#and now i feel properly out of it and properly secured again

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Simon notices the outline of your thong that’s hidden under your yoga pants)

Simon isn’t even sure whether you’re doing this intentionally, trying to tease him, or you truly doesn’t realize how you’re testing his restraint, how he’s trying so hard not to just push you against the nearest wall in the gym and go down on you right now.

Your back is facing him, just standing few feet away in front of him, wearing that tight yoga pants emphasizing your supple thighs and ass in the most delectable way, squatting and let out tiny grunts here and there. The worst part is, he can see the thong you’re hiding behind the yoga pants, the outline of it so clearly for him, good that it’s just you two in the gym now, or he might just drag you back home and hide you from others’ ogling.

“Hey, what-“ His hands grab onto your arm the second you set down the dumbbell, your yelps and confusion doesn’t recognize by him as he shoves open an empty shower room and pin you against the wall, his bulge pressing snuggly on your pussy.

He’s mad hard, already leaving a dark spot on his sweatpants as he rubs it against your core shamelessly.

“You doing this on purpose, princess?” Pulling down your yoga pants, hooking a finger over the thin strip of your thong, he tugs it with a slight grin, letting it slap back against your hips. And that’s when you realize that the outline of your thongs’ actually visible even with the pants on.

“I didn’t mean it, Simon.” The noise of the running shower can’t cover your moans and attempted explaining, because he frees his thick, leaking cock from his boxers, chest securing you to the tiles, so he’s able to drag that aching shaft along your pussy, fucking your pussy lips and prodding at the clit till you’re a blabbering mess.

“Didn’t mean it? but you still made it hard for me, love.” The bulb tip slide into your soaking cunt easily. He calms himself and pants beside your ears, trying not to come immediately from how tight and warm your heavenly pussy feels. “You know how sexy you were when doing those squats, shoving your arse towards me, and kept reminding me you had a bloody thong that couldn’t even cover your pussy properly under the yoga pants?”

He rocks his hips fiercely, letting out all the pent-up horniness with each deep thrust, directly abusing the sweet spots and coaxing moans after moans from you.

The usually quiet man groans loudly every time he wrenches an orgasm out of you, the shower wash off your juices dripping down your thighs, before your eyes roll back and cry out, messing them with both his and your cum.

“Gonna come…ngh, fuck…” Seeing stars can’t describe how cock drunk you are now when you squeeze your cunt around his cock and tumble over the edge, the white hot pleasure corrupting your mind, overstimulated to your limits when he hisses—almost comes too early from your spasming walls and pinch your clit as retaliation.

“Fuck, going to paint your pretty little pussy with my cum again…gotta-oh fuck” Simon’s voice trembles when slamming into you one last time, filling you up nice and tight with his release. He leans his forehead against your shoulder, recovering from the aftershocks of orgasms together with you.

“-Gotta claim this fucking pussy again, 's all mine, yeah?” Murmuring and pressing a tender kiss to your nape, he grabs the soap and start cleaning you up, more from the aftermath of the sloppy make-out than your previous workout.

[pucksandpower]

Rained Out

Toto Wolff x pregnant!Reader

Summary: a series of unfortunate events pushes Toto’s protective side to the surface

Based on this request

The rain drums steadily against the pavement, creating a shimmering curtain that obscures the bustling Canadian Grand Prix paddock from view. You stand just outside the entrance, one hand resting protectively on your swollen belly, the other clutching your useless paddock pass. The security guard eyes you sympathetically but remains firm.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t let you in if your pass isn’t scanning,” he says, his voice barely audible over the downpour.

You bite your lip, frustration and discomfort warring within you. “Please, I’m Toto Wolff’s wife. I’m sure this is just a technical glitch. If you could just call him-”

The guard shakes his head. “I’ve already radioed in. Mr. Wolff is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed. I’m truly sorry, but rules are rules. You’ll have to wait until we can verify your identity.”

A shiver runs through you as the wind picks up, sending icy droplets cascading down your neck. Your thin jacket, hastily thrown on before leaving the hotel, offers little protection against the elements. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shield your unborn child from the chill.

Time crawls by at an agonizing pace. Other team members and officials hurry past, sparing curious glances at the very pregnant woman standing forlornly in the rain. You try Toto’s phone again, willing it to ring.

Finally, after what feels like hours but is likely only thirty minutes, a familiar voice cuts through the monotonous patter of rain.

“Schatz! Oh mein Gott, what are you doing out here?”

Toto appears, his tall frame moving with surprising speed. His eyes are wide with concern as he takes in your bedraggled state.

“The pass ... it wouldn’t scan,” you manage through chattering teeth. “They couldn’t reach you.”

Toto’s face darkens as he turns to the security guard. “How could you leave my pregnant wife standing in this weather? Do you have any idea-”

You place a gentle hand on his arm. “Toto, don’t. He was just doing his job.”

The anger in Toto’s eyes softens as he looks at you, replaced by guilt and worry. He shrugs off his team jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, ushering you quickly through the now-open gate.

“Come, let’s get you inside and dry,” he murmurs, his arm protectively around your waist.

As you enter the relative warmth of the Mercedes garage, the bustle of pre-race preparations momentarily halts. All eyes turn to you and Toto, taking in your drenched appearance.

“Somebody get some towels!” Toto barks, his accent thickening with stress. “And find some dry clothes!”

You lean into him, grateful for his solid presence. “I’m okay, really,” you assure him, though your voice wavers slightly. “Just a bit damp.”

Toto’s eyebrows shoot up. “A bit damp? Liebling, you look like you’ve been swimming in your clothes.”

Despite your discomfort, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I always did want to try synchronized swimming. Though I imagined a pool, not a parking lot.”

Toto’s lips twitch, a reluctant smile breaking through his worry. “Your sense of humor remains intact, I see.”

A team member approaches with a stack of fluffy towels and what appears to be team-issued sweats. Toto takes them with a nod of thanks.

“Can you manage changing by yourself?” He asks quietly. “Or do you need help?”

You consider for a moment. While you’d normally insist on independence, your sodden clothes are clinging uncomfortably, and your fingers feel numb from the cold.

“I ... might need a hand,” you admit sheepishly.

Toto nods, guiding you towards a more private corner of the garage. He helps you peel off the wet layers, his touch gentle and reverent as it skims over your rounded belly.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs as he helps you into the dry clothes. “I should have made sure your pass was working properly. I should have answered my phone.”

You cup his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Hey, none of that. It was just a silly mix-up. No harm done.”

Toto’s brow furrows. “No harm? You were standing in the freezing rain for God knows how long! You could get sick, or the baby-”

“The baby is fine,” you interrupt, placing his large hand on your stomach. As if on cue, there’s a strong kick against his palm. “See? Still doing somersaults in there.”

Some of the tension leaves Toto’s shoulders, but concern still lingers in his eyes. “Still, I want Dr. Müller to check you over, just to be safe.”

You nod, knowing arguing would be pointless. “Alright, if it will make you feel better. But first ...” You glance meaningfully at the bustling garage around you. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for?”

Toto hesitates, clearly torn between his professional duties and his desire to fuss over you. You give him a gentle push.

“Go on. I promise I’ll sit quietly and drink something warm until the doctor arrives.”

He searches your face for a moment, then nods. “Alright. But you call me immediately if you feel even slightly unwell, verstanden?”

“Verstanden,” you echo with a smile. “Now go be the big, scary team principal everyone expects.”

Toto chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, you know that?”

“I had an inkling,” you tease. “Now scoot!”

As Toto reluctantly returns to his duties, you settle into a chair, gratefully accepting a steaming mug of tea from a hovering team member. The garage slowly returns to its normal frenetic pace, though you notice several concerned glances thrown your way.

You’re halfway through your tea when a familiar face appears at your side. Lewis crouches down, his expression a mix of worry and amusement.

“I hear you tried to stage your own wet race out there,” he says with a grin.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “What can I say? I was feeling left out of all the excitement.”

Lewis chuckles, then his face grows more serious. “You alright though? For real?”

You nod, touched by his concern. “I’m fine, truly. Just a bit waterlogged. Though I think Toto might spontaneously combust from worry.”

As if summoned by his name, Toto appears behind Lewis. “Yes, Dr. Müller, thank you for coming on such short notice. She’s right here.”

You shoot Lewis an exasperated look that clearly says ‘see what I mean?’ He responds with a sympathetic pat on your shoulder before rising.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says. “Try not to give the old man a heart attack before the race, yeah?”

Toto scowls playfully at Lewis’ retreating back. “I heard that!”

As Dr. Müller begins her examination, Toto hovers anxiously nearby, his eyes darting between you and the various race preparations happening around the garage.

“Toto,” you call softly. “I can practically hear you thinking from here. What’s wrong?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of stress. “I just ... I can’t stop thinking about you standing out there in the rain. What if something had happened? What if-”

“But nothing did happen,” you interrupt gently. “I’m fine, the baby’s fine. It was just a bit of rain.”

Toto shakes his head. “It’s not just that. I should have been there. I should have made sure you were taken care of. What kind of husband, what kind of father am I going to be if I can’t even-”

“Stop right there,” you say firmly. “You are going to be an amazing father, Toto Wolff. You already are. Do you know how I know?”

He looks at you questioningly.

“Because you care this much,” you explain. “Because even in the middle of one of the biggest race weekends of the year, your first thought is for me and our baby. That’s what matters, not some silly mishap with a security pass.”

Toto’s eyes soften, and he moves to kneel beside you, taking your hand in his. “How did I get so lucky?” He murmurs.

You smile, squeezing his hand. “I ask myself the same thing every day.”

Dr. Müller clears her throat, reminding you both of her presence. “Well, I’m happy to report that both mother and baby are perfectly healthy. No signs of distress or illness from the exposure to the cold.”

The relief on Toto’s face is palpable. “Thank you, Doctor. That’s wonderful news.”

As Dr. Müller packs up her equipment, you turn to Toto with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So, now that we’ve established that I’m not about to melt from a little rain, what do you say we focus on winning this race?”

Toto laughs, the remaining tension finally leaving his body. “Always keeping me on track, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to,” you tease. “Now, go lead your team to victory. Your very pregnant, very proud wife will be cheering you on from right here.”

Toto leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Both of you.”

As he straightens up, resuming his role as the formidable Mercedes team principal, you can’t help but smile. Come rain or shine, paddock pass or no paddock pass, you know that you and Toto can weather any storm together.

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[fortunekookie07]

Are requests open? May I request a sylus x wife reader (not the mc) where she is afraid of him and feels like he doesn’t love her cause of his cold and intimidating nature. Then mc arrives and she’s hurt and shocked with how he treats her. Now convinced that he doesn’t love her and hates her she keeps her distance and sits alone everyday on the rooftop. Barely eating anything nor sleeping properly she lost the will and strength to sleep next to him and sleeps on the couch or on the rooftop (after she saw him pin down mc onto the bed ya know that scene) . Even starts to think of packing up and leaving telling herself to “prepare” whenever he divorces her.

But one time she gets kidnapped for bait and injured yet sylus hasn’t come for days so she tells her kidnappers “ it’s a waste of time cause sylus won’t come for me, i mean nothing to him , he was already planning to get rid of me. so you might as well kill me right now and save your breaths.” Not knowing that her husband overheard her when he entered before she passed out due to lack of food and exhaustion.

Did You Ever Love Me?

The day you married Sylus was the happiest day of your life. You had been by his side for 3 years. It wasn't the easy life you had once dreamed of, but this was the reality of the N109 Zone. Nothing was easy, and everything had a price.

You still remembered the day you had first met, what a blood bath that had been. Your family had been one of the most influential in the area. Having long established their authority when it came to weapons dealing. Only supplying top-notch weapons.

From a young age your father had made sure you knew the business, drsminf of having you take over. He taught you everything he knew. From the making of the orders, to quality check, and even materials secured.

That day it was your parents 25th anniversary and a big party was thrown for them. Business partners and friends were all invited to the event.

The only thing your father had not warned you about, was the extensive dangers of the N109 Zone. He'd tried to shield you from just how dirty the world could be.

A rival family had crashed the party with a seemingly endless group of thugs. Before anyone had realized what was going on, gunshots filled the air. People started screaming and running in a desperate attempt to get to safety. Pushing and shoving others out of their way as they went.

A stray bullet hit your arm and blood immediately started pouring from the wound. You grunted as the pain slammed into you and momentarily lost your footing just a another bullet whizzed past the air where your head had been seconds ago.

You heard your father calling your name and pushing through people trying to get to you. You could see your mother sitting on the ground near one of the stairs columns. She was tying a makeshift bandage around someone's leg. Trying to staunch the bleeding.

You felt like your life was running in fast forward as you watched your father continue to push through the crowd and then he suddenly stopped moving as his eyes widened and he looked down. Blood was blooming across the white shirt of his suit and staining the black jacket. In the center of the stain was a hole. You felt sick seing that hole pierced through his chest over his heart.

"Father!" Your scream rang over the gunshots and panic as you tried to run to him. The long him of your dress got stepped on and you fell to the floor landing hard on your side. Pain zipped through your body at the hard smack to the unforgiving marble floor.

You desperately fought to get to your feet as it finally seemed like the crowd was thinning out. Thankfully no one stepped on you or your clothes again. Just as you reached your father the gun shots stopped and the following silence seemed to bring the air of dread.

The scent of blood was strong, making you gag as your stomach heaved. You push the feelings back and reach out to the injury, hands shaking as you try to staunch the blood flow. He grunts with the pressure and his eyes open slightly. You start muttering words but even you don't believe what you are saying.

"It's ok father, we can fix this. I'll get help, the doctor will fix you right up and then everything will be ok." Tears arr pouring down your face as he smiles weakly. He reaches for your face, trying to touch your cheek. Just before his hand can touch you a great force yanks you back.

You scream out at the pain, pulling you scalp. A heavy fist has gripped your hair, yanking the strands hardly and then a voice is in your ear. "I'll blast a hole in your head if you move a muscle." The voice growled near your ear as he tightens his grip on your hair. Your cried our in pain and he just tugged harder, you bit back the second cry as hot tears rolled down your face.

His arm grabbed your hand and forced you to your feet, perking you to face the way he wanted. He kicked the back of your knees forcing you to kneel in front of a man. Tugging your head back as he allowed you to stare at the man clearly responsible for this entire plot.

Fear stuck you as a cold, malicious smile stretched across his heavily scarred face. His eye was like flat steel. No luster or shine to its grey depths. A scar cut through his left eye and down his cheek, going all the way down to his mouth. Burn scars were also intermingled on his face.

His eye itself was an ugly milky color, it held no pupil or iris. On the right side of his face three long jagged scars could be seen stretching from his ear down to his chin. Little tremors went through your body. This man had an overwhelming presence and the sense of evil wrapped around him like a cloak.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the little princess. Your father was careful to hide you away from me. Protecting his biggest weakness. I must say I do admire him for that."

