#and you'll hope that your son turns out to be an even better person

[angelsdean]

Jack: Yeah, he-he wasn't all bad, my dad. Uh, that's what makes our parents loom so large in our heads, I think. They're… a million things to us all at once.

And even after they're long gone, we're stuck with them. Can't help it. They're inside of us. You know, my whole life, I promised myself I'd be nothing like him, but…I ended up just like him.

Kevin: No, Dad. You're way better than him.

Jack: Thank you, my son. And you're gonna be way better than me.

— 5x07, This Is Us

#this is us watch #gonna rb this in a sec to say exactly this but. scenes that could've been dean and jack. scenes that ARE dean and jack. 2 me. #the father son relationships on this show are soo good and rich and they GET the complexity of the dynamic between fathers and sons #and it's the exact same complexity dean has for john. that ability to hold both love and hate for a parent #and neither feeling cancels the other out. they both just. co-exist #and that's what jack (this is us) is getting at here. that your parents can be a million things to you all at once #that you can love them for the good times and hate them for the bad and you'll carry them with you forever #you imagine them to be one way all your life then you grow up and realize oh. they were just a flawed person like anyone else. #or you become a parent and you worry you're becoming like them. and at the same time u realize how hard it is to be a parent #how easy it is to mess up without even trying #and you'll talk to your son about it. and you'll fear you're doing everything wrong #and your son will look at you and say 'no dad. you're way better than him' #and you'll hope that your son turns out to be an even better person #because you just want the best for your kids. #and just. this is a scene dean and jack could've had. another time they go fishing and john comes up #and dean tells him how bad it was sometimes. but how it wasn't all bad. because it wasn't. #and he'll worry he isn't doing things right with jack. and jack will look at him like he's his hero #because he is. because jack loves dean so much. loves the quality time they spend together. it's their love language #and he'll tell him 'no you're way better than your dad' #and dean will do the ol' face pat. like he's done before. like bobby used to do with him. and draw him in for a hug #anyways. i feel fine abt it. #fathers and sons !!!!!!!!!!!!

[ryomens-vixen]

90s Boyfriend Toji

CW: Toji is a warning all on it's on, daddy kink, 90s Toji, mentions of drvg selling, smut, slight aftercare if you squint, hitting, etc.

Word count: 🤷🏾‍♀️ I don't know babes...

Good luck 🤞

Author note: thank you @blkkizzat for the nickname I really didn't know what to call him without being cringe af, I've never wrote for Toji so I hope this is kinda good I'm not too confident in this.

90sBF Toji who loves his son so much that he bought both of them matching gold chains, you could say they're almost like twins in a way, wherever Toji goes you'll definitely see megumi following behind him like the daddy's boy that he is. 

90sBF Toji who listens to artists like Notorious B I G, Tupac, DMX, Ice Cube, Ol Dirty Bastard, Nas, Sir Mix A-lot, and Snoop Dogg. 

90sBF Toji who's street name is “T-Raw” (thanks kali.) Almost all the ladies around his hood know him by that, even those he distributes Kush to, he just got it like that. 

90sBF Toji who'll only kick it with you if his son likes you, he's the most important person in his life. If megumi doesn't like you then it's a wrap. 

90sBF Toji who sells Kush for a living along with another side hustle of his… aka slanging dick, yes this whore of a man sells dick as well. 

90sBF Toji who usually picks up single moms around the corner store from his place. 

90sBF Toji who only lets the ladies that Megumi picks come over the house. 

90sBF Toji who won't settle down with anyone unless his son Megumi likes you which doesn't normally last long. Once you do something Megumi doesn't like you better hope you can fix it before he tells Toji. 

90sBF Toji who constantly makes Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto babysit poor Megumi every time he's hauled off to jail. 

90sBF Toji who is almost always cellmates with his homeboys Shiu and Ryomen who of course nags him about whether or not he wants to see his son

90sBF Toji who's surprised by Megumi suddenly took a liking to you one day. Maybe he had mistaken you for another girl Toji use to fuck on or maybe he just thought “Woah pretty lady” and claimed you to be his new mom, but whatever his son wants, his son gets and Toji ain't arguing with that at all. 

90sBF Toji who started making you, a college student babysit little Megumi who continues to call you “mama” and you have no clue as the whether it's because Toji calls you mamas or if he genuinely thinks you're his mother, either way he's cute with an annoyingly fine ass father. 

90sBF Toji who's more into fuckin than he is romancing, but is willing to put forth the effort to keep you around more. 

90sBF Toji who leaves all his women begging for more, surprisingly he hasn't gotten anyone pregnant by now. 

90sBF Toji who constantly has to reassure you that you're the only one he's laying pipe on, he hates that you have to deal with the Plethora of heart broken obsessed women he's left behind.

 90sBF Toji who fucks you like he like he's trying to get you pregnant. “Fuck- that's some good pussy, Hah- Ngh—” 

“Fu— T.. To..ji! too much, too much!”

The more you begged him to slow down even just a little bit, the more he made it apparent that he wanted his dick in your stomach. God it felt like he was trying to break you- fucking you into the mattress. One hand on the back of your neck, the other on your frontal a fist FULL of hair mind you. It was intense. He wanted yet another orgasm out of you to cream and squirt all over him again, you needed this dick and he was going to give it to you all damn night if he had too. 

Oh did your moans and screams turn him on even more than that ‘O’ face you were making. No wonder everyone called him “T-Raw”. “Shut the fuck up, you've been teasing me with that phat pussy all damn day- Fuuughck—”  Toji said in an annoyed tone as he cocks a hand back and smacks a handprint onto your ass. 

“m'sorry daddy!”

“Nah.. Don't cry now, take this dick, take it mamas.”

Oh boy did he take you down through there, eyes in the back of your head, tongue hanging, tears forming at the corners of those pretty (e/c) eyes. What was this your fifth? Sixth Orgasm? How experienced was this man, this is what you get for fuckin with a grown man like him. There he was beating your back in, creamy white ring formed at the base of his cock from both your pussy juices and his cum fusing together, blunt in mouth. Where'd he get the blunt from? Don't know, but man was his dick good no wonder he had so many women flocking after him. The way he makes you feel it in your stomach was no joke he really knew how to fuck you right. 

90sBF Toji who didn't really fuck with college girl had you wrapped around his fingers… I mean his dick. It didn't matter where or when he wanted that pussy before your classes, after your classes, in your dorm room, his car, it didn't matter to him because he was a nasty old man. 

90sBF Toji who had you chasing behind him wondering where he was taking that dick, YOUR dick, was he gonna start slanging dick again? You didn't know but you felt just like those older women he'd Freak then leave.

90sBF Toji who'd reassure you that he wasn't fuckin anyone else by making sweet love to you. He doesn't need you acting crazy on him. I mean who else is going to watch Megumi besides Satoru and Suguru? 

90sBF Toji who gets a little annoyed when you show up blowing up on him about another woman flocking him again, he gets so annoyed that has to shut you up with cock in that tight throat of yours.

“Now tell me who the fuck do you think you're talkin to again!?” 

“Mmmf- Sowry—” 

“Can't talk with all that dick in your mouth can you, heh…” 

You did your best trying to take it all, but couldn't make it to the base of his cock without gagging and coughing. But that was nothing he couldn't fix, with a smirk on Toji's face he held your head down on his thigh and began to fuck himself into your throat. God did this nasty bitch enjoy hearing your ‘gluck gluck gluck’ sounds coming from you. This slutty man let out a deep bellowing groan at the sensation he was feeling in his groin. It was a tight, and warm feeling making his pace grow sloppier by the minute.

“Nasty ass bitch look at you , mouth full of dick fuuughck Im gonna— gonna c.. Cum-” 

Patting on his leg trying to signal him to slow down so you could breathe, if your face could visibly turn blue it would he was not letting up as he chased his own high. One strong thrust he came deep into your throat, god if he could put all that good dick in your kidneys he would. 

90sBF Toji who isn't too big on aftercare, but since he's down bad for you, then he might just indulge in it, just for you, only for you. 

90sBF Toji who after a good pounding throws a towel onto your body and praises you for taking him so well.

“Fuck, you take dick like a good lil bitch don't yah? What cat got yah tongue?”

“ since Megumi ain't trippin bout yah I guess you'll do for now .”

“How about you get cleaned up, come watch a movie with me.”

90sBF Toji who truly can't believe you're to put up with all his bullshit, even his homeboys think something's wrong with you.

90sBF Toji who hates bringing you over to Satoru and Suguru's place for boys night because it always end in a fight everytime Satoru thinks it's be funny to flirt with you.

90sBF Toji who hates that you have to remind him that you don't want him to end up in jail everytime they fight.

90sBF Toji who starts to grow a lil bit of a soft spot for you, so much that he starts to show you off to his old hoes.

90sBF Toji who randomly shows up to your college class to drop off YOUR son Megumi when Satoru and Suguru cancel on him, leaving all your homegirls to think you're a mother now.

Tags: @blkkizzat @littlemochabunni @honeeslust @gojos-thot-patrol-main @oreo-creampie @screampied(I was told to tag you) @halosdiary @connorsui (I was told to tag you) @biscuitsngravie

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

[bakugoushotwife]

a/n: some of my self-ship ramblings while i'm supposed to be writing gojo kinktober skfjskhdkgdf--this will be the family set up for a series of mine ;)

everyone says girl dad gojo this boy dad gojo that, when in reality it's gojo and his son + his two little sisters.

oh gojo just fusses all over his firstborn son when he arrives, all glossy eyed with pride as he boasts about the gojo line—and his son being the strongest yet! (though he'd rather die than let his son face the same perils he did-)

your husband turns into such a doting father with his little sidekick, teaching him how to gush over mama, but how to pick daddy's side. oh his son is just his best friend! a little carbon copy of him down to the dimples. he takes him everywhere once he's about five, letting your son traverse the school with him if for no other reason than to boast over his spawn. he's such a little gentleman thanks to tips from daddy, picking fistfuls of dirt and dandelion to plop on the table while you're making dinner—eyes of blue you know all too well grinning up at you, a smile that's missing a tooth or two. "got you flowers mama!" he brags, stepping up on his helper's stool to get a look at what you're doing—stage one clinger and nosy freak like his dad. you giggle at the mess and nod, patting his hair and thanking him with kisses.

"what about my kisses?" your husband smirks, revealing a proper bouquet from behind his back as he peeks over your opposite shoulder. your giggles intensify as you give him the same treatment, letting satoru finish up the food so you could put your bouquet and your dandelions away in a vase.

"i wanna help you daddy!" the high pitched determination from your son has your heart melting, and satoru doesn't think he could get any happier.

that is until his first daughter is born. his son changed his life, but the little girl in his arms now has him sobbing as she bats white lashes up at him—he knows he'll never be the same person, now forever occupied with her safety and happiness, raising her to be a good person, a sweet and kind person like you. her big brother is just as invested, eager to help his tired parents and hardly complaining about the baby's crying. he wants to be a big man like daddy, so he'll follow satoru into her nursery and help give her bottles while you sleep, though satoru (jokingly) wishes he was old enough to change a diaper—you've created some dynamic shitters, not that your son was any better.

but oh how his daughter was his sunshine. such a delicate and powerful little thing too, he didn't even know how to treat her at first. with his son it was easy, he was unafraid. but with his daughter, he knows he'll be the example in her life and he's terrified to mess it up. but he gets the hang of it—and she absolutely adores her father.

maybe one of these days you'll get one that prefers you, though your son is quite the mommy's boy thanks to satoru's shining performance.

the girl though, all hopes of her being sweet and kind go out the window by the time she's four. she's a mouthy little thing, bossing around her big brother, who's definitely grown less charmed with being a big brother—only on the outside. he still adores his little sister, but he does roll his eyes when you tell him that you're pregnant with another girl.

the baby of the family, satoru bawls when he holds her yet again. she's just as strong and beautiful as his first two, but by far the biggest daddy's girl yet. she grows up under the protection of her older siblings—her big sister dresses her like her own personal babydoll and her big brother rescues her from such activities. she is sweet and lovely despite her siblings, and you think it's a miracle. that only lasts so long, though.

satoru spoils all of his kids, but his girls are so snotty by the time they reach puberty, no boys can even catch their attention. this was all to his design of course, he would not have his smart, strong, and talented girls bogged down by boy troubles, gag. as bratty as satoru was in high school, imagine two of them. as girls. yes.

the teenage sisters are closer than close—banding up against their annoying big brother when he comes by to poke at them, the once protector turned aggressor—though he would die for his sisters without a second thought.

don't even get me started on gojo's son. if the girls are bratty, satoru's carbon copy is entitled and smug, even more handsome than his dad thanks to your enhancements and the only next gen gojo man? he's intolerable by the time he graduates, and satoru is absolutely tickled about it—even asking for another baby as yours grow and prepare to leave the nest. he's a family man, and so so good with babies...you may just give into his wishes just to witness it some more. <3

#selfship coded #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo rambles #the queen's ruling #jjk x reader #gojo my beloved

[heelust]

୨୧ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐊𝐄 as your 𝐊𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ( and something more.. )

w: not proofread, one cursing word, nicknames (baby, darling) idk what else.. pairings : kindergarten teacher!heejayke x mom!fem reader genre : fluff, crack letters count : 7.0k

[ dollie's note ] : i made this for my moot bay!! @ikeuverse <3 i hope you enjoy this~

𑇛᧙ 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 :

you two would meet at the one of the parents meeting. i don't think he would be confident enough to strike a conversation with you so he spends most of the time looking at your way when he is talking and making eye contact with you.

he would muster up the courage to talk to you one afternoon when you went to pick up your son, he was the last one in there since you left your work a little bit late but heeseung stayed with him.

the first thing he would say it's his name like if you didn't know it already LMAO you'll find it cute though.

you and your son have this dynamic to talk about your days on your way home so he tells you about his teacher lee heeseung and how cool he is and your heart melts when your kid tells you that you two should be friends

days pass with heeseung greeting you when you drop off s/n (son name) at the kindergarten but you don't pay too much mind to it until one day he asks you about your son's dad and you tell him that you both broke up when s/n was 1 year old and decided to coparenting but he didn't really care about the child and he was not present in yours and your son's life anymore.

heeseung thinks that your ex partner was a coward for leaving you and your son, he knows being a single mom is difficult and even more when you have to work and take care of your child at the same time so he offers to drop off s/n at your house so you wouldn't be picking him up late or hurrying up at work to pick him up at time. you're a bit hesitant at first but when you see how much you son enjoys being with heeseung and how much fun he has, you let him help you.

it became a routine in little not time. you and heeseung get to know each other better and grow more comfortable with each other.

heeseung was so sweet and caring that it didn't surprise you when one day he decided to ask you on a date. after THAT one date you went on more dates and finally he asked you out and you accepted.

seeing heeseung and your kid spend time together made your heart swell with happiness, they just looked so cute. heeseung was definitely the missing piece of your loving family.

“do you think he really likes me?” “he does loves you, heeseung”

𑇛᧙ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 :

you and jongseong met at the park on your weekly “mom-daughter” day with d/n (daughter's name).

you were just sitting on a bench looking at your daughter play with some kids but you just happened to get a call from your mom to ask you about something and boom! when you looked up again, your kid wasn't there.

you panicked and started to look for her everywhere until you saw her in front of a ice cream cart AND HOLDING HANDS WITH A GUY. that's when you really panicked and called her name

them both turned around and she ran to you with an ice cream in her hand and a big smile on her face “mommy, i made a new friend” she told you and then waved at the man that was standing a few meters away so you waved at him, too and he waved back with a smile

that's how that day concluded.

AND NOW a month later you're dropping off your baby at the kindergarten and and the first thing you see is the same man your daughter met at the park and you got a little bit nervous (i mean who wouldn't. it's park jongseong y'all duh) but you as a polite lady you are, greeted him and from outside he was like "oh i know you" but in the inside he was even more nervous than you bc you looked so so sooo pretty and he thought that maybe he saved so many lives in his past life and that's why the deities have gifted him with you.

jongseong made it his personal goal for this new kindergarten year to win your heart so he took extra care of you daughter. atp she was his favorite student and her other classmates were kinda jealous bc she got (almost) all the attention but in reality he loved all his students the same it's just that he wanted to make you look at his way.

buddy was DESPERATE so one day he asked your daughter to sweet talk about him to her mom (you) and she was sooo confused like "why would i do that" but at the end they made a deal in which she would get well done stickers if he got close to you.

you found it lovely how your daughter seemed to really like her teacher since she wasn't the kind to bond that easily with someone to the point that everything she talked about when you dropped her and picked her from school and so you decided to befriend with jongseong so to show her that you appreciate him, too

well, time went by and as it did, you and jay got really close and one day he decided to take you on a date and then more dates and then you both started dating and let's say your daughter gets her well done stickers more often now

“what's 8 plus 8?" " it's sixteen!" "you're right, d/n!"

