#like it does get really dark so I’d suggest looking into warnings before getting into it

[whimsyprinx]

as someone who read the unwound series a while back and the uglies pretty recently; they were surprisingly dark books from what i remember (but in like a good way)

!!! they are!!! my roommate and I were both describing the books to each other like “it’s fucked up and really messes with you” because like the fear and like idk despair, hopelessness, etc of the characters in each book is so real and there. Like they live in these ideal utopian worlds, this is all they’ve ever known and what they’ve been taught us okay and good and should be celebrated but then they start to question it and like ofc you the reader are already aware of the horrors but once the characters realize it too it sets in more (imo). I’m gonna be real I haven’t read a book book in A Long Time but unwound is now on my list of books to read and I also wanna try and get all the books for the uglies series again because I enjoyed them a lot.

[uluvjay]

Horners daughter “accidentally” flashing max for the 3rd time and he had enough

Max Verstappen x Horner daughter!

I wrote this as if it takes place before the purity ring blurb!

Warnings?: Cursing, mentions to sex, flashing, slight manipulation?, kissing, I can’t think of anymore

Au masterlist!

The first time it happened max thought it was a genuine accident, your little sister had dropped her iPad right next to you and you had bent over to retrieve it for her; causing the little dress you had on to ride up, just enough for max to catch a glimpse of your lacy thong.

The second time he felt that maybe it wasn’t so much of an accident, the way you had slowly bent down to pick up the fork you dropped and how you flipped your hair over your shoulder had made him overthink your actions.

But by the third time he knew, he knew that none of your flashes had been accidental.

It was after dinner, you and max in the kitchen while the rest of your family gathered outside to start a fire when it happened again.

You had been on one end of the island putting away left overs while he stood on the other end drying the dishes he had just washed when he heard the sound of plastic coming into contact with the wooden floor and a small “Oops”.

And right as the Dutchman looked your way you had bent over way more than needed, and this time he got a full view of your cunt. He cursed to himself at the sight, he’d been on edge since he walked into your father’s house and found you clad in a pretty sundress and this had finally been his last straw.

Setting down the dish he was drying his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you down the hall and out of sight of your family in the backyard.

“What kind of game are you playing here Schat?” He grumbled, pinning your body to the wall.

“What are you talking about Maxie?” You spoke, looking at him with those doe eyes that he adored.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about Y/n. Are you trying to get us caught? Bending over right in front of me today, flashing that pretty little cunt to me while your dads not to far” he spat.

“I-“

“You what? Huh? Let me guess you didn’t mean to? All three times were accidents?.”

“Yes! I’d never do that on purpose Maxie, don’t want my dad to catch us” you pouted, looking at him like you could truly do no wrong.

“Drop the act, we both know how much of a slut you truly are. How would your father feel if he found out all the things I have you doing when your with me? Huh? You think he’d like to hear how quick his precious daughter gets on her knees when I tell her to?” He taunted.

“No! Max please don’t tell him.” You panicked, you knew he wasn’t bluffing, the dark look in his eyes told you all that you needed to know.

“Then I suggest you cut the bullshit and behave baby, Or I won’t hesitate to go out there right now and show him all those videos.”

“Okay! I’m sorry, please don’t show him. I shouldn’t have flashed you! I’m really sorry Maxie.” You pleaded with the blonde.

“There’s my good girl” he smirked down at you, his hand gripping your jaw to pull you into a hurting kiss.

It was hard and dominating, his lips reminding you of your true place. The way his tongue snuck into your mouth and dominated your own, a small groan escaping his mouth at the taste of the sweet lemonade you had been drinking.

Pulling away he kept his large hand on your jaw in a sharp grip, his other moving to sneak under the skirt of your dress to grab a handful of your ass.

“Gonna be my good girl for the rest of the night right?” He questioned.

“Mhm” you nodded hopelessly, fully under his spell now.

“Good, maybe if you’re really good and can make of for your little games I’ll let you come later.” He smirked, his hand that rested on your ass leaving a sharp pinch before he leaned down to give you one more peck and walked away.

-



[magpiepills]

Into The Deep End

Rating: EXPLICIT! 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller: Hole Filler x AFAB reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: you and your friend are invited to swim at the home of her boyfriend’s friend.

Warnings: PIV, dirty talk, little size kink, age gap, swimming, girls kissing girls, multiple orgasms, creampie, drug and alcohol use. no use of y/n, no outbreak, no Sarah, plus perhaps others.

A word for the author: this is a repost! well this isn’t the DBF I had planned. He wasn’t cooperating, so instead you get Best Friend’s Boyfriend’s Buddy Joel and his big dick. The important thing is that we have Joel and we have him in a timely manner!

Kim hadn’t shut up about her boyfriends neighbor all week. “He’s sooo good looking. If it wasn’t for Matt, I’d be all over him. Maybe I’ll be all over him anyway, Matt likes it when I flirt!”

“Isn’t he like, fifty though?” You frown, not looking up from your magazine.

“Nah, he’s forty, tops. Does it matter though? He’s gorgeous. Wait until you see him.”

You were skeptical. It seemed weird for an older guy to invite some college kids to hang out and swim in his pool. You needed some excitement and distraction in your life, though. College had been rough. Classes were grueling and your own boyfriend had unceremoniously dumped you right before finals. It was a killer blow.

“Whats his name? Josh? Jared? Is he really ok with us using his pool?”

“It’s Joel. And he said we can come over any time. He lives alone and he’s always been like a big brother to Matt. Plus he’s so chill. He always has weed, he’s not creepy, he’s fun. You’ll love him. I told him all about you and he seemed really interested in meeting you.”

“Kim!” You admonished and swatted her with your magazine. “Do not try anything with this guy. I don’t need to be set up with an old guy!”

“Just wait until you see him. You’ll thank me.”

And she was right. On Saturday afternoon you and Kim met Matt at Joel’s house. The guys were already in the back yard, music playing, cooler full of beer by the back door, floats in the pool. Kim ran to Matt, and he lifted her into a hug, one hand squeezing her ass in a wide grip. You sat down the bag holding your towel, sunscreen, and tshirt, and said hello to the astoundingly attractive man sitting at the patio table.

“You must be Joel. Thanks for letting us use your pool.”

“Don’t mention it. Matt told me you girls are home for the summer, so feel free to come by any time and swim. Beer?” He gestured at the cooler.

“Please!” You accepted his offer gratefully and watched him press the cap into his big palm and twist it off. Kim was right, he’s gorgeous. Tall and tan, with silver just beginning to thread through his dark, messy hair and dark brown eyes. He had a broad chest and shoulders. You took the beer and sipped, and eyed him as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a slightly soft belly and a trail of dark hair leading under his light blue trunks. Dear god you thought, a giddy feeling welling up inside you with an urge to run your hands over his skin. You felt like such a creep. You imagined touching him and smelling him, laying your head on his chest, biting his shoulder.

“Come in with me!” Kim’s call snapped you out of your thoughts, and you grabbed your towel, spreading it on the concrete. The water was warm, and it felt good to float and splash around a while. A game of chicken was suggested and abandoned, in favor of a round of shots, and you felt a little disappointed that you wouldn’t get to sit on Joel’s shoulders. You’d have to find another way to get your legs around him.

You got out of the pool, toweled off, and rummaged through our bag until you found your sunscreen. Perched on the patio chair, you slathered your arms and shoulders with Hawaiian tropic, and glanced up at Joel, catching his gaze for a fraction of a second before his eyes darted away. He could pretend he wasn’t watching you rub sunscreen on your chest all he wanted.

Kim swam near you and put her arms about your waist, leaning close to whisper in your ear “He’s hot, right? Are you sorry you doubted me?” “So sorry, Kim, I’m going to fuck him, I swear to god.” You said it with a laugh, but you kind of meant it.

After a few more drinks you were feeling bold, you and Kim were getting handsy with each other, a familiar intimacy shared by best friends, but something the two of you’d wielded more than once to draw the gaze of the boys you wanted to tease. Matt was happy to watch, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you and Kim, squeezing each other's hips and casually tugging at each other's bikini tops, dragging fingertips along the edge of the triangles over your breasts, whispering and giggling and all but kissing. “Here we go!” You could hear Matt whoop, finally noticing what you and Kim were doing. You saw Joel shifting down in his seat, adjusting his trunks as inconspicuously as he could, but you knew what he was doing. Your eyes met his and you gave him the smallest smile before turning back to Kim and whispering to her again. The beers you’d drank and the raw attraction you felt for Joel were mixing together low in your stomach and your inhibition was quickly dissolving.

Matt had had enough and jumped into the water, wrapping his arms around you and Kim and making lewd jokes about threesomes that had you giggling and blushing. He had seen enough of you and Kim’s shenanigans to know that it wasn’t going to happen and he eventually pulled your bestie away to the shallow end to make out, leaving you alone. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, and as you tried to decide what to do next, you felt a splash on your shoulder. Joel had came and sat on the edge of the pool, looking down at you and smiling his open, warm smile before slipping in beside you.

“Are you and her and him a thing?” He asked, sounding awestruck that such a thing could happen in his own pool.

“No, just friends. I’ve known Kim for ages, we like to goof around.”

“I never goofed around with my friends like that. What’s your boyfriend think?” There it was.

“No boyfriend. Just all by my lonesome. What about you? Is your girlfriend out with her girlfriend?”

“Damn. I wish. But no, no girlfriend to speak of.”

With that you let him watch as you slowly looked him over, nibbling flirtatiously at your lip, not knowing how you wanted him to respond. He smiled and in better light you might be able to see him blush.

“‘Nother beer?”

“Why not?”

You followed him out of the pool, he got out first, then turned to offer you a hand to pull yourself up. A big, wide, strong, warm hand. Back at the table you sat closer to him, sipping your beer and twisting lazily in the comfy spinning chair.

You chatted for a while, about movies you’d seen, music you liked, books you’ve read, finding you had a lot of things in common. The longer you talked, the closer together you got until your legs were across his lap and he was gently stroking your calves.

Kim and Matt were asleep on a lounge chair, and you really should have woken them up to go home, them in his bed, you on the couch, but instead, you and Joel just looked at them for a moment, and he asked if you wanted to watch a movie.

“It’s not that late, they’ll probably get up soon and want to leave.” He reasoned and you didn’t have an argument.

You just followed him through the sliding patio door, past a sparse but clean kitchen, and onto an ugly sofa that was more comfortable than your own bed.

You groaned when you sank into it, tucking your legs under you. You had slipped on your tshirt, but your now dry bikini was still underneath. Joel’s house was dark and cool inside, the only light coming from the light over the stove in the kitchen and the tv.

Joel put on Night of the Living Dead and came back to the couch with a blanket, tossing it over you. You noticed he had changed into soft looking plaid pajama pants and a gray shirt, smelling like a mix of fabric softener and chlorine. He propped his feet on the coffee table and started the movie.

“It’s ok if you get scared. I won’t tell anybody if you hide your eyes.” He teased.

You told him how you loved scary movies, even though they terrified you.

When the first vaguely gruesome scene came on you pulled the blanket over your face. Joel pulled you against his side with a sigh.

“I’ll tell you when it’s over.” His arm stayed around you though, and you lifted the blanket so he could get under too.

It wasn’t long before your legs were back in his lap and he watched you while you watched the movie.

“This isn’t even that scary. They’re too slow.”

Maybe you were just lulled into comfort by Joel’s presence and warmth, and the way he stroked his thumb up and down your shin, squeezed your ankle gently, massaged your calf…

“Slow’s good.”

His voice was a little deeper, and he was a little closer and you didn’t move away. You turned your head and looked at him, gazing down at you, messy hair and soft eyes.

“Yeah. Maybe slow’s not bad.”

He hummed and brushed his nose against yours.

Your lips met slowly, sliding to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, warm and soft, and his hand on your shin moved up to your knee, up to your thigh, to your hip, where he found the little bow of your bikini bottom and you could feel him smile against your lips .

“Been wanting to do this all day. Ever since I saw you walk in.”

You were surely blushing now. “You should have. All I heard about all day was how good looking you are.”

Joel sat up a little straighter and lifted his eyebrows at that. “Oh yeah? Did I disappoint ya?” He asked while you leaned forward so he could tug your t-shirt over your head.

“When we were in the pool I told Kim I was going to fuck you.”

Your admission stopped him in his tracks, stunned and mouth agape.

“Jesus, you’ve got a mouth on you.”

And you couldn’t stop yourself then. “Mhm. I can show you my mouth.”

Not your sexiest line, but it had the intended effect. Joel was looking at you like he wasn’t sure you were real.

“Come here.” He pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, only your bikini and his pajama pants separating you now, you could feel him, hard and huge.

You circled your hips, making him groan as he kissed you deeply, tongues meeting and swirling gently before he kissed a path down your neck, across your collarbone, and down between your breasts before l pressing a kiss to each one. He slid his hands up your sides as he kissed, and toyed with the thin material of your top before dipping two thick fingers under the fabric and pulling it to the side. He kissed the swell of your breast before licking the firm peak, and sucking it into his warm mouth. Everything about Joel was so soft and warm and comfortable.

“Let me take this off.” He said with his fingers already pulling at the strings tied at the back of your neck. It wasn’t a request, really. He was needy. You quickly untied the strings at your back and flung the whole thing over your shoulder.

He sat back, mesmerized by your tits. He stared, wide-eyed for a moment before cupping both breasts, lifting and squeezing them, kissing and licking your pebbles nipples as he tilted his hips to grind his cock against your covered pussy.

You ran your fingers through his hair, met each movement, surely leaving a wet spot between you, and when you couldn’t take it any more, you reached down and pulled the string on either side of your hips.

“Fuck. Are you going to let me do this?”

You bit your bottom lip, looked at him through your eyelashes and nodded. “You want to fuck me Joel?”

He moved fast, grabbing the fabric out from under you and slinging it away and wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you against his chest while he used his other hand to cover your pussy, the heat of his palm radiating up through your core, sliding his fingers forward and back to gather your slick and spread it through your folds and over your clit.

“You’re so wet. You get wet for me? Like feeling this big cock? This what you need to fill you up?” He lifted his hips to press his cock against your mound, making you moan into his neck.

“Yes. Yes Joel, please.”

Neither of you were going to be able to hold out much longer. You wanted to tease each other, but you needed him inside you.

He lifted his hips again, shimmying down his pants and boxers as quickly as he could. Finally freed, he arranged you on his lap, his cock resting on the curve of your ass, so close to where you needed him.

“You on the pill or somethin’?” He asked as he ran his fingers over your folds again, making you tilt your hips to chase his touch, then stroking his cock with your arousal.

“Yeah. I’m good, got an iud.”

“Good, cause I’m not pullin’ out.” He said, as he positioned his thick head at your entrance and pulled you downward to meet his thrust.

The pinch was extraordinary, but melted out into a warmth that made him feel destined to be inside you. The two of you set a rhythm, you grinding down and him thrusting up, slow and deep, and wet, letting your clit roll against him. Your orgasm crept up, hot and tight in your belly, and he could feel you on the edge of release.

“Want to feel you come on my cock. Squeezin me so tight, feel you soaking me.” He babbled at you and took your nipple back into his mouth, grunting lewdly as he sucked.

It was so much. So many sensations, his mouth, his cock, his hands, his heat, his voice, they crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Joel watched, rapt as you rode it out on his lap, loving how you used his body for your own pleasure, loving how you responded to him, how you took him.

You came back to him with a kiss, blissed out, feeling floaty.

“Fuck, that was good.” You purred to him, no plan to ever leave his lap.

“Gotta fuck you, sweetheart. Y’feel too good.” He throbbed inside you, setting off a small aftershock.

Leaning back, bracing yourself on his knees, you rode him slowly, swiveling your hips, tits on display for him, giving him a good look at where he entered you, and of the thick white ring around the base of his turgid member.

The room spun when Joel flipped you onto the couch. He knelt between your knees, jerking himself at the sight of your swollen pussy, your flushed chest, your kiss-reddened lips.

In a final sprint toward his own finish, Joel pulled your hips up against his, buried himself deep and complete in your wet pussy, and set an unrelenting pace. No words were left except his chanting Fuck, fuck, oh fuck. Oh shit baby. Fuck! Accompanied by your whining, your begging for his cum. You didn’t need to wait long for your reward, although you think you gladly spend the rest of your life stretched around his cock.

He broke with three final thrusts, lips falling open, stilling inside you to spill deep.

Spent and disoriented, Joel dropped his weight onto you while he caught his breath. He kissed your chest, rubbed your side, and lay in comfortable quiet until you tapped his shoulder, reluctantly parting to clean yourselves up.

Joel found your swimsuit for you, and gave you a tshirt to put on. He tried to find the words to ask you to stay, to spend the weekend, the week, the month with him. To keep fucking him and talking to him and eating and watching movies. He wanted to take you out, play your songs, see your apartment, everything that would keep

You in arms reach. But the back door slid open, and there were Kim and Matt bursting your bubble of possibility with their impeccable timing to take you away.

Before he could stop you, your flip flops were on, your keys were in your hand, and you were kissing his cheek goodbye.

[lacybunie]

your sweetheart

“why do you look so scared?”

pairing: afab!reader x leon kennedy

warnings: smut, dark content (not dead dove (i think)), established toxic relationship, degrading, suicidal thoughts, implied forced self-harm, gaslighting, heavy manipulation, possessive behavior, praising, semi-soft sex, pet names, tummy bulge, slight strength kink, unprotected sex, biting, ooc leon, he’s crazy

note: you can use any leon for this!

there’s two sides of being in love: being in love and being loved. you always blushed at the hopeful future that you’ll be with the man of your everlasting dreams. a picture of him in a heart locket, your things in his bathroom drawers, knowing how he likes his coffee, his favorite scents, building a domestic life together. although two other men have ever been with you, you were sure this man was special. since by the second date, you were already planning out a wedding.

but leon couldn’t have been the man of your dreams if he was a nightmare in your life. bitter kisses and rough touches are embroidered into your skin that it’s hard to believe that this is the same man who laughed at all your jokes and fake proposed to you with a candy ring. almost two years of agony-filled tears and broken belongings, yet you can not bring yourself to break away from him. maybe the toxicity is what you like. maybe you’re the reason why he’s yelling at you right now.

“you’ll never find someone better than me.” leon spits, grabbing your face with such anger that he could break your jaw if he really hated you. you peer up at him through glassy eyes, tears dried up, and lips cherry bruised. “there’s nobody else for you.” leon manages to still look so divine when he speaks to you like this, star colored hair covering his sapphire eyes just enough for them to peak through. the warm lighting of the kitchen brings out his soft features that pathetically make you swoon.

“i love you.” you whisper, feeling your heart pounding painfully harder and harder as leon stays silent. his grip on your face leaves as his lips tug into a grin, tongue between his canines. “of course you do.” leon gloats as if he’s won the lottery, intertwining his hand with the handle of the kitchen knife residing in the wooden cube. the food you made for dinner is threatening to come back up when leon waves the knife in front of you. “don’t please.” you plead softly as the blood pumping in your veins becomes ice cold.

“think i’m gonna hurt you?” leon breathes lowly, getting closer to your weak form. your doe eyes take in the way his eyes glimmer with amusement, a smirk finding its home on his lips, he’s clearly basking in this. “no.” you mumble, swallowing dry saliva when the tip of the knife brushes against your neck. you don’t think, you know he would but he chooses not to. “i could kill you.” leon hums, dragging the knife across your forearm before letting it linger on your wrist. his eyes capture yours, a faint flame flickering behind them. free falling down to the concrete pavement would be more peaceful than this.

“you could kill me.” he suggests, forcing the handle of the knife into your hand. you shake your head, stomach eating itself when leon leads your hand to his chest. “you’d like that.” “i wouldn’t.” “don’t fucking lie.” he spews as if you’re the one who said it. lips tremble in frustration as you cannot comprehend what leon is doing, you don’t even know how it all went wrong ten minutes ago. how washing dishes together suddenly became leon degrading you, threatening you. the pitter-patter of rain against the roof is the only thing keeping you from vomiting, and leon yelling at you for doing so.

“would you die for me?” leon questions, closing the gap between you two, the knife quickly withdrawing to your side. the warmth of his body radiates to you, making hell seem cold. your eyebrows knit together at his words, why would he ask that? “i’d do anything for you but-” “i want you to die for me.” leon interrupts you with a exasperated tone. your hands shake as tears welled up in your exhausted eyes, you just want to go to bed. you carefully place the knife on the kitchen island, unsure of what to do as leon’s eyes bore into yours.

“leon, can i please get ready for bed?” you sigh, wiping at the tears barely escaping your eyes. the echo of thunder booms throughout the apartment causing the atmosphere to be more daunting. a scoff leaves leon’s mouth, his jaw tightening at your response. you pissed him off. “hate me so much that you can’t answer a simple question.” leon sneers with venom on his tongue. his stature towers yours, your gut churns at the feeling of being so weak. runny eyes divert down to your ruffled baby pink socks, they’ve never seemed more interesting.

“your question is stupid.” you mutter under your breath before your jaw is gripped once more as leon forces you to look up at him. the blue hues swirling in his eyes are dark and cold, matching the storm outside. bones ache at the posture leon holds you in, he can snap your neck if he pulled back just a tiny bit further. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” leon’s words cut through your head and pierce your brain. the tears you cry match the pace of the rain knocking at the windows. “i’m so sorry, leon. i’ll die for you, i’ll do anything for you! please let me go to bed.” you’re so pathetic.

“is that so?” “yes! please!” you cry into his palm, looking up at him and hoping he has mercy on your damaged soul. leon’s eyes glance at the kitchen island as a smirk slowly finds its way on his pink lips. relief hugs you when he finally lets you go, your hands shake rubbing the tender skin of you jaw. of course he doesn’t let you leave yet, of course he doesn’t let you go find peace in the one place where you’re the most safe. “carve my name into your wrist.” leon says so nonchalantly that you think he’s almost joking. the kitchen knife is placed back into your hand, you’re so dumbfounded that you stare back at yourself in the blade’s reflection.

“what?” you exhale out, ridding yourself of the fear from seconds ago only to breathe it back in. the blue-black eyes looking back at you are unrecognizable. “i’ll do anything for you!” leon mocks, you want to vomit. you want to scream and rip your hair out, you want to jab the knife into your heart instead. death would be much more blissful than being here right now. “i don’t want to do this, leon.” “i’ll do it for you.” leon threatens, his warm hands grab at your wrist but you quickly step back to get them off you. “i’ll do it.” your voice is barely audible, your mouth becomes dry when you shakily place the blade onto your wrist. what are you doing? “just four letters and you’ll go to bed.”

leon’s educated hands carefully bandage up your wounded wrist. your face rests in his chest, slowly breathing in the scent of vanilla. “you did so great.” leon smiles before placing tender kisses upon the white fabric covering your arm. the numbness drowning your body is blocking any feeling, including your thoughts. you’re surprised you didn’t cut a vein. you wished you did. “you’re so mean to me, leon.” you whisper, eyes blurring in and out from drowsiness. why couldn’t he be nicer to you? why couldn’t he leave you alone? why can’t you quit him?

“i’m not mean to you, doll. i wouldn’t be doing this if i didn’t care about you.” leon reassures you with eyes shining like blue akoya pearls. your mouth can’t get any words out when the cologne lingering on his skin has your stomach in knots, reminding you that you’re the one who bought it for him on his birthday. he gives you the same wry smile that was on his lips that day. maybe you’re the mean one. maybe this is all your fault. “you would’ve killed yourself if it wasn’t for me.” he’s right, you would’ve bled out on the pearlescent tiled kitchen and suffer a painful death if he didn’t care. there’s a sharp pain in your head that has you wondering if this is all just a horrible nightmare.

needles prickle into your sore body as leon carefully picks you up, you catch your reflection in the mirror for a spilt second. eyes puffy and skin pale, drained. before you can react, you’re in sweet relief when the comfort of leon’s bed engulfs you. “such a gorgeous girl, how did i get so lucky?” leon hums as his eyes link with yours, affection glosses over the blue. the dim lighting illuminating this somber room, accompanied by the rain outside, is enough to lure you to sleep. the blur in your eyes goes dark for just a moment as your slumber takes over. yet you can’t seem to rest with the way leon is soothing the skin of your thighs. your cunt is throbbing.