In contrast to his appearance his voice was smooth, a slight rasp clung to his words. Whatever had attacked and scarred him had obviously affected his vocal cords. He worked it to his advantage, speaking in a way that soothed you on the surface. Even if his words were unsettling or foul.

He reached for you, his fingers and thumb just barely brushing your face when a loud caw shattered the silence. With the bird cry black and red mist began pouring into the wide space and the air got heavy. As if gravity itself was pushing down on everyone and everything in the room. The mist covered and hid everything in its path. Blinking you realized you couldn't see the man in front of you.

A deep, suave, sexy voice seemed to come from no where as helped had seemed to arrive. "It seems you did not learn your lesson. I don't mind teaching it to you agiain, Osric." The mist wrapped around him, holding him still. Footsteps tapped across the floor, the occasional sloosh as he stepped in a puddle. Your body shuddered, knowing exactly what liquid he stood in.

It took a few minutes before you realized that the man who had been gripping your hair was no longer touching you, or even anywhere near you.

The mist began swirling into the center of the room, right next to you. Looking into the mist you could just make out a tall silhouette. As rapidly as the mist had spread it was now retreating.

A tall well built man was standing right beside you. Silver hair carefully styled. Red eyes piercing and promising danger. The right one seemed to be glowing.

"You have some guts, touching something of mine, I don't take kindly to thievery. The man, Osric, was hoisted into the air with the mist. He gasped and sputtered clawing at the mist to no avail.

Two men appeared by your side then. One offered his hand, bit you hesitate. Both are wearing black crow masks with subtle red lines on the face of the mask and a red tipped beak. Two red horns poke through the hoods they wear and a gold ring is on one of them. The two are slim and tall, you can tell nothing of their appearance. Clothing and masks make it impossible to discern any identifying features.

The first guy is still holding his hand out to you, he seems neither impatient nor upset that you haven't accepted it yet. Finally seeing no consequence to taking his offered hand you lightly place your palm in his. He gently but firmly grasps your hand and assists you in standing. He let's go after you are steady on your feet and positions himself at your side. The second does the same on your right. Like they are bodyguards.

"Screw you Sylus"! Osric sputters out, still trying to break free of the mist. His fingers are bloody from his efforts to free himself. "Luke, Kieran, see to it that she comes to no harm." The silver haired man says as he squeezes his hand. The mist constricts around Osric further cutting of his air flow completely.

One of the two lightly grabs your arm and spins you around just as a sickening crunch reaches your ears. This kind of thing happened a lot here. Those with power ruled over the weak. It was nothing new.

You had long grown accustomed to the way Sylua dealt with traitors and rats. He did not tolerate disloyalty and gave no second chances.

The events of your parents 25th anniversary party had happened five years ago. You often wondered how your life would have gone if you had never accepted his hand when he gave it. Your father had been supplying weapons to Sylus' organization for years. He'd apparently stuck some kind of deal with Sylus, that had involved your protection.

Sylus had married you, per your father's request and now he owned almost half of your family business. Haven acquired your mother and father's shares. He'd left yours to you.

At first you'd been absolutely terrified of him. His aura radiated danger, almost like he was a living grim reaper. He so often came back to the manor covered in blood. The twins were his direct subordinates. They followed his every command quickly and without hesitation. But at least they had a personality and could provide a sense of calm.

It had taken almost a year before you could approach Sylus without feeling nervous. You hadn't been able to understand your fear of him. He'd posed no restrictions on you, didn't make any ridiculous demands and had never threatened you with harm of any kind.

The turning point had been the day he'd come home injured and concern over his bleeding wounds had overrode the fear. Despite his insistence that he didn't need any first aide treatment, Sylus had not pushed you away or tried to stop you from cleaning his wounds.

After that he began spending time with you and talked to you. Before you knew it you looked forward to when he would come home and just talk to you for awhile. These little gestures and act of kindness had resonated in your heart and little by little you felt yourself falling for him.

He'd granted your request to be touched by him and he spent a night with you. Thinking that he too had given his heart to you, you lived your days believing that he loved you back. That was until she appeared.

In an instant his entire demeanor changed. He made her his top priority. Spending any and all time he had with her. Most nights he didn't even come to your room anymore. His side of the bed was often unspent in.

You hadn't officially met her yet, only seen her in passing. She was beautiful. Long dark hair hung in neat and straight lengths down to her very slender waist. Piercing eyes almost the shade of jade framed by thick dark lashes. She was on the shorter side, even you were taller than she was. This woman held some kind of connection with your husband and the knowledge that your place was very quickly being stripped away gnawed at you from the inside.

Wandering aimlessly through the manor one day you discovered the ladder that lead up to the roof. Even though it was cold outside, you still sat there on the roof. Wondering how long it would be before you were forgotten completely.

Despite the cold and the swirling snow, you dozed off hugging your arms to your sides. What seemed like minutes later you were woken up by a piercing light. The sun was beginning to sting your eyelids, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun's first rays of the day, you tried to sit up straight. Your whole body was numb and cold. It took several minutes to rub feeling back into your fingers.

Carefully moving away from the edge of the roof you stood up. Your legs shook from the movement. Having been in the same position for too long, they had gone to sleep.

You did some light stretches and gradually the shaking and numbing little stings subsided and you felt more sure on your feet.

Finally you made your way to the roof latch, having left it open all night there was a pile of snow at the base of the ladder and it was freezing cold to the touch.

You descended the ladder and walked around the manor. It was quiet, most everyone was asleep at this time. Feeling the desire to see Sylus, you turn around and head to his room. He was usually there at this time. You hesitate at the door. Whenever you'd come to his room he was usually accompanying you.

Just as your about to knock, a voice addresses you from behind. "He's not here, Sylus went out for work. I've been waiting for him to return since last night." Turning around, you see that woman. Feeling angry for a reason you can't quite grasp, you turn around

and storm by her. Purposely bumping into her on the way by. She stumbles but you keep going.

Your sour mood lingers throughout the day killing any appetite oyi might have had. Your wandering leads you back to the roof and you sit in the same spot from the night before.

From your spot on the roof, you can hear his motorcycle approach the manor and you sit their contemplating what to do. Finally after another two hours you head back to his room. When you get there the door is adjacent and you silently push it open. You feel your heart stop.

There on the bed is Sylus on top of her. She's pinned down and it's very obvious what is going on. His naked back is to you and her equally naked leg is wrapped around his waist. Their kiss is intense that you feel your heart break. His hand is twined with hers and pinned above her head. You back away and run down the hall and go to the roof.

Hot tears are streaming down your face as you realized that Sylus had never loved you. He'd just been indulging you for the last several years because you were useful. He could even hate you for all you knew. The one he truly loved was currently tangled with him on his bed.

You feel your heart break further as you realize that with no family or friends you have nothing. You had only ever been useful to Sylus because of you family's business. That was not love and never could be.

You cry yourself to sleep on the roof again, completely defenseless and unaware of the eyes watching you. When you wake up again, there's a dull ache in your head and a ferocious growl in your stomach, but you have no desire to eat or even move.

You sit there watching the stars for what seemed like days. Eventually the sky begins to lighten as the sun begins its ascent across the sky. You continue to sit, even as heavy clouds roll in. Another snowfall is coming, you remembered from the weeks forecast you had read a few days ago. But still you don't move.

It's only when the wind cuts through you, chilling you to the bone that you get up. Once again you rub feeling back into your frozen limbs and head down the ladder. You avoid your room and his. Just the thought of sleeping in a bed you had shared with him makes your stomach turn. Your entire body burns with the feeling if betrayal, but you can neither act on it or alleviate it. The feeling simmers in your stomach driving away the need for food.

Eventually you end up on the couch. The warmth from the fire burning in the hearth slowly warms you up and a drowsy feeling over comes you. Stretching out and pulling the throw down over you, you manage to drift off into a restless sleep.

After what feels like minutes, your body is shaken awake. It's that woman again, hate burns through your veins. You want to tear her apart and rip her to shreds. You glare at everything.

"Hey, the cook said you didn't eat dinner. So I brought you some food" She offers the plate to you. It's all your favorite things. A light fruit salad with beautifully cut fresh fruit and a stack of golden waffles topped with whipped cream and raspberries. Your anger overtakes you and you sit up and shove the plate away from you. She's so surprised at this action that she stumbles back, dropping the plate as she does. The delicate China shatters on the floor as the fruit scattered and the waffles sit there on top of the broken peices.

She looks at you with hurt on her face. "Why did you do that?" She asks just as Sylus enters the room. He looks annoyed at the mess on the floor. Concern overtakes him as he comes closer. Of course none of it is for you, she's the only important one in his eyes. A shard of the plate had bounced of the floor and put a cut on her arm. She had a line of bright red blood blooming out from the slice.

"Did you really think I would accept anything from YOU?" You spit the words at her like venom and stand up. "I know your not so stupid as to be unaware that Sylus is my husband." Your words are as cold as the ice outside. Red blooms across her face as realization strikes her.

You turn to leave the room and just as your about to step into the hall something grabs your arm and yanks you back. Your head whips around and your suddenly face to face with Sylus angry expression.

"She is my guest, you will treat her with respect. Don't lay your hands on her again." You rip your arm from his grasp. "You must think I'm an idiot. She's getting a hell of a lot more than hospitality from you. I owe her NOTHING. She is nothing to me but a sneaky slut that wormed her way into a married man's bed. Both of you disgust me." You storm from the room. As you leave, you take notice of the twins. They are also watching you, but you do not care.

You return to your room and begin to make preparations. You're almost certain now that Sylus hates you. "Divorce is pretty much guaranteed." You say out loud to no one. As you look around the room you realize that nothing in it is truly yours. Everything had been given by Sylus after your marriage. "What a joke I am. I must be the biggest idiot in all of the world. I never should have married him. He was a complete stranger. What a fool!" You kick the dresser in anger, the pain just spurs you on.

After ripping the sheets off the bed and throwing them to the floor your anger had only increased. Grabbing the nearest object, your hurl it to the floor. Feeling satisfied as it shatters. You begin throwing things all over the room. In minutes the neat, beautifully decorated room is in shambles. Glass, sheets, books, jewelry, makeup, and nick-nacks are all over the floor. You turn and leave the disaster you made, making sure to slam the door as hard as you can on your way out. The paintings on the wall tremble from the force.

You storm through the manor headed for the stairs again. You don't recognize the lightheaded woozy feeling that has over come you and you feel dizzy as you reach the ladder that goes to the roof. Halfway up, your foot slips. Before you fall, in a burst of adrenaline you manage to grab the ladder securely. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you cling to the rungs. "That was too close," you mutter taking deep, steady breaths.

Undeterred, you climb the ladder anyway, resolute in seeking peace on the roof once more. It takes a lot more effort to climb up than it had in previous climbs. Your huffing and puffing by the time you manage to get up.

As you walk to the ledge and glance at the snow covered ground below, you realize something is off. The footsteps in the snow are not yours and since it had been snowing for hours, the ones from earlier would have long since been hidden under more snow.

You whirl around ad your mind screams danger. You hands fumble through your layers of clothing to grab the knife you always kept with you. It was a custom blade and designed to attach to your bra. Although it was small, it was very sharp and could easily cut and stab in defense. As your hand manages to grab the handle a figure appears from the top of the roof. He easily jumps down to where you are.

"To think that the infamous wife of Onychinus' boss would be so easy to get to. No bodyguard?" He asks in a taunting tone. The man is dressed head to foot in black. His entire body is covered save for his eyes. Black as a blank night sky and soulless. He points a gun at you. "Drop the knife, or I'll put a bullet in you right here." He says his finger twitching on the trigger.

Having been taught how to fight from a small age, you fein dropping the knife as he moves closer. Just as he's within reach you spin it around and drive it into his upper arm. Unfortunately he was prepared for your tricks and fires the gun. The bullet burries itself deep into your thigh. You cry out and collapse to the ground clutching the wound. Blood seeps between your fingers and down your leg. Falling upon the snow.

"You're going to regret that." The man says as he pulls the blade out of his arm and flings it to the ground. He reaches out and grabs you. You're enveloped in a blinding light and then everything fades away. Sight, sound, and feeling are gone.

It feels like you're floating in darkness for a long time. You struggle to move, bit something is restricting you're movements. A rattling sound is the first thing you can hear as your senses come flooding back. The pain slams into you again and you groan. You realize that you've been blindfolded with a thick cloth.

"She's finally awake. I would really like to know about that blade she stabbed you with. It really did a number on your arm. It must have been very sharp.

"Shut up and just do your job. The boss needs information and she's going to have it. He said do whatever it takes to get it out of her. Just don't kill her." A gleeful cackle made you shudder and then footsteps came closer to you.

"Darkness makes the pain more intense. You will tell me what we want to know." The man says and then you can hear metal being moved around. Your heart begins to race. There is nothing for you to tell them. Sylus had always made sure that you knew nothing of his business and plans. You had only ever overseen the production of weapons. You didn't know their purpose or intended use.

"I imagine I'll get away with it if I do kill you though. Osric was his brother just so you know. Boss has a personal grudge to pick with you and Sylus. This is going to be delicious. Let's begin. We'll start with something easy." He said and then you could feel him standing at your side.

Hours had passed since the torture had begun, but no matter what question he asked the result was the same. You didn't know.

He had tried a variety of methods to break you. The first had been pulling you fingernails our. It had been excruciating and you nearly passed out several times. The he had tried whipping you. Your back was a raw bloody mess from all the cuts. That had made you pass out. His ways of waking you up again were resolute. Dumping ice water on you seemed to do the trick.

Your mind felt like it was going to snap if this went on much longer. Your voice was raspy and hoarse from the hours of screaming and crying. At first you had tried to hold back, but this maniac had taken it as a challenge. Several times he had said you were boring him with your instant responses.

"You're n-not going to-o get any.. anything fro-om me. I have nothing to tell. Even if I wanted to." This was not the first time you had said those words. It's just they fell on deaf ears. "Ju-just kill me al-ready. I I'm useless to yo-ou. He-e doesn't ca-are about me. Ju-just end it already. I-I don't kn-ow anything." This went on for days. You knew time was passing but you had no idea how much until finally a different person entered the room.

"Boss is fed up with you. He wants to know why she hasn't spilled her guts yet. He's tired of waiting for what he wants to know. Can't believe three days and she hasn't cracked once." His voice sounded disappointed and uninterested.

You'd lost count of all the methods they had tried to get you to speak. Several times you had begged him to just kill you but he'd only laughed in response. Sleep had been allowed a few times and sips of water had been given.

They had never removed your blindfold, and you were glad that you could not see what had been done to you. Even if you could feel every injury, being able to see them would have made it ten times worse.

Just as he was getting ready to start again, the door was blasted open. It sounded like it had been ripped right off the hinges. Chaos ensued with whatever had cause the door to explode, and the man started yelling.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" Crashes followed the words, and then a guttural sputter followed. Seconds later, you felt hands touching you, and you flinched, thinking that more pain would follow. To your surprise, the restraints on your arms and legs were removed, and then someone was carefully helping you sit up. A pair of hands touched the blindfold and then dim light hit your eyes. You screwed them shut feeling that it was painful.