𑇛᧙ 𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 :

well.. lets just say that your son is not really that good at maths and jake, as his dear maths teacher, was worried about your child not getting good grades

you, as the mom, were worried about the same thing as well, so one day you (AS ANY OTHER MOM WOULD!!!) asked jake if he could be s/n's tutor and you would pay him (obviously)

jake accepted not only because he was genuinely worried of your kid's grade but because he thought you looked pretty too (you're gorgeous!!)

okay so your kid has been taking tutoring sessions with jake and you could see his grades eventually get better!! to the point that you started thinking that jake maybe is a wizard because how the heck you're so smart, patient, kind AND good looking?? all that in one???

and just like that.. you started to see your son's teacher as something more than your son's teacher :(( like, who wouldn't??

you felt AND acted so awkward around him. your face reddening everytime he smiled sweetly at you, your stomach fluttering when you heard his voice or feeling extra giggly and childish when your son mentioned jake and something random he had told him earlier that day

FYI you were NOT the only one feeling that way. there was this certain man called jake who just couldn't get you out of his mind and almost always (discreetly) asked about you to your very oblivious son

until one day in which jake woke up a little too confident and when the classes ended and you went to pick up your son he asked you to go out and eat something. my baby was super nervous and afraid that you'll reject his offer but when he heard you accepting bro ALMOST flew

what was an only date became a weekly thing between you, jake and (sometimes) your kid and you couldn't help but feel more and more helpless because its been MONTHS and jake hasnt asked you out yet

but one thing you need to know is that my bro jake really wants to ask you out but he doesn't clearly gets how he's supposed to approach you with the topic (he's shy)

so!! you got tired of it and asked him to date you instead :)) and that afternoon you both had free and you were making bcc in his backyard with your son playing with his dog on the grass was one of the best days you could every have had in your life

"jake is your stepdad now, darling" "but he was my teacher yesterday!" "he's still your teacher, too darling"

2024 seoniwoo.

do not plagiarize this work or any of my works.

taglist : none ( send ask to be added)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung #enhypen soft hours #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hyung line #enhablr #enhypen smau #enha imagines #enhypen moodboard #heeseung imagines #jongseong imagines #enhypen jaeyun #jaeyun moodboard #jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen x oc #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #❜୧ dollie's works

[yusume-the-writer]

Then please may I request Rayne x reader where she fainted cause of being sick and overwork but didn’t say anything and kept going?

Know when to rest and work!!

Request made by Anon, hope you like it

I'm sorry for the delay

Warning: Quote about not eating and sleeping properly (children don't do that)

Genre: Comfort and Fluff

 Rayne Ames x Gender Neutral Reader

 Summary: (Name) was busy with work and other activities that took a toll on his health, so it wasn't a surprise that they passed out, but don't worry your amazing boyfriend Rayne is to the rescue!!!!

'How did you get to this state?' (Name) think to herself while looking at her reflection in the mirror

 The reflection showed a person with disheveled (h/c) hair and large dark circles under their eyes.

 'It looks like you didn't even sleep last night...' (Name) thinks while still staring at her reflection until she realizes something, 'Wait... I didn't really sleep last night' (Name) lowers her head and faces the sink, as if something much better than her current appearance, which really was

 How long has it been since (Name) had a proper sleep and meal? A week or two, maybe it was more, but (Name)'s pride was greater to take that on

 The main reason that (Name) was not getting adequate sleep and meals was that they were extremely busy with schoolwork and activities

 'Just put water on your face and everything will be fine' (Name) thinks while turning on the tap in the sink and takes a handful and throws it on his face

 And of course (Name) could talk about it to his beloved Rayne, but... they didn't want to burden him with things they could do themselves.

 Rayne was a man busy with his role as Divine Visionary and all that.

'And just one more day, and then you'll finally get your beauty sleep! You can do it (Name)!' They think as they leave their room ready for another day of school, and go to the library to continue researching the work the teacher asked for.

 After all, today was an important day, a work on certain types of magic and how they could be related to a specific God, just put the finishing touches on it and it will be incredible.

 "(Name)?" A male voice interrupts (Name)'s thoughts

 When they realized that the voice was in front of them, (Name) faced the owner of the voice

 Clear eyes stare at (e/c)

 It was Rayne Ames, or rather (Name)'s boyfriend

 "Ah, Ray! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the cafeteria?" (Name) says while still looking into her boyfriend's beautiful eyes

 Rayne then stares at (Name) as if they had offended the rabbits "I was going there but why aren't you in the cafeteria" He continues as he crosses his arms and stares at (Name)

 "Ah! I-and I was going to the library to look for a book, then I was going to the cafeteria" (Name) says, it's true that they were going to the library looking for a specific book, but they wouldn't leave the library until were the classes

 "You'd better go to the cafeteria and then the library" Rayne says while still staring at (Name), he looked like a father who just found his son returning from a party he told him not to go to

"Ah... I'm kind of scared of forgetting to get the book, so I thought I'd go to the library first" (Name) says. They didn't want to stop talking to Rayne, but they didn't want to worry him

"I'm really sorry, Rayne, but I really need to get this book before it's too late" (Name) continues while staring at Rayne with her best puppy dog eyes

 "I'm going with you, so let's go to the cafeteria together" Rayne says as she turns towards the library path holding out her hand for (Name) to take

 "Okay~" (Name) says while holding Rayne's hand and the two walk together

.

.

.

(Name) never thought she'd be grateful that Rayne was so busy

 (Name) managed to get the book and when they and Rayne went to the cafeteria together, they called Rayne for a deal about the magical items

 Rayne looked disappointed, but with (Name)'s insistence, he went to help

 Now (Name) was sitting in the classroom of his first class, as he finished the final preparations for his presentation

 'It has to be perfect!!! Nothing can go wrong!!!' (Name) think as she closes the reference book and sees her colleagues entering

 'I didn't eat breakfast, but that's okay, at lunch I increase my portion' They think when they realize they ate nothing but water and a granola bar yesterday

 The teacher enters the room and goes to her place and starts taking roll.

"As we know, today we still have presentations, and now it's Mr (Name)'s turn to introduce himself." As soon as the teacher finishes explaining, she waves towards (Name) for them to start

 (Name) with the help of her magic pick up the items from her presentation and will start walking to go ahead

 'Now it's all or nothing' (Name) says as they close their eyes and smile

 But the moment they open their eyes... they find themselves faced with a ceiling that wasn't their classroom.

 They were in the infirmary

 "...What?..." (Name) says while trying to process why she's staring at the infirmary ceiling

 "You're finally awake!" Suddenly clear eyes that showed concern stared at (Name), they had already seen these eyes before

 It was Rayne Ames, or rather (Name)'s boyfriend

 "Rayne? What are you doing here?" (Name) says as they start to try to get up, but are stopped by Rayne, who puts her hands on his shoulders and gently pushes him to the bed, which makes them look at him with confusion.

Knowing that (Name) was going to ask, Rayne says, "You should rest as much as you can; you fainted while going to the front to give a work presentation"

 "Ah, that's what happened" (Name) says as he starts to think about the trouble they went through when they fainted in front of their classmates and teacher

 "...Why didn't you tell me you were overwhelmed?" Rayne says out of nowhere with a tone of voice that showed concerns

 And of course he would be worried, he was notified that his beloved had fainted as soon as they separated.

 "I kind of didn't want to worry you about something silly, you're so busy you don't even have time to rest, I thought it would be better for me to take care of it myself" (Name) says as he starts to sit on the bed, Rayne didn't interrupt him this time

 As soon as (Name) sits up completely on the bed and faces Rayne

 Then they touch Rayne's head and start playing with his hair "But I messed up, I'm sorry for worrying you" (Name) says while sending a guilty smile

 Rayne stares at (Name) as they continue to play with their hair

 Then Rayne closes her eyes as they feel the sensation of their fingers brushing her hair

 "It's okay... but next time tell me and take care of your health"

 "OK!"

 "I'll bring you lunch," Rayne says as she gently takes (Name)'s hand away and holds it in hers.

 Suddenly he brings his hand to your lips and kisses your wrist

 "Okay, I'm going" As soon as he breaks the kiss he gets up and heads towards the infirmary door

 Rayne was probably ignoring that it made (Name) a blushing mess that could compete with her little brother's friend's hair color.

 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔

 "Here" Rayne hands (Name) a lunch box with rabbit details around it

"You didn't need to make food for me." Even though (Name) denied it, they still took the lunch box and opened his lunch box

 As soon as they picked it up, Rayne took out a similar lunch box

 "The teacher saw your work and said you got full marks" Rayne says as she opens the lid of her lunch box and starts eating.

 "I'm glad my sweat and tears weren't wasted on this work" (Name) says as she takes a piece of her food and puts it in her mouth

After that little conversation, comfortable silence filled around the two of them in the infirmary.

#mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mashle x reader #mashle x you #oneshot #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #mashle x gn reader #mashle magic and muscle x gn reader #gn reader #rayne ames x you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 45

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"How was it, dearie?" Dottie asks as you get in.

You keep your cool. Something about that house dampens your spirits. You look her in the eye grimly and shrug.

"Luna baby missed ya," she chimes, "first time away from ya and all."

"Oh?" You tweak a brow apathetically, "she hungry?"

She sighs, "you're her mama."

You narrow your eyes. She can probably read your thoughts across your face. Yeah, and what about her father?

"I pumped all that milk before I went. I can't feed her now, I had some mimosas," you turn your palms out, "you'll have to start the formula."

"Nothing wrong with that. I sent you out to have fun," she gives a clamped smile, "I got enough for the youngin. She's still nappin'."

"Great," you mutter, "I'm gonna lay down."

"I'll bring her up to ya before I tuck in," Dottie offers.

"Sure," you turn away and drag your feet to the stairs.

Your escape was all too brief. The afterglow fades quickly as you climb up to the second floor. The giddiness of making out with Andy in his backseat dissipates as you're drowned in the gloom of that house.

You go into the guestroom where you've made your nest and undress. You lay under the blankets, in silence, without a light. For once you just want to know where you stand with a man and with Andy it's clear. You both just need to forget about all the shit in your life.

Just two more weeks. You won't have your body back, you don't think you ever will, but you will be able to enjoy it. You didn't realise how much you'd miss intimacy until it wasn't there. Not him, never him, just the feeling of another person against you.

🍑

You sit on the bench and tie your sneaker. You don't feel great. Your hips hurt, your back hurts, and you're tired as hell. Still, you don't want to stay in that house.

You stand up and check the stroller again. The baby's secure and staring at nothing with her glassy eyes. You don't get it. She just lays there, then shrieks, then dribbles down milk and sleeps again.

"Oh, sweetie, you off somewhere?" Dottie comes out from the kitchen.

"Just a walk. Been long enough I can move a bit better," you say casually.

"And you're taking the sweet one with you?"

You hear the hopefulness in her voice. She wants you to love the baby. She wants to believe that child is the one redeeming quality she can claim for her son.

"Yeah, might as well," you say as you turn and grab the stroller, turning it to angle after you as you approach the door.

"You want me to come with y'all?" She asks.

You swallow. Don't show your hand.

"If you want," you say dully.

"Ah, don't let me get in your way," she thinks better of it. "I'll be here."

"Won't be long," you say as you get the door open and back out, carefully pulling out the stroller with you, keeping it even as you roll over the edge of each step.

"It's getting chilly out, you got enough blankets?" She calls after you.

"All good," you assure her.

She watches you go, waving from the porch as you twist the stroller around. You keep an even pace as you head through the gate. You don't want her to see your eagerness. You wait until you're beyond the property to pull out your phone. You rest it on the handle and read the last message from Andy. He's coming.

You don't go very fast. You still feel very much unready. You look down at the baby as she rests her fist against her cheek. Something about her nose reminds you of him...

You shake your head. Don't. You don't want to give him that power. He threw all that out when he disappeared.

As you get to the corner, Andy appears. He wears a dark blue hoodie over a grey tee. He approaches with a smile and peers inside the stroller brightly. He leans in to coo at the baby.

"She's getting big."

"I guess," you utter.

"We're Dot?" He looks down the sidewalk.

You frown. Shit. Did you misinterpret?

"I left her behind. Why--"

"Making sure," he winks and leans in to give you a kiss, surprising you. He hooks his arm around you, holding you to him as he deepens the gesture. You push on his chest until he finally relents.

"Andy," you gasp.

"What? I can't help myself. You look... good," he grins.

"Don't lie," you roll your eyes.

He chuckles, "something about your cynicism is really sexy."

"Okay, now you're being a jerk."

He tilts his head and turns to stand beside you. You fall back into step as you give a cautious glance up and down the street. Who would even care? Lloyd isn't around and even if he was, he didn't chat up the neighbourhood.

You head down towards the park. As you get to the bench, you grab Andy and sit at the outskirts of the grass. You brace your lower back and grunt as he holds onto the stroller and kicks down he brakes.

"You okay?"

"Bad back," you hiss as you lean against the metal backing, "been like this for years."

"Old football injury?" He kids.

"You're funny," you sniff.

"I try," he rolls the stroller back and forth, soothing the baby. "So..."

"So..." you look off towards the playground where parents watch their children scream and run around.

"When do you think you could... sneak out?" He asks, fingers tapping above his knee.

"Um," you can't help a smile, cheeks hot, "when do you--" you stop yourself, "you know I can't... do much for at least another week and a half," you keep your voice low.

"Of course, I wasn't-- I hope you don't think--"

"I know, Andy," you bite your lip and look away, "let's not complicate this. Because it's already fucked up so let's just enjoy it while we can."

He nods and lowers his lashes, "yeah, I can do that. How about... I give you a massage tonight? Promise not to get handsy. Purely practical. Get those muscles loosened up."

You scoff, "I might be able to figure something out."

"I could always come to you," he suggests, leaning in to push his shoulder into you.

"We'll see," you look at the baby. She's fast asleep. Yeah, this isn't going to be easy.

🍑

Andy says goodbye at the corner. You don't need Dottie catching on or making any suggestions. You know at heart where her loyalties lie.

You come up to the house and nearly trip on the wheels of the stroller. You recognise the car in the driveway. Right, good timing.

As you walk along the pavement, the front door opens and Suzanne appears with a glint in her eye, "there you are."

"Suzanne," you greet her breathless, "how are you–"

"So when was I going to find out the baby was here?"

"Um, I've been…tied up."

"Of course you have but Lloyd didn't even mention it," she beams over at the baby, "aw, thank god she doesn't take after him."

"Right, well, I guess he isn't much into sharing his private business–"

"A baby is kinda a big deal. I thought at least he'd take time off."

You stare at her. You try not to show your irritation, "well, you know, he's always been a workaholic."

"Not fucking really. He took one job and cut contact a week ago. It's why I'm here. Thought the fuckwit might be laying low."

"Nope, not here. Just us."

"And Mama Hansen. Yeah, I met her. Just as unbearable as her son," she tuts, "I'll make sure to send his ass home once I find him."

You nod. You don't know how to respond. You're not sure how to lie when your tongue won't work. She watches you and her forehead creases between her brows.

"Alright," she pokes her tongue into her lower lip and clicks, "when's the last time you saw him?"

You just look back at her blankly. Her eyes darken and she grits her teeth. She rests her hand on her hip, shifting her blouse to reveal the butt of a handgun.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this day," she smirks, "Lloyd Hansen, you're fucking dead."

She spins on her heel and storms towards her car. You push the stroller after her, "wait, Suz," you plead, "he's not worth it."

"Yeah," she opens the door, "but you are. You just take care of the pookie bear," she faces you again and makes a face at the stroller, "and I'll send his sorry ass home. Hopefully in one piece."

#unexpected #andy barber #andy barber x reader #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #the gray man #defending jacob

[antxlss]

I saw that you're taking requests, you can one shot with Anakin, in a universe where Padmé never existed and he and the reader raise the twins. Something cute like Luke wanting to be pilot and Leia having her dad personality

the twins

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

summary: *above*

warnings: suggestive comments

words: 1.7k

a/n: this one is so cute i can’t. thank you for the request, i truly love this one! requests for anakin are open! as always, i hope you all enjoy, much love! <3

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

You were sitting in the living room if your home with your husband, Anakin, and your 6 year old twins.

Leia and Luke were playing in the floor with an assortment of toys as you and Anakin watched them intently.

Anakin looked between the twins with a proud expression on his face. They looked adorable, both had inherited the blonde hair from Anakin.

"The twins are growing up," he said with a happy sigh.

Luke and Leia giggled as they played, seemingly having some kind of competition on how many toys they could fit in their mouths. Anakin chuckled at their antics, which made Leia laugh even more, while Luke seemed to be taking his 'role' much more seriously than his sister.

"Darlings, get those out of your mouths please." You gently told your children.

Anakin looked at you like you had placed all the stars in the sky.

"You are such an amazing mother." He whispered.

Anakin smiled at you, and gave a soft chuckle when the twins finally listened to you.

"And you are a wonderful father. Both of them are growing up so fast. I can't believe they're already six," he said softly.

