#and they all look like they have 3/4 sleeves lmao

[smute]

i say this all the time but plus size clothing for men is so fucking depressing!!!!!!! WHERE IS THE COLOR?? WHERE ARE THE PATTERNS???? and im not even talking about like. 3 piece suits and business wear which is obviously more conservative by definition. but its everything. everything looks like urban camouflage including casual wear active wear even stuff that's intended to be fashionable or exciting or DARING or whatever only comes in acceptably masculine colors. you're allowed to dress a LITTLE more daringly BUT ONLY IN NAVY AND DARK GREEN lol go be invisible fatties!!!!!! <333 and every damn day i see womens clothes that fuck so unbelievably hard if i could i would never step foot in a men's department ever again

[anniebeemine]

requests? say no more.

ok this is a little angsty so only if you're comfortable but maybe s2 spencer and reader have been dating for 3-4 months when the whole tobias thing happens. spencer starts pushing away reader and wont tell her anything. bc this is a new relationship she is very confused and insecure and confronts him asking if he wants to break up and he doesn't know bc on one hand he cares about her but on the other hand he is embarrassed and doesnt want her to deal with this so new in a relationship. happy ending PLEASE (for my soul)

as you can tell i have thought about this A LOT lmao

my heart hurts... (i haven't seen this arc in a while so I hope this is accurate enough)

warnings: discussions of addiction, happy-ish ending. I left it open ended but positive

You and Spencer had only been dating for a few months when everything started to unravel. At first, it had been perfect—those sweet, awkward moments when he was still trying to figure out how to be in a relationship, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, the late-night talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning. But after a week away, everything changed.

You weren’t exactly sure what had happened. You didn't want to press, but his friends had warned you that it was bad. All you knew for sure was that Spencer had come back different. The spark in his eyes was dulled, and he barely looked at you anymore. There was no explanation, no details of the trauma he'd endured, just this cold distance that settled between you. You’d sit on the couch together, but it felt like you were miles apart. He was always tugging at his sleeve, fidgeting, avoiding eye contact. His hands used to brush against yours absentmindedly, and now they stayed firmly in his lap, clenched into fists.

He didn’t stay long during those visits either—every time he showed up, it felt like he was itching to leave. You’d ask him to stay for dinner or suggest going for a walk, and he’d make some excuse, slipping away before you could even finish your sentence. You tried to give him space, hoping it was just a phase, but the more space you gave him, the more it felt like he was pulling away entirely.

Eventually, the visits became shorter and shorter until they stopped happening altogether. Weeks went by without hearing from him, and your calls went straight to voicemail. You didn’t know how to navigate it. You knew Spencer had been through something terrible, but he wouldn’t let you in. And it hurt. It hurt in ways you hadn’t expected. You weren’t just confused—you were insecure. Was it you? Was it something you did? Did he want to break up?

The questions swirled in your mind until you couldn’t take it anymore. One night, you couldn’t sleep, your thoughts running wild. You sat there in the dark, staring at your phone, your heart aching. You missed him. You missed his voice, his touch, the way he would ramble about anything and everything because it made him feel more comfortable. And now, all you had was silence.

You needed answers. You needed to know where you stood before you drove yourself mad.

The next day, you found yourself outside his apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You raised your hand to knock, but it hovered in the air, hesitation weighing you down. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if you were making everything worse by showing up like this?

But you pushed those thoughts aside and knocked.

It took a minute, but eventually, the door creaked open. Spencer stood there, looking just as tired and worn out as you’d imagined. His eyes flicked to you, surprise flashing across his face before he quickly tried to mask it.

"Y/N?" His voice was hoarse, almost like he hadn’t used it in a while.

“Spencer,” you said softly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated, then stepped aside, letting you enter. The apartment was dimly lit, with stacks of books and papers cluttering the space. You sat down on the couch, and he sat across from you, his eyes glued to the floor.

You didn’t know how to start, so you just blurted it out. “Spencer, what’s going on? You’ve been so distant, and I... I just need to know if you want to break up.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What? No, I—”

“Then what is it?” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “You won’t talk to me, you won’t tell me anything. You barely even look at me anymore. I feel like... like I don’t even know you right now.”

Spencer flinched, and you could see the guilt wash over his face. He rubbed his hands together, still tugging on his sleeve like it was some sort of comfort. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“Then why?” you asked, your voice breaking. “Why are you pushing me away? If you care about me at all, please just tell me.”

Spencer stayed silent for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. “I... I didn’t want you to deal with this.”

You frowned, confused. “Deal with what?”

He looked away again, his fingers trembling. “What happened... with... it... it changed me. I’m not... I’m not the same. I didn’t want you to have to see that or deal with it. I didn’t want to burden you with it when... when this relationship is still so new.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the weight of what he was saying finally sinking in. “Spencer... you’re not a burden. You’re never a burden.”

He shook his head, his voice laced with frustration. “You don’t understand. I’m embarrassed. I’m... ashamed. And I don’t want to drag you into that.”

You reached out and gently took his hand in yours, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I don’t care what happened, Spencer. I care about you. I want to be here for you, no matter what. But you have to let me in. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

Spencer’s hand trembled slightly in yours, his eyes still distant, but there was a softness to his gaze now that hadn’t been there before. You could see the exhaustion, the pain he’d been carrying alone. He sat up straighter, a sigh escaping his lips as though he were gathering the courage to continue.

“I... I haven’t been honest with you,” he started, his voice rough with emotion. He looked down at his lap, his fingers still fidgeting. “I’ve been using.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. It felt like time slowed for a second, the weight of those words crashing into you like a tidal wave. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to go down this road—but when you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth there. His face may have been painted with shame and anger, but his eyes… they were pleading. Pleading for understanding, for help.

“Spencer…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t know what to say—part of you wanted to scream, to run, to escape the reality that was suddenly in front of you. But another part of you—the part that loved him deeply, that had spent countless nights by his side—knew you couldn’t abandon him now.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I thought... I thought I could handle it. That I could stop on my own.” He looked at your hand holding his, the tension in his body slowly easing. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m scared that you’ll see the worst parts of me and... and you’ll leave.”

His words hit you hard. You could feel the vulnerability in every syllable, and your heart ached for him. You swallowed hard, your hand tightening around his as you whispered, “You don’t have to handle it alone. You don’t have to hide this from me.”

His breath hitched, and he turned his face away, wiping at his eyes quickly. He was still holding back, his guard up even as the cracks began to show. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to know how weak I am.”

Your heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice. You squeezed his hand tighter, shaking your head. “I’m not going anywhere, Spencer. I’m here. And I’m not giving up on what's here.”

“Spencer, look at me,” you urged, your voice trembling with emotion. He hesitated for a moment before finally meeting your gaze, and what you saw nearly broke you. His face was twisted in pain, his eyes red-rimmed with tears. “You’re not weak,” you said softly. “You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. That’s not weakness.”

He shook his head violently. “No, you don’t understand.” His voice cracked, the dam he’d been holding back finally breaking. “I thought you’d leave me. I’ve been waiting for it. I’m a mess. I’m broken. I didn’t want to... drag you down with me.”

Your heart shattered at his words, at the depth of his self-loathing and fear. You could see now how much he had been struggling alone, how much he had kept bottled up inside, and it broke your heart that he thought he didn’t deserve help—or you.

Without a second thought, you pulled him into your arms, cradling him close. His body tensed for a moment before he melted into you, burying his face in your shoulder as his tears finally spilled over. He sobbed quietly, his hands gripping the back of your shirt as if afraid to let go.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered fiercely, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”

He cried harder, his body shaking with each sob, and you held him tighter, pressing your cheek against his. “I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” he choked out. “I didn’t know how to... how to tell you. I thought I’d ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, Spencer,” you assured him, your own voice breaking now. “I love you. We’ll get through this. I’m here. I’m right here.”

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, holding onto the pieces of what had felt so fragile only moments before. His sobs gradually quieted, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes still glistening with tears but filled with something else too—relief. Hope.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you reminded him gently, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I’m not leaving, and we’ll find help. We’ll get through this together.”

He nodded, his fingers brushing lightly over yours as he whispered, “Thank you.” His voice cracked, but there was sincerity there—real, raw emotion that made your heart ache for him even more.

“Always,” you whispered, pulling him close again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew this wouldn’t be easy—there would be hard days, long nights, moments of doubt. But as long as you had him and he had you, you were ready to face whatever came next.

[caesariawritesstuff]

for the follower event ! prompt: discreet sexual tension 4 and/or 9 with detective reader and scarecrow (or eddie if you’d like). i was so excited to see you update cat & mouse, it’s definitely one of my favorite fics ever. keep it up and congrats!! <3

Learning to Share

Summary: Edward and Jonathan have come to an arrangement...one that involves sharing you.

Content Warning: P in V sex, MFM threesome, sexual punishment, begging, jealousy, masturbation, fingering, spanking, discussions about fear. Slight continuation of Damaged Goods.

Word Count: 15.7k

A/N: @a1atheias also requested the “i want you” “then take me” prompt with reader and scarecrow ☺️. This fic got so out of hand and I'm so sorry it's so long!!!! I had an idea and RAN with it. I really hope you enjoy and hope this doesn't suck lmao. Also special thanks to @jkcreation for helping me a bit to figure out how I wanted this to go. Fic is not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse.

Being involved in law enforcement in Gotham ends in several days: death, burn out, turning to drugs and alcohol, being involved in some twisted experiment, or quitting the force entirely seemed to be the usual ways out – so when a member of the GCPD officially made it to retirement after a long, lustrous career – it was something of a celebration.

With a heavy sigh, you looked up at the Cyrus Pinkney Institute for National History and frowned, disdain clear your eyes. Bright lights surrounded the stone building, bathing it in a yellow glow. All around you, Gothamites came and went, laughing and chatting, dates on their arms. Right about now, you’d much rather be in the bubble bath, face mask on and a good book in hand, but alas, being invited to the retirement party of Sergeant Groszek felt a bit like a summons. There would be quite a large number of officers and detectives there, and you did not want to give off the wrong impression and come off as rude – so that was how you found yourself now, wearing an emerald green dress that reached just shy of your fingertips, hugging your curves in all the right places; the balloon sleeves were tight around the wrist and airy around your arms, hanging off your shoulders, revealing your smooth skin. Across the neckline, it dipped low to reveal a tasteful amount of cleavage – one appropriate for an outing like this. Your gaze slid to the left, where Edward tightly had one arm wrapped around your waist, wearing an identical, green-colored suit that complimented your own dress well. He looked quite handsome in his green suit, the material sleek, and his grip tightened around your waist, fingers digging in. You had assured Edward he didn’t have to come with you to this little event, but he insisted. Quite a bit more than usual, but you shrugged away the thought.

Sighing, you looked at him and said, “We don’t have to stay long. Just enough for me to mingle, drop off this card, and then we can get out of here.”

Edward quirked a brow at you, a slow smirk creeping along the edge of his lips. “Don’t worry, detective, I’m sure I can keep myself occupied while you mingle with these simpletons.”

You smirked back, shaking your head, but walked in tandem with him up the stony steps and into the museum, a spring air gusting across your exposed skin. There were signs posted about with arrows leading you towards the private room where the retirement party was being held, and you and Edward followed them with ease, passing by a myriad of exhibits within glass cases. But as you came to the doorway, you sucked in a breath, silently prepping yourself for the onslaught of small talk you were sure you’d be dragged into. This really was the last place you wanted to be. Narrowing your eyes, you looked around at all of the party goers, already chatting up a storm and congratulating Sergeant Groszek on his achievements over his long career. Along the back wall was a display of food catered in: meat and cheese and fruit platters, chips, small finger foods and sandwiches, and a large custom cake. But your eyes instead caught on the bubbly wine being laid out by a caterer – and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. Well, at least there was something you could look forward to here.

You wandered over, slipping out of Edward’s grasp, and snatched up a glass of wine, bringing it to your lips and sipping slowly. When you pulled the glass away, a smudge of bright lipstick stained the rim. Everyone around you was already engaged in hearty conversation, dressed in suits and ties, women in gorgeous dresses. You glanced down at your own, a small smile curving at the edge of your mouth; Edward had handpicked it just for you, just for this occasion. He’d chosen it with quite great care, you’d noticed, and that simple fact made your heart flutter thunderously in your chest, a warmth pool deep in your stomach. Your thoughts were already straying to what it would be like for him to peel it off you when you got home.

“Give me a moment, will you?” Edward asked, his breath at your ear, tickling your skin. You nodded, watching him slip away, somewhere down the hall where the bathrooms were located.

You turned away, gripping the stem of your glass tightly, and wandered over to one of the shadowy corners away from prying eyes. Ever since you started dating Edward, fitting in with your coworkers had become more difficult. Not like you’d ever fully fit in with them in the first place. Frowning, you took an even deeper sip, draining almost half the glass in the process.

“Careful, detective,” a deep, gravelly voice said from beside you, getting your attention. “This is a party, not a brewhouse, correct?”

You lowered your glass just in time to see Jonathan Crane walk up beside you. Your mouth fell open slightly in surprise; you had not expected to find him here, out and about and surrounded by actual people and not vials of chemicals, especially after the…little incident down in the forensics lab at the GCPD a few weeks ago. An incident that had not only left you slightly shaken, irritated, and annoyed – but also turned on. More than you cared to admit. But ever since that moment, you hadn’t been blind to the way Crane watched you with a slow intention, a careful gaze whenever he did manage to come up from the lab. He only ever exchanged a few words for you, but you could feel the tension between you two, crackling like lightning just under the surface. You were not entirely sure what it was about him that drew you to him, but something did, something you were so desperately trying to fight down and not make known.

You studied him closely, taking in his brown suit and tan colored tie, but your eyes lingered for a little too long on his reconstructed face, and the delicate lines etched into his skin, remnants of multiple surgeries he’d been through. But your gaze met his for a slight moment, and you turned away, taking another sip, as if to prove a point.

“Aren’t parties to be enjoyed, Dr. Crane?” you asked, keeping your voice level.

“Parties such as this bore me,” he said.

You smirked, looking down for just a moment. “Yeah, I don’t exactly enjoy parties like this either,” you mumbled. But when you looked up, you scanned the sea of faces for Edward, but found no sign of him. Where is he when I need him? you wondered.

“Why is that?” he asked after a beat.

You scoffed under your breath, once more taking another sip of your drink. “I guess you could say they bore me, too,” you finally answered. At least coming here with Edward was one thing – if only he would turn back up again. Your gaze searched for him once more, but when you saw no sign of him, your heart sunk, a strange aching in your stomach.

“Something bothering you, detective?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, quickly, not wanting to show him an ounce of your discomfort. You certainly didn’t want a man like him getting under your skin. Again.

“Your body language betrays you,” he said. “Are you afraid of something?”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Afraid my boyfriend is getting himself into trouble. You know how Edward is.”

“I walked past him moments ago,” Crane said. “He’s involved in quite the conversation with the Commissioner and the Mayor. Perhaps it will be a while. Why don’t you sit and enjoy yourself for the time being?”

You hesitated, your grip on your wine stem tightening, but you studied him carefully, before your gaze strayed back to the other side of the room. Well…you supposed he was right. Standing here rocking back and forth on your heels wasn’t going to do you any good. It would only serve to make you grow more agitated. Taking another sip of your wine, you sighed, but walked past Crane, searching for an empty seat – and you spotted a small table off to the right, hidden away in a shadowy corner. You quickly sat down and crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in your seat. But to your surprise, Crane followed you and sat at the seat opposite of you. You frowned, your heart leaping into your throat. You immediately looked away, even though you felt his eyes burning holes in your skin.

“Can I help you, Dr. Crane?” you asked after a long moment of silence.

“I’d like to continue our discussion from a few weeks ago,” he said. “I believe it was left…quite unfinished.”

“Ah,” you said, twirling your glass between your fingertips. “Another therapy session.” You leaned back, meeting his gaze, not wanting to back down from his questions. Not this time – you would not give him the satisfaction.

“All right,” you said. “Ask me whatever you want. I’m an open book.”

A low rumble emanated from deep within his throat. “Be careful what you wish for, detective. You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to.”

You smirked. “Try me,” you said. You had been through enough as is over the last few months – some big scary words from Jonathan Crane couldn’t possibly be any harm, now could they? Especially when you already knew his own game, his own obsession with fear – you simply had to keep from falling into his trap, and everything would be fine. If you could handle Edward, then surely you could handle Crane.

“Very well,” he said. “Does it frighten you? Belonging to a man like Edward?”

“No,” you answered, even though that was a bold-faced lie. Being with Edward did frighten you, but you could not allow Crane to know that.

He raised one brow, an impassive look on his face. “Really? Even after all he’s put you through? Even after every single way he’s made you suffer?”

You paused, letting his words sink in – because you couldn’t deny that you had been through a lot with Edward. A lot. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, there was still that tiny bundle of fear knotted deep in your belly, threatening to rise to the surface. Frowning, you sipped your drink slowly, not breaking eye contact with Crane. His gaze remained just as fixated on you, not giving an ounce of his attention anywhere else.

You lowered your drink back to your lap and said, “Surely it must not bother you to watch people suffer. I’m sure you get off on that sort of thing.”

His head cocked slightly to the side. “Rather crude choice of words, detective.”

“Well, am I wrong? I mean…you put people in horrible, fear-toxin induced experiments for what? For fun? You must find some kind of pleasure in that,” you said.

“I find fear fascinating. It controls every aspect of your life. Every thought, every move you make, every decision,” he said. “You came to this party because you feared what your coworkers would think if you did not show up. You came dressed like…that because you feared making the wrong impression. You drink because you’re afraid if you don’t loosen up, you will not be able to enjoy yourself. Do I need to go on?”

You shifted slightly in your seat, holding back the frustrated scream threatening to tear from your throat, biting down on your tongue. You weren’t sure what, exactly, it was that allowed him to so easily pick you apart and claw your fears from in the inside out – but you knew that every single damn word out of his mouth was true.

But you would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Instead, you set your drink on the table and leaned forward slightly, resting your chin between two fingers. “And what if I said you were wrong? That I’m not afraid?”

“Then I would call you a liar,” he replied.

“And what are you afraid of, Dr. Crane?” you asked, a bite in your voice now.

“I fear nothing,” he said. “I have mastered my fears long ago. You, however, wear them on your sleeve for the whole world to see.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering his words. You had not realized just how much, perhaps, you did show off your emotions. Leaning back a little further in your seat, you studied him, carefully choosing your next words, refusing to let him get under your skin. You leaned forward a little more, not breaking eye contact.

“Let me ask you this, then,” you said. “Why are you so interested in my fears? There are plenty of other people at this party you could be bothering. So why me?”

“Curiosity,” he answered. “Fear is my specialty. My life’s work. I have spent years studying what makes people afraid, what their darkest fears contain. And you…you exude fear. It’s practically radiating off of you, like a flame in the darkness.”

You held your tongue, trying so very hard to give him an ounce of what you were feeling right now – that his words were cutting deep into you, making a bubbling hot anger burrow under your skin. Instead, you took another sip of your drink, draining the glass.

You met his eyes again. “And what do you think my fears are, Dr. Crane?”

“You’re afraid of being vulnerable,” he answered. “Of being exposed. Of losing control of the carefully crafted image you have built for yourself.” He paused, his head cocking slightly to the side. “And most of all, detective, I think you’re afraid of me.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, at that one notion – and the awful, horrible truth was that he was right. Edward had done many terrible things, but he’d never bathed Gotham completely in a cloud of fear toxin or driven people to madness, or been the man to unmask Batman and cause so much death and destruction like Crane had. Crane was…different.

And he terrified you.

“Did I strike a nerve?” he asked when you said nothing, his eyes slowly scanning every inch of your face. “Your silence speaks volumes. You present yourself to the world as though you are unbothered, but deep down, you fear how people perceive you. And most of all, you’re afraid of what I’m capable of. You’re afraid of what I might do to you?”

“And what might you to do to me, Dr. Crane?” you asked, your voice low. And in that moment – there was nothing and nobody else in the room. It was just you and him, alone, the air sucked from your lungs, a strange bundle of warmth melding together with the fear in your stomach, shooting all the way down to your clit. The sounds of the party drifted into nothing but faded whispers, long forgotten.

“There are many things I could do to you, detective,” he said, his eyes never once breaking from yours, his voice low. “Things that would have you trembling in fear, quaking underneath the effects of my toxin, begging for mercy. Would you like me to tell you some of the things I could do to you?”

“Very well,” you said – because you refused to budge. You refused to show weakness, especially to someone like him. He could try all he wanted, but he would not frighten you, make you run screaming like a child in the night.

“Seeing is much more effective than hearing, now isn’t it?” he asked.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes finally pulling away to glance down at his hand – as if steadying yourself for the moment he had a vial of his toxin at the ready – but his hands were completely empty. Your gaze shifted back to him again, and underneath the table, your legs began to tremble out of your control. Fear was a cold knot in your stomach, turning your blood to ice, causing a clamminess to crawl across your skin.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his gaze lowering slightly. “Is it fear, or something else?”

“I’m just cold,” you said quickly, attempting to brush him off.

“Is that so?” he asked, one of his brows raised in clear disregard for what you said. “Your body is showing signs of clear distress. Dilated pupils. Flushed skin. Or is it not distress you’re feeling, detective, but something…else?”

Shit. How was he so capable of reading you so easily? You narrowed your eyes, anger rushing hot through every limb, spreading like wildfire through your veins – but beyond that, there was a spark of something rippling just under the surface, something dark and wicked stirring to life in your heart, reawakening your darkest fantasies.

“Something akin to arousal?” he continued.

You sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. “That’s a ridiculous insinuation,” you murmured, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

“Fear and arousal often go hand in hand,” he said, his voice low, smooth.

“Or, perhaps, you’re completely misreading my physiological responses,” you said.

“Ah, yes,” he said, almost with a bored sigh. “And what, pray tell, do you think is causing this…physiological response of yours?”

“Adrenaline,” you answered, quickly. “It makes your heart beat faster. Makes you shake, makes your pupils dilate. That sort of thing.”

“But that’s not what this is, is it, detective?” he asked, raising his brows. “You’re not in any danger. You’re not preparing to flee. No, this is something much more…intimate.”

There was something in the way the word intimate rolled off his tongue, so full of dark possession, that your insides squirmed, that excitement rushed through your veins, molding together with a hot anger burning brightly inside of you.

“I doubt you’re one to talk about the specifics of intimacy, Crane,” you said, finally.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, burning that flame even brighter inside of you, causing it to stir to life. The way he was looking at you – studying you – as if you were a lab rat, made your skin crawl. But it wasn’t just the way his cold, calculating gaze studied you, it was the way his words dug into your skin, picking you apart piece by never-ending piece. And here you were, finding yourself sucked into his words, into his every display of intelligent superiority, in a way that was not boastful or full of ego – the complete opposite of Edward.

Edward. Shit. Where even was he? You suddenly backed away, looking around the room once more, searching for him – but still, you saw no sign of him. No green suit stood out amongst the sea of black and blues and browns. And instead of going off to find him, you were sitting here in your own little bubble with Jonathan Crane, feeling a pulsing in your clit, a dampening between your thighs – because he was right. So fucking right.