Every part of your body hurt. Stinging and burning sensations were running rampant all over and you just wanted it to end. "We need to move." A familiar voice said in your ear. You open your eyes, ignoring the pain from the light and look at the voice. To your complete surprise Luke and Kieran are by your side.

"We've come to get you. Boss is so angry. I don't want to stick around here." The twins had their usual care free attitude as they watched you. "Why?" You asked looking at the pair. You could sense their confusion. "What do you mean why? You're Boss's wife. Of course he will take back what is his." One of them said as the other drapped a blanket over you and then carefully picked you up.

You grimaced and tried not to show the pain. "M-my leg is broken." You managed to get out between gritted teeth and gasps. They said nothing as they took you out the door.

Having never seen any of the place you were in, you were surprised at the twisting hallways and maze like route that you were taking. But the twins seemed undeterred and walked quickly. Before long there was a heavy metal door in front of you. It was all dented and it looked like an explosion had hit it. The door was already adjar and upon further investigation, you notice that it's hanging off the hinges.

Walking down another short hallway you come up into a large room. With a start you realize that blood is everywhere and there are bodies scattered through out the room. At the front leaning against a table is Sylus. He looks irritated and he has blood spattered on his face. He stands up straight when he sees you and the twins. His gaze hardens as he looks you over.

"Why did you come?" He looks at you blankly, his face giving nothing away. He just looks at you like he's staring right through you.

"Did you ever, even for one second love me?" You ask after several tense minutes go by. He still says nothing. Feeling the unsaid confirmation of what you had thought to be true now a reality you close your eyes against the tears.

A minute later and you open them again. "I am over this. I just want it to end. I don't care about anything anymore. I no longer want anything as I also posses nothing. You can have it all. I just want it to end." After letting go you feel like a weight has fallen off your shoulders. All the hate and resentment you'd felt several days ago has disappeared.

"Take her to the manor and contact the dr." Sylus finally says after many moments. The twins immediately move out. Despite their best efforts you get jostled several times and the pain makes you pass out. You surrender to unconsciousness, thankful to escape for however short a time it will last.

Over the next several months you are confined to bed to allow you injuries to heal. The scarring isn't as bad as you had though it would be, but it extends over most of your arms legs and back. The whip scars will never disappear and serve as a constant reminder to never show your back to anyone.

Eventually the day arrives that the dr tells you all of you injuries have healed and he discharges you from his care. Eight months have passed since that day and finally you are back on your feet. Having packed a bag with a few sets of clothes you grab the strap and the papers you had asked for a few days ago.

Without hesitation you go to Sylus' office and open the door. He is sitting at his desk reading some documents. You walk over and set two things down. One of them reads Transfer of Assets and the other says Annulment of Marriage. Placing a pen on top of it you say resolute "sign them and then you'll never see me again." You take a step back and wait.

He sets the papers down and looks at what you have placed on his desk with a raised eyebrow. "What is this?" You inwardly sigh. "Sinc you do not love me and I have no desire to play second fiddle to anyone else I am not staying. Clearly there is no place for me here. This is to repay the treatment I was given. You owe me nothing and I owe you nothing." You're confidant that with relinquishing your rights to your family's business and everything you endured being at his side will more than repay him.

He appears to be lost in thought as he reads over the papers. "You really want nothing in return?" The only thing you had asked for in the divorce agreement was that he not seek you out and that your paths never cross again. You nod and finally he moves to sign them. You turn on your heel and walk out of the door, out of his manor. This corrupt part of the city and out of his life forever.

A sense of peace washes over you as you get into your car and turn the ignition. Ready to begin your own life.

****************************************************

And thus ends another one. I did make some tweaks to the original plot line I was given because it flowed better in this way. I do hope you don't mind. I stuck to what you gave me as much as possible. I hope you enjoyed this one

Tag list:

@tom-pls-fuck-me

@barbuse @mariposa666haruka @cosmocup1d @xthefuckerysquaredx @bokerayboke

@ellieevu @prettytemis @bananagoesbonkers4 @dreamerwasfound @sweet2wth

@tanspostsblog @linxiajei17 @jeondyy @alexatiu

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Six

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Oral (f & brief male receiving), barn sex yeehaw, PIV (no protection), praise, I love gaz sm he’s so fucking sexy and hot, titty sucking, more hickies!!!!

Masterlist

Your brow cocked towards the Scotsman, his arms folded against the width of his chest as he stared at you, Arctic blue orbs swirling with mischief as he stepped closer to you, chapped lips flushed against the heat of your forehead before he was strumming upstairs.

The day was sombre. The sky was roiling, a pall of menacing clouds enveloping the forest with a darkened haze, the soft jingles of the wind chimes sounding out to you as you rushed the horses into the barn, snouts whining and hissing out breathy grunts as a roll of thunder cracked through.

Bubbling heat simmered in the pit of your stomach; your body flushed with fervour as you scurried outside, your legs turning to mush as anxious feet padded against the soil, parched digits digging into reins. Your body ached with a needing demand, a need to be satisfied, not only by Price but by them all.

It was taboo. It should feel wrong. This wasn’t you. The growing ache that seethed between your thighs, only fed into the perpetual insistence that needed to be met. You needed to be fucked. Again, and again and again.

You rolled your eyes at yourself, the flush of iris visible as you trembled into the barn, pulling on Nancy as she trotted along, heavy hoofs skating across the already dirtied floors. As you secured the horses away, your eyes trained in on the door, the sound of heavy footsteps coiling into your stomach before Gaz appeared.

You weren’t quite sure what it was about him. He gave you a sense of comfort, his eyes gentle yet zealous, speckles of gold flaking through the endless diversions of umber. His presence was homely, settling around you like a forest fire, fusillading the anguished need you held for him. His smile was soft as he gazed at you, standing bashfully at the barn doors, chiselled arms pressed against the wood.

“Thought I would find you here,” he remarked, taking a step forward as he felt the spit of rain pellet down on his warm skin.

You raised a brow, “You looking for me?” Your tone was knowing, almost teasing as he let out a shy laugh, pearly teeth on display as his tongue kissed them, the simmer of the light reflecting against them. He was pretty, almost too pretty, the arrogant broil of his eyes sending a pit into your stomach as he stepped closer.

“Just felt like we, I, haven’t thanked you properly.”

“It’s alright, Gaz. Couldn’t exactly turn you all away, could I?” You tried to make light of the situation, your eyes averting to the floor as you shifted awkwardly.

“You gonna let me thank you, sweetheart? Hm?”

Your feet were clumsy, as you stumbled back, spine flush against a bale of hay as he stalked towards you. You felt like his prey, tantalising jaws snapping down on the silk of your flesh as he sucked the sweet liquor of your blood into his taste buds. Cadaverous hands groped at your thigh, melting the softness of the fat into his hands as he practically cooed at you.

His voice was patronising, threads of disdain lacing it as his grip found your knees, pulling them apart gently. Straw scratched at your legs, sending a jolt through you as you watched him through hooded eyes. His eyes were darker now, flushed over with desire as he pushed his crotch up against you, an evident bulge covered by denim petting your clad heat almost maliciously as you gulped down the air that flooded your organs.

Nails dug into your tender skin, crescent-shaped moons tattooing along the flesh as you whined. “I asked you a question,” he tsked, kissing along your jaw.

“Y-Yeah, you can thank me.”

The strain of your voice enveloped a laugh out of him, rough hands toying with your top before you lifted your arms up, bare chest on display as the cool air puckered up your nipples, his eyes darting between the two before his hands were wrapping around your neck, pushing against you slightly to arch your back before feverish lips were tugging at the buds, teasing them between his teeth before he would pull away and suck at the sore skin, tainted by hickies.

“Old man wanted to mark you up,” he growled as his hands released from your neck, toying with your tits as your core ached. The sensation was all too much, yet not enough. Greedy hips ground against the bulge that was pressed against you, a groan sounding out from between your tits.

“Are you gonna thank me?” You quipped, pulling at his hair as he clutched a nipple between his lips before pulling away with a subtle pop.

“Greedy, aren’t you?  Just need to be filled up by us all?” Gaz smirked.

Your hips responded for you, pussy clenching around nothing as you panted, your breath wanton. His digits found your buttons, plucking at them before you raised yourself, letting him slide them off down you revealing your aching sex, thin cotton smeared against it as your slick darkened them. Gaz groaned in reply, rubbing at the wet patch feverishly as your lips found his neck, licking a stripe against his defined collarbone.

You swore, your voice lost in the crackle of the wind as he peeled your panties to the side, your aching cunt throbbing as he spread your folds apart, smiling in appreciation at the sloppy strings of slick webbing between your lips.

“Pretty fucking pussy,” he nodded as he pushed you back, throwing your legs over his shoulders as a rough thumb pressed against your clit, almost unsure if he wanted to use his fingers or mouth before he settled for both, his wet muscle toying with your entrance before plunging in, enveloping your gummy walls with his spit as his digit engulfed harsh circles around the sensitive nub.

Needy moans left your throat as you palmed at the hay below you, another hand buried in his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as your pussy rode along his tongue, chasing a desperate release.

His touch was electric, spreading zaps of energy throughout you, engulfing your spine as your back arched further at the torment of his tongue, his laps gargling against your slick as he teased you.

Feverish hands wrapped around the fat of your thighs, bruising touches doubling every sensation you felt as you mewled against him, bucking your hips as you chased your high.

Teeth grazed against your throbbing clit, the sensation almost overwhelming as you gasped out, full lips sucking the bud as you convulsed, the air thick with arousal as the breathy sounds of your moans sipped through the holes of the barn walls.

Rain slashed against the roof as you threw your head back, Gaz’s torture against your pussy stimulating every nerve in your cunt as you choked out, gasping for oxygen as you found yourself holding your breath, too focused on the pleasure he was wracking through you.

His assault was continuous, his muscle lapping at your heat, slick pooling below you as fingers tightened against the straw, scratching against your palm.

“Oh - fuck,” you whined, your voice raising an octave as pleasure coiled in your stomach, spindling through every muscle and nerve as your legs convulsed, your belly tightening until it snapped, sending your eyes rolling back as you clutched onto the bale below you, Gaz’s mouth moaning against your slit as you cried out.

Your actions were clumsy as you pushed his face away at the overstimulation, your clit swollen as you took in his pussy-drunk expression, full lips glistening with your arousal, a trail of spit dribbling down his chin as he smiled at you.

“Please fuck me,” you quipped, clutching onto his shoulder before a hand gripped at the tent in his pants, palming the aching member with need as he growled against your neck, nipping the tender flesh before his hands were at his belt.

Gaz nodded as you pulled him in roughly, your tongues lashing against each other as you hummed at the taste of yourself, the tangy feeling melting between your saliva as the Sergeant tore his slacks down his muscled thighs.

You broke the kiss, looking down at his member. He was longer than John with less girth, yet still staggering in size, the mushroom tip flushed a begging purple as silk pearls of pre-cum coiled down his aching length.

Needy hips aligned with yours as he flushed the tip against your folds, smirking at the gooey sounds of your wetness. You whined in anguish. You felt like you were in heat, your body craving your womb to be filled.

The burn stretched through you, your brows furrowing in pain as you pushed against his chest before his hands were against yours, soothing you as he kissed you, setting a bruising pace between your lips, his cock working through you inch by inch as you gasped.

“That’s it baby, relax for me. Good girl.”

His tone was soft as he praised you, working through the tightness of your gummy walls with ease before he bottomed out, heavy balls slapping against the crevice of your ass as your neck buried in the crook of his neck.

“Please, I need you,” you whimpered, lips nibbling at his neck, savouring the salty taste of his sweat before he chuckled, his hips bucking against your sweet spot, his tip kissing your cervix deliciously as he began to rock inside you, setting a slow pace as he felt every ridge against his cock.

His tongue was filthy as he spat out expletives, his pace quickening with every fleeting second as you bashfully choked out whines and moans into his skin.

“Taking me so fucking well, Jesus Christ.”

His strokes were brutal, rubbing against your cervix selfishly as your mouth sounded out babbles, your eyes rolled back as you felt the trickle of sweat pooling at the back of your knees.

The pleasure was white hot, engulfing you with demand as you submitted your entirety to him, falling limp as his hips slapped against your sensitive skin, his fingers tugging at your nipples through your slouched figure as you moaned.

His pace fastened once more before he grunted, pulling out as his cock pulsated with the need to cum. Your motions were sloppy as you gripped the shaft, knees buckling as you lifted yourself to the floor, his member coated with your slick as you hummed at the taste, tracing the veins with your tongue whilst another hand cupped his heavy balls, squeezing them with a gentle motion before gargling the remainder of his cock down the pillow of your mouth.

“Holy fuck,” he bucked, hips moving rhythmically before he spluttered out, his cum gushing down the naval of your throat as you coughed, swallowing down the thick liquid with a huff as the remainder dribbled out of your lip.

Gaz’s hand found your hair, stroking the sweat along your forehead as he pulled you up, resting you along the hay again before dressing you slightly, as well as himself, before tugging you into the plushness of his chest, lazy legs wrapping around his waist before he was jogging with you through the downpour of the rain.

Holy fuck balls I feel like my writing has gotten so SLACK!!!!!

[theres-a-body-here]

Monster dick problems

A sequel to this post

Feeling like a dumbass, you sit on top of your Minotaur boyfriend's lap on the living room couch, pressing your face into his firm pecs as hot tears roll down your cheeks. He hugs you close, running reassuring circles on your back with one massive hand as you sniveled.

"Shh… shh… I told you to be patient," he murmurs gently as he holds you close, still supporting your weight easily. His deep voice rumbles beneath your ear, vibrating through your entire body and making you shiver involuntarily.

It was true - you had been hasty and impatient again, trying to take him all at once during sex. You should have known better than to try and rush things, especially with a fat cock like his.

Feeling ashamed of yourself for being too eager, you bury your face deeper into his muscular chest, letting out a muffled noise as you nod quietly. A heavy sigh escapes his broad chest as he catches on to your embarrassment.

Deciding to switch topics, he cups your chin in his huge palm and tilts your head upwards, placing a gentle kiss to your tear-stained cheek. Leaning back slightly, he gazes down at you with concern etched across his features.

"Does it still hurt?" he whispers softly, his warm breath tickling your face as his free hand lowers to gently pat your bottom.

Unable to find your voice yet, you nod silently in response, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. Sensing your distress, he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his strong arms tightly around your waist. He plants a tender kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

His thumb brushes away at your tears as he leans back to look into your eyes, cupping your face in both hands.

"It's alright, baby boy," he croons softly as he watches you. "We'll give it another shot later tonight, once you've had time to prepare properly. Just relax for now."

You burrow further into his protective embrace, hiding your face in his hard chest once again. Sniffling, you listen to the steady rhythm of his beating heart beneath your ear, focusing on its calming tempo. His strong arms hold you close to him securely as he idly strokes your back lovingly with one massive hand.