The twins ran up to Anakin and began climbing on his legs, trying to get attention from him. He laughed again and picked them up, ruffling their hair.

"Luke loves climbing, Leia has her mother's beauty." He whispered, which made Luke smile. Leia was a bit embarrassed by Anakin's compliment.

Luke held up his hand, a toy fighter ship gripped tight.

"I want to be a pilot, just like daddy!" He exclaimed.

Anakin grinned widely.

"That's wonderful, son! One day we'll find you the best starfighter in the galaxy, and you'll get to be just like me."

He leaned down to look into Luke's eyes, and ruffled his blonde hair.

"I love you."

Luke giggled happily and put his arms around Anakin's neck. Leia was jealous of the attention.

Leia climbed in your lap and nuzzled her head into your neck.

"And you missy, are just like your father. You get jealous so easily." You tell her as you tickle her sides. She giggles and squirms.

Leia tried to wriggle free, giggling and squirming.

Anakin laughed, then reached out and ruffled Leia's hair.

"She is just like me. She hates not getting attention."

He leaned down to kiss Leia's little nose. The girl giggled and playfully stuck her tongue out.

"So, what does everyone want for dinner?" You ask.

It was already getting late so you decided you'd better start cooking.

"Can we get tacos?" Luke asked hopefully.

Leia nodded vigorously, agreeing with her brother.

Anakin laughed, and nodded in agreement.

"Tacos sound fantastic. Is that something we can do, my love?" He asked you, turning to look at you.

"I believe you underestimate my cooking skills." You smirk as you lifted Leia off your lap and stood up to head to the kitchen.

Anakin chuckled and lifted Luke off his lap, standing up behind you.

"I believe you might be right, my love. We'll see what kind of taco creation the queen of our castle makes."

He reached around and squeezed your hip with a grin.

"Mommy! I want to help you cook!" Leia jumps up and follows you to the kitchen.

Anakin looked on as Leia followed you, amused.

"Looks like you have a little helper, my love."

He bent down to his daughter.

"Be careful, my little princess, the stove is hot."

"I know, Daddy," she said confidently.

Luke giggled. Anakin smirked.

"I want to help too!" Luke yelled.

"Okay darling, you and Daddy can cut up the vegetables while Leia and I make the taco meat." You suggest.

"Yes, mommy!" Luke said excitedly.

Luke ran to Anakin, who took Luke's hand and brought him to the counter, pulling out a knife and cutting board. Anakin started to teach Luke how to safely cut the vegetables.

Leia hopped up on a stool, watching as you started making the meat

"It looks so yummy!" She exclaimed as she watched you.

You chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"Okay honey, pour this season into the ground beef." You tell Leia as you continue to stir the pot.

Leia poured the seasonings into the pot of ground beef. She stirred with careful hands, trying to help you as much as possible.

Luke was doing his best to cut up the vegetables, but was taking his time, as Anakin kept having to check what he was doing.

Anakin chuckled, ruffling Luke's hair.

"Just slow and steady, son."

After the tacos were finished, Anakin helped the kids set the table while you plated the tacos. You walked into the dining room setting the twins' plates in front of them and they dug in immediately.

You sat Anakin's in front of him.

"Thank you my love." He kissed your cheek.

Anakin smiled and sat down. He immediately started eating, and the twins followed. They both seemed to have inherited Anakin's appetite for your food

Anakin took a deep breath before he spoke.

"These tacos are absolutely delicious, my love. You never cease to amaze me."

He leaned in to kiss you, and his expression turned teasing.

"But, you know what else is delicious?" He whispered, his hand on your thigh.

You gave Anakin a stern look and smacked him playfully.

"Knock it off." You scolded.

He laughed, but still leaned towards you. His expression still teasing.

"Come on, it's true, you are."

He kissed you on the cheek and winked, before he continued eating, trying to suppress his laughter at your stern look. Leia and Luke were still busy eating their food, and hadn't noticed Anakin's flirtations between the two of you.

"You really are something, Skywalker." You laugh.

Anakin gave you a mock pout.

"You'll never let me live that down, will you, my love?"

He laughed along with you, and leaned back in his seat, but still kept a flirtatious expression on his face, which you knew all too well by now.

"Never." You giggle.

Luke and Leia looked up from their food, noticing the playful smiles on yours and Anakin's faces.

"Are mommy and daddy flirting again?" Luke asked with a grin on his face, while Leia tried and failed to suppress a giggle.

"Yucky!" Leia laughed.

Anakin laughed too, and you chuckled.

"Yucky indeed," Anakin said while shaking his head in mock annoyance.

Luke smirked, knowing the reaction that his comment would get from their parents. Leia giggled.

"Daddy's right, that's yucky!" She agreed.

"Yeah, gross," Luke chimed in.

"You guys are silly!" You giggled at the twins.

Luke and Leia giggled, too.

"We aren't silly!" Luke said while feigning offense.

"Yeah! We aren't silly!" Leia replied, giggling also.

Anakin laughed, and shook his head.

"Very silly," he agreed, before finishing his plate of tacos.

"I think it's time for baths." You told the kids.

Leia and Luke groaned.

"But we don't wanna take baths," Luke whined.

"Aww.. Do we have to, daddy?" Leia asked, putting the best puppy dog eyes on she could.

Anakin laughed at her.

"Sorry guys, mommy's the boss here. You gotta have your baths."

"You have to bathe or else you'll be stinky!" You scrunch up your nose and wave your hand in front of your face.

Both Leia and Luke groaned.

"But we don't want tooo.." Luke whined.

"Awww.. We hate bathing.." Leia complained in a whiny high-pitched voice, which made Anakin laugh again.

Anakin shook his head, then stood and lifted both the children up, carrying them towards the bathroom.

"Thanks hon." You smile at your husband.

Anakin winked at you as he disappeared behind the bathroom door with the twins, presumably to give them their baths.

"You're welcome, my love."

You could hear Luke and Leia's complaints from the bathroom, but Anakin didn't seem to be letting them win this round.

You began to clean the mess up from dinner as Anakin bathed the kids.

After a few minutes, Anakin came out of the bathroom, looking exhausted. The kids were already out, wrapped in towels.

"And they're done!" He said with a sigh.

Leia and Luke were already sitting on the sofa, watching a childrens' show. Leia was trying to look as innocent as possible, while Luke couldn't seem to care less after his failed attempt at avoiding the bath.

"Okay guys go get your pj's on!" You tell them.

"Aw, can't we watch the show a bit longer?" Luke whined.

Leia sighed and nodded in agreement, putting on her best puppy dog face.

"Leia, you know how late it is." Anakin pointed out.

"But, daddy!" Luke said.

Anakin smiled at the two of them, shaking his head.

"No, it's time for bed. You can keep watching the show tomorrow."

"That's right, listen to Daddy. Go change then we will be right there to tuck you in!" You smile at them.

Luke groaned and pulled a frowning face, but both him and Leia still got up and got their pj's on.

"Alright, we're ready to be tucked in. Can you carry us, daddy?" Luke asked, giving you a puppy dog look.

Leia giggled, and also seemed to expect Anakin to pick them both up at the same time.

Anakin chuckled, and smiled at his wife. He carried both the twins in his arms, and took them into their room.

He placed them on the beds, and pulled the covers over them. Then, he knelt down and kissed both of them on their heads.

"Goodnight, my little stars." He whispered.

Luke sighed, and pulled the covers over himself. Leia giggled and pulled Anakin's head towards her, and kissed him on the cheek.

You peeked you head in their room just as Anakin was leaving.

"Goodnight angels." You said in a shushed tone.

The twins grinned at you, and waved their little hands. Anakin looked back when he heard your voice and smiled.

Leia spoke in a small, sleepy tone.

"Night, mommy. Do we get a goodnight kiss?" She asked with wide eyes, and a smile.

Luke giggled along with his sister, and also looked at you expectantly.

"Of course." You smiled and walked into their bedroom, placing a delicate kiss on each of their faces.

Leia snuggled into her pillow when you kissed her, and closed her eyes.

Luke held his arms out to you, wanting a kiss, too. Anakin looked on, smiling at the sweet children.

You and Anakin headed down the hall towards your shared bedroom.

Anakin gave you a teasing look.

"So, are you tired, my love? Or.. are you ready for a continuation of earlier?"

He smirked at you, expecting another fun night.

#anakin one shot #anakin x you #sw anakin #anakin needs a hug #anakin is a little shit #anakin skywalker x you #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #star wars anakin #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker is hot

[sparklingchan]

A Duel of Hearts || Kim Seungmin (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Seungmin Word Count: 5k+ Warnings: Suggestive, strong language(ig), mention of suicide (not the main characters). Genre: Royal AU, Friends to Lovers, Dark Academia, Angst mixed with fluff. Description: Caught in a dilemma of affection, Kim Seungmin, a prince, finds himself drawn to you. There was but one obstacle to his pursuit —you've set a single condition for all potential suitors: no royal lineage. A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another installation of the SKZ Royal AU. Idk why but Seungmin has this Dark Academia kind of vibe so I tried to incorporate that here. Hope you guys like it! More to come<3 Do check out the other fics in the skz royal series. (The stories are not interrelated) Here's the link.

You like to believe that your new dorm room is starting to grow on you.

It wasn't anything like your room back in your parents' house of course; but over the past twelve months, you'd renovated your dorm room enough to feel at home.

You'd replaced the light blue curtains with grey ones, swapped the single candle stand with a lantern to help you study better at night, put on a white table cloth and the list goes on.

A knock on your door pulls your attention.

It must be Wendy, you think to yourself, walking toward the door.

Correction: your only friend Wendy.

"Gosh, I really hate this academy, y/n." She walks in complaining, "I cannot believe they gave me a B in geography. I love geography. I cannot believe they'd ruin my overall grade like that."

"What happened?" You ask, closing the door behind her.

"I don't know! I will deal with this later, anyway," she says, fishing out a note from the pocket of her blazer. "I'm here to discuss a more pressing matter."

"What's that?"

"Of course, it's one of your lovers, y/n. I have two more lover letters in my backpack. Do you need them?"

You half chuckle and half sigh, taking the note from her and tearing it into bits.

"Ouch." Wendy says, staring at you, "Tell me y/n, it's been over a year since you joined the academy. All the boys here would die to even see you across the hallway yet you've kept the door to your heart locked. Why?"

"I am not not open to having a relationship. I just dislike how most of these men who pursue me are of royal blood. And if there's anything I despise most is royalty. That letter you gave me right now? It was from the Duke's son. It's his third letter in a row. That boy just doesn't know when to stop." You press your hand to your forehead, stressed.

Wendy nods her head, "Yeah, he is an annoying brat, I'll give you that, but y/n, I really don't understand your dislike towards royalty? Any girl out there would love to be pursued by royal suitors, including myself."

You smile in response, "It's a secret."

As always, Wendy just chuckles and doesn't push you to answer further because really, you don't know what you'll do if you ever have to explain yourself. It's a secret you rarely even discuss with yourself.

"Come on, we'll be late for our afternoon class." You say and walk towards the door, already tired of the day ahead of you.

*

“But Professor, do you not think that the first king of Taru was a horrible person morally? I mean, he did kill all of his wives when they failed to birth a son.”

If there is anyone in this academy who you think hates you to the core is your History Professor. The amount of times you’d ask him a question and he’d reply very vaguely, never answering to the point was insane. So naturally, you had developed a habit of asking him odd questions just to spite him.

Your Professor looks at you, almost angrily, and answers, “We are no one to judge a historical figure. Miss y/n.”

“But sir, you are portraying him as a role model to the class. Don’t you think that’s wrong? As you said, we are no one to judge him.”

Your professor hisses through gritted teeth and turns towards the board, not bothering to answer you. A subtle smile finds your lips.

“So, class as I was saying. The first King of this country- Taru- built the longest bridge in -”

“Excuse me, sir?” A hand shoots up from among the students followed by a voice, “May I answer Miss y/n’s question please?”

Your professor rubs his temple and sighs, nodding, “Go ahead, Mister Seungmin.”

You turn your head up to look at the owner of the voice, and much to your surprise, it is Kim Seungmin. He’s one of the quieter kids in the class but you’ve worked on a few projects together so you know that there’s more depth to him than just being the quiet kid by the window seat.

“Y/n, I think we could still look up to the King as a leader. Yes, he was ruthless to his wives but we don’t need to look up to him as a husband. He was, on the other hand, a great leader who led his country to become one of the greatest in the world, second to none.”

“Well, does that answer your question?” The professor asks and you nod, bowing towards Seungmin. He bows back.

The professor teaches the class for an hour more, letting you guys dismiss after his daily warning of, “You'll be going to universities next year so do work hard this year,”

You gather all your things and walk out of the class, stomach growling, almost begging you to make your way to the dining area for lunch.

For lunch, the menu rarely changes except on holidays.

And in all honesty, you’re tired of having chicken stew with rice everyday since you stepped foot in this academy, but the other options are extremely limited so you join the line of hungry and tired students, complaining about how difficult this year has been.

Once you have your plate of rice and stew, you seat on one of the empty benches and begin to gobble up the rice like there’s no tomorrow.

“Um, y/n? Mind if I join you?”

“Seungmin?” you ask, almost surprised, “Have a seat, please.”

Seungmin mutters a small ‘thanks’ and claims the seat in front of you, placing his backpack on the sides.

“So what have you been up to?” he asks to break the ice. It seems like you’re more focused on the rice in front of you than him.

“Eating?” you chuckle, “What’s up with you? How’s your preparation for University?”

Seungmin, licks his bottom lip, deep in thought.

How was his preparation for university going, really? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even remember the last time he opened his books after school.

In fact, lately, his mind has been occupied with something entirely different-you.

You, who acts so indifferent to the rest of the people yet helped Seungmin when he was almost failing a chemistry project evaluation.

You, who says she has no friends yet packs extra food from home for Wendy.

You, who says she is having a hard time adjusting to the academy yet she’s his favorite person here.

How could you not be on his mind?

“Eh, it’s okay. I guess.” Seungmin scratches the back of his head. “How’s yours?”

“Not really well, to be honest . If only that duke’s son would stop sending me those stupid letters, my life would be a lot more peaceful.” you say and it’s true that those letter have been nothing short of a nuisance since you came back from the semester break. You respect his feelings, but you’re not obligated to like him back. Hell, you’ve never even spoken to the man. “He’s so persistent, it scares me, really.”

Seungmin could feel his anger building up. Of course he knows you have quite a few admirers. Even some of his friends are in that crowd. But Seungmin likes to think he always had the upper hand.

Yet he feels annoyed, offended at the thought that someone was pursuing you to the point of fear.

“He might be a duke’s son but he isn’t behaving like one.” Seungmin comments.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. All of these aristocrats and royals believe that the world is at their disposal. They could just command it and everything would go according to them. It’s ridiculous. I’m so glad you’re not from a royal line or else we wouldn’t have been having this conversation.” you say and Seungmin’s world stands still.

You think he’s not from a royal family?

You didn’t know who he really was?

He almost wants to tell you the truth, that he, in fact, is the descendant of the very king you were talking about in History today. But he chooses to remain silent. He’s enjoying your company way too much to ruin it in one day.

“Yeah, thank god for that.” Prince Seungmin replies.

*

The next few days pass by in the blink of an eye and the academic pressure gets worse.

"Wendy, could I borrow your lantern? Mine is broken, I think." You ask Wendy one afternoon.

The sun brightens up the inside of Wendy's room.

"Yeah, sure." She passes you her lantern, "I have a spare one. Going to the library?"

You nod.

There's no better place to study than the library. Especially on such a warm and cozy afternoon when everyone just wants to take a nap.

"I'll see you at dinner then?"

"Sure thing."

You walk the corridors, fiddling with your pockets, making sure you'd taken all your stationary. It would be a hassle to walk back to your room again.

As soon as you enter the library, the sounds of the world as if disappear. Not even the tapping of pens could be heard without focusing hard.

You find a suitable seat for yourself by the window and settle down there.

The library feels colder than your room and you're grateful for it. At least you wouldn't be sleepy now.

"Someone's working hard, I see." A teasing voice whispers from behind, "May I join you?"

Seungmin’s voice, much to your surprise, brings a smile to your face.

"Sure." You say, shy like a kid in kindergarten.

He claims the seat across you, setting his books and stationary on the table.

And for the next three hours, the only sound you hear from his side is that of his breathing. Even and steady.

He's busy reading a book and his eyes are focused on the pages, never once wavering anywhere else.

He's quite sincere, you realize.

The sun sets and the students light up their lanterns and immediately go back to studying. Seungmin glances at you for a second, his lips curving into a soft smile. You smile back, albeit shyly.

Hours pass by and you know it's almost time for dinner because your stomach is growling. Louder than ever.

"Y/n," Seungmin speaks to you, putting his book down, "Want to have some warm Noodles? There's a new stall in town which sells delicious noodles."

You contemplate for a second before agreeing with a smile.

"Noodles sound amazing right now."

The both of you pick up your lanterns and walk out the main gate into the streets of the town.