You were completely fucking aroused.

And you were done with this conversation.

Scowling, you quickly stood up. “Thank you for this enlightening conversation, Dr. Crane. But I’m going to find my boyfriend now,” you said. Turning on your heels, you stormed across the room and searched for any sign of Edward, but there was still none.

Groaning under your breath, you made your way back over to the drink table and snatched up another glass of wine, sipping slowly, trying to clear your mind and body of all thoughts of Jonathan Crane. Bastard, you thought. How dare he put you in such a compromising position, make you feel so vulnerable, as if you were on display for the world to see? You took another sip of your drink, relishing in the taste, when you suddenly felt a presence behind you – a different one, an unfamiliar one, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Crane standing behind you, just inches away. Nerves trickled up your spine and you shuddered, that delicious heat once more pooling in your belly at his proximity, at the smell of his cologne, at his cruel gaze, which was once more fixated on you.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips: a soft, featherlight touch, but enough to make the breath catch in your throat, a small gasp escape your lips – especially when you felt him brush against your backside.

His lips were suddenly at your ear, “Come with me.”

He glanced over his shoulder at you, and for the first time, you saw the very delicate hint of a smile curved at the edge of his lips. Barely there, but noticeable enough – and there was something in his gaze that made warmth pool in your belly, made your heart thump so quickly you could hardly stand it.

Follow me, his cruel gaze said. But it was not a suggestion. It was a command.

Hesitantly, you set your drink back down, searching the crowd once more for Edward, but you could not find him. You were growing angrier by the second, a hot prickling underneath your skin like you were being stabbed by a hundred knives. Following Crane was a stupid idea, but you needed to put an end to this…whatever this strange attraction was, and you did not want to make a scene here, in front of all of these people. They already thought badly enough of you as is.

Jonathan slipped through the crowd, disappearing out of your view, but you weaved through the sea of people to follow him, coming to one of the quiet halls of the museum. He was already ahead of you, leading the way, and you scowled, stomping after him, fire burning in your veins, turning your blood to molten liquid. He wandered down one corridor, disappearing around one corner, and you quickened your steps – but just as you came around, his hand was suddenly on your wrist, the other at your throat, pushing you gently against the wall. You gasped, a wave of fear washing over you as he pressed you against the glass of an exhibit.

“Ssh,” he said quietly, deep in his voice. “You don’t want the others to hear us, now do you?” His cold, blue eyes studied your face with a strange intensity.

“What game are you playing at, Crane?” you hissed. “If Edward finds out about this—”

“Edward already knows about this,” he said, cutting you off.

You blinked, surprised, taken aback by his words. You sucked in a slow, steadied breath, trying desperately to control your breathing, your heartrate, your fear. “What?”

“I have asked for his permission,” he said lowly, his breath tickling at your skin.

“To do what?” you whispered, terror clawing up your throat.

“To share you,” he answered without hesitation.

If this was any other man, you might have laughed. Might have believed this was some sort of sick joke – but this was no ordinary man. It was Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, and he was not a joking man. Every inch of his expression was passive. Emotionless. Serious.

He was utterly, utterly serious.

“Edward would never share me,” you whispered, feeling hot defiance rise in your belly.

“Perhaps not with any of the other denizens of Gotham,” he said. “But with me…I’m a different matter entirely.”

You couldn’t help it – your jaw dropped open as confusion and terror and all clawed at you at once, digging into your insides, causing that horrible warmth to pool in your stomach, to travel its way down to your aching clit. Being pinned against the wall like this – trapped – it sent you spiraling, in that way that flared to life your darkest desires, fanning the flames of pleasure and excitement and wanton need.

“You don’t believe me?” Jonathan said after a moment. “Perhaps you should ask Edward yourself.” His fingers finally loosened from around your neck, the digits sliding off delicately, taking his time as he let you go. He took one step back and gestured to a private, out of the way office, far from the festivities taking place.

You hesitated, curling your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palms. You had every reason to smack him right then and there – but you would not allow him to see your fear, to see how frightened you truly were. If this was true…you wanted to hear it straight from Edward’s own mouth. Turning on your heels, you stormed into the office – and sure enough, you found Edward sitting in the chair, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other in a lazy-like position – the very epitome of a man with too big of an ego. And the boyfriend you kind of wanted to knock over the head right about now.

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Edward,” you said, a bite in your voice. “Is what he says true?”

A hazy look filled his eyes, and he smirked. “Yes, detective. Crane is telling the truth. We have…come to an arrangement.”

“What kind of arrangement?” you asked carefully. As the words slipped from your mouth, you glanced back to find that Jonathan had shut and locked the door behind him. Another bolt of fear and excitement rushed through you as a thousand questions rang through your mind. This couldn’t possibly be going where you thought it was going, could it?

“One that involves you, my dear,” Edward replied. “You see, Crane here has taken quite an interest in you. He finds you…how should I put it, fascinating? You know Crane, always needing to study everything around him.” He waved his hand, scoffing under his breath.

“I’m not something to be studied,” you said, angrily.

“Come now, detective,” Jonathan said, stepping forward until he was standing side-by-side with you, his arms crossed behind his back. His gaze roved carefully over you, inch by inch, making your skin crawl with a delicious heat.

“Edward is right. I find you quite fascinating,” he continued, taking a step closer to you. One of his hands snaked out, grasping your chin between two fingers. “There’s something about you that has Edward so trapped under your spell. You have a power over him, a power I can’t explain. And I need to know why. I need to understand it…to taste it. To taste you.”

You shuddered against his touch, the urge to step back all consuming, but when your gaze slid to Edward – it was as if he pinned you there completely, not daring you to budge an inch. As if he wanted you there, in Crane’s grasp, in this very moment, at their mercy. Jonathan’s grip tightened on your chin, forcing you to look back at him.

“You’re not something to be studied, detective,” Crane said. “You’re something to be enjoyed. And Edward here has finally learned to share.”

His words were like lightning through you, sparking to life a powerful heat in your belly, an aching, a desperate need to be consumed. But no words would come out of your mouth, and you stood there in silent horror and awe, completely unable to process what was happening in this moment. You could not believe their boldness – to think how easily they lured you away to have this discussion, to be used as if you were some kind of plaything.

Your gaze flicked to Edward again. You should be enraged. Insulted. But instead, you’re standing here, your mind completely blank of what to do or even say – the only coherent thought you can even come up with is the very real realization that your clit is throbbing, aching, at the very thought of being taken by these two men – these two very dangerous men – and used in whatever way they desire. The very idea that they both were fascinated with you left a fire burning in your belly, stirring awake those dark desires in your heart.

“Is this true, Edward?” you finally managed to ask.

He nodded, slowly. “Admittedly, I would prefer not to share you, but…” He paused, as if choosing his next words carefully. “Crane can be quite persuasive, and I find myself curious to see what the Master of Fear is capable of doing to you. Can he touch you the way I do? Make you cum the way I do? Make you scream his name the way I make you scream mine?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you shivered at his words – because you can’t help but he just as curious, too. Your gaze strayed back to Crane once more, finding him continuing to study you with a close eye, a curious gaze, as if wondering the same thing Edward was.

You shook your head, scoffing under your breath. “And how long have you been having this discussion behind my back?”

“Long enough,” Crane answered. His grip never lessened on your throat.

Long enough. His words echoed on a loop in your mind. You did not appreciate being spoken about behind your back – and as outraged as you should have been, you could not help but feel just a bit drawn to this situation entirely, to the possibilities that could arise from such an…arrangement. But you were supposed to be with Edward. He was your boyfriend. Something about doing this did not feel right; it felt like a betrayal, in a way. Your gaze flickered back to him, studying his face, but you had come to know Edward well enough that he was completely and utterly serious.

“What if I say no?” you asked.

“If you were going to say no, you would have walked out of this room already, detective,” Crane said. “You would not have followed me into a dark, secluded hallway. You would not have followed me into this room. You would not be here now, allowing me to touch you.” As if to prove his point, his fingers slid down your throat in a smooth motion, once more grasping the question mark pendant draped around your neck. He stroked it with his thumb, but once he let it go, he reached out with two fingers, placing them onto your pulse point.

“Racing heart,” he murmured. “You’re not afraid of us, are you, detective?”

“No,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly. Your fears about being around Edward had faded away into whispers long ago. But…

“Or,” Jonathan continued. “Are you afraid of me?”

The breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening. Because, the truth was right there, staring you right in the face: you were afraid of Jonathan Crane. He terrified you, caused horror to race through you like lightning, to bundle up in a cold knot in your stomach. Finally, you took a step back, needing a moment to distance yourself. You crossed your arms over yourself, shaking your head as another low scoff escaped your mouth. This was an absurd proposition. Asinine. What they were asking…what Edward was asking…

You spun around on your heels, walking away from Jonathan and over to the desk, wearing Edward remained, still watching you carefully. You opened your mouth to say something – anything – any kind of insult or rage-filled words. But nothing came out. Because as angry as you were, you still felt it: the strange, magnetic pull to both of these dangerous men. And as afraid as you were, your own curiosity could not be ignored.

“What are you afraid of, detective?” Jonathan asked, his cool voice filling the quiet room. “Being shunned? Made to feel like our plaything? Losing your precious paramour in the process as another man claims you for himself?”

“Another man,” you said silently, glancing over your shoulder. “Meaning you.”

Jonathan only answered with a sly smile curving at the edge of his lips.

“I know this is quite a lot to ask of you so suddenly,” Edward said, his voice gentle. “But I assure you, detective, nothing will change between us.”

So suddenly, you wanted to say, but held your tongue – as a slow realization washed over you. Over the last few weeks, your sexual tension around Jonathan had been growing more than you realized – perhaps because they’d been planning this moment for some time. The looks Jonathan had given you over the last few weeks, the words he’d spoken – it had all been a part of their plan, and you’d been blind to see it. You glared down at Edward, anger rushing hot through your veins like a wildfire.

Footsteps behind you got your attention, and before you could react, Jonathan was suddenly behind you. You felt his breath on your neck, before one of his hand snaked around your shoulder, once more grabbing at your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Another bolt of worry shot through every limb – but what was worse was the heat that traveled all the way down to your groin, aching, dampening arousal between your thighs.

“I can see it in your eyes, detective,” Jonathan said. “You want this as much as we do. You need this. To be wanted. Needed. Craved.” His breath tickled at your skin, each word out of his mouth making chills run up and down your spine.

Because the goddamn truth was that he was right.

All your life, you’d dreamed of being desired, wanted, needed. Feared being unloved, used, cast aside as nothing. And now, to have two dangerous men wanting you, so much that they were willing to share you…it caused a ripple of delicious heat to pool in your core. It stirred to life all of this wicked desires in your heart, driving you to the brink of madness. And the worst part was that Jonathan Crane had you completely and utterly figured out. It was like he could see straight down into your soul, finding your fears with just one look, and whisper them in your ear, revealing them to you in all their frightening glory.

Angrily, you scowled, yanking your chin from his grasp once more, crossing your arms over yourself. As much as they wanted you to play this game with them, you would not give in so easily – not without understanding the terms of this…arrangement. Slowly, you turned back around, glancing at both of them; they stood there with hungry looks in their eyes, as if waiting for your next move, the next words out of your mouth. You wandered back over to the desk and hoisted yourself onto it, crossing one leg over the other, placing your hands behind you to keep yourself propped up. Jonathan regarded you with a raised brow, as if interested in your next move. Good, you thought. If they could play this game, you could play it, too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Edward sit up a little straighter from his spot at the desk. You glanced at him, then back at Jonathan; both their eyes were narrowed, full of curiosity, mirroring the same expression of patience and hungry interest.

“Well,” you finally said after a long moment. “What exactly are the terms of this arrangement you two made behind my back?”

Edward pushed back from the desk, quickly standing as he said, “The terms are simple, my dear. I am so generously sharing you with Crane – with your approval, of course. He must ask for my permission if he would like to have you for an evening.”

He took a step closer, reaching forward, capturing your chin between his fingers, running his thumb along your bottom lip in a way that made heat pool in your core. “And you, my dear, are not allowed to play favorites. We both shall have equal access to you – at all times. Whenever we want. How we want. Wherever we want.”

You sucked in a slow, controlled breath, letting his words wash over you as that delicious heat throbbed between your legs. The very idea of being taken by these two men – one who had a hold on your heart, the other you still weren’t sure yet – but the very idea excited you.

And angered you.

You narrowed your eyes, meeting Edward’s gaze. “I’m not a toy to be passed around,” you said, a bite in your voice now.

“Of course not,” Edward said, his thumb now slowly stroking right below your bottom lip with care. “This is an arrangement that will benefit all of us. “Our curiosities will be satisfied, and you shall be quite satisfied, detective.” He smirked, that tricky glint in his eyes gleaming.

You looked away again, your gaze straying somewhere far across the other side of the room. A thousand words hung on your lips, but you could not seem to get them out. You had so many questions, but your mind was drawing a blank, too wrapped up in your own terror and excitement and desire. To be so…needed. Wanted. Desired. By these two men…it alighted a fire within you, awakening so many dark desires in your heart, bringing to life a darkness that resided in the very depths of your soul. You shivered against Edward’s touch, trembling, fear and desire pooling in your stomach, melding together as one.

“Is it fear or desire that makes you tremble so?” Jonathan asked, stepping forward.

“Both,” you answered, because that was the honest truth.

They exchanged a look, and Edward’s hand slipped from your chin. He finally took a step back, disappearing into the dark shadows of the office to lean against the wall and cross his arms, making room for Jonathan to step in front of you now. He studied you with a careful eye, his gaze roaming every inch of your skin.

“Dilated pupils. Flushed skin,” he said quietly, as if more to himself, but his gaze dropped to your chest, pausing there for a moment; you glanced down, realizing that your nipples had hardened, slightly poking through the fabric of your dress.

Jonathan glanced back at you. “Signs of your arousal are clearly evident.”

Your gaze slid from Jonathan back to Edward, who was watching the entire interaction silently, his head cocked slightly to the side. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the blood rushing through your ears, the warmth between your legs – Jonathan was clearly right. You were aroused. You were terrified.

And you were also completely at their mercy.

Your gaze shifted back to Jonathan. “And what exactly do you want out of this, Crane?”

He took another slow, calculated step forward until he was but millimeters from you. Slowly, his hand reached out once more to capture your chin between two fingers, slightly lifting your face to look directly into your eyes.

“I want you,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “But I will not unless you give me permission. Such brutalities are far beneath me. I will only touch you if you say so.”

He was but millimeters away from you, and you hesitated, a sharp breath leaving your lips. You glanced over Jonathan’s shoulder once more, searching for Edward, and he gave you a slow nod. Giving his permission. But if you went down this route, you knew the utter truth: there would be no going back. There would be no way to forget this happened. Edward already had his claws in you, and if you allowed Crane to do the same…there would be no changing that. You would be theirs – both of theirs – completely.

And, perhaps, the truth was that you wanted to be.

You glanced back at Jonathan. “Then take me,” you whispered.

That was all he needed. In an instant, his lips were on yours, crushing, bruising. One of his hands grabbed your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. His other hand snaked up, threading itself in your hair, tugging lightly. His kisses were not gentle – they were rough, possessive, his tongue invading your mouth with almost a brutal possessiveness. You gasped lightly, your tongue meeting his, sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as his mouth moved from your lips, across your jaw, down your neck. His lips were rough from scarring, and he smelled of a strange mixture of musk and woods, the scent invading your nose. His teeth nipped at your neck, his tongue snaking out to massage each small bite, as if soothing your flesh. Slowly, testing, you spread your legs slightly, allowing him to nestle himself in between them – and you could already feel the hardness of his own arousal suddenly pressing against your core. You leaned into him, arching your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth and teeth found that sensitive spot on your neck – the one that made you crumble beneath him. You shuddered against him, his body hard and lean – leaner than Edward’s, and you found yourself comparing the way Jonathan kissed you to the way Edward did.

A low rumble escaped Jonathan’s mouth, and his onslaught of kisses continued, working their way across the delicate flesh of your collarbone. He brushed your necklace aside and let his tongue drag across your skin, causing a shudder to pass through you. His tongue was warm, wet, sending a delicious heat rippling across every inch of your body, shooting pleasure all the way down to your clit. You gasped as he brought his lips up the other side of your jaw, as if to savor the other side of your face, his teeth nipping once more at your skin.

Opening your eyes slightly, you found Edward continuing to watch with a strange curiosity in his gaze, his eyes narrowed and focused on the scene at hand. At watching another man touch you, have his way with you – sending another tremble through you, bundling fear deep in your core, tightening in your stomach.

Just then, Jonathan’s hand gripped your chin once more, forcing you to look back at him, his eyes cold and calculating. “Don’t look at him, pet,” he said quietly. “Focus on me. Or are you afraid of what he might be thinking?”

The sharp intake of breath made you tremble again, and you licked your lips before saying, “Yes…I’m afraid.”

“No need to be afraid,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “Fear is good. It reminds you of the dangers that surround you. After all, you’re here with us, aren’t you? You have every right to be afraid.”

You were quiet for a beat – because you were afraid of where this would lead, what would come of it, what Edward would think to watch as you were ravished by another man. But your own curiosity, your own pull towards Jonathan, was too much to bear, too confusing, further drawing you into that darkest part of yourself that you did not want to admit to.

His grip on your chin tightened. “Fear governs everything you do,” he continued. “And it also gives way to more…primal desires, detective. Desires you try to deny yourself. Desires you do not want to admit to, that frighten you. Am I correct?”

“Yes,” you whispered, knowing every word out of his mouth was right.

His cold eyes narrowed, and he backed away slightly, studying you carefully. His cold, cruel gaze was enough to cause your trembling body to tremble even more, to cause panic swelling in your stomach. A part of you desperately wanted to bolt out of this room, to flee, but you were glued to the spot – your desire too great to ignore. You fought the urge to look over at Edward again, despite how great your curiosity was, and kept your eyes fixated on Jonathan instead, watching as his hand snaked up to stroke at your face, in a motion that could be disguised for gentle, but you saw it for what it was: complete control. His hand brushed across your cheek – before suddenly gripping into your hair once more, tangling in your strands, his nails digging slightly into your scalp in that painful, pleasurable sort of way. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his roughness, and you trembled against him.

His eyes roved over you carefully, as if taking every inch of you in, as if trying to figure out what to do with you next. You couldn’t help but wonder how experienced he was, how many men or women he’d been with, what kind of things he was into. You smirked, a heat of desire pulsing in your belly at the way he looked at you with such primal intention.

“Undress,” he finally said, a low command, leaving no room for arguing.

You blinked, a bit taken aback, but your gaze slid to the door. “What if someone—”

“It’s been taken care of,” Edward spoke up. “No need to worry, my dear. No one will be coming into this room to disturb us.”

Your gaze flickered back to Jonathan. His expression was emotionless, unyielding, not giving away anything to what he might be thinking. He was completely and utterly controlled. Fear knotted in your stomach, but with trembling hands, you slipped out of your dress. The cool air brushed across your naked skin, your nipples growing hard; you shimmied out of the dress and let it pool at the bottom of the desk, leaving you in nothing but a lacy green thong that you’d specifically picked out for Edward. The heavy swell of your breasts were revealed for both men to see, and Jonathan’s eyes immediately dropped to your pert, pink nipples. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the dampness of your own arousal between your legs. Every part of you was on high alert, on edge, teetering over the precipice of fear and terror. You had never done this before – never had sex while another man watched, especially if that other man was your own boyfriend, and you were in a room with two of Gotham’s most dangerous men, but that was beside the point.

Slowly, Jonathan reached out, testing the weight of your left breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over the nipple gently. You sucked in a soft breath at the small jolt of pleasure that radiated through your breast. His hands were rough, calloused, and he pinched your nipple between two fingers, earning another gasp from you. You trembled at his touch, at the fire his fingers left in their wake across your skin. His eyes were narrowed, studying your reaction, and you titled your head back slightly, arching your back so he had better access to your breasts. He cupped the other breast in his hand, needing and palming at it, his touch growing rougher and more needy by the second. A low whine left your lips, and you closed your eyes, relaxing into his touch – but just as you did, you felt his hand at your throat again.

“Eyes on me, pet,” he said, and your eyes snapped open, another jolt of fear radiating throughout your body. You met his gaze again, studying the emotionless expression on his face, as his fingers trailed downward, carefully grazing down your stomach to the hem of your thong.

He glanced at you again, then back down, before slowly lowering to his knees. Your breath caught in your throat, and you shuddered as his gaze never left yours. Your breaths were shallow, uncertain, nerves and fear writhing in your belly like a parasite. Slowly, he leaned in, snaking his tongue out to delicately brush across your inner thigh – only inches away from where you most wanted him to be. His tongue ran lines down your inner thigh, tracing in circular patterns, before reaching back up to the bend of your leg – and then, suddenly, he bit down.

You gasped at the sudden pain, jolting slightly, trembling in both pain and pleasure at the sharpness of his teeth. But as quickly as the bite came, so did his tongue once more, swirling around the bite as if to soothe it. You glanced at Edward once more, finding him still standing there, watching with a curious, lustful gaze in his eye. You glanced down at his groin, noticing the hardness of his own erection in the confines of his trousers, and your insides warmed at the idea of him being turned on by this entire interaction – even if there was a lingering jealousy in his gaze. You smirked slyly, spreading your legs a little further for Jonathan to have access to. He glanced up at you from in between your legs, before rising back up. The look in his eyes was full of a cold, cruelness to them, not a hint of warmth in his cloudy gaze – and just that look made you tremble more, made the hairs on the back of your neck rise on end. You were sure if he could devour you whole, he would.

Suddenly, his hand shot out once more, and his hands tangled in your hair once again, fingers digging tightly in. “Show me how you pleasure yourself, detective.”

His words took you aback, but your mouth fell open slightly in surprise. You hesitated, but slowly reached in between your legs. Pushing your thong aside slightly, you dove two fingers into your own wetness. With your other hand, you used one finger to swirl around your clit in slow, meticulous motions, causing a bolt of pleasure to shudder through you. It surged through your thighs, down to the tips of your toes, across every inch of your skin, and your mouth dropped open silently as you continued to fuck yourself with your own fingers. He watched silently, before he leaned forward, his lips at your ear.

“Does it frighten you, detective? To have two men watch you while you pleasure yourself?” he whispered lowly. “To see you completely unraveled, vulnerable, at our mercy?”

You shuddered at his words, trying to fight the fear coursing through your veins. Trying to keep some shred of dignity you still had left. As if in answer, your gaze flickered past Jonathan and over to Edward, who still remained bathed in the shadows, watching with strange look in his eyes.

“Don’t look at him,” Jonathan barked out, his voice low and cruel. “Focus on me, pet.”

Your eyes snapped back to him, and a low gasp escaped your lips as ripples of pleasure bundled underneath your skin. Every inch of you was on fire, your brain going fuzzy from the pleasure of your own fingers working their magic against you in just the way you liked. You could feel yourself builder higher and higher towards a release – and having two men watch you made it all the more sweeter.