[kykyonthemoon]

Rain On The Way Home

Zayne takes you home after an argument between the two of you.

ಇ. Zayne x Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags & warnings: since there's a bit spicy at the end I shall put 16+, MDNI here, fluff, short and sweet, kiss and make up, making out, argument, hurt/comfort, established relationship, character might be a bit ooc idk.

ಇ. Word count: ~1k9

ಇ. Based on a request by YNhi.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Your lips were pursed tightly. Hands placed on your thighs were clenched so tightly that you could feel the nails digging into your skin. You did your hardest to keep back the tears that threatened to fall, but failed. Warm drops dripped on the back of your hands, and you brushed them away as soon as you noticed a familiar figure approaching from afar.

Zayne opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He did not glance at you or say anything. You turned entirely to face the window, observing the soft drizzle fall outside. All you wanted to do was kick the car door open, run out into the rain and scream your lungs out.

The atmosphere between the two of you had never been this stuffy. You could have left alone, but because your body was injured and your emotions were all over the place, you lacked the strength to oppose Zayne's decision. So you let him do anything he wanted. Perhaps that was best for both.

Just a second ago, you fought to reject him and ended up sitting here with bitterness in your heart, allowing him to take you home, allowing him to control you like a puppet again.

The third time you had been hospitalized in one short month, you had also reached Zayne's limit.

People at the hospital claimed that when Dr. Zayne was upset, he became quite frightening. They thought he would explode and anyone unlucky enough to get in his way would suffer. On the contrary, Zayne's rage was like a blizzard on the horizon. You might believe it would not find you, but when it did, no matter where you hid, you would never be secure. 

And that day, for the first time ever, Doctor Zayne was seen losing his usual composure.

His lengthy and fast steps resembled racing through long and busy corridors. The hospital room door opened in such a way that it was about to come off its hinges. Zayne's face solidified. Without a word, he confiscated your medical documents and commanded everyone to go, in such a frightening manner that the nurse caring for you had to shiver from the cold after leaving.

Zayne looked at the documents and then at the wound on your shoulder. It was treated in time but remained painful. The injury had left you quite weak, but after nearly a day of medical care, what distressed you the most was Zayne's attitude.

Before he could say anything, you spoke up and explained:

“It was just an incident… It wasn't like I took the initiative to accept this mission. It's just that there were no other Hunters closer to the attack area than I was…”

“That's why, despite the fact that you hadn't completely recovered and were resting, you hurried to the scene, dismissing your prior injuries. Dismissing your doctor's orders?"

One corner of the file in Zayne's hand was so tight that it became wrinkled when he let go and threw it hard on the nearby table. He turned his back on you and looked out the window. One hand on his hip, the other hand to bury his face. He acted as if he was trying his best to retain the last bit of composure. 

"I'm fine." You said. "I honestly felt no discomfort. I have been able to move properly for a week now. Staying at home constantly is boring. I needed to stretch a little so I could get back to work quickly."

Zayne slowly turned around to look at you. He was still standing in the corner of the room, and you noticed the window glass behind him starting to freeze. 

“You were bored? If you feel bored, call your friends. If you feel bored, go shopping or hang out where you like to go. You were bored so you decided to jump right into a group of Wanderers?"

“Zayne…” You grimaced. “I don't like you this way… You… are acting so strange…”

“Do you think I'd like to see you lying here? Do you think I'd like to see you being carried to the hospital?"

"I'm sorry…" You murmured. You knew it was you to blame for not listening to him and instead running to the scene of the attack. But you were conscious of your own strength and wanted to fulfill the commitment you made when you decided to become a Hunter.

"You've said sorry for the third time this month." Zayne responded. His face was rigid, yet his fists were clasped firmly. "I've heard enough."

"Oh, just quit it!" You abruptly raised your voice. "I told you I didn't like you acting this way. As a Hunter, it's normal for me to get hurt!"

Zayne opened his eyes wide. He was astonished by your response. He stayed silent so you could pour out your feelings.

“I am capable of taking care of myself! I don't like being told what to eat or drink. I don't like being told what time I must  go to bed. Or being compelled to stay at home even though I have completely recovered and ready to battle! I'm not a child for you to order around, or tell me to do this and that!”

“You're saying, I'm too controlling over you?”

“I…” You halted. It seemed that was true. Even while you knew Zayne had good intentions and genuinely cared for you, you were unable to avoid feeling as if he was in charge of every part of your life, controlling every meal and sleep. 

"Understood."

Silence permeated the hospital room for a long moment. Zayne gazed at you as if he was considering something, then he started to pack up your clothes and belongings that remained in the room.

“What are you doing?” 

Zayne responded: “I don't want to be the one who controls you. You will be discharged from the hospital and free to do as you please.”

“What do you mean by that?” Free? It sounded like he did not care about you anymore. It sounded like he was going to give you your freedom back by not getting involved in anything related to you anymore.

“I will not force you to stay here. No one can do that. In roughly ten minutes, someone will come and take you to my car. I only ask you to do this for me once more.”

Having said that, Zayne turned and left. The door closed behind his broad back and you swore you were about to cry right from that moment.

The nurse came to inform you that Dr. Zayne had directly requested your discharge from the hospital. They let you go since your situation was not too serious and they believed Zayne would care for you discreetly at home. Zayne waited for you in the parking lot. He unlocked the door for you to enter first and returned to fetch a few more medical supplies before driving you home.  

All along the way, you kept wondering if you had made a big mistake. You were exceptionally disrespectful and became frustrated with Zayne for no reason. However, he did not give in to you as he always did. Confused, you simply wanted to lie down on your pleasant mattress at home and weep loudly. However, as the car came to a halt in front of your flat, Zayne refused to let you get out.

You turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and miserable. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then your eyes met for a moment. You were the first to break that connection.

"I'm home now. Can I leave yet? Or do I still have to wait for your permission?"

"Just stay a little more." Zayne's deep voice rang out. He was considerably more relaxed now than he had been previously. "I'm sorry…"

That was the first time you had heard an apology from him. How strange! Usually, you were the one making trouble, and Zayne was the one who looked after you. You were the one who said sorry. Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made you feel so odd.

“I'm sorry if I become too controlling and that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You were astonished for a second. You still wanted to weep, but your emotions had settled down considerably.

Zayne slipped his hand down from the steering wheel to seize yours and turned it over. He said:

“When I saw you almost unconscious from the poison, being carried into the hospital room, my heart seemed to stop beating. That is not something I want to see at all.”

Zayne's eyes were quite sorrowful. You subconsciously imagined that if you switched roles and the injured person was him, you definitely would not be able to remain calm in such a situation.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Zayne continued. “But I still want to help you do that and protect you. In my own way.”

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of calmness. The street lights were illuminated, and the rain stopped pouring. You softly clutched his hand.

“I'm sorry too, because what I said was not true… I didn't mean to call you a dictator who controls this relationship…”

You smiled at him. The corners of Zayne's lips also loosened somewhat. He took your hand and tenderly pressed a kiss on.

“I'm really okay.” You added. “The doctor also said that the poison from the Wanderers had been purified. I don't feel too much pain anymore."

Zayne gave a slight nod. He understood this from the moment he read your record. That was why he boldly asked for you to be discharged from the hospital. Even though he was upset, your safety would come first in any case.

"You said you were fine?" Zayne inquired out of the blue. "How do you prove it then?"

You exhaled. After all, he still had reservations about your ability to care for yourself. You leaned in to offer him a passionate kiss. The resentment in your heart melted away in his warmth.

As your lips withdrew from Zayne's, he whispered:

"Good enough. However, in the future, if there is an issue between us, or if you are dissatisfied with something I do,... can I trust you to talk to me directly about it?"

You gave a modest nod. Zayne kissed you, deep. He caressed you but only so gently, as if afraid that you would melt into rain bubbles if he became too greedy. A while later, perhaps since your head was hazy from the injury, you had no clue how you ended up sitting on top of Zayne in the driver's seat, your lips locked with him while your hands constantly touching his flesh underneath the shirt. His delicate but searing kisses fell on your shoulder, around the bandaged area that had just been revealed to his sight as he pulled your shirt down. He kissed your wounds, new and old. He asked softly, would you feel pain if he touched them? And you replied that there was only pain if he did not do so.

Rain began pouring again; it might last all night long. How convenient, since he did not intend to let you get out of the car in such a condition.

[meowpupp]

Hi , im here with a thought, i can just imagine puppy reader crying to price about what kyle did and how she was just curious and she didnt really wanna disobey and to please not get rid of her and stuff like that , so kyles punishment is eating the reader out just exactly as price wants , price i feel like is more aggressive and less forgiving towards kyle compared to reader , i feel like price has that "nothing is your fault ♡" attitude for his sweet pup

pt1

owner!price x chubby!puppgirl x pup!kyle

tw//: p in v, oral (fem reciving), hybrid receiving, collars, rough sex, slight mention of overstim, fem reader, collars, probably my most filthy smut yet

prices heart breaks as you cry into his chest, clinging onto him tightly. in all his time with you, hes never seen you so distraught. your body is almost shaking, tail low and ears pulled back as you sob and babble. he just holds you tight, rubbing a big hand firmly up and down your back. “Shhh, s’okay pup. Talk t’me when youre ready, okay?” 

It takes almost ten minutes, tears still spilling down your face as you pull back to look up to him. “please, m sorry captain. i didnt mean t’break the rules,” your words are interrupted by uncontrollable hiccups and stutters, hands gripping his shirt tightly, “please sir, please don get rid of me. i promise ill be good!! wont ever break the rules again, please!!!” you break down into a fit of sobs again, whimpering into his chest as he holds you tight.

He easily lifts you up, your body melting into his as he sits you ontop him. you now straddle his lap, burying your face into his neck. its almost sweet, how youre so desperate for his comfort despite your expectation of rejection. price just holds you tight, hands firm and secure on your body, breath steady and soothing. once you calm, he slowly pulls the story out of you. every little detail. 

he tries to hide the way his face darkens as you speak, his eyes narrowing as you explain what kyle had done. once youre done, he sighs, hands still rubbing circles on your back. he glances over your shoulder, eyes lingering on the garage door. 

“stay here, okay? Be a good girl f’me and strip. kyles gonna say sorry for bein so mean.” with a kiss on your forehead, he lays you down on the couch, leaving you to follow his instructions. 

within ten minutes he returns, not even glancing at you as he enters. his eyes are trained on kyle, watching him closely. a leash is clipped to his sprenger collar. a new addition. 

he forces the other pup to kneel at your feet, hands forceful and grip rough. kyle is huge, broad-shouldered and muscular, looming over you between your spread legs, his eyes trained on your pretty cunt. you can almost see him drool, licking his teeth as he looks over your exposed body as if wanting nothing more than to grip onto plush waist and bury himself 9 inches deep. 

youre snapped back into reality as price tugs harshly on kyles leash, making the collar dig into his neck. “Speak, mutt.” the tone of his voice almost makes you curl into yourself. he sounds vicious, angrier than youve ever seen him. 

kyle eyes meet yours for the first time, “im… sorry.” he mumbles half-assed. you can tell hes itching for your soft body. its almost torture having you spread out for him, yet denied the permission to touch. 

price almost growls as he tugs the leash harder, causing kyles eyes to widen for a moment. “fuck, im sorry, i swear.”

price lets out a huff, pushing kyles head down, making him come face to face with your pretty cunt. “Show her, mutt. Apologise properly.”

its almost instant the way kyle buries his head in you. his hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush to his face. his nose bumping your clit as drinks in your slick. its perverted, the wet noises that fill the room, the way he groans as ruts into the couch as he devours you. 

price doesnt allow him an inch of space, denying him reprieve from your drooling cunt. his voice cuts through the mix of moans, directing kyle exactly what to do. telling him how fast, how slow, whether to suck your clit or thrust his tongue. hes almost cruel, tugging kyles collar harshly each time he doesnt listen, leaving angry red marks around his neck. 

but to you? well, how could he ever be mean to his sweet girl? a calloused hand cups your cheek, his low, growly voice talking you through your nth orgasm. he kisses your forehead, letting you hold his free hand tightly as your legs shake and your hips buck, your voice filling the room as you cry out. 

its only once kyles face is completely covered in your slick that he lets the pup pull away. hes panting, cock straining against his pants as he aches for release. kyles eyes meet prices, desperate and needy. “Captain, please, fuck,” his hands twitch as they hold your thighs, resisting the urge to pull your twitching cunt closer, “let me fuck her, ill make her feel so fucking good, have her screaming for you-” 

hes cut off, eyes wide as price harshly grips his jaw. “When are you gonna learn?” price reaches down, palming kyles growing tent, making the pup whine, “shes not yours to fuck.” he lets go, pushing kyle to the ground, denied and throbbing. 

price makes him watch as he gently picks you up, pulling you once again into his lap. your back presses to his chest, legs hooked around his knees, forced to spread. Price is quick to unbutton his pants, sinking you down on his fat dick. you can feel his hot breath tickle your neck as he laughs, finding amusement in the way your back bows as he forces himself deep inside you. 

his hands trail up the curve of your waist, coming up to cup your tits. he squeezes the fat, grinning as it bulges between the gaps of his fingers. you can both hear kyles whines, eyes trained on you as price starts to toy with your nipples for a moment. “moan for me pretty girl, let him hear how good i stretch out your tight fuckin cunt, how your pretty body belongs t’me.” his beard tickles you as his lips brush your neck, “bounce f’me pup, show kyle what hes missing out on.”

the roll of your hips is hypnotising, kyles eyes wide as he drinks in the sight. your tits slightly jiggle each time you come down, your thighs spread wide as price shows off your swollen cunt. “see that kyle? how she takes me?” price reaches out, gripping kyles arm and pulling. he lands with his cheek pressed against the soft pudge of your tummy, able to feel as price fills you with each thrust, “feel that?” price fucks up harder into you, making your body jolt as you squeak, “thats only for good fuckin pups.” 

he pushes kyle away again, leaving him to fall onto the floor, cock throbbing and aching as he watches your pretty cunt get ruined by your rightful owner <3

[imloyaltoscoups]

just a normal morning | kim mingyu

"Morning," you greeted him half-heartedly.

"It's already afternoon," he pointed out, his tone light with a hint of amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "Well, what time did you wake up then?" you retorted.

"Just two hours ago," Mingyu replied, his attention still focused on the stove.

"Exactly," you sighed, giving in to your exhaustion as you propped yourself up on the countertop, opting for the comfort of its cool surface over a proper chair. Sometimes, lounging was just more appealing than sitting properly.

He then turned off the stove and made his way over to you, his warm hands cupping your face gently. His touch was comforting, and you couldn't help but lean into it, despite your stubborn mood. His grin softened as he squeezed your cheeks playfully.

"Why is my baby girl so grumpy?" he teased, his canine teeth peeking through his grin, adding to his charm.