“take it off please.” you whimper, gesturing to the blood stained dress hugging your figure. your body trembles as the cotton fabric is slowly ripped away, leon’s hands tenderly kneading warmth into your cold flesh. dark eyes locked onto your lips with each soft gasp you make, observing how you react to the gentle touches to your thighs. the fuzziness in your stomach heats gradually, just enough for your panties to get damper. leon’s fingers stray away from the thin silk covering where you need him most. your thighs rub together as you whine. “what do you want, hm?” his voice is an octave lower, raspy. he wants you just as much.

the echos of thunder are as loud as your pounding heart when you grasp leon’s hand, leading it to your cunt. a tongue in cheek smirk is hazy in your vision when leon hovers over your frame. “c’mon sweet girl, use your words. don’t get shy now.” his voice is sugary water for your dry throat, the want is burning you alive. lips impatiently connect with his in a desperate attempt for leon to stop stalling and fuck you right there. a gasp is caught in your chest when his fingers harshly rub your covered clit before pulling away from your blushed lips. the thumps of your heart rings in your ears.

“i want you to fuck me.” you mutter with a mouth full of cotton, running a hand over his chest and under his tightly-fitted shirt. the precum sticking to your panties is soaking the fabric as your fingers trace over leon’s toned stomach. “yeah? you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight.” leon smiles while kissing your cheek. his mouth find solace in your neck, sucking pinks into your skin. “i need you.” the smirk he makes against your neck gives you whiplash. he can probably feel your racing heart pulse against his lips.

leon swiftly takes off his shirt, scattered scars compliment his sculpted build so well that you feel nauseous with desire. “i need you more, baby.” he cooed. his lips find yours again, the taste of mint coats your tongue. you like the way he kisses you, as if your lips are a blaze that he needs to warm up. leon’s hands make quick work of your panties, nudging his knee in between your thighs which has you grinding on his leg. “dirty girl.” he breathes out. the friction is not enough for your soppy cunt, needing more, needing his cock to relieve you. you want him to break you open, to ease the pain he put you through moments ago.

the crackle of lightning illuminates the room in blue, combating the blue in leon’s eyes. hands shake ever so slightly as you impatiently unbuckle his belt, your wrist is on fire when the metal buckle grazes against the bandage. “you’re gonna hurt yourself.” leon warns, replacing your hands with his. you suppress a moan once leon finally rids himself of his jeans, his cock slapping against his abdomen as he shoves his boxers off. you’re salivating like a starved animal at the sight, the tip of his cock shines with precum. death couldn’t be more blissful than leon.

“you look so cute like this, your body begging f’me.” leon smirks, rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit. the moans vibrating through your throat almost hurts. you’re fiending for him, weeping for him, you could cum at the thought of him fucking you. there’s a hand caressing your cheek, breaking you out of your hypnotic state. leon looks at you with infatuation, or lust, you can never differentiate the two. you do know both looks has your heart bursting. “i love you.” “i know.” he kisses the apple of your cheeks as his cock stretches you out, the air in your lungs exits out in broken whimpers and moans.

leon hides his face in the crook of your bruised neck, his hips slowly snapping against yours. fingertips trace the scars etched into his back, creating new ones as your nails break his skin when the curve of his cock hits your cervix so sweetly. the rhythm he keeps up is enough to make you dizzy. the low moans eliciting from his lips are intoxicating, you grow wetter at the sound. “love this tight pussy, so perfect.” his teeth bite into your shoulder, lapping at the irritated skin with his tongue. you think you see god when the repeated thrusts and bites to your skin is twisting the coil in your stomach in knots.

leon’s hands grip your hips as your cunt tightens around his cock, the loudest spark of lightning hits your ears when leon presses a hand down your lower abdomen. you think you’ve lost it at the feeling of leon’s cock rubbing against his hand, against your stomach. your hand reaches down to feel him and god, you want to cum so badly. “harder, please.” you moan out, chest heavy at the feeling of him splitting you open. his head rests up against yours, eyes searching your tear stained face as his thrusts become harsh. a stray tear cascades down your cheek at the sudden change yet you’re still pathetically moaning out leon’s name.

“greedy little thing you are.” leon groans as he catches your lips in a sloppy kiss. you’re sharing moans in between breaths as leon relentlessly buries himself into your cunt, his fingers finding their place on your clit. the smell of sex and mercury blending into the sounds of skin against skin and thunder makes the pounding in your head almost pierce your ears. you feel faint, like the ecstasy you’re receiving is too much for your body. legs wrap around leon’s hips in an attempt to get him closer to you, his chest is sweaty against yours. hearts beating in sync, both racing erratically.

the overwhelming desire flowing throughout your veins is lethal, an overdose of leon. your chest heaves as you try to gather your surroundings as leon fucks you as if you’re everything yet nothing. there’s tears on the brink of pouring out of your itchy eyes but you hold them back. you wonder what leon is thinking, if he’s overdosing on you as well or if he’s thinking about getting off. “fuck, keep squeezing my cock like that.” he moans, biting the flesh of your neck.

the fuzziness in your stomach is too much to bear when leon’s cock abuses your gummy walls repeatedly. you can’t feel your face, your body, just leon. fingers tug at his hair which earns a grunt from his lips as his own fingers messily rub at your clit. the whines drawing out from you are pitiful, letting leon know you’re about to break. but he knew that before the whines left your mouth, the way your desperate cunt is gripping around him is enough to make anybody get the hint. “cum on my cock, sweetheart. can you do that f’me?”

the nails clawing at leon’s back sink into his flesh as your orgasm crashes into your body. mouth agape yet nothing comes out, eyes screwed shut, back arching off the soft mattress, legs shaking at the intensity. “there you go, baby.” leon praises, kissing you gently as he continues to fuck your cunt. you hold his face as if he’s the only thing keeping you from blacking out. “i love you.” you confess for the umpteenth time as you’re gasping for air, heart punching itself out of your chest. leon weakly smiles, muttering something incoherent against your lips before pulling his cock out of your bruised cunt, cumming on your stomach and thighs with the sweetest moan.

leon’s body collapses on top of yours, exhaustion consuming you as you come down from the euphoric high. the sound of leon breathing and the soft knocks of rain at the window are a lullaby for your depleted mind. the colors of warm white and blue are blurred as your eyes struggle to stay open.

a sting in your arm pulls you back into consciousness. you wince at the feeling. eyes drift to look over at your bandage wrist. leon’s hand is gripped around your injury, squeezing with such strength that reminds you that he could break you if he really hated you. you almost forgot why there’s four letters carved in your wrist, why your mind is exhausted from crying, why you got fucked so lovingly yet so resentfully.

a giddy smile hurts your cheeks as leon suffocates you with peppered kisses around your face. “let’s get you ready for bed.” leon says on your damp skin, his hand leaving his name on your wrist.

[teddyeyeseddie]

The Cherrywood Motel

Starry Haze, Crystal Ball

rockstar!Eddie x housekeeper!reader

masterlist

(a/n: ITS BACKKKK AND SO AM I!! Enjoy my lovelies and visit my blog for some life updates!)

warnings: soft eddie, smut, minors dni, oral (fem rec), p in v, cream pie x 2, riding, showering together, a jump from last chapter.

now playing:

You lug all your clothes into the laundromat down the street, heaving the heavy bag onto the table before you once you’ve made your way inside. The smell of bleach and laundry detergent mixes in your nostrils as you sort your piles of dirties.

It’s early in the morning, the only person in the place being you and an elderly woman. You enjoy the quiet, only the soft whirring of the dryers breaking the silence.

You separate your lights from darks, throwing your first load in when a familiar voice resonates through the quaint room.

“Shit- fuck,” you look over to see Eddie struggling with a bag of laundry. You chuckle to yourself, your eyes meeting his. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hey stranger,” he breathes out as he settles in at the table next to you.

“Hi Eddie,”

Ever since Eddie woke up in your bed, things had been different. Eddie seemed happier, his demeanor not so jittery. You talked more, Eddie revealing more about his life.

You learned he was really a dork. Knows a little too much about horror movies, still plans D&D campaigns for fun, and collects mugs from every new place he goes.

He’s become softer, more himself in the last few days. You found yourself getting closer to him, his magnetic force drawing you in with every little conversation.

His captivating personality had you expressing more things about yourself, like your favorite flower, how you got the scar on your shoulder, and all about your childhood cat, Mr. Snuffles.

Talking to Eddie when he was sober was easy, he didn’t go on unnecessary tangents, he wasn’t as flirty and he looked oh so pretty when he was healthy.

His usual red eyes now pure, no sign of distress in them. He even started taking care of his hair, his usual frizzy locks now smooth and curly. He was doing better. You were proud of him.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,” he says, pulling out all of his clothes and settling them into a pile. He gathers them all in his arms, walking towards a washer.

“Aren’t you gonna sort them?” you ask, chuckling to yourself as Eddie struggles with the large amount of clothes he has in his hands.

“I never do?” he says as if it's almost a question.

“Well, I’m sure you have some 200 dollar shirts in there that are begging to be sorted,”

“My uh- lady at home usually does it. This is how I used to do laundry when I was a kid,”

You roll your eyes, motioning for him to come back to the table.

You sort his dirty clothes for him, it feels pathetic but the smile he has on his face as you help him makes it somewhat worth it.

“You’ve gotta sort lights from darks. I’d suggest separating your whites too but I don’t want you to keel over,”

He chuckles, grabbing the pile of darks and carrying them to a washer. He puts in his quarters, handing you some so you can start the pile of lights.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day?” he questions as he strolls back to the tables where your clothes still lay.

“Nothing really, apartment hunting for a little bit and then back to the motel,” you gather your pile of clothes, turning towards the washers and placing the items inside. Eddie swoops in front of you and puts quarters in for you, you playfully roll your eyes but smile up at him nonetheless.

“Oooh, that should be fun,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “I uh- owe you for bailing me out so just let me know what you need for the security deposit and I’ll write a check,”

“Thank you Eddie, but you don’t have to. I lost your jacket, I bailed you out, were even,”

Eddie shakes his head, curls flying in all directions at the erratic movement.

“Someone stole my jacket from you, you didn’t just leave it for anyone to take. Plus I can,so let me,” he states, eyes locking with yours in a stare.

“Just let me, it’s the least I can do-” you nod your head, allowing the man to help you pay your way into a new apartment.

A feat that was easier said than done, you had looked at 5 separate places with Christa, none of them being anything close to what you wanted or needed.

You finally decide to call it quits and return back to the hotel, smiling when you see Eddie waiting outside your door with a pizza box in his hand. Christa sends you a wink as you get out of the car, a soft “enjoy yourself” falling from her lips.

Eddie grins widely when he sees you step out of Christa’s car.

“Sorry- thought you were home from your hunting,” he motions towards your car that is parked a few spots down from your door.

“Kinda got stuck at our last place. Creepy landlord,” you straighten out the pleats of your skirt as Eddie sucks in a breath in through his teeth, wincing dramatically.

“At least you dodged that bullet,” he says as he leans against the doorframe waiting for you to open it, his slim shoulders doing a good job at boxing you in. The smell of his cologne makes your mind whir, gone are the days of dried puke and alcohol.

You unlock the door, Eddie’s hand pushing it open forcing you to duck underneath his arm. He lets the door close softly behind him once he is inside, being sure to lock the deadbolt.

He places the pizza box on the small table by the window. He draws the curtains, blocking out the rest of the world and turning the room into a space that was only for the two of you.

“Got your favorite,” he motions to the box with his thumb as he walks up behind you. You’re stepping out of your shoes when Eddie’s arm snakes around your front, under your arm and resting on your collarbone. He’s come over every night since the cleaning fiasco, you talk about the ten-day-whirlwind that the two of you have embarked on and get to know eachother even more.

Eddie spends most of his time apologizing when you recall anything from the short time of knowing him, ashamed of how much he had hurt you.

It’s been a week of take-out, today bringing you to day seventeen. Ten days of hell and seven of something in between a raging fire and a rumbling earthquake- scalding your skin and shaking off the dust settled deep in your soul.

His arm comes undone from you, his hand tracing down your tricep, over your elbow, ghosting down your forearm, finally grasping your hand as he draws you towards the radio sitting in the corner of the room.

Eddie liked to dance- he twirled to what he called your “teeny bopper” music, he swayed his hips to country music, he even danced to his own music when you forced him to listen to it one night.

Eddie danced with you tonight- his fingers fit perfectly through yours, his hand rested right in the dip of your waist, his lips looked pretty in this light.

“Are you thinking about kissing me, sweets?” He questions, a smile forming on his lips as he leans forward. You blush nervously, nodding your head. His smile gets even wider before he leans in, lips capturing yours.

Both his hands come to cup your face, cheeks tugging and eyes crinkled as he leans in further. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, pushing backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. You pull away, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for Eddie to take the reins. He chuckles softly before capturing your lips in another soft kiss before pulling away and plopping down onto the couch. He pulls you into his lap, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

His eyes meet yours, his hands fumbling with the edge of your sweater. A plea on the edge of his lips as he looks up at you. You nod, letting him remove the garment from your body. He audibly moans at the sight, your breasts bouncing freely only leaving you in your skirt.

“Please tell me you have panties on,” he mumbles, hand snaking down to your center. He bites his lips and groans when he’s met with your sticky folds.

“S’ laundry day,” you giggle.

His fingers trace through your slick, he has half a mind to shove the fingers in your face, make you lick yourself off of him. But When he glances over your face, your pouting lips and furrowed brow send his heart racing. He decides right then that you're an angel. He thinks there’s no way you're real, there is absolutely no way you’re here with him.

He wraps his arm around your waist, standing from his place on the couch. He walks you back to the bed as you kiss up the side of his neck. He lands you on the middle, arms caging you in as he leans down to kiss you. He’s much slower this time, desperate clashing of teeth melting to well thought out movements.

You pull away from him, hands coming to mess with the edge of his old band tee.

“You’re much too dressed for the occasion, Mr. Munson,” you giggle out. He smiles down at you, getting up to strip out of his clothes. You hold your breath when he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing out and slapping against his belly. It’s big and you’re sure he knows it.

He crawls back up the bed, kissing from your ankle to your neck. He splays kisses across your face, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

His eyes bore into yours as he pushes some hair from your face before kissing you again, but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking.

“M’ gonna eat you out now, kay’?” he mumbles against your lips, you nod, throwing your head back as Eddie begins to kiss back down your body. He stops at the waistband of your skirt, mumbling something to himself before hooking his fingers in the band and pulling the fabric over your bottom.

He moans at the sight of your center, leaning forward to press a kiss to your thighs before diving in completely. He licks from your hole, up to your clit, tongue dancing around the bundle of nerves. Your knuckles grip the white sheets, mind reeling as he works you up to an orgasm. He laps at your pussy, pulling away to spit on his fingers.

His ringed fingers come to push through the sticky mess the two of you have created, one finally pushing in, drawing a guttural moan from your lips. The cold metal of his rings bump against your skin every time he thrusts his fingers in and out. He works you up to three before pulling them out completely, mouth still assaulting your clit, causing you to squeal.

“You ready f’me?” he questions, mouth still between your legs. You tug on his hair, pulling him away from your center, nodding profusely with a smile on your face.

He pushes you further up the bed, settling in between your legs. His cock nudges at your hole, the tip catching inside, you mewl quietly when he pushes in. He leans down, arms settling on either side of your head, his hair tickling your nose as he looks down at you intently.

“So pretty,” You mumble, hand coming up to cup his cheek and draw him into a kiss. He smiles into it, pulling away and admiring the way your face contorts every time he punches that spongy spot inside you.

“S’ all you, sweets,” He moans, forehead pressing against yours as he drives into you. The pace he sets draws moan after moan from deep within you.

Your hand stays cupping his face, kissing him again, your lips barely brushing his when he pulls away.

“C’mon pretty girl, tell me what it is. Wanna know what I should be moaning while I ruin you.”

You shutter a breath out- your name falling off your lips and into the air.

“F-fuck..” he’s full on smiling, his eyes crinkling as he languidly thrusts inside you.

“Eds-Eddie. M’ close,”

“Shit-ok. Where do you want me?” He picks up his pace, cock nudging at all the right places.

“Inside- want you inside,” Your legs lock around his waist, forcing him to bury himself to the hilt as he spills inside of you.

He’s giggling when you finally release him, pulling his still hard cock from inside you and smearing around the mess that has formed between your legs.

“Look so good painted all pretty for me. Could take a picture and look at it all tour long. Would never haveta’ look anywhere else. Just me this little memory and my hand,” he’s pulling your ass cheeks apart, releasing them before his thumb hooks into your pussy as he rummages around on the side table- careful not to knock down the countless polaroids around the camera.

“Can I sweets? Take a pretty little polaroid of this pretty little pussy?” he thrusts his thumb in further, drawing more cum out of you. You giggle when you feel it run down your thighs as you give him a soft hum in response to his question.

He snaps a picture of your most bare area, the idea makes you blush but then there's the idea of Eddie- using it. That makes it feel alright.

“Just wanna take one more,” he says as his cock nudges at your hole again, the puffy skin wanting to scream no but the burn short circuiting your brain at the same time.

He snaps another picture once he’s half inside you, your hands covering your face as you giggle.

“Enough of that,” he says with a small chuckle as he tosses the camera back onto the bedside table. His hands grip your hips as he lazily thrusts into you.

After finally having enough of Eddie’s teasing, you push at Eddie’s belly, signaling him to stop. He flashes you a confused look as he pulls out but soon gets the idea once you scramble off the bed and begin pushing him towards the couch.

He flops down onto the cushions, legs spreading wide. Deft fingers wrapping around your hips as you sink down onto him, your arms snake around his neck and pull at the hair sitting at the nape.

Eddie looks up at you in awe, his eyes never leaving yours as you ride him. His lips are parted, soft breaths and moans tumbling from his mouth.

“Shit- baby I- I can’t last like this-” He groans as he tries to stop your movements. You grab his hand, raising it and placing it on your breast.

“C’mon sweets, come in me again,” He moans sweetly at his own pet name being used against him, his hips stilling once he is settled inside you. He buries his head in your neck as he comes, teeth biting in as he silences himself.

You let him stay inside you for a while, finally pulling off of him when Eddie begins to rub at the skin on your hips.

You’re up on wobbly legs, shooting Eddie a glare when he begins to chuckle.

He throws his hands up in defense and motions to the mess between his legs. Cum has dripped down his balls and pooled in his seat.

“Gonna need to spot clean this one miss housekeeper,” He winces as he gets up, collecting you in his arms and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s shower, yeah?”

You nod, taking his hand as he guides you to the small porcelain tub. He turns on the water, testing it with his fingers before stepping in once it has warmed up. He extends his hand to you, thanking him quietly once you're standing before him in the tiny shower.

He takes a step back, moving out of the spray and allowing you to warm up under the water. You take turns getting your bodies warmed up, Eddie finally assuming his position behind you washing your hair.

“You mentioned tour,” you blush as you recall the memory from moments ago. Eddie’s stops scrubbing your scalp and sighs.

“I- I’m leaving,” he says in an almost whimper.

“Oh, when?”

“Two days,”

[multifandomlover01]

Plans

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (not AFAB specific)

Established Relationship

WC: ~1k

Summary: Spencer did indeed have plans…he just didn’t know about them. Later they change, but only slightly.

Warnings: suggestive comments but no actual smut, lingerie, slight dom!reader and sub!Spencer dynamic (but nothing to an extreme sense), hair pulling kink (with his S5 hair? a given apparently lol)

Ep: 5x20

credit: criminalmindscaps

credit: criminalmindsmoments

“I didn’t have any plans.” Spencer says.

“Yeah you did. You just didn’t know about them yet. Damn.” You say.

“What do you mean by that?” Spencer questions.

“Let’s just say that Emily wouldn’t have been the only one sinning this weekend.”

“Ooh you were almost one lucky dog.” Derek smirks.

Spencer gives him a glare as you pass by him but stop and lean down to whisper in his ear so Derek could not hear.

“For the sake of professionalism, don’t ask me what’s under this dress.”

Spencer’s cheeks flush as you walk away. Derek notices and chuckles.

(Time skip to like…back in shared apartment back home)

“Hey, Emily wanted me to tell you that she came through for herself and Derek.”

“What do you mean?”

“She said that they owed you.”

“Oh. Yeah. But they haven’t paid me back yet. They haven’t given me anything or done anything for me.”

“Well Emily gave me something and it’s about to do something for you, I can tell you that.”

“What’re you talking about?” He asked, more confused.

You took your shirt and shorts off to reveal a dark blue two piece lingerie.

Spencer’s eyes scanned your body before his gaze met yours again.

“Wow.”

“So…their debt paid in full?”

“I dunno, I haven’t enjoyed my gift yet. I do get to take it off of you now, right?” His eyes were pleading.

“The gift was the lingerie itself, I believe. What happens after is a moot point.”

“Well I’d say it’s not paid in full until you’re full.”

“But they already paid you back technically via me by giving me lingerie. Is it pronounced veea or veyea?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” His hands caressed your waist.

“You don’t know?” You chuckle.

“I think it’s the second one you said.” He says, totally more interested in how you look and feel than what you’re saying.

“You think?”

“I don’t care about Latin right now, ok? I only care about you.”

“Since when do you not care about Latin, mister?”

“Since my beautiful girlfriend took her clothes off to reveal she’s wearing lingerie.”

“Ok…fair enough.”

“Besides…I’ll always care about you more than Latin, or statistics or anything else, for that matter.”

“Really? Even statistics?”

“Yes, really.” He smiles.

“But…you love statistics.”

“Well I happen to love you more.”

“Aw…that’s sweet, hon.”

“Not as sweet as you.” He smirked.

“That’s so cheesy.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“You love it.”

“Shut up.” You murmur.

“Make me.” He challenged.

“Oh? Is that a challenge?”

“Mhm.” He nods, smirking, seeming way too confident.

“You sure you wanna challenge me?” You asked, matching his smirk.

His smirk almost faltered but he was able to maintain his composure. His smirk endures. But so does yours. He manages to nod.

“For someone so smart…you sure are dumb.” You tease lightly.

His smirk now does falters as you place your arms on his shoulders hook your hands together behind his head. (?)

He gulps. “I’ve made a big mistake challenging you, haven’t I?” He whispers softly as he looks at you, brows furrowed.

“Oh, so there are those brain cells.” You tease lightly. (Alternative: "Oh, so there's that genius level IQ.")

He frowns at you but his disgruntlement quickly dissolves when you tug on his hair. He grunts softly.

“You know what that does to me.” He is still whispering softly and he’s trying to appear mad but you both know he’s practically putty in your hands at this point.

“Hence why I’m doing it.” You smile as you give his hair another light tug.

He gasps sharply. “Good God woman, have mercy.” He hisses softly.

“You were the one who challenged me to make you shut up. You know how effectively I can do that, hon. You brought this upon yourself…and you’re loving it.” You lean in to whisper in his ear, which makes him shiver and even whimper slightly. You smirk. “Say it. Say you love how much power I have over you. Say you love how much you love it when I tug your hair. Say you love how much you love that I can shut you up.”

“I-I love it. I love the power you hold over me. I love how vulnerable I can be around you. I love how much I can trust you. I love it when you tug on my hair. Half of the reason I grew it this long was to give you more to pull on. I usually hate it when people cut me off but you never do that. You only ever shut me up in very specific circumstances, like in these times of intimacy and I did in fact challenge you to make me shut when I should’ve known better. I love how you can wipe my smugness and my cockiness and even my IQ away with just the simplest of touches. Dear god I just love you so much.” He breathes out quickly. It almost seems like his words are flying out of his mouth without his brain registering them first.

