuman, like an echoed whisper in the wind. Paul wonders if she's an angel, or a spirit, with her unnatural beauty. "I know who you are, and I'm quite surprised this is working so well on someone like you."

"May I...May I know, at least, what your purpose here is?" Paul's voice is low and hoarse and he can barely get the words out. He's been hypnotized by her - his hands squeeze together behind his back so as not to give into the urge to touch. She needs to leave.

She grins and looks down over Paul's half-naked frame. She rests a warm hand over the right side of his chest. His breath hitches. "I've come to give you something," she replies, her voice sweet and intoxicating. "I'm sure you'll like it, as will I."

Paul, without thought, places his hand over hers. "Has somebody sent you?"

She sighs and drops her hand. Paul's eyebrows furrow in worry; he doesn't want her to leave before she gives him whatever it is she's here for. All worries disappear when her hand returns to touch his face. "Yes, Paul, but I cannot disclose by who."

Paul's name on her lips make him gasp and lean into her touch. She's turned him into an obedient puppy, his eyes hazy and wide with anticipation and his red lips parted lazily. In a part of his mind that is usually far closer to him than now, he's disgusted with himself, his lack of the authority that's expected of him.

"May I see what you have come to give me?" His voice is a whine now. He wants to slap himself for his stupidity. He should tell her to leave, draw the knife to her throat and demand to know who she is, but he doesn't. Instead, he twists his head towards her palm and plants a soft kiss in the middle of it. She smiles at this gesture.

"Yes, of course."

Paul inhales deeply as her soft fingers slide from the side of his face and down his neck, fluttering over his collarbone then over his nipple, down his stomach. Her fingers leave a tingle behind on the skin she's touched. She stops once her hand is rested on his lower abdomen, edging dangerously close to his stirring arousal. "Please..." Paul whispers, barely audible.

"Will you lay down for me, Paul?" She asks sweetly. Paul nods, over and over, until he's rested on his back, his hands drawn up towards his chest in remaining insecurity over his fragile frame.

The woman is straddled over his lower hips in seconds though he didn't see her move, as if she used some sort of teleportation. She leans down until their mouths are barely touching, her breath light against his wet lips. "You're very beautiful, Paul. So delicate."

She reaches between their bodies and lightly grips his erection. A soft oh leaves his lips in a moan and he lifts his hips on instinct in search for friction. The head of his cock is wet and stains the thin material of his pants. He can almost swear, through the daze of his brain, that his erection is far bigger than it typically is, barely contained in the fabric. What he knows, for sure, is that his sensation to touch is amplified to an intensity he is unsure he can handle.

She connects her lips to his and they are as soft as Paul had imagined. He groans deeply into her mouth and pushes his wet tongue between her teeth. Their tongues dance together and her hand grips harder, stroking him frustratingly slow. "Please..." It's as if please is the only word he knows.

She pulls away and smiles, nodding in understanding, and grips the waistband of his pants to slide them down. His cock frees and makes a dirty slap against his stomach, loud in the stillness of the room. Paul reaches for her and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back down so they lay skin to skin. She's so warm, and she's naked. Paul wonders if she's been naked this whole time, shadowed by the dark.

She leans into his ear, massages his curls between her fingers. "I'll make you feel good," she whispers so lightly Paul wouldn't have heard if it weren't for the deep silence of the room besides their breaths and his beating heart. He can't hear hers, nor can he feel it against his chest.

"Yeah?" Is all he can mutter, dizzy with desire as he feels her wetness slide over his cock, tip rubbing against her clit. Her pace is slow, too slow, so Paul grips her tighter and lifts his hips upward in a smooth rhythm, meeting her movements. She lets out a moan against his ear, so unhuman but so lovely he wonders if this is in fact a dream.

"Yes." With that, she lifts her hips and sinks down onto Paul's erection, filling her to the hilt. He shrieks an ungodly moan at the feeling and almost cums but manages to, somehow, hold it in. It's the best sensation he's ever felt.

"I can't, I can't," he repeats in huffs, "I don't think I'll last long, I don't—"

"Shh." She places her lips to his neck, sucking on the warm, salty skin. He goes pliant at this: arms slack and dropping to his side, his hands flexing and reaching for sheets to grip. He lets out a shaky whine. He wouldn't mind if his only purpose in life was to exchange pleasure with her, whoever she is.

Once she finally moves, her hips lifting slowly before coming back down again, his head pushes back into the pillow and a whimper escapes his throat. His neck is further exposed and she switches to the other side, sucking there. Paul lightly grips her hair, shorter than his own, and arches his back off the bed.

Her movements increase in speed and, against the sensitive skin of his neck where she's licked and sucked and nipped at, she asks: "Am I fulfilling my promise?"

A sobby whine vibrates in his chest as he nods, his cock leaking profusely with clear liquid inside of her. He's so blissed out he's unable to speak, eyes pricking with tears.

The noises that fill the room are unholy, wet slaps and heated groans of pleasure. She's mainly quiet besides the occasional soft moan when Paul bucks his hips upward to meet her in the middle.

She disconnects her wet, full lips from his neck and connects them to his lips once again, breathing in his steady flow of moans. She takes his cock fully and begins to rock her hips forward and backward, sucking on his tongue as she does so. He whimpers into her mouth at this sudden change of movement and grinds his hips to meet the rhythm of hers.