You reciprocated Mingyu's gesture, cupping his face in your hands. "I don't know, maybe someone didn't let me sleep last night," you replied with a hint of playful accusation, your eyes flickering down to his neck and shoulder. There, unmistakable hickeys and bite marks adorned his skin.

He caught the mischievous glint in your eyes as they roamed over his body, lingering on the evidence of your shared passion. With a playful chuckle, he gently tilted your chin upwards, drawing your attention back to his face.

"Hey now, my eyes are up here," he joked, his tone light and teasing.

You squinted your eyes at him in mock disbelief before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your foreheads together. A smile tugged at Mingyu's lips as he reciprocated, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

As the silence enveloped you both, Mingyu broke it with three simple words, "I love you." he whispered, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

A smile spread across your face, your heart swelling with warmth. Without a word, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. You could feel Mingyu's smile against your lips as he kissed you back.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, his hands started to roamed your body with a gentle priority, fingers tracing the curves of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You responded, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The kiss deepened, becoming more fervent with each passing moment. Mingyu's lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, a silent plea for more, for deeper connection. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you welcomed him eagerly, the taste of him overwhelming your senses.

As your tongues danced in a passionate embrace, a soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss. Mingyu's hands roamed lower, cupping the small of your back, pulling you flush against him until there was no space left between your bodies.

Time seemed to stand still as you became lost in the rhythm of your breaths, the pounding of your hearts echoing in the silence.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a sound of contentment and surrender. Mingyu responded with a gentle hum of approval, his lips moving against yours with a renewed sense of urgency.

As you finally pulled away, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the air. Gazing into each other's eyes, you cupped Mingyu's face in your hands, showering him with affectionate kisses. One by one, you kissed the tips of his nose, his forehead, both sides of his cheeks, and finally, one last smack on his lips, accompanied by a playful smack sound. "I love you too." you whispered.

He laughed at your display of affection, his eyes sparkling with adoration. He pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapped securely around you. "There you go again making me love you more," he whispered, his voice filled with love and sincerity.

Your stomach suddenly grumbled loudly, breaking the tender silence between you. He chuckled, pulling away from the embrace slightly. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I should finish cooking," he said with a smile.

Before he could step away, you wrapped your legs and arms around him like a koala, clinging tightly. "You can cook while I'm like this," you declared, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Mingyu laughed heartily, the sound vibrating through your entire body. "Alright, baby koala." he said, adjusting his grip to support you better. He carried you effortlessly back to the stove, your arms and legs securely wrapped around him.

Balancing you with ease, he resumed his cooking, stirring the contents of the pot with one hand while holding you with the other.

"You're making this a bit challenging, you know," he teased, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"That's the point," you quipped back, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before nuzzling into the crook of his neck again.

Mingyu chuckled and shook his head, but you could feel the smile tugging at his lips. With you clinging to him like this, he knew that cooking might take a bit longer, but he doesn't mind it at all.

....... ≿━━━━༺MINGYU༻━━━━≾ .......

[frmisnow]

MERLOT !

summary. nothing scarier then confronting past memories and being vulnerable!

notes. well! tbh i find it rly fascinating what events from their childhood make ppl act the way they do in relationships so i thought it would be intresting to dive into oc a lil further! hope y'all enjoy ˚⋆.✧˚

warnings /includes. ( 1.8 k / angst, fluff) comforting! 'let me take care of u'! ceo! jungkook x non specified! reader, hints at domestic abuse and daddy issues, angst, rly bad ex :/ , comfort!

the plane was once again quiet.

he doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't talk. you knew this would happen, you change people for the worse, that's what your father used to say. he became violent, blamed it on you and your 'reckless' behavior.

that's what happened to your ex as well; you used to like the innocence he asserted to you. embraced it, bathed in it because you finally felt like you learnt how to earn love. changed yourself for love.

but it was never enough, everything you offered at some point wasn't fulfilling to him. he changed too, not for good.

you don't want to ruin jungkook.

jungkook rarely even looked at you, didn't talk to you either besides business. and you are so scared that you had already worn onto him, that he was beginning to change as well.

not long after the plane landed, you're outside, wandering aimlessly through the city streets. the cold night air bites at your skin, but it doesn’t help to clear your mind.

you want to drown it out, drown him out. and it hurt because that was exactly what prompted you to meet him in the first place, you had wanted to drown your ex out. now the circle repeated itself.

why did life have to be so fucking unfair?

you push open the wooden door, it felt way to heavy, it was just a random bar you spotted while walking.

greeted an older bartender, ordered an whiskey. you happened to take a look at the bottle label: it was one of the ones jungkook had on his display. you were sure that your own life was actively playing a cruel joke on you.

but the pain is stubborn it doesn't go away with just a sip, clinges onto you, harder. you take another sip, bigger, it's another attempt — it was no use.

you want to go back to milan, at exactly 1:37am, walking around with him. but sadly, time doesn't cooperate so you motion for another drink, that's really all that you could do.

"drinking are we?" you hear a voice just as you settle the empty second glass on the table and you freeze momentarly. you don't have to turn around to see who it was, you knew the sharp and disapproving tone.

and suddenly the pain gets replaced with deep disgusting fear. earlier you had thought that you would rather feel anything else then the strong ache but you had been wrong. the misary had been better then this new emotion.

you give him the silence treatment, don't turn around, don't talk. in reality you were way to scared to look back in the first place.

"you're just like your father"

his words shouldn't get to you because deep down you knew he was wrong. you were nothing like the man he compared you to, could never be like him. but it still got to you, it stung.

it reopened wounds that you had worked tightly on wrapping and you frantically try to work on closing them again as he spat out more of his anger. the more he spoke, the more did your vision blurry and it made it impossible to tie them back properly.

he reaches his hand forward to touch your shoulder and you scream, tears coating your face. you think it would be a sight that would push him away, he hated seeing you a true mess, it wasn't the clean version he liked of you. yet he trys again, a smirk on his face.

you burry yourself behind the bartender's counter as the security drags him away, tears continue streaming down your face as you dial jungkooks number.

you don't remember what you tell him, you don't even quite understand yourself through the sobs but you do remember jungkook asking you if you were safe right now, that you should stay right there and that he'd be there in ten.

he makes it in seven.

jungkook holds your hand tightly while he leads you to his car, it was pouring. you wondered how he managed to be so fast without getting into an accident. he doesn't start the engine instead continues holding both of your hands calmly as you cry, doesn't ask any questions either.

he gives you a few more minutes, kisses your palms, tells you to breathe, tells you you're safe. you lean back against the seat, feeling the car’s warmth gradually ease the chill from your bones while he starts driving.

eventually, you make it to his house. you hadn't been able to fully register it back when you were drunk, but it was big, expensive, maybe a bit depressing with it's minimalist structure.

jungkook doesn't pressure you to talk inside too, wraps you in a fluffy blanket, prepares tea with a concentration that was admirable like he was perfecting it just for you as you watch him from your designated spot on the coach.

he sits beside you and brings your legs across his lap, handing you the warm cup full of tea. he watches you carefully as you blow on it gently before taking a tentative sip while he rubs your ankle comfortingly.

you take another sip from the tea, it's something cherry-flavored, burning hot. you rest your head against the familar coach, looking at him. you don't want to talk, don't want to disrupt the peace you felt right now, with the things your ex had done and said.

words full of anger and spite have no space and no use near jungkook, not now, not today.

he brings his hands to cup the back of your neck softly, "i can run you a hot bath, get you some clothes"

you close your eyes momentarly at his touch and your vocie cracks, "i'm sorry" you're sorry that you couldn't get over yourself and tell him what happened, sorry that the words of the man who hurt you so much still have so much effect over you, sorry that you hurted jungkook by ignoring him for the past few days.

jungkook shakes his head, "no, don’t apologize. you don't have to tell me what happened if you're not ready,” he pauses, “but i was really scared. when you called. i just-"

jungkook takes a deep breath. he runs his fingers over your shoulders before speaking again, “i just want you to be happy. just want you to be safe.”

you take a pause because those were beautiful words. but that's the thing with words, somebody says something beautiful, you want to remember but then you slowly start to forget. you wanted jungkook to tell you that everyday, so you'd never.

"i want you to be happy too," i'm just sure you wouldn't be happy with me. is the part you leave out, not wanting to ruin the moment.

his eyes soften as he watches over you, fingers brushing over your features, "i want to take care of you"

after you're finished with your tea, he guides you to the bathroom gently. helps you get out of your clothes, places light kisses on your back, makes sure the water is just warm enough.

he kisses the spot right below your ear while he begins slowly shampooing your hair, “do you want to talk about it now?” he asks quietly.

it's hard to get your tongue to speak but you feel jungkooks reassuring hands, it's the same hand which pull the words out gently. so you tell him about your ex, tell him about how he used to like you, tell him what he said, how he tried to touch you.

tell him about your father. not everything because some memories your brain simply locked for your own safety.

and he listens, doesn't interrupt a single time, kissing your shoulders as you talk about your childhood. "you deserve to be loved," jungkook says, so sincerely, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the precious words sink into the sea of your heart, calm down the strom, fill you with inner warmth.

"i'm scared," you look down at your hands in the water, "i don't want to become him, i don't want to hurt you."

"you're not him and will never be," he says softly, as if he's stating a simple fact, "you're strong, kind and you care, so much more then anybody would"

there’s no hesitation in his gaze, no flicker of uncertainty — only a steady conviction that makes you want to believe him.

“you’ve been hurt, so much more than anyone should have to bear,” jungkook continues, his hands sliding down to hold yours under the water. “but that doesn’t mean you’re doomed to repeat the past. it doesn’t mean you’re destined to hurt anyone.”

his gaze wanders of to your intertwined hands shortly until he looks back at you, "you have the power to chose differently, to be better. and you already have chosen."

"and you deserve somebody who cares for you, loves you, cherishes you, i want to be that person for you."

you're still scared. the possibilties of you hurting somebody as precious as jungkook were deeply engraved into your mind but you ignore them, nodding slowly to brush them away. to be selfish for once. "i want to be that for you too"

jungkook smiles in response, wiping away the water droplets from your face, “let’s finish up so we can get you into bed, pretty.”

he helps you stand up, envelopes you in a towel, asks you if you can sit down for him so he can dry your hair. tenderly makes sure to not leave out a single wet strand until every bit of water was gone.

all that can be heard was the rain that was now a lot softer then it was a few hours ago, tapping against the window. you can smell jungkooks scent on the clothes he gave you earlier, you could feel his arms around you, the expensive sheets quality below.

he shifts slightly, his lips pressing little kisses over your jawline and cheeks, asking muffled, "what do you want?" as he continues his services, "i'll give you everything"

you think about it for a few seconds, "a kitten"

growing up, you couldn't afford to have a cat in your house due to the violence. there was no way that such a fragile little animal would've been safe in that enviornment. but you had always loved kittys.

he hums as you turn to look at his face, intertwining your hands together, "that's cute, we can name her cheonsa, you know what that means?"

you shake your head lightly, mouthing a 'what?'

"something that reminds me of you, i won't tell you"

the room is filled with comfortable silence for a few minutes while you listen to him breathe, "we should go back to milan, no business" “then we’ll go back to milan,” he whispers against your skin. “and we’ll come back home to a kitten. do you want that?”

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub

[whoskimii]

a lovely anon asked me if i could write about hiromi hubby making you ride his nose but i literally lost the req :(( i'm so sorry but!! i didn't forget so here you go baby <3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > hiromi x you. that man's kinda thirsty lmao :) nasty shii under! tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

your husband's nose was one of the many things you absolutely loved about him. for whatever reason, you just thought that it gave him personality.

sure, a cute little button nose or straight nose is always cute but a big nose ? oh. my.

hiromi loved making you ride his face, and most importantly his nose. he knew you loved it and the size of it made you see stars whenever it rubbed against your throbbing little clit.

and without mentioning that you were in your ovulation week. which made you ten times feral about his nose him.

you were riding his nose with such vigor that he couldn't comprehend properly. but fuck it, it wasn't the right time to think about anything else other than the way your sloppy juice ran down his chin. "'romi..." you breathed as your pretty manicured nails dug into the wood of the headboard.

he opened his heavy eyelids, staring up at your pretty face with unfocused, tired eyes. "mhm ?" the vibration made a shiver run down your spine. "feels so good, 'romi..." he chuckled lazily. "yeah ? feels good, mhm ?" your pretty hands left the headboard to grip his messy hair.

hiromi could barely breathe. his tongue was still teasing your hole and his lips were latched onto your pulsating clit. but he didn't care. he couldn't, actually.

he just couldn't bring himself to care. if he died underneath you, his head crushed by your thighs, he'd die a happy man.

he was so hard that it was almost painful. his growing erection was stuck under his pants and he hated it. he just wished that it'd be buried between your pretty legs by now. but no. he had to satisfy his little wife first thing first. as you whimpers got louder, he hummed. "yeah, i know... i'm going to take care of you, baby... promise. just wait like a good girl." he mumbled.

"'romi, i'm gonna cum..." you breathed. at your breathless words, he perked up. strangely, his tongue worked with renewed fervor. his hands grabbed your plushy thighs and locked them securely around his head as he fucked his tongue in and out of your quivering hole.

you gasped softly and rolled your hips, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. the surprise made you cum almost instantly. "'romi !" you moaned.

your eyes rolled back and your lips parted as your head tilted to the side lazily. he watched, still underneath you, not daring to stop for a second. his eyes closed at your sweet taste. "fuuuck..." he groaned. "taste so good, angel..." and your juice was one of the many things he loved about you.

it had such a sweet taste to it. it tasted like candy and he drank it so casually, almost as if it was just regular water. he could drown in it and he'd thank you.

as you finally came down from your high, you whined softly. you were so incredibly fucked out but your little pussy wanted more. it always wanted more than it could take. you got off him and pawed at his hardness. "can we do it again...?" you mumbled, blinking your pretty eyes at him almost innocently.

how could he decline such an appealing offer ?

i love him i love him i love himmMM <33 finally wrote for my manzz!! what doja said frfr.

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[luveline]

hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭

There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 

Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.

Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 

There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 

“Spencer?” 

He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 

“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 

“Hey. What are you doing here?” 

“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 

“Did you go home?” 

“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 

You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 

“You okay?” you ask gently. 

“When can I leave?” 

“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 

It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 

Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 

You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 

“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 

“Spence.” 

He looks up from under his lashes. 

Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 

He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 

“Thanks for staying,” he says. 

“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 

[yan-critter]

Yan!Childe x GN!Reader (Smut, Dubcon, Overstimulation, Stalking, No gendered terms but reader is receiving)

Childe, who is far too eager to finally be alone with you.

Cornered in some dingy backroom at the Northland Bank, his overzealous nature has him on you the moment the door closes.

☆－★－☆－★＋☆－★－☆－★＋☆－★－☆－★

His hands roaming, face immediately slotted into the junction of your neck as he huffs and pants. He groans at your scent, the warmth emanating from your skin. How pliant it is under his weight, practically welcoming him as the softness of your hips dents beneath his fingers.