Jonathan reached forward, snaking his hand through your hair once more, tightening his fingers at your scalp. You gasped as he pulled onto the strands, tilting your head back slightly, his cold gaze never leaving yours for an instant.

“Is it the thrill of being watched that makes you tremble like this?” he asked lowly, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble. “Or the danger?”

The only answer you gave was a soft gasp. Heat flushed across your skin. Here you were: propped up on this desk, your legs spread wide, revealing the most vulnerable part of yourself for both men to see. Wetness coated your fingers, and you pumped two fingers in and out of yourself, gasping in tandem at the way your other finger swirled around your clit. Pleasure bundled in your stomach, tightening in your abdomen, knots of pure ecstasy rising higher and higher with each stroke, each thrust, each motion.

Jonathan studied you carefully, his eyes roving over every inch of your body, pausing to watch you fuck yourself. He showed no signs of emotion across his face, and you couldn’t even tell if he was enjoying watching this. Your fingers began to slow slightly, wondering if he was growing bored with this, but his cold voice filled the room once more.

“Does it scare you, detective?” he asked, leaning forward, his lips just brushing the shell of your ear. “To be so completely at the mercy of two men who are watching you right now?”

His words sent another rippled of fear down your spine. It tightened in your stomach, molding together with your pleasure, causing your heart to beat like a wild animal against your ribcage. Sweat beaded on your brow as your entire body flushed from head to toe, sending a shiver across your skin. Your breath quickened at his question, your fingers slowing their movements as you considered his question—

“I did not say you could stop,” Jonathan said, his voice a low command.

The words out of his mouth made you pause for a millisecond, before you resumed the work of your fingers: pumping in and out of yourself, swirling your finger around your clit. You leaned back a little more against the table, but his fingers in your hair did not let up, only tightened harder, sending a small ripple of pain across your skull. You were completely at his mercy, just his words enough to edge you closer to the brink. Your fear melding together with the pleasure in a strange kind of concoction – somehow enhancing your pleasure in a way you’d never experienced before. You snuck another glance at Edward, and he stood back, his eyes narrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line. But that look – of knowing your own boyfriend was watching another man do this to you, it sparked another bolt of fear down your spine, and yet at the very same time, it turned on you to heights you’d never experienced before. Jonathan’s hands released from around your hair, and he stepped back slightly, just enough to take in the full sight of you in your needy, wanton mess.

“Find your release, detective,” he said. “But keep your eyes on me as you do.”

You nodded, barely, breathless as your eyes found his cold, cruel gaze once more. He was staring at you as if you were a bug under his feet, something to be squashed entirely. Fear knotted in your belly, creeping up your spine – but you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers, quickening your pace as your climax teetered right on the edge – and suddenly, the little bundle of pleasure grew higher and higher – before exploding throughout your body. You gasped, crying out as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure coursed through your body. Your legs and hips bucked as you continued to work your fingers against yourself, chasing the rest of your high. But as the sensations trickled away, you finally removed your hands and relaxed against the desk, sucking in slow, deep breaths. Every inch of your skin was on fire, and a flush crept across your skin. You raised your eyes to him, looking back and forth between the two men, feeling completely exposed and raw and vulnerable. You’d never…touched yourself in front of two men before, not like this. Not when there were two pairs of eyes to look at you.

“Very good, detective,” Jonathan said quietly, but his voice held no ounce of praise. Just that patented cold, calculating nature to it. “Now. On your knees.”

You sat up a bit, sucking in a breath, a funny feeling at what he wanted next arising within you. You fought against looking at Edward once more, despite your every instinct screaming to, and slowly, you pushed yourself off the desk and lowered to your knees in front of Jonathan. Your knees knocked together, your entire body trembling. It wasn’t like you’d ever given a man a blowjob before – but something about this…about giving it to a man like Jonathan while Edward watched…it was frightening. Terrifying.

And exhilarating, all at the same time.

Jonathan was quiet as he reached down, undoing the buckle of his belt. With only a few smooth moves of his deft fingers, he slipped his cock from his pants: engorged, glistening with precum at the tip. Your eyes widened at the sight. He wasn’t quite as long as Edward, but he was a bit girthier, and thin, throbbing veins ran along his shaft. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your body prickling with heat as you gazed up at him.

“Open your mouth,” he said, another command. “And let me in.”

Your mouth opened slightly, a moment of hesitation, before you opened your jaw a little wider. His tip approached you carefully, before his cockhead slid into your mouth. Inch by inch, he slid himself inside of you. You wrapped your mouth around him, breathing through your nose as you massaged the underside of his member with your tongue. One of his hands came to tighten itself in your hair again, his nails digging into your scalp. He tasted of salt and sweat and skin, a brown patch of curls poking through the confines of his pants. He filled your mouth completely, and he slid in and out of you with careful strokes.

“Detective,” he said, almost a groan. “I believe you know what to do, yes?”

You nodded, gazing up at him while he remained in your mouth. Using your other hand, you wrapped it around his shaft, pumping slowly in combination with your mouth and tongue. A low groan escaped his lips as you worked against his length, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly at the intrusion, but breathed through your nose. Soft groans escaped his lips, and when you looked up again, you found his head tilted back slightly, still gazing down at you, watching your every move. You moaned softly around his member, taking him all the way in, over and over again. His fingers tightened in your hair as a low, guttural groan escaped his lips, and you smirked, watching him come undone. It was quite a sight to behold: the Master of Fear with his head titled back, losing himself to the pleasure you offered. You moaned against his length again, taking him deeper, faster, and he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth in tandem slowly and meticulously, every movement of his precise and controlled. Your core warmed, arousal dampening in between your legs, and your gaze flickered to Edward, still standing in the shadows with a narrowed, lustful gaze. Warm pleasure pooled in your core, and you fought the urge to reach down and touch yourself again, too busy giving Jonathan the pleasure he so craved at this very moment.

Just as you began to quicken your pace, he suddenly pulled back, slipping himself from your mouth. You glanced up at him, a bit surprised at how he’d pulled away, and a bout of disappointment rippled through you. His member was coated in your saliva, glistening in the light. You sat back on your knees, his taste lingering on your tongue.

Jonathan reached down, placing a hand across the top of your head, trailing his fingers down your cheek and to your chin, where he lifted your head up slightly. “That pretty mouth of yours has certainly had a bit of practice, now hasn’t it?” He glanced at Edward for a moment.

Edward’s smirk grew, his lustful gaze twinkling. “Jealous, Crane?”

A bolt of pleasure knotted in your stomach again, and a sense of pride swelled inside of you, as if happy to be pleasing Edward by doing this – even if this was sucking off another dangerous man, one who made you tremble with fear. You weren’t sure what Crane was going to do next, but that fear further increased inside of you, balling into a cold, hard knot at the center of your ribcage. But more than that, you feared how Edward was thinking, feeling, if he was going to lash out in a jealous rage and take you for his own.

“Look at me,” Jonathan said again, forcing your eyes back to him. His head cocked slightly to the side, as if studying you with cruel intention. “Do you fear what he might be thinking? That you’re here, servicing me instead? Or…do you wish it was him in my place?”

You can’t help how much your trembling, a cold chill brushing across your naked flesh. Your teeth are practically chattering with the fear – and you can’t even bring yourself to answer him, to make your terror known. But you can see it in his eyes: how much he’s enjoying your fear, your terror, and you can’t pull your eyes away.

His grip tightened on your chin. “Answer me,” he said.

“I…” you struggled to find the words. “I…I’m afraid of what he’s thinking. I’m afraid he’s going to look at me like…” You paused, the words stilling in your mouth, heavy on your tongue. Like I’m nothing but his plaything. Like a whore. Like a toy to be passed around.

Jonathan quirked a brow, seeming to understand what you were going to say. But his hand finally dropped from your chin, and he took a step back, tucking himself into his pants. “Like what?” he asked, a cruel smirk twitching at the edge of his lips.

Great. He was going to make you say it. Of course he was.

“Like I’m a whore,” you whispered. “Like I’ll be…tainted after this. Like he won’t want me anymore.” The words tumbled out of you, and it took you a moment to realize you were shaking, your fears bundling deep in your stomach, spreading a coldness through your limbs.

“Tainted?” Jonathan asked, his head tilting slightly to the side. “My dear, you were tainted by Nigma the very moment you let his cock enter you. The moment you spread your legs for him, every inch of you was poisoned by his narcissist, egotistical nature.”

Edward scoffed under his breath, a sound of disgust. “I’m sure that speech will really get her going, Crane,” he said.

Jonathan glanced back at Edward. “Why don’t we see, hmm?” His gaze shifted back to you once more. “Back on the desk, pet. And remove that silly little thing.” He nodded to your thong, now soaked through.

Nodding, you stood and slowly slipped out of the thong, stepping out of it one leg at a time. You let it fall onto the floor atop your dress, heat burning your cheeks, spreading through every inch of your flesh. Your skin was on fire with desire and terror and everything in between. You hoisted yourself back onto the desk, using your arms to prop yourself up behind you.

Jonathan met your gaze once more. “Spread your legs.”

His command was not gentle. There was no warmth to his voice, no seduction, just a pure, calculated coldness. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you listened, spreading your thighs apart, revealing your most intimate spot. His gaze rove over your naked body, before landing on your womanhood. He took a step closer, resting one hand on your thigh, his fingers digging in. With the other hand, he tentatively reached forward, stroking at your wet folds with a curious carefulness. You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself for what he might do next; he brushed aside your folds, toying with them, before he slid two fingers into you. A soft breath escaped your lips as his long digits filled you, and slowly, he pulled them back – and then inserted them again, repeating the motion over and over again in a slow manner.

“So wet,” he mumbled, as if he was making an observation and you were an experiment. He continued the slow motions of his fingers, in and out, in and out, and you tilted your head back slightly, soft gasps escaping your lips.

“Touch yourself, detective,” he said, his voice once more a command. “I want to see you find your release on my fingers.”

You didn’t hesitate – you were too caught up in this, in the heat and desire, to argue. Your finger immediately found your clit, and you began stroking yourself in the motion you enjoyed. As you did, his fingers began to pump out of you harder, faster, at a furious pace, fucking you. You gasped at the sensation of his fingers and you stroking your clit – together in tandem, slowly bundling pleasure in your core. Sweat beaded down your brow and soft gasps and moans escaped your lips out of your control. You titled your head back, not daring to shut your eyes, fearing Jonathan would simply command you to keep them open. But as he fucked you with his fingers, your legs began to tremble and shake, your whole body tightening with the pleasure he gave you. Your gasps grew louder as you felt that pleasure building inside of you, rocking your core, igniting a fire in your belly. God, you were close – so fucking close – and just as you swirled your finger around your clit again – that band inside you snapped, releasing a wave of ecstasy across your skin. A loud cry escaped your lips, and Jonathan’s fingers only continued to work their magic inside of you. Your fingernails dug into the table as you bucked your hips into his hand, chasing the finality of your orgasm.

As the last of your climax washed over you, you slowly removed your hand, resting it atop the desk, panting as his fingers came to a slow, before he removed them entirely. Jonathan brought his two fingers up, studying the wet sheen coating his fingers, before he opened his mouth – and he licked his fingers clean. The motion made your insides clench and tighten with another bolt of heat, watching with desire as he licked himself of your juices. Your mouth fell open slightly, and your skin prickled with a delicious desire, a desperation to continue this. His eyes never broke from yours as he licked each digit clean, his eyes roaming over you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance over at Edward, who continued to watch with that lustful, jealous gaze burning in his blue eyes. The room was so quiet, all you could hear was the thundering of your heart beating like a rabid animal against your breastbone.

Edward took a step forward, a scoff escaping his lips. “Making her work for it, Crane? The least you could is use your own mouth. Here, why don’t I show you, since you can’t even make her cum properly.”

The breath caught in your throat as you glanced between both men, a bundle of heat stirring within your core. Jonathan glanced at Edward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but he stepped aside and said, “Be my guest, Edward.”

Smirking, Edward approached you, wandering over as he studied you, his eyes roving over every inch of your body. His gaze was full of desire, and you noted the obvious erection pressing against the confines of his pants.

“Edward,” you whispered, but he cupped your face in between your hands as he shushed you, pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was passionate, greedy, as if a clear display of his ownership over you. Like even though he had agreed to share you tonight, you still belonged completely to him.

As he pulled away, his hands dropped down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he pulled them apart eagerly and lowered to his knees. In an instant, his mouth was on your clit, sucking gently, and you gasped, shuddering at the sensation of his tongue and mouth working against your overly sensitive clit. With two fingers, he inserted them into you, curving them, until he found your G-spot, stroking against the sensitive spot. A low whine escaped your lips as you tilted your head back, practically melting against his mouth, losing yourself to the pleasure he offered. Stars danced in your vision, and your entire body trembled with need and heat – but you were so preoccupied, lost in the feel of Edward’s tongue lapping against your clit, that you didn’t realize Jonathan walked around the side of the desk, coming up behind you.

You felt his breath suddenly at your neck, and he brushed your hair aside, exposing the left side of your neck. Jonathan’s lips were at your ear, his voice a cruel, cold whisper, “Do you fear being at our mercy, detective?” he asked.

As he spoke, his fingers pinched at your nipples, tugging lightly on the swollen bud. You gasped, jerking slightly into Edward’s mouth, but his grip on your thighs tightened, digging his fingers in as he continued to work you with his mouth and tongue. Jonathan rolled the soft bud of your nipple between two fingers, playing with it, twisting lightly. Another soft gasp escaped your lips as your head fell back further, resting against his shoulder.

“Knowing that you’re completely powerless to stop us?” he continued, his breath tickling your skin. “Powerless to the way your body responds to us?”

A low whine escaped your lips. Your brain was a fog of complete pleasure, all thoughts vanished somewhere far away, where you may never find them again. Edward’s fingers moved at a furious pace inside of you as his tongue continued to lick at your clit in slow, meticulous strokes. Pleasure bundled in your core, spreading a wildfire across your skin. You couldn’t form any words, any thought, any care other than drowning in the way Edward fucked you with his tongue while Jonathan played with your breasts, toying at your nipples, his breath hot in your eat. His other hand grabbed at your chin, his fingers trailing upwards towards your mouth.

“Open,” he said, a sharp command.

You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth, and he stuck his first two fingers inside. You could taste your own wetness on his fingers, sweet.

“Suck,” he said.

You closed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue along the long, dexterous digits, continuing to taste your own juices on his fingers. His other hand continued to palm at your breast, twisting your nipples in a painful, yet pleasurable way that made you gasp around his fingers. Suddenly, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his hand resting once more around your throat, and he squeezed lightly. A bolt of fear ran down your spine, melding together with the pleasure growing and bundling like a tightening rubber band in your core, threatening to snap, to make you come undone for a third time.

Jonathan looked into your eyes; his own were dark and clouded, filled with that same cold cruelty, as if you were nothing but his own toy to play with. His grip on your throat tightened, and the pleasure in your clit only surged higher. With one hand, you reached forward, gripping your hand tightly into Edward’s hair, urging him to continue as you arched your back, beckoning your soaking cunt further into his mouth. He continued, eagerly sucking on your clit now, and you felt that little bundle of pleasure grow – before it burst completely.

A low cry escaped your lips as your whole body wracked against his mouth, hot-white ecstasy surging through your entire body. You cursed under your breath as your body shook and writhed, your orgasm washing over you, making your toes curl. You tugged at Edward’s hair, whispering his name, losing yourself as you relaxed against Jonathan’s chest, crying out. But just as quickly as it came, the pleasure began to wane. Edward pulled away after a moment, gazing up at you, his lips coated in your wetness. He smirked as he stood up, looking rather pleased with himself.

His eyes flickered to Jonathan. “See, Crane? I didn’t hear her crying out your name.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you swallowed, trying to gain your composure. Heat bundled in your womanhood, a pleasurable sensation tingling at your clit; your whole body felt spent and worn, and sweat beaded down your forehead, between the valley of your breasts.

Jonathan made a sound of amusement. “No need to compete, Edward. I’m sure your little toy has enjoyed both of us. Isn’t that right, pet?” He squeezed at your throat again.

Your eyes snapped open, and you looked between them, unable to find the words as you continued to try and catch your breath.

“Well?” Jonathan asked, raising a brow, an expectant look on his face.

“Yes,” you whispered, struggling to find your voice.

“But who did you enjoy more?” Edward asked, raising his own brows. You could see the look in his eyes – the desperation for your approval, for you to choose him.

Well, you had to admit, there was something more pleasurable about him using his tongue instead of making you do it yourself. His question caught you off guard, but you couldn’t help the sly smile that curved at the corners of your mouth. Meeting his eyes, you said, “You, Edward. I enjoyed you more.”

“Ha! Take that, Crane!” Edward cried, smiling triumphantly.

A laugh threatened to bubble up out of your chest, but you swallowed it down. Jonathan made a sound, almost of disapproval, and his fingers only dug further into your throat, making you squirm. It was a little painful, just enough to cause you to tremble in fear, but not enough to frighten you completely. You just felt the tips of his nails grazing against your soft skin, threatening to scrape against your flesh.

Jonathan’s mouth was suddenly at your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. “Such a naughty pet, playing us against each other…is that anyway to behave?”

You pursed your lips. A thousand words hung on your tongue, but you couldn’t help yourself – you were in too deep, too far gone with pleasure and lust and desire to think about anything else other than what was happening right now, in this very room, with these two men. They offered you something you’d never been given before: pleasure and attention like you’d never had, never seen, as they worshipped you like you were something to be cherished.

But you couldn’t help the bratty remark that left your lips, “It is when you two decided to go behind my back and make this little arrangement,” you said, quietly, voice barely a breath.

That made a low chuckle rumble from Edward’s throat. “Fair enough. But now I believe you’re just being a naughty little tease, aren’t you, detective?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your smirk growing. You couldn’t help it – the very idea of being here with both of these dangerous men, who both wanted you…it was terrifying and exciting all the same, and a part of you wanted to see just how much you could push their buttons.

It was Jonathan’s turn to let out a sound of amusement, as his lips reached the shell of your ear once more, his tongue snaking out to brush across your ear, making you tremble as he said, “On the couch now, pet.”

Your gaze flickered to the other side of the room, where there was a small couch resting in the corner. Edward took a step back, helping you to your trembling feet, as you wandered over to the couch. You felt the dampness between your thighs, and your breasts hung with a heavy swell, your whole body flushed, nipples pert and pink.

“Sit,” Jonathan said. Another sharp command.

You nodded, turning back to face them, and you sunk onto the couch. Just as you did, Jonathan walked forward; he got down onto his knees and grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide, once more revealing your wet cunt to him. You gasped slightly as his nails dug into your flesh, and he glanced up at you.

“Now, pet,” he said. “I want you to stay focused. No getting distracted now.”

As he spoke, you watched Edward unzip his own trousers, pulling his own engorged, swollen cock from his pants. Your breath hitched in your throat as another wave of desire passed over you, making you shudder. Edward took a step closer, holding his shaft in hand, as he gave himself a few slow, measured strokes. But before you could say anything, Jonathan’s mouth was suddenly at your clit now, sucking the swollen, over sensitive bud.

“Fuck,” you cursed out, jolting back, but his hands dug further into your thighs to keep you still. He glanced up at you, his eyes cold and cruel, the warning within them clear.

Your gaze shifted back to Edward again; his cock was swollen, precum dripping from the red tip. You immediately opened your mouth, greedy, and grabbed onto his shaft, taking his head into your mouth. You licked at his head while swallowing him as deep as you could go – but at the same time, Jonathan continued to lap at your clit like a starved animal, greedy and sloppy, his tongue working overtime. Small bursts of pleasure bundled in your core, alighting a fire in your belly, and your already sensitive clit was at it’s peak. Edward tasted of salt and skin, and you groaned as Jonathan sucked on your clit. A soft curse escaped Edward’s lips as he titled his head back, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair, pulling tight on the strands.

You pulled back for air, a low curse escaping your own lips, “Fuck…”

Just as you stopped, so did Jonathan. He pulled back slightly, glancing up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. “I believe I didn’t tell you to stop, yes?”

“I—” But before you could get a word out, one of his hands came up and smacked at your clit. You yelped in pain and pleasure, too overstimulated to think straight.

“Continue,” Jonathan said. There was no warmth in his voice.

With just that one command, his mouth latched onto your clit again, and you took Edward back into your mouth. You worked him with your tongue and hand, groaning and moaning around his cock in tandem with the way Jonathan sucked and tongued at your clit. Heat ignited inside of you, burning like a wildfire in your belly, spreading through your every vein and muscle, clouding your every thought. Jonathan’s fingers entered you slowly, pumping in an out of you slowly, fucking you, and you pulled back for air again, gasping, a low moan escaping your lips – but once more, he smacked at your clit, and you cried out. An embarrassed flush crept along your skin and up your throat, burning your cheeks.

“She likes it when you smack her ass,” Edward said, rolling his eyes at Jonathan. Smirking, he grabbed onto you, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You held your breath as you braced yourself against the couch, and for a moment, all you felt was air – before Edward’s hand came down in a swift smack on your left ass check. You cried out, gasping, as the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room.

A ripple of delicious heat bundled in your core, and you held back your smile. There was something so naughty about being punished like this – being punished between them. Jonathan gripped your chin, turning your head slightly, and you realized he’d pulled his own cock from the confines of his pants, stroking himself now. You greedily took him into your mouth next, tasting the familiarity of skin and salt and sweat. Edward’s lips and fingers found themselves once more at your dripping hole, lapping at your clit, fucking you with his fingers. Another low groan escaped your lips as you felt Edward’s fingers curl inside of you, finding every delicious spot of pleasure that made you moan against Crane’s cock. Jonathan stared down at you, showing no sign of emotion on his face as you took him as deep as you could, almost gagging in the process. As you pulled back for air, you gasped, trying to fill your deprived lungs of oxygen – but the hesitation was enough, and you felt a second swift smack to your ass.

“Ah!” you cried out, shuddering at the pain radiating through your ass cheek. You let out a soft whine, before your mouth found Jonathan’s cock once more. This time, he began thrusting his hips slightly, using your mouth as if it was his own personal fuck toy.

You groaned around his cock again, tightening your hands into the couch, as Edward sucked on your swollen, sensitive bud, furiously pumping his fingers in and out of you. But just as you felt that bundle of pleasure building inside of you, Jonathan pulled back, his cock glistening with your saliva. At the same time, Edward paused his own movements, one of his hands gently gliding over the smooth slope of your ass in a comforting, soothing motion. You sucked in air, nerves tightening in your belly, wondering just what they had in store next. Edward slipped away from you, rising to his own feet, his swollen cock hanging in front of him. You watched as Jonathan reached into his suit coat and pulled out a condom from his pocket. He quickly ripped the foil, and rolled the condom onto his cock, until it was at the base of his shaft, where a soft patch of brown curls was. When he looked back at you, you averted your gaze, almost shyly, knowing what was coming next. Jonathan walked over to the couch, positioning himself behind you, one knee resting on the couch while his other leg steadied himself. He rested one hand on your hip, gently trailing along the curve of your ass, before he gripped tightly, nails digging in. You hissed between your teeth, a soft moan of pleasure escaping your lips as the pain made way for pleasure and heat. And that’s when you felt it – the head of his cock pushing into you, slowly, as he teased himself against your folds.