While the town is busy and bustling with activities during the day, at nightfall the town comes to a standstill. Something you've always liked.

"It's not in the market square, I presume." You say as Seungmin navigates through the lanes of the market.

"No," He replies, "But it is quite near to the market."

After a five minute walk from the market square, you finally see an old bamboo hut in the distance, dim and quiet.

But the moment Seungmin and you are seated on one of the wooden benches, you're as if in a trance. The aroma of herbs and spices and chicken broth is nothing like you'd ever felt before.

"Grandma, we'll have two bowls of noodles with a side of Kimchi, please." Seungmin says.

"Sure thing, son." The woman replies with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You're a regular here. " You say to Seungmin, looking around the interiors of the stall. "It's cozy and the noodles smell amazing already."

"Oh, y/n, wait till you taste them. It'll be like nothing you'd ever had before."

And true to his words, the moment you eat those noodles, flavors burst in your mouth.

It is a perfect blend of sweet and salty, but the black pepper adds the perfect spice to the combination of flavors.

"Seungmin, this is amazing!" You say, taking a second bite. "We have to come back here again!"

He can only chuckle at your reaction. If you'd say the word, he'd bring you to this place everyday. Without fail.

The two of you eat quietly, only sharing a glance of amazement once in a while.

"I'll pay, y/n." Seungmin offers once you guys are done eating, bellies full.

"No! Let me pay." You get up immediately and walk up to the old lady.

Seungmin can only shake his head at you.

"How much will that be, grandma?" You ask, taking out your purse.

"Oh, its on the house today. " the lady says, much to your surprise, "Master Seungmin brought his girlfriend out for a date at our place. I couldn't take money from you today."

Seungmin and you stare at each other, wide eyed and speechless and hearts racing.

"Grandma! She's not my girlfriend! We're classmates." Seungmin says, the tip of his ears bright red.

You nod, shyly, "There's nothing of that sort going on between us!"

Grandma smiles as she pours soup into a bowl, "Well, not yet maybe. I have an eye for things like that, you see."

When you exit the hut, Seungmin remains quite, his lips pursed in a line. It's truly endearing to see him flustered like that.

"Well, that was awkward." You say, trying to lighten up the mood.

Seungmin nods, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry about that. I don't know why she'd say that."

"No, no, it's okay. She's an adorable woman." You say.

The rest of the walk passes by in silence.

For some reason, you always find yourself in these silent moments with Seungmin. But you like the silence. It's calming, not uncomfortable.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks as the two of you reach the entrance of your dorm building.

You nod. You're about to turn around when he pulls you in for a gentle embrace.

Your heart stops. Your breathing stops. The earth stops.

Without even meaning to, you find yourself melting into the embrace.

The next second, Seungmin pulls back and walks towards his dorm, not even saying a word.

And you're standing there, mouth hanging open.

What are these nervous sensations Seungmin is making you feel?

*

"So why were you not at dinner yesterday?" Wendy asks the next morning, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, "Were you with a boy?"

You try to calm the heat spreading to your cheeks, "Kind of. But it wasn't anything like what you think. I swear. We were studying together and then he asked if I wanted to try a new food stall in town. That's all."

And then he hugged you Goodnight. And you haven't been able to forget the way his body felt against yours.

"And who exactly is 'we'?" Wendy asks again, the tone of suspiciousness still present in her words.

"Seungmin and I." You say.

Wendy stares at you, flabbergasted.

Seungmin and you?

You went out on a supposed platonic date with a Prince?

"Y/n, Seungmin is-" Wendy's words are cut off by the ringing of the hourly bell, indicating that your classes are about to begin.

"Wendy, I'll tell you all about it. Promise. See you later." You say and disappear into the crowd of hurrying students but Wendy doesn't move.

Wendy has a different plan in her mind. Something she considers more important than attending boring lectures.

*

"Kim Seungmin, can I see you for a second?" Wendy drags Seungmin by his arm the moment he steps out of his dorm building.

He stares at her, confused.

He didn't have a class yet; he was just stepping out to get some breakfast. Where was she dragging him early in the morning?

"What's wrong?" He asks.

Wendy and him have never even talked with each other before so why this sudden interest?

Wendy stands in front of him, eyes full of doubt. Her hands rest on her hips.

"Are you trying to mess with y/n?" She asks flatly.

Seungmin is taken aback, "What? No! Of course not!"

Why would she even think that? Seungmin almost feels angry.

"Then why are you hanging out with her late at night and why is she oblivious to you being of royal blood?"

Seungmin sighs, "Okay, Wendy, listen. I'm not trying to mess with her or anything. But its true I haven't told her about my family yet. And I will tell her. But I just want her to know me for me. Before she starts to dislike me just because I'm of royal blood. Do you think I'm wrong?"

Wendy thinks for a second before replying, "Well, you don't mean any harm. But...I think you should tell her about yourself. I mean if you're trying to get her to like you back, might as well be honest about your life."

Seungmin’s eyes are wide with shock. How did she even know about Seungmin’s crush on you? Did one of his friends spread the rumor? Did she try to spy on him?

"Hey, don't look so surprised, your majesty." sarcasm drips from her words, "Everyone here knows you like her. We have eyes, you know?"

Seungmin doesn't reply, embarrassed. Of course it is hot gossip when a prince falls in love, isn't it?

People have written sagas and books and poems about it. What is a little academy gossip compared to that?

*

You find out Seungmin hanging out with a female friend the a few days later during lunch, and you try to shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

"Seungmin, could I speak to you for a second?"

The girl looks at you, from head to toe and nods her head. "Hey, she's quite pretty, Seungmin."

Seungmin sighs, "Oh, shut up, Sojong. Don't you have a class?"

His ears are red again, like how they were back at the noodles shop.

"I'm going now anyways. Bye sweethearts!" The girl walks off with a smile, and you're left confused.

"Don't mind her. She's my cousin. An idiot cousin, if I may add."

It feels as if a weight is lifted off of your chest. Your lips automatically curve into a smile.

"I didn't know you had a cousin in the academy."

"Yeah, well. Now you do. So what's going on?" He replies.

"Um.. did Wendy say something to you a few days ago? About you going to the noodles stall with me?"

Seungmin chuckles, "Oh yeah. But it's alright. She's your friend. I get that she's quite protective of you."

You smile, "Thanks for understanding. But , umm...Seungmin, she also might have implied that you kind of want to go out with me."

Seungmin’s soul almost leaves his body. Wendy could not have shut up about it, could she? Now you probably think Seungmin is some kind of creep trying to get into your pants.

"Hey, it's okay. Wendy always exaggerates everything and she wants me to get a boyfriend desperately so I understand if you didn't say anything of that sort to her. She's not very good at conveying messages." You say.

"But I did." Seungmin says, mustering all his courage, "I did say that. To her. And it's totally okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I really do. "

You almost feel like laughing.

You haven't been able to get him out of your mind for the past few days. And he thinks you don't like him?

The both of you had been busy with different classes and tests and projects. The few glances and greetings you shared with him during lunch would become the highlight of your day. And he thinks you wouldn't want to go out with him?

Impossible.

"I do, though. I'm open to the idea of going out with you."

Seungmin was not prepared for that answer. He was sure he'd get rejected, but here you were, looking all shy and sweet while confessing to liking him back?

"Um..so how about tomorrow night? There's a nice restaurant with live music and all. I could book us a table there."

You try to supress the grin that is trying to claw its way onto your face.

"Sounds great. See you then."

"Yeah, see you." He replies, heart hammering hard against his chest.

*

The night finally comes and you find Seungmin standing just outside of your dorm building.

He wears a black long coat and pants, paired with a high collared white shirt and a rose in his hands.

Your legs feel weak the moment your eyes meet. And the gravity of the situation finally dawns on you.

By tonight, Kim Seungmin might become your boyfriend. He's handsome, intelligent and funny, yet he decides to go out on a date with you?

Why? How did the two of you even end up here?

On the other hand, Seungmin feels like he'd been hit by the cupid's arrow. The only thing he can think about as you make your way towards him is how beautiful that long, pink dress looks on you and how he couldn't wait to make you his.

"For the beautiful lady." He says, offering you the red rose.

Shyly, you take the rose.

"Shall we?" He asks, gently taking your hand. Your hand feels warm.

"Yes." You reply, intertwining your fingers with his.

Oh, how beautiful it feels.

To be able to walk hand in hand with the man you admired so much. It feels natural. Like this is how the two of you were always meant to be. Maybe if Wendy had never told you about how Seungmin felt about you, you'd have never made the effort to ask him if he ever saw you in a non-platonic way.

But you're glad everything that happened happened. You're not someone who liked to live with what-ifs.

The restaurant he'd booked just adds to the beauty of this evening. The ambience is nice and a musician plays a beautiful melody on the piano, matching to the aesthetic of the place.

"I had booked a table for two by the name of Kim Seungmin. "

The waiter takes you to your place, a large candle adorning the center of the table.

You take your seats and the waiter takes your order and leaves.

Seungmin gets a hold of your hand again, intertwining your fingers.

"I can't believe we're actually out on a date." He chuckles, tracing his thumb across the back of your palm.

"I can't either. It's surreal." You say, "But I love it. I love being here with you."

Seungmin nods, "I love being anywhere, as long as you're with me."

"Didn't know Kim Seungmin was such a flirt, huh." You laugh, your cheeks heating up.

"Oh, you're in for a long ride, baby girl." He says, pressing his lips softly against your fingers.

Goosebumps.

Indeed, you were in for a long ride.

*

That night, the two of you walk back to the academy campus in silence.

A silence that is so calming and so comforting, it feels almost like a soothing hug from Seungmin.

When you two reach the main entrance of your dorm, Seungmin pulls you in for a hug again.

And just like last time, you melt into his arms.

He smells like smoke and mint and comfort.

"I had a great time, y/n." He whispers, pulling away but keeping your faces close.

He put strands of your hair behind your ears, so soft and tender.

"I did, too." You reply, your hands gently settling on his cheeks.

"Can I kiss you, y/n, please?" Seungmin asks, almost pleads. Like kissing you is what would keep him alive from that day on, like kissing you would fill his lungs with oxygen, like kissing you is the drug that he just cannot quit.

And you can only nod before he crashes his lips onto yours.

And yet again, he's gentle and tender and you sigh into his mouth when he pulls you closer.

He tastes like the tiramisu you had back in the restaurant, sweet and like strawberries.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He says when you pull back, breathing heavy. His eyes are shy with a sense of pride in them. He couldn't believe that the girl he'd been crushing on since last year was finally his. He couldn't believe his luck.

And neither could you.

"Yeah, see you!" You say and kiss his lips once again before jogging into the dorm building.

Seungmin goes to sleep that night dreaming of you and wakes up yearning for you in the morning.

And the cycle repeats every day, for the next 2 months.

The two of you had become inseparable, spending every possible moment with each other.

Whenever your schedules would not let you spend a lot of time together, the two of would make sure to have at least one meal together. That single meal would be the highlight of both of your days.

But the final exams loom over you like an ominous grey cloud.

"So, as you already know, our country neighbors multiple other countries, each with their own king and set of rules. I want you all to remember the names of all current kings and all new rules they had added to their country during their tenure. " the history teacher was going on and on, "Remember, you only have a month left for your finals. That final grade would determine the trajectory of your lives. Study well."

And he finishes off with that threat.

You were so busy jotting down notes during the class that you didn't notice Seungmin's absence from the day's class.

You'd been late this morning and didn't have time to even have breakfast before coming to class. Naturally, you'd assumed he'd been in the class.

"I don't see your boyfriend today, y/n." Wendy says after class, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing." You say, absently, stuffing your books back in your bag.

Wendy tags along with her other friends for lunch and you excuse yourself, making your way towards Seungmin’s dorm building.

You'd been to his room multiple times now, yet everytime you're surprised by how neat it is. The books are neatly lined up on the shelf, the blankets are folded on the bed and his shoes are neatly stacked by the corner of his cupboard.

"Missed you at class today." You say to Seungmin, whose eyes widen with excitement when he sees you enter the room.

"Yeah, I spent nearly three hours solving a problem last night, I didn't wake up on time." He says, patting the space near him on the bed.

You sit beside him, "Can we study together at night? I need your help."

He agrees immediately, pecking your cheek.

"In fact, we could go to the library right now, what say?" He asks.

"Did you forget, Seungmin? We have a field trip today. In the second half. We're supposed to assemble at the playground after lunch."

Seungmin chuckles, "Yeah. A field trip to the old fort of Taru. Almost forgot about it."

Something he'd been dreading for weeks now.

When it was announced that the final year students would be going on a field trip, he was excited in the beginning.

But when he found out the location of the said trip, he was devastated. The old fort of Taru was his ancestral home. His grandfather and great-grand father and great-great grandfather fought multiple wars and ruled the country from that fort and when they passed away, Seungmin’s father had shifted his family to a new palace just outside the city, deciding to turn the old fort into a museum for tourists.

Seungmin didn't dislike the old fort. In fact, he loved visiting that place . Every year, he'd look forward to visiting the old fort to pay homage to his forefathers during special festivals that only the Royal family celebrated.

Yet, he was dreading today's trip. Because at the entrance of the new museum, stands a tall painting of him and his family, welcoming tourists to their ancestral home.

And if you see the painting, his façade is going to disappear and you'll know his identity and that would be the end of his beautiful daydream.

But when you pull him by his collar and kiss him with so much love, he cannot help but wish for this dream to last forever.

*

When the time finally comes to board the horse carriages that would take the students to the fort, Seungmin starts rethinking every single choice of his till date. He knew he was hurting you, he knew you would be devasted to find out who he really is. But he would die if had to lose you.

And his greatest fears come to life the moment he sets foot out of that damned carriage.

Wendy, with her hand on your shoulder, stands near the fort entrance. You'd reached the fort earlier since the girls were sent off earlier. And Seungmin wishes they hadn't been.

You look confused, sad, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation.

When Wendy sees Seungmin, her eyes widen. "She knows." She mouths at him.

Seungmin swallows the lump in his throat, "Y/n, I swear..I swear I didn't do it to deceive you. I really like you and hell, I even love you. Please. Hear me out."

You don't say a word and stare at him with a piercing gaze.

"Y/n, please. I don't know why you hate Royal families but I promise you, I'm not as bad as you think they are. You know me, y/n. I'm your Seungmin!" He insists, trying to hold your hand.

But you pull away.

"You lied to me. You're no better than them." You say, almost a whisper, "Forget about what happened between us. It's over now."

And with that, the love of Seungmin’s life walks out of his life, leaving him in shambles.

*

You'd not slept properly for a week now and even stopped attending any classes. You had buried yourself in your books, revising every single page of every single book for as many times as you could.

The only time you did step out of your room was during lunch and dinner and even then, you made sure to avoid him at all costs.

It had been dreadful, really. You thought it would be easier for you to move on and forget the past few months if you kept reminding yourself of Seungmin’s lies, but it only made you miss him more.

He lied, yes; but he also made you fall in love with him, which was worse. Falling in love and dreaming of a family with Seungmin was never on your cards, you were sure you'd always marry the person your parents would have chosen for you. But here you were. Heartbroken and infatuated; both by the same person.

And today is no different from other days, or so you thought.

At around half past midnight, you hear a knock on your door. Wendy had gone home for a week and would be back tomorrow, so you are genuinely curious as to who would knock on your door at such an ungodly hour.

When you open the door, you see those eyes again- the black orbs that you'd fallen so deeply for.

"Y/n, do you have a minute? Please?" Seungmin pleads when you freeze at the sight of him.

"No. I'm afraid not." You reply, your heart hammering against your chest. The tightness in your throat does not help.

"Please, y/n. I beg you, please."

Across the hallway, a few girls pop their heads out of their doors, wondering where the male voice is from.

Sensing no other option, you pull Seungmin inside your room reluctantly.

"Fine. Say what you have to and then leave." You mutter.

You're doing everything in your power to avoid any sort of eye contact with him because you know that is what your weakness is.

He sits at the edge of your bed, while you sit in your chair, across the room.

"Y/n, you don't have to take me back. But I want you to know that I never meant to deceive you. It is pure, genuine love that I feel for you. I know you hate me because I'm of royal blood but ignoring that part, you did like me, didn't you? Before you even knew about my family. I'm still that person. I may be a prince but that is not all I am."

Your throat gets tighter and your eyes mist over with tears.

"It doesn't matter. Our relationship started from a lie. And as a matter of fact, I cannot ignore that you're a prince. I had one condition for all suitors and I cannot withdraw it for anyone."

Seungmin swallows, his eyes bloodshot, "Can you at least tell me why you hate Royal blood so much? What did they ever do to you?"

You scoff, "You really wanna know, huh? Does it still matter now? Because I'm never going to get back together with you, Seungmin."

"I want to know."

And so you tell him.

"I hate royals so much because I am one of them. I am a princess. A forgotten one, but the blood of royalty still courses through my veins."