You blink as you process what he’s said, your heart melting. "S-Spence, I-"

"Can I take the lingerie off now, please?" He whispers softly, uncharacteristically interrupting you, a pleading expression adorning his face.

You chuckle at the whiplash you got from he going from the most heart-felt confession about the way he feels about you to him pleading to see you naked.

"Ok, needy boy, ok, fine, you can take it off." You smirked.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispers as his fingers make quick work of removing the lingerie from your body.

Emily gave the two of you a knowing smirk from across the bullpen as Spencer sauntered into the BAU offices the next work day morning with a smile on his face and his arm around your waist. She knew she'd paid Spencer back for making he read all those journals in that uncomfortably stuffy building. She knew she'd paid him back real good.

[vodika-vibes]

Hello!

I've been reading your Star Wars The Clone Wars stories for a long time and you're really great at what you do! I would like to ask you a little question, would you write something with Commander Colt? His love interest is close to another clone and Colt is jealous because of it. It could be fluff, slight angst, suggestive or smut. Your choice of course. I'm your fan, best regards! ❤❤❤

Pick Me

Summary: Basically what the request says, lol

Pairing: Commander Colt x Reader

Word Count: 958

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Hihi! Thanks for the request! Sorry that it took so long to get to, but I was, like, super sick the last two days. Food poisoning is no fun. I'm glad that you enjoy my writing, and I hope you enjoy this!

“You look like you’re having a good day,” You turn and grin at Colt as he walks over to you.

You take a moment to admire him, he really is absolutely gorgeous in his armor, but you very quickly push the thought to the side. “I am having a good day,” You say gleefully, “Spanner has been practicing his cooking and he’s making my favorite dinner tonight.”

Colt doesn’t say anything for a moment, and when you look at him, you note his smile seems pained, “You don’t say. I didn’t realize that you and Spanner were dating.”

“What? Oh, no. Not at all.” You say with a laugh, “I’m well aware that I’m going as a taste tester and nothing more.”

“Does he know that?” Colt asks wryly.

“Not my problem.” You answer with a shrug, “Anyway, was there something you needed, Colt?”

He gazes at you silently for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face, and then his smile becomes slightly wry, “No. There was something, but it’s not important.”

“You sure? If it’s important I can give you all the time you need.”

His smile becomes a little more real, “Yeah. I’m sure. It’ll hold.”

“Well then, if you’re sure,” You grin at him and take a step back, “I have to go and change into something less covered in grease before I meet up with Spanner-”

“You look great.”

“Yeah, the grease brings out my eyes,” You joke, and Colt laughs softly, “If you change your mind, or if you just want to talk, Colt, you know where to find me.”

“I do know where you sleep,” He says with an easy smile.

You laugh, “Pick a hallway, it’ll lead you to me eventually.” You back away a little more, “I’ll see you later, Colt.”

“Yeah. Have a good night.”

Your smile is blinding, “You too, try to get some rest. The cadets won’t burn down Tipoca City if you’re not looking for one night.”

“You have more faith in the cadets than I do.” Colt says dryly.

You laugh, and wave, “Night Colt,” and then you turn and hurry down the hall. 

*******

You hurry into your suite, and shower quickly, and by the time you’re out of the shower and have clean clothes pulled on, there’s a knock on your door.

You press the door control pad, and blink at the surprise at the man on the other side of the door, “Colt?”

“Yeah, hi.”

“Hi.” You grin at him, “You’re not Spanner.”

“Ah…no. No, I’m not. Spanner can’t make it.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Is that right?”

“There’s a problem with the food…some cadets got into it, and he’s not going to make it.” Colt explains easily. You move to the side to allow him into your home.

“And he couldn’t even comm to let me know?” You ask, offended.

“He’s probably embarrassed.” Colt replies with a shrug.

You fold your arms and sigh, “I guess this means I have to cook my own dinner. Would you like to join me?”

Colt lifts his gaze from where they were trailing over your bare arms, and a small smile crosses his face, “I’d love to.” And then his gaze drops again, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not totally covered.”

“Yeah, well, the last thing I want is to get grease on my bare skin.” You reply as you lead him into the kitchen, “I tend to wear more clothes when I’m working, and this is casual for me.”

“You should wear casual clothes more often,” Colt notes, “You look good.”

“You would say that even if I was wearing a burlap sack, Colt.” You say with a laugh.

“And it would be true.” Colt replies.

You shake your head, “You’re impossible.” And then you focus your attention on your fridge, “Let’s see, what do I have-”

“I have a confession,” Colt says after a moment, “Spanner didn’t cancel willingly.”

You turn to look at him, surprised, “He didn’t?”

“I mean, the cadets did get to the food, but that’s because I let them.” Colt admits, “And he would have still come, but I assigned him to cadet duty-”

“Colt,” You step closer to him, “Why would you do that?”

“I couldn’t stand the idea of him here with you.” Colt says as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, “The jealousy got the better of me…I should work on that.”

“Jealous…Colt, why would you be jealous? Spanner is just a friend.”

“He doesn’t see it that way.” Colt says quietly, “And…I just…I want you to pick me. The idea of you picking anyone else, especially one of my brothers-”

“Colt.”

“-and I know I shouldn’t have. I know this.” Colt continues.

“Colt!” You step closer to him.

“And I should probably apologize to him-”

You sigh and stand on your toes, pressing your lips against his to stop the slew of words. And then you take a step back, and you look up at him.

Colt is staring at you, his jaw slightly slack. He almost looks like he’s rebooting, you think with an amused little smile. 

“Are you back with me now?” You ask with a growing smile.

“I…yes?”

“Good.” You reach up and lightly press your hands against his cheeks, “This, Colt, is me picking you. As if there was any other option.”

He exhales slowly, and Colt doesn’t say anything as he takes a moment to process your words, and then he huffs out a quiet laugh. “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d like that very much,” You reply.

And then his lips are on yours and it’s a much, much better kiss than the one that you used to make him stop talking.

[bookyeom]

minghao + “I noticed.”

Sorry this took me so long my friend!!! Here you go!

A/N: If you read and enjoy this, please reblog and/or send a comment! I’d love to know what you think.

Pairing: Minghao x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: swearing, art slander

Rembrandts, Monets, Picassos, Cézannes. Art pieces you’ve been dying to see since you were young and dreamed of Europe, all replicated in full and brought together in one spot for you to be in awe of.

And yet all you can do is make googly eyes at the man next to you, and hope he doesn’t notice.

Minghao, your classmate. The one you’d had a crush on since he sat next to you in your Race, Gender and Sexuality in Art seminar. The one who had snorted under his breath at a pretentious comment made by your balding, white, British professor, and who had subsequently made the professor look stupid when he’d been called out. You were impressed at the audacity of the dark-haired boy, and you’d told him so. A simple ‘nice one’ was what you’d whispered after the scene had died down, and you’d been rewarded with a smile and a giggle so different from the persona he presented that it had stunned you. (You hadn’t done much but stare at him for a solid minute after he thanked you and turned back to the lesson, so confused as you were by this boy that you’d never met before in your life.)

Since that first day, you’d sat next to each other, and you’d quickly decided that your new goal for the semester was not to get good grades – it was to make Xu Minghao laugh. 

“Why is this class about race and gender being taught by an old, white man anyway?” He’d asked under his breath another day, and the snort you’d involuntarily let out was rewarded with another giggle from him. The amount of times the two of you have been shushed by your professor has quickly gotten out of hand, but you don’t care. Minghao tends to say exactly what you’re thinking, and you’re in awe of how easily he’s able to verbalize his thoughts. You’re in awe of him for a lot of reasons, actually; he’s good at art, he’s intelligent, he’s hilarious.

He’s also terribly cute, which has proven to be entirely devastating for you.

You’re friends, of that much you were sure, but you never could really read into it much more than that. The two of you had exchanged phone numbers early on, sending messages mostly about your homework at first, but it had quickly progressed into jokes about your professor and had snowballed from there. Soon after, the flirting had begun, and you had been incredibly confused and unsure because he had been so Minghao about it all.

Then one evening you’d gotten a text from him that read: ‘Do you want to go out with me to the City Art Show tomorrow? I got two tickets,’ and you’d nearly shit yourself. 

Y/N (7:56pm): just us two?

Hao (7:57pm): that’s usually what a date is, yeah ;)

And now here you are, almost exactly 24 hours later, entirely unable to focus on some of your favourite artwork because of him. It isn’t your fault that he looks so good. He always does, but you’ve never seen him like this before – dressed up far more than his usual baggy hoodie, looking every bit like your art hoe dream boyfriend. What are you supposed to do other than look?

Thankfully, you manage to make it out of the museum without him calling you out on it, much to your relief. He suggests a walk, and you’re grateful for the fresh air, trying your best to suppress all thoughts of holding his hand as you stroll. The two of you eventually find a bench, and you’re fidgeting with your fingers when he speaks up.

“Did you like the museum?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly. Wish I’d gotten to see more of it without you distracting me, you gorgeous motherfucker. 

“What was your favourite part?”

“Um…” You wrack your brain in an attempt to remember something, anything, about what you’d seen. “The Monet one?” 

You watch as Minghao’s face falls. “Oh… yeah.”

“You know, the one with the flowers?” Why are you still talking?

“Right,” Minghao says, monotone, and you really wish you could melt into one of the puddles on the ground below you. It’s silent, and he doesn’t try again, and you turn towards him abruptly.

“Minghao,” you say, a little desperate, and you hope he can’t tell that you’re sinking right now as you try to come up with something to explain yourself. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I wasn’t really looking at the artwork much–”

“I noticed,” Minghao says resignedly. “That’s too bad. I really thought you’d like the exhibit.”

“I did,” you try to explain, but you know there’s no real way out of this without telling him the truth. “I mean, I tried to! I just didn’t… absorb much of it. I’m tired, I think, and I–”

“It’s okay,” Minghao says with a shrug that you think is meant to appear nonchalant, but you can tell he’s dejected by the way he’s leaning back against the bench, arms crossed in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not for everyone.”

You stare at him for a moment, brain running a million miles a minute. Then you snap.

“Oh my god, Minghao,” you whine, “I’ve been dying to come here. When you asked me, I almost levitated. I wanted to look at it all, but I couldn’t stop looking at you the whole time!”

Minghao blinks.

You blink back.

You’re absolutely mortified. 

Your hands fly up to cover your face, willing for the ground beneath your feet to open up and swallow you whole. 

“Hey,” he says, and you suddenly register the soft squeak of his giggle. 

You peer over at him through your fingers to find him absolutely beaming. Was he laughing at you? You hide behind your hands again, trying to figure out how best to escape this disaster. 

“Come on,” he tries again, “look at me.” 

You can hear him smiling.

You startle as you feel fingers gently curl around your wrists, but you don’t resist as Minghao gently pulls your hands down and away from your face. He lets go once he can see you again, one of his hands lifting to scratch at his ear, and you can’t help but watch the movement. Are the tips of his ears red?

“I’m sorry,” he starts, and you can tell he’s trying not to smile again as the corners of his mouth turn up. “I just really thought you were bored the whole time,” he explains, and you know you’re in for it when he smirks. “I have to say, I find this reason much more interesting.”

You groan, and he giggles again, and you hate how damn cute he is. 

“I’m going to go and hide my face forever now,” you announce, rising onto your feet so quickly that you almost trip. 

“Hey,” Minghao protests. He’s fast to stand up, too, catching your elbow before you can eat shit. “Don’t do that.” You look up at him in question, and he adds, “...Professor Mackenzie is going to miss you if you hide your face forever.” 

You gape at him for a second, and then you’re turning on your heel and getting ready to make a run for it.

You don’t make it very far before his hand finds your sleeve, pulling you back, and you’re surprised when you find yourself flush against his chest. He’s laughing, but his arms are around you as he squeezes you in a quick hug before he’s letting you go, so fast you can barely process, his hands on your arms as he grins down at you.

“I’m sorry,” he tries, and you pout involuntarily. “I was distracted in there too, you know.”

You scoff. “Sure.” 

“I’ve come here before, so I didn’t need to focus so much on the art,” Minghao continues, ignoring you. “What I had to focus on this time was not looking at you.”

It takes you a minute to process his words. “You’re just saying that because I said it first,” you finally say after a minute, ignoring the fluttering in your chest at the thought, and Minghao shakes his head.

“It’s true. I always feel like that when you’re around – in class, too. And you look really pretty today.”

You have to physically stop your mouth from falling open. What the hell?

“Oh,” is all you manage, and then he’s biting back a smile again.

“Yeah, oh,” he returns, squeezing your arms fondly. “So if you can forgive me for not focusing tonight because I was looking at you, then I’ll forgive you for it, too.”

“Deal.” You stick out your hand and he shakes it with another giggle. You feel a cheeky smile finding its way onto your own lips as you add, “And don’t worry about me not seeing the art… I found another subject far more riveting anyway.” 

Your new goal: to make Xu Minghao blush more often.

Tags: @savventeen @wqnwoos @starsstuddedsky @dejavernon @tae-bebe

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist! <3

[n0v4t33z]

The Syndicate - Chapter 2: The Traitor

Pairings: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Ateez X Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is a Detective with a promising future in the police department until she's kidnapped by the infamous mafia boss Choi San and from him, she learns the dark secrets her superior has been hiding the whole time so she teams up with him in order to put a stop to it.

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Language, Graphic Violence, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), y/n gets roughed up by Wooyoung in the beginning , Slow Burn, Fluff sometimes, Work In Progress, Non-Idol AU, Mafia AU, Very suggestive at times, y/n cries alot, y/n having inner turmoil, Ateez being bad boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang are a little mean in this story tbh, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Assassination attempt(s)

I'll update tags as the story progresses

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Please Reblog if you like it! 🔁

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note: So here it is, Chapter 2! I wanted to at least try and post a chapter for San's birthday so this is it! I hope you guys enjoy it!💜

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

“So you’re the infamous Detective that San has kept his eye on for the longest..” Hongjoong asks while fidgeting with the keys in his right hand. “Infamous?” I quietly answer back and he nods silently almost like I was being judged. Something tells me he really doesn't like me I can already tell by the way he's looking at me. “Yeah, ever since you joined Ulwood PD you’ve been costing us a lot of business.” Taken a back from the bluntness I gather my courage and respond but this time a bit more respectful not wanting to start an argument and possibly anger any of them again. "Really? So besides my superior having something San wants that's one of the reasons why you guys decided to kidnap me?" Hongjoong lets out a small exhale from his nose "In a way, yes. That as well but not majorly." I slowly nod "What if I get my superior to make a deal with San to return whatever it is he wants?" Hongjong shakes his head, his earrings making a faint jingling noise "Maybe you should speak to San about that." I look over at Hongjoong who was looking straight ahead while we walk the dimly lit corridor, I didn't get a good look at his face before but he looks fairly young. Definitely shorter than the rest too, except Wooyoung. Luckily enough the silence doesn't last too long as we arrive outside San’s office so I didn't have to deal with the awkwardness much longer, Hongjoong opens the door “Here she is, I will be outside.” He slightly pushes me to sit down and closes the door behind him. San then stares at me for a bit and without breaking eye contact he says “Sit down Detective.” Stay focused, try negotiating with him. I carefully sit down on the leather chair in front of San’s desk while he clicks his pen a few times then sets it down. “First of all, before anything I’d like to apologize about what happened with Wooyoung. He wasn’t supposed to beat you like that.” I roll my eyes “Right, care to explain why you abducted me?” I want to hear this from the man himself and not his "inner circle" goons. San looks over at me with a deadpan expression “You’re ransom Detective. Something that belongs to me is in possession of Ulwood PD, not just that but Captain Lee owes me for all the stuff he’s been putting my family through. He’s no saint, and what a better way to taunt him than taking his secret weapon against us, you.”

Captain Lee? He’s always been a very respectable man and very stern. What does he have to do with the Choi’s and Aurora Syndicate? I look at San slightly suspicious “Captain Lee? Ever since I joined Ulwood PD, he’s been a very good role model of what a Detective should be. What does he have to do with your family?” San looks away almost like he was holding in a laugh then says “Oh come on Detective, can't you read between the lines? I guess he’s been keeping his double life under wraps from everyone in the department.” I glare at San. “What are you trying to say? Captain Lee works for you?” He smirks and slightly nods “Good guess, but it's more like he used to. The man is a crooked cop.” His face then grows serious again and he continues “ He used to work for my father. He’s also the reason my father got murdered. He began to work with a rival mob, The Obsidian Dragon a few years back which led to him giving away my father’s location to those people.”

No way, no fucking way. Captain Lee was one of the organizers for this hit and I’m the one having to suffer for his mistakes? “Why not abduct him? Why was I brought into this?” San pushes his glasses with his middle finger and sits back on his chair “Well, if we kidnap him he’ll be marked as a hero and that’s what I don’t want. I want him to be known as my father’s killer, and what a better way to bring attention to it than when a very infamous and well known Detective is kidnapped and in order to save her his whole team has to slowly unravel how evil and dirty he is. If he doesn’t give in, either way he’ll be seen as a terrible and incompetent person for letting a gifted Detective die in order to save himself.” I slowly clench my fists. This has to be a crude joke.

“I need proof of Captain Lee doing the things you’re claiming. I can’t just take your word for it, I don’t trust you.” San opens the drawer next to his desk and sets a file about an inch and a half thick in front of me “These are photos of him and my family and documents with his handwriting on it. Not to mention there are photos of him meeting up with someone from The Obsidian Dragon” I open the folder and the first thing to catch my attention is a picture of a dinner with presumably the Choi family and next to San’s father is Captain Lee smiling brightly. I squint my eyes to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me then I look over to a financial document with Captain Lee’s signature. I look at a few other photos carefully examining if it was the right person and to my disappointment it was. It’s Captain Lee, I'd recognize his signature anywhere and the man in the pictures looks exactly like him including his golden tooth. I look over at San in complete shock and San smirks and raises his eyebrow “You believe me now?” I slowly nod then I close the file and set it back on San’s desk in disappointment.

“This has to be a misunderstanding, he’s a great person I know so. I’m sure there has to be a reason he did this.” San throws his head back and laughs and says “The man loves money Detective, the difference between us and him is that the majority of us had nothing at one point but desperation to survive while this man has had money and a good life from the beginning. Also, what type of person kills their best friend over money? ” My body runs cold, and my stomach drops “The Phantom was friends with him?” There is a slight hint of disappointment in San’s voice “Yeah, so close I even called him uncle when I was a child.” Oh no, why do I feel bad for this man? When he's the reason Ulwood’s crime rates went up to begin with. I sigh and Sympathetically look at him “Look, I’m so sorry he caused all this pain to you and your family but there’s no reason to keep me here to get back at him. That file you showed me has enough evidence to send him to prison for the rest of his remaining life, I'll do that for you only if you let me go.” San looks at me for a few seconds and he shakes his head “No, i’m sorry.” I scoot up closer to his desk and I put my hand over the file “Please, you can do this the right way instead of possibly ruining your life.” He sits up and leans over the desk close to me and in a very calm voice he says “My life is already ruined Detective, all the things I've done are enough to send me to prison for the rest of my life. The least I should do with the last of my freedom is to destroy the man who killed my father.” I sit there for a while processing his final decision “Well, all I’m hoping is that Captain Lee does the correct thing although now I’m doubting it.” I have a feeling I’m going to die here now. “I sent the ransom note about an hour ago so we’ll have to wait for his answer in maybe a few days.” A few days?! I know for a fact we usually see ransom calls and answer them right away, why is he just going with a ransom note? "Why a ransom note when you can just call?" A smirk appears on his face "It makes it a little more dramatic, it's amusing, Even more knowing how much he's probably freaking out" I scoff and look at the book case to my left. He's such a childish man, it's ridiculous.

Out of nowhere my stomach growls and I clutch my stomach then San curiously looks over at me “Are you hungry?” I quietly nod then he grabs a radio from his desk and says “Hongjoong, can you escort the Detective to the guest room.” Hongjoong sounding a bit confused says “Uh yeah, sure right away.” The door then opens a few seconds later and Hongjoong walks towards me but before he reaches over to grab my arm I take off my badge and set it on San’s desk “Here, I have a feeling I won’t be needing this anymore.” San gives me a slightly confused look then Hongjoong escorts me out.

The walk to the guest room was excruciatingly quiet so I begin to lose myself in my own thoughts until finally we arrive at the guestroom. Hongjoong continues to hold my arm tightly while he opens the door. After opening the door Hongjoong walks me inside the guest room and sits me down on the bed and says “This is escape proof, so don’t even try.” He exits the room, and after hearing the door lock I lay down and begin to silently sob. I don’t want to die here, I want to see my family, I want to fall in love and have a family. I close my eyes and I slowly drift to sleep hoping that the horror I was living is just a dream.

Later, I’m gently nudged awake then I groggily open my eyes and I see Seonghwa holding some food “Hey, San got you some food. He didn’t know if you were allergic to anything so he just went with steamed rice and veggies and for your drink it’s apple juice but in a bottle so you know we didn’t mess with it.” He helps me sit up while I quietly wince in pain trying to sit up “Oh, thank you. Do I get these removed too?” He opens the food and says “I would but I can’t. The only one who can is San, my apologies Detective. I can still feed you though so it’s okay.” I look over to the food then I nod slightly disappointed “I see. Well, since we have to get that familiar with each other with you feeding me and all call me Y/N.” He chuckles and grabs a spoonful of food and feeds it to me “Alright Y/N, my name is Seonghwa but you can just call me Hwa when it’s just us.” Something tells me he's friendlier than the rest here “So Hwa when did you start working here?”

He hesitantly smiles and feeds me another spoonful of food and says “Well, I started working here a little before San’s father passed away. You? When did you start working as a detective?” While I chew I think for a few seconds “3 years this march as an actual detective, I’m honestly still not really used to it though I still have slip ups where I start talking like a civilian.” He opens the apple juice and puts a straw in the bottle “Oh I see, so you’re somewhat still new to the department?” I nod then I take a sip of my juice “Yes, but I guess weirdly enough people at the station no longer see me as the newbie because of the case clearing rate. streak I have" He hums in acknowledgement "I've heard, you're a criminal's worst nightmare." we both quietly chuckle then I ask "So, are you friends with San and all those guys I've seen?” He sets the juice back on the floor “Oh, yes. In a way we’re all friends although sometimes we do get into pretty heated disagreements.” I furrow my brows while focusing on the wall behind Seonghwa.

“So then does that mean I'm going to have to see the one who hit me? Wooyoung I think was his name.” He gently pats my shoulder “Unfortunately you probably are but don’t worry he’s not going to hit you anymore, San got onto him about it. It’s weird because this is the first time San has gotten upset over something like this happening, usually he doesn’t really care when Wooyoung goes around beating the people we’ve kidnapped. Then again this is the first time we’ve kidnapped a cop.” That’s weird I didn’t think he’d even care either, I thought maybe Wooyoung somehow messed up the procedure or something like that. Seonghwa continues “Let's have you finish eating so you can clean up and change clothes." Later, after Seonghwa finishes feeding me he helps me up and says "San got you a really pretty dress so you can wear it after your bath"

Embarrassed, I respond "Wait what? You're going to give me a bath?!" He chuckles and says "No silly, San is going to help you since he's the only one who is able to remove your handcuffs" Confused, I scrunch my nose and say “Why him?” Seonghwa shrugs and gives me a confused face “Honestly, I have no idea that’s just what he told us.” I look down and fidget with my hands then I say "So you're leaving then?" He reaches over and holds both my hands "I'm sorry, but don't worry I'll try coming back as much as I can." I sigh and with a slight disappointed tone in my voice I say "Okay..” He picks up the leftovers and gets up then the door opens behind him. I watch as San enters the room with a few shopping bags. Surprised, Seonghwa looks over at San and says “Oh hey, I was just about to go get you.” San walks over to the bed and sets down the shopping bags and says “Thanks for helping her eat, can you tell Yunho to let me know when something comes up regarding the ransom?” Seonghwa nods and closes the door behind him leaving me alone with San.