He hopes you are equally receptive.

Before you can even figure out what's happening, how and when the harbingers' apparent infatuation with you began, he has you on the floor.

You yelp, the swiftness of the movement leaving you even more confused than before. It's all so sudden! I mean, you've hardly even spoken to the man, much less expressed romantic interest, and now he's straddling you in some random storage closet with a lustful look in his eyes that you don't need to look.. down, to confirm.

Childe, on the other hand, has been waiting for this moment for months. First encountering you on an outing with Zhongli, he developed a keen interest in the cute local hopping around the market. He spiraled quickly thereafter, following you home, taking souvenirs from your belongings, even getting you a job somewhere within his reach (unbeknownst to you, of course). His obsession consuming his mind until it was clouded with thoughts of only you.

Honestly, he would've preferred something more official. Taking you home and properly wining-and-dining you until you willingly bared your body to him, for him to worship like it deserved. But when the opportunity arose, Childe's waning resolve crumbled and he simply couldn't pass up this chance to have you.

Seeing you finally where you belong, so adorable beneath him, brings a sense of euphoria that leaves the man reeling.

But he's sure he can find a way to get that high again. For both of you.

You squeal as his hands start to fumble with your clothing, and he rumbles a low growl at the noise. Always so cute for him, making such pretty sounds when he hasn't even started yet. His hands make quick work of your button up and he wastes no time, lips quickly securing around your nipples as the rough pads of his fingers explore your skin.

You whine, the heat building in your belly as he slurps loudly. Childe doesn't seem particularly experienced, but his hungry demeanor makes up for it. He's messy, drooling all over your chest like he can't get enough, nibbling and kissing the skin. You can't help but flush at the idea that he needs you that badly, almost greedy in his actions.

You squirm at the thought.

Childe pulls back at your writhing, deciding he's given your chest sufficient attention, now shining with remnants of his spit and dappled with hickeys and bites marks alike. He admires it proudly for a moment, before moving to slide down your pants.

You only manage a meager "Wait I'm not-" before he has his lips on yours, shushing you with a kiss. He pulls your pants down to your knees, slipping his hand between your legs and rubbing you through your underwear as his tongue works into your mouth. You whimper at the sensation, overwhelmed by it all. You're still not sure what's happening, but you have to admit you've always found Childe attractive, even if his playful charm is a little lost on you when he's acting like a feral dog.

He takes the chance to slip your pants and underwear off while you're lost in thought. Pulled out of your stupor, you scramble to stop him, grabbing at his scarred arms. Childe, of course, is unphased and doesn't even bother shaking you off in favor of focusing on undressing you. It makes sense, he is a harbinger after all, he's bound to be strong. But you feel a little hurt that he didn't so much as budge, the stark difference in strength wounding your pride.

With your clothes out of the way, he pulls you into another long kiss and spreads your legs. Your throat itches with the urge to breathe, but Childe quickly grips your jaw to stop you, amusement dancing in his eyes as you go lightheaded. Your eyes roll back ever so slightly, lips locked together, and he can tell you won't last much longer.

He finally relents, planting a quick peck on your cheek before leaning back. You look so delicious like that, starry-eyed and panting, and while he would love nothing more than to kiss you dizzy, he thinks he'd love your noises more. Lithe fingers tease the rim of your entrance, and he bites his lip as the first finger dips into your heat. You shiver at the intrusion, and he groans.

"Mousy little thing, aren't you? Only a single finger and you're shaking.." he mutters, and for a second you think he's talking to you. As your breathing begins to steady, you look down to answer him and instead find him staring at your heat, fascinated by the sight of his finger entering you.

But Childe has never been a patient man, and before long he's pumping three large fingers in and out of your squelching heat, curling just right to make you mewl. He's observant, noting every little bump and ridge within you that has you melting into his touch, bucking into your thigh as he watches you. Your back arches like a bow and you can feel the tight coil in your belly ready to snap. So close so close so close so-

"Oh no sweet thing, not yet", he coos, and before you can reach your peak, Childe pulls his fingers out with a satisfied hum. A sharp whine leaves you at the man's cruelty, but your complaints are cut short with the sound of his belt clanking to the floor. Your eyes widen, suddenly pulled out of your haze because it's all becoming too real now.

...And yet, you can't deny the spike of arousal as his length finally comes into view.

A slight curve, big even in comparison to his large hands, and a peachy pink at the end leaking dewy white pearls. It only occurs to you then that he had yet to relieve himself at all, neediness building in him the entire time from neglecting to focus on anything but you. It's flattering, really, having someone want you so unabashedly. Realizing that maybe you like the attention, especially coming from someone as high-caliber as Childe, you decide to offer him a.. mercy, of sorts.

With the hesitant motion of your spreading legs, Childe's final restraint snaps.

Within an instant, he sinks himself into you in a single swift motion, tossing your legs over his arms. You choke out a moan, the overwhelming fullness inside you clouding your mind. He whimpers, the feeling of your pulsing walls and the joy of finally finally claiming you proves to be too much for him. Blushing and brows furrowed, he pouts at you.

"I'm sorry baby, I really am," Childe insists, and you cock your head in confusion. "I wanted to be gentle for our first, but I can't hold back any longer".

"I think I might break you, but you'll forgive me, right?"

Wait, what?

Before you know it, he's pummeling into your core like a man crazed, punching rhythmic little "ah, ah, ah's" out of you with every cant of his hips. His movements are nearly punishing, hard and fast and mean, leaving you breathless and only able to simply lay there and take it. It makes it that much easier for his girth to bully into you, practically spearing you open as your eyes flutter shut. You're brainless by this point, and his relentless thrusting has you quickly reaching your peak, much to his delight.

As you feel yourself tipping over the edge, Childe's mouth finds your nape, and he bites. Your eyes shoot open at the sensation, pain and pleasure shocking your system and amplifying your orgasm until it's practically forced out of you. He licks your wound, nursing you through it, and his hips slow as if to ease your fried nerves. But your moment of reprieve is short-lived and before you've even come down from your high all the way, he's back at it. Pounding into you, with a bruising grip on your waist as you hiccup pathetically beneath him.

So cute.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

It's nearly two hours later that Childe gives you a break, smug and satiated having made you come for the umpteenth time. A lovesick sigh leaves him as he traces the marks on your skin, content knowing that he had wrung you dry of everything you could give him.

Looking up at him through your damp lashes, you shiver.

A large grin plastered on his face, eyes wide and unblinking as he gazes at you with unrestrained giddy. You were his now, thoroughly claimed and his to adore. And as he reaches out and gathers you into his arms, Childe has only one thing on his mind.

"Let's go home ♡"

☆－★－☆－★＋☆－★－☆－★＋☆－★－☆－★

My first full length fic, let me know what you think! Might make a part two with Zhongli if you guys are interested :)

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You pt 3

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings - self doubt, slight manipulation, discussion of moving forward after the death of a spouse, hurt people hurting people, HOFAS spoilers *slightly* (a lot of us had this theory to begin with and I just played with it to fit this)

A/n - It can only be uphill from here, right?.. Special thank you to @honeybeefae and @thehighladywrites for helping me think through how quickly I should let reader and Rhys move on, and for convincing me that I should continue writing this. (Ps friends - sorry I can't tag you. I evidently hit the max tag amount with my taglists.)

✨️ Pieces of You Masterlist ✨️

The 3 month milestone had changed your and Morwenna's lives forever. Rhys had finally convinced you to move into one of his homes. He was insistently whispering to you over and over that the small cabin wasn't going to work anymore, that Cassian and Azriel barely fit inside it, that once his Little Mor and sweet Nyx began to move you four would need more space.

It had been also heartbreaking, entering the home Feyre had crafted, each room so individually thought of for who it was intended to belong to. Above all else, though, it had been lonely.

It wasn't your home. It wasn't the finely crafted wooden arches your mate had assembled by hand. It wasn't the rooms you had spent hours picking colors for. It wasn't cozy. That lack of security and warmth was why you were once again up at 3am. Despite the babies now sleeping for longer chunks of time, you never did. Regardless of if it was a night Rhysand spent at your side or one he spent tucked into the room he had shared with Feyre.

You leaned your head back against the exterior of the home, looking up at the glittering sky, and it finally happened.

3 months of mourning in silence. 3 months of screaming into your pillow. 3 months of stress, of anger, of overflowing love, 3 months of feeling like a shell of the female you were, of feeling as though your body was no longer yours, it crashed into you like a tidal wave. And it swept and destroyed everything in its path.

Rhysand shot awake in bed, feeling something was off. His chest ached, begging him to get up, to move, to search. He pulled on pants, glancing at Nyx and Morwenna sleeping peacefully, but you, once again, had not come to the room. He waited for the wraith to appear, feeling her just moments after he called. “Is it y/n,” Nuala nodded to the question, moving to admire the sleeping babes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. She is mourning. That is her right.”

Rhys sighed, moving to your room without hesitation. He had hoped getting you out of that house would help. He had hoped the luxury he could offer you would have helped. He knocked on the door, listening for the broken come in that followed. “Why haven't you come to bed?” You were taken back by the question, taken back by him holding that perfectly tanned hand out. “Come to bed. Let me hold you until those sorrows melt away for the night.”

He knew you didn't feel it. That soft string that had made him scream, made him question all he knew about love and life. Part of him hoped you never did. Part of him hoped he would never have to explain to his family how it had taken him a miniscule 3 month period to fall in love with you and for a Mother given mating bond to snap. Part of him hoped he would never have to experience losing you, to add you to his list of things he would bury too deeply to properly mourn.

“I was unsure if I was wanted there.” That hand reached for yours, clasping it. He was so warm. Always so warm. You could bask in his warmth like he was the sun if given the chance. You shook the feeling mentally, though. “It is-”

“Our room,” he finished softly. “It is our room. Where our children are sleeping. Come to bed.”

Morning came much too soon for Rhysand. It had come much too soon for you as well. You took both of the babes, laughing as they spoke to each other in a language only they knew. They had begun taking more interest in each other, in toys, in the world. They were making life the greatest adventure, even if a lingering pain came from both of you seeing them smile so brightly.

It happened at the worst possible time. You were holding Nyx, forearm under his little tummy and letting “fly” as he worked so very hard to stretch his growing wings. Rhysand was watching you from the doorway, Morwenna on his hip as she looked up at him. Her thoughts were jumbled baby speak, all so happy. Nyx's were elated and fast. When you looked to the doorway, your wide smile fell as that string finished itself and settled deep into your chest.

Rhysand had never watched someone's mental walls fall as quickly as yours did. The silence in the room almost made the giggles of the two unknowing parties fade to background noise. “I was shocked too, darling. It's okay.”

Rhysand had dinner without you that night. He flew to the House of Wind with Nyx to eat with the Inner Circle. He wanted to give you time. He remembered the moment Azriel and Nesta came home, questioning their bonds after exploring those damned caves with the Quinlan girl and learning how the Cauldron had been corrupted. He knew you needed to process. He had too after all.

He took his seat trying to ignore the one that sat empty next to him. Everynight a plate was still sitting there. Even when you came, that chair sat empty, plate untouched. It was a screaming sign that the Inner Circle had not moved in. That they may never move on.

“It just makes the two mates theory make more sense,” Cassian and Amren were deep in a debate again. “If the Daglan, asteri, whatever the fuck we want to call them, did something to the Cauldron to ensure the mating bonds were taken over by it's creation for breeding purposes, then the existence of a Mother Blessed Bond must also be there.”

Amren sighed, “So which do you two have then?” Nesta stiffened at the question. “A Mother Blessed Bond is meant to be true love. It's who we are technically meant to find as a soul mate. A Cauldron made Bond is evidently strictly for breeding. Which do you two share?”

The table hushed. It was a valid question and point. “To continue,” Amren took a drink from her glass before setting it down with a gentle click. “If we come out and tell other courts about this, how many other fae will begin to question their bonds? Kallias and Vivienne? Tamlin and Briar? Helion and Saraya? Lucien and Elain? How do we even begin to prove which bond is which? Does it mean they love that mate less? Rhysand would not have loved Feyre less regardless of the bond type. He will never remarry. Never move on.”

Azriel flicked his eyes to Rhysand. He knew about the bond Rhysand shared with you. He had given Rhysand his blessing to move on and pursue. He had asked his brother to find happiness again. He watched the words land on Rhysand's features, watched his eyes dull.

“If Rhysand did find a new mate,” Azriel spoke softly. “We would all support him moving forward with the bond.”

Nesta scoffed from next to Cassian. “Imagine being that poor female. Living in the shoes of Feyre Cursebreaker. No one could compare.”

But you did, didn't you? Rhysand's grip on his thigh tightened before relaxing. You were just as special, as kind, as loving. You were beautiful. Gods knew you were absolutely beautiful. You were selfless.

“I wouldn't want to try to sit in her place. I would reject the bond,” Mor sipped her wine, leaned back with one arm across her stomach.

Cassian and Azriel both looked to where Rhysand was dead silent. “I need to take Nyx home. He's getting hungry. I'll be right back.”

When Rhysand came back to the House of Wind without his son, he had no intentions of coming back to you that night. So, he never did.

3 awkward weeks passed between you and Rhysand. 3 absolutely strange weeks of either heated kisses and touches or nothing. Not even a good morning. You sighed as you laid Morwenna and Nyx down in the nursery before taking the few strides to Rhysand's office.

He was avoiding you, and it hurt. It hurt knowing your mate, this beautiful unasked for second chance was avoiding you. He was hunched over his desk, reading over some papers and signing a few. “Are we going to talk about why you are avoiding me?”

“I am not avoiding you. I am busy.”

“Yes, busy avoiding me.” You sat across from him, feeling so cold and informal. It was as if you were nothing more than his employee. “Our children are asleep. We should talk about this while we can. I deserve to know if I did something wrong.”

He didn't even look up at you as he replied. “You didn't do anything wrong. As I said, I am busy.” This wasn't the voice of the male who coaxed you to sleep. The one who whispered his dreams to you. “You can go.”

The dismissal made the bond go taunt, and when he felt the first wave of your confusion and hurt, he locked it down more. “Rhys-”

“I think we should sleep in separate rooms again. Our relationship has crossed some lines.”

You blinked at him. Stunned and almost dead silent. “I don't understand where this is coming from?”

“It's the truth. I am your High Lord. You are my subject.” It killed him to say it. His own heart was screaming to stop, but that first brick wall now stood, waiting for the other 3 sides. “We cannot continue blurring that line.”

“You're my mate,” your broken whisper almost made him stop, but he dug in.

“Something we will need to discuss at a later date and time. Surely there will be away for us to reject the bond without causing a downfall and hurting your ability to nanny Nyx.” A second wall stood in place of you and his heart. He knew it was a low blow, and he watched your brows knit and mouth slightly open.

“Rhysand.”

“High Lord,” he corrected.

“Why are you doing this?”