You were a little girl of around four when your now parents had adopted you, more or less. You didn't know who they were or why they were taking you away from your mother and father- the king and queen of Nabha- a country neighboring Taru. You only remember crying till your head hurt. You remember your birth mother crying, standing at the gates of the castle while her emerald crown fell at her feet.

When you turned twelve, your adoptive parents told you the truth of your adoption.

Your adoptive mother worked in the Royal Palace as a governess for royal children while your adoptive father worked as a royal architect. They'd both met in the palace and fell in love, eventually married. You were born to the queen and king a year later. Everything was going well.

But as all stories go, yours had a villain too. Your own birth father- the king. He was the worst kind of person. He was cruel, unjust, abusive and hated you because you were a girl. He had prayed to every God known to mankind for a son, only for him to receive a daughter in return. But he refused to crown you the heir. For the next few years, the king traveled to all neighboring countries , looking for some solution to his problem. And then he found it. An oracle that told him to disown his first born daughter, in order to be blessed with a son.

When the king arranged for your adoption, he didn't even bother consulting his wife. One morning, you were in her arms and the next, you were being taken away to Taru by your adoptive parents.

The Queen killed herself the next morning.

"And that was the day I promised two things to myself: First, I would never set foot back in that country. I made Taru, your country my home. Second, I would never marry a man of royal ancestry. Because I know, no matter what happens, I never want to be associated with royals ever again. Betrayal is all we'll receive at the end under the pretense of a greater good."

Seungmin is speechless at this point. He thought your dislike towards royal lineage was just a matter of preference but now, he understands you. Truly. He understands why you'd take his lies as a sign of betrayal.

"Y/n, I-"

"Save it. You have your answers and I have mine. Leave."

He walks out of the room without a word and the moment you lock the door behind him, he falls on his knees, crying. His heart aches for you. For everything you'd been through and for everything he put you through. He cries for you.

But little does he know, behind the closed door, you're on your knees too, sobbing into your hands. Every single fiber of your being begged you to stop him and you chose to ignore it.

You wonder if you'll ever be able to hate Seungmin like you wish you did.

*

Wendy is lecturing you again this morning, her face tense.

"Y/n, we're leaving this academy forever tomorrow. Can you please give yourself the closure you deserve? Just go and talk to Seungmin. You don't have to hate his guts forever. "

The final exam results are out today, which means that your parents would be coming to pick you up tomorrow evening. You'd be leaving this place and all the bitter-sweet memories associated with it forever. It hurts you a little.

But you had to be strong.

"I've got my closure, Wendy. I promise. Can we talk about something else now?"

Wendy sighs, "Y/n, if this is what you want, then I shall support you. But know that I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have ten kids with someone else!"

For the first time in months, you allow yourself to laugh at Wendy's stupid statements. She joins in too.

But her words stick with you throughout the day.

That night, after you're done packing most of your stuff, you crash on your bed, a thousand thoughts circling your head.

I genuinely will always believe that you and Seungmin were meant to be. Even if you get married and have kids with someone else!

Even the thought of marrying another man and having his kids nauseated you. Are you really ready to let go of Seungmin, forever?

You had spent a long time trying to forget Prince Kim Seungmin, his voice, his words, his touch, but had you really succeeded?

After today, you might never see him again. Are you ready to live with that regret forever?

The answer to all these questions is no. You are not someone to live wondering the what-ifs.

So you jump out of the bed, lantern in hand and run towards Seungmin’s dorm.

*

"Y/n, did you come here by mistake?" Is his first reaction when he opens his door, hair messy and eyes alert.

You shake your head, "No. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

He let's you in.

"So, what's up?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks nervous. Like the first time he had taken you out for dinner to grandma's noodle shop.

"I've been thinking. About you and about us. And I.. I'm scared. I will not lie. I do not trust royals, but for some reason, I trust you. I know that there’s a thousand things that could go wrong but I still want to be with you. If you'll have me again"

Seungmin is dumbfounded. Literally. How does one even respond to things like these?

"Seungmin, say something!" You insist.

He forces the words out of his mouth, "I'm g-glad you feel that way."

You scowl, hands on your hips.

"I bare my heart open to you and this is all you have to say? Really? Listen, if you've found someone else in these few weeks then I understand, I really do but please at least-"

He kisses you. He kisses you so beautifully, it pains you to even think that you were willing to give up this. And for what? A horrible father who coincidentally was also of royal blood?

His tongue nudges at your tongue playfully, while his hands are cupping your face, thumbs circling your skin in comfort.

You'd never felt so much peace.

When you pull away, he gently presses his forehead onto yours, "I wouldn't dare find someone else. I assure you, whatever prejudices Nabha had, they do not exist here in Taru. I'm not like your birth father and I will never be. I promise. I will do everything in my power to convince you about it."

And for some reason, as usual, you believe him.

You kiss him again, knowing that if you could go back in time, you would not change a thing. You would let Seungmin easily win the duel of your hearts a thousand times over.

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz au #stray kids imagines #skz seungmin #skz seungmin au #skz felix #skz lee felix #kim seungmin #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz royal au #stray kids seungmin #skz series #3racha #skz fluff #skz smut #kpop skz #kpop imagines #skz angst #skz romance

[mrsmikaelson]

I do not want to lose you

Summary: Ever since they met, the Harvest Witch has regarded the Original Noble's wife as a mother figure.

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

" Are you sure it will work? I mean you are pregnant by a miracle." Davina said trying to hold back the tears

"Absolutely not, but we will have to try, I will pass your spirit into my body and mine into yours so I die in your place. Thanks to the witches when I was a baby, every time I die I live. Kind of a strange sleep" Y/N Said like it was the most normal thing in the world

"Does Elijah know?"

Only that question that remained unanswered gave Davina the answer. The Original had no knowledge of anything

"this won't work... If he finds out he'll be disappointed, angry, whatever "

"Is that our only option, or do you want to die and not know if you'll come back?" Original wife said

"I don't want to lose you, since you met me when you went to get Elijah back from Marcel, you have become a mother, better than my biological mother"

"You won't lose me Davina, I'll wake up within twenty four hours but I'll wake up and in the meantime: take good care of my miracle"

"Will I be able to tell Elijah? Otherwise he'll kiss me or he'll think you're you... Not that I'm averse to it but it would be weird" Davina asks, hugging the older woman as if her life depended on the hug

"You can tell everyone but make sure curious ears don't hear. See you soon little one"

The harvest would take place, the body swap spell was done now Y/N was in the witch's body, Sophie with the knife ready to cut the supposed girl's throat

"Do you believe in the harvest?"

" I believe"

With just those words everything happened quickly, Davina couldn't look even if she was safe in Y/N's body, there was an important person for her who sacrificed herself , when none of the four girls were resurrected, everyone was worried because they had faith that it would work

Hours later when only the Mikaelsons were in the compound, all attention turned to Y/N / Davina

"I have something to tell you about" With a heavy sigh she took courage " How shall I say this? Davina and I switched bodies.

Klaus was the first to laugh, thinking it was a joke.

" tell another joke please Y/N "

"No joke Klaus, she saved me from possibly not coming back"

Elijah, who until then had been too quiet, spoke out

"So, when did we get married?"

" It's also tell us: what are our nicknames that only Y/N calls us when we're alone without nosy people?" Bekah added

Minutes passed when the realization hit everyone: really Y/N sacrificed herself

"She said she'll wake up in twenty-four hours"

"It's to think that our brother almost kissed you earlier"

"Let's leave the caresses for when your wife is in her original body." Klaus Said Giving a light pat on his brother's shoulder

"Meanwhile, Davina will be treated like a queen and after that she will be under our protection and we will owe her a favor in return. She is protecting the next Mikaelson, my son"

"I promised her I would take care of him and I will keep my promise Elijah

A/N: I'm used to writing on Wattpad so I don't know if this size is good but I hope you like it

#always and forever #the originals #davina claire #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #thank you

[gav-san]

A Vintage Bouquet | 3/5 | Mihawk x reader

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk / Fem Reader

Length: 3/5 Chapters

Summary: Trapped in a monastery and threatened with an impending marriage, you'll strike any deal with a Pirate to escape what your father has in store for you.

Previous/Next

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no!

That pirate had run off. 

You clench your fists, turning to regain your footing. That swordsman can’t have gotten far, you reason, pivoting to give chase. So what if he was ice incarnated, a being of demon strength, and deep down scared the bloomers off you?

He had been paid, and now he would pay up in whatever way, shape, or form. You stagger to the end of the ally, where the light of the lanterns is now in full glow, leaving the safety of the dark to trek toward the docks.

You would not let that man take your wine and then just leave! Men eye you warily, especially when they see the blood on your shirt and the mindless way you scheme revenge on one captain with a too-poofy feather in his hat.

“That sonofanogoodmother-” You grind, clenching your jaw, but are sharply tugged out of your dashing by a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Miss nun.” You clench your jaw so hard it pops, sweat rolling down your cheek. 

“You have the wrong person.“ You say with a low grunt, moving to try to dart away. But the grip the Rear Admiral presses so hard you curl back in pain.

“Jacobson.” You practically hiss. 

Nonononononononono!

That no good swordsman son of a gun had probably told on you! You cursed him to the depths, something deep inside your chest reminding you that you had decided to trust a man so clearly a pirate.

And now you’d pay the price.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your wedding?” The Rear Admirals says, moving to face you and diverting you from your course. You swallow back a whimper as the shipyard is cut off from view. 

Your feet stumble on the old cobblestone as you are pulled along. 

You may as well jump in a wedding dress at this point. You’ve been scammed not only of wine but also of your entire future.

You are pulled straight into the local registrar's office, the Rear Admiral’s Grip, not giving an inch to give you a chance of escape. Luckily, only a secretary is there, who knows better than to do anything other than raise a brow and return to her book.

Even your best, miserable looks don’t shake her apathy. 

Jacobson waves you to a spare desk, practically sitting you down. You set the barrels down, giving a chagrined huff at the audacity. You hope he can tell how sore your arms are from the manhandling.

Your only chance is to plead with the Rear Admiral, a man known more for gossiping and enjoying the misery of others than doing actual work.

“So what exactly are you doing, Miss Celestial bride?” Jacobson asks, sitting in his chair and leaning back to swing his feet up. His eyes sparkle with unspoken mischief, clearly deciding what path would be most entertaining for him to take here. The Rear Admiral was always looking to stir up drama and passionately loved being a busybody.

“Rear Admiral.” You say, folding your arms to gesture at the wine. “Just making a delivery.” You attempt to brush some blood off your shirt, only managing to smear it in a delightful swoop. “There were some complications.”

“Hmph.” He gives a gruff laugh. “So you weren’t planning a last-minute escape and planning to bribe a captain with stolen church wine?”

You try not to shift too much, clearing your throat.

“Of course not.”

“I got a call from the monastery just five minutes ago,” Jacobson says with a lazy brow raised, “They’re in a real tizzy to find you. And the wine. They paid a lot for my best vintage, you know.”

“Shall I call them sir?” The secretary nods to the snail on her desk, matching her stiff glasses and suit attire.

You pressed your lips together, taking a breath. Your arms fold over themselves, the rough fabric of your stolen shirt chafing you.

This situation was getting even worse.

Very bad.

The Admiral grins.

“What do I have to do for you to pretend you never saw me today?” You say, feet digging into the ground as you rise to plant your hands before him.

The Rear Admiral laughs, putting a hand to his head.

“You think you have anything better than what your father can give me?” He chuckles, heels clicking on the wooden desktop. The secretary made a noise in her throat, making him sigh, and put his feet back on the ground. 

You know what he wants.

A dramatic story or something equally intriguing to talk about may intrigue him. Your lips pressed together, and you decided to fudge the truth.

Just a tad.

“I’m… eloping.” You say, throat turning dry. “To, uh, my secret fiancé.”

The Rear Admiral had the audacity to laugh in your face.

“The fake one in your books?”

“It’s-It’s- NOT LIKE THAT!” You attempt to correct him, fumbling a bit. “I’ve found the real man I want to marry!” 

“How convenient it is to find the one thing that would stop your marriage to a Celestial Dragon.” He said dryly. “Another marriage. ” 

You take a breath. 

“Yes.”

“I’m supposed to believe you so happened to find love right before your arranged wedding?” He says with a smirk.

You bite your lip, turning to lie to the Rear Admiral as you could potentially be a naive young woman who happened to fall in love. 

“It’s true! He’s a swordsman who fell in love with me at first sight, and I fell for him! He saved my shoe, and we both knew we were soulmates!” You squeaked. “We’ve already consummated our love!”

Jacobson gave a dry laugh.

“So what does this fantasy suitor look like?” He poked, and you huffed. “Does he even have a name?”

You lean forward, feeling very aggressive. 

Maybe you couldn’t turn this around. But like hell, you would just let that pirate off the hook. If you were going to be dragged back to the monastery, you were dragging his name through the mud with you.

He may have taken your wine, dignity, and freedoms, but chances were he’d never be allowed back in this side of the trading routes again for messing with a Celestial Dragons bride. He’d have to own up to that. 

You raise your voice, doing your best to give an impression of the guy.

“He is enormous, over six and a half feet, and has a giant sword! Dark hair, piercing yellow eyes! Has a hat with a white feather!”

The Admiral stopped short.

“Pardon?” He says quietly.

You go on, feeling you may be gaining some ground.

“His name is Dracule. He’s excellent with all his swords.!”

And then the secretary paused.

“Dracule… Mihawk?” The Admiral says carefully, as if each word is a hammer hitting an anvil. The swordsman held some respect, perhaps a regard you can leverage. “Is this…your… forbidden lover?”

You doubt it’s to your credit that he knows of the stranger, but you have no choice but to gamble.

And like lightning, you finally have the secretary's attention. Her head snaps up so quickly you’re surprised it doesn’t pop off. Jacobsen’s eyes flash up at the window behind you, a strange look crossing his face. You don’t notice, hands clenching the chair hand.

You narrow your eyes. The name fits, and you can’t help feeling like you are missing something important.

But you’re too far into this lie to back down.

“On both of our honor, I swear it!” You stand, hand to your chest. “That we have promised to be married!” And since you are indeed a stupid, reckless fool bent on escaping at any cost, you doubled down.

Jacobsen gapes like a fish.

You put your hands on your hips as you push down the truth, climbing in your throat.

“Now you see why I was trying my best to be quiet! I cannot, with a clean conscience, marry another when my body has been used and known by another! My, I could very well be carrying a baby now! Would you like to be held responsible for such a debacle?”

Your statement was undoubtedly in the realm of absurdity, but who would refute it? You lean in with a weighty frown.

“Are you truly trying to convince me that Dracule Mihawk,” the Rear admiral paused for emphasis, brown raised high in disbelief, “is your lover?”

You paused.

“Yes.” You declared firmly.

The entire room is silent for a moment. Only the creak of the wind hitting the door rings, but you don’t back down from glaring at the Rear Admiral.

“If this is the truth, he will be required to take responsibility for you,” Jacobsen says, a ruthless grin splitting his face as he rises from his seat. “And he’d vouch for your feelings?”

You go to answer resoundingly but are cut off by a frigid voice with a tone that could split mountains in two.

“Rear Admiral.” 

You try and hide your flinch.

A familiar cold voice says, seeming to answer that question. “It seems you found my… monastery girl.”

“Ah,” Jacobsen says, moving to give up his seat, but the encroaching figure whose shadow looms over you doesn’t move, merely places a hand on the chair rail behind you, knuckles brushing your shirt. “So you are at least acquainted with Miss Gabrielle. And seeing how she forcefully brought a Warlord of the Sea’s honor into question, it would be wise of me to clear up this situation.

You take a deep breath, noting the frozen expression of the secretary who was openly staring at the debacle before her. 

The extent of how deeply you have genuinely muddled up descends on you like cherubim from hell. 

Stuck away in the Monastery, you have heard the names of the Seven Pirates—the terrors the Navy permits to roam unaccosted on the high seas in exchange for their… services. As a Celestial Dragon, your father even spoke of them occasionally. But you weren’t intimately familiar with their names that you’d recognize them, say, if they ended up conversing and agreeing with you that they betrayed, leading you to smear their name. Only now did the name, in context, click.

Dracule Mihawk.

One of the most fearsome Warlords in the Navy and, undoubtedly, the world's most renowned swordsman.

You don’t turn, despite the fact you should be thrilled your ‘fiance’ has found you. No, that tone of anger was hardly one that would soothe you. You’d almost certainly live longer there after having insisted that Dracule Mihawk was your sorted lover, causing an international incident involving powers far beyond you.

Anyone who had helped you could be executed at his discretion, and you doubt he’d care a wink.

And you slandered his name like he was some common ruffian. Your chest should have collapsed in on itself with the sheer audacity your words have spread. You don’t dare look up at him; your chest compresses itself. 

You glance back.

The look Mihawk drills into your head will give you nightmares for decades. You do your best to pretend that you are, in fact, part of the chair, even when the Warlord comes up right behind you, placing two swarthy hands on your shoulders. 