I watch him glance at me for a few seconds then sit next to me. “How are you feeling?” Why is he asking me how I feel? This is so weird. I shrug and say “I’m still in pain but I feel way better than I did earlier but I'm sure the bruises will come in tomorrow.” He smiles and says “I’m glad you’re feeling better, also was the food okay? I didn’t know what to get you since I didn’t know if you had food allergies or not.” Is he joking? Why is he asking me if I liked the food or not? Why does he care if I have food allergies? Why is he being so nice? He might be trying to get me to talk by being nice. “Food was good, don't worry.” He looks over at my hand cuffed hands “If I take these off of you do you promise me you won’t try to escape?” I might take a leap of faith and try but without hesitation I respond “I promise.” he uncuffs my hands and I gently massage my wrists and press my lips together forcing a smile. “I never say this to criminals but thank you, for like the food and everything.” He gives me a soft smile and says “Of course, now it’s time for you to get cleaned up and wash off all that blood off of you.” Should I ask him why he’s being so nice? Or is it too soon? Maybe.

I get up and stretch then San stands up next to me and chuckles gently patting my head “Oh wow you’re really short Detective, I've never seen such a short cop before. it’s actually kind of cute. I’m surprised you were even allowed to be in the police academy.” Oh my gosh did he just call me cute? The man is really committing himself to get something out of me. I raise an eyebrow in confusion “Gee, thanks but just in case you didn’t know I can do alot of damage despite my small stature.” He looks down at me and smirks “Yeah I know, which is why I’m the only one who can uncuff you.” If I change the subject maybe he’ll stop being weird. “So where’s the bathroom?” He leads me over to a door next to the entrance “There’s a shower in there but I’ll tell you right now the door has no lock so I can easily check up on you if you get too quiet.” Ew no. What if he’s being a pervert and watches me shower then what? I cross my arms in front of my chest and I say “Fair enough, just don’t be a pervert or….”

We both exchange looks for what feels like forever then he gently lifts my chin with his finger and says in a low voice “Or what Detective?” He’s good. My face gets hot and I swat his hand away from my face “I’ll press charges on you for harassment when I get out of here.” San lets out an amused laugh “Oh, are you really? But can’t I just admire a woman’s beauty?” He proceeds to push his glasses up with his middle finger then winks at me. I give him a disgusted look and walk into the bathroom closing the door behind me then from the other side of the door I say “I bet this is why you don’t have a girlfriend because you’re so weird!” I hear San laughing on the other side of the door and say "I was kidding!" I roll my eyes and get in the shower letting the water completely soak through my hair while I stand in the shower with my eyes closed wondering if what was happening right now was actually happening or a weird figment of my imagination from a breakdown or something. I mean being a cop is not necessarily an easy thing and I'm constantly under excruciating pressure from my superiors. So maybe my mind is making it all up.

After showering, wondering whether I'm in reality or not and occasionally checking the door in fear of San looking at me at my most vulnerable state. When I get out I see a nice robe and put it on. When did this robe get here? Where are my clothes? Did he seriously somehow come in without me noticing? I open the bathroom door and I see San standing next to the door on his phone I then ask “Did you take my clothes?” He nods then turns to look at me “Yep, I did. I bought you some clothes but I don’t know if you’ll like them though I asked my mom what a girl likes to wear and she said a nice casual dress will do.” I ran my fingers through my wet hair trying to comb it out “Oh, okay. I swear if you looked at me in the shower.” He shakes his head and pleadingly responds "I didn't I promise." I need to watch out for him, he's good. Maybe he's lying. He scratches the back of his neck and hands me the shopping bag “I also bought some um… you know underwear and some bras.” I grab the bag slightly embarrassed. What happened to me being a prisoner of the Aurora Syndicate? Where is this headed? Am I going to be sold off or something? “Oh, thank you, I’ll go put this on I'll be right out.” I walk back into the bathroom and close the door and I change into the dress, a beautiful ruffled dark purple chiffon dress with a tie up at the waist. When I step out, San’s lips curl up into a smile “It looks beautif- I mean, it looks great on you.” I nod and I bite my bottom lip to keep me from smiling.

The first time in a year that I get male attention and it’s from one of the most dangerous men in Ulwood. Embarrassingly I’m falling into his trap and it hasn’t even been a whole day, just 16 hours ago I was kidnapped. I have to get it together, this man is just playing tricks on me he doesn’t care about me at all whatsoever. Suddenly San’s radio goes off Slightly startling me while a male's voice says says “San, they know about the Detective and they said if we don’t hand her over right now you’ll have a warrant for your arrest.” Amused, San lets out a chuckle “Tell them the first note for her rescue will be on 398 Barry Ave.” The man then responds “Okay got it.” San walks over to me and pulls out the handcuffs from his pocket and puts them on me “I have to go, but I’ll come back later. In the meanwhile I need you to rest okay? ” I nod then he exits out the room and closes the door behind him then a few seconds later I hear the small click of the door being locked. I let out a sigh and walk over by the door and turn off the lights leaving some sort of night light on and I lay down with my back facing the door. I feel quite tired and the pain medicine Jongho gave me is starting to wear off so I begin to have a million thoughts racing through my head trying to get my mind off of the pain that eventually I fall asleep.

I suddenly wake up to the sound of the door unlocking and opening I felt too tired to turn and check who it was until eventually I feel a gentle nudge on my shoulder "Hey Detective, it's me Jongho I brought you some more pain medicine." He helps me sit up and gives me the painkillers and some water soon after he says “Did that warm shower help you feel a bit better?” I nod “Yes, it actually did but I started to be in pain again right before I fell asleep since the medicine was wearing off” He stipples his fingers and says “Don’t worry, just give it an hour and the medicine will kick back in again. Tomorrow when you wake up is when it will hurt a lot so I’ll come back in the morning to check up on you.” I nod and for a few seconds I pick at my nails then I look at Jongho and I say “San told me about Captain Lee, I told him he would get his revenge the right way with all those documents and pictures stacked up as evidence but he doesn’t want to.” He slightly frowns “Well, Detective you have to remember San and basically everyone here including myself are criminals. What San wants is to humiliate Lee and inflict as much pain as that man did to his father, I’m sure you’d do the same for your family if you ever get the chance right?”

I lower my face and purse my lips. “I mean If I had the amount of evidence San has against Captain Lee I’d go to the police.” His eyes widen for a split second in shock then he recollects himself and goes back to his serious expression “Well, police can only do so much, sometimes the best way to get back at someone who's hurt your family is not necessarily the legal way. I’m sure in the back of your mind you know this even if you don’t want to admit it which is understandable since you’re a detective and you work for the police leading me to believe you fully trust them. You have to remember that some of these cops aren’t clean and half the time they’re just as bad as criminals like us, if not worse.” I gently brush my hand on the soft chiffon ruffles of my dress “Actually despite what you probably think I see Captain Lee differently now, seeing all those pictures and evidence and being the empathetic person that I am I genuinely feel sorry for San. That doesn’t mean that I think what he’s doing is okay because it’s not but I do get where he’s coming from and I understand what you’re trying to get at.”

Before he can answer Jongho’s radio goes off with Wooyoung saying “Hey Jongho where are you?” Jongho grabs his radio and says “I was with the detective giving her medicine, what happened?” Wooyoung answers back with a slight annoyance in his voice “I need you to bring the Detective downstairs, Lee wants to talk to her he’s on the phone with San.” He presses the button to his radio again and with a calm voice Jongho says “Okay I’ll be right there.” He puts his radio back in his jacket’s pocket then he turns to me and says “Let’s go Detective.” He helps me up then he walks me downstairs.

When I enter the dimly lit room filled with lots of monitors, computers, and servers I notice that all of San’s inner circle was present, 2 of which I haven't seen. One had dark brown hair he looks as if he’s around the same height as Mingi except a little bit taller. The other wasn't as tall as the hair dark brown haired male in fact he seemed to be around the same height as Wooyoung and Hongjoong. His was a cool brown shade. He was very handsome looking having the face of a Roman statue with no visible flaw on his face besides the pink birthmark next to his right eye, definitely not taking away from how handsome he looked. Now that I notice I realize how all of San's inner circle is basically handsome young men. This is exactly why they probably get away with as much as they do because they're intimidatingly handsome, they probably don't even need money to keep people quiet. Their looks alone will probably the charm any one of their liking. Jongho walks me over to a single chair by where everyone was huddled. San looks at me briefly then says “She’s here, you have 1 minute with her.” San then hands me the phone and I say “Captain Lee?! Please get me out of here I’m begging you. I’m terrified. I want to go home!” In a worried tone he answers “Detective Y/LN, are you okay? Have they hurt you in any way?” A knot forms in my throat and I say in verge of tears “Um, yeah I’m okay except for a few bruises and a busted lip” As angry as I am with Captain Lee for betraying the police department I need to urge him to get me out of here. I hear silence from the other end of the call then Captain Lee clears his throat “Look Detective, I’m going to try my absolute best to get you out of there, Detective Bang is also working on this to get you out of there as soon as possible too. Don’t listen to anything these dirt bags tell you either, they’re low life criminals who don’t care about anyone but themselves.” I release the knot in my throat and I begin to sob “Please, Captain just get me out of here please, just give them whatever they want! I need to see my mom and my family, I have a life too! Please!”

San puts his finger over his lips to hush me and takes the phone “So now that I proved to you that she’s alive and not in some trash can in an alleyway are you are more keen on cooperating?” Seonghwa walks over to me and helps me calm down while San is still on the phone and chuckles, turning around giving the 7 guys behind him a thumbs up. Captain Lee probably agreed. “I have eyes in every corner of the city Lee, if you don’t follow the requests I leave for you and decide to go your own route there will be consequences.” he hangs up with a huge smirk on his face. “I have him right where I want him, now we just wait until his fellow investigators find out his dirty little secrets.”

San hands the Phone over to Hongjoong and walks over to me giving me a curt smile “Thanks to you Detective, he’s probably scrambling to find a way to rescue the PD’s female prodigy.” He helps me up and says “Yeosang, do me a favor and take her back to the guest room.” He nods and he quietly walks me back upstairs to the guest room while we walk up the stairs I slip on the fabric of my dress and he grabs my arm “Careful.” I quietly thank him and continue to walk in silence then I suddenly grow the courage to at least try and make small talk, maybe he's nice like Jongho and Seonghwa “You’re really quiet, this is the first time I’ve heard you speak.” He continues to look forward in silence then he answers “There’s no reason for me to speak to a cop.” Nope, I was right this guy is ice cold. There’s no use in trying to talk to these people, they straight up hate my guts. “Okay, I’m sorry”

After a long and awkward walk back to the guest room we arrive, he opens it and shoves me in the room with such a strong force that I fall on the hard marble floor on my knees and I wince in pain from the stinging sensation on my knees. I pull up my dress so that I could see my dress, then I look down at my knees and notice both my knees are scraped. I get up and lay down on the bed letting out a long exhausted sigh. “So much for trying to be nice.” I slowly close my eyes. Sleep, eat, wake up. I wonder how many of these I have left before I end up dead in a ditch.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

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Taglist: @cromerteez @thanxx1117 @kisaane-not @atinyreads @hxneebxbee @itsvxlentine @ahhhhhhhhhghh @atinytinaa

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[chishiyashoodie]

can you write some hc of chishiya and reader’s first date ? 🥺

Sure! Haven’t written anything like this in weeks so bear with me. Also, I’m not taking requests, but thought this was a cute concept! so thank you for requesting it <3

Headcanons of Chishiya’s and readers first date

+ pairing: ooc!Chishiya x reader +

+ warnings: none!

+ word count: 3400ish +

+ author’s note: I got a bit carried away and I wrote two first dates hehe. I think it’s kinda sweet but idk if I’m happy with it. Very quick proofread so sorry for any mistakes <3 This can take place before or after the borderland +

-So you guys meet after work one day to go through some work related stuff

-You go to a Japanese barbecue restaurant

-After you are done eating, he asks if you’d like to meet tomorrow again just to hang out

-“So a date?” you ask him

-“No, not a date”

-“Hmm” you say giving him a suspicious look “Pick me up at 12pm”

-Date-no date day is here and you are super nervous but you don’t get why because first: it’s definitely not a date and second you’ve known him for a long time

-He decides to take you to an exhibition at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum

-You wonder how he knows you like that kind of stuff

-After you guys are done with the exhibition, he takes you to a small food stand inside the museum

-“Are you hungry?” He asks

-“No, I’m good” you say with a smile

-You sit down to wait for him to get his food and he brings you a matcha lather, which you love, and you ask him how does he know you like it

-“I’ve noticed you have this every morning at work when you start your shift”

-So he’s been observing you, which you find kinda sweet, because everything is in the little details

-After the museum date hang out, you walk to a nearby park and lay down under a tree

-You feel so comfortable and peaceful that time goes by so quickly

-“I like this” you say “but I’d rather it was nighttime so we could be looking at the stars. Don’t get me wrong, I love blue skies but stars make me curious because they are there, so close yet so far”

-He’s just looking at you with heart eyes and a soft smile

-“Maybe we could do this again tomorrow?” he suggests. “But when it’s dark so you can see them?”

-“Sure”

-Looking at the stars with him is definitely not something you’d think ever happen.

-The next day you guys meet up at the park.

-This time he brings a blanket for you guys to lay on.

-Before you realise it your head is on his chest

-You start talking about constellations and even though he has no idea what you are talking about, he’s following every word you say.

-When it’s time to go, he walks you home and you invite him in.

-You prepare some tea for the both of you and start talking about life

-“It’s so weird, I can talk to you about anything and I know you’ll just listen” you say

-“Likewise” he says before asking you. “So do you have a boyfriend?”

-“Hmm no?”

-He hums

-“I do not have a bf, sorry your question caught me by surprise” you say staring at his face without realising

-“I don’t have a girlfriend”

-“I’d be worried if you did and you were here with me, tbh”

-He raises his eyebrows at you, after all, this isn’t a date either so why would it matter, right?

-“So how come you are single? You are pretty cute” you admit, before slightly chocking on your tea at the realisation of what you just said

-“I’m cute?”

-He’s staring at you so much at this point he could literally get you to tell him your biggest secrets

-“Super cute if I may admit”

-For the next few minutes it’s just silence and awkwardness. You just told Chishiya he’s cute and by the looks of it, it seems like he thinks you are cute too

-“It’s time for me to go. I have an early shift tomorrow” he finally says

-By now you are inches away from each other like a magnet pulled you

-“Do you really have to go? I mean, I have a spare room, you can sleep here”

-He raises his eyebrows at your forwardness, not that you mean it for him to stay and sleep with you

-You can feel each other’s breaths and your lips are touching

-“Sure, I’ll stay”

[melodygatesauthor]

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia with prompt 5: “I cannot find the words to describe how I feel about you.” This can take place as the afterglow of having sex, but Santiago is realizing, it’s not an afterglow…He really does have something for them. But it’s entirely up to you! Happy Birthday 🎈

When I'm With You

soft!Santiago "Pope" Garcia X f!Reader

Nonnie that's so cute! I loved this idea. I haven't written much soft!Santi so this was fun to work on! Thank you for the prompt and birthday wishes!

Tags/Warnings: SFW, no smut, fluff, cute, like just some cute Sunday morning vibes

Word Count: 327

You and Santiago were curled up in his bed. You inhaled his scent deeply while the sun peeked through the sheer curtains of the bedroom. His pec muscles shifted under your cheek as he tilted his head to the side kissing your forehead. He rubbed his hand over your arm softly.

“I could wake up like this every single day.” You said, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Oh yeah?” He asked.

You looked up at him, “yeah.”

When Santiago looked down at you, with your big eyes and contagious smile, he felt a swelling in his chest he hadn’t felt before. You were beautiful, in every sense of the word. Not only physically, but there wasn’t one other person that he would want to share his deepest feelings with, or wake up to after an evening of nightmares. It was only you.

He kissed your forehead again, “what would you think about…moving in here?

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he really suggesting…

“I mean, if you aren’t ready to I totally get-”

You interrupted him with a kiss.

“Santi, I’d love to.” You said, letting a huge smile spread across your face. “I’d love to.”

You and Santiago had been dating on and off for months. A lot of times your schedules didn’t line up, and sometimes you’d go days without talking. He was always busy with work and so were you, and so it was hard to find the time to make your relationship really flourish. Him asking you to move in with him was unexpected to say the least, but you were excited about the prospect.

He furrowed his dark brow, “you seem really surprised.”

“I just didn’t think you were that serious about me, I didn’t realize you really felt that way I guess.” You felt your eyes clouding over a little. You wiped them.

Santi chuckled, “oh, sweetheart. I cannot find the words to describe how I feel about you.”

Melody's Birthday Celebration

Masterlist

[onsunnyside]

Give us some mean ATA Ari content pwease🥺

oki bestie, here’s a long snippet/spoiler for A Tough Act !!

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | dark!alpha!fraternity president!Ari Levinson x omega!activist!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dark, a/b/o dynamics, assault, power imbalance, violence, misogyny (within a/b/o designations), mean!ari, size difference, possessive behaviour, possible dehumanization, non-con/dub-con. smut - minors dni: all the following warnings are observed by the reader: so underlinings of exhibitionism, forced voyeurism. humiliation: public punishment, spanking. implied: fingering, unprotected sex.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a snippet of A Tough Act: starlet finds herself at an Arcadia Phi frat party.

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.56K

𝗔/𝗡 | the masterlist isn’t posted yet, but this is from my new series set in HCV (Howard college verse). This snippet includes cameos from our other readers: cherry and casanova !!

“You see that? Look at them.” He holds your face up, forcing you to watch the exchange. 

The buzzcut-haired alpha nearly blocks the small omega with his frame, his big hands sliding all over her dress, and fixing the buttons of her cardigan. Then, they cup her cheeks, bringing her in for a soft kiss that quickly turns possessive. Her weak grip lands on his shoulders, feebly trying to push him away but he only leans closer. He presses her flush against the wall, nearly crushing her until you can’t see her anymore. 

You can’t look anymore and avert your gaze, finding more interest in the couch cramped with giggly sorority girls. They flatter and wave at passing alphas like they’re celebrities.

All of them are clad in short dresses and high heels, practically copies of each other—except the one in the middle. She’s an omega and seems the most confident, her legs crossed as he steadily sips from a solo cup. 

Some guys walk up to the girls, and sweep them away but the middle omega is different. When approached, she doesn’t offer the first alpha a glance, but the second one, a light-haired guy, seems to win whatever game they were playing. She lets him take her hand and draw her close, their bodies instantly grinding to the music as her friends fawn. 

“That’s how good omegas are treated. They’re protected, and pampered. Adored like the prettiest flower in the garden,” he rasps, “as long as they honour their superiors.” 

“Honour as in let themselves be used and degraded to mere machines?” Your eyes narrow, lip twitching with rage, “to be seen as nothing but a hole for your fucking knots? You must be really sick if you raped and willingly dehumanized people for cash. Your whole childhood—your existence is based on the suffering of omegas.”

Ari growls, “you think I’m careless enough to knock up some breeding bitch? If you're jealous, just say so.” 

“Is that all you heard? Does your ego take up too much room in your head? Or is it the god-complex that makes you so stupid?” You jeer, “I’d rather drown than even look at you a second longer.” 

You don’t get far before Ari is tugging you back, caging you against the wall with his body. “I suggest you behave, unless you want that to be you.” He spins you around to the rest of the room. 

The once confident omega is now trapped on a bearded man’s lap—a different alpha from before. Her skirt is hiked up, making room for the alpha’s big hand as he lands spanks on her thigh, dangerously close to her ass. Each slap echoes through the packed room, sounding over the booming music from the basement. 

“You see that, starlet? Do you want all eyes on you, just like her?” Ari murmurs, stepping closer as his fingers trail up your arm, “again, if you’re jealous, just say so. We could put on our own show, but we’ll be way better.” 

An awful taste fills your mouth as you shrug off his hand, “No, and don’t touch me.” 

Ari raises his eyebrows, taking a long sip of his beer. “Really? I would’ve thought an attention whore like yourself would kill to be the star…”

Another loud slap bounces off the walls, followed by a high-pitched squeal. 

You feel embarrassed for her, the pure humiliation of being punished for everyone to see—right out in the open without shame. 

But, that sharp distress is a waste. It turns out, you’re the only one who feels it, the only person not blinded by the hierarchy and the cruel shimmer of alphas. 

“Ah, there we go. Look at little casanova.” Ari’s voice drops low, and suddenly he’s close enough for his beard to brush your cheek. “You know, she used to be quite the handful. Always with that attitude, flaunting herself, fucking anything that moves.” He snickers, “as if she was regaining ownership of herself and her body.” 

“I bet she was.” You try to shove him away, but it’s only a few inches. “You think your status guarantees you the world, but worthless assholes like you don’t deserve headstrong people like her—” like us, omegas. 

“No?” His blue eyes glimmer with amusement. “Well, how about you take a look at that headstrong omega right now?” He turns your face in her direction again. 

Your breath hitches as your heart beats loudly in your ears, bouncing off your skull while you helplessly watch the poor omega—you wish to knock some sense into her. Tell her this isn’t her purpose, she isn’t a plaything to be shown off, she’s worth so much more. 

“Look at her, casanova would be nothing without Andy.” 

The spanks have turned heated. The big alpha swats her thigh then rubs it roughly, and you know it’s to make it hurt more rather than to soothe it. And she doesn’t protest or flail away, no, she stays in his lap, almost happily. She kisses his gland while running her fingers through his hair. Her moans are loud enough for you and everyone else to hear when she unabashedly grinds against his hand up her skirt. 

“You always preach about control, but omegas aren't made for that. They can’t handle all that pressure,” his warm breath fans across your face and this close, you can see every beauty mark and freckle on his face. “They need someone to do all the planning, heavy lifting and thinking for them while they stick to simpler tasks. They need to be used, owned—they were made to be owned.” 

You raise your hand and swing back, but in the blink of an eye, you’re pinned against the wall. The shock makes your drink drop to the floor, splattering all over your shoes and Ari’s boots. 

With eyes full of burning hatred, and teeth clenched so tightly you can practically hear them grinding—you don’t usually resort to violence, but he always gets under your skin. 

Your fist collides with his side before he restrains that one above your head too. His bottle joins your plastic cup on the floor, the glass doesn’t break but the beer spills on the floorboards and joins the puddle beneath the two of you. 

Ari didn't even flinch, let alone, wince. Leaning closer with daring eyes, “Do that again, and I’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone. Make them watch as I tear your tight cunt apart, show them how a real alpha punishes a disobedient omega.” 

You do the only thing you can think of and spit in his face. He stiffens and you try to headbutt him but he swiftly dodges. You would’ve expected him to have fast reflexes with his boxing skills—but he isn’t quick enough to avoid another hunk of your saliva. 

This time, it lands on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes turn shades darker. He makes a disgusting show of it, easily constraining your wrists above your head despite your wriggling, and swiping your saliva from his face. 

He brings it to his lips, sucking it off and groaning lowly. His eyes never leave yours, searing into your soul and fueling your hostility. You suck in your cheeks again, ready to spit a third time and hopefully burn a hole in his ego, but he slaps that same hand over your mouth. 

“God, I love that fight in you. Makes me so fucking hard.” He forces your head into the wall as your breaths deepen, nostrils flaring with each exhale. “Oh, looks like Curtis finally got the show on the road.”

Once again, he makes you look at the buzzcut-haired alpha and his omega. He’s got her tucked in a dark corner, you can barely make out her legs around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck, securing herself with each rock of his hips. 

A deep dread fills your chest as people go about their lives, drinking and dancing, enjoying themselves while a poor girl is getting taken advantage of. 

Or so you think because it physically pains you to hear her moans of enjoyment. 

He slowly removes his palm from your mouth, loving the helplessness in your eyes. “Look at Curtis and sweet, innocent cherry—she’s getting fucked at a party like it’s her job. Hm, I wonder what her religious and overbearing parents would think of that… Say, should I record it and send it to them?”