“Beg, detective,” he said, another order. Another cruel command. “Beg for it, pet.”

You were trembling now, bracing yourself, fingers digging into the couch cushions. You felt his body hovering over yours, warmth radiating off his skin, his breath heavy and ragged. You could just feel all the raw, primal energy coiled tightly inside of him, waiting to be unleashed upon you. There was no room for refusal in his authoritative, animalistic tone, as if he was barely containing himself any longer. Fear erupted in your core, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh and a chill to creep up the back of your neck. There was something about the change of tone in his voice, how low it had dropped, that made your insides coil with terror. You glanced up to find Edward taking his place at your front, his cock just at your mouth, awaiting you to take him back in and suck him off.

Jonathan teased the tip of his cock at your entrance again. “Come now, pet,” he said, almost a cruel purr. “You want this, don’t you? To be needed and craved and wanted by both of us at the same time?”

“….yes,” you whispered, almost choking out the word. “Please, please fuck me…”

“Say my name,” Jonathan said, his lips at your ear, body hovering over yours.

“Jonathan,” you whispered. “Jonathan please…” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling his fingers digging tightly into your hips.

“Not that name,” he hissed, tightening his grip.

You paused, feeling the breath knock from your lungs as you realized exactly what he wanted. Slowly, you peeled your eyes open, and you whispered that name he was so desperate to hear, “Please…Scarecrow, please…”

With just that one word, a deep sound of satisfaction rumbled out of his mouth – and he thrust into you. You gasped, crying out at how easily he filled you, how full he made you feel.

You felt his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “Good girl.” A sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, trembling, as his hands roamed over you, before he grabbed onto your hips again. He pulled out slowly – almost completely – before slamming back into you again. You cried out at the thickness of him, at how he took you with an unrestrained desire. He slammed into you again and again, and you glanced up to find Edward watching, holding his cock in his hand; his gaze dropped to you, and you opened your mouth, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to buck his hips into your mouth as Jonathan fucked you from behind. Your mind went completely blank as you were fucked relentlessly – you could think of nothing but their mouths and tongues and hands and cocks – completely filling you with pleasure, making you see stars. Edward bucked his hips into your mouth, and you breathed through your nose, trying to control your breathing. Low grunts escaped Jonathan’s lips as he slammed his hips into you, rutting into you with the desperation of a man chasing his own release. With each thrust, he filled you completely, slamming right into that spot inside of you. The sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room, melding together with each gasp and grunt and groan. The sounds of pleasure out of their mouths was like music to your ears, filling you with your own satisfied pleasure at knowing you were the cause of their undoing’s, that you had turned these men into such messes. You were the very reason they were here, wanting you, needing you, craving you, desiring you – and in that moment, you never wanted it to end. The couch creaked with each movement, each thrust, and you felt Jonathan’s balls slapping against your ass while Edward’s slapped against your face. They both grabbed at you, pawing at you with almost a primal need, as if they couldn’t get enough of you – as if their own obsessions with you were growing more dangerous, more unbridled, more desperate.

And somehow, someway, you began to feel it in return. A desperation for both of them, to be at their mercy, to be used like their own plaything and toy. You gasped around Edward’s cock again as Jonathan continued to fuck you, his hips bucking into you, and you felt yourself spiraling out of your own control, out of whatever shred of sanity you had left. Jonathan hissed between his teeth, slowing his thrusts, now taking you deeper, pushing himself all the way inside of you. Edward pulled out of your mouth enough for you to get air, sucking in a deep breath, and you hung your head; it was taking every ounce of your control to keep yourself propped up on your hands and knees, to keep yourself from falling into a heap of pleasure and exhaustion. The room was thick with hot tension and desire, a heavy heat radiating across every inch of your sweat, flushed skin. It was as if their silent agreement extended into each other, as if they were one mind, using you in tandem, taking what they wanted from you.

Edward shoved his cock into your mouth again, and you swallowed with greedily, sucking him off, licking your tongue up and down his shaft. He bucked his hips into your mouth and grabbed onto your breasts, fondling them, pinching and pulling at your nipples. You felt his thrusts suddenly become more sloppy, more desperate, and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth as he came – spilling his seed down your throat. A loud groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering closed. You swallowed his cum, feeling some of it dribble down your mouth as the rutting of his hips stilled as deep into your mouth as he could go. The bitter taste of his seed filled your mouth, and you swallowed as much of him as you could before he pulled out. His cock was covered in a mix of his own release and your saliva, and he sat back, gasping, trying to gain his composure, a sheen coating across his forehead.

It took you a moment to realize Jonathan had paused his thrusting, as if to allow Edward to finish, before he resumed. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back, his teeth nipping at your ear as he hissed, “Does it frighten you, detective? To be taken by the Scarecrow?”

His words made you tremble, and a low gasp escaped your lips. His words were possessive and dark, like he was staking a claim over you, letting you know that you were his just as much as you were Edward’s. You couldn’t form a coherent thought or sentence, too caught up in the way his cock continued to buck in and out of your dripping, wet cunt.

“Or does it excite you?” he continued. “Knowing you belong to both of us?”

In response, all you could give was a low whine, a gasp, and you squeezed your eyes shut. His words made you tremble, made your skin prickle with delicious heat. His words seemed to wrap around you, blanketing you in the fear and realization of what you were doing – and who you were doing it with – but at this moment, you didn’t even care.

“Answer me, pet,” he purred.

“Yes!” you gasped out, cursing under your breath once more as he pounded into you with a relentless frenzy. “Yes – fuck…please…”

“Good girl,” he whispered again. His hand loosened from your hair, traveling down to the base of your neck, where he gripped tightly. With a careful grip, he forced your head down, burying your face into the couch cushion. You gasped, gazing up at Edward as he watched, his cock now softening and hanging limp. You gritted your teeth, and with one final thrust, Jonathan groaned low and deep in his throat as he shoved himself as far into you as he could go. You felt his cock twitch, and warmth fill the end of the condom inside of you. You collapsed onto the couch, utterly spent, unable to move. Slowly, you felt Jonathan slip himself out of you, leaving you feeling empty.

“Such a good girl, detective,” Edward murmured. “Taking us both so well.” There was thick, dark satisfaction laced in his voice.

His words made your heart flutter with pride, as if you’d done something so good and well for them, satisfied them both, alighting a desperation inside of you that you didn’t even know you wanted. You laid there for a moment, trying to adjust to the afterglow and the mix of pleasure and pain swirling inside of you, trying to regain some sanity over the moment. You felt Jonathan shift behind you, and when you glanced back, he stood up. The condom was filled at the tip with white cum, and he wandered away, off towards a garbage can on the other side of the room. A quiet stillness filled the room, but the air was still heavy with tension.

“Are you all right?” Edward asked as Crane cleaned himself up.

“I’m…okay,” you whispered, trying to regain your composure. With Edward’s help, you lifted yourself up. Every part of your body was spent and sweaty, and you maneuvered yourself into a sitting position. You still tasted Edward’s cum on your tongue.

The moment almost didn’t feel real now that it was over. There was a strange absence inside of you now as you tried to register what you’d done, and the new dynamics between the three of you now. Slowly, you ran a hand through your hair, smoothing out the tangles. An embarrassed flush crept along your skin, and you looked down at your shaky, trembling legs. There was a part of you that was absolutely excited over what just happened – and just as equally terrified by the encounter, too.

A moment later, you finally lifted your eyes to see that both Edward and Jonathan had tucked their cocks back into their pants. You found Jonathan reaching down to gather up your thong and dress, and he approached you, holding them out for you. You mumbled a quick thank you, before Edward helped you to your feet, giving you the space to shimmy back into your clothes. As you did, you felt both their eyes on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the little bruises and teeth marks in your skin at their touches. A rumble of satisfaction erupted deep in your core, and you couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across your lips.

“Well,” you said, once you were dressed. “So…that happened.”

Edward chuckled deep in his throat. “Yes, detective, it did. Now, perhaps we should get you home, yes?”

You shot him a look, but nodded. You were desperate for a shower to wash off the sweat, but your gaze flickered back to Jonathan for a quick moment. He straightened out his suit coat and adjusted his tie, appearing as if this entire interaction had never happened at all.

“Until next time, detective,” Jonathan said, his voice dark and possessive. He turned on his heels and opened the door of the office, stepping back out into the hall.

You followed after him, but before you could step forward, Edward’s hand gripped your arm tight, his fingers digging into your skin. He lowered his mouth to your ear and whispered, “Just because I’ve agreed to share you with Crane doesn’t make you any less mine, do you understand?”

“Yes,” you murmured, a tingle creeping up your spine.

“Good,” he replied. Then he let you go and gave your ass a gentle smack. You shot him a look, smirking, but stepped into the hall. Edward followed you and shut the office door behind him. Quietly, the three of you walked back down the hall, an odd tenseness filling the air between the three of you, too many unspoken words dangling in the air.

But as you came back towards the party, you noticed Commissioner Cash peek his head out, searching both ways down the hall before his eyes landed on you. “Detective,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I was wondering where you’d run off to. These two aren’t giving you any trouble, are they?” He glanced between Edward and Jonathan with suspicion in his eyes.

You smiled. “Not at all, Commissioner. Not at all.”

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 20)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reader meet's Eris's mother, and Azriel offers a helping hand. An unexpected visitor comes to autumn, I cannot do summaries to save my life

warnings: graphic violence/torture, Cassian slander, tw B*ron sucking but also kinda slaying, implied SA, themes of depression, angst because apparently i can't write happy things

word count: 7.4k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: two chapters in one day to spoil y'all as thanks for waiting so long for part 19 lmao. sorry if this chapter seems slow, but the next two chapters are doozies so gear up!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19

read on ao3

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You barely heard the hushed voices of the servants as they fiddled with the wedding dress. Pins poked at your skin as adjustments to the garment were made, but you didn’t care. You simply stood there silently, staring at the husk of a female who looked like you in the mirror. Nobody had asked you anything – not for your opinion on the dress, how it felt, nothing. Not that you expected them to. They were all aiming to please Beron Vanserra, not you.

For the past week, you hadn’t heard from or seen Nesta. Or Eris. Ever since Malgorm paid you an unexpected visit that night, Eris had warned you that it would be too dangerous to meet up for the next while. That Malgorm was likely to be excited about his new bride, and the risk of him showing up unexpectedly was too great. You hadn’t even dared to use the bond to communicate with Nesta, for fear the magic would somehow be detected by Beron’s many complex wards.

Once again, you were completely alone.

It was hard not to fall back into that panic you felt when you had woken up in Rhysand’s dungeons. That same feeling of helplessness washed over you again and again, and you had no idea what to do. Nesta, Eris, and Azriel had all promised you that this marriage wouldn’t happen, but refused to let you in on any of their planning.

“It’s too risky,” Azriel had pointed out to you when you protested. “You cannot know anything about what we are planning. If Beron or Malgorm finds out, we cannot risk you being implicated.”

Naturally, you had bitched and complained about how they didn’t have a right to risk themselves for your safety, but it landed on deaf ears. One hard look from your mate was enough to make you shut up about the matter.

They had promised to do something, yet the wedding grew closer every day. Beron had originally planned for Eris and Nesta to be married first, but whispers from the servants informed you that Malgorm had insisted that his wedding be moved up as fast as possible so he could breed you sooner. The thought made you want to vomit. Shockingly, Beron had agreed, his apparent reasoning being it gave them more time to plan the grand wedding of his eldest son. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The dress was pretty – a thick satin gown made with the purest of white fabric, with long sleeves and a high neck. Gold thread was embroidered around the neckline, going down the bust and arms like tendrils of flame. It was a suitable wedding dress – definitely not as elaborate as Nesta’s would be, but befitting of a marriage within a royal family.

You had been completely overwhelmed the past week with the amount of servants flocking you to prepare for the wedding. They fiddled with your hair and makeup, poking and prodding you like you were a doll for dress up.

You shuddered to think of how much more chaotic it would be for Nesta and her wedding with Eris, the eldest. After all, Malgorm was only Beron’s second youngest. 

When you weren’t being prepared for the wedding, you spent your time alone in your room, laying on the bed and watching the raindrops trickle down the window. You dared not wander the halls to entertain yourself, the fear of running into Malgorm too great. Realistically, he knew where your room was so if he truly wanted to find you, nothing could stop him. But you did not want to take the unnecessary risk.

Every time you slept for the past week, your dreams were plagued by nightmares of Malgorm. You’d wake up in tears most of the time, yearning for Nesta’s comforting presence or Eris’s smooth words to soothe you. You could still feel his hand around your throat, the remnants of the bruises still visible.

Conveniently enough, the neckline of the dress was just high enough to cover those marks on your neck.

A quiet knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. The servants scurried into whatever formation was required of them seconds before the wooden door opened. You tore your gaze away from the mirror to see a petite female with long auburn hair entering your room. Her skin was pale as snow, covered in heavy green robes. A sheer gold veil covered her head, as if meant to hide her from the world. Her russet eyes landed on you and she let out a small smile.

“My lady.” One of the servants said in greeting, bowing her head. The female’s face was unreadable, a mask of boredom so similar to the one you saw Eris wear.

“Leave us, please.” Her voice was weak, as if she was not accustomed to using it. “I would like to spend some time with my daughter.”

Your heart ached at the Lady of Autumn’s words, even though you knew they weren’t entirely genuine. You missed your own mother so terribly, that hearing someone else refer to you as their daughter was bittersweet. 

The servants obediently trailed out of the room, closing the door behind them. You bowed your head respectfully, and when you met her eyes again you nearly crumpled. Gone was the Lady’s mask of boredom. It was replaced by one of sadness and pity, as if she were looking at a younger version of herself in the mirror. Lucien had told you about the horror his mother had endured under her husband’s cruelty, his stories making you shudder. How ironic it was now, that you were to be subjected to the same fate it seemed.

“Greetings, (Y/N),” She said. “I am the High Lord’s wife, Lirilla Vanserra. It is a pleasure to meet my son’s bride.”

A single tear fell down your cheek. The heavy fabric of the dress was stifling, and your lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. But you were too tired to properly cry. You had weeped for the first few nights, and it seemed your body was drained. All you could do was stand there numbly, letting that singular tear make its way down your blotchy skin.

“It is an honour to meet you, my Lady.” Your words did not feel like your own as you spoke them. “And a blessing to be engaged to your son.”

The look that Eris’s mother gave you was one that could only be described as utterly heartbreaking as she said, “Oh my sweet, I think we both know that is not true.”

You were taken aback by her bold words. Every time you had seen the Lady of Autumn this past week it had been like catching a glimpse of a ghost. She had never spoken, keeping her head down and scurrying around like a frightened mouse. While she still seemed frail, her bluntness surprised you. Perhaps Beron wasn’t the one who taught Eris to put on a mask.

“It’s alright, we may speak freely here.” Lirilla said, as if she could read your expression. “The guards at the door are loyal to me, and the ears of this castle do not reach this corridor. May we sit down?”

You nodded, following your future mother-in-law to the edge of the bed. She sat down elegantly, smoothing her skirts with the poise of a female ready for her appearance at court. You, on the other hand, were less graceful, pins stabbing you as you tried to collect the white skirt.

“That is a lovely dress,” Lirilla said. “Is it to your liking?”

“Yes.” You said. “I’m just not used to this much skirt and heaviness. I pray I do not trip on my way down the aisle.”

The Lady’s expression darkened, melancholic sadness shadowing her face. “I am sorry,” Her voice was quiet and hushed. “That you are to be wed to the cruellest of my sons. I do not know how you ended up in this situation, but it is clear that this marriage is against your will.”

You frowned. “The High Lord did not tell you my circumstances?”

Lirilla smiled sadly. “My husband does not tell me most things. And I suspect yours won’t either. Malgorm was, is, the most difficult of my children. I did my best to raise him to be a good male, but like almost all my other sons, he fell into the clutches of my husband too easily.”

“All except Lucien?” You asked tentatively, unsure if you were overstepping. A grave expression crossed her face for a moment, the pain of her youngest son’s banishment from her court evident.

“He told me about you, you know.” Lirilla’s russet eyes were glazed with the memories of the past. “That's why I came to see you. I had to make sure it was the same female that Lucien had befriended all those years ago. How is your family doing, my dear? Is your mom still baking for the local schools?”

Your heart sank, both at the memory of your family and the fact that Lirilla was so cut off from the events of the outside world. “They’re all dead,” You said solemnly. “Hybern attacked my village, and I was the only survivor.”

Her eyes widened with shock. You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to tell her everything as you remembered Azriel’s words. Begrudgingly, you knew he was right – as much as you wanted to break down and tell the Lady of Autumn everything, it was too risky. The less people who knew the better, and while the female had survived Beron’s cruelty for this long, you couldn’t bring yourself to be selfish enough to burden her with the knowledge of everything else that got you into this situation.

“I am terribly sorry,” Lirilla put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I wish I could say that things will get easier, but they won’t. Not with Malgorm. I do not wish to scare you, but I will not sit by and let you go into this marriage blind. Malgorm does not treat females kindly, including me. He will humiliate you, and cause you pain in more ways than one. I will do what I can to shield you from it, but I cannot stop this and for that I am sorry.”

You shook your head, fiddling with a pin in the white skirts. “No, I cannot ask that of you, my Lady. This suffering I am about to endure is mine to bear, and mine only. Please, do not put yourself in harm's way to try and protect me.”

Another devastatingly sad smile pulled at Lirilla’s lips. She gently reached up and stroked your cheek. “Oh, my love. I am in harm’s way every day in this castle. That will not change. You are to be my daughter, my first daughter. I may not be able to stand up for you, or even spend much time with you outside of stolen moments like this, but that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you however I can.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke. “I don’t want to marry him.”

“I know. But outside of this room, you must face it with a stiff lip. Any sign of reluctance will be punishable. Give Malgorm what he wants. He always gets what he wants in the end, and trying to resist does more harm than good. It is unpleasant, but that is the safest way to handle him.”

You shuddered at her words. You knew that she meant more than just fetching the male his afternoon tea, and your stomach churned. The breath you took trembled from effort to not cry. How had everything come to this?

“Oh honey…” Lirilla gently pulled you into her, wrapping her tiny arms around your trembling body as you let out a muffled sob. “Growing up, I always wanted a daughter. Yet now I have grown to fear the day I get blessed with a daughter-in-law, because I cannot bear to see this vicious cycle repeat over and over again for centuries.”

You cried into your mother-in-law’s arms, letting her warm embrace chase away the chill in your bones. You knew that once you were married, Malgorm would likely not leave you alone unsupervised, especially with his mother. This might just be your only chance to receive some sort of wisdom and comfort from the Lady of Autumn, so you held onto her tightly and let her stroke your hair.

“It’s ok, my child.” She soothed. “Be strong. If you are hurt, have one of the servants seek out the healer Doreah. She will be able to take the pain away and heal internal damage while ensuring the external wounds can still be seen by Malgorm. Should you need access to a safe place, take the first stairwell on the left all the way down into the basement. There is a library there with food, fresh clothes, and anything you need. The guards around it are loyal to me and will cover for you if your whereabouts are questioned. Nobody except for me and my most trusted staff knows about that place. I have had it glamoured by an old friend so that if anyone sees you going down the stairwell, it looks like you’re headed to the female-only bathing area. Not even my husband or Melgorm would follow you there.”

You felt Lirilla gently ease you out of her grip, sitting you upright. She pulled out a handkerchief and gently dried your face, muttering a spell and erasing all evidence of your crying. “I can hear Malgorm coming to visit you,” She whispered urgently. “Remember everything I’ve told you.”

The Lady of Autumn pulled away from you just in time as the door swung open, the uninvited visitor not even bothering to knock. Lirilla’s kind, pitying look had swiftly been replaced by her submissive, passive mask. She stood up hastily at her son’s arrival, bowing her head. “Malgorm,” She muttered, keeping her eyes on the floor. “It is bad luck to see your bride in her wedding dress before the–”

“Quiet.” Malgorm snapped at his mother, and she flinched as if she had been struck. You wondered how much of it was an act, and how much of it was genuine fear of her son. Malgorm’s amber gaze fixed on you greedily. “I don’t give a shit about such stupid tradition. I should be able to see my wife whenever I please. Now get out, father wants to see you.”

Lirilla nodded, gathering her skirts and hurrying past him like a ghost. Her feet made no sound on the floor as she left the room without a hint of a glance back. You were nervous, left alone with the cruel Vanserra brother. But you stood up and bowed your head, trying to mimic Lirilla’s submissive demeanour.

Malgorm made a disapproving sound as he eyed up your dress with disgust. “My father wants you to look pure and traditional,” He scoffed. “To have as much of your body covered up as possible. If it were up to me, you’d be walking down that aisle with your tits and cunt on display for everyone to see.”

Your face burned at his words, and you swallowed the bile in your throat and spoke as sweetly as possible, “I shall do whatever pleases you, my lord.”

Malgorm snickered, his dirty hand coming up to roughly yank a lock of hair out of your face. “That you shall. Luckily for you, this wedding is about pleasing my father. So you will be nice and covered up until the event is over.” He chuckled darkly, his hot breath fanning across your face as he leaned in too closely. “But the second it is over, you belong to me. And I will rip this pretty dress to shreds and stuff that tight cunt of yours every hour until you are bred. Understood?”

You nodded, even as the room swayed around you. “It will be a great honour to bear your child, my lord.” The words felt wrong on your lips, like oil had been poured in your mouth and choked you as it slid down your throat. You were saying what you had to say to keep him happy, you reminded yourself. Nesta and Eris would stop the wedding before it got to that point. Eris had reassured you that even Malgorm would respect the High Lord’s wishes to wait until you were wed to him to bed you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Malgorm was unhinged enough to do it anyways.

“I expect you to give me sons.” He said coldly. “If you dare curse me with a daughter, I will tear her from the cord and feed her to my brother’s hounds before you can even see her face.”

You swallowed thickly, fear making the hair on your arms raise at the image. You wondered if Eris had built a reputation that was so cruel his brother was sure he would have no qualms about letting his hounds murder a newborn child. The thought made you shudder. You knew Eris had to play a role to survive his father’s court, but you did not know how far he would go. And while you trusted him, that did not erase the inkling of fear.

“I shall pray day and night that the Mother blesses me with sons.” You managed to get the words out without stuttering, which you were happy with. Luckily, Malgorm seemed satisfied enough with you answer.

“Excellent.” He said smoothly, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a sharp knife. Your blood ran cold. “Now, let’s play.”

 *********************

You couldn’t be bothered to try and wipe the blood off your stomach. You had no energy, no strength to even curl your naked, bloody body up into a ball against the cold chill of the room. Your wedding dress was neatly hung up in the corner, Malgorm having been smart enough to get it out of the way before he went to work.