The weight of his hands pulled you down to sit as if that would lessen the weight of your crimes. The vomit in your stomach flies to your throat. The world seems to go dark, the air gone from your lungs. 

You were sure that you would pass out.

His hand settles on your shoulder as warm air swathes your ear, Mihawk’s voice low.

“Breathe. It would be troublesome for you to faint.”

Your breathing momentarily hitches at the motion, at odds with what you thought his first line of action would have been. Your head ending up on a platter, detached from the rest of your body, is more like what you deserved.

You may have been slowly dying in that chair, but the Rear Admiral was thrilled. 

“Mihawk!” He motioned to the door, “What a curious situation! I can see we have much to talk about!”

You cringe as fingers press into your shoulders. 

“Indeed.” The man behind you says, and everyone can hear the annoyance in his voice.

–X–

People make mistakes. It’s part of living that crap happens, and circumstances change, and there have been many times in your life that you made a poor choice and had to own up to it.

But typically, a person's mistakes can be mitigated and damage modified. 

However, attempting to manipulate a greatly feared pirate warlord, also known as the best swordsman in the world, was not a mistake. Accidentally compelling the said Warlord pirate to marry you, lest his honor be besmirched at your baseless accusation, was almost certainly life-ending. 

Being married to one of the Seven Terrible Warlords of the Sea in the shotgun wedding was beyond the pale. 

And yet, spending your unexpected wedding getting glared down by said Warlord was worse than anything that had preceded it. 

It is an entirely new level of horror that has yet to be categorized.

You supposed, sitting in a corner of the barde, you wouldn’t be surprised if he lifted himself off his throne-like chair and kicked you into the sea for the trouble. Maybe he knew that his unhappy presence was akin to death, as his glare was like the weight of an anchor.

Suffice it to say that such a wedding night was unpleasant.

But as the moon's light caught the black water below you, a sliver of anger grew in your chest. After all, this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been a pirate and made off with your wine! How were you supposed to know that the guy hadn’t reneged on his promise when he disappeared out of the blue?

He could have said something and saved a lot of drama. But if there was one thing to be said, Dracule Mihawk was good to his word. 

He didn’t leave you. Even it meant he had been pushed to sign wedding papers to prove such a thing.

Even so, as you glanced back at the man who finally decided to close his fearsome eyes and end your torment, he hadn’t hurt you. 

He just chose the most horrible, embarrassing option to torment you with by going through with the lie, probably deciding to kill you later.

Committing to the bit was a matter of a marriage license, two flourishes from an ink pen, and a witness signature. His cold gaze was so powerful you didn’t have it in you to do anything but exactly as he stated.

Even the Rear Admiral had only dared ask one question as Mihawk threw you over his shoulder as if to insult your early assumptions of abandonment. His tone did little to hide his irritation, but his grip wasn’t painful. You assumed the strongest swordsman in the world could do much worse.

“Where are you going now?”

Mihawk’s voice cut like ice.

“Home.” 

You hadn’t realized how painful a fake honeymoon could sound, but now you know you had escaped the frying pan only to fling yourself directly into the fire.

But still alive, you watched as the sun slowly rose and Dracule Mihawk’s ship made its way through the water.

Two days pass in this manner. Mihawk promptly ignored you, and you pretended not to exist, trying not to stroke his anger. 

How does one begin a conversation sailing on a coffin, newly married to a husband almost sure to kill them?

One doesn’t.

One instead sits in a corner, hoping the man forgets they are there.

Your throat is dangerously dry, and your stomach gurgles in protest, but you refuse to open your mouth to tempt fate. And it’s not until night on the second day when Mihawk breaks the silence.

“Monastery girl.” His voice doesn’t sound dehydrated, and you bubble with jealousy. You slowly turn to look at the man, who isn’t to look your way. Instead, his golden eyes stare at the ocean ahead as if he can see something you can’t.

You clear your throat. “...Sir?”

He lifted a leg, crossing a booted foot over the other.

“You’re alive. At least you managed that much.” You cringe at his words. “Now that our little game is about to end, I think it’s clear I have no intention of claiming you as a wife. But I’d decided that you are worth more alive than gone.”

“Sir?” You say, a touch of hope that you may live appearing in your voice.

“My part of our deal is done.” He speaks frankly, if not a little bored. “We’ll be parting in less than a week. We’ll pass some treacherous waters, and it’ll be bothersome if you pass out.”

Standing, you brush down your salty clothes. 

“Yes. Thank you.” You say, giving a bow. “I’m grateful for your extremely kind help, especially for a pirate…Warlord.”

He provides a scoffing laugh, and you tilt your head in confusion. You give you that look where he stares into your soul uncomfortably. 

“I intend to ensure that you now repay your debt to me. I’m not going to let you off so easy.” 

You flinch, blinking as he folds his hands together.

“Debt?” You say again, not quite sure what he means, “Aren’t we to part ways? Never see one another again?”

“Hardly.” He grunts, “You can work off the debt you accrued by taking my name and forcing my honor to ensure your well-being.”

You step forward, fists balling together.

“And what can a mere noblewoman do to pay off such a debt?” You say, frustrated that freedom was pinched out of reach.

“I'll consider us even if you can manage to do some basic errands I have. Restoring a garden for one.”

You gasp.

“That could take me years-”

“It will take a long time for the marriage document rumors to run their course.” He says frankly. “This is the consequence of your reckless words.”

“You were the one who left me without a word! If you had kept your word-” 

Mihawk stood, rising to his full height. You find yourself barely reaching his chest, courage gone, as a finger flicks your chin to look him in his eyes. His bare chest makes your head feel dizzy.

“Frankly, my dear, you are now a target. I have little desire to keep you with me as I sail, but If I set you free and you are slain, my reputation will be slandered, which would be irksome. Every little worm will try and challenge my title, and I don’t have the patience for that.” 

You gulp.

Worse, he had a point. No doubt there were at least two Celestial Dragons eager to put a hit on you. You are surprised you hadn’t thought of such a thing in the first place.

Your throat goes dry as the Warlord stands, the giant sword seamlessly being planted on his back in a well-practiced swoop. He strolled past you, not bothering to give you a passing glance, that damned feather in his hat fluttering.

“Name all your terms.” You say tiredly. “No more tricks.”

“Housekeeping.” He says, with no change in his expression. “I am often away, and my home, my garden, and the island’s inhabitants require constant attention. I shall be gone for months at a time. If you can manage not to die or, worse, sully my home, then you may stay. I'll ensure your safety if you can produce a decent wine.”

You couldn’t come up with a retort, and Mihawk turned, moving to the back of his boat where he kicked open a hatch you hadn’t even noticed.

“But…” Your throat burns when he pulls out a chunk of bread and a large waterskin. He drops them into your hands as he returns to his perch.

“Drink.” He commands, “As I see it, I’m doing you a large favor.”

“A favor?” You say drily, but unable to resist, you drink the water and cuddle the bread to your chest. Mihawk watches the trail of clear liquid roll down your chin, scoffing.

The man slung one long leg over the other, hands placed together. 

“Go rest in the hammock below. I tire of seeing that forlorn expression on a woman.”

You don’t have the willpower to resist and stumble to the hatch below. It won’t strike you until later that this is likely the Warlord’s quarters. You fall asleep into the surprisingly soft bed before your head settles on the goose feather pillows.

You don’t even wake when Mihawk opens the hatch above, stepping down to watch your chest rise and drop in tandem with the waves above. With a simple flourish, he drapes a blanket across your body before leaving.

#dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #romance #onepiece #dracule mihawk x reader

[delopsia]

Blow Your Mind | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 7,900 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, who does briefly wear a skirt, aphrodisiac chocolates, oral sex, unprotected sex with two different men, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, anal sex (Rhett riding Bob), there is absolutely no plot to this one.

"They're just chocolates!"

"It says 'sex chocolates' right on the fucking packaging!" 

Rhett's not lying, either. Right on the front of the box, scrawled in hardly-legible cursive, lie the words 'Sex Chocolates,' with an even harder-to-read slogan of, 'they'll blow your mind.' 

Next to you, Bob shifts his weight, fingers tapping on the box of deceptively sweet box of chocolates that you've all just had a bite of. Sweet, tiny little things that disguised themselves as a run-of-the-mill assortment of chocolates until you'd caught a glance at the lid. Who would have thought bite-sized candies could be so devious?

They've already deceived the original attendees of Perry's so-called house party before it had gotten out of hand. When there were just fifteen people and not over fifty. When the house wasn't so packed that walking into another room was easy as breathing. The good old days, when Rhett and Perry's bickering wasn't drowned out by the worst choice of music you've ever heard.

"One little piece can't hurt us, right?" Bob murmurs, barely audible, over the thumping of the speakers. "We don't even know if it works." 

Shaking your head, "The serving size is half a chocolate per person." If only you'd seen this before you'd eaten the entire piece. When you still had the chance to decide if you wanted to play with aphrodisiacs or not. 

"Half?" His glasses are the only thing that can stop his eyes from bugging out of his head. "Rhett had more than one!"

And they've evidently made Rhett invisible, too, because he's completely disappeared from the kitchen. Leaving you and Bob alone with a kitchen full of strangers and the one and only Perry Abbott. The beloved son who absolutely will not get in trouble for raising his foot and kicking a hole into the drywall.

"Rhett?" You say it as if he can hear you; Bob can't even hear what you've said, and he's barely a foot away. 

He couldn't have gone far, not that quick. This house had might as well be a can of sardines, with how packed it is, but as you twist and turn, straining your neck to get a better look, you can't find him. Not with this crowd.

You'd jump if you weren't worried about your skirt catching on the air vent behind you. 

Leaning towards Bob, you raise your voice a little, struggling to be heard over the music. "Did you see him leave?" 

But Bob shakes his head, light bouncing off of his glasses as he does so, "I'll check and see if he went outside again."

"And I'll..." Your words die in your throat as you look out into the living room. 

You won't be finishing that sentence. 

There's no point; you can hardly even hear your own thoughts as you worm your way through the crowd. Between the raised voices and the obnoxiously loud music, it's a wonder that you don't develop a migraine during the time it takes you to walk from the kitchen to the couch. Or, at least, what used to be a couch. 

The cushions are missing; Cecelia's delicate decorative pillows lie in a heap in front of it, crushed beneath the sharp heels of a woman you've never seen before. You wonder what she'll be more upset about, those beloved pillows or the visible crack in the middle of the couch's frame, bowing inward. 

"Hey, girlie!" 

You don't recognize that voice, hardly even know which direction it's coming from, until an unfamiliar hand curls around your shoulder. 

Don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes, don't roll your—

"Hi, Maria." And you'll pretend you know the names of the two Tillerson brothers standing behind her. Wyatt and Luke or something. You hardly recognized the names Perry invited, but you know for a fact that these three were never invited. 

"I was hoping you'd seen Rhett around?" Twisting freshly manicured fingers through a lock of her hair, "he and I have some catching up to do." 

"Haven't seen him," brushing her cold hand from your shoulder, "you should try asking Perry."

Her eyebrows raise, "Perry? You want me to ask the one man Rhett doesn't like?" Here we go. "Do you even know Rhett?"

You know Rhett well enough to understand that his feelings about Perry aren't as black and white as one would think. Just like you also know him well enough to recall that he's got a birthmark on the underside of his cock, but that doesn't contribute much to this conversation, now does it?

"Who cares if they know Rhett or not," the older of the two brothers says, and you're pretty sure that this one is Luke Tillerson, "what I care about is getting to know them a little better."

"You don't look like you're from around here," the youngest speaks overtop of Maria, and you can't say you're upset that you missed out on what she had to say, "where you from?"

Fighting the urge to sound surprised. "What gave it away?"

"You're too pretty to be from around these parts." He says it so quickly that you almost wonder if he's been planning that for some time now. Bold, straight to the point, no if's and's or buts about it.

Even from a few feet away, you can smell the alcohol on his breath, something strong that has you fighting the urge to wrinkle your nose and put more distance between the two of you. "I'm sorry, I don't—"

"Rhett!" Maria's eyes light up like a goddamn disco ball, absolutely sparkling. 

Your only indication that Rhett's behind you is the hot breath tickling the back of your neck and the nose that bumps into your head in the way that it always does. Hands appear on either side of your waist, gently urging you to step away from this conversation you've been roped into.

Maria's talking, mouth moving a million miles an hour, but Rhett can't hear it. Her dwindlings about how she hasn't seen him in oh so long do nothing but illicit the laziest 'uhuh' you've ever heard from your cowboy. 

You know that high school crushes tend to die hard, but damn, you don't think he even smiles at her as he carts you away. One arm loops around your waist, just about crushing you into his side as he forces his way through the unwelcome crowd. 

"Rhett?" You chirp, stumbling as you fight to keep up with his pace. 

No dice.

Maybe something's happened because Rhett doesn't seem to hear you either; just keeps marching along like a soldier headed into battle. Right for the stairs, damn near knocks a guy over in his quest to head up them. 

He doesn't acknowledge the profanities that man spews as he passes by, either. 

Nobody is upstairs, much to your surprise. You'd really expected someone to have snuck off to one of the many bedrooms up here, but the doors are all wide open, seemingly untouched. If Rhett wasn't practically dragging you down the hallway, maybe you'd be able to tell for sure. 

"Rhett!" You try again, heels digging into the hardwood floor. That little protest should have been enough to at least cause his stride to falter. 

It does nothing. 

Rhett damn near hauls you into his bedroom, protest unacknowledged as he points towards his bed, "Sit." Then, pausing, "Please." A little softer now, starkly different from how he kicks the door closed.

Your feet move on their own, carrying you over to his soft, plush bed. Such a shame that Royal and Cecelia bought him a new one after he moved out. The moment you've settled on the bed, Rhett takes two steps forward and drops. 

Knees hit the floor with a painful thunk that you're certain the guests downstairs heard, but you can't pay it any worry. Not when there are hands running up your thighs, familiar eyes peering up at you from between your legs. 

"Rhett?" Trying once more. "Are you alright?"

His curls bounce as he nods his head, "uhuh." And he'd probably say more if he weren't kissing on the inside of your knee. A soft pressure that tickles all the way up your thighs. Adds fuel to the fire already kindling in your core. Up, up, up, tongue leaving a wet trail that catches in the dull lighting of his bedroom. 

The blunt tip of his nose bumps into your panties, and almost instantaneously, those eyebrows raise, "You got wet for me pretty fast, doll." 

Abnormally fast. You don't remember a time when you've ever been squirming so quick—

oh. 

Wait. 

"Chocolates," you breathe, voice barely there, "it was those fucking chocolates."

A hot tongue laves across the front of your panties, darkened blues peering up at you, "So it's not just me then, hm?" Rhett's always been eager, but he's never been so eager that his idea of foreplay shortens to nothing but a few kisses and licks. You don't think he's ever bypassed an opportunity to steal kisses. 

And if that singular chocolate really did affect you...

"Rhett," it's the only thing that'll get his attention again, and even then, it doesn't stop him from hooking his fingers under your waistband, "...how many did you have?"

Pause, just long enough for a single thought to cross his pretty little mind. "Three." And then down come your panties, skirt left snug around your hips because he's developed an obsession with how it moves when you squirm.

He doesn't even have the patience to get the garment past both your feet, letting them dangle from your left ankle in exchange for leaning back in quicker. Downright diving between your legs, hot tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt like a man starved.

"Rhett—!"

Those eyes flutter shut, the hem of your skirt bunching up against his nose as he spreads you open with a rumbling hum. Doesn't seem to hear you repeat his name, only hums again when you curl your fingers in his messy hair and tug. 

"Taste so good," speaking directly into your sex, deep voice rattling up your spine, "'m s'prised I could wait to get you upstairs."

There's a soft pressure at your entrance, delicately opening you up with that wet muscle, just enough to feel you involuntarily squeeze around him. Then up, up, up, until he can swirl around that rapidly swelling bud that he loves to abuse, yanks a gasp out of your throat when he wraps his lips around it. 

"You're gonna suffocate yourself," struggling to keep your balance when big palms settle on the backs of your thighs, lifting them until they're hooked over those wonderfully broad shoulders. "Rhett."

A familiar belt buckle jingles, "Keep whinin' my name like that 'n I'm gonna cum, doll."

That zipper of his goes down in tune with his tongue, and that shaky gasp into your cunt is all you need to know that he's grasped himself through the thin material of his boxers. Those eyes of his open, downright black as he falls back into his rhythm, stroking himself in perfect synchrony with his devilish tongue. 

Surprise suction on your clit has your thighs clamping around his face, "Rhett." Repeating his name like it's the only word in the dictionary. Shit, if you don't loosen your legs—

"Don't you dare," and even though he drags your legs right back to where they were, you get the feeling that it's not enough for him. Not until he can drown himself in you. 

He's leaning forward, downright drooling as he hungrily laps at you, has you bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. There are people in this house, people who can hear right through these paper-thin walls. The whole damn house can probably hear how his belt chimes as he strokes his leaking cock, breathing heavily into your pussy because he can't breathe but is too addicted to quit now.