“The bedroom you were in previously is fine.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I am establishing a boundary, y/n.” He watched as you began to cry, holding in his own tears as he did. “Our relationship needs to remain appropriate.”

"Do you not want me? We are blessed with this second chance, and you are just turning your back on it. Please, is it me? I know I am not the beauty she was, I know I am not as special as she was. But I'd fight to make you happy, for our children-”

"Nyx isn't yours. Stop acting like he is.”

He watched as you crumbled inside of yourself, that last wall forming around his heart by destroying yours. He didn't mean a single word, but how else was he supposed to save you? All the Mother had ever done to Rhysand was take and take.

You recovered from the blow quickly, nodding as you aggressively wiped the tears from your face. "You have the weekend to find someone else to do what I am. Wen and I are leaving.”

"You can't just take her from me.”

"Yes I can," he knew what was coming, that new bond screaming for him to stop this all. "You aren't her father. Stop acting like it.”

You wanted to slam the door as you walked away before his act fell, before he gripped his chest and warded the room to sob. Little Mor had quickly become his everything. That dark hair, that button nose, those deep blue eyes. She looked like his sister, but you didn't know that when you threatened to take her away. Hadn't known why all three winged males so quickly became attached to her.

And now he was losing her. He was losing you. He was losing everything.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Pieces of You Taglist:

@dr4g0ngirl @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @novalovi @rachelnicolee @sleepylunarwolf @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @bunnyredgirl @fandomrejects @bookishbroadwaybish @littlestw01f @la-petite-lapin @juniperberriesaries @anuttellaa @luvmoo @mirandasidefics @soph1644 @hungryforbatboys @awkardnerd @bruxa0007 @eerievixen @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @ghostlyrose2 @amygdtjhddzvb @marvelouslovely-barnes @batii-skies @emma-andrea1 @buckystevelove @slut4acotar @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @throneofshadows @sevikas-whore @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @why4anne @miadialila @12358 @blushingfawnsposts

✨️If you are not tagged but your name is listed, Tumblr will not allow me to tag you for some reason!✨️

[thewritetofreespeech]

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: your husband leaves for a hunting trip, but before he leaves he provides you with a gift to keep your fealty secure.

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), chastity belt [fictional c. belt usage, don't come for me], oral (female receiving), cowgirl, aemond is a meanie to his wife, but also a sweetie, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

The bells seemed to have not stopped ringing for days now.

First, to herald the new prince, Maelor, into the world. Then to call his father home.

Aegon had overheard of the Baratheon tradition of going hunting before the birth of a child. Claiming a new stag and presenting the pelt to the mother, which he thought was a splendid tradition. The hunting, not the presents for the mother; although any excuse to get out of the castle was Aegon’s ultimate goal. He assembled some of the finest hunters he could find, or at least on such short notice, and sped off into some forest while his wife labored through the end of her pregnancy and had her toil finally ended in the wee hours of the morning.

You were happy for Helaena. To have her child here & health and her agony ended. But also, selfishly, that your own agony might be ended too.

Your husband had gone with hers. Aegon insisted that family should be involved in this new process he was creating, and made his brother come with him for the hunt. Aemond did not fight him too hard. He too would look for any excuse to leave the castle, particularly when his half-sister & her family were around, and enjoyed hunting like any man of arms might when the opportunity struck.

However, before the princes left your husband presented you with a gift that had turned your ill-planned parting into a tortuous affair.

“I still don’t see why any of this is necessary.”

Aemond paid you little mind as he fastened the last strap and locked it. Admiring his work as he sat back on his heels. “I feel that my fidelity is being called into question.”

“It is not your fidelity, dearest one.” He told you. Standing to his full height above you as he slipped the key into his pocket. “A beautiful woman, alone, for some days’ time without her husband. I am protecting you from those less virtuous than you.”

You frown and drop your skirts. “Oh please.” As if anyone would dare touch you, or even glance in your direction too long, with Aemond the Fierce as your husband. Even before your marriage he had managed to scare off any suitor or admirer that came near. Deciding that you would be his and he would not have competition on the matter. His jealousy had not gotten any better since you were married, but luckily you found it endearing; in an odd, Targaryen ‘take no prisoner’ kind of a way. “I will be with your sister most of the time anyway whilst you are gone. Unless you think her a threat now?”

Aemond smirked. “I don’t know. Helaena does have a weakness for the oddest, cutest things.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, which you return despite your sulking pout.

“How am I to relieve myself with this thing?”

“There is a small hole.”

“Charming.”

“The point is that you, nor anyone else, can relieve you.” His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Not until I get back.”

You frown at Aemond again. Once again feeling your fidelity was being called into question, but now also your virtue. “Please. You think I am some nymph unable to curb my baser instincts while my husband is away? That the moment you leave I’ll just start humping the couches like a dog.” The prince scoffed. Amused by your joke. “I will be fine Aemond. I am sure I can last a week without ‘relief’ as you put it.”

“See that you do.” He gave you another kiss. Longer this time and you kiss him back properly, without the pout, as you realize this was your goodbye kiss. “Tell Helaena to push out that babe sooner rather than later. I’d hate to have to miss you by the time it’s all said and done.”

That had been a tenday ago, and you had been eating your words since the sixth.

At first, it was fine. You were indeed busy tending to Helaena. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her entertained. You had not yet known the joy of being with child, but from where you were sitting across from her it seemed not to bring the joy often described. Your situation did not get problematic until night fall.

Alone in your bed, you had trouble falling asleep that first night without Aemond beside you. His gentle breathing not at your back. Had your bed always been this big? The second night sleep came a little easier, though you still missed your husband. By the third night, you really missed him. You suddenly realized that since your marriage not more than three days had gone by without Aemond sliding to your side of the bed to lay with you. He was not the braggart like his brother or other more crude lords at court, but he was quite the vivacious lover; when properly motivated by affection and praise.

Now alone, you were suddenly aware of your body and how much it had changed since being with Aemond. How, in a way, he had conditioned you for him. Before it would have been no problem for you to go without such pleasures, but now you seem unable to make it not 3 days without touch. Coupled with the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it with the damned belt on you were all the more frustrated in your situation and desired nothing more than for Aemond to come home.

You watched as the gates opened and Aegon’s party rode in. The horses galloping to a halt before the procession stage. No dragons this time. Aegon said it would take the sport out of.

The newly anointed father leapt from his horse and bounded up the steps of the small stage to Helaena. His eyes & smile bright as he looked on his newest son, Aegon took Maelor from her arms gently to hold him for the first time. It was all rather endearing.

Your attention turned from the happy scene to the steps again as they creak under foot. Aemond’s tall, lean frame now in full view. You find it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. As if your chastity belt was suddenly wrapped all the way around you like a corset. You grip the arms of your chair tight to stay strong and stay still. Aware that you were still in public and in front of your family after all.

“Look brother! Look at my new son!” The second prince walked over to his brother to look upon their newest addition. Giving his new nephew the smallest hint of a smile as he looked down at him. Your core quaked violently.

“Congratulations brother. Well done, Helaena.” The princess smiled shyly at her brother, and their mother seemed pleased for once at this happy moment.

Aemond snapped and made some sort of gesture at a servant, who scurried up the steps and handed him some ivory pelts from a chest that Aemond then gave to Helaena. Foxes, perhaps. Or maybe rabbits. You couldn’t be sure which as your sister-in-law gushed over their softness and color while you smiled & nodded along. Your mind completely focused on Aemond. He was so close now. You could practically smell him. The iron. The leather. The sweat & sun from riding back this afternoon. You have to swallow to keep the drool pooling in your mouth from leaking out. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of this…thing!

“If you’ll excuse me, I must wash the road off and rest in a proper bed if I am expected to entertain later.” Aemond’s voice cut through your thoughts. As if he heard you.

“You do not wish to stay and see the babe?” Aegon asked. Holding his new son up with a look of ‘what could be better than this?’. You could think of a few things, but as a lady you held your tongue.

“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” Aemond jest. To which his mother rolled her eyes and he kissed Helaena on the cheek. “I will see him at the feast, I’m sure.” He turned and finally looked at you. You felt your heart stop and your skirts grow moist before he offered his hand to you. “Come wife.”

You take his hand, digits trembling almost as much as that first time you took it, and stand. You kiss Helaena’s cheek on the other side, wishing her congratulations again, before Aemond lead you off the stage and into the palace. Luckily, by fate or design, the procession meeting ground was near your apartments. So it was a quick walk before you were at your door. They open for you, and Aemond only let out a stern “get out” to the servants, who only have mere seconds to flurry away before you were on each other. Your lips crashing against Aemond’s along with the rest of your body as you back him into a corner against the door like you felt you had been backed into all week.

“Get this fucking thing off me.”

“My, my, such language.” Aemond was grinning maliciously, but pridefully, down at you. “I leave for just a week and my sweet wife’s lips turn into that of a Braavosi sailor.” You gasp, nearly pant, as Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. Seeming fascinated by them. As if they were some intricate puzzle for him. “Did you miss me, issa jorrāelagon?”

You whimper as the High Valyrian rolls off Aemond’s tongue. Your thighs shivering as at the thought of it and those delicious purrs between them again. “Yes. I did.”

He seemed pleased. “I missed you too.” He kissed you again. Slower, sweeter, deeper this time, rather than tongue & teeth. It was a good thing Aemond’s arms were securely wrapped around you as his kiss made you swoon. “I would think of you every night.” His lips brush against your lips, your cheek, your chin. His hands caressing you softly everywhere as you stared dimly up at Aemond. Drunk from him. “While Aegon and his pack rutted with their camp followers, I would go to my tent and think of you. Stroke my cock along with your key around my neck, think of you waiting for me, until I could no longer take it anymore.”

You whimper & whine at Aemond’s words. A part of you elated to have that effect on your husband, but part of you also extremely jealous. You had been forced to wait while he had not. That seemed entirely unfair and should be corrected immediately.

“Aemond…please. I’m tired of waiting. Please take this off me so I can be your wife again.”

Your prince smiled at you. Pressing you back now as you kiss this time towards the bed. You had intentionally worn the simplest dress you had to the arrival. Beautiful in design and beadwork, but nowhere near the detailing of lacings and ties most of court lady fashion had. All with the intention of Aemond being able to get it off you quickly, which he succeeded at, and lay you on the bed. “Hells. You look radiant.”

“Aemond please…” You beg again. Bosom heaving. Your skin on fire at even the briefest touch of his fingertips against your calf. Tingling in your nakedness in front of him, save for this accursed belt.

He took pity on you it seemed and opened his vest with a few quick snaps. Producing the key from around his neck. He still kept it there, it seemed. Aemond gave you a long look, as if holding on to this final, torturing moment with some perverse pleasure at your suffering, before he undid the lock and helped you out of your ties.

You moan, loudly, with your head tilted back as it finally came off. Release from the belt was almost as pleasurable as the full release you were surely about to receive. Your skin able to breathe fully. Your limbs one with themselves again. It was enough to make your head spin, only to be brought back to you when you felt Aemond spread your thighs and kneel before you.

“A-Aemond! Wait! I haven’t washed properly in---mph!” He doesn’t seem to care.

Though you had bathed regularly since your parting, the belt made it difficult to clean yourself fully. Trust in this, you had tried. Every angle. Every side. Every idea imaginable to get around this accursed thing, but to no avail. Aemond seemed unbothered by this as he devoured your cunt like a starved man. That skilled Valyrian silver teasing your clit. Making you squirm on the bed, to the point that Aemond had to hold your thighs apart to the point of bruises. Gods, you hoped for bruises. The shift from no attention to this sudden onslaught was enough to drive you to madness. Overstimulated, you cum quickly with a sharp cry. “Oh Gods…..!”

Aemond doesn’t leave you until your walls stop quaking around him, then he lifted slowly from between your legs. “Still sweet as ever, issa jorrāelagon.”

The prince stripped out of his clothes with a speed you did not think possible of their usually intricate clothing. You bit your lip. Core throbbing even though you had just climaxed at the sight of your husband. Lean form. Alabaster skin. Pure white save for the hard, blushing cock pointed out at you. “Aemond…”

He chuckled. Probably finding your lust blown eyes and subconscious spreading of your legs for him amusing. “So needy.” He was enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with his fine figure and devilish smirk. People often whispered about how cruel Aemond was. You never believed them. But perhaps you would have to amend your thinking on the topic as it was cruel to have him on offer now and still make you wait.

He crawled on to the bed and on top of you. Your lungs filling with air and releasing in a sigh as you feel his weight on top of you. How you had missed even this part. To be close to your prince. To have his presence mix with yours. Not just the sex, but the intimacy was something Aemond had trained your body to as well. You hope to never be parted from it again.

“I’m rather tired from the journey.” He whispered to you. Panick welling up in you as he stroked your hair & cheek sweetly. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? You would punch him in that beautiful face if he stopped now! No a judicator in the land would convict you. “So, you will have to do all the work this time, sweet one.”

He gripped your hips then and flipped you over. You yip at the sudden change in equilibrium, but then moan as you felt his hardness brush against your sex. The length of it perfectly aligned to slide between your folds. By fate or design you could not be sure, but what you were sure of was that you needed it inside you.

“Take from me what you want, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see your rapture now that I am home. You deserve it.”

You whine at Aemond’s words and kiss him desperately. As a thank you? Just the burning need to touch him?

You lift up and line his cock up properly with your entrance. The wetness from your sex and anticipation allowing him to slide in easily, and you moan like a whore at the feeling of him inside you again. “You have to move, issa jorrāelagon.” Aemond reminded you. His tone sweet and teasing. This spell he had on you working over your mind as you are unable to think, just obey, and start to move your hips.

Aemond watched you from below. His eye and sapphire fixed solely on you as you writhed in pleasure on top of him. Every bit the nymph you claimed not to be just a short while ago as your body and mind were lost to you in the sole pursuit of pleasure.

“Aemond..! Aemond…! So good!”

“I know, my love.” He must be close. The grit of his teeth, and the fact that he used your nickname in common instead of High Valyrian, his tell. “I’m close. Just a bit more.” You weren’t sure if you could last that long as you were suddenly bursting all around. Body shaking. Gasping for air. Luckily, it seemed just enough for Aemond and his hips arched up to push deeper inside you as he spilled his seed.

You collapse on top of your husband. Sweaty, wanton, spent. Aemond, for his part, seemed to catch his breath rather quickly and flipped you back over. “What are you doing?”

“Truly you did not think that would be the only time I had you.” You cry out when Aemond thrust his still hard cock into your sensitive sex. “We have near a week to make up for.”

It was much later in the afternoon by the time Aemond felt he had properly ‘balanced the scales’. Your body was exhausted, but content. Laying with your husband in the afterglow, and your ruined bed, a tonic for your soul you didn’t know you needed. “I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” You tease your prince, who smiled and untangled himself from you to go over to a chest you hadn’t realized was in the room. You recognize it though as the chest the servant had brought to Aemond at his command when he presented the pelts to his sister.