Your body stung with every cut from his blade. Most were shallow cuts that would heal in a day or so, but by the Mother there were so many of them. Your skin felt shredded, like a ruined canvas suffering the wrath of an angry artist. Malgorm had delighted in slicing his blade across your skin, avoiding your hands and face – the only parts of your body that would be visible in the wedding. You could still feel his wet mouth and tongue sliding over the wounds like a venomous snake, the sensation making you want to rip your ruined skin from your body.

Luckily, the male had obeyed his fathers command and not tried to fuck you. He kept his hands away from your centre, seemingly content to ruin other acceptable parts of your body instead. No doubt he wanted everything down there perfect and intact for the wedding night.

A soft shadow grazed your fingertip. It curled up your arm like a ribbon, coming to your face. It seemed to whisper words you couldn’t understand, especially in your lifeless state. “Az…” You murmured, his familiar scent on the small shadow that seemed to inspect your body.

A few moments later, you felt a presence standing over you. “By the Mother…” Came Azriel’s shocked voice. “What did he do to you...”

The shadowsinger emerged from the darkness, leaning down to inspect the dozens of wounds littered across your skin. His hazel eyes were filled with horror as a scarred hand grazed a cut on your collarbone. You watched helplessly as his eyes trailed down to the significant pool of blood beside you that trickled from a deep wound in your stomach.

Right where the letter ‘M’ was carved below your belly button, a few inches above your core.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about your nakedness in front of the shadowsinger. Malgorm had already begun to strip you of your dignity anyways. But Azriel quickly grabbed the blanket from the end of your bed, gently wrapping it around your body and hoisting you upright. You winced in pain. “We have to stop meeting like this, shadowsinger.” You croaked. “With me being tortured and all.”

Azriel snorted. “Stop getting yourself into these situations then.”

“Couldn’t help it.” Your reply was weak, but earned a slight twitch of the spymaster’s lips, a hint of a smile. “How’d you find me?”

Shadows skirted over your skin, their gentle coolness soothing the sting of the wounds and making you sigh in relief. “I was meeting with Nesta and Eris,” He answered. “She could feel something was wrong… through the bond. Eris sent me to see what happened.”

You frowned. The shadowsinger never stumbled over his words in the entire time you had known him. He already knew Nesta was your mate, so his stutter made you ask, “Why’d you say it like that?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel’s expression gave nothing away, but you could tell something was bothering him.

“What, you don’t like that two females are mates? Is that it?”

The Illyrian departed to your washroom, fetching a damp cloth as he responded. “No, no, Mother above, no. I take no issue with that and you know it.”

“Then what is it?”

Azriel sighed, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead as he returned and knelt down beside you. He carefully pulled back the blanket, revealing the bloody ‘M’ on your stomach. He pressed the wet cloth to the wound, gently cleaning it. “Something happened,” His tone was cautious, as if he wasn’t sure how much to say. “Between Nesta and Eris. It’s changed things slightly. They’re still trying to figure out how to end the engagement between you and Melgorm but… it’s difficult.”

“How so?” You frowned, trying to sit up straighter only to get gently pushed back down by Azriel. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Gods, I really do not wish to be involved in this little love triangle.”

“Well too bad,” You snapped, ignoring the sting of your wounds and fixing him a glare. “Because you already are. So tell me.”

“I can’t decide if you’d be the worst interrogator in Prythian or the best.” Azriel grumbled, moving the cloth to begin wiping down the wounds on your left arm.

“Stop dodging the question.”

“It’s really something they should be the ones to tell you–”

“For fuck’s sake, if I have to march out of this room bloody and naked to find Nesta and Eris so help me I will actually do it.”

Azriel glared at you, snarling. “You’re fucking insufferable, you know that?”

You shrugged, tilting your head and waiting for him to tell you exactly what happened. The shadowsinger let out a sigh, and began cleaning your other arm as he spoke. “Remember how you said that Estelle mentioned Nesta had more than one mate, but Cassian was not one of them?”

You nodded.

“I guess that really is true, because a mating bond snapped for her the other day apparently. Between Nesta and Eris.”

Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t describe the emotions that rushed through you at Azriel’s words. It wasn’t the surge of mately jealousy you expected, nor was it anger per se. Sure, Nesta and Eris were a strong political match, but mates? The thought had never even crossed your mind. But it made sense, in some wicked way. Nesta and Eris had similar magic, and could both hold their own in a court of vipers. Perhaps they truly would make strong offspring, which you supposed was the main reason mates were created. Or so you had been told.

Azriel’s brow was furrowed at your silence. “You don’t seem surprised.”

You shrugged, trying to calm your racing mind. “Not entirely. Better it be Eris than someone potentially worse. It will work well in their favour, I suppose.”

The spymaster’s normally unreadable face was riddled with confusion. If you were not in pain, you’d have laughed at his expression. He shook his head, continuing to dab at the wounds on your chest as he spoke. “I do not understand,” Azriel continued. “When the bond snapped between Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and I could barely look at Feyre without him snarling at us. I may not have a mate, but I know mates are supposed to be utterly possessive of one another. Why are you not enraged that your mate has another bond?”

You sighed. Azriel would never truly understand – it was obvious that a mating bond was something he desired greatly. For Nesta to have not only one, but two mating bonds surely brought him discomfort. And truthfully, while you were certainly experiencing a whirlwind of emotions at the new information, none of them were associated with anger or jealousy. 

Love comes in many forms and unexpected ways, your mother had once told you. Those words had stuck by you all these years, and growing up in Spring had exposed you to all different kinds of relationships. Males had courted males, females had courted females, and you had often heard stories of an individual having multiple courtings, all of which was done with nothing but love, devoid of possessiveness or jealousy. 

“Nesta is someone who has not experienced nearly as much love as she should,” You began, meeting Azriel’s hazel gaze. “She is my mate, and nothing will ever change that. There is nothing she can do that will make me love her any less. But I don’t believe the amount of love an individual can receive should be restricted to one person. If Eris is her mate and can grow to love her, what kind of mate would I be to want it denied from her? Nesta deserves all the love that the world can offer her, and if that comes from both me and Eris then I do not see how that could be a bad thing.”

The Illyrian was quiet for a moment, his shadows swirling around his neck as if they, too, were deep in thought. “You make it sound so simple.” He said after a minute. 

“Because it is. Nesta and Eris had a connection before the bond snapped into place. They are good for each other, and you know it. You just need to get past your one sided hatred for the male and see it.”

Anger sparked in Azriel’s face. “And what about Cassian?”

“What about him?”

“He loves Nesta. You claim that the Mother… Estelle… told you that Cassian was not one of Nesta’s mates. But there is something between them, both he and Nesta know it. He loves her.”

You curled your fingers into fists, nails biting the sweaty flesh of your palm. “Cassian is no concern of mine.” You snarled at the shadowsinger. “He is for Nesta to deal with. And he is not in love with her, he loves the idea of being with her. You aren’t a fool, Azriel. Every interaction they have turns into a battle, with Cassian making it his mission to push her buttons and disrespect her boundaries. Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me that they are a better match than Nesta and I? Or Nesta and Eris?”

He opened his mouth as if to instinctively defend his brother, but nothing came out. “Thought so.” You continued. “If Feyre and Rhys were not mates, you all would not be pushing for Nesta to be with Cassian as hard as you have. You act like she has to become worthy of his love, as if he is some perfect male. He’s 500 years old, quit making excuses for him and his shitty behaviour.”

Azriel put the blood soaked cloth down, gently pulling the blanket back over your shivering form to cover your body once again. You pitied the male slightly, guilt creeping in for the position he had gotten himself into. You knew Azriel had been loyal to Rhysand for five centuries, and it was clear that this was the first time he felt truly torn. 

“If Cassian and Nesta are not mates, then why did Rhys make such a statement?” Azriel asked, turning his body so he sat beside you. A giant wing gently grazed your blanket covered shoulder, as if to provide some sort of comfort. “Does he truly believe they are mates, or was it a lie? I cannot think of why he would lie about something that big.”

“I can.” You snorted, earning an eye roll from Azriel.

“I will not deny my brother’s horrid actions,” He protested, voice edged with anger. “But he loves Cassian, and lying to him about the mating bond–”

“Would be a way to try and lure Nesta back to the Night Court.” You interrupted the shadowsinger. “A means to control her, and convince her to stay.”

Azriel shook his head, scarred hands fiddling with the hilt of his dagger. “You don’t understand. You know Nesta, but I know Cassian. He’s been acting like a male whose mate has been taken from him. His behaviour is erratic and unreasonable, more so than he has ever been. I cannot think of an explanation for that aside from a mating bond, (Y/N). Besides, he can feel her somehow. There’s something tying them together.”

“I believe the Mother more than your High Lord. If she says that Cassian is not Nesta’s mate, then I believe her.” Truthfully, Azriel’s confession about Cassian’s mood lately unsettled you, having lined up with Emerie and Gwyn’s note about the general being unhinged. You had to admit, they sounded like the actions of a distressed mated male. Azriel was right, something was tying them together. You just didn’t know what.

“Regardless, that bears little relevance to the situation currently.” The spymaster said, echoing your thoughts as he steered away from the uncomfortable topic. “You are set to be married to Malgorm by the end of next week. Nesta and Eris are to be wed soon after. Eris is coming up with a plan to stop your wedding, and I suspect killing his father as well. There is no chance that he will be able to defy Beron and end your engagement and get away with it. Beron has to be eliminated, it is the only way to ensure your safety.”

You felt ill. Killing Beron was something you hadn’t thought of as much in light of the problems of the foreseeable future. It only doubled the risk of everything, trying to execute two life-altering plans within such a short window. You didn’t even know if he and Nesta were ready to take on a High Lord. Sure, they were incredibly powerful fae, but Beron had centuries of experience on them. He was cruel, but not stupid.

Eris was risking his entire plan to become High Lord to ensure you weren’t made to marry his cruel younger brother.

Shadows wisped around your face, as if they could hear your thoughts. Beside you, Azriel remained stoic, but spoke softly. “Eris cares about you, too.”

“Sometimes I think I understand him, and other times I feel like I could not be more wrong.” You sighed, tightening your grip on the stained blanket. “He’s a male whose actions are driven by his own secret agenda. I understand how helping Nesta fits into it, but me? Helping me is a courtesy, a generous one even for him. I… I don’t understand why he’s risking so much for me, unless it’s all because Nesta is his mate too.”

“There might be more to Eris Vanserra than I could have ever imagined. Whether that is for better or for worse, I do not know. I will not lie, it makes me uneasy that your fate will be in his hands. But for some reason you have trusted him this far. Time will tell if that trust has been misplaced.”

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it was because you shared a mate with him, a commonality that would keep you united no matter what. Or perhaps it was that foolish part of your brain that fancied the eldest Vanserra brother from a distance, who had teasingly called you his little fox on the rare occasion he ran into you with Lucien. 

You shivered as another chilly gust of wind seeped into the room through the cracked window. It soothed your still stinging wounds beneath the blanket, but you wrapped the fabric even tighter around you. “Whatever Eris is planning, I hope it works.” You mumbled.

“Me too.” Azriel said dryly. “For all our sake.”

 *********************

You tried to keep your breathing steady as you stood on the second step of the dias below Beron’s throne. Grand torches lined the red and gold carpet leading up to the throne, illuminating the tapestries lining each wooden wall. 

It had been mid morning when the servants flooded your room, scrambling to get you ready for an appearance in court. When you frantically asked what the fuss was about, you were surprised when you received an answer.

“His Grace has received an unexpected visitor,” The oldest of the servants said in a hushed tone. “You and your betrothed are expected with the rest of the family to greet them.”

It had taken less than five minutes for your hair to be done and your dress to be fitted properly before a set of guards had escorted you to the throne room. Upon entering, you had snuck a glance at the other figures on the dias. Lirilla stood left beside the seated High Lord, her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. Eris and Nesta were on Beron’s right, one step below. Both adorned royal outfits in similar shades of red, each wearing an almost identical mask of boredom. Nesta’s arm was linked through Eris’s as a formality, but you noticed how tense she was. Her breathing was shallow, as if being in such close proximity to Eris was too much. Luckily, it appeared to be something only you noticed. To everyone else, they appeared the stone-cold politically arranged couple they were meant to be.

You had tried to reach out to Nesta through the bond, but were met with a wall of stone. You tried not to let it sting as she shut you out, choosing to focus on keeping your expression neutral as you held onto Malgorm’s arm the same way Nesta was with Eris’s. It felt wrong, and every part of you wanted to recoil at his touch. Your skin still felt flayed from the events of last night, but as predicted the dress that Malgorm undoubtedly chose for you this morning covered up all evidence of his actions.

So you fought through the pain, ignoring the sneering looks of Beron’s other sons whose names you did not know. You were almost grateful when harsh words from the High Lord threatening punishment to his offspring put them in line.

The tension in the room was thick. You hadn’t dared try and look back towards Nesta and Eris, not with Beron breathing down your necks. It was only a few minutes after the Vanserra family had gotten in formation when the heavy doors to the throne room opened, and the High Lord of the Night Court strode in.

Your mouth went dry. Your mind flashed with images of that forsaken dungeon, the dark tendrils of the High Lord’s power carving through your skin like butter. Was he here to snatch you away? Piercing violet eyes landed on you as Rhysand approached the foot of the dias, swarming with a mixture of fury and confusion. Nevertheless, he bowed his head to Beron. “High Lord,” Rhys said smoothly. “You are looking well.”

You weren’t fooled by the feigned respect. Luckily, Beron wasn’t either, and you heard the male scoff. “Do not bother yourself with false pleasantries, we both know you don’t actually mean them.” Beron said coldly, his aged voice echoing through the throne room like the power of an ancient god. “Give me one reason why I should not execute you for entering my territory without permission.”

Rhys straightened his shoulders, cocking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he met Beron’s words with a cool tone. “Last I checked, meetings of diplomacy were still favourable between two High Lords, were they not?”

“And yet you have no excuse for the uninvited part.”

“I fear my concerns were too urgent and important to notify you in advance.” Rhys’s voice was saccharine, a veil to disguise his true intentions. On a younger, more inexperienced High Lord, it may have worked. But once again, you found yourself strangely grateful for Beron Vanserra. The older male saw right through his words, and would not be afraid to challenge him.

“And what is so important you had to barge in on my court uninvited?” Beron growled, the flames from the torches along the carpet flaring slightly.

Rhysand’s face was smug, and he looked at you directly as he spoke. “You have in your midst a valuable asset of mine. I want her back.”

A cold pit formed in your stomach as you met his stare evenly, despite your bones trembling beneath his gaze. You were right – Rhys had come to spin some lie about you that was designed to make Beron hand you over to the Night Court. You were a fly trapped in a web, and your hand clenching nervously around Malgorm’s arm was not entirely for show.

“Do explain.” Was all the High Lord of Autumn said in a bored tone.

“The female standing at the bottom of the dias belongs to me. Your eldest son infiltrated my court and kidnapped her on the full moon. He is holding her here against her will in a pathetic attempt to hold leverage over me. I ask that you punish Eris Vanserra for his insubordination and return Lady (Y/N) to me, so I can bring her home where she belongs.”

Your blood ran cold. Rhys wasn’t just trying to get you back, but Nesta as well. He wanted to take down Eris in the process, which would force Beron to not only send you back to the Night Court, but Nesta too since the engagement would be broken off and she would have nothing tying her to Autumn. Panic began to stir inside you. This couldn’t be happening. You braced yourself for Beron’s wrath, demanding Eris be brought to the dungeons for immediate questioning.

But instead, the cruel male just laughed. A bitter, hoarse sound like a broken instrument. “That was a pathetic excuse of a story, even for you, Rhysand.” Beron said, making the Night Court Lord blink in surprise. “Not even well crafted. How dare you come into my court and attempt to manipulate me?”

You heard Beron rise in his throne, and the torches began to flare angrily as the High Lord’s temper rose. “I am no fool. I know that you are only here because you’re desperate from losing your spy that had valuable intel on you. A spy who fled your clutches seeking sanctuary with me because of what you did to her.”

“I did nothing.” Rhys said, which angered Beron even more.

“You lie again! I am well aware that the girl was trained as a spy against her will to repay her debt to you. You were an immature fool to trust a prisoner to spy for you, which is one of the many reasons your court is run so poorly. I saw the wounds you inflicted on her, boy, when she found out you planned to take the title of High King.”

Rhys’s expression revealed shock for a split second, the loss of composure making you laugh internally. You hadn’t expected Beron to defend you so vehemently, especially against another male. But you still clung to every breath nervously as he continued to speak.

“Have you not considered that this information she so eagerly gave you might be a ploy to get you to wage war on my court?” Rhysand said carefully.

“So you admit then that your story was false?” Beron had impressively backed Rhys into a corner, catching him in his lie. “That she was indeed your spy turned rogue?”

Rhys had the nerve to shrug. “All that matters is that she is a member of my court, and I demand you release her to me.” He kept his tone neutral, but you could feel the desperation coming off of him in waves.

“My daughter is no longer a member of your court.”

Rhysand’s face blanched visibly at Beron’s words. He went utterly still, even the pulsing aura of power that always seemed to be around him quieting. His violet eyes found you again, but you kept your chin high. He glanced down at your arm entwined with Malgorm’s, who was no doubt smirking proudly at Rhys. It was strange, hearing Beron refer to you as his daughter. 

“What?” The High Lord of the Night Court said quietly.

“As a reward for her bravery in fleeing your grasp, and for the useful information she so willingly provided us with, I have given her the honour of marrying my son Malgorm. She is my daughter now, and you will not take her from me.”

You felt an invisible hot flame on your arm, undoubtedly the power of the High Lord. It beckoned you, pulling you towards the throne where he had seated himself once again. Malgorm had seemingly felt it too, for he guided you up the steps to where Beron sat. You looked into the eyes of the High Lord for the first time. His hair was slicked back identical to Malgorm’s, but faded to an ashy grey in contrast to his son’s fiery red. His sharp face took you in, amber eyes glowing like a snake in the dark. He extended a hand towards you, fingers clad in rings more expensive than everything your village in Spring had owned put together. You smiled as you took it, ensuring you looked grateful. To further paint the image of Beron’s new daughter, you lowered your head and gently kissed his aged hand as a sign of respect for your father-in-law. 

Beron looked at you proudly, pulling you closer so you were standing right next to him. His hand was clammy and his grip was ironclad, but you showed no signs of resistance. Malgorm took up his post slightly behind you, an arm on the small of your back in a display of ownership.

Rhysand’s mask had slipped entirely as you stared defiantly down at him, disgust and shock written all over his features. He had not even given Nesta and Eris a second glance, his fury towards you overriding his diplomatic practices. But you did not feel frightened, not with Nesta, Eris, and especially Beron in the same room.

Nothing would happen to you. Beron would protect you for his own selfish reasons, but it was reassuring nonetheless.

“My eldest son did not kidnap the girl.” Beron said coldly, his grip on your hand never faltering. “The day you claim it happened, Eris was assigned to meetings with my courtiers from sunup to sundown, all of whom can act as witness.”

You pushed down your confusion – Eris was most definitely not in meetings that day, and how he had managed to pull this alibi off was something you would have to ask him about later.

Beron continued, authority strong in his voice. “She came to me willingly, and I have welcomed her with open arms. I know who she is – a girl from the Spring Court whom you rescued then used as a pawn in one of your little games, only for her to outsmart you in the end. Never again will my daughter fall into suffering under your hands, Rhysand. If you try to do anything to harm her or remove her from my territory, I will burn your entire court to the ground. Just as I will do if you ever think of claiming the title of High King of Prythian.”

Beron spat the title out, his power filling the room. “You are an immature boy playing games you don’t understand,” He continued dangerously. “And any attempt at seizing lordship over this land will be met with the slaughter of everything you hold dear. I will erase your name from the history books, and there will be nobody left to remember Amarantha’s Whore. And if you think any of the other High Lords would bow down to you, your arrogance is even more stupid than I thought. Now get out of my court, half-breed. And do not return.”

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[onesidedradiostatic]

Re: Vox’s outfits

1. The two pictures are literally the “friendship ended with Mudasir” meme, which is great

2. In the Alastor era photo, Vox definitely wearing a similar shoulder style.

3. The Val era fit is also very 70s: turtleneck, leather(?) vinyl(?) jacket. So could either be evidence of Vox changing to better match Valentino, or just a sign of Vox keeping up with the times

4. Heartbreaking crack theory:

4a. Vox getting his own jacket to mimic Alastor’s is cute, but what if Alastor got that suit jacket for Vox, (eg Alastor brought Vox along while he was getting his own tailoring done)

4b. and Vox has kept it despite their falling out,

4c. Vox dug it out of storage after Alastor disappeared and that’s what he’s wearing now. Only because there was a business suit power vacuum and totally not for any other reasons no way. Vox trying to explain it away as “One of us has to look professional!” He so easily could have gone the route of steve-jobs-tech-ceo outfit, kept up with the times. But he’s chosen not to….. sus

(reference to my analysis on vox's outfits through the years)

1. LMAO I spent time doing a shitty edit because of this

2. yep seems like it, only thing I'm unsure of is if the pinstripes are on the val picture too and just not visible due to the quality (for example there's a stripe that goes down his sleeve that I missed at first glance), but the jacket in the val picture is definitely different from the one he has now

3. no comment on this since I can't really tell rn, but a possibility! the red of the turtleneck sweater does seem to match val's wings + hat here

4. I like all of these!! but yeah just. the likeness of his outfit to alastor connecting back to their past friendship in some way

[lizzieislife94x]

Special Guest (e.o)

Requested ❤️

 LizziexFem Reader

GirlxGirl

Legal age gap Lizzie is her normal age y/n is just say 22-23 This has bully reference incase anyone is effected. 

This is over 2.5k words I apologise if it makes no sense I was just typing and typing lmao and I'm hungover so you can't hold it against me if it sucks😂

Y/ns POV: 

"OK class we have a special guest arriving after lunch to help with bullying in schools so best behaviour" I hear the teacher yell I slouch and avoid eye contact with anyone I've been dealing with a few bullies recently mostly shoving and saying mean things I just don't understand why I let out a sigh keeping myself to myself as I feel a piece of paper hit my head I look down and open it "just drop out already no-one wants you here" don't let them get to you y/n I put my head down and pull my sleeves over my hands after 30 minutes the teacher leaves oh god please come back I can't help but think, it's the only time they don't bother me as much is when the teacher is here "y/n your such a freak leave just drop out" Sarah the popular girl says as she shoves my shoulder while her 3 friends surround me "can we not do this today why are you acting like a child just leave me alone please I don't bother you guys I keep to myself I've never said anything mean to you" I whisper as they laugh "you being here is bother me it's bothering us" she smirks I sniff and lower myself in my seat as the teacher and special speaker walk in but I don't realise neither do the popular girls "go back home freak go back to home schooling" she goes to lift her hand to hit me as we hear the teacher yelling "Sarah, Gail, Sophie, Danni" we all freeze I wait for my name to be shouted but it doesn't come "what do you 4 think your doing!! My office after class what did I say bulling is not tolerated here' I feel a tear leave my eye as I look up as I freeze instantly, is that Elizabeth fucking Olsen my mouth falls open in shock as I can't help but stare at her she's looking back at me with a concerned look.