Footsteps thump outside the door.

The very unlocked door. 

But before you can fight off a whimper and get a word out, the knob begins to twist. Stuns you into silence while Rhett laps noisily at your entrance, unbothered by the slowly opening door behind him. One look at the frame creeping inside is all it takes for your shoulders to drop, tension rushing out just as quickly as it appeared. 

Bob holds a finger to his lips, locking the door behind him.

"Fuck," your body jolts as Rhett's tongue pumps into you once more, "just like that." Words just loud enough to conceal the creaking of hardwood as Bob settles behind Rhett, something devious flashing through his soft features. He's reaching forward, around Rhett's hip...

"Ah!" Poor cowboy damn near comes out of his skin, just about jumps out from between your legs like he's been burned. 

One firm arm barricades over Rhett's heaving chest, anchoring him down; between his legs, Bob's hand remains firm, grasping the base of that pretty, flushed cock. Before Rhett can start fussing, though, Bob's talented hand begins to move in such a way that all it takes is one stroke before Rhett's hips are squirming, chasing after the feeling. 

Bob's chin hooks over Rhett's shoulder, glasses glinting in the light, "surely you didn't think I wouldn't find you, sugar."

Rhett huffs, loud and exaggerated, "Wasn't tryin' to avoid—hah!" Even from here, you can see the whites of Bob's knuckles, hand firmly squeezing the base of Rhett's cock. "Figured you'd...figured you'd know where we went."

"Is that it?" Bob's hand doesn't move; if anything, you think he's squeezing a little tighter, "and it's got nothing to do with your crippling impatience?"

Eyelashes flutter, gaze dropping. "...'m sorry." Adam's apple bobbing as Bob's teeth tease the shell of a very, very red ear. "Couldn't wait for you to come back inside." 

There it is. 

Slowly, Bob's hand loosens, gives an experimental stroke that sends Rhett gasping so sharply it echoes. He's squirming, head tilting back to rest against Bob's firm shoulder, mouth agape as Bob messes with him. Can't seem to see how dark those pale blue eyes have become, how they threaten to swallow you whole without a second thought. 

"Y'gonna listen to me, sugar?" There's a twinge of that old accent in Bob's words, fighting to come out and remind you of his Texas roots. 

Licking his lips, Rhett nods his head. His lips move, but nothing quite comes out. 

Just like that, Bob's attention flickers back up to you, briefly catching on the wetness between your legs. "Still wantin' both of us to fuck you, peaches?" He's not even halfway through his question before you're nodding your head. "On your back."

Classic. If given the opportunity, you could have predicted he'd say exactly that. Already know that he's about to settle behind you, resting his back against the headboard because he's got an unofficial thing for watching you fall apart and then having his way with you. But even as Bob does just that, creeping up behind you like it's the first time he's ever done it, Rhett doesn't move from the floor. 

"What happened, cowboy?" Bob's smile evident in his tone, "Afraid of what'll happen if you cum first?" 

All of a sudden, Rhett's moving, rising up from the floor and crawling onto the foot of the bed without so much as a ghost of a complaint. One of his hands disappears into a back pocket, returning with a familiar packet of lubricant that he tears open with his teeth. Must get some on his tongue because his nose wrinkles at the taste.

"How's that taste?" Behind you, Bob chuckles while his hands move on their own accord. Fingers stroking past your shoulders and down to the thin shirt concealing your breasts from his greedy gaze, nothing more than a tickling touch for the time being. 

You can hear how Rhett strokes the lubricant over himself, wet little noises accented by his inward gasp, "like shit." The last thing you expect is two wet fingers nudging at your entrance, gently pushing in. Completely unnecessary; you can tell by how easily those thick fingers push inside that you don't need it. That and...

"Do you not remember this morning?" Huffing when those wandering digits intentionally avoid a particular spot, "or last night? When you fools used spit for lube?" 

Lips press against your temple. Is that stubble you're feeling on Bob's chin? "You were limpin' all mornin'." 

You'd be asking more questions if you weren't distracted by the new development on Mr.I-Don't-Get-Stubble's face. 

Just as quickly as those fingers pushed into you, they're pulling out in favor of two big hands pushing your legs up, a familiar frame settling between your thighs. On its own, Rhett's heavy cock smacks against your dripping core, sends your body jolting. 

A giggle ripples out of you, cut short by the sensation of a plush cockhead beginning to press into you. It's only been eight or so hours since your shower escapades, but you can already feel the uncomfortable stretch as that obnoxiously thick cock of his opens you back up. Did those chocolates make him bigger? Because fuck, you think he's gotten bigger.

One of Bob's hands slips beneath your shirt, spanning out over your chest, "breathe, sweetie." 

Rhett's hands on your hips are the only thing preventing you from squirming away completely, anchoring you down while he splits you wide. You can hardly recall when you closed your eyes, but you're afraid to open them and see how much of this cowboy you have left to take. 

The cold metal of his belt buckle presses against your inner thigh, and finally, finally, you feel him bottom out. Even now, you're afraid to open your eyes, fearing there's still more of him you haven't taken yet. It takes a moment for you to pry them open. And when you do. 

It's been a while since the last time you saw Rhett's face so flushed, unusually pink in the cheeks, sweat already beading at his forehead. Involuntarily, your muscles clench down around him, and he shudders.

Laughter bubbles out of you. "Am I that good, or is it just the aphrodisiac getting to you?" 

It's the aphrodisiac. You know it's the aphrodisiac, but when he shyly admits that you're the cause of his unraveling, you can't help but find yourself believing him. Higher thought process be damned. 

One more involuntary clench and those hips begin to move on their own accord; short, choppy thrusts that rock your body up and down the mattress more than anything. But hell, does it send microscopic tingles rippling up your core, dancing all the way up to where Bob's wandering hands have begun toying with your breasts. Thumbs feather-light as they toy with your nipples, barely there. 

"Rhett, if you don't—"

"'m sorry," those hips drawback, far enough for you to catch how the base of him is downright dripping from your cunt, before pushing back inside with a dizzyingly loud squelch. Practically covers up the gasp he punches from you. 

One of Bob's hands leaves your chest, running down your belly and not stopping until two fingers can drag themselves through the wetness between your legs. Splaying out around Rhett's gradually quickening cock, feeling the thin ring of muscle that can barely accommodate your hung cowboy. 

"Jesus, sweetheart," Bob's lips tickle the side of your head as he speaks, "drippin' like a damn faucet, ain't you?"

The big hands on your hips drag you down into the next thrust, skin audibly smacking against skin. Sends your eyes rolling back into your head, unable to come down even as Rhett withdraws again. 

"Grippin' me like a fuckin' vice," he gasps in between his devilish motions, angle shifting, searching for—

Your back rises up from the bed, sparkles twinging the edges of your vision. Whatever noise brewing in your throat becomes lodged, not a sound coming out of your parted lips. Even when Rhett lets go of your hips in favor of leaning back and bracing himself against the mattress, smooth thrusts pummeling into that tingling bundle of nerves over and over and over.

"Is that the spot, sweetie?" Bob murmurs directly into your ear, "Or is there another part of you needin' some love, too?" 

As if to feed into his point, his fingers rise, ghosting over your neglected, swollen clit. Barely there, a taunting whisper of what could be. Rhett's got your legs too far apart for you to gain any leverage on the bed, can't buck up into his teasing touch in the way you want to. Stuck taking whatever they choose to give you. 

And when you do find the strength to rise up into his touch, it vanishes completely. Has you grumbling and unintentionally clamping down on the cock pumping in and out of you with its devilishly wonderful rhythm.

Rhett's eyes roll back into his head, eyelashes fluttering, "g'nna make me cum if you keep doin' that, doll." Just the thought has you spasming around him again, draws a whine right out of his throat. The thick head of his cock hits the gooey spot inside your cunt just a little harder, a little quicker. Enough to have you gasping. Not enough to fuel the fire burning in your lower belly. 

You haven't given Bob his answer, but his fingers return, close enough for your clit to brush against them every time Rhett fucks into you. Still holding out. Waiting on a response to a question you've already forgotten.

"Please," strained, barely spilling off your tangled tongue. 

That's all it takes for the pad of Bob's thick index finger to kiss that little button. Drenched in an instant, swirling in tune with those shaky thrusts. Something warm blossoms between your legs. Familiar, racing up your spine and up into your face. Strangles you of whatever oxygen you have left, has your breath quickening for something you can't quite catch. 

Rhett's hands return to your hips, barely capable of holding onto you as he fights to maintain those twitchy movements, crumbling right before your very eyes. Curls hang low in his flushed face, bouncing back and forth. "'m gonna cum, fuck, 'm gonna, 'm gonna—"

All of a sudden, he's drawing back. Just about out of you when Bob's hand flies off your clit. Tangles in Rhett's hair and yanks.  

Your vision whites.

Don't know if it's triggered by the wickedly sharp thrust that hammers into your trembling body. Or if it's the strangled cry that rips out of your cowboy. All you know is that your lungs are burning. Body going taut as you cum around Rhett's spasming cock. Mouth falling open with a noise you can't hear. 

The mattress has never felt so soft beneath your aching back. Maybe that's because you're finally laying flat against it and not against...

"Bob?" Your own voice feels foreign to your still-ringing ears. 

"I'm right here, sweetie," it doesn't occur to you that you've closed your eyes until after he surprises you into opening them. You don't recall feeling him slip out from behind you, but he's now standing by the side of the bed, stroking his hand through Rhett's tangled, messy hair. 

Rhett's yet to pull out of you, too focused on catching his breath, but an involuntary spasming of muscles has him hissing, squirming back until he can slip out of your spent pussy. His eyes narrow, darting up to the man petting his head, "Did ya have to pull my hair that fuckin' hard, flyboy?"

Bob's eyebrows raise. But he doesn't have to say a single word because Rhett's already muttering an apology, gaze falling into his lap. The hand in Rhett's hair runs down to take hold of that stumbled chin, manually tilting his head up. 

"You want to get on your knees for me?"

Even from where you lay, you can see the way Rhett's eyes light up at Bob's words, brighter than the lamp shining next to your head. Nothing needs to be said. He's already halfway to the floor, wood creaking beneath him as he kneels. 

"Sometimes I wonder if you've got an addiction to me," Bob muses, settling onto the side of the bed, attention flickering back to you, "that goes for you too."

Your foot kicks out, bumping him in the thigh, "me?"

There's a hidden deviousness in Bob's smile, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes. "You two literally flipped a coin to settle who got to suck me off first."

If that hadn't happened just last night, maybe you'd be able to defend yourself. 

Alas, the dull, barely there ache in your jaw keeps you quiet. Choosing instead to watch Rhett fumble with Bob's zipper, too shaky to get ahold of it for more than half a second until Bob caves and helps him. One hand disappears into his slacks, the other lands on the back of Rhett's head. 

The room may be dimly lit, but even the poor lighting cannot hide the angry red of Bob's plush tip as he finally draws himself out. Neither can it hide how Rhett practically drools as he parts his thin lips, too impatient to wait as he wraps them around Bob's length. A shiver visibly rattles up Bob's spine, head tilting back with what you can only identify as a silent moan.

"Do you think..." running his hand up your ankle, seeking something to hold onto, keep him from floating away, "do you think you can handle one more round?"

Despite his mouth being full of Bob's cock, Rhett's eyes tell you that he has no problem finishing this soft-spoken WSO off if you're not feeling up to the task. Reflex tells you that you probably aren't up to it, not with how you haven't been able to keep your hands off each other all weekend. The aphrodisiac still coursing through your system suggests that one more round is easy.

"I think so," licking your lips, "gotta see if these chocolates really work, right?"

They must be doing quite the number on Rhett because he's skipped foreplay again, forgoing the teasing kisses and licks, opting instead to dive right into bobbing his head. Taking a little more each time, he takes Bob's cock into his mouth, so utterly invested that his eyes have shut.

Bob's body jolts in that tell-tale way it always does when his cock hits the back of a plush, hot throat, "easy, boy," tightening his fingers in Rhett's hair, "don't choke yourself."

But Rhett's stubborn, defying that gently-worded order by hollowing his cheeks and pushing forward. Downright forces Bob's cock into his throat, visibly fighting his gag reflex as he holds him there. Just like that, Bob's once stoic demeanor crumbles, head dropping, hands flying up to brace his weight on Rhett's broad shoulders. 

On their own, the corners of your lips rise, a barely there smile that has Bob fighting the deep-rooted urge to close his eyes.

"Quit," his own words cut off by a loud gasp, jaw flexing with the effort it takes to fight off his own involuntary noises, "quit lookin' at me like that." 

"Why?" The exhaustion twinging at the edges of your psyche isn't strong enough to keep your mouth shut. "Afraid to admit that those little chocolates are getting to you?"

You can already hear that stuttered denial, and he hasn't even gotten the words out of his mouth yet. Words that you're sure would do nothing but dig him an even deeper grave to lie in. 

But he doesn't get to say them because Rhett finally plays his ace. 

Draws his head all the way back. Until he can open his mouth and let Bob's heavy cockhead rest against his tongue. Long enough to give the impression that he's catching his breath. Then dropping back down. Taking him as far as he possibly can. Nose just barely able to reach the fabric of Bob's slacks before he's being yanked back by the hand twisted in his hair. 

Bob cannot make a sound.

Cock spasming in the open air. Twitching. Teetering dangerously close to the edge of something he can't come back from. Nearly jumps away when Rhett's swollen lips wrap around him once more.

"Fuck," that whimpered word sounds so strange when it's coming from Robby, "hold...don't wanna cum yet." 

On the floor, Rhett grins. Doesn't say a word. Just grins. Too proud of his little stunt to do much else.

"Up here," Bob's hand idly pats the fraction of empty space next to you, a subconscious thing that he never realizes he does, "off the floor." 

It's hard telling if Rhett's huff is from the actual effort of dragging himself off the floor or if he's returned to his usual post-orgasm melodramatics, but he does as he's told. "Maybe I wanted to watch from the floor."

"Maybe I don't want you hobbling around tomorrow morning because you upset your knee again," Bob's watchful gaze is already fixated on that left knee. The one that swells when Rhett's been on it for too long and sits a little differently compared to his right one. One of many, many free bull riding trophies. 

While Rhett's settling down beside you, Bob's careful hands take hold of your hips, guiding you to roll over and drag your jelly-filled limbs up until you're on your hands and knees. Such a strange feeling, being crammed up on this full-size bed, Rhett looking up at you while Bob fumbles around from behind.

A cock smacks against your oversensitive clit, audible, wet little noises that seem to bounce off the walls. Over and over until you're squirming away from the assault of it. You'd probably wriggle halfway up the bed if it weren't for Rhett reaching up and planting a big hand on your shoulder, steadying you. 

Even now, with his hair splayed out beneath his head like a halo and his eyes clouded with something you can't yet identify, he still manages to look up at you like you're his entire world. You'd get to think more about it if there weren't a familiar pressure blossoming between your legs. 

And maybe you'd get to speak if you weren't silenced by an obscene squelch as Robby's cock slips into your exhausted cunt. Rhett's sheepish smile suggests that it's not just your own wetness creating such a sound, either. It hasn't been more than five minutes since Rhett was in you, and Bob's not that much bigger, but your aching walls are already stretching again, unable to do more than take what you're given. 

"Breathe, sweetie," Bob's fingers trail down your spine, tickling until you gasp, "just a little more."

Little by little, it becomes harder to breathe. Lungs burning for a full breath as inch by dizzying inch pushes into you; until your head is too heavy to hold up and your legs tremble with the effort to take him. Rhett's hand rises to stroke your cheek, a futile distraction from how you can just barely take Bobby's cock.

Until finally, fucking finally, his hips are flush against yours, nothing left for you to take. Teetering on the border of too much and just enough. 

Bob's fingers dance across your skin, stroking circles into your trembling hips, "how are you feeling, sweetheart?" 

"Full," it's hard to speak, words cut short by desperate gasps for air, "thank god those chocolates didn't make you bigger than you already are." 

"Careful," Rhett's chuckling before he even gets to the rest of his sentence, "Some say he's got a button in his thigh that'll make his dick longer than it already is." 

A yelp cuts through the air. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Babbling, his frantic hands smacking away the palm that's wrapped around his oversensitive cock. Body writhing, squirming further up the bed until Bob is forced to quit squeezing him. 

If you weren't in this position, you're sure you'd be able to lock eyes on the red birthmark hidden on Bobby's left thigh. Strawberry in color and concealed in the sensitive space of his inner thigh, so perfectly round that it almost looks like a button.

There's a comment brewing on your tongue. Teasing, meant to add fuel to the fire that Rhett's lit. But a careful roll of hips into yours has your thoughts going blank; unable to focus on anything other than the gentle drag of Bob's cock, shallow motions that do nothing but emphasize how fucking full you are. 