“Leave her alone.” You hiss, bringing up your knee but Ari quickly hikes your thighs around his waist, just like Curtis. In this position, you’re completely vulnerable and at his mercy. Fear rushes through your veins, making you only more motivated to get free. 

But, Ari is having none of it. His hand wraps around your throat, keeping you against the wall for everyone to see. 

Shame blooms like a spring garden—but the flowers are roses with the sharpest thorns, and they tear you apart from the inside. 

“You want me to leave her alone? To leave every other omega alone?” He mocks, “Now, why would I do that? It’d be neglecting my duties as an alpha, just letting them be—letting them have power over themselves.” He inches closer, his hips snug between yours and you can feel his sickening excitement through your jeans. “Omegas need guidance and they need to be used… and alphas are the only ones who can fill that void. Omegas are made to be owned.” He repeats again to drill it into your head. 

Ari can see it in your eyes, the blazing fury, the pure loathing that resigns within you. 

It was made for him, and he will never get enough of it. 

He squeezes a little tighter, enjoying the stutter in your breath. He wonders if it’s getting harder to breathe yet, or if you’re just being difficult, as always. 

“And you, starlet, regardless of how much you protest and fight, you’re one of them.” 

I can't wait for this pairing !!

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 27)

WARNINGS: Use of Moon Tea (aka abortion/pregnancy prevention)

A/N: I’m really sorry to everyone who picked yes in the poll, because I know it’s annoying of me to even ask for opinions if I’m not going to listen, but I felt that children weren’t right for Lady Tyrell and Tywin.

This is mostly because I didn’t want to feel like I was betraying my characters, and yes I know it’s not real, but to make Lady Tyrell become a mother when she’s been so adamantly against it for so long would’ve felt wrong to me. She’s always been afraid of being cast aside either for marriage or for having children, and while her marriage thankfully did not do that, realistically being a mother requires a great deal of your time and effort. Being a parent usually comes before all else, especially for women in Westeros, and I don’t want to take that freedom from her.

There is also Tywin, who in many fics I read is more than happy to have children with the reader. And while this isn’t a false interpretation—he certainly wants to continue his legacy and having more children would improve that—it’s also an interpretation that usually comes with arranged marriage fics. Now, like I said, I don’t mind that and it makes perfect sense to me, but given that Tywin has repeatedly shown great deals of emotion whenever Lady Tyrell puts herself in danger suggests to me that he wouldn’t be entirely excited about her having his children. Not because he doesn’t want them, but because he’s afraid of any complications during birth, especially because of Joanna.

So, this is my apology for deciding to ignore the overwhelming amount of support Tywin and Lady Tyrell got for having children, my bad guys. On the bright side, though, I have noted I will continue to write Tywin Lannister oneshots once this story is finished. While some of them will be a sort of continuation of A Lion in the Garden, some will just be regular oneshots, and I will write y’all the fluffiest, most wholesome Tywin dad fic you’ve ever read I PROMISE.

So, overall, just know I didn’t decide to not listen just for fun, I genuinely have reasons that I didn’t feel I could ignore, and also know that I am sorry. With that aside though, I hope y’all still really enjoy the story because I’ve got some big stuff coming up for these last few chapters🤭

—————

It was rather early in the morning, but just as always, Qyburn was awake. Not to mention, he was already in his laboratory researching and conducting experiments.

In fact, he was preparing to start brewing something when there was a knock at his door. It surprised him given that the sun was just barely peeking over the sea. 

Qyburn rose from his chair, making his way to the door and pulling it open. He found Tywin Lannister standing there, much to his surprise.

“My lord, how can I help you?” He asked, wondering why the Hand had seeked him out so early, especially the morning after his wedding. Additionally, Qyburn was also curious as to why he had not gone to Pycelle. He was the Grand Maester, after all. 

“There’s something I’d like to inquire about. May I come in?” Tywin asked, peering over the shorter man’s shoulder and observing the dark, messy room.

“Of course, my lord. I can clear a chair if you’d like to sit,” Qyburn offered, stepping aside so Tywin could enter and then shutting the door behind him. He couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering if perhaps his experiments had once again gone too far and the man wished for him to leave. 

“There’s no need, I’d like to keep this quite brief.”

“Very well, I-“

“My daughter trusts you quite a lot, doesn’t she?” Tywin questioned suddenly, interrupting the ex-maester and turning to look at him. 

“I hope she does, my lord.”

Tywin nodded, hands folded behind his back as he gazed down at the dusty wooden floors. The air was thick and damp, and he wondered how Qyburn ever managed to get anything done without coughing and struggling to breathe. 

“It’s rare that my daughter trusts people, especially outside of our family. However, there are certain qualities that win her over quite easily. Those of loyalty, and of secrecy. I wonder if perhaps I could make use of those traits and ask something of you,” Tywin said stiffly, watching Qyburn light another candle as he did. The small man gazed over, suddenly intrigued. 

“Certainly, my lord. If it is within my capabilities, I shall do it.”

“And I can trust you to keep it to yourself? To tell nobody, including my daughter?” 

“Yes, my lord.”

Tywin observed him thoughtfully, almost as if he was waiting for a but, or a request. Surely this man’s silence would come with a price.

“I will reward you handsomely for it.”

“There is no need, your lord.”

Now this made him raise an eyebrow. The favor and his silence for no price at all? Tywin had met plenty of men in his life, but none had ever been entirely selfless.

“If you do not wish for money, then what is it that you desire? Power? Land?” Tywin interrogated, taking a slow step towards the smaller man. Qyburn only smiled.

“None of those, my lord. I merely wish to experiment and research in peace. It is my one passion and calling, and with both the hospitality of you and her grace, I am allowed to do so. That alone is enough to secure my silence and my services whenever you should require,” he explained, giving a gentle, subtle smile to the Lord Hand. Tywin thought for a moment, and then nodded.

“I see. The task I have for you is nothing quite so… strenuous as what you did for my daughter. I simply require moon tea, though it must be made with the utmost precision. I need it to be entirely effective,” he explained, watching carefully for any hint of change on Qyburn’s face. There was no shock, nor any joy. The request was merely a job to him, not a rumor to be spread. 

“I can have that ready within the hour, if you wish,” he offered, raising an eyebrow and running through a mental list of the ingredients he would need from his cupboard. 

“Thank you, that would be convenient,” Tywin accepted, beginning to walk towards the door. Qyburn moved as well, reaching for the handle but not opening it.

“Will that be all, my lord?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Of course,” Qyburn nodded, pausing and pressing his lips together for a moment, “May I ask you something, my lord?”

Tywin paused, raising both eyebrows as a sign for him to do it. 

“Why have you come to me? The Grand Maester is much closer to the tower of the hand, and he would be able to brew such a thing just as well.”

Tywin inhaled, looking Qyburn directly in his eyes and sucking in one of his cheeks as he contemplated.

“As I said, my daughter trusts you.”

—————

The sun was shining through the windows when I woke, and though Tywin was not beside me, I was glad to find he was still in the room, writing letters at the table instead of sitting in his office.

“Good morning,” I greeted, smiling and rolling onto my side to face him a bit better. He looked up, smiling back at me and setting his quill down. 

“Good morning, wife.”

Tywin stood from his seat, making his way over to me and leaning down to press his lips to mine. I reciprocated happily, my hand against his cheek. I always enjoyed the gentle prickle of his beard, and I continued to cup his face even after he had pulled away. 

“How early did you wake up?” I asked, yawning and leaning into his touch as he tucked some hair behind my ear. 

“Just over an hour ago. Would you like to bathe?” Tywin asked, making me raise my eyebrows and nod instantly. I wanted to bathe very badly, and I smiled upon catching a glimpse of the steaming tub in the corner of the room. 

I got up rather eagerly, making my way over to it and cautiously stepping it. It was the perfect temperature, and I let out a content sigh as I lowered down and sat in it. 

Tywin shrugged off his coat, and I began to laugh when he rolled up his sleeves and kneeled beside the tub. He motioned for me to lean back, and I did so, allowing him to help me wet my hair.

“Let’s see if you manage to do this better than Cerella,” I teased, feeling the hot water against my scalp and relaxing. Tywin gave a slight scoff, entirely wetting my hair now and letting his hands go through it to massage my scalp. 

“I highly doubt that. I’ll attempt to be comparable,” he replied, reaching for the soap and coating his hands in it before coming back to my hair. In the meantime, I had begun to wash my body, and suddenly the shock of what had accidentally happened the night before returned to me. 

“Tywin, last night-“

“I know, (Y/N). When we’re done with this, we can discuss the subject. For now, just relax, hm?” He urged me, giving a look of utmost sincerity. I nodded then, swallowing and allowing him to continue with my hair. 

Somehow, his hands did manage to make me relax, and I was leaning into his touch completely as he continued to massage my head. I found that I had nearly fallen asleep until I was jolted from my trance by a knock at the door. 

“Cerella?” I questioned, looking back at Tywin. He nodded, and I called out for her to enter. There was a creek of the door, and then a few moments later she came into view. 

“My lord! I can handle that,” she exclaimed upon seeing Tywin knelt beside the tub, hands in my hair. She had brought fresh sheets with her, and instantly placed them down at the end of the bed before coming over.

Tywin waved her off, shaking his head as he continued to wash my hair. 

“I’d like to bathe my wife myself today. Change out the sheets in the meantime,” Tywin said, though Cerella gave me a cautious glance as if asking whether or not I actually wanted Tywin to do my hair. I gave her a nod, letting her know that I was enjoying this.

“Of course, my lord.”

I watched her move across the room and begin to pull the sheets from the bed, though she looked over her shoulder to smile and raise an eyebrow at me. I began to laugh, knowing she was making insinuations that we’d obviously had quite the night. 

Tywin of course understood why I was laughing, and out of the corner of my eyes I saw him roll his own and then smile in guilty amusement. 

“Lean your head back, (Y/N),” Tywin whispered after a moment, to which I complied and closed my eyes. I felt the warm water against my scalp once again, and it stayed this way for a few minutes until all the soap was entirely out. When that was done, Tywin rose from beside me and grabbed a towel, bringing it back over and waiting for me to rise.

Carefully, I stood up in the tub and held Tywin’s arm as I stepped out. He wrapped me in the towel then, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead as he did. 

“I’ll dry and braid your hair right now, m’lady,” Cerella said, tucking the last corner of the sheets into the bed and then fixing the pillows. Tywin was helping me into my undergarments currently, and proceeded to pick out a rather lovely red gown. 

“Already dressing me in Lannister colors?” I teased as he helped me into it. 

“I’ve been wanting to for months. Plus, we leave for Casterly Rock today. My siblings will be pleased to see it.”

I could feel his hands at the back, messing with the strings and pulling them so the dress fit snugly, though comfortably, against me. Tywin was correct, Kevan and Genna probably would appreciate the gesture, and I hoped it would make a good impression, for I’d only chatted with the two of them briefly. 

“Are we leaving in the afternoon?” I questioned, turning to face Tywin now that he was finished with my dress. He nodded, and then motioned to Cerella, who was standing by the dresser waiting for me.

For the next half hour, Tywin and I continued to leisurely chat while my hair was done and while he answered more letters. The odd thing was, my husband seemed unusually tense, and even then it was not necessarily an angry sort of tense, it was almost… well, awkward.

“You’re all done, my lady,” Cerella said, placing her hands on my shoulders as I admired my hair in the mirror, turning my head to both sides to see all the angles. 

“Thank you, Cerella, it looks lovely.”

“Of course. I’ll leave the two of you be now.”

Cerella left the room briskly, and once the door was shut I turned my chair toward Tywin and sighed.

“You’re in a mood, Tywin. What's wrong? Is it… well, about last night?” I questioned, hands in my lap. I couldn’t help but fidget with the fabric of my sleeves. 

He placed his quill down, taking a deep breath before meeting my eyes. He rose from his chair then, going to sit on the sofa and beckoning me to join him. I did so, despite the nervous wobbling in my legs as I walked toward him. 

Once I had sat beside him, he took my hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m not- I’m not upset, (Y/N). I’m conflicted,” Tywin said softly, keeping his eyes focused on mine so I would know he was being entirely genuine. 

“About?”

He opened his mouth and then paused before closing it again. There was silence in the room, and everything seemed so still. 

“(Y/N), the topic of children was raised by your grandmother yesterday, and I’d like to apologize for not asking you sooner. During the course of our relationship, you have always noted—either outright or inadvertently—that you don’t wish to be a mother. I made the mistake of assuming that your sentiments have not changed, rather than asking you. We haven’t had a conversation about children, and given what’s happened I think we ought to,” Tywin said, motioning with his head just as he always did when he was coming to a point. I nodded in agreement, swallowing.

“I just- I don’t know. I’ve never seen myself as a mother, Tywin. I’ve never craved it the way that some women do. Cersei, for example, adores her children more than anything else on earth, and I’m told that usually mothers are supposed to feel that way. That the second your child comes into the world, you instantly love and cherish it, and suddenly nothing else matters. And maybe that’s right, maybe I would enjoy being a mother and I just don’t know it yet, but I- I can’t see myself that way,” I explained, looking down at my lap because it was difficult to admit. And in truth, I feared I was disappointing Tywin. He had always valued his legacy over nearly everything, and what gave me the right to prevent that?

“And I’m- I’m sorry, Tywin. I’m sure you were hoping I could be persuaded, or that perhaps because my sentiments of marriage have changed that my views on children would have too, but I can’t. I know it would be dramatic to claim that I would lose all sense of self as a mother, but often I feel that way. Even besides being viewed as weak or in no condition to be leading armies, I- I’ve always feared becoming another person. After my mother gave birth to Margaery, she- she was changed. She behaved in ways that she had not after birthing Loras. She became quite melancholy, and often woke in the middle of the night and accidentally harmed herself. It seemed- it seemed she was not entirely, well, my mother, and the maesters had not a clue what was wrong. It’s the reason Margaery is so close to both my grandmother and I, for we had to take over in some ways. And, over the years, I have heard of many women who become quite- well, who change after having children, and it does frighten me. I don’t- I don’t want to ruin the happiness I have with you right now,” I rambled, not letting Tywin speak because I needed to fully express myself before he said anything. He held my eyes the entire time, genuine understanding on his face.

“(Y/N), I never expected children from you,” he said after a moment, catching me completely off guard. I had begun to gape, and both eyebrows were raised in shock.

“If I had, we would’ve discussed it already. In fact, I- I don’t…” Tywin paused, and his voice had an odd tremble to it, almost as if he was going to cry. 

“I don’t want children from you, (Y/N). As much as I- as I believe that you would do a wonderful job, and as much as I care for my legacy, your safety has and will always be more important to me. Childbirth includes far too many risks and… and after what happened with Joanna… to put it lightly, I don’t believe I would take another loss very well. I need you more than I need another son or daughter, (Y/N),” he said slowly, trying to maintain a calm and even tone especially as he spoke of Joanna. It was not easy, I knew. I processed what he’d said, and understood that we had come to a mutual agreement against children. A part of me felt relieved, and the part that didn’t felt guilty for being relieved, especially because Tywin’s reasoning was so saddening. 

“If that’s the case, Tywin, then what… what are we going to do about what happened last night?” I asked softly, still feeling weighed down by that issue. An odd look passed across Tywin’s face, and then it was gone. 

He rose from the couch, glancing at me before leaving the room. I sat silently, wondering what he was doing, for I knew he wouldn’t have dared to simply walk out. My best guess was that he was leaving to get something. 

I sat for another minute or so before finally hearing the door open and watching Tywin enter the room with a cup in his hands. As he sat beside me once more, the scent of the liquid inside hit my nostrils, and a nervous suspicion rose inside me.

“Tywin?” I questioned warily, seeing the guilt on his face as he removed the lid. Yes, it was moon tea. Not exactly a minute long brew, and Tywin knew that just as well as I did. 

“I asked Qyburn to make it for me early this morning,” he informed, knowing I was surely wondering how he had acquired it. For a moment my fear dissipated, at least knowing that Pycelle had not been asked for it. Then it returned as I processed that someone still knew.

“What?”

“Cersei trusts him, (Y/N). Do you think Cersei trusts just anyone? No. He will not tell of this, I assure you,” Tywin tried to calm me, but I had already risen from my seat, shaking my head with disbelief. 

“Why would you go to Qyburn without consulting me, Tywin? Why would you risk exposing us to scandal this way? I know that everyone around us understands our marriage was a love match, but something has to convince them that it is also political, including my father. He approved of your demand to name me head of the Tyrell army with the impression that someday we would have children, and it would be one thing to claim I was infertile and couldn’t bear any, but to risk exposure by requesting moon tea from Qyburn?” I lectured, clenching my skirts and speaking frantically. My thoughts were racing, and I felt mortified at the prospect of people finding out that Tywin and I were purposefully avoiding children. It was simply something that a woman would not dare ask for in a marriage, and nobody would have the foresight to consider that perhaps Tywin did not want children either. 

“As I said, I trust him not to spread rumors. He has helped House Lannister a great deal, and I’m not so stupid as to speak with Pycelle. I also understand that while you are a woman of many talents, moon tea must be brewed precisely, and you are no maester,” Tywin explained, standing and approaching me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, holding my attention as he reassured me. I let out a sigh, seemingly pacified until something else appeared in the back of my mind. My eyes shot up, and I gave Tywin a questioning glare.

“What would you have done if I had wanted children, Tywin? Why would you have asked Qyburn for moon tea before we even spoke upon the subject?” I asked, suddenly connecting the dots. My husband looked down at me with a firm stare, as if contemplating which path might be smoother: honesty or lies. 

“I believe you already know why, my dear,” he replied evenly, his crystal blue eyes unwavering. There was no guilt on his face, which managed to anger me even more.

“You would have given it to me without my knowledge? Even if I had wanted children, even if my stance had changed entirely and they were the only thing on earth I wanted? Would you have slipped it in my wine anyways?” I snarled, fuming and feeling the angry heat spread throughout my body with each word I spoke. I was baffled and furious that he would dare to violate me in such a way.

“No. If children were the one thing that you truly desired more than anything, I would not have done it. If you felt passionately that you were meant to be a mother, I would not have done it. But if you had been merely willing or open to the idea of children, then yes, I would have. I don’t care if that upsets you, (Y/N), because I’ve told you time and time again that I will do whatever I can to protect you. I will exert every ounce of power I have over the gods to keep you safe, to keep you alive. I need you to understand that your anger does not bother me in the slightest, because I would rather see you furious with me than listen to you scream and watch you bleed out while attempting to birth a child. I can’t- I cannot do that again,” he said, his hand coming to the back of my head and forcing me to look up at him as he spoke. There was something so honest and desperate in his voice that it nearly frightened me. I began to realize that much like most of our arguments, it was once again boiling down to the same thing. 

He could not lose me. 

Or rather, he could not lose another wife. 

Though I felt I ought to have remained angry, I knew it was not often that Tywin became this way with me. He only felt the need to go against me when it came to my safety, and though I would be angered and annoyed each time, it would not last. There was nothing made more clear to me in these last several months than that the impact of Joanna’s death was never going to fade away. Every belief Tywin had within our relationship and now our marriage, every principle. It was because of Joanna. 

“Do you think we’ll ever stop having the same argument, Tywin?” I muttered softly, feeling my tense muscles relax just as his did. His hand moved from my head to my cheek, and he took a deep breath before shaking his head.

“No. No, we will always have this argument. It doesn’t matter if we see each other’s perspectives clearly, it doesn’t matter if we want to respect them. As much as I wish- as I wish I could ignore the fear I feel, I cannot. I need you to be safe, (Y/N), even if it leaves you upset. And I apologize for that,” he sighed, eyebrows slightly coming together with a sort of sad concern. 

“I know, Tywin. I know. I just- well, we need more trust. I need you to understand that I’m aware of why you do things like this. I don’t hold it against you, and it makes perfect sense. I just- I merely wish you would be more direct when you have these feelings. I wish you would just say ‘(Y/N), I need you to be safe,’ or something along those lines. I only require honesty,” I explained, placing my hands on his chest and giving him a pleading look. 

“The problem is, with most of the situations in which we have had this argument, it has happened after something has already taken place. Such as the tourney, or your run in with The Mountain,” he pointed out, to which I looked down somewhat shamefully.

“Yes, I know. But I am done with that now, I promise. I’m certain I’ve said that before but I mean it now. I’m- I’m your wife, Tywin, and I desire your trust more than you know. I’m going to earn it,” I said, bringing my own hand up to his cheek now. I could feel him leaning into my palm, and I brushed my thumb against his face. 

“And I will be more open about my- feelings of anxiety,” he mumbled, as if admitting to it was something horrible. I merely smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, Tywin.”

As I sat back down on the sofa and drank the moon tea, I reflected that despite the fact that Tywin and I had had many arguments, they had never lasted particularly long. I was not afraid to be honest, and in turn he was usually quite articulate. I also reflected that the most important thing was to genuinely resolve our conflicts. And knowing that we had just resolved this one made me smile, even if the tea was slightly bitter. 

—————

It had been nearly a week since our wedding, and after several days of travel, we had finally reached Casterly Rock. 

With the Kingdoms at peace and the peasants of Kings Landing well fed, Tywin and I saw no reason why we shouldn’t step away for awhile after our wedding, especially because he had been meaning to take me back for quite some time now. Plus, Tyrion would take his place until we returned.

We had traveled back with Genna and Kevan, who were both absolutely delightful and just as cunning as Tywin. Kevan was much more polite than Tywin, which in some ways made him even more dangerous because there was a potential to underestimate him. Genna on the other hand opted for humor, and frequently teased Tywin much to his endearing annoyance. She had also immediately taken to me, just as I had taken to her, and I found that each conversation we had made me adore her even more. 

It was quite fascinating to watch Tywin with his siblings, for he had such a different dynamic with them, and with Genna especially. He and Kevan had been working as a team for their entire lives, but with Genna it seemed that Tywin cared very deeply and was quite protective, even if he would never admit it.

I had already known of Tygett’s death and Gerion’s adventures from which he had not returned, but I had certainly not been aware of the fact that Tywin’s youngest brothers had not particularly been in his favor. Genna had informed me of it one day when Tywin and Kevan had opted to go out hunting. I had been invited, but knew it would be rude of me to leave Genna alone and chose to stay behind instead. 

During that conversation, I had received a hearty confession of gratitude, for apparently I had knocked some sense into her eldest brother and reminded him how to smile. It made me happy to hear Genna talk about him that way, because I could hear both the plain adoration and the criticism in her voice, both of which I felt Tywin deserved. 

Beyond that, the days of travel had been filled with pleasant chatter and stories, not to mention good food. However, I was glad to finally reach Casterly Rock, and to my surprise it was just as big as I had remembered it. 

“What do you think?”

I turned to Tywin, gaping at the enormous mountain before me. It was even taller than the wall, and I was baffled by the fact that most of the castle was inside of the giant rock, for the part exposed to the outside was already large enough. In a way, Casterly Rock was perfectly fitting for Tywin. Formidable on the outside even without consideration of everything hidden underneath. 

“It feels less frightening this time around. It feels as though I belong here this time,” I said, slowing my horse down to a walk just as he did. The wheelhouse was pleasant, but at some point I had wished to see the landscape more fully than its small windows afforded. 

“You do belong here now, you are the Lady of Casterly Rock. Though we’re cursed by my position as hand and will probably not see very much of it,” he remarked, which somehow made me sad. Tywin was certainly the most effective hand Westeros had seen in centuries, and as a result he had been forced from the one place he felt truly comfortable. 

It was odd to consider, because although Kings Landing had produced many fond memories over the last few years, it would never replace Highgarden. I imagined Tywin felt the same about Casterly Rock. 

“Well, I intend to make the most of the time we spend here either way. Plus, I’ve been enjoying your family quite a lot. They’re wonderful,” I said with a smile, turning over my shoulder to glance at the wheelhouse trailing behind us. Tywin scoffed.

“You’ve been enjoying Kevan and Genna. The rest of them are not so pleasant.”