Lizzies POV:

"No thank you for having me professor I'm looking forward to meeting the students and make them listen to me rant about the effects of bullying its a topic close to my heart" I say as we stand outside thedoor "are you ready miss olsen" she says with a smile as I nod and we walk in I take a second to look about and notice a crowd of girls I don't really pay attention until the professor starts yelling names I thought they where just messing about because the teacher was gone but this looks more serious I study the situation and see a young girl who quiet frankly looks scared I keep staring at her trying to work out if she's OK when she meets my eyes her eyes go wide and mouth falls open making me giggle a little I smile and wave at her making her shy away and give a slight wave back throughout my speech I keep making eye contact with the young woman who was being harassed by the group of girls she's drop dead gorgeous I can't help but steal glances once I'm done I walk over to the professor "hey the young woman that was being harassed by the girls can you ask her to stay behind so I can chat to her please" I whisper into the teachers ear as she smiles and nods "ok of course miss olsen ill tell her to stay behind while I go deal with the other girls" I smile as she walks away towards the young woman and watch her look at her with sympathy as she kneels to speech to her I sit against the desk my eyes never leaving her I have this urge to protect her and I don't even know her I've never spoke to her but something in me is screaming protect her. 

Y/ns POV:

I can't wait to get home and climb into bed and shut the world off I hate this place I start to gather my books as I go to put them in my bag I'm stopped by the professor kneeling infront of me with a look of sympathy "y/n I'm so sorry for the way they acted that should never have happened ill make sure they don't do it again and they receive some form of punishment, I'm going to go deal with them now but miss olsen would like a word with you so could you stay behind please" she says in a quiet tone I look at her confused "oh uh yeah sure of course" she smiles and stands up and leaves the classroom I look down and see Elizabeth leaning against the desk I'm still shook she's here but now she wants to speak to me what is happening I get up and walk down towards her as she beams me bright smile reaching her hand out "hey I'm Elizabeth but you can call me lizzie, what's your name" I look down and pull my jumper over my hands nervously as I avoid her eye contact "I'm y/n its a pleasure to meet you lizzie I'm a big fan" she holds onto my hand longer than needed and I know she's still staring I can feel her eyes on me "its amazing to meet you y/n so what happened today you don't have to say if you don't want to but I want to help" I rub the back of my neck as I sniff "they just pick on me sometimes because I've never been to a real school I was always home schooled till last year when I wanted to come to college" she steps closer and puts her hands on my shoulders rubbing gently "give me your phone I'm putting alot of trust into you right now" she says as I look at her confused handing my phone she gives it back a minute later "i gave you my number I want you to text me or call me later I'm trusting you to keep this number to yourself" I nod and look at her "I won't give it to anyone I promise" I say with a whisper "ok well ill look forward to it y/n" I say goodbye and walk out to my car completely confused as to what just happened I look at her contact name and smile a little when I see a heart next to her name I decide to text so she has my number 

Me: Hey its y/n I just thought I'd text so you have my number thank you for taking a little time to chat to me it made me feel a little better so thank you Elizabeth.

I put my phone down and drive home the drive home is a quick one after 10 minutes I pull up to my apartment and notice a message I unlock my phone and smile at her name on the screen why am I smiling she's just a nice person who doesn't want to see someone being brought down by others

Lizzie♥️: Omg hey y/n I'm so glad you text I wasn't sure if you would or not I hope your OK and I'm always here to talk hope you got home safe 

I think for a second before replying 

Me: I got home safe thank you I hope you get home safely I honestly wasn't sure about texting I don't wanna be a burden to you..but I appreciate you lizzie thank you 

Lizzie♥️: Don't be silly your not a burden text me your address we're going a long walk so we can chat about anything your comfortable with, see you soon 😉 

I look at my phone smiling like an idiot and text her my address.

2 weeks later

'I'm almost there put the popcorn out please' I laugh and shake my head "ok ok see you In a minute " I hang up lizzie has been almost glued to me for the last 2 weeks I've told her alot that's bothered me she's been amazing I don't even know why she wants to spend time with me but I swear my crush on her has doubled I'm snapped put of my thoughts with her bursting through the door "hey sexy lady" she says as she throws herself on the couch grabbing the remote control picking a movie as I walk over with popcorn "umm excuse me miss but do you think this is your house" I say with faked sass "actually yes" she says with the most adorable smile I throw a bit of popcorn at her as laugh as I sit beside her and she moves closer to cuddle up to me "please don't pick a horror lizzie you know I can't watch them ill spend the full time with my face hidden on you and you'll have to stay the night there's no way I'm staying alone if you pick a horror" I say with a pout she wiggles her eyebrows "to late honeypie" I groan as she plays the movie. 

Almost half way through the movie I'm practically wrapped around her with my head hiding in her neck as she gently tickels my back I'm not sure if she's aware she's doing it but her hand slide up my t-shirt 20 minutes ago and It feels nice and comforting so I'm not going to tell her to stop "is it done yet" I whisper against her neck as she continues to run her fingers up and down my back "almost babe should be done in 5 minutes or so" I nod and sure enough five minutes later she turns family guy on "there all done"I stay where I am enjoying our bodies pressed together and my face against her neck "ok" I whisper not making an attempt at moving she laughs and rests her hand half way up my back "you can get up now the movie is done" her hands drop my waist almost on my ass "don't want to I'm comfortable" I smile against her neck as she laughs "I have no problem with this position y/n so stay like that as long as you want" I move my lower body and stop as my eyes go wide as I realise I practically grinded on her and her sharp breath in tells me she had the same realisation I go to move off but she holds me in place making my pull away to look at her "you have no idea how hard it is for me to be around you and keep my cool I wanna do everything and be everything for you I look forward to things like this because we get so close .." I cut her off mid sentence smashing my lips against hers once air becomes an issue I sit up looking into her eyes biting my lip "I feel the same lizzie" I say as I lean my head against her head 'take me to bed please " I say biting my lip as i move to kiss her neck surprised when I hear her moaning before I know it she's gripping my ass walking to the bedroom as I such and bite on her neck making sure I leave marks she throws me onto the bed falling on top of me as she kisses my neck "clothes you're wearing to many"

I say moaning earning a groan from the blonde under me she stands up and starts to shred her clothes I follow her lead till we're both butt naked staring at one another I can't help but feel my arousal pool at the sight of her I finally look at her eyes and notice them dark with lust I lean back and smirk feeling a little confident "make me yours" she falls to her knees and pushes my legs open instantly moaning at the sight of my dripping cunt I lean my head back and moan as she attacks my clit with no mercy she's sucking like I'm her last meal I can't help but let out loud moans the thought I have this affect on her turning me on more "yes yes fuck me yes lizzie right there!!!!" I scream as she adds 2 fingers inside my tight cunt thrusting as she sucks my clit Igrip the sheets so hard my knuckles turn white I go to moan as she curls her fingers at the right spot hitting my gspot my mouth falls open as a silent scream leaves my body I feel the sensation run through my body I didn't mean to cum so fast "you could have warned me you where a squirter" she says with a giggle as she sits ontop of me biting her lip I look up breathing heavy my chest rising and falling fast "I.. I'm.. not..I never knew...I was" I pant out with a huge smile she leans down and kisses me passionately after a few seconds she opens my legs and positions her cunt onto mine making me look at her and moan "oh honey you didn't think I was done with you did you? I wanna hear more of those pretty sounds you make for me" She says with a smirk as my eyes roll she starts to grind her hips making our clits rub together perfectly both of us moaning 'fa...faster baby" I whimper as my nails scratch her thigh as she fucks me harder and faster she keeps her pace up for a few minutes before they become sloppy "so close baby....babygirl" she moans gripping onto my hand "me to...mommy please cum for me" I scream my words not even registering as she picks up her speed both of us screaming and panting sweat dripping from our bodies "right there right there right there" she screams as she cums all over my pussy sending my second orgasm crashing over me "yes yes fu....ck oh f..fu..ck" I pant as she collapses ontop of me both of us not moving for a few minutes until we regain our breath "that was amazing baby" she says rolling off me rubbing my cheek making me blush "yeah it was you're perfect lizzie" I say blushing like a fool we climb into bed and cuddle both our naked body's pressed against eachother she kisses my head as she whispers "goodnight beautiful " I whisper goodnight and fall asleep in her arms.

AN: this is long and might not make sense I'm super tired and hungover I had an amazing night last night the wedding was beautiful it was such a long day but so worth it, apologies for this chapter haha but I will start posting again and making them some what decent haha I hope you enjoy this feedback welcome and honestly comments would help distract from this hangover feeling � (its been just over a year since i wrote this originally!! my friends have been married over a year thats crazy!)

[wonwooslibrary]

in other words, i love you | ksy

member: soonyoung x gn!reader genre: fluff, light angst, roommates!au, 4+1 things, dance student!soonyoung, student!reader, technically college!au but it's not mentioned word count: 2009 summary: four times you jokingly confess to soonyoung, and the one time he seriously confesses to you. warnings: swearing, an argument, a couple loving shoulder smacks bc i think they're cute, mentions of food/eating, y/n bullies soonyoung but it's all loving don't worry! author's note: i finished this after months instead of writing the wonwoo birthday thing that i'm supposed to post in like ten days lmao oops but a big shout out to @kthpurplesyou for beta reading this for me!! bee, i love u sm you've become such a good friend of mine over the past couple months !! i love all your writing and aaaa ur just amazing thank you !!! i am now on my way to work so have a wonderful day everyone & enjoy some short soonyoung fluff <3

The First. 

What is one thing that everyone wishes was free all the time? Of course, it’s food, and you were definitely someone who loved free food. So, when you saw the new ramen and boba place in the local mall was open, you were convinced. Your goal for today: get Soonyoung to pay for your lunch..

“Soonie, you love me, don’t you?” you questioned your best friend, tugging a bit on his sleeve. 

“I cannot believe you even had to ask that! Of course I do!” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders in a quick, but meaningful hug. 

“Okay so, if you love me like you say you do…” your voice droned on. “You should totally take me to the new boba shop. Please!” you held out the end of the word, begging the man.

Soonyoung looked away from you and moved his gaze to the ceiling of the store before he sighed. 

Exhaling loudly, he grabbed your hand and walked with you towards the restaurant. You quickly cheered with the hand that wasn’t in Soonyoung's. 

After arriving and ordering, you picked an empty booth to sit in as you both waited for your order number to be called.

"Thanks for paying, Soonie." 

Soonyoung smiled, his teeth showing. "You're welcome, I-" He was interrupted by the sound of their order number being called. 

Soonyoung stood up. "I'll grab them." 

“Are you sure? It might be a lot for you to carry by yourself,” you tried to stand up to help. “Let me help you.” 

Soonyoung put his hand on your right shoulder and lightly pushed you to sit down again. “It’s fine, I got it.” 

Coming back to the table from the second (and last) trip to get their food, Soonyoung sat back down across from you, making quick work of taking his wooden chopsticks apart. 

Immediately picking up your boba, you began swinging your legs a bit before speaking with a bright smile. 

"Soonieee!" 

Lifting his head up from his rice to look at you, Soonyoung smiled brightly. "Yeah?" 

"I love you," you took another sip of your tea. "And boba. I think I love boba more though." 

Soonyoung laughed. "I'm starting to think that you like the boba more than my friendship."

The Second. 

“Hey Y/N, do you want to do something today?” 

Looking up from your novel, you focused your gaze on Soonyoung. “It depends. Where do you want to go?” 

“They opened a new arcade down the street from that bookstore you really like. I wanted to check it out sometime, so I was just thinking that you could  join me.” 

You smiled. “Of course I’ll go with you Soon! Give me like ten minutes to get ready?” You gestured to the pajamas that you were currently lounging in. 

“Of course! I’m so excited!” Soonyoung sprinted off back to his room, most likely preparing the most ridiculous outfit imaginable. 

You shook your head and got up from the couch after placing the receipt-bookmark on the page before closing the novel. 

After getting dressed and grabbing a quick snack from the kitchen, you sat and waited patiently for Soonyoung, who sprinted down the stairs and stumbled about half way through, tripping a bit and catching himself on the wall. 

Of course, as one does when their best friend almost faceplants, you laugh. “Good going. You should do that again so I can record it.” 

Soonyoung, peeling himself from the wall, gave you an exasperated look. “Ha ha ha,” he walked into the kitchen. “Very funny.” 

You looked up at him. “You’re right. It was.” 

Soonyoung smacked your shoulder lightly before grabbing his keys off the counter. “You ready to go?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go.” 

About twenty minutes later, you learned that you should never agree to going to an arcade with Soonyoung. You watched from the sidelines, sweating, as he absolutely demolished the DDR machine he found in the corner of the small inner-city arcade. 

Winning another round (and yet again breaking the highest score), Soonyoung got off the arrow-covered platform and walked to where you were sitting. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to challenge me again? I can go easy on you!” Soonyoung smiled, his gums showing. 

Laughing loudly, you argued with the man. “If you think I’m getting back on that,” you looked at the platform in disgust. “Thing, you’re absolutely insane. I love you so damn much Soonyoung, but you can’t pay me to get back on that.” 

Soonyoung scoffed. “It’s not that hard!”  “I’m sure you don’t think it is!”

The Third. 

The first thing you noticed after the countless minutes of sitting in this brightly lit room was that it was hot. You were leaning against the wall, phone on a tripod focused on Soonyoung’s movements in the wall-length mirror. 

“Soonyoung!” you whined. Across the large room, Soonyoung looked up from the ground, his thoughts interrupted. 

“Yeah?” 

“Is there no air conditioning here? Like come on, it’s a dance practice room! Do they expect their dancers to die from heat every day?” 

Soonyoung smiled, “They’re working on fixing it right now. Something broke somewhere in the building so now the whole floor is not getting AC.” 

“That’s awful. Terrible. A crime to humanity!”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I'm here every day. Though, they said it should be done within the next couple of days, so don’t worry about it.” 

Soonyoung begins the music again, and he begins dancing his routine, movements sharp and well crafted. But, as Soonyoung dances, the temperature of the room increases, and there is only so much a couple of revolving fans can do. 

When Soonyoung is done dancing, he turns to face you. “How was that?” 

You nodded and clapped. “It was amazing! Though, I’m dying. You’re lucky I love you, otherwise I would have left an hour ago.” 

Soonyoung smiled. “But you like the dance? I’ve been working on it for a while and I really just want to be done with it.” 

“Yeah! It’s amazing. You know that every dance you do is going to be perfect by the end of it! You’re incredibly talented!” 

“Thanks, Y/N. Let’s go back before you melt into a puddle that I have to mop up off the floor.” 

“We both know if that happened, you’d be making Chan mop the floor. There’s no way you’d do it yourself.”

The Fourth. 

The movie that was playing at full volume on Soonyoung’s TV was not your first choice, and you made that extremely clear to Soonyoung as you both sat next to each other on the couch for your weekly movie night. 

“I just don’t understand why you’d want to watch a horror movie when you know that you’re going to be more scared than the characters on the damn TV!” you argued to your best friend. 

“Oh, come on you scaredy cat! It’s not going to be too bad! Jihoon said this one wasn’t that bad!” 

Wrapping yourself in the blanket Soonyoung kept on the couch, you refuted the statement. “There is a 99 percent chance that Jihoon was saying that just to fuck with you in hopes you get so scared you call him crying so he can laugh at you.” 

Soonyoung thought about your statement for a second before wrapping his arm around you. “Okay, while you do have a point there,” he began, “I don’t think Jihoon hates me that much!” 

“While he might not hate you that much, he doesn’t love you like I do---of course he’d pull a useless prank on you like that.” Once the words came out of your mouth, you could feel your heart start beating faster at the words you just said. It feels…different, somehow. 

“Of course! He can’t love me nearly as much as you do!” Soonyoung yays, hugging you and rubbing his hair into your cheek.

Grimacing, you complain, “Okay, okay, please get your greasy hair off of my face.” Placing one of your hands on Soonyoung’s hairline, you push him away. 

Soonyoung lets go of the hug and leans to the other direction, pouting. “Y/N doesn’t love me anymore!”

The One. 

“Soonyoung! Did you seriously?” you mutter to yourself. After a long day in classes and stressing about the endless amount of assignments you have to do, the last thing you wanted was to come home to the shared apartment and see piles of dirty dishes by the sink. Of course, it wasn’t only the dishes that upset you: the living room was a mess of snack wrappers and empty water bottles and the TV was still on, the sleep screen lighting up the living room. The couch and coffee table were both pushed out of the way to create Soonyoung’s mini dance studio in the living room. 

“Kwon Soonyoung! Where are you?” you yelled up the stairs. 

Soonyoung peeked his head out of his bedroom door to see you halfway up the stairs. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Did you forget to do something?” Soonyoung tilted his head, thinking. 

“I don’t think I forgot to do anything? Why?”

“The sink is filled with dishes! Didn’t you say you were going to stop doing that? And the living room is a mess! None of the furniture is put back and there are wrappers everywhere! You promised that you wouldn’t leave stuff around all the time!” you angrily tell your best friend off. 

“I’m sorry! I forgot about it, I’ll go clean everything right now!” Soonyoung came out of his room and headed towards the stairs. 

“No, it's fine. I got it, just-” you sighed heavily. “Actually remember to do your chores next time, and put the living room back together.” With that, you walked back down the stairs to the kitchen, but Soonyoung was hot on your tail. 

“It’s not fine! The dishes were my chore and it’s my mess in the living room, just- move and I’ll do it.” Soonyoung began cleaning the dishes out of the sink in order to fill it with water. 

You tilted your head down to the floor, eyes watering. The angry reaction you had was finally hitting you, making you feel terrible about yelling at your best friend. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, Soon.” You wiped a tear off your face. “I really d-didn’t mean to. I've just had an awful day and I didn’t think about what I was doing or saying.” 

Soonyoung turned to face you, hands covered in suds. “Y/N, it’s fine. Please don’t cry,” he wiped his hands on the closest towel to him before wrapping his hands around your upper arms and making eye contact. 

“I promise everything is fine -- you were right to yell at me, because I did promise you I would stop doing these things. I love you, Y/N, more than anything, and that doesn’t stop just because you told me off for something.” 

Your eyes widened as Soonyoung kept talking. This action led Soonyoung to make a similar face, finally realizing what he said. 

“You…love me? That much?” you questioned in a meek voice, still wide-eyed. 

Soonyoung’s cheeks turned red and he looked away before whispering a small, “Yeah, I do.” 

When he finally looked back at you, he smiled. “Yeah,” he spoke louder. “I didn’t mean to say it in this context,” He looked around quickly. “But I guess now is better than never.” 

The dried tears on your cheeks begin to stiffen, but it doesn’t stop you from smiling as widely as physically possible. “I love you too, Soonie.” 

You wrapped your arms around your best friend newfound lover, tightly squeezing. Of course, Soonyoung hugged you back. 

You both quickly pulled apart when two voices scared you. 

“Soonyoung? Are you guys done making out in the middle of the kitchen?” 

“Hi, Y/N!” 

Turning around, you saw Soonyoung’s friends, Seungkwan and Seokmin. 

“Hi guys,” you began. “I guess that explains the living room being a mess?” you ask Soonyoung. 

He nods, laughing a bit. “Yeah.”

You smile. Of course. 

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia - Chapter 2: A Mere Lady (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 2: A Mere Lady

Daemon has returned to King’s Landing. Yet it is not in his nature to sit idle.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: That extreme slow burn once more lmao, Daemon being an idiot, Westerosi sexism, mention of violence, Daemon and Y/N bickering like children again

Word Count: 2.9k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: Thank you for all the support for the first chapter of Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia! It really warms my heart to see all your reblogs and likes 💗 this chapter is a bit of a filler one, but something big will happen next chapter (can you guess what it is? 👀) I hope you enjoy reading!

wonderful dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics​  !  

The shadows darkened and the bustle of noise in the Red Keep slowly faded into a faint hum as night enveloped the castle. I had just finished drawing up and helping Aemma into a bath when a maid announced the presence of King Viserys. I hurriedly rose from where I was preparing the Queen’s nightclothes and curtsied. “Your Grace.” Viserys merely waved away my greeting, putting a hand on my shoulder. “At ease, Y/N. We are not in the presence of other courtiers, you need not refer to me by my title.” I smiled fondly at Viserys. “Well, if my king commands it. Are you here to see Aemma? She is in the midst of her nightly soak” Viserys’ brows furrowed, “Of course. How has she been? Are the baths of any help?”

“Aemma says it is effective to a degree, but the moment she steps out of the bath, the aches return.” Viserys hummed in acknowledgement; “Looks like our son is taking quite the toll on my beloved. He must be an active lad.” My smile widened at that: Viserys’ pride in his unborn son was clearly strong. But my smile dropped when I heard Viserys’ next words, “Have you had a chance to run into Daemon by any chance, Y/N?” I chewed hard on my lip at his question, making Viserys raise his eyebrows and laugh at my obvious distaste for his younger brother. “I will take that as a yes. Are the both of you still having trouble getting along?”

“We get along about as well as fire and oil, I’m afraid.” Viserys let out a huge belly laugh at that, “And who is the oil in this situation, you or Daemon?” “Daemon,” I answered without hesitation. “Seven hells, I have no doubt his love for provoking me is fueled by the gods themselves.” Viserys looked amused, “Well, as your king, I am pleased to inform you that I have listened to your petitions and assigned him back to his old post at the City’s Watch. Mayhaps he will cease annoying you with this new responsibility.”

“I thank you for your graciousness, Your Grace,” I curtsied slightly. “Your justice is indeed swift and efficient.” “Well, a king must care for his subjects above all else. And you are like a sister to me.” Viserys patted me on the shoulder, “I must go and check on my beloved now. A King must not keep his Queen waiting after all.” I nodded and turned back to my duties as he ambled away.

The morning sun lazily clambered up the sky, causing the Red Keep to begin to bustle about with noise once more. A servant helped me lace up my new Tyrell green gown, with small gold rocaille prints dotting the bodice and gold roses stitched throughout. Autumn had fallen upon King’s Landing, and the air was beginning to fill with a biting chill, hence my father had ordered the dressmakers to design the dress with fitted long sleeves. I was a little uncomfortable, since I was unused to dresses with fitted sleeves, but it did make it easier for me to tend to Aemma.

I cast a glance at the fireplace. The flames had long died out, but in the midst of the charred black wood, I could see the remnants of parchment. The new dress from Father had not arrived without condition. I had not bothered to read the letter - knowing it would be full of eligible lord names and pleading from my father to just pick one and put him out of his misery - instead chucking it into the fire without a second thought.