Paul turns his head to the side, disconnecting their lips, and throws his head back. He moves his hands from her hair to grip her ass and push her down, grinding harder with added force. He's close, and has a deep, forceful desire to cum inside of her.

"I'm gonna– Can I– Please–" Paul mumbles and whines against her ear, unable to form full sentences. His grinds become sloppy as his release climbs close and his grip on her loosens, hands flexed and shaking.

"Yes, Paul," she breathes against his ear, granting him permission. She plants a soft kiss against his cheek as he cums, calming him down with fingers through his hair as he writhes and moans loudly beneath her.

Tears run down his cheeks, cock pulsing inside of her heat and spurting out rope after rope of cum – an unnatural amount. He can feel the warm liquid seep out of her, pooling around the base of his cock and running down his tight balls. The feeling is so intense and delicious he knows that, if he is never to see her again, he may not be able to live with his craving for this. For her.

Once Paul has settled and his heart returns to a steady beat, she lifts her hips and his soaked, softening cock slides out of her and slaps against his thigh. More of his cum leaks out of her and onto his lower stomach. She smiles and places her hands on either side of his face, kissing him, then flips onto her back beside him.

Paul immediately rolls over and wraps his arms around her, unable to handle the lack of her touch. He rests his head against her chest and she lifts a hand to stroke his damp curls. "Don't go," he whispers.

The woman feels cruel knowing she eventually must. But she won't tell Paul this, not yet. Possibly she's been too harsh with her seduction, or Paul is far more sensitive to it than she assumed he would be.

"I won't," she fibs.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

Hello, sweetheart! I was wondering if you could do Alastor with an overlord reader? I was imagining reader having water based abilities and a blue theme to them! I also imagined the reader being a lot shorter than him (cause he’s like 7 feet tall).Like how would he react to reader being able to summon a tsunami and drowning a bunch of sinners, but being an absolute sweetheart at the same time! Please ignore this if you feel uncomfortable!

~Angel <3

hi angel!!! i can totally do that! thank you for your request and your patience on this!!!

i would love to do this! i’m doing this more in a head cannon/ficlet format, but i may come back to this to make a full fic.

i hope you enjoy!! ☺️

alastor first noticed how short you were. you were tiny

at least to him.

but he’s like 7 feet tall and you kept your human height of 5’2 when you descended to hell.

the second thing that he noticed were you were completely opposite of him

your color palette, your disposition and even the way you spoke were all opposites.

you had a mainly blue color palette. your hair was long and blue, your outfit flowy and not really structured, your eyes were the red that overlords though

you were rumored to be powerful but alastor had never seen any display of your power

you were happy and kind of go lucky, you and charlie were almost like two peas in a pod.

that was until one day, someone threatened the hotel and he wasn’t there.

Idiot sinners who thought they could beat the radio demon

it was the thought that if the radio demon wasn’t there, it would be fine as no one took charlie seriously.

and you wouldn’t let her dirty her hands on these… cretins

The fire balls soared through as they called out for Alastor. Everyone was running around trying to put out the fires and Alastor wasn’t around. He was in Cannibal Town today visiting Rosie. You sighed and closed your eyes. You made your way to the front ignoring the calls of your name and to watch out. You raised your hands and a shield of water surrounded the hotel. You walked out and stared at the sinners.

“Who are you bitch?” One asked. Looking there seemed to be about 30 sinners who made up this party.

“Yeah! Where’s Alastor?” Another asked, raising a molotov cocktail and getting ready to light it.

“Look, gentleman, why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and we can forget this ever happened.” You say, looking at all of them. There’s a beat of silence and then they all start laughing. You look annoyed and the one who seemed to be the leader spat at your feet.

“Like hell, bitch. Be a good girl and get Alastor.” He said laughing again.

“Oh, you’ll wish you got Alastor.” You said, bringing your hands together and then throwing them in a down motion to the ground. Suddenly chains appeared on all of the sinners. Their eyes widened and the leader started to struggle. You smiled as you reached your hand towards him and he flinched thinking you were going to grab him, but then all of a sudden you closed your fist. The group looked at you confused until the water that held them where they were at started to boil.

You raised your left hand up and the boiling water started to encase their legs slowly. You looked at the leader and smiled.

“Wanna make a deal? I’ll end this pain right now, you give me your soul, never come to this hotel again and are at my beck and call whenever I feel like it. You will do anything I ask of you. Do we have a deal?” You grinned as he cried out his confirmation.

You stopped the water from boiling and proceeded to make the same deal with all 30 sinners, they scampered off afterwards and you let down the shield on the hotel. You looked to your left and saw Alastor there, his eyes wide and his grip on his cane tight. Rosie next to him, grinning.

“Oh hey!” You said nonchalantly.

alastor is enamored

you a little thing so sadistic that you get 30 sinners to make a deal with you at once?

he’s not sure if he truly feels threatened or admired you.

rosie adores you

you shock alastor again when another group of sinners come to the hotel and you don’t even walk outside

the only thing heard is a rumbling, a crash and then quiet. everyone looks outside and sees a tsunami drowning a larger group of sinners than before.

everyone looks at you sitting at the bar, complimenting pentious’ drawing and him beaming at your compliments

you were such a sweetheart but you were terrifying