“Whatever you say, Tywin. It’s not as if I’ll be forced to spend much time with them in a castle as big as this,” I replied, also knowing that this next week or so was going to be spent entirely around Tywin’s side, which meant the closest of the family members would be Genna and Kevan. 

“No, thankfully we won’t. It’ll just be at the feast tonight and then that’ll be all. Most of them are cousins once or twice removed, and only Lannisters in name and looks,” Tywin grumbled bitterly, jaw boldening just as it did whenever he was irritated. Part of me found it humorous just how much he cared, but I simultaneously knew it would be better not to point that out. 

“I’ll cry tears of joy upon returning to King's Landing and seeing hair that isn’t golden,” I huffed, laughing to myself and shaking my head at how ridiculous Tywin was being. Who was I to care about a family that was not my own? If anything, Tywin’s contempt for them probably meant they didn’t have a sword up the ass and could actually tell a decent joke, something that he only took from me and a younger sister. 

“Luckily for you, mine isn’t so golden anymore.”

I only grinned at him, joy consuming me. I had complete and utter confidence that this trip would be extremely enjoyable, not to mention, it would certainly be eventful.

—————

“And lastly, my chambers. Or rather ours now.”

Tywin had certainly taken me on quite the tour of The Rock, including his vast knowledge of history with nearly every room we entered, and after several hours we had finally gotten to the part I’d been most excited for. 

Two large double doors were pulled open by the guards, and I stepped into the room with an open mouth. Every piece of furniture was carefully adorned with gold and extreme, gorgeous detail, and of course there was no lack of deep crimson to accompany it. But what was truly awe inspiring was the absolutely massive window at the end of the room, enveloping the entire wall and looking out over the sea. It put the view from the Tower of the Hand to utter shame. 

“Oh Tywin… it’s gorgeous,” I whispered, unable to avert my gaze for at least a minute as I took it all in. There was a low, quiet chuckle from behind me, and I felt his arms wrap around my waist. 

“It’s certainly better than the tower of the hand,” he mumbled, burying his head in the crook of my neck. I found it odd that he was being so clingy, but I brushed it off and simply let him. 

“The bed looks quite comfortable,” I noted to him, observing the various blankets and pillows covering it. It was somehow even larger than his bed in King's Landing.

“It is. And we’ll be spending quite a lot of time in it tonight, rest assured,” he said, kissing the side of my throat as I inhaled.

“Ahuh, to get your mind off of your burdensome family, am I correct?” I teased, turning around and smiling up at the man. He nodded, cupping my cheek. He said nothing, and I found a sort of sadness in his eyes.

“Are you alright, Tywin?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows with concern. I wondered if he was thinking of his late wife.

“I’m fine, my dear.”

“Did you… did you share these chambers with her?” I allowed myself to question, surprised when he shook his head.

“No. This room was built just under three decades ago. I- I could not stand to stay in that room after what happened. There was a perpetual blood stain in the bed frame, and I refused to part with any of her belongings. Kevan knew I would go mad if nothing was done and had the room locked up permanently. These chambers were built in the months following that,” Tywin explained, looking over my shoulder at the windows so he wouldn’t have to meet my eyes. He was sucking in his cheeks the way he did whenever he felt the urge to cry. 

I remained quiet, wrapping my arms around him and keeping him close. For a moment, he simply stood there and processed his emotions. Then I felt his hand on the back of my head, and the other around my back. Tywin leaned into me completely and allowed himself the comfort. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, calming himself with my familiar scent and forcing himself to pull away from me. I nodded, placing a reassuring hand on his chest.

“Of course, my love.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and then looked around, nodding casually.

“Come, we ought to change for the feast. I’m afraid that your wardrobe is going to be entirely crimson this week, wife,” Tywin noted, moving away and going to the closet. Upon opening it, I saw that he was correct. A range of dresses were there, but all adorned with red and gold. 

Tywin, on the other hand, was afforded his usual coats. I saw him reach for the black one with gold lions along the bottom and the lapels. 

“Is there a particular dress you’d like to see me in tonight?” I asked, coming up beside him and carefully running my hands through the various garments to examine them all. 

“This one.”

Tywin stopped my hand, reaching in for the dress I was currently on and pulling it out. It was positively gorgeous, with shoulders and sleeves that were precisely Lannister styled. 

I smiled at my husband, taking the gown from his hands and going over to the mirror. I placed it down on the small table beside me, watching as Tywin approached and began to help me undo the back of my dress. We’d become quite used to doing this, it seemed. 

“Thank you, Tywin,” I said softly, removing my current dress completely and reaching for the other one. He stopped me, however, and opted to help me with that too. 

“If you decide to jest right now, I’ll let you do it yourself,” he said then, noticing the smirk on my face as I opened my mouth. I did not reply, but gave a hearty laugh and moved into the dress as he needed me to. I knew that if I did decide to speak, I’d be unable to resist teasing that he was better than Cerella.

Either way, he persisted in his task and made sure everything was in place. I had a feeling that we’d be making quite the entrance tonight and he wanted to take the opportunity to show me off a bit. 

Once he’d finished helping me dress, I returned the favor and fixed his hair. Though he gave me a look, not enjoying the same minute attention that he was always giving me, I knew he at the very least appreciated it. My husband was not very nit-picky about his appearance, but he was well groomed.

“Everyone’s going to stare when we enter the hall,” I noted, observing how we both looked in the mirror and finding that we painted quite the picture. We looked every bit the lord and lady of Casterly Rock.

“It’s almost as if that was what I had intended,” he replied sarcastically, hand brushing against the side of my face. I rolled my eyes at him, grabbing his arm with the implication that he ought to escort me to the great hall now. We had passed by it during the ‘tour,’ but Tywin had insisted I would see enough of it at the feast.

“Come, husband. I desire a good meal.”

Tywin said no more, leaving the room with me on his arm. As we walked, servants and members of the extended family could not help but gape. It seemed that even beyond the fact that I was Tywin’s new wife, the sight of us was rather intense. After all, both Tywin and I had always held ourselves with the utmost confidence. It’s a skill one learns when they intend to acquire power and respect.

“That makes 23,” I whispered to him as another maid walked past us. Tywin raised his eyebrow with me, clearly not understanding what I meant by ‘23.’

“23?”

“The 23rd person who was gaped upon seeing us. By the time we make it to the great hall, there won’t be anybody left in the castle who hasn’t,” I joked, laughing to myself as he shook his head. 

“All the Lannisters anywhere near Casterly Rock have been invited to this feast. When we walk through the large double doors, I promise you that far more than 23 people will be gaping,” he muttered back to me, turning into a much larger, grander hallway. When I spotted the great doors at the end of it, a sort of nervousness filled me. It was almost as if I had just processed that the man beside me was the only person I truly knew here. 

When we reached the doors, two servants reached for the handles and began to pull them open. A crack of light appeared in front of me, and Tywin broadened his shoulders beside me. I did the same, holding my head high despite my fear.

A lion does not concern itself with the opinions of the sheep.

I did not bother to contemplate that I wasn’t actually a lion but a rose, and that I was quite literally walking into the lion’s den. It wouldn’t have mattered though, because the only lion that truly mattered was Tywin.

Both doors swung open completely, and it took everything in my power to not react to the great hall. It was absolutely huge, and certainly gorgeous. More than that, I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever seen so many blonde haired people in one room. There were at least a hundred Lannisters seated among the various tables, and when they realized who was entering, they all stood up.

After waiting a moment, Tywin continued into the hall and made his way directly down the middle, approaching the head table where Kevan, Genna, and their respective partners sat waiting for us. When we got there, I pulled my hand off of Tywin’s arm and watched as he pulled out my chair. The room was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop, as everyone was so entranced by the scene before them.

Tywin Lannister pulling out another person’s chair?

I sat down, looking over at him as he pulled out his own chair and joined me. Once we were both seated, the hall was filled with the sound of chairs scraping, everyone eager to sit back down. I let out the breath I had been holding in, glad that people were no longer watching so carefully.

“My dear, I think half of the men in this room forgot they were married,” Genna said, leaning over towards me and smiling. I let out a good laugh, shaking my head at her. 

“I beg to differ, but thank you for the flattery. I think they were more shocked to see Tywin letting someone grab his arm.”

We both laughed then, causing Tywin and Kevan to look over at us curiously. My husband took a deep breath.

“What is so amusing, wife?”

“Nothing that concerns you, husband.”

He merely shook his head at me, turning back toward his brother and chatting about something or other. They were prone to intellectual and political conversations, and I quite frankly was not interested at the moment. 

“Would you give me a run down, Genna? I would assume you know all of these people much better than Tywin does,” I reasoned, glancing around at everyone surrounding us. They were slightly below us too. Genna nodded instantly, taking a sip of her wine and then motioning about the hall as she spoke.

“Most of these people are cousins, but obviously some are closer than others. The third cousins and such are at that table back there. There are also the Lannisters of Lannisport, though I am not quite so familiar with them. Think of it this way, the closer the table, the closer they are to Tywin. Everyone at these first two tables is a cousin, nephew, or niece. There are a few grandchildren too, of course,” Genna explained, pointing out a few different people to me afterwards. I tried as hard as I possibly could to ferment the information in my brain, even if it was a pointless endeavor. 

As Genna was pointing out a few people at the table to our left, I couldn’t help noticing that Tywin was staring at something. Kevan was talking, of course, but my husband was sipping his wine and somewhere entirely different. I glanced over at where I assumed he was looking and caught sight of two older but quite handsome women. I furrowed my eyebrows and inquired about them to Genna.

“Genna, who are those two women? Seated right here to our left?”

“Oh, those two are cousins, daughters of Jason Lannister.”

“Are they..?”

“Joanna’s younger sisters? Yes. Tywin does his utmost to avoid them, it seems.”

I looked at them once more, observing that they looked quite similar, and reasoned that perhaps Joanna had too. Glancing at Tywin, I realized that he looked utterly numb. Many would argue that he always did, but I knew better.

I reached under the table, taking his free hand in mine and giving it a good squeeze. He seemed surprised by this, and when he turned his head to face me, I gave him a knowing look. In no way was his staring offensive to me, for I understood that seeing two faces which looked so similar to one that no longer existed must be hard. 

“Are you alright?” I whispered, furrowing my eyebrows with a bit of concern. Tywin inhaled and nodded, leaning over and pressing his lips to my forehead. I was surprised that he had done it so publicly, but perhaps it was what he needed.

“Yes, my dear. All is well.”

I nodded at him, not letting go of his hand even when I turned back to Genna and continued to talk with her. I knew Tywin had quite the troubled past, but that would only encourage me to try and soothe him. For how could I claim to love this man if I did not accept him in his entirety? 

Though there was no doubt in my mind our week at Casterly Rock would be wonderful, I knew it would not be without bitter memories, and I was entirely prepared to comfort my husband whenever I felt he needed it.

Tywin would never admit that seeing Joanna’s sisters made him solemn, but I would know. He would never admit that being at Casterly Rock in itself brought back countless memories of his late wife, but I would know. It was the most curious thing that I knew whenever Tywin was upset. But was it not my job as his wife? As the woman he loved? 

Oftentimes, I found it was easier to know Tywin than myself. Flaws or grievances that you might shame yourself for become endearing when they are attached to someone you love, and I had certainly discovered that. For Tywin—despite his various flaws, questionable morals, and lack of emotional stability—was so important to me now that I could not imagine myself without him. And sitting at the high table of Casterly Rock, I felt more than just content. I felt completely overjoyed.

For now, among my various other titles, I was the Lady of Casterly Rock.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro

[iamvegorott]

Ink Month 2023 Day 8

Pumpkin

CW: Anti does discuss when he slit his own throat. Nothing too graphic, but adding a warning to be safe

----------

Dark washed his hands in the sink, getting the rest of the pumpkin residue off his skin before grabbing a towel and drying them off. He’d clean and cook the pumpkin seeds after he finished carving the pumpkin. 

“How is it coming along?” Dark asked, going to the table where Anti was drawing on the pumpkin with a Sharpie. He had the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips as he worked on the final line. 

“And done.” Anti turned the pumpkin around and showed the face he’d drawn out. 

“Terrifying.” Dark chuckled, picking up the large knife as Anti sat the pumpkin in front of him. 

“Wait until I get the blood involved. Then it’ll look scary as fuck.” Anti giggled. 

“Please tell me you’re using fake blood.” Dark glanced his eyes over to Anti before putting his full focus on the pumpkin, pushing the knife into its ‘eye’. 

“Chase would give me hell if…I didn’t…” Anti’s voice trailed off, silently watching Dark work on the carving. 

“You okay?” Dark popped out the triangle-shaped eye. 

“I…huh…” Anti started at the pumpkin. “I didn’t think I’d ever really think of that again.”

“Think of what?” Dark lowered the knife, getting concerned about the look in Anti’s eyes. 

“The day I got a body.” 

“Maybe we should do something else. We can work on the seeds or just go out for a walk or-”

“Have you been through that before?” Anti ignored Dark’s suggestions, seeming to be off in his own world. “Slitting your own throat?” 

“Not that specifically. Let’s go do something else.” Dark placed the knife on the other side of the table, keeping it out of Anti’s reach. 

“It’s a strange feeling. It hurts at first. Piercing the skin always does, but then everything gets warm and wet.” Anti traced his fingers across his neck. 

“Anti, darling, can you sit down for me?” Dark placed a gentle hand on Anti’s shoulder.

“Huh? Oh…sure.” Anti let Dark guide him to turn and sit on a kitchen chair. 

“Stay right here.” Dark stepped away long enough to fill a cup with some water before returning and handing it to Anti, crouching in front of him so he could see his face better. 

“Why do I have this?” Anti asked, looking down at the cup in his hand. 

“Drink it, trust me, it’ll help.” Dark’s voice was soft and tender.

“Alright.” Anti shrugged and took a sip. He paused and then downed the rest of the water. 

“Are you still with me?” Dark asked, taking the empty cup and setting it aside. 

“Did I leave?” Anti asked back, looking genuinely confused. 

“A little.” Dark placed a hand on Anti’s face, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. 

“What the fuck was that about?”

“We’ll talk about it later. You’re going to need some rest.” 

“Why am I so tired?” Anti tried to fight it off, but he couldn’t stop from leaning against Dark’s hand, eyes heavy and having to blink hard in hopes of not keeping them closed. 

“It happens. Moments like that take a lot out of you.” Dark straightened back up. 

“I hate it,” Anti grumbled as Dark lifted him to his feet and then lifted him in his arms fully. 

“We all do.” Dark felt Anti wrap his arms and legs around him. 

“Being held feels nice.” Anti tucked his face into the crook of Dark’s neck. 

“That’s good to hear.” Dark carried Anti to the bedroom and laid him out of the bed, getting their shoes off before laying down with him. 

“Don’t leave again.” Anti curled up against Dark’s chest, holding his shirt with both hands. 

“I won’t. I’ll stay right here while you sleep, I promise.” Dark rubbed Anti’s back. 

“Stay,” Anti mumbled, trying to press as much of his body against Dark as he could, seeking more of the comfort having another person was bringing him.

“I will,” Dark whispered and softly started humming, feeling that Anti slowly relaxed more and more as time went on. “It’s okay, Anti.” He said out loud when he knew Anti was asleep and couldn’t hear him. “I understand.” 

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"No Normal Person Would." The Game Master X Player! Reader.

Okay here it is! My first contribution to bloodfest! My week one fic is coming in under the wire, but I hope that is okay! So I watched The Odds (2018) a bit ago and decided that yeah I fucking love The Game Master (yeah we don’t learn his real name, how hot is that?) and when I saw the prompts for the first week of bloodfest I just had to! I hope you all enjoy! 

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 5K. The Game Master x AFAB! Player! Reader. Warnings: Torture. Gore. Fucked Up Emotional Intimacy. Almost Drowning. Drilling. Cutting Off Fingers. Vaginal Sex. Cream Pie. Orgasm Denial. DUB CON! Vaginal Fingering. Gun Play. Just A Lot. Praise. Mild Degradation. Movie Canon Violence. 

—

You needed the money, like you really, really fucking needed the money. Normally you wouldn’t ever even dream of doing something like this but screw it, you were desperate, this money, if you did this right? It would fix all of your problems. To be fair, most normal people wouldn’t ever consider participating in a tiered torture competition without some serious motivation, and fuck if you weren’t motivated. You were in such a tight spot and when you’d heard this suggested, you thought it was a joke, you simply laughed and said, “God, if it was true I’d do it in a heartbeat.” 

And as it turns out, it isn’t a joke at all. You could actually do this. 

It took longer than a heartbeat for you to make the jump. But not that much longer. 

You looked into it, did the needed research and after some brief thought, fuck it, you agreed.

The idea is you will be brought to the location with a bag over your head, will be brought to a room, be one on one for as long as it takes with one other individual who will be your overseer for the competition, The Game Master. He is able to communicate with the other people who work for, whatever the fuck this company or organization, collective is. He will let you know when the appropriate people have dropped out of each round, once enough have abandoned the task, unable to take it, you are safe and advance to the next round. Fair enough for you. 

You show up to the place day of, the material obscuring your view is over your head, and before you know it after some travel, the bag is ripped off. You are seated in a chair, in a dull mostly concrete room, seated on a chair at a wooden table and across from him. 

He stands at six foot and two inches, very light blue dress shirt, slacks and a belt, a nice tie, dark hair that is well-kept, slight stubble on his face and brown eyes and tells you he needs to set up. You watch as he does, two cameras, an earpiece. He talks, there are nineteen other people all over the world playing, in other secretive locations, he goes into some of the finer details, but it doesn’t matter much, you are just more concerned with making it through, with winning. The most important detail is that if you leave before the end then you get zero from this, zilch, a massive fucking goose egg and that just will not do. 

You don’t know his name, you try to ask, and he tells you simply with a glance, his eyes firm, his tone leaving no room for argument, “No names.” He allegedly finds it better if you keep things less personal. Alright. 

Curiosity in this situation is natural, who the hell is this man, how did he get mixed up in this, how much is he getting paid to make you suffer for other's entertainment? How does one get the title of paid to professionally torture, anyway? What did it say about him? But to be fair, what did it say about you for accepting this in the first place?

If you make it to the final round, you aren’t allowed to leave, it’s either do or die, win or cease to be, and you were committed, sure you were going to win this. You had to be, had to convince yourself because if you didn’t, well…It’s not worth thinking about, there is no other option. 

You tried asking a few other probing questions, but he wasn’t giving up much. You still tried it, as if getting to know him better would make this easier, but he is kinda a cagey guy, an odd mix between professional and casual. You wonder if that is intentional to throw you off. 

All too soon, the first torture implement was brought out. 

A tall red wax candle is placed on the table in the space between you. 

It’s time to start soon, there is casual conversation to fill the space between you both, whoever is watching cannot hear you, he encourages you to tell him your secrets if you want, you aren’t running at the chance, however. 

His hand goes up to the earpiece, holds, he listens, and then a silver zippo lighter is brought out from his pocket with his opposite hand. He flicks it open, he lights it up, and the candle is burning in short order. 

The first round is simple. Hold your hand to the candle for as long as you can and try to outlast the other players, you just have to outlast three players, you do that, you make it to round two. 

He asks about your motivation, why you are here, it isn’t important, you just need the money, you saying that leads to him telling you, “I don’t think I could ever risk my life for a big pile of money.”

You suppose that difference in character is why you are on your side of the table, and he is on his. He might not risk his own life for money, but he seems very at ease and comfortable risking yours. 

He speaks, “Hey, listen. Look at me.” You do, and he speaks further, “I’m rooting for you. We’re in this together, you and me. You understand?” 

He tells you to relax, your eyes squint as he expounds that mental fortitude is important, that if you want to have any hope of winning you should keep that in mind. Some strange and small part of you wants to believe him, the doubt curling in your stomach tells you that you shouldn’t, for now, you listen to it. 

The first round begins. 

You’d done this before as a teen for kicks, who hasn’t? Taking a friend's lighter and seeing how long you can hold your hand to it before pulling away, that shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? 

You were stupid. Very stupid. Thirty seconds in, you realized that you were stupid as fuck. It hurts, it burns, obviously, the pain is steady and worsening every agonizing second, the palm of your hand is blistering. Your breathing is the first thing to change, to become more laboured, short gasping pants as you try to endure the hurt that was crawling up your arm. The sweat on your skin feels slick and oppressive, it’s running down your temple, you are biting your cheek, eyes squeezed shut as you try to hold in your pained sounds. C’mon focus, you can do this, you can fucking do this-

You don’t think you can, it’s awful, the smell is starting to hit you, terrible, acrid, burning flesh is not a pleasant oral factory experience, who would have thought? Mind awash with the dreadful physical terribleness that was overtaking every single part of you, one thing cuts through, his voice, “Let it out.” 

Eyes open with a gasp, sharp and short, he says, “It’s easier if you don’t hold it in”

Mouth opens and you do so, groans of pain accompany your fucked up breathing, your other hand is gripping the table's edge, nails bite into wood, and you say in a hoarse voice, “Fuck-fucking hurts-”

He cracks a small smile, stifles a laugh and says, “Yeah it’s supposed to, that’s the point-”

You let out a louder groan, a roll of your eyes as you say, “Not the time for jokes here!” 

“It’s not a good distraction?” He inquires, and you shake your head, your hand lets go of the edge of the table, it comes up and grips your wrist, fighting to keep your hand above the flame. Eyes are locked on that point, fixed on where bright white, yellow, orange bleeds and flickers, singeing your skin, and you swear that looking at it makes it worse, the pain more acute. You really don’t think you can keep going, and his voice is there again, “You can do this.” 

That tears your attention away and back to him, “One person is already out, you have this-”

“I can’t, I rea-lly don’t think-” He interrupts his hand on the table, near the base of the candle, ready to take it away, “Another dropped out, one more, come on-”

You can’t help it, you whimper and your eyes water, another minute, just try to last one more minute, and you focus on him, the words that are pouring out of his mouth, praise and encouragement, “You are doing so good, nearly there.”

At just the right time, finally, he says, “And the last one dropped out.” 

You both move at once, you snatch your hand away, and he tugs the candle back, and you laugh in relief. You hold your injured hand to your chest, a shaky exhalation your eyes slip close, holding your wrist still, trying to keep yourself steady, but it proves impossible. 

A few deep breaths, it still hurts but not as badly, your eyes open again, and you look down at your wound, you grimace, it looks really rough, looks about as bad as it hurts. 

You hear him moving, your eyes flick over, and you see him with a small case in his hands, he comes forward, one hand out, “May I?”

Eyes narrow, and you realize it’s a first aid kit, you concede, you nod and gets down on his knees next to you. He is adjusting his tie and your eyes are fixed on him as you are turning in your chair to face him better, you hold your hand out and let him take it. You watch as he works, cleaning you up, burn ointment and as he is carefully wrapping up the wound he says, “I told you that you could do it.” 

You suppose he did. He finishes up with the first aid, and you let yourself smile as you look at what a good job he did. Strange that he is well versed in both sides of this, you suppose it is in the interest of longevity, minor first aid between rounds to encourage the game to go on as long as possible. How many times has he done this? Is the other thought that permeates your mind due to the skill he displayed here. 

The question travels from your brain to your mouth and spills forth without thought, “How many times have you done this?”

He is packaging back up the first aid kit, a casual glance your way, his look is considering, and he finally says, “Fifteen times.” 

You want to ask how many have won, but you feel like he wouldn’t dignify that with a response. He blows out the candle, it’s taken away, and you ask, “So do you like this?”

The next look he gives is one of offence, not taking kindly to the idea that you think he likes watching people hurt themselves, “Really? You think I get off to this?” 

“Get off to, get off on, I’m not here to pass judgment.” You joke and you are met with silence. You pivot, “Why else would you do this?” 

“You’ve never done something you know wasn’t good for you?” The fact he asked this question in this current venue and situation is not lost upon you, as you sit in an uncomfortable wooden chair, in the stark, barren, concrete room alone with your tormentor you think that no, ultimately, this isn’t good for you.