“My lady?” Blinking, I looked up at the servant girl. “I am finished with your hair. Are you in need of anything else?” I studied my reflection in the vanity, patting a stray strand of hair down gently. “No, everything is fine. You’ve done a wonderful job. Thank you, Rebecca.” She smiled and curtsied before scurrying off. I put on my favourite pair of gold earrings, checking my reflection one last time before striding out of my chambers.

Aemma was never an early riser, and pregnancy fatigue had only served to prolong her hours spent in bed, hence I always took this opportunity to wander around the Red Keep while undertaking any errands assigned to me at the same time. After making an errand run to the washerwomen to pick up Aemma’s clothes, I bustled over to the Grand Maester’s quarters to request for the Queen’s medicinal teas. I also paid a visit to the seamstress to get a few garments of Aemma’s altered, as she had complained about them being too tight around her bump.

With my list of tasks fulfilled, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Aemma had yet to rise, hence I was wandering aimlessly around the hallways. It was then that I heard a few lads whispering as they passed me. “Did you hear about Prince Daemon’s latest exploits?” “Aye, I heard the smallfolk’s cries all the way from Flea Bottom in my quarters last night. The king has summoned him to the Small Council meeting this morning to demand answers, I’ve heard.” “The prince truly cannot go a day without causing trouble…”

Curiosity piqued, I listened thoughtfully to their conversation until their voices faded away. Daemon? Causing trouble? There was nothing novel of the matter. Yet, the lads had whispered about hearing the cries of the smallfolk. And from what I heard, it did not seem like the cries that Daemon was fond of eliciting.

My nosiness getting the better of me, I turned on my heel, my green skirts swishing behind me. Arriving at the base of the White Knights Tower, I slipped inside a room before anyone could notice and question my presence. The room in question was a secondary armoury, but it was rarely used as the weapons stored here were either blunted after years of use or outright broken. I pushed aside a false pillar made of highly porous stone, revealing a narrow gap which I squeezed through with ease.

Pulling back the pillar to cover the gap once more, my eyes trailed around the expanse of the space as I found myself in a familiar winding hallway. Sunlight poured in through numerous crumbling holes in the ceiling, and the air was filled with a dank smell. Sneezing slightly, I gathered my skirts and quickly made my way through the familiar maze of passageways. I nearly forgot to take a left, almost ending up in the secret halls in the Tower of the Hand, but I retraced my paths and breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the Hand’s disdainful voice. Here, the passageways were much more spacious and bright, being situated on the upper floors of Maegor’s Holdfast.

Peeking through one of the spaces in the walls, I caught sight of the Small Council seated around the table. Daemon was sitting near the head of the table still clad in his armour, his face streaked with dirt. Unfortunately, his back was turned to me, so I couldn’t glimpse his expression. However, I noticed most of the lords were looking noticeably on edge, especially the Hand. Otto’s face was even more unpleasant than usual, and that was saying something.

By the Gods, what had Daemon done now?

“You might not know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of the city is seen by the smallfolk as lawless, and terrifying.” Daemon’s smooth voice echoed throughout the room. Otto’s face turned as sour as spoiled milk. I had to restrain a snort, he was not incorrect, the residents of the Red Keep, particularly those of noble blood, were very far removed from the lives of the smallfolk. I had once ridden with Rhaenyra and Alicent to the Dragonpit, passing by the streets of Flea Bottom, and safe to say, I was very glad for my life of luxury in the Red Keep, although I did feel sorry for them.

“...I just hope you don’t have to maim half of my city to achieve this.” “Time will tell,” came Daemon’s response. Even with my view of his facial expressions obstructed, I could nearly picture the smirk on his face, clear as day. I rolled my eyes. It seems that Daemon��s first night returning to his duties as commander of the City Watch had been bloody, to say the least.

“If only the prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife as he does to his work, your Grace.” I snapped to attention once more, eyes keenly observing the proceedings through the space. Gods be good, the Hand cannot give it a rest, can he? I suppose he could not: his distaste for Daemon clouded him from better judgement. But he should know better, I bit my lip to restrain the laugh I know would follow. Daemon always knew how to find someone’s sore spots, and Otto Hightower was as prickly as those strange Dornish desert dwelling plants.

“I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you are in want of a woman to warm your bed,” Otto’s face lost its previous smugness as his eyes grew wide in anger and he stiffened at Daemon’s remarks. “Your own lady wife passed recently-” There was a scraping of a chair on the floor as the Hand towered over the table. I recognised the expression on his face, it was one I had worn many times in my life.

The visceral urge to punch Daemon Targaryen in the face.

I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying to fight the battle to keep my laughter at bay

“Did she not?” I lost the battle as a small wheeze erupted from my covered mouth. My eyes widening, I watched as the men at the Small Council table stiffen, particularly Daemon - his stance suddenly became more pronounced and alert. I know it would be hard to discover me unless the men had knowledge of the secret passages, yet I felt my heart thundering in my chest.

But the gods were good, and the men soon dismissed the sound as Viserys attempted to soothe Otto’s anger. Finally, after Viserys admonished Daemon for his actions- albeit not as fiercely as the Hand would have hoped for, judging by how his sharp glare had not subsided in the least after the king’s judgement - Daemon got up to leave, the doors shutting behind him with a definitive thunk. I dusted off my skirts and readied myself to leave as well. The excitement was over, and I had gotten the information I wanted to know anyway. Walking through the hallways again, I debated on which path I should take to ensure my exit would not be noticed by anyone. The nearest exit I knew was immediately out of the question, and I could not sneak out through the exits in any of the royal apartments, because there was an ever-present risk of being discovered by a nosy servant. Sighing, I continued walking, lost in thought, until a figure pushed me against a wall.

I opened my mouth to scream but a hand that smelt of sweat and something coppery covered my mouth, putting a finger to his lips. My eyes narrowed as he released his hand from my mouth. “What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?” I spouted out angrily as those godsforsaken pair of lilac eyes stared down at me with amusement. “I think I should be asking you that, byka zaldrīzes,” Daemon raised an eyebrow.

“I asked first. How did you even know I was here?” I grumbled, dusting off my dress. The pounding in my chest was so loud I was certain the whole of the Red Keep could hear how much of a terrified wreck I was.

Instead of answering, Daemon reached his hand out to brush at my hair, as I observed him with wary eyes. Then, he flicked my forehead. “Ow! What was that for?” He smirked, “I see you took the armoury entrance, judging from the grime on your face and in your hair.” “And? It was one of the only ways I could get into the passageways without being seen.”

The prince hummed infuriatingly under his breath. “Has anyone ever told you how fond you are of making your life more difficult, byka zaldrīzes?” “Well forgive me, your Grace, but I do not wish to be caught in your apartments trying to sneak into a secret passage. The Red Keep is akin to a vicious beast when it comes to gossip.” The prince let out a triumphant “ha!” as I looked quizzically at him. Had he finally lost his mind?

“Formalities again,” he said, delighted, “I was hoping that yesterday’s episode in the throne room was not the last I would hear of you addressing me formally.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “My question remains unanswered. How did you know I was in here?” The prince snorted. “I think every one of those lickspittles in the small council heard your laugh. I was the only one to recognise it however.”

I huffed. “Well thank the gods it was just you. Had it been the Hand-”

“That cunt is too busy licking my brother’s boots to seek you out, byka zaldrīzes,” Daemon teased, beginning to walk away. Rolling my eyes once again, I followed closely after. “I’m surprised you still remember the entrances. I was of the impression you would get lost if you ever came here again..” “From how many times you dragged me through these hallways to go catch a peak of King Jaehaerys and Prince Baelon in council sessions, it would take me a century to forget these halls.” I japed, as we rounded a corner that took us straight into an old closet in Daemon’s chambers. As we stumbled out, he settled down on his bed with a sigh of relief, and began to remove his armour. I crossed my arms as I leaned against the window, “There is still a lady here, your Grace.” “I don’t see any ladies, only a nosy bird.” “Hilarious.”

I averted my eyes as Daemon began to remove the gold cloak slung behind his shoulders. “I heard you crippled half the smallfolk.” “An exaggeration,” Daemon waved his hand dismissively. “And if so, they were criminals. Looters. Rapers. Petty thieves.” “And yet, you killed numerous innocents in your path to slaughter those criminals.” I said quietly.

Daemon was silent for a while, and I thought he had left to take a bath. But I was startled yet again when I felt a finger softly tilting my chin upward. Lilac eyes swirling with mild annoyance and mirth met my pensive (Y/E/C) ones. “Spare me the reprimand, Y/N. My brother and Lord Cunttower have already said more than enough.” He handed me a wet cloth, and I sighed before brushing it across his face, getting rid of the grime. Our dynamic has not changed since childhood, I mused internally. I walked away to dump the grime covered cloth in a basket for the servants to collect later.

“Do you not agree with my actions?” He motioned me to sit next to him on his bed. Wordlessly, I sat. Our eyes met, his searching mine for my reaction. “The violence was unwarranted,” I began delicately, watching Daemon’s eyes narrow. “However, I’d like to think the ends justify the means. I share Lord Corlys’ view on this matter.”

Daemon leaned back on his bedpost with a smile. “As I thought, you were more sensible than you looked.” His voice rose in volume as he ran a hand through his white blonde locks in frustration. “Pray tell, I just do not understand why my brother only sees the bad, and not the good. Even a mere lady like you could understand. Has that cunt of a Hand pulled the wool over my brother’s eyes so far that he is blind to the welfare of his city?”

Not receiving a response, he looked over at the Lady Tyrell. She sat there, eyes fixed to the ground, her mouth set in a thin line, her hands clasped in her lap. “Y/N?” “And begging your pardon, what exactly does ‘being a mere lady’ supposed to entail?”

Daemon had a slight hunch he might have made a mistake. “I was not implying anyth-” “Really?” Y/N interrupted sharply. “Or did you just consider my wits inferior to yours simply because I am a woman?”    

She stood abruptly, curtsying as she did. “Forgive me, my prince, I have other matters to attend to. If you have had enough of this mere lady’s presence, I shall be off lest a servant discovers us and sets tongues wagging.” She walked briskly out of the room, before Daemon could even formulate a response. Daemon stared at her retreating figure, and he groaned in frustration as he removed the last of his armour. His words had come out unintentionally, and he had not intended to insult her. Why was she so offended by them?

He huffed as soon as he had the thought. Why was it of any concern? He cared not for what that annoying brat thought of him. Sighing, he got up to ready himself for another visit to Flea’s Bottom. He had not seen Mysaria for a time.

translation: byka zaldrīzes: little dragon 

And that’s chapter 2! Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :)) Since chapter 2 was a little bit of a filler chap, chapter 3 should hopefully be released in about three days (as soon as I get that presentation that has been the source of my torment over the past few days on Tuesday done lol)  Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 💗

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish​ 

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴄʜ. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The problem? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, reader wears lipstick, heels, and a dress, insecurity on Bucky's part, brief allusion to disordered eating (Bucky), mentions of Bucky not doing so well, mentions of Bucky's trauma in general, and Bucky is probably written wrong. (Trying my best lmao)

||Part 2|| Part 3 || Part 4

[Series Masterlist]

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

🄳🄰🅈 2, 🄰🄵🅃🄴🅁🄽🄾🄾🄽

It had been easy to find a store selling dresses made to look like they were from the 1940's. The Brandon Center, the little store that could only be found in Brandon Briar, had an overwhelming amount of them. You'd left Bucky to find whatever he needed, you instead opting to browse through all the pretty dresses. There was a large selection, filled with pretty prints and colors.

Bucky, perhaps ten minutes ago, had interrupted your browsing to tell you that he was going to wait in the car. You had simply nodded, quickly glancing at the bag he carried.

A stunning red dress caught your eye. It had a little belt to go around your waist, with 3/4 satin-cuffed sleeves and a matching satin heart-shaped collar.

Sure, there were other dresses in a similar color, but once you saw this one, there was no going back. You checked the tag, making sure that it would fit.

Grinning once you saw that it did, you took the hanger off the rack before looking through the jewelry stand. When you found nothing that fit your style, you sighed. You walked to the register, and you were greeted by a woman, probably in her sixties. Her hair was dyed blonde, which looked good with her blue eyes. She wore black eyeliner all the way around her eye, with thick mascara to match. She grinned, a heavy country accent coming in thick when she spoke. Though you'd only spoken to a few locals, they all seemed to have the same accent.

"Hiya! Will this be all for you today?" She had a nametag on her floral blouse. Brenda.

You nod. "Yes."

"Okay. Oh..this is a pretty thing. You plannin' on comin' out by the old diner for the dance tonight?" She laid the dress out on the counter, examining it.

"Yeah. It's..it's in that little square, right? I saw the string lights this morning when I was driving by, but I didn't really have time to look."

"Yes, yes. The decorations are always gorgeous. Wait a minute..oh, this is from Mr. Lee." She said, beginning to fold the dress. When she noticed your confused expression, she grinned.

"A while back, we had a guy donate a bunch of old dresses like this after his wife passed. His wife was friends with Peggy Carter, funnily enough. Anyway, we kept a bunch of those dresses in the back for a few years. Forgot all about them. Until now, that is."

You nodded, though the mention of Steve's almost-kind-of-basically girlfriend startled you. A younger girl, maybe a college student, stepped out from the door next to the register. The creaky wooden floor announced the presence of another customer, as did the bell on the door.

"Aunt Brenda, can you help Ms. Owens? She wanted to look at that green dress I told you about." The girl said. Her hair was brown and straight, going down to her waist.

"Oh, yes." Brenda turned back to you. "Stacy will ring you up." She explained, placing the folded dress into a white paper shopping bag.

She walked out from behind the counter, Stacy taking her place.

"Sorry about that." She apologized. "That'll be $23.99. Hero's discount."

When she glanced up to you, she smiled a little. "Don't worry. You blend in a lot. Most of the people here are older, and anyone who isn't is just a young couple coming here for the festival. My great aunt and my grandma live up here, so I stay here every summer to help with the store." She assured.

Once you paid, she waved you goodbye as you walked out of the shop. Bucky was waiting in the driver's seat of the truck, scrolling on his phone.

"Y'know it starts at 6:00, right?" He asked when he heard the truck door open.

"It's 3:15, we'll be fine." You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt. You didn't say much on the drive to the hotel, instead thinking about what else you were going to wear.

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

Bucky stood inside of his hotel room, not sure what to do. You had decided to close your door to his room, and he decided to do the same.

He showered quickly, before getting dressed. He felt stupid as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He knew how he was supposed to look, but none of this felt...right. He tied his hair into a low ponytail, just to keep it out of his face.

He opened his door to your room, just to be met with your door closed. He knew it was going to be closed. Of course it would be closed. There was no reason he should feel so...disappointed.

Disappointed? No. No. Bucky was sure of it. He barely tolerated you. You were annoying, and you liked starting fights for no reason.

But he couldn't deny the feeling of excitement he got when he saw your name light up on his phone.

Ready. That was the entire text message. And somehow, a single word made his stomach feel light. Without typing a reply, he stepped into the hallway of the hotel, before he saw you.

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

"You look..fine." You mumble, refusing to say what you really meant: hot.

He nods awkwardly, before tilting his head towards the elevator. Nodding, you walk with him to the elevator, and you try and study his expressions as you wait to get to the first floor.

He looked lost in thought. Shit. That was never good. If he wasn't talking, whether that meant exchanging insults with you and Sam or marveling at modern technology with Steve, he was lost in his head.

One thing you'd noticed about him since he'd moved into the Compound was that he was getting better. Better, in the sense that he wasn't staying holed up in his assigned bedroom pretending that the world didn't exist. Better in the sense that he was talking to people now. Better in the sense that he wasn't waking up violent or screaming in the middle of the night. Yeah, sure, he's a petty asshole who's extremely good at pissing you off, but even semi-joking insults are better than eerie silence and pure fear of the outside world.

When he'd arrived at the Compound, he'd avoided everyone, even Steve. He didn't speak, barely acknowledged people unless he had to. He didn't eat. He could barely sleep. It was like he was a ghost. The first time Peter came over while Bucky was around, Bucky seemed to have shut down a little. Peter was a good kid. He stayed over in his room during weekends, or even occasionally during weekdays in the summer. He didn't ask intrusive questions, and he really did try his best to make Bucky feel welcome. But it really just terrified Bucky.

After a few months of court-mandated therapy, which slowly evolved from twice a week to once every two months throughout the span of a year, he seemed to recover. He slowly learned to get out of those post-HYDRA habits he'd picked up. He'd eat with the rest of the team. He'd join in on weekly movie nights. He'd even help Wanda when she cooked for the monthly 'nice-family-dinner' days. She always loved making the food for those. He started watching baking shows with Vision. He'd hang out with Natasha. He pestered Steve in a way only a best friend ever could. He made jokes. The first time you ever heard the former brainwashed assassin make a joke will be forever ingrained into your mind. It had been some stupid joke about Steve's old costume, and it had shocked everyone in the room. Except for Steve.

He only went silent like this on particularly bad days. Nobody ever said anything, because they knew that would only make it worse, but it was obvious whenever something rough went down. 'Bad days' meant days that followed nightmare-filled nights, or days that involved flashbacks or recovering from flashbacks, or days that were ruined by something triggering him.

"You good there?" You decide to speak up, just as the elevator door opens.

He nodded quickly, beginning to walk to the truck. He hops into the driver's seat, and you don't fight him on it.

"We're a bit late." You note, glancing at the time. 6:13pm. Technically, it started at 6:00pm and ended at 10:45pm.

"Holy shit." You say aloud, looking through Bucky's window at the beautiful decorations. There were string lights strung from light posts, and hay bales for some reason, and other cute things. There was a little stage set up, with a small band playing vintage songs. There were little stands set up where you could buy food or random 1940's themed shit.

"You ready?" You looked to Bucky, before checking in the mirror to make sure the red lipstick you'd applied hadn't smudged.

He nodded, parking the truck against the sidewalk. He waited for you to walk around the front of the vehicle to join him.

"I'll grab us some dinner. You up for this? We can always go back--"

"I'm fine." He said, and at first you thought that he was getting annoyed at you, before a quick glance to his face assured you that he was just trying to convince himself of this. "I'm fine." He repeated.

The air was warm, and the yellow light of the string lights combined with the street lights made Bucky look..really nice.

"Ooh! That place looks good. C'mon!" You grabbed his hand, pulling him forward.

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Taglist: @afraidofshrimp

[torahoes]

(IDOLiSH7) Haruka Isumi - An Idol's Daily Life Rabbit Chat: Part 1 - "kome up with"

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.

Haruka Isumi: Takanashi-san, good work today.

Haruka Isumi: Are you with Yotsuba right now? He hasn't read my text on Rabbit Chat yet

Tsumugi Takanashi: Isumi-san, good work today!

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'm not with him at the moment. He's currently doing a magazine photoshoot with Iori-san, so he might not be able to check Rabbit Chat for a while...!

Haruka Isumi: Ah

Haruka Isumi: So that's why Izumi hasn't read my text either

Tsumugi Takanashi: Was there something you wanted to tell them?

Haruka Isumi: I accidentally took Yotsuba's vocabulary book home with me, and I was wondering what to do. We have a test coming up, so I should probably return it soon

Tsumugi Takanashi: Ah! The English vocabulary test, right? I heard you all studied together for it after school.

Haruka Isumi: Yup. Yotsuba was panicking, so I helped him make the vocabulary book

Haruka Isumi: But the fact that he hasn't noticed it's with me tells me he didn't try to review it yesterday lmao

Tsumugi Takanashi: He mentioned this morning that he gave in to his temptation to watch a TV show and couldn't study… > <

Tsumugi Takanashi: Should I inform him about the vocabulary book?

Haruka Isumi: Nah, it's fine. He'll probably read it after the shoot

Haruka Isumi: I did think of taking it to the dorm right now if it was urgent since I have some free time

Haruka Isumi: But I'll just give it to him at school tomorrow

Tsumugi Takanashi: Sorry for the trouble and thank you!

Tsumugi Takanashi:

Haruka Isumi: By the way, Yotsuba misspelled a word lmao

Haruka Isumi: "kome up with"

Haruka Isumi: So funny

Tsumugi Takanashi: "come" turned into "kome"... > <

Haruka Isumi: And to top it off, he drew a character next to it that looks like a rice grain [1] lmaoo

Haruka Isumi: It's kinda got a relaxed face

Tsumugi Takanashi: Tamaki-san is good at drawing!

Tsumugi Takanashi: He's always doodling King Pudding sketches in the corners of his scripts; they're adorable...!

Tsumugi Takanashi:

Haruka Isumi: Yeah, he is pretty good

Haruka Isumi: Though everything he draws is kinda round.

Haruka Isumi: I'll write down the correct spelling next to the rice grain

Tsumugi Takanashi: Thank you very much!

Tsumugi Takanashi: Speaking of which, I heard your seats recently changed, and now you're sitting closer to each other.

Tsumugi Takanashi: I also heard you always wake up Tamaki-san when he's sleeping during class while you're distributing handouts...!

Haruka Isumi: Seriously, that guy falls asleep during class all the time

Haruka Isumi: Especially on days when we have classical literature in the fifth period; he's out cold

Tsumugi Takanashi: I wonder if it's because he gets sleepy after having lunch... > <

Haruka Isumi: That's probably part of it, but our classical literature teacher is a sweet old lady who speaks super softly

Haruka Isumi: I get drowsy too, so I understand

Tsumugi Takanashi: When a teacher has a soothing way of speaking, it does make you sleepy...

Haruka Isumi: What did you used to do when you were sleepy during class, Takanashi-san?

Tsumugi Takanashi: I would intentionally drop my eraser and pick it up, just to stretch my body a bit...!

Haruka Isumi: What if it rolled in a weird direction? Wouldn't that make you stand out more

Tsumugi Takanashi: There's a trick to making it roll to a good spot!

Haruka Isumi: What? lmaoo what kind of trick is that lol

Haruka Isumi: But yeah, moving around does help wake you up. I also do stuff like taking off my jacket or rolling up my sleeves to cool down

Tsumugi Takanashi: It must be even more exhausting for you all, considering you also have work… > <

Haruka Isumi: But if you're going to school anyway, it's better to just listen to the classes so you don't have to do any reviewing later. Plus, it saves you from last-minute studying before tests

Tsumugi Takanashi: That's impressive, especially with how busy you are!

Tsumugi Takanashi: I heard you occasionally even pack your own lunchbox.

Haruka Isumi: Yotsuba and Izumi talk about stuff like that too, huh? Lol. Only sometimes, when I don't have work

Haruka Isumi: I just pack what my grandma's already cooked or use frozen food, so it's not that big of a deal

Tsumugi Takanashi: That's more than enough...!

Haruka Isumi: It'd be nice if I could quickly whip up something with whatever's in the fridge

Haruka Isumi: But I don't have that kind of repertoire at all

Tsumugi Takanashi: Would you like me to recommend a recipe app?

Tsumugi Takanashi: I use it too, and it's very convenient because it suggests meals based on the ingredients you have in your fridge!

Haruka Isumi: There's an app like that!?

Haruka Isumi: I kinda want to check it out

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'll send you the link later!