“I caught this one when I was out on my own. Aegon & his troupe were off to the east with their wine and crossbows. I went west, as no quarry would come with their revelry. Seemed only fitting that since I found it on my own, my wife should have it.”

It was a pelt of pure onyx. Soft, but not nearly as soft as what Helaena had gotten earlier. This was the pelt of a beast, not prey. “Aemond, it’s beautiful.” Your fingers sift through the fine hairs. Feeling the power of its former master almost transfer into your fingers. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it. Perhaps I shall have to find you a new one, in nine months.” You glance over at Aemond out of the corner of your eye. Quick to understand his meaning. Quick to realize that Aemond wants his own son now that he’s seen Aegon with his second.

“Perhaps.” Time would only tell. You move your beautiful new fur to the side and crawl into Aemond’s waiting lap. “But if you leave me here for a week while I suffer alone, I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

Aemond laughed in the face of his own danger. “No. I would never leave you. This tryst was amusing, but I will be damned before I follow a Baratheon’s tradition before our own.” He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Our kin will have dragon eggs in their beds, not pelts.”

“Good.” You agreed and kissed him fully.

You make love again. Slowly, intimately this time. The kind of joining you both hope brings children. You would have to bathe and get dressed for the welcoming feast later that evening. Aegon’s welcome home and Maelor’s official presentation, along with all the spoils the men had caught on their hunt. But for now, it would just be you and Aemond. Enjoying each other and being back in one another’s arms.

Your last present though mysteriously vanishes. You have no idea where the belt went to, or what was done with it. Aemond had no answers. But you have a sinking suspicion it was moved somewhere for safe keeping; lest you find it and burn it, as was your threat long after.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 14)

 Masterpost

“Do you want to go back to the manor, or do you want to go somewhere else?” Jason asked Danny after a few quiet minutes driving. 

“Can we go out of Gotham? Somewhere quiet,” Jason hummed and nodded before switching the com on. “Hey Bruce, will you kill me if I take Danny camping for tonight?” He asked, he knew Danny loved the stars, being away from Gotham’s pollution for a night and getting to properly see the stars would probably help. 

There was a pause and then Bruce’s soft response. “No, I know you’ll take care of him, Jaylad. Will you stop by the manor so Alfred can make sure you have everything you need?”

“Ya I’ll do that, will you call him to make sure he has stuff ready for us? Probably a car too since I don’t think I can fit a tent and provisions on the back of my bike,” Jason chuckled. 

“Don’t you worry Master Jason, we have a motorcycle trailer I shall pack for you,” Alfred said over the coms.

Jason had forgotten that Alfred was on the coms as Agent A. “Thanks A,” Jason said and then turned off the radio again. “Does that sound good Danny? We’ll probably have to wait a bit for Alfred to pack up some food for us and stuff but getting out of Gotham overnight, being able to see the sky…?”

“Ya, ya Jason that sounds perfect. Thank you,” Danny said, squeezing Jason gently and snuggled against his back.

They pulled up outside the manor and Jason kicked down his bike stand so they could both get off. “Do you want to go in and pack some clothes or stay out here?” Jason asked as he got off and leaned against his bike still.

“I don’t want to go in,” Danny said quickly. Jason knew the feeling, where being surrounded by walls felt like a trap. 

“Alright, do you mind Alfie grabbing some clothes for you then?” He asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” Danny assured. “I’m looking forward to getting away from people. I’m glad not to have to be a hero anymore honestly, but I haven’t used my ghost form in a couple weeks and I want to Fly,” He said. “Nothing clears my head like flying as fast as I can.”

“Ya I can imagine. Bruce should introduce you to some of the supers, it would be good for you to spar with someone you can go all out with,” Jason said crossing his arms, not missing the way Danny’s eyes lingered on his biceps, smirking a little at Danny’s moment of distraction.

“Ya, it would probably be good for me to get some training with my powers too. Mom taught both me and Jazz martial arts when we were kids, before things got bad, but that was a while ago and before I got my powers.” Danny said a little vaguely. 

Jason nodded and was about to respond when he heard a soft motor, looking up to see Alfred driving a cart over to them, towing a small trailer towards them that no doubt had everything they needed for their camping trip. Maybe even enough from a weekend away in case Danny needed more time. 

“I’m sure you have a relatively secure location in mind, Master Jason?” Alfred asked once he came to a halt.

“Ya I do, Gonna get as far away from civilization as I can within a day’s drive,” He told Alfred who gave a thin smile and nodded.

“Very good, be safe you too,” Alfred said, stepping back again.

“We will, thank you Alfred,” Danny said with a little smile, going to stand by the bike, letting Jason get on first again before sitting down behind him again and hugged him.

“Ya, don’t worry about us,” Jason assured as he put his helmet back on and kicked off, speeding back out of the manor drive before anyone else got home. They were probably dawdling to give Jason and Danny time to get out again, he appreciated it, he didn’t think Dick in particular would be able to stop himself from questioning Danny. Even though he would only have the best intentions and all that but now wasn’t the time.

It was a decently long drive to the nearest national park, where Jason went off-roading and in the back. He would make a donation later, he just didn’t want anyone to be able to track that this was where they were. Taking Danny this far away from Gotham and the other Bats was already a bit of a risk with Vlad still at large but Jason had the specter-deflector and blaster Danny gave him with them and he hadn’t told anyone where they were going, they’d be fine. He was good at off-roading and judging from the giggling from Danny he was enjoying the off-road motorbike ride. 

When they were far enough away from the road no one was likely to see them there was a bright flash behind Jason and the weight of his bike shifted. He almost panicked Danny had fallen off before he caught movement to his side and glanced over to see Danny, now with white hair and green eyes, grinning at him impishly and racing along at his side flying fast.

“Race you!” Danny said, his voice had an odd echoing chime to it in this form but it was still recognizably his. There was plausible deniability about his identity though, sure as hell more than there was for superman but maybe they should still find him a mask.

“You’re on! But no just going through the trees! If I have to dodge, so do you!” Jason laughed.

“You got it!” Danny cheered.

Jason knew he was going to lose, but it was good to see Danny smiling, pinging between trees like a fucking ping-pong ball with pent up energy from not having used his powers at all for more then a week. Working out all the nerves and jitters as Jason raced along behind him trying to keep up.

Jason thought it was probably an hour of flying/driving before they came to a bank of a lake, he had to turn his bike sideways and skid to not slip into the water as Danny laughed at him. 

“This seems like a good place to set up camp huh?” Danny said, his feet finally touching the ground again. Another bright flash made Jason blink and Danny was his black haired, blue eyes self again. “Do you think Alfred packed us swim suits?” 

-------

They unpacked everything Alfred had sent them, set up the tent far enough back from the lake they couldn’t be seen across it, and laughed about the amount of food he’d sent them. It was enough to feed an entire team for a week! Still it was good food, and Danny was particularly excited about a chicken soup he’d sent in a metal container that could be heated up over a fire. 

Once they were unpacked Jason went to grab firewood, leaving Danny alone in the camp to take his binder off and change his shirt since that one still had jelly on it from the ultrasound. By the time he came back Danny had changed into a hoodie so his chest was barely visible, only when Danny absently rubbed it. When Danny caught Jason staring he gave the other man a shy smile and darted over to steal a kiss, taking half the wood to help Jason carry it to the fire-pit. 

Jason set about making a fire while Danny went back to the lake, wading in the shallows since they didn’t have their swimsuits. It was too cool out for an ordinary human to swim anyway, though Danny would probably be fine.

Jason glanced over now and then, watching Danny’s figure as he strolled along the shore, pants rolled up and ankles swishing through the green water without a sound. He piled kindling and lit it easily, stoking the fire and adding bigger logs, sitting back and waiting for some coals to develop while he set up their little camping grill. Once he could pull out some coals he did, put the grill over them and set the food on that to heat. 

When the food started to smell good Danny came wandering back over and sat down cross legged next to Jason, leaning against his shoulder. “Alfred’s the best cook in the family,” Jason said as he stirred the food, the soup which was just for Danny, and a chili and rice. “But I’m a pretty damn good cook too, if I do say so myself, you should come over to my place for dinner some time. I’d like to cook for you,” He admitted, it was always a way he showed affection.

“I’d like that,” Danny said, his eyes fixed on the fire and a small smile on his lips. His presence at Jason’s side was comforting and cool. He still seemed like he was a little bit out of it, bouncing back and forth between energy and lethargy, denial and grief probably. Jason had resolved not to say anything until after food, things tended to seem less dire with a stomach full of good food.

Once the food was steaming he used his gloves to pull the grill off the fire, nudging Danny to shuffle away so he could put it down between them. With the spoons he’d used to stir still in them. 

“Do you want to share?” Danny asked, trying to hide his reluctance, which was sweet.

“If you want to, but if not the soup is all yours,” Jason assured.

“Thanks. I guess I am eating for three now,” Danny chuckled a little bitterly before he grabbed the spoon and started to eat, blowing carefully on each bite so it wouldn’t be too hot. 

They ate in silence, Danny quickly finished off all the soup, which would have been enough for two people but Danny ate a lot. He’d need to eat more before bed no doubt. Alfred had still packed them why too much food but maybe there was a method to his madness anyway. Jason finished most of the Chili and then pushed the rest towards Danny who gave him a sheepish smile but finished that off too. 

Jason moved the grill out from between them and Danny scooted closer to Jason again. When he lifted his arm Danny ducked under it so Jason could drape his arm over Danny’s shoulders, keeping the shorter man tucked against his side. “So, do you feel up to talking now?” Jason asked softly and Danny sighed, turning his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment. 

“Ya,” He muttered resignedly when he came out of hiding. “It’s not really the babies this time. I mean ya I was still sort of in denial about actually being pregnant and seeing it made it real so that was a lot, but I had already mostly processed it. I want the babies, we’ll set up a nursery at the manor, I’ll have support, hell Bruce would probably even hire a nanny if we need. I’ll be able to finish school, it’s just…” He trailed off for a moment.

“You know, when I was born my dad was a little disappointed, they loved me but they’d wanted a daughter and a son. When I was assigned female at birth and they didn’t want any more kids, he was a little disappointed. When I came out as trans they were So Excited. My dad kept talking about how he knew I’d taken after him! I was going to be a ‘big man’ after all. He couldn’t seem to understand that even though I was a man it hadn’t changed my biology. They were so supportive, my mom Screamed at a teacher who made me cry misgendering me, got them fired. 

“They weren’t always bad parents, there were always good days. Ya they’d retreat into their lab for days at a time and we’d have to fend for ourselves, they left guns and chemicals all over the place. I Know they weren’t good parents, but they still loved us, and I loved them. And despite everything half of me really wants them to know their grandkids, wanted my mom to be there holding his hands and have my dad come bursting through the wall because he’s so excited to be a grandpa,” Danny sniffled a little. 

“I’ll be a better parent then they were by miles, but it’s sort of scary to know that love isn’t always enough. People who love you… still hurt you. It’s not fair that the good parts are all tangled up in the bad parts, and the bad parts are to bad to let anywhere near me or the babies, especially with the whole, half ghost thing.” 

“Ya, it’s not,” Jason sighed, biting his lip for a moment before clearing his throat. “Before Bruce took me in, before I was an orphan, my mom was an addict. Dad was in prison, it was just the two of us. On her good days she taught me to cook, she sang me lullabies, taught me Spanish.” He trailed off and sighed. “On her bad days she was too high to move, or unconscious. She’s be that way for days until the drugs ran out, I’d make sure she ate, try and keep the place clean, hell I had to help her go to the washroom. And I did it, because I was holding on to that last good day, and hoping for the next one. Even when the good days came less and less often near the end.

“Kids love their parents, even when they don’t deserve it. When the parent loves them too a kid can forgive just about any failing and dismiss all the hurt the parents cause because ‘people who love you wouldn’t hurt you’. Truth is the people who love you can often hurt you the worst, because you let them into your head, and rationalize everything they do. So if they hurt you, that must be what love feels like.”

“What do you think love feels like?” Danny asked, voice soft and vulnerable. 

“Well, for me I guess I learned what love really felt like when I moved in with Bruce,” though he was loathed to admit it. “When he’d carry me up to bed even though he knew I was only pretending to be asleep, he’d go slow so he could hold me a bit longer because he knew that’s what I really wanted. When he stayed home from patrol with me because I was sick and I wanted comfort, or remembered where my favourite gargoyle was so he could come find me when I was upset. And Alfred, teaching me to cook his family recipes and making me tea when I woke up in the middle of the night with nightmares, never seeming put out he was losing sleep.

“Love is… warm, and forgiving, willing to give you what you need without resenting it. Of course Bruce wasn’t perfect, stubborn, moralistic, self important bastard.” Danny let out an amused snort as Jason continued. “But… I know he did his best, and he never abandoned me. Even when I was dying I knew he was on his way, it sucked that he didn’t get there in time, but I never believed he abandoned me because I knew he never would.”

“I guess that’s Jazz for me. She’s only two years older than me, but she was always there, she showed me how to do just about everything. I thought it was annoying that she was always after me about doing my homework and stuff, but it means she really cared. Not just when she remembered to, or didn’t have anything better to do. 

“I guess I’m a little scared of that too. Now that I have a safe home, and she’s 18, she’s going to go to university and make new friends. She knows I’m safe now, so what if she doesn’t… care as much anymore?” Danny asked.

“That’s not going to happen,” Jason said immediately. “She might be around a bit less, but she won’t care any less. That’s what siblings are like. I should know, I have enough of them,” he joked and Danny gave a wet laugh. 

“Ya, she deserves to have her own life anyway,” Danny said, but he seemed calmer. They sat in a comfortable silence, watching the sunset across the lake, it was beautiful.

“Sooo, how do you think you want to decorate the nursery?” Jason asked and saw Danny smile.

“I’ll tell you in a minute, now that it’s dark there’s one more thing I have to do to feel better,” He said sardonically, ducking out from under Jason’s arm and standing. “Cover your ears,” he directed as he walked over to the lake.

Jason was confused, but he did as Danny asked as the other transformed into his ghost form. At the edge of the lake he took a deep breath and Wailed, the water exploded up around him forced back by the sound. Jason clamped his hands over his ears more firmly as the sound ricocheted around his skull, it was such a pure rage, fear, and sorrow he could Feel it bubbling in him as well, like it was more feeling than sound. Jason didn’t know how long it was before Danny stopped, collapsing to his knees and changing back into human form, breathing hard. 

Hesitantly Jason uncovered his ears and after a moment Danny took a deep breath and came back over to him, collapsing next to him by the fire. “Okay for the nursery I was thinking of a celestial theme.” 

They talked for a long time about what Danny wanted for the nursery at the manor. When Jason worked up the courage to suggest if they were still going strong in a few months they should set up a second nursery in his apartment. So Danny could come visit with the babies more easily once they were born, they moved on to plans for that hypothetical. They decided on a forest theme for that one, Jason was looking forward to it. He loved kids, and ya he and Danny were new but he had a really good feeling about this.

Next