The next round isn’t much better. Your shoes and socks are removed, he has a wooden box, a small space you have to twist to get your left foot into it, you ask what is the deal and there is an animal in there. You ask what animal, and he tells you it’s different every time, he legitimately doesn’t know. 

You hate this. You have to do it, though, you aren’t going to bitch out the second round in. Foot in the box, the divider is lifted and whatever it is before you know it is crawling all over you, this might be worse than the candle, if for nothing else than the not knowing what the hell was in there. It gets worse, whatever it is, starts biting, you gasp, hand grips the table's edge, and he helps, he takes your hand and you let him. 

He is right there, on his knee again, he’s looking in your eyes, comforting you, as you whine and babble through the pain and unconformability he finds the words that grounds you, that helps. 

“Do it for me.” 

You ask shakily, “Do-do it for you?” He nods, “Do it for me.” 

Nervously, the words are repeated, “Do it for you.” 

He encouraged and emboldens you, fingers laces, and he says, “Say it again.” 

“Do it for you.” It becomes a mantra, you let it fill your brain, you lose yourself in his eyes as you say over and over, “Do it for you. I’m doing it for you. Do it for you.” 

You don’t think about what is happening, you just think about how the words roll off your tongue, how his hand feels in yours and how shockingly this is endearing you to him. You are starting to feel more than just pain. You outlast the others, you make it through the round, the tears are a shock, you cry and on instinct you reach out, and he holds you, he lets you sob.

Eventually you stop. He dresses your wound again in the quiet. 

After that he offers you water, you take it gratefully, and you drink as you find yourselves locked in another conversation. Back in the chairs, he is sitting backwards on it, arms crossed, leaning on it like one of those “cool” teachers in an after school special. 

“You were clinging onto me pretty hard there.” He teases, and you pull the water bottle away, the back of your non-bandaged hand wipes over your mouth, and you say, “It was an intense experience.” 

“That orrrr has it been a while for you?” 

You laugh, nearly snort, “Yeah, I was just so desperate to be held, that’s it.” He hums, “Well, everyone needs some contact from time to time. Humans are social creatures.” 

“Who says I need that particular brand of socialization?” You bite out, and he says, “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t believe in love.”

You purse your lips, a casual shrug as you look away, and he says, “You don’t do you! A damn shame, you know, I could change that.” 

“What, are you asking me out?” You laugh, and he says, “More than that, why not just go all in? Indulge in the fantasy with me, let’s plan our life.” 

You have nothing else to do, this is oddly fun, it’s kinda strange but not unwelcome flirting with him, it's helping keep your mind off this fucked up situation, so you do as he asks, you indulge. “Sure okay, you tell me, what you think our life would be like.” 

“We could get married-” You cut in already, leaning in closer, “Married? First thing?”

Brows pinch together, eyes a little harder, but he is still smiling as he tells you, “I don’t do that cohabitation shit, you commit, you have to be all in.” 

A nod as you say, still grinning, “Okay, okay, all in, we get married.” 

“And we could do the whole family thing, have a house out in the suburbs, away from all this with your big pile of prize money, because you are going to win-” 

You listen as he talks more in depth, one foot comes up onto the chair, you hug your leg, chin resting on your knee as he outlines kids names, potential pets, the pros and cons of paint versus wallpaper. He knows what he wants. He’s really thought about this. It’s weird, but he is so enthusiastic, so unexpectedly charming that you play along, this is a good distraction if nothing else. 

“What do you say?” He asks, and you say, “Well if we are doing this shouldn’t you do this right?” 

“Right?” He asks, brows raised, and you say, “Actually ask me, you haven’t even asked yet.” 

A hand comes up, smacking himself in the forehead with a roll of his eyes, unmistakably playful, and you laugh again, “I am such a fucking idiot.” 

He gets up, he walks over to his bag, the first aid kit is gotten again, you wonder what the fuck he is doing, but you get your response soon. He is back over to you, on one knee again he asks, “Will you marry me?”

What a wild day this has turned out to be. You don’t know his name, and you don’t know his, in between fucked up rounds of torture, but you join in, you play it up, right hand up to your mouth as you commit to the bit, “Yes, oh my God, yes.” 

You both break down and laugh over how ridiculous this is. Your left hand is taken in his, and you see what he did, he got a small piece of gauze from the first aid kit, it’s tied around your left ring finger. You bring your hand up after he is done, admiring the small bow, he speaks, you look over at him, still on his knees, and he says, “A placeholder.”

“You’ll get me the real thing once we are outta here?”

“So long as you can wear it, of course.”

What the fuck does he mean by that?

The next round is the worst so far, your other foot is put into another box, there are screws, he has a power drill and fuck this is going to suck.

How many times is he going to get on his knees for you today, Goddammit?

Your heart is racing, you are clenching your firsts so hard that the makeshift ring on your finger hurts. He pulls you out of your thoughts once again, “I’m sorry.”

He apologized to you before hurting you, what a gentleman, you muse before the first screw is driven in. It’s a lot to handle. You are delicious, woozy, the round is a blur, it goes by too fast and too slow all at once, and the removing of the screws was much worse than them being put in. You made it through. 

After more first aid he slips you some pain medication, he isn’t supposed to, but you take it subtly, a quiet and sincere thank you is given. 

You and he sit down on the ground, you talk, you lie together as if in the grass and cloud watching. You tell him you don't know if the suburbs are for you, maybe you’d like to go live in the country and shockingly, he bends. “You give up your white picket fence dream just like that?” 

You ask with a snap of your fingers, and he looks from your face back up to the ceiling, he shrugs and sighs out, “What can I say? I’m a fool in love. I just want to make you happy.” 

What a hopeless romantic. You hold his hand in your uninjured one and enjoy the compatible and comfortable silence. 

Before the fourth round, he makes you tell him you love him. He sees how nervous you are, and he insists, “If you say it, you’ll feel better, you’ll trust me more. If we love each other, you know for a fact you’ll make it through, that I won’t hurt you.”

“You have already hurt me.” You say, and he scoffs, “Because I have to. Again, I don’t want to do this.”

Sure. 

The words tumble out because what else are you meant to do? “I love you.” 

“There you go.” He plays with your hair and pointedly doesn’t say it back, a finger curling a lock around the digit before he pulls away, and the round has to start. You could laugh.

You almost drown. There is a fish tank, and he holds your head down into it, a hand on the back of your neck, the other arm wraps around your waist, he holds you and your life in his hands. You are completely out of it, you can’t hear anything, and you almost black out, because of this you can’t feel the kiss he presses to the back of your bare shoulder, nor hear the sweet nothing's he whispers to you. 

He gives you a towel to dry your hair after, your shirt is soaked and clingy, and you think that is how the conversation turns to sex. The question is abrupt, “How old were you when you lost your virginity?” 

He is so close again, he always wants to be close to you, encroach on your personal space, and you aren’t exactly shying away from him. “Why do you want to know that, exactly?”

“Just doing what we have been all afternoon, making conversation, filling the space between screams.” He says with a grin that is a little too easy and comfortable. He reaches out, a hand meets the soft skin of your shoulder, thumb rubs over, and it doesn’t linger on such an innocent spot for long, the backs of his knuckles brush down lower and traces over the curve of your breast. Eyes go wide and his gets bolder, he grips, cups you, and you gasp, body jerking back.

“Woah! What are you doing?” 

He laughs, “Oh come on, you want this, you’ve been flirting and staring all day-” He isn’t wrong, but you were doing it for a distraction, to fill the space, smooth things out and hopefully make him go easier on you perhaps he is right, maybe there is more to this, maybe you actually do want this. He isn’t done talking, “You can leave at anytime, you know that, but we also both know that you won’t go.”

“I won't?” You ask quietly, and he leans in closer, his hand meets your cheek, he tilts your head just so, “Because you know you belong here, you deserve this.” 

Do you? He isn’t done, he’s closer still, and he says, “Your whole life has been one long lonely path that has led you to me.” He leans in, and he kisses you and fuck it, you return it. 

You figure, why not? Why can’t this happen? You are stressed as all hell and in a decent amount of pain from the injuries you sustained, maybe this could give you an edge, the pain meds he slipped you helped, but does anything relive pain quite like a good orgasm? 

Breaking apart and in between heated presses of your lips together, he tells you, “I fucking knew it, I knew this wasn’t bullshit, knew you were actually into me.” 

Guy is just a tad cocky, but you aren’t exactly pushing him away, you lean closer, kiss deeper and upon the next parting of your mouths he says, “You wanna go further?”

“How much further?” You inquire and he says, “Depends. Do you want to make love one last time as a whole person?”

It doesn’t take a genius to put together what he means, the next round is going to involve you removing some part of yourself, that is terrifying. You want to lose yourself in him, you agree, a weak moan into his mouth, “Yes please-”

That is how you find yourself now. Your tank top pulled up, bra pulled down, jeans crumpled on the ground and your panties hanging off one ankle, he’s removed his tie, and he is tying it around your wrists. “Any particular reason for this?”

“Just to make sure you don’t try anything funny.” He hums, a finger slides under the substitute for restraints, and he tugs, you nod to confirm that it is not too tight. Soon his own pants are down, shirt is unbuttoned and when he slides home, hands on your thighs you groan, eyes rolling back. You wish you knew his name, so you had something to moan that was more intelligible. 

The lack of foreplay was no issue, you were embarrassingly wet from all the build up and closeness this afternoon, something he called you on, and you couldn’t even defend, instead laughing with a far too fond, “Shut up.” 

“No.” 

It was too intimate, he barely knew you, proposal and torture or not, he is touching you, feeling you, holding himself to you, hands on your hips, his chest to yours, close and familiar, as if he knew you, like really knew you for years worth of time. He acted in this way as if he could name your first crush when you were a kid and as if he knew your opinions on what was better, cake or pie and as if he knew your deepest intimate thoughts and feelings on what was the best musical that got robbed at the fucking Tony’s.

It isn’t all sweetness, all brushes of his hands over your curves or purposeful rolls of your hips where his pelvis grinds into you just so, it’s rough too. Moments where fingers hook in woven silk that used to be secured around his neck with a double Windsor knot and using that point of contact to pull you closer, fuck you deeper. Soft cupping of tender flesh turns into pinches, sharp slaps as your moans bleed to a sound that is more pained, to gasps and calls for a hint of mercy he refuses to provide. 

He speaks, buried deep inside and with his lips caressing yours he tells you all manner of delight and filth, from things along the lines of, “I want to keep you-” to “Your cunt is fucking strangling me-”

It makes your head spin. You are completely taken in by the moment and in being so caught up, moving with him, returning the sentiments, you find your voice, and you beg, “Keep me, let me be yours, don’t let us end tonight-”

That does something to him, pace picks up, nails bite into your hips, you arch and rock forward, meet him in the middle, and you watch it happen, head tipping back, a thick swallow, a flex of his cock inside your swollen walls and a bob of his Adams apple and his rhythm stutters. He holds deep, and he cums inside without asking, you moan as he does, in pleasure and in loss, he came before you could, eyes slipping closed as you resign yourself to your current fate, whatever it may be with him.

It’s silent, save for you both catching your breath. He tells you on an exhalation, “I will make it up to you.”

He pulls out, cum spills from your well fucked hole, and you are left heaving on the table as he pulls away, he is straightening up his clothing and the attendant comes in, bringing in the items for the next round. Said attendant doesn’t even look at you, as if this is normal. 

He tells you he will make it up to you. While you are heaving on the table, leaking cum, he is straightening out his clothing, the items for the next round are brought in. The guy who brings them in doesn’t look at you, as if this is regular. The attendant leaves. 

You get up on shaky legs, you start redressing slowly now that he has taken his tie back, he pulls out the items from a bag, and he explains what is expected.

“You are meant to cut off notches of your fingers on your left hand, once knuckles worth on each pass.” You nod, listening as your jeans are buttoned up, the leftovers of his cum are messing up your panties. You pull your tank top back down as you plop into the chair, you’d still been listening to him all the while, and he leans in, a hand on your arm, he kisses your sweaty hairline and asks, “You understand sweetheart?”

You nod along, and he leans down, he whispers that he fully intends to finish the job if you win the game. 

You figure it’s extra incentive if nothing else. 

Your left hand will never be the same, you lose two whole fingers. He asks to keep your pinkie and ring finger, mutilated beyond belief in the glass jaw you deposited the pieces in, and you laugh with a disgusted shake of your head. You affectionately call him a freak, and he preens under the name as if you called him handsome. 

Eyes are locked on the jar, the small makeshift ring is in there, the gauze looks bloody and almost unrecognizable amongst your ruined flesh and bone. 

The game goes on.

By the time it is done, the gun is on the table, you are alive, you did it, you won. Your feet are fucked, you nearly drowned, both hands bandaged, one from the burns and the other from cutting off several bits of your own fingers, but you don’t care, he’s making it better. 

His hands are very much intact, he has two fingers buried inside of you and his mouth on your neck, he’s saying the sweetest things, he’s praising you, telling you how wonderful you are, how well you did, he is building you up and finally with an arch and a cry? At long fucking last, through the haze of pain you cum, practically sobbing. 

You entered the arena alone, but you aren’t leaving it that way, he is inside you, buried in you like a tumour, terminal, malignant, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You won, you totally fucking won. 

[fukae-flwr]

Stained Hearts & Dark Desires

Chapter 6: Shadows and Memories

Summary: A man and woman enjoy a stroll through Knockturn Alley, learning tidbits about each other while having a tail in the shadows. Nothing goes wrong.

Words: 7.3k

Warning: blood, fighting, childhood trauma, mentions of crucio child abuse

Rating: MATURE 18+ (NO MINORS)

Chapter 7 ( coming soon)

It didn’t take long for Ominis and Edith to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Ominis stuck very close to Edith, still needing his wand to navigate around. His wand could only “see” so far, like a light illuminating the area around it. Edith, thankfully didn’t walk very fast either; she kept pace with Ominis but remained quiet.

When they finally arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, it wasn’t much to look at on the outside. It was definitely not the kind of place he imagined his family ever ventured to unless absolutely necessary. Dark wooden doors with windows above that were too high up to look through, not to mention the texture of the windows would have made it difficult to get a clear image.

“I have actually never been to the Leaky Cauldron myself.” Ominis opted to break the uncomfortable pregnant silence they had since leaving. Edith’s silhouette turned towards him, no longer facing forward.

“Really?” She was surprised.

“It’s not exactly the kind of place my family would associate with when I was child, and given how the majority of my time requires me to be traveling around the wizarding world, I haven't had a need to stop by,” Ominis explained as they walked through the wooden doors. 

“What…about Sebastian?”

“I don’t believe he has ever been here as well.” Ominis eyed her carefully. Her curiosity for Sebastian’s life experiences was promising. Perhaps they could eventually get her to lower her walls. She was leading them past the main hall where a few patrons had been residing, enjoying their meals and drinks.

“Their dinner options here are quite good. Perhaps…we can come by again when we aren't as busy.” Edith mumbled under her breath. 

“I believe we’d enjoy that. He does like trying new places. Gives him ideas for meals he can prepare on his own.” Ominis had a soft smile.

“Well, it’ll give Penny a break from preparing meals for you two.”

“Yes, quite the hard-working elf you’ve employed, but don’t you mean to say the three of us.” Ominis nodded, not oblivious to Edith’s excuse behind her suggestion. He could hear how nervous she had become while suggesting that.

“She’s not employed. She chose to be with me. I've tried to pay her before, when I first freed her but she refused, saying all she wanted was to help her friend in any way she could.” Ominis frowned in confusion. Normally free elves sought out other employment, though that was a very difficult task in itself. The fact she declined Edith’s employment was unique. 

“So we agreed I’d take care of her and she takes care of me. I reward her for her efforts, give her breaks, make sure she has a place to call home, and food. In exchange she makes meals for me only when I ask, unless I've forgotten to eat the day before, then she prepares something light for me. As well as remind me when I haven’t slept in a few days.” Edith explained as if having heard Ominis' questions. Ominis stood in place letting her words sink in. He felt the need to take in a deep breath, as he placed his hand on the bridge of his nose. She hadn’t changed at all from when they were younger; she had gotten significantly worse. It seemed her habits of never sleeping and hardly eating were not a thing of the past just yet. 

 “What?”

“I’m completely confounded by your lack of an ability to take care of yourself.” Ominis exasperatedly responded, fighting the urge to march back into the Leaky Cauldron and force her to eat a real meal.

“What?” Edith chuckled. How was that something she laughed at?

“How you’re able to stand here today is truly a miracle.”

“Hey, I can take care of myself.”

“Evidently not.”

“I just forget sometimes, ok? Penny helps me with that.”

“Forgetting meals constantly is not taking care of yourself. You truly are fortunate to have met such a caring elf willing to do all that.” Ominis shook his head in disbelief. He and Sebastian were going to have to correct this matter immediately. He knew once Seb knew he would pull out all the stops to make the best meals ever, enticing her to want to eat. 

“I know.” Her response was so quiet, that he had almost missed it. It sounded almost sad. But before he could think harder on it, Edith had led them to a bricked wall behind the Leaky Caldron. She poked the wall with her wand and then suddenly the wall began to shift into an archway.

Ominis suddenly could hear the populated area in front of him; there was a small crowd going about their day. It reminded him of Hogsmeade but a tad busier. He had been to Diagon Alley before when he was younger and was in need of school supplies. He hadn’t been to the famous alley in a while since Hogwarts. It appeared to be the same as it was then. Shops lining the path of the alley, leading all the way to Gringotts. It wasn’t nearly as busy as when he had gone before the school year, but it was still well populated.

Ominis noticed how tense in the crowd Edith had become, even going so far as adjusting her hat to cover more of her features. He remembered how she never really enjoyed crowds but was never this bothered by them. He was willing to bet it had everything to do with becoming a wanted criminal by the Ministry. Something he was baffled by. How did someone go from helping every single person she came by in all the hamlets surrounding Hogwarts to a wanted criminal for crimes against wizardkind? She was always helping someone, to the point she began to be called everyone’s errand girl. She never took offense, considering she started to call herself that as well.

Ominis’s train of thought stopped as the atmosphere around him changed. No longer was it the upbeat, bustling magical place that was Diagon Alley. It was now cold, desolate and dreary. He began to take in his surroundings from his wand. They were entering Knockturn Alley.

“Remember, stay close to me and don’t say anything unless absolutely necessary.” Edith whispered as she straightened her posture while placing her hand on his arm. Upon her touch he felt electricity shoot up his arm. Clothing be damned, it did nothing to stop the warmth spread from her fingertips. Her small delicate hands wrapped around his arm, clinging to him with familiarity to pass off they were together made his face warm. He couldn’t help but imagine her delicate hands elsewhere on his body. He felt the need to cough softly trying to regain composure.

“Are you alright?” Edith questioned. 

“Fine.” He felt her eyeing him but immediately seemed to brush it off. Her slightly uncomfortable demeanor changed to one of confidence. She held her head high, and walked forward, towards the darken alley paying no attention to anyone around her. She gave off an aura of someone prideful and haughty. An attitude he expected of someone much like his family. Ominis was a little unnerved how well she could easily fall into that kind of attitude. He ended up following her example, paying no mind to anyone around, making sure to hold himself high.

He had never been to Knockturn Alley, for good reason. The Ministry's hold on this place was minimal at best. Everyone knew here some sort of workings with the dark arts was going on yet could never be proven. Auroras like himself only came to this place if needed; they weren’t exactly welcomed otherwise. Not to say he knew of an aurora being out right attacked here, but he didn’t hear anything pleasant either. Bringing unwanted attention like that to yourself was never a good idea. Ominis hoped Edith’s polyjuice potion would last long enough for them to get in and get out.

“Do you frequent Knockturn alley?” Ominis quietly asked, attempting to distract himself.

“It has its uses. Great for fleshing eating slug repellent. Little bastards are ruining my garden.” Edith cursed lightly.

“I didn’t see any garden on your tour this morning.” Ominis pointed out. She remained silent for a moment then decided to finally grace him with a response.

“I also have my own personal vivarium of sorts.” 

“Where in Merlin's name are you keeping it? Your residence is far too small for anything like that!” Ominis questioned. 

“A woman is entitled to her secrets Ominis.” Edith jested, her cold voice ever so slightly a little warmer.

“You, my dear, have too many secrets. I do believe we are long over due some answers.” Ominis half joked, half meant seriously.

“Perhaps, but what difference would it really make? What’s done is done. All we can do is move forward.” Edith was so soft spoken, a gentle breeze brushing by ever so gently. Her tone was light, yet her words were heavy. Move forward? Did she really expect them to just move on, like the last seven years didn’t happen? Like she hadn’t been a huge part of their lives at some point?!

“He can’t. I..can’t, Edith.” Ominis emphasized his tone growing bitter. He could hardly believe that was her solution to their inquiries about the last five years.

 Ominis had to take a moment to collect himself, otherwise he’d become no better than Sebastian, letting his anger get the best of him. They were currently in public, and now was not the best time for this conversation. But oh how his self control was being tested at this very moment. They deserved answers for everything, and Sebastian’s approach hadn’t exactly been the best but he didn’t blame him. He, himself, was unbelievably furious with her. He’d love nothing more than to sit her down and let her have it all, but his self control was much better than Sebastian’s.

“This topic is not something we should discuss here, but mark my words, Edith. This will come up again, and you can only avoid it for so long.” Ominis warned her, holding her hand firmly. Her heart had started to run rampant, giving her true emotions of nervousness away ever so slightly.

“I implore you and Sebastian to drop it.” Edith hissed in response, “It’ll do none of us any good to dig up the past.”

“Come now, Edith. You alone are fully aware of how stubborn Sebastian truly is.” Ominis reminded her.

“And what of you? You weren’t nearly as stubborn, and it seems to me you might have some control over him.” Edith spoked in such a hussed manner, with a tone almost sounding similar to begging. He was sure that wasn’t the case, much to the disappointment of a small buried part of him.

“Even if I did, which I most certainly do not, I wouldn’t deny him the very answers I am seeking as well. Why are you trying so hard to avoid this?” Ominis frowned, turning in her direction. She tightened her grip meaning to be threatening, but he felt no fear with her. In fact he was sure the only one afraid was her.

“Sometimes ignorance is bliss, Ominis.”

“Indeed, but you don’t get to decide that for others.” She just remained silent as they made it to a small hole in the wall book shop. It was an average small shop, nothing really of note on the outside. The inside was a dimly lit small two level shop filled with books, quills, and other items. There were shelves along the slightly curving wall to his right, a large bookcase centering the room, and a wooden staircase on the left wall. Most of the shelves bore normal books while having too many unnamed books as well. 

Ominis could hear the sounds of owls far above their heads. His wand wasn’t really able to pick up the owls movement but did see blurred diluted colors moving about like many owls would. 

Ominis felt Edith give him a little squeeze before removing her hand and began to walk forward to the desk at the end. He followed her, taking in everything around. Aside from the old and dreary appearance, it seemed just like an average book story with a few oddities, but that was the case for most stores in Knockturn Alley. A semi mundane front, nothing too eye-catching or illegal.

“My my, if it isn’t Penelope. Come back again to my little shop.” The elder woman cackled as Edith drew closer. Ominis didn’t question the fact that the woman called her by a different name. Edith was clearly a secretive person to unbearable fault; it was no wonder she gave a fake name. What puzzled him was that she didn’t change her appearance, though, from what he could tell.

“Hello, Hilda. How’ve you been keeping?” Edith greet with a gentle yet chilly tone. So she was on a first name basis with the shopkeeper. Good to know she frequented a place such as this quite often. Ominis just stood off to the side looking at the bookshelf in front of him with his wand.

“As if ya truly cared.” The woman scoffed, crossing her arms. Her manner of speaking was border line joking as well as not. Ominis couldn’t tell what their relationship truly was.

“You wound me, Hilda. I do care. Where would I be without your services, after all?” Ominis could hear the obvious fake sweetness Edith was offering the woman. Anyone could tell her words were lies, yet the woman took no offense.