End of Part 1.

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

[1] Tamaki made a drawing of a rice grain because "kome" (米) means rice in Japanese.

[st4rbwrry]

can u describe how u envision eren in full detail? reading ur answer to the other ask has me curious 🤭

okay here we go! ima go into depths about how i see him in my head + how he is in all the fics i write for him. firstly, i always always say that vinnie hacker reminds me of eren a lot and idk why. i think it’s mostly his face structure and hair. eren, to me in my head has black hair. like jet black. i usually just say his hair is brown in my fics bc then ppl will be coming to me saying ‘but his hair isn’t black it’s brown’ like duh ik that. dropping photo references bc i’m constructing a collage for him still.

so, based off hair looks: jet black with some curls. usually does still style it in his usual bun with the two strands in front. hair isn’t super curly, he has little ringlets. or he just wears it straight down.

as far as tattoos go, eren in fact has a LOT of tats. he has a full sleeve on his right arm. a tat across his neck that says ‘bite me’ which is my favorite <3. a few on his abdomen, chest, hips etc. piercings as well which include a diamond stud on his right ear and on the right side of his nose. he plans on getting more :)

body type is somewhat of how he is in the anime but slightly bulkier. i like how he looks in season 4 a lot lmao. also he’s 6’6 !

bonus; eren’s style. obviously he wears mostly neutral toned colors. black and gray are his favorites tho. he’s very casual. wears a lot of skinny jeans, sweatpants, or cargos. likes plain tees a lot, tends to throw leather or varsity jackets etc over them. spruces up his look with graphic tees if he can find vintage ones at a thrift store. bands & nascar for the win! sneaker head so he always has something new in that closet! loves the 550 new balances or low dunks + skater vans. wears a lot of necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. sometimes watches if there’s a special occasion like a date or whatever. likes bandanas cs he thinks they make him look badass. will toss on a beanie or snapback randomly. hoodie lover.

extra bonus: the car he drives is a black nissan r34 gtr. his favorite hobbies + things to do are going for long drives, skateboarding, listening to music, cooking breakfast as a love language, cuddles, forehead kisses reciprocated, giving love bites, holding hands, fixing cars, playing his guitar, playing football, drawing cartoon characters 90s style, collecting vinyls, thrifting, eating, gun range cs he thinks he’s in a video game when a weapon is in his possession, chewing gum, being cocky, petting saturn, getting up early to exercise, maintaining a healthy diet when he’s in a good mood but is quick to order take out or boil a pack of ramen, horror movies, kissing, having sex lmao, hygienic … and lots more :)

[fubardish]

Hey!! I love your work (both vore and non vore)

I have a bunch of questions if that's okay

1: Do you have any ocs you do vore with besides MobFlams?

2: Are you open for rp?

3: What are your favourite vore tropes (both safe and fatal?)

4: This is a nonsexual vore blog, right?

HeyHeeyyy!! And hell yes, les gooo

1 - Do you have any ocs you do vore with besides MobFlams?

Yes I have WAY more pred OCs up my sleeve, but I'm hyperfocusing on MobFlams all the time because... I like mobster preds :^)

Here we got my boy Kenji:

He's angry most of the time and a horrible glutton. I often draw him in various AUs because in canon he doesn't (always) eat humans. And when he DOES eat people, it's uhh... not safe :). Probably. You've gotta be REAL good friends to do safe vore with him, tho I think he wouldn't mind some casual mouth exploring?

And then we've got my man Yaten:

Again, his canon version actually doesn't eat humans AT ALL. In fact he hates it (which is why I sometimes do unaware with him, whoops :^) ) But because I am absolutely OBSESSED with creating AUs of my OCs, I obviously did also one with Yaten as a giant mean Seadevil merman that eats people. Safe and fatal, both works with him. But he's always mean and full of himsel >:]

And then I've got big nice uncle Hiroki:

He's Flams' best buddy and he's NICE. Safe vore? Absolutely yes. He can go fatal on AUs, but in canon is super friendly. Loves eating people and keeping them safe.

And then another character I love who's not mine, Andre:

He's my friend's character, but I designed him for my buddy. I often draw him because I like him... a lot 8). Also very friendly, loves humans and will never hurt them. Safe vore. Yes absolutely :)

Man... I AM really hyper-focusing on Flams. I got so many OCs I rarely draw vore with, holy shit XD

2 - Are you open for rp?

Right now, yes. Though again I prefer multi-paragraph RPs most of the time. But either way, if you're interested shoot me a DM with what you're interested in playing and we can talk about it :>

3 - What are your favourite vore tropes (both safe and fatal?)

When it comes to safe vore, I ADORE pred that wants to keep the prey warm from the cold. Spooky teasing is also very good, I LOVE cat and mouse scenes. Always a bit of thrill makes vore real gud, I love it. However when it comes with the trope of trusting eachother despite being scared of the pred MHMM YES THAT SHIT. It feels like an extended hug, but it's a spooky scary hug. A hug that keeps you safe from the outside world <3

In fatal vore I LOVE evil preds. They're just eating because they gotta eat :). Not caring too much and happily devouring spooked little peeps. Better when it comes with foodplay. Teasing the prey that they're just food and enjoying every bit of their fear and struggle. Unaware vore is also an absolute favorite of mine. Prey getting themselves accidentally stuck in food and getting eaten. They beg to be let out but either pred doesn't hear them over eating more food or they just don't care.

My two preferences in vore are VEEEERRY different from eachother, I'm aware of that. It's horrible XD. I really like both! But it's hard to keep them both in this blog because I know not everyone is fan of fatal. But I've come to a point where I don't care too much anymore. I'm gonna tag my art accordingly so that people can avoid it.

4 - This is a nonsexual vore blog, right?

Yes, absolutely! I always see vore as something non-sexual. As much as it goes into fatal and nasty stuff, I'm always seeing it as non-sexual. However even non-sexual stuff can be NSFW (as in not safe for work, in NOT LOOKING AT IT DURING WORK, I would never look at vore during that, holy shit no) But basically yes, it's non-sexual still. But please this blog is still +18 so no minors :'). Go look at my friendly blog where I have super harmless comic lmao

[captainnameless]

you did a request a while ago for clingy Max and i was wondering if you would write a little headspin like that on Max being clingy and Daniel gets kinda firm with him and Max gets upset but Daniel makes it all better?

i don’t know if that makes sense lmao but i’m such a sucker for the like caregiver being firm but then going all mushy for their little and i just love clingy Max

ooooo, i tried. i hope this is what you wanted <3

Max is extra clingy today, in fact, Daniel is pretty sure Max would prefer to be in one of those baby swings, stuck onto Daniel like a baby koala.

It’s not like Daniel minds, he loves Max, he loves that Max loves him. Loves how Max shows it through holding his sleeve, pressing his nose into Daniel’s cheeks when they’re waking up or making their knees touch when they’re sat next to each other.

But they’re working today, Daniel has a shit load of responsibilities to get through, the media is on him, throwing out theories on his future and wanting his opinion, his thoughts, his soul.

His lunch break was supposed to start 20 minutes ago, and he knows Max is waiting. He’s texted him already that he’s running late, unable to keep his eyes of the digital numbers on his phone when he’s supposed to be putting his guy down for a nap. Jetlag has gotten both of them pretty good this time around, barely getting 4 hours of sleep in last night and Daniel had specifically requested his break to coincide with Max’s so he could schedule some rest for the younger. Lord knows he needed it.

His phone screen lights up again with a message from Max

I’m coming to you.

No, Daniel thinks immediately, doesn’t want these media vultures to jump on Max the second he walks in, not right now.

“Just- a second.” He apologizes absentmindedly swiping open Max’s message and responding.

Don’t, it’s too busy. I promise I’m wrapping this up. Give me 5.

When Daniel finally finishes his conversation a couple minutes later, partly because the person in front of him probably got annoyed with his short and distracted answers, he breathes a sigh of relief as he goes to gather his things. There’s a flash of orange in the corner of his eye and Daniel snaps his had up immediately when he realizes the orange is the #1 cap Max wears, in fact it is Max.

It’s impressive how quickly Daniel gets too Max, not quick enough for the first person there to go “Oh, Max do-” but quick enough to push Max back out into the hallway before their request is out.

“I told you to stay.” Daniel voice is firmer than he means it too be, his own exhaustion bleeding through frustration.

Max blinks up at him with a rapidly growing pout, hand coming up to try and pry Daniel’s hand off his bicep, Daniel lets go suddenly, not aware of his firm grip.

“You have to come.” Max whines up at him. “You took too long.”

Daniel sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “I am coming, I just need to grab my stuff.”

“I’ll come with.” Max responds, already moving to push past Daniel.

Daniel stops him with a gently hand to his chest. “No, Max. I’ll go grab it. You go to your room.” He doesn’t have the energy to explain why.

“But-”

“One.” It almost slips out of him, firmer than Max is used to when he’s not even in trouble really. “Go.”

Max stills immediately, sadness taking over his features. There’s a tiny little “Okay.” The he breathes out before turning on his heels, speed walking away from Daniel, leaving the elder with a gnarly feeling in his chest.

There’s a few choice words that Daniel murmurs under his breath as he steps back into the little room, gathering his things.

He does knock when he’s in front of Max’s driver room, a tiny flicker of worry things Max might have locked it, but when his hand twists the handle it opens.

Max has wrapped himself up in the baby blue blanket Daniel picked this morning. He looks so small, all bundled up in the corner of the couch and when Daniel enters there’s already tears swimming in his eyes.

“Daddy.” Max cries, reaching out to Daniel with blanket covered grabby hands. “I’m sorry. Daddy, I’m sorry.”

Daniel flicks the lock quickly before flinging himself onto the couch and wrapping his arms around the bundled bub.

“No, Darling. Shh. Daddy’s sorry. You don’t have to be sorry.” Daniel soothes, hand finding Max’s cheek to brush at the tears.

“Didn’t listen. I was bad.” Max cries back at him, burying his face in Daniel’s chest.

Daniel just holds him closer, rocks them a little in an attempt to get the tears to stop. “Oh Bubba, sometimes not listening has a very good reason. I’m sure you only didn’t listen cause you were missing Daddy very much, no?”

Max peaks up at Daniel, sucking in a breath before he nods. “Miss.”

“Right.” Daniel breathes, brushing the hair off of Max’s forehead. “And Daddy should’ve listened to you, should’ve thought about those missing feelings being too big for a little boy to listen. Daddy’s sorry.” Daniel’s always made sure Max knows that Daniel apologizes too, that he makes mistakes and owns them, that they’re equal. He’s even sat on the naughty step once.

Max blinks up at Daniel, thumb finding his mouth as the tears slow down. “Not bad?”

“You’re never bad. Maybe sometimes you make a bad decision, but you’re never bad. Remember? Sometimes Daddy makes a mistake, or a bad decision. That doesn’t make Daddy bad. But Daddy is sorry for making you wait, and expecting a little too much of you today. You’re a good boy, Maxie.”

Max is silent against his against his chest, the tears have stopped but Daniel can see in his eyes he’s not convinced.

“Do you need a little help remembering?”

Max nods slowly, thumb slipping out of his mouth.

“Alright.” Daniel smiles gently, sitting Max up a little straighter, the blanket that Max had wrapped around himself is lifted, and Daniel covers both of them with it like a little tent, grabbing both of Max’s hands in his.

“Just us.” Daniel hums, bumping his nose into Max’s.

“You’re a good boy.” Daniel says, open and honest as he squeezes Max’s hands.

Max breathes. “I’m a good boy.” It’s quiet, but Daniel hears.

“I am kind,”

“Kind.”

“I am smart.”

“Am smart.”

“I am loved.” Daniel squeezes a little harder.

“I am loved.” Max breathes back at him.

Daniel smiles. “The most by me.” He decides to add.

There’s a small smile that breaks out on Max’s face.

“You got it?” Daniel asks and Max nods.

“I’m a good boy.”

“Good boy.” Daniel reaffirms, pressing a kiss to Max’s forehead, about to let go off their intertwined hands when Max squeezes them tight.

Daniel looks at him with gentle confusion.

“Your turn.” Max breathes. “I’m a good Daddy.”

Daniel has to bite his lip at the noise that wants to leave his body, suddenly blinking a bit more rapidly.

“Say.” Max demands, eyes honest and sincere.

“I’m a good Daddy.”

[paytato435]

Snapper and Stinkpot Character Ref: Casey Junior!

Oh look, the main character appeared! Info dump about Casey under the cut!

Casey Jones Junior - 16, he/him

Birthday: November 23rd (Sagittarius)

Casey is trying his best to adjust to his new life after stopping the Krang invasion, but he has a few wrinkles to iron out before he can sleep soundly at night. Most notably, he hasn’t told his family that he’s also a mutant turtle, and now he’s been blackmailed. Yikes! Wait why would he hide that, that’s so cool?

Some head canons I have about Casey for this au: Knows sign language! Donnie is the only other turtle proficient with it in the family, but maybe it will be useful somehow? Casey also has a bad habit of confusing the younger turtles with their future counterparts, and is often disappointed by the way they act or their lack of experience in dangerous situations.

Despite all his troubles, Casey puts his family before everything else, and would do anything to keep them safe and happy.

Songs that remind me of Casey: Tomorrow Comes Today by Gorillaz (I’m very funny), Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit, and Cover of Me by SUGR?

Casey’s design: Imma be honest, his apocalypse outfit in the movie is trash, I only kept the parts I really liked; his knee pads, hockey stick chainsaw, and face mask. Coming from such a dangerous upbringing, I figured he probably has the scars to show for it, and pretty early in the story it’s established he has a hard time looking at the scars on his legs. So unless it’s otherwise stated, this boy wears leggings under his shorts, lmao. Of course he rocks the man bun occasionally, and even a ponytail in my sidewalk comic. He’s a practical boy. <3

The jersey is a reference to Leo, who also has his own #1 jersey. Gave it longer sleeves to be more hockey/ football shaped over the basketball cut tho. I had an earlier design with him in a tank top and I just don’t vibe with it that much now. His number is 6 because 4 turtles + April + Casey jr. = 6. Finally, we have his red boots. I stole them from Deku in MHA, and they look fucking good on his turtle form, which I will be posting very soon!

And uhh, just in case the totally normal jpeg above isn’t working for you, here’s the picture again. I don’t know why it would be broken but like, idk… I just feel like things haven’t been appearing the way I thought they should lately 🤷‍♀️

P.S. if anyone knows if there are any references for human feet in Rise please let me know or send me some because I totally just threw those piggies out there and had no intention of looking for something so suspiciously specific. 😳

Masterpost Turtle Casey? Angel’s Reference sheet! Sunshine's reference sheet!

[sapphickocho]

hihi bestie heehee i am here to drop shit abt ur au now cuz u did to mine so YES. (it's abt the tokito traitor au btw <3)

1. yui would take so many habits from koku just because (ex. like talking so slow, staring off to the distance, death stare, etc.) he would most prob remind lower rank demon slayers to respect the heirarchy

2. mui would ramble so much shit to koku that sometimes koku can't keep up (ex. what happened during his missions, what he did today like what he ate, etc.)

3. mui is known to sleep heavily even to loud noises, so who knows yui would do the same, before they were demon slayers koku has to protect their asses from other demons attacking them.

4. there would be one game they would play with koku is try to guess which tokito twin is which, they have to look exactly like eachother and koku has to guess (for mui's left arm he would hide it in a long baggy sleeve), but koku would always guess correctly cuz of the see through world lmao

5. yui would mostly remind him of himself cause of how similar they are in some ways, thanks to that koku is much more harsher on yui when training (he doesn't know why but he guesses cause he only has one arm hehe)

6. koku is more softer w mui at times cuz of how he reminds him of yoriichi he would do things that would make him seem out of character with mui, like... a protective older brother 👀, koku doesn't really like how similar mui is to yoriichi but he keeps it to himself, also there might be times were koku freezes up over something mui said that really reminded of yoriichi 🥺

also sorry ramble hehe, it was my turn HEHEHHEEHE enjoy these, hcs/ideas? eh- anyways love ya! can't wait to see for whats to come!!! ❤️❤️❤️

YES YES YES THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TELLING ME !!

I have so many thoughts about this !!

First of all for context, this is a refence to this post here.

So for the first one, yuichiro would TOTALLY do that. All of the lowermoons are absolutely terrified of him because he is like a mini version of koku and if any of them act up he doesn't need all six eyes to death stare them. It shuts them up easily. I feel like he would also talk in fancy traditional words that confuse tf out of the hashiras + the kamaboko squad since koku talks like the sengoku period and well, yuichiro idolizes him.

2. This reminds me of the fact that muichiro would totally talk shit about people behind there back. And you know who hes telling it too? Our one and only number 1 dad! Kokushibo is just tired of hearing demonslayer corps gossip because he cant follow along.

3. Oh for sure. I bet he was also especially nervous when they went through final selection and he couldnt protect them. especially since they had to sleep during those seven days.

4. He would totally play along tho, so he would be like "hmmmm this is so difficult.....Yuichiro is on the left."

5. poor yuichiro but YES this exactly!! Koku would often be like "Your not strong enough to protect your bother" and "Your worthless if you let him die" to motivate him but also because it feels like he is talking to the child version of himself, and all the stuff he wants to say so things can turn out diffrently.

6.🥺 stoppp thats so cute. and its so true. muichiro would look at him with his big eyes that have the same look as yoriichri's and kokushibo would have to look away. Its just. too cute.

what if kokushibo gives him a gift and muichiro says "I'll cherish it, like it was you" and suddenly koku is getting whiplash to how similar the words were to when his brother said it all those years ago.

Thank you so much!! Feel free to drop your ideas in my inbox anytime ♥♥♥♥

[yankthoudong]

RWBY questions game

i never get anything for ask games so i decided to just do it lmao. skipped and deleted the ones idk what they mean or i don't want to answer. unfortunately tumblr's numbered lists are silly so theyre incorrectly numbered now https://www.tumblr.com/thuskindlyshescatters/755265757960601600/rwby-ask-game?source=share

Favorite debunked fan theory? Qrowdad no question. I kinda believed it at the time, and the way CRWBY have backed away from it is absolutely hilarious especially if they make poly STR real and Summer/Qrow is one of the only nonromantic relationships on the team. Doubly so if Rosebird Parents comes real.

Rank the soundtracks! 9 >>> 6 > 7 > 4 > 8 > 1 > 2 > 5 >>> 3. i do think v3's is noticeably worse than the others but aside from that and v9 going off there's not much differential for me.

Favorite Ruby ship? HARGH this one has been rapidly changing for me over the last couple months. i love NND and have for a very long time, it might still be my answer, but i've fallen hardcore for gemstones lately too. (artificial gemstones is excellent as well, i think penny/emerald could be really cool.) but i've also gotten very into the idea of post-v9 complicated emotions ruby/neo lately. artificial gemstones if you make me choose.

Pick a design choice for the new outfits! GIVE 👏 RUBY 👏 MORE 👏 BELTS more seriously i'm curious if ruby will have any colors representing those who have fallen. obviously penny is the big one but i also think it would be cool if she has a little rainbow sleeve or somesuch with Summer, Penny, and Pyrrha all represented. Maybe Lionheart, Ozpin, Clover, and Ironwood too, representing the more negative aspects of her guilt. Also Neo

Favorite redhead in the show? Penny.

Favorite lines? "So, when she's ready, I'll be there for her. And, I know we're not as close... but I'm here for you, too." all of Ruby's speeches to Qrow in 6x9 and 6x10 "She'll find herself. One way... or another."

Any characters you wish had lived? Penny, Pyrrha, Roman. that answer hasn't changed since v3 lol.

Any characters you wish had died? honestly, the only characters i wanted to die were adam and jacques, and they're already dead, so...

Favorite soundtrack moments? all the RWBY soundtracks since i got back into the show have released either on my birthday or a few days before and i don't notice them until my birthday. that's been incredible for me, it feels like casey is giving me a present lol.

Favorite visuals/shots? Penny against the moon in V8 i think is the best-looking shot in the show. i also love the moment when the dust clears in blake + yang vs adam, it looks perfect. all of Tea Amidst Terrible Trouble looks amazing, it's the best episode imo. the fight animation in everyone vs ironwood is so smooth and i love it, also crescent rose during the first 10 seconds or so of ruby vs the cat in v9c10. the look ruby gives neo at the end of the fight is really impressive to me too - they managed to animate her expression subtly while giving it as much emotion as a real actor would have. that look says a thousand words of concern and worry and understanding and it's so impressive that they pulled it off.

Best idea for a RWBY crossover? RWBY X Homestuck fighting game. I will sacrifice both Miles Luna and Andrew Hussie to whatever god can make this happen.

Most nostalgic part of Poser animation? i love the way yang's semblance hair looked in the old days. the maya hair is cool too but there's something about how it moved in poser.

Favorite location? visually, the house in TATT. emotionally, RNJRWYOQ's house in mistral still feels so comfy to me, i want everyone to move there at the end of the show.

Theory for the Relic of Choice? it allows you to pinpoint a choice in your life and visualize what would've happened if you'd chosen differently. i don't think it lets you actually go back and change it, though - just take that into account for any future choices.

Theory for the Relic of Destruction? i don't have a serious one but i do think it'd be really funny if it's just like. A Really Good Normal Sword with a spirit that tells you to Kill

Favorite Weiss ship? Bee's Schnees and particularly freezerburn. i'm not much of a fan of bumblebee honestly but freezerburn and monochrome carry bee's schnees hardcore.

What are you looking forward to seeing in Vacuo? Emerald Emerald Emerald i need her character development i need her being awkward with RWBYJ because she doesn't know if they'll continue to accept her

Favorite RWBYxJL character design? imma be honest i didn't like those movies very much. i like jess's design alright.

Characters you want to see redeemed? i would say emerald but she's hopefully not in question at this point. honestly i think all of the villains should get a genuine chance at redemption but my next answer is definitely Neo. my perception of purpose is that, when your purpose is fulfilled and you ascend the normal way (unlike Ruby), your new purpose has to do with bettering your old purpose. whether you had ineffective means or insufficient ends, your target is going to be the same. so i think regardless of whether she comes back as herself or someone else, neo's new purpose will be about ruby. this could be a really cool spin on redemption imo.

Favorite trans character headcanon? urghhh so many characters are so trans in this show. trans ruby is near and dear to my heart though. but trans weiss also kicks ass

What would be your Aura color/color theme? i think it would be pink and green. which one my aura would be idk but they're my two favorite colors and i like how they look together

Favorite voice performance? Lindsay Jones in v9 especially 9x7 through 9x9. they did an incredible job of letting Ruby's emotions pour through and i love how gravelly she got. i've never heard a high-pitched gravelly voice before and it sounds amazing

Favorite opening to sing along to? Trust Love. v7 also has the best intro sequence overall and i will die on this hill

Free space, ask me anything! if you have more questions you wanna hit me with send me asks! i'm always happy to get asked things about my special interests tagging @starlightsaphron @scp-bumblebee. also tagging @yangs-right-arm to be done AFTER she actually watches v9 :p