“Who’s the cutie?” Hilda nudged her head towards Ominis. He could feel her leery eyes racking over his body. He was more grateful than he had been earlier to be under the influence of the polyjuice potion.

“Ernest, my plaything today. He's nobody.” Edith brushed him off nonchalantly. It stung a bit inside, but he understood her reasoning for it. Still hurt to hear from her directly, whether it was the truth or not. He sincerely hoped for it to be the latter.

“Well if ya ever tire of him, I'd be more than happy to ‘ave the help around ‘ere.” Hilda gestured to the store with a disgustingly unnerving tone. It was clear helping the store wouldn’t be the thing she really wanted from him. 

“Doubt I will, but I’ll keep you in mind. Now to business, if you would be a dear?” Edith clicked her tongue with a tone of disgust, before placing a piece of parchment on the counter with some coins.

“Right. What can I do fer ya today then?” Hilda took the note and pocketed the coin. Her tone had flipped a switch from creepy elder cougar to cool, serious business woman. Ominis felt he might have gotten whiplash from how vastly different she was acting now.

“I need to order a book, please.” Edith requested. Ominis fought his ever growing frown. A book? He was sure she had to send a letter.

“The Many uses of Knotgrass, if you’d be so kind.” Edith chimed. Ominis thought of knotgrass, a familiar plant used for potions. He was rubbish with potions, so he couldn’t recall all the uses of knotgrass. He pondered why Edith would be purchasing such a book.

“Delivery?”

“Yes please. If you could send Alphie, I’d greatly appreciate it. I do enjoy seeing the little guy.” Edith requested. Hilda barely made any noise of recognition as she wrote all the details down. She then began to move about behind the desk, looking for something on the many shelves behind her.

“Ever hear of Demiguises?” Hilda randomly mentioned as she checked her books. Edith shrugged, not at all alarmed by the random change in subject.

“I do find them to be quite charming creatures. I've never encountered one yet, perhaps one day. Why?”

“Got a new book all bout t’em. Did ya know they can see a glimpse of the future?” The woman rambled. She moved out from behind the desk, having given up her search back there, and attempted to search the shelves behind them. Edith kept her in her line of sight but remained in her place. The elder woman came to stand next to Ominis, a little too close for comfort. With her being this close, Ominis could make out her unruly wild haid kept in place by a cloth covering the top of her head and a dark dress. She was much shorter than him and Edith, and much older from how her skin hung from her features.

She never brushed against him thankfully, but his personal space was being slightly invaded. She waved her wand towards a higher shelf, not once taking her dark eyes off him. She didn’t even look away once the book began to hover down from the shelf above.

“Interesting. I have heard they were capable of such things. Makes them all the more fascinating, does it?” Edith’s voice was growing more cold, losing her mock warmth she had originally offered Hilda when they first entered.

“Could ya imagine ‘aving that talent? Always knowing what was lurkin ‘round the corner fer ya?” Hilda spoke ominously, slowly moving past Ominis back towards the desk.

“Could make one grow paranoid.” Edith warned. Ominis was certain they were communicating in a way he couldn’t understand. It was setting his nerves on fire. Talking in code that he couldn’t quite figure out just yet. Just as he started to rack his brain for what she could be talking about, he felt a chill run down his spine. Spiders tickled his skin with their feather light steps all over his skin; he was being watched. 

It wasn’t from Hilda. Otherwise, he would have felt it much sooner. It was a feeling he was familiar with. He quickly learned what it felt like to be watched by someone who didn't want him to notice. He was always acutely aware of the eyes on him. What his wand could pick up only showed the shop itself. He didn’t see any blurred figures that were his wand’s depictions of people in the room either. The second level didn’t have much either; more shelves filled with books, owls perched up above at the top of those shelves, and hanging on perches from the ceiling. But no other human-like figure was present in the shop. He wasn't certain whether it was him alone being watched or the both of them.

“That’s one way of lookin' at it. Anyways, I thought ya’d be interested, given how ya enjoy magical beasts.” Hilda concluded.

“Much appreciated, Hilda. Now when can I expect my book to be delivered?” 

“A couple days.”

“Any chance I can get it delivered sooner?”

“Alphie’s old. He’ll get there when he can.” Hilda concluded leaving no room for debate. Ominis could only assume Alphie was the owl Edith had made mention earlier. Edith was silent for a moment, tension building but relented.

“Thank you, Hilda. A pleasure as always.” Edith begrudgingly bid the woman farewell as she turned on her heels. She quickly reached for Ominis’s arm once more, and they made their way towards the door.

“Come again!” the woman called out out behind them before the door closed.

Edith’s grip on his arm was significantly tighter than she had before entering the book shop.

“She gave me a warning.” Edith whispered ever so softly, knowing only Ominis would be able to hear  considering how close they were. Ominis felt panic rise from the deepest pit inside but he cooled his emotions, placing his hand over Edith’s. He didn’t say anything, fearing the unwanted company still watching them would hear anything. He just continued to play the part of her current escort. 

“I’m sure you could feel it, but someone is following us.” Edith continued to guide him further down Knockturn.

“Where are we going?” Ominis questioned casually.

“Didn’t I say Knockturn is great for flesh eating slug repellent?” Edith answered at a normal volume. Ominis nodded recalling their earlier conversation. So she was going to continue to run her errands. Perhaps the perpetrator will expose themselves by following them into a closed space.

“There is an off chance. It may involve Anne.” Edith mumbled, “But I promise...”

“I can take care of myself, Edith. If it gives us a clue to Anne, do what you need.” Ominis whispered into her ear. He didn’t have to lean far thanks to the polyjuice, but he heard her heart suddenly pound in her chest, and her grip tightened just a tad more.

“Just…leave it to me then.” She led him down the street on Knockturn Alley. The next place they came across was like an apothecary mixed with a herbology nursery. The windows filled with plants and jars of all sorts of peculiar things, ranging from roots to strange liquids with floating plants. If any store was going to have flesh eating slug repellent, this place surely would. Ominis stepped forward to open the door for Edith.

“...Thank you.” She muttered quietly as she passed into the store. Ominis followed shortly after being sure to close the door behind him. Their presence was announced thanks to the bell above the door. Perfect for alerting them of anyone coming in after them. 

This shop was about the same size as the book store, but far more crowded by plants, and shelves filled with jars, and such. There were a few books here and there mostly on anything protraining to herbology. If Edith truly needed to know the uses of Knotgrass, this would’ve been the best place for it, though he was pretty sure she didn’t actually purchase the book.

“What do you grow in this garden of yours?” Ominis asked as they looked around the store. Edith didn’t stray far from his side but always positioned herself where she could see who was entering.

“Lots of things. Madrakes, chomping cabbages, plants for potions.” Edith listed off.

“All very useful for combat I see.”

“Best to always be prepared, but I do enjoy growing more simple things as well.”

“Such as?” Ominis could feel growing more relaxed as they distracted themselves with conversation until the ones in the shadows decided if they would come in.

“Food for myself and food for my beasts. Fresh produce is much better than any grocery could charge me for.” Edith concluded, sounding normal. She sounded so normal it was almost comforting. She could be an average witch talking about her own garden she enjoyed growing. There was no pretense or double faced meaning.

“I’d be delighted to see what you’ve accomplished so far. I am sure Sebastian could easily prepare a delicious meal from your grown produce.” Ominis suggested, offering her a chance to let him in perhaps. She didn’t say something immediately, quiet as ever. Ominis began to question if he had overstepped and she had retreated back into her defenses again.

“Well I guess I should really find that repellent then. Can’t show off my accomplishments, as you say, when those damned slugs are ruining it.” Edith finally answered. The tidewave that was relief crashed down on him; his shoulders even felt just a bit more relaxed. She was willing to show him and Sebastian her private garden. She was willing to open up that part of herself. Ominis could feel his inner self ecstatic with this baby step of a victory.  

“I don’t think they are coming in.” Edith grumbled as they stood in front of the same shelf they had been staring at for the past 5 minutes. They were just stalling for time to see if their shadows would come in, but it seemed that was not the case.

“Fine. Let’s move on. I’d say you’ve got about another 30 minutes before the polyjuice potion wears off.” Edith quickly grabbed a canister of fleshing eating slug repellent and marched up to the checkout counter. Linking arms once more, they exited the shop and continued on their way. The feeling of being watched had significantly lessened, still prickling the back of his neck, though.

“Someone is still watching us.” Edith pointed out, having noticed how the intensity had lessened.

“It would appear so.”

“I have one more stop, and then we can leave.” Edith mentioned. 

“What’s our next stop then?”

“Borgin and Burkes. I just need to peep in.”

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” Ominis raised an eyebrow in question. Borgin and Burkes is iconically known for its selling of dark magical items. It was a place under the Ministry’s watch, but they couldn’t prove they had been breaking the law, so let them go about their business.

“I usually know when I see it.” Edith’s answer was cryptic, unfortunately. Borgin and Burkes dealt in all sorts of strange items, mostly ancient relics that were often filled with dangerous dark magic. It was basically the beacon of Knockturn Alley. Well known and rightfully located.

“Please do be careful, Edith.” Ominis sighed as a slight headache formed. With constant itching on his back from the cowards hiding and Edith’s disregard for her own wellbeing, he was sure his nerves would not be taking a break any time soon.

“Worried, dear?” Edith teased, suddenly choosing to play the part in this act they had taken on while in Knockturn. Feeling a tad mischievous, Ominis smirked as he pulled her close to really whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Always, dear.” 

He heard her quiet gulp while her heart pounded a little more admimently. She quickly put some distance between them.

“How bold. We are in public afterall.” There was a bite to her response, almost embarrassed. He wished he had the ability to see what expression she wore right now.

Finally having arrived at Borgin and Burkes, Edith immediately straightened and released her hold on him. Unlike the other shop, Borgin and Burkes had much more space, filled with cases and shelves full of objects, reminding him of a collector's shop. The glass cases had old disturbing items in it, while open shelves had books and trinkets. Ominis knew better, hell he could feel the dark magic radiating from every corner of this place. Everything appeared as junk but he could feel the suffocating tendrils of dark magic flooding his senses. The entire shop gave him this eerie feeling. It was cold, and terrifying; a feeling of old magic caressing his skin, trying to coerce him into something. It compassed his entire being the second he walked into the door. All of it reminded him of the one place he dreaded and feared, the Gaunt estate. 

This place had the same isolating feel as his family residence did. The dark magic at play here matched that of the manor as well. All of it calling to a part of himself he fought back often. He was always sensitive to dark magic, knowing its feel and presence; it was something he had to practice gaining control over, lest it consume him, bringing forth a side he despised. He was very good about maintaining control, but even he had rough days. 

Edith continued her search for whatever it was she was looking for. She entered the shop, seeming to stop by every shelf and case to stare for a long moment before moving on. She was so focused on what she was looking for, Ominis started to look at each item as well.

“What are you looking for exactly?” He questioned as he held his wand to a glass case filled with ropes and dead things locked inside. Maybe if he helped her find what she was looking for, they could leave this dreary place at once.

“Something you won’t be able to see.”

“Given how I've never seen anything in my life, that doesn’t really narrow it down.” Ominis retorted, rolling his eyes.

“I..I just meant something normal people can’t see.” Edith stuttered in embarrassment. She quickly moved onto the next case of items. He couldn’t help the small smirk from forming on his face. It was amusing to him how she reacted when she was embarrassed. 

It was another long moment of just searching before Edith let out a small noise of surprise. He walked over to find what she had been looking at. His wand only picked up a small dagger in a glass case with strange designs on it. It had an incredibly thick handle, far too wide for any normal human’s hand.

“That one.” Edith pointed to it before turning to hail the shop clerk over.

“How can I help?” The male clerk questioned as he approached.

“Can you please remove that dagger there?” Edith requested kindly.

“Ah, the goblin silver dagger. Got this one myself.” He bragged as he unlocked the container and collected the dagger. A goblin dagger?! What could she possibly want with that? Why would that even be at a place such as this?

“I do find myself collecting many things created by those goblins recently.” Edith blissfully sighed, as if collecting was a pleasant hobby of hers. Ominis thought back to her younger years and realized that wasn’t too far fetched. She had quite the hoarding problem with all the random clothing she’d find, and sell. Then there were the potion ingredients she gathered every time they were out.

“This dagger was property to one of those magic crazed goblins that attacked Hogwarts.” The clerk bragged, as if trying to up-sell the item even more.

“Really?! I thought I could feel its magic.” Edith gasped in shock. That dagger belonged to one of those goblins? Did it really? He was positive the store clerk was just trying to rip money from Edith. There was no way it could possibly be; the ministry had gathered most of the weapons imbued with magic from the goblins the years following. They moved at a snail’s pace when it came to the issue with the magic crazed goblins led by Ranrok, but eventually they confiscated all the goblin silver directly involved with those goblins, stating it was too dangerous to leave them be. Having even a dagger from those goblins was incredibly unlikely.

“A keen eye you have there, young lady. Shall I wrap it for you?” The clerk offered.

“Oh please do.” Edith nodded as she retrieved the coins from her purse. As she began to discuss price with the clerk, Ominis felt his body start to ache uncomfortably, as if he needed a good stretch to release some cramps. Immediately Ominis realized the polyjuice was slowly starting to wear off. He cursed internally. Edith must have overcalculated how much time was left.

“Ah, Darling. We need to leave now.” Ominis suggested kindly, stepping closer to her. He noticed how Edith, immedately frozen in place, while her heart skipped momentarily, at the word Darling. She made a slight motion of turning towards him. He heard her small gasp before she turned back to the clerk.

“Right. Right Of course! Here you go sir.” Edith quickly handed the clerk coins and grabbed the dagger. 

“Have a lovely one!” She beamed the quickly pulled Ominis by the wrist towards the door. For one so small, she was able to hurriedly pull him along. She wasn’t full running, that’d draw too much attention, but she was walking at a brisk pace. She made quick work to get them out of Knockturn Alley, though she did not apparate out. He could feel the goosebumps of unwanted eyes return in full force. He tried to focus on any hurried steps following behind, only to find he heard a couple.

She didn’t slow her pace until they were well outside the Leaky Cauldron. By then, Ominis could feel how tight his clothes had become. His movements were very restricted, and his shoes were slightly crushing his toes.

“Sorry. I thought you had more time.” Edith apologized as they walked, turning around every so often. Ominis could hear the footsteps following behind quietly but were still a distance away.

“Perhaps we can lure them out somewhere more secluded.” Ominis thought aloud. If they could give them a clue to Anne, perhaps it was time they confronted them away from muggle eyes.

“There are a few secluded alleys around here.” Edith was unsure if that would work. The alleys here could be very tight spaces.

“It’s worth a shot.” Ominis frowned; this wasn’t a very well thought out plan, but they needed to confront these stalkers. Ominis mentally prepared himself for what would most likely be a confrontation against whoever was following.

“Follow me.” Edith whispered as she pulled him into a large alley. It was barely enough room for a fight, but not enough for too much movement. She continued to pull him down the alley when footsteps could be heard in front of them. They both came to halt as the sounds of shoes hitting wet pavement echoed throughout.

“Shit.” Edith cursed, starting to step back, but more footsteps could be heard from behind. Ominis wasn’t sure how the two before them were able to cut them off, but it appeared they had them right where they wanted.

Ominis’s wand wasn’t able to pull much details from the figures, but the two infront were clearly the ones in charge with the way they carried themselves. The much large one stood at full height looking down on Edith a few meters away.

“Can I help you?” She questioned with a tone so cold and irritated he almost feared for the one speaking to them. It slightly reminded him of all the times she spoke to him and Sebastian as the masked wizard. Her tone was always bitter and threatening, but never like this. When she had encountered them, she had this taunting air about her, like the Masked Wizard never took the both of them seriously. Here, that taunting aura was nowhere to be felt, and all that was there was a dangerously calm wizard. It was absolutely terrifying.

“Easy, little lady. We mean you no harm.” The larger man stepped forth with a condescending tone. With one step forward, Edith stepped back, putting herself between Ominis and the man. Ominis turned to point his wand back to the entrance of the alley. Two smaller silhouettes blocking the path.

"I dread the thought of how you treat those you do mean to harm."

“All we need is for you to come along with us, Ms. Winterald.” The man chuckled, causing Edith to go deathly still. He knew her real name, which Ominis could only assume was something she didn’t give out regularly. As far as most of the wizardly world was aware, Edith Winterald, child hero of Hogwarts was murdered by the Masked Wizard. Only a few were aware of the truth of that matter.

“Why would I ever follow someone like you?” Edith sneered, causing the two behind to step closer towards them. So it seemed a fight was on their hands.

“A friend of yours is dying to meet you.” He chuckled sinisterly. 

Anne.

“Right. Guess I’ll be paying them a visit then won’t I?” Edith laughed. The way she spoke didn’t sound right. She sounded as if she had gone mad for a moment.

Before Ominis could say anything, Edith casted dipulso on the two in front, blasting them backwards. The two infront, immediately went on the attack throwing a few basic casts towards him. He was easily able to block the on coming attacks. Edith focused her own attacks mostly on the two in front of her.

Ominis heard the telltale signs someone in front of him was casting the blasting curse. He quickly ready himself to move out of the way, when he realized it would hit Edith.

“Edith move!” Ominis warned as he lunged out of the way. As he moved, he quickly casted expelliarmus to one who had just hurled the fire bolt towards them. While his opponent's wand was knocked out of his hands, Ominis felt Edith get knocked back past him.

“Edith!’

“I’m fine!” She called out immediately, rolling out of the way of the oncoming attack from behind. Ominis turned to face the direction of the one in charge, having switched position with Edith. She now faced the two behind, while he was challenging the two in charge. The man wasn’t standing nearly as tall as he was before, a little more tired out now. Seemed Edith really knew how to wear out her opponent in a short amount of time.

Ominis quickly interrupted the large man’s charging lightning spell, forcing the spell to rebound on the two of them. He could feel Edith against his back, attacking the two behind. From the sounds of it, they weren’t fairing well.

He heard one of the men from behind cast Petrificus totalus, while one of the men in front of him casted confringo. As if reading each other’s mind, Edith quickly rolled out of the way, the same time Ominis had as well. The paralyzing spell ended up hitting the smaller of the two men in charge, while the blasting curse landed on the caster, knocking the two at the enterance, down from the explosion.

Edith quickly turned to the last one remaining, the one responsible.

“Should have just compiled, little girl.” The man spat towards them. He began to prepare his next attack when Edith quickly interrupted it.

“And you should’ve stayed down! Curcio!” She called out the unforgivable name. Even Ominis could see the bright neon green spell zip past towards the man before him. The dark magic immediately flooded his senses, catching him off guard. He felt his body grow cold at the sounds of the man screaming out in pain from the curse. She still used the unforgivables. He was aware of this, and yet he felt something inside him twist as the agonizing screams rang in his ears. He could barely focus on the world around, hardly hearing anything aside from the man’s pain.

Memories from a time long since passed came flooding to the surface. A pain of his own, much more muted but still ever present, came forth, shooting throughout his entire body. He could feel the sweat form on his forehead and neck. The man’s screams were no longer the screams of a grown man but a small boy. A small boy letting out a blood curdling cry from the punishment inflicted on him for not performing that very same spell. He truly thought he had overcome this; he had worked hard to make sure he was past his trauma, but every so often, the memories came flooding forward, distracting him when he needed to be focused.

“Ominis!” Edith screamed, sounding so far away. Her voice was riddled with terror; Her scared voice slowly brought him back to the current situation at hand. But it wasn’t fast enough.

“Ominis look out!” Edith’s hysterical voice broke through the haze he was currently trapped in. He abruptly felt her elbow shove him to the ground, her back brushing against his briefly before he heard it. The sound of magic slashing through flesh along with her cry out in agony.

The alley sound filled with the bitter iron smell of blood instantly, Edith’s blood. Ominis could make out, much to his horror, Edith’s figure slump to her knees clutching her right shoulder with her left hand.

It seemed one of the men at the entrance had recovered enough to continue their futile fight. Having cast the Diffindo spell while their backs were turned.

“Edith!” Ominis cried out, reaching for her. He felt warm wet blood instantly coat the palm of his hands. She was bleeding a lot, too much.

“Snap out of it Ominis! I need you!” Edith growled as she immediately stood, not steady on her feet in the slightest, and threw the blasting curse at the enemy who just threw the slicing spell. He could feel the heat from the intensity she threw that spell. Suffice to say the man was not getting back up anytime soon after. He quickly rose, turning his focus to the man in charge, the other finally freed from the paralzying curse. Ominis desperately tried to ignore Edith’s winces after every spell she threw. The smell of blood was growing more intense as the battle continued; the sounds of liquid dropping everywhere rang in his ears. They needed to finish this quickly.

Ominis quickly casted leviosa on the smaller of the two only to immediately slam him to the ground after, knocking the man out from the force of the impact. Just as Ominis did that, an energy crackled from Edith. It was powerful, and unnerving. It sent chills down his spine as it radiated from her. It wasn’t like dark magic, but it wasn’t any normal magic either. She raised her good arm high up, lifting the man’s silhouette into the air before slamming him down, and then back up only to forcibly bring him down once more. She repeated this multiple times. The magic around her pulsed with a violent energy unlike any other; he was defeated before she had even finished the attack. It was unbelievably brutal. Ominis wondered if the man was even breathing after that.

As the silence of the aftermath filtered through the alley, Ominis watched as Edith stumbled forward, losing her footing immediately.

“Edith!” he ran over, immediately catching her before she could faceplant on the hard ground. He could feel the wet touch of her blood begin to soak through his clothes on his chest. If anyone spotted them right now, it would definitely be bad. There would be no way to explain the situation.

“We need to get out of here!” Ominis moved his wand to apparate, but Edith quickly stopped him. She reached for his wand with  gestures. Barely conscious she mumbled out something sounding out of breath.

“What?” She kept trying to shove him off of her but barely had any strength to her. He barely felt anything from her push.

“Edith, please.”

“We...need...information...” She whispered, her brows furrowed. Ominis quickly turned with her in his arms to try and find something they could take. All he was able to find was an envelope with some papers inside. He hurriedly opened the letters, hoping it would give him something. He barely read the letter but did find some instructions on where they were to take Edith when she was captured. He quickly stuffed the papers in his pocket, knowing this was enough for now.

“Got something. Let's go.” Ominis alerted as he quickly scooped up her legs so Edith was secured against his chest. With a wave his wand, he focused in on Edith’s home and quickly apperated there.

The sight of her house was a blessed thing, but he feared teleportation might have been too much for her given her current state. Ominis could barely hear her breath. Her heart was even beginning to slow.

“Edith, I need you to say something.” Ominis rushed to the door, keeping her secured. The less her neighbors saw the better. The sun was beginning to set so Ominis hoped they were busy with whatever it was they did at this time inside.

“I….’m…sorry…Omi,” She breathed out softly. He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped as he opened the door forcibly. It had been years since he heard his nickname come from her lips. It still sounded as delightful as it did back then, though the near death breathlessness was not a pleasant addition.

Making sure to close the door behind him with his foot, he moved with haste towards the stairs. Thankfully, he heard Sebastian’s footsteps fast approaching from upstairs.

“Whatever for?” he answered, attempting to keep her talking. He lowered himself to the ground, to free his hand from under her legs to check her pulse. It wasn’t steady nor beating at a normal pace. It was much slower than it should have been.

“I…shou…ldn’t have…used..” Edith's voice started to fall off, which was way more worrisome.

“Edith, stay with me!” He begged, attempting to shake her back into consciousness. His cries were only met with silence.

“Edith!”

~ ♡ ~

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MY LONGEST CHAPTER YET! WOOOO!! I had fun with this one but also felt ilthere wasn't enough, so i increased the battle and stuff they did, with good reason. I hope you guys enjoyed this. Im tryna give it that dark academia/(sherlock esc) mystery feel, but i think i still need practice! Oh well!!

Have a wonderful day, and thank you for reading. Loves ya!!! ♡♡♡