But just as quickly as he began moving, Bob freezes. "Did that hurt?" 

"No," pushing yourself backward until your hips are flush with his once more, "just move."

You can't see it, but you know that his cheeks pinken at that, has the audacity to blush as he pulls that big cock of his halfway out of you and push back in just a little quicker. Bashful to the core, even when his heavy balls audibly smack against your cunt. His hips twist, angle shifting every so slightly and—

"Fuck." 

And it's about the worst thing you could have ever done because now that Bobby's found it, he's not letting it go. 

Each snap of his hips rubs against that little bundle of nerves, punches a noise out of your throat. So sensitive that you can't keep yourself quiet anymore, the party raging downstairs long forgotten as your arms crumble, vision blurring. Head landing on Rhett's soft belly, clutching weakly at his shirt, thighs trembling, sliding out from beneath you.

"Those boys downstairs are lookin' for ya, Peaches." Bob's voice has dropped so deep that you can hardly recognize it, almost mistake him for Rhett. Only figure it out when he pulls you up by your hips, and you catch a glimpse of Rhett's unmoving mouth, "ain't got a damn clue you've got two different men mountin' this cute little pussy of yours." 

Your only response is to bury your face in Rhett's stomach, something, anything, to muffle yourself. 

Rhett's calloused fingers brush against the side of your face, drawing you to look up at him, "are those good tears, doll?" And the best you can do is nod your head, unable to stop the sniffle he wrings out of you when he cradles your cheek. 

One of Bob's hands falls off your hip, dropping down to wrap around Rhett's cock again. Gentler, this time, loose as it strokes up his half-hard length. Elecits a pitchy gasp from him that has you fluttering like a damn butterfly around Bobby's positioning cock.

"Can't tell which of you liked that more," Bob muses, chest brushing against your back as he curls around you. Closer, faster, quicker. Plush cockhead dragging against that sweet spot of yours with every fucking motion. Gives you no time to recover before he's hitting it again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't think.

"Bobby," Rhett's trembling voice wavers through the air, "don't you—fuck, don't you fuckin' rile me up again." 

But it falls on deaf ears. Even your barely open eyes can see how that hand quickens. Perfectly matches the short, choppy thrusts that plow into you. You can't hear the noises tumbling off your drooling tongue. Too busy drowning in the melodic whimpers being ripped out of the cowboy beneath you. Familiar heat blossoms in your belly once more. Rekindled by his whined beggings. 

Rhett's voice is barely strong enough to babble your name once. Twice. And then, "Make him stop, please, fuck, fuck—"

Without warning, your body goes taut. Muscles tremoring. Head spinning. Orgasm washing over you for the second time this hour. Don't know if it's tears that make your vision blurry. Or if you've gone cross-eyed. A loud ringing blossoms in your ears. For a moment, your head floats off your shoulders and up into the clouds. Weightless.

It feels like it takes hours for you to return to your exhausted body. Like waking up after a nap became a full night of uninterrupted sleep. 

And you almost wonder if you did fall asleep because you've entirely moved. 

Cuddled up to Rhett's now naked side while someone runs a frigid wipe between your legs, a futile attempt to clean up the sticky mess your boyfriends have so lovingly created. Only a long shower can fully wash it away, but you can't complain when the cold feels like heaven against your burning skin.

Rhett's right bicep flexes before your very eyes, busy with something between his legs. Messy hair clings to his sweaty forehead, lips bitten and swollen, gasping for a breath he can't quite catch. But his dripping cock lays neglected against his belly, angry red in color, bordering purple. 

Deep blue eyes flicker over to you, almost surprised to find you staring back, "Hey, darlin'," his voice shakes with the efforts of whatever is going on between his thighs, "you okay?" 

Smiling, borderline dopey, "very."

There's not enough room for Bob to sit next to you, and there's just barely enough space for him to sit on the other side of Rhett by his feet, but he manages all the same. His attention flickers up to you for a lingering moment, but wet little noises have him looking back to what Rhett's doing. What even is he...

oh.

Oh.

"Didn't you just cum?" 

Rhett nods, "Uhuh." Leg rising, then flunking back against the mattress, can't find the position he wants. "'n I keep fuckin' gettin' hard again." 

Your body begs you not to move, but you're pushing yourself up anyway. Too hungry for a familiar sight that you can't be bothered to pay attention to anything else. Rhett's legs part for you lets you catch a glance of the three thick fingers frantically pumping into his hole. Desperate, needy for something more. 

"It's a shame we didn't think to pack the strap-on," Bob mumbles, running his fingers up Rhett's pale, milky-white thigh. "And to think we almost didn't pack lube, either."

"I tried to pack it," Rhett twists, trying and failing to kick him, "you said we wouldn't need it." 

Admittedly, you three were only meant to be gone for a weekend. Not a whole damn week. But visits to Wabang never go according to plan, and yet, none of you ever think to pack according to past travel histories. 

"Actually, you know what?" Your cowboy's pulling his fingers out of himself, already beginning to sit up before they're even fully out, "you're the asshole who caused this. You're helping me out."

"Well, if you lay back and let me lube up my fingers..." Bob's idea of helping out must not be the same idea as Rhett's.

Because in one smooth motion, Rhett grabs him by the forearms and practically shoves him onto the bed. Can't even be bothered to wait for Bob to lay back before he's crawling into his lap, pouring another packet of lube in his hand and diving down to seize his oversensitive cock. Stroking, leaving him so wet that he shimmers.  

"Rhett!" Bobby fusses. "My refractory isn't...I just—I just came!"

"I warned you not to rile me up again," and that's all Rhett has to say before he's lining himself up and sinking down on that big, half-hard cock of Bobby's. His fingers weren't near enough prep for it, but it's hard to prep for that.

Bobby's already whimpering,  shaking palms pressing against Rhett's belly as he tries to push him off. But Rhett's got the upper hand, even when his mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he gradually pushes himself down, further and further. Bob's back hits the bed so hard that it jostles you and Rhett, surrendering to this problem he's caused. 

"You can't..." he pants, head thrashing back and forth, "you...you can't..." 

Sleep may be calling your name, but you're too distracted to answer it. Laying back on your side, running your hand up Rhett's heaving chest, just for a feel of those flexing muscles. Bob catches it on its way back down, practically disappears when he clutches it in his big palm. 

Rhett's barely even halfway down when he has to brace himself against Bob's chest, head dropping, broad shoulders shivering with the effort of taking Bob's cock. 

"Bite off more than you can chew?" Bobby teases as if the right joke will save him from the inevitable. "Hm?" Before Rhett can try to respond, Bob's squirming, rocking his body from side to side as he tries to shake the cowboy right off of him. 

The muscles of Rhett's thighs flex, squeezing Bob much like he would one of those fifteen-hundred-pound bucking bulls; hasn't ridden in over a year, but damn, has he not lost that talent. Hardly even sways, despite the efforts below him. 

Just as quickly as he'd started, Bob gives up, instead pawing at Rhett's forearm, unable to decide what he wants and if he wants it at all. All the while, Rhett's panting grows louder, trembling as he sinks further and further and further. You don't realize you've been holding your breath until Rhett's hips come flush with Bob's. 

This room doesn't have enough oxygen for the three of you.

"Too much," Bob's voice strained, "it's too...I can't..." You're not sure if he's aware of how he grinds up into Rhett's ass in those teasing little circles. The same ones that make your mind go blank.

Rhett's knees dig into the soft mattress, and slowly, his hips rise by an inch or so, then drop back down. Testing the waters, gradually working himself up to a lazy rhythm, eyebrows knitting with the effort of figuring out what he likes. Doesn't seem to hear how Bob babbles beneath him, letting go of your hand, over-sensitive. Fussing for him to stop, but hasn't broken out that trusty safeword yet. 

"Liar," Rhett huffs, the bed beginning to squeak, "can feel you gettin' hard in me."

Like a live wire, his body jolts; finally found his prostate. Chases it but can't quite handle it when he hits it again, arms crumbling out from under him. Hardly able to catch himself before his head knocks into Bobby's. 

For the briefest moment, their mouths meet, sloppy, panting too hard to properly lock their lips together. As soon as it breaks, Rhett's leaning over to you, steals a kiss before you've even realized what he's doing. Likewise, it's not until your hand has wrapped around his weeping cock that he realizes what you were reaching for. Grinds his movements to a screeching halt.

"No," there's a firmness to Bob's voice that wasn't there before, his knees rising as he plants his heels into the bed, "you're not stopping now, cowboy."

Despite it all, it's Bob who takes hold of Rhett's hips and pulls him up by a couple of inches, holding him there as he snaps his hips up. Skin smacking against skin, jerky, unpredictably quick thrusts that have Rhett crumbling.

"There," he sputters, hair bouncing with Bob's movements, "there, there, there."

Tightening your hand on his cock, stroking properly now. So close, already, mouth hanging open, once deep voice now a shadow of what it once was as Bob fucks into him with an inch of his life.

 It takes a moment to find your voice, but when you do, "You gonna cum, cowboy?" That pretty head nods, unable to give more than a meek "uhuh."

"Cum for me, Rhett," Bob gasps, words punctuated by every slam of his hips into Rhett's ass, "cum around my cock."  

Rhett's head tilts back, shimmering eyes rolling into the back of his head. White paints your hand, hardly enough to make a mess, cock spasming, twitching in your grasp. Beneath him, Bob goes still, absolutely silent. The fluttering of his eyes is your only indication that he didn't pass out. 

The only lucid one in this room, you reach over with your clean hand, wiping the stray tear out from under Rhett's eye, letting him lean into it. You don't know when the sniffles started, but now that they've started, it'll be a while before they stop.

"I know we agreed to spend the night over here," Bob croaks; it's a question of whether his mouth even moves or not, "but I think tonight is one of those nights where we would be better off in a hotel."

Rhett nips at your fingers as they drift away from his cheek, "I bet now you're glad I was too damn lazy to carry our luggage in."

Every ounce of your body would rather play a night of Tetris and try to squeeze all three of your frames into this old, full-size bed. Uncaring of the rowdy guests downstairs and of what could happen if the wrong person kicked in Rhett's old, questionably sturdy bedroom door. 

Alas, Bob is the word of reason, and you find yourself leaning into Rhett's side as you waddle back downstairs. An ache between your legs and Rhett with a hell of a limp; Bob is the only one of you remotely sane, even has the forethought to shove the bed comforter in the wash before stumbling out to the car to join you and Rhett.

You vividly recall the sight of Bobby crawling into the driver's seat because that's when Rhett leaned over and kissed your cheek first, just to get a rise out of your WSO. But the next time you open your eyes, you're lying in an unfamiliar hotel bed, surrounded by two very, very familiar bodies, whilst unidentified vehicles drive on your naked belly. Wheels tickle your skin as they venture further, vaulting over your breasts; Rhett crashes at your waistband, and Bob sticks a landing on Rhett's ass.

"Ow!" 

"That's what you get for riding me without enough prep."

"It wouldn't have been an issue if you weren't hung like a goddamn..." Rhett falls silent, suddenly aware that you're awake. Like a switch has flipped, his features soften, "good morning, baby doll."

Next to you, Bob's wracked with an earth-shattering yawn, "You feeling okay, peaches?" His nose is so cold that it almost distracts from the kiss he presses to your shoulder. Almost. "I don't think you even so much as stirred when I carried you in last night."

Last night...good lord. 

"Was last night real?" You're sure it was, but...wow. It feels like recalling a fever dream.

"The pain in my ass says yes," Rhett murmurs, fumbling with his toy car, "'m never touchin' chocolate again."

Bob parks his car on Rhett's ass in favor of draping his arm over you, "I'd still like to have a few words with Perry."

You have half the mind to take over for the now-abandoned toy, but you can't bring yourself to move even a muscle. Not sure if you even have the strength, actually. "What's stopping you?"

"Don't wanna..." another yawn overtakes him, "move."

Now it's Rhett's turn to yawn, squirming closer to you until he's able to throw his leg over top of yours. In a few hours, you're sure he'll have something more to say, hell to raise with Perry, a destroyed childhood home to fix, but for now, he's perfectly content to simply snuggle up. Driving his toy car up and down your belly until your conversation with Bob unravels into sleepy-eyed silence as well.

You really should move the toys before you fall asleep. Someone is inevitably going to roll overtop of one and wake up to a painful hunk of metal digging into their side. But that's going to be a problem that will be dealt with down the road when it happens. 

And maybe, just maybe, you'll make a well-informed chocolate purchase later in the afternoon. 

#rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #bob floyd smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #robert floyd #bob fucks #bob floyd x reader #outer range amazon #rhett abbott outer range #outer range #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun smut #oneshot #ao3 oneshot #ao3fic #smut #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbot #polyamory #rhett abbot x bob floyd #tw: food

[its-actually-minicika]

Aemond In Love

Note: A simple guide to Aemond's heart;

Warnings: None.

We needen't start off by saying Aemond had a rough childhood;

The deepest I can see him fall in love is with a person who's seen him for all that he is - for better or worse;

A childhood companion, who always jumped to his defense against the crude remarks that his brother and nephews laid on him. Who held onto his tiny hand when he sulked about not being good enough. Who always had something kind to say - to him, to anyone.

He craves for someone who is patient, but also incredibly head-strong: after he loses his eye, he will try his hardest to push his love away. He will rain insults upon her. About her status, her looks, her character, anything that he can think of.

He doesn't mean them. He never could mean them.

If you want own his heart forever, instead of turning your back to him, wait for the boy to calm down, stay silently by his side, until the scorching pain of his missing eye and the effects of the milk of the poppy both wear off;

Even so, Aemond would never be the same, and you would have to develop yet another crucial quality: perseverence.

The following year of accomodation promises a very difficult path to thread with Aemond: too much taken interest in his new hobbies, and he'll think of you a nuisance. Too much detachment from him, and you'll stray away from each other in the blink of an eye;

If you find that perfect balance, in both asking him what else he read while also doing your own thing, Aemond would be smitten with you - even more so after you both grow into your teenage years.

He notices, even if he doesn't tell you, how all the other ladies at court scurry away when they see him, scrunching up their noses in disgust at the sight of his eyepatch.

'He could be handsome, if it weren't for that scar.'

'The boy could be the heir to the Iron Throne for all I care. I could never lay with such a beast.'

He is so grateful for you;

He becomes insecure, and very posessive over your bond in return. It gets to the point where he wants to seek out your company during every hour of every day; it's you who keeps him sane, who understands him and doesn't look at him in pure disgust;

He knows it's not proper, for a lady and a prince to always be seen together, and he doesn't want to embarrass or overburden you;

Because he's afraid you'll get bored of him, he keeps half a distance when he can muster;

Still, make no mistake: he's always nearby, lurking, watching you through the comfort of the shadows. And when the Red Keep hosts for either ball or name day, you're the only one with whom he ever dances.

He relishes in the knowledge that you too, only dance with him - no matter how many Baratheons or Tyrells come your way;

He realises he truly loves you when one day, while walking down a hallway, he spots you talking to your handmaid, Arwen.

He quickly picks up the situation from the loose dialogue he can hear: you, expressing your worry for a very pregnant Arwen, commanding her sternly to let you help her carry the heavy wine barrels to the cellar;

Your kindness is pure. Not a front shown by many other ladies, who only ever mourn the losses of the lesser when other noble men of the court are around;

He wants to marry you. To crown you the love of his life, to make you his Princess and the mother of his child;

But his insecurity pushes him down once more;

How could he selfishly keep you, you bright, wonderous and beautiful thing? He could go to his mother and beg her to betroth you, finally making you his - but how could he steal any hope of happiness you may have, by cursing you to marry not only a second son, but a cripple and a thief?

So he doesn't. He lays low. Starts avoiding balls and any other grand event. When he is forced to attend, he doesn't dance with you anymore. He doesn't dance with anyone.

He simply stays put, hammered in his seat;

Your walks through the garden and chats of deep philosphies happen less and less;

The tens of suitors you managed to stir at such occasions take his place by your left side;

Soon enough, the news of your betrothal reach his ears. You, to be wed by the end of spring, with a Stark lord of Winterfell;

That night, he cannot sleep.

He needs to take Vhagar to the skies, in an attempt to clear his head.

Or he needs to see you immediately, and confront you himself on the subject of your hasty marriage;

He almost reaches to your door, but stops again.

Pain shoots like an arrow through his heart - he feels entitled to an explanation, but how could he be?

It was he who encouraged you to talk to other men. It was he who was too much of a coward to court you as well;

For a moment, he rests his head upon the oak doors of your chambers, before turning his back to walk towards Vhagar's lair;

That night, you feel it too - the sadness and dissatisfaction that enveloped both your hearts;

Only you are more pragmatic;

You get up from your bed, making haste to get dressed;

Before you know it, you crush with him on the way to his chambers - his hands are now on you, protectively around your waist, keeping you from crashing onto the cold floor;

He smells of dragon and of old parchments;

"What are you doing here at this hour, my lady?"

"Aemond."

You drop all formalities, all the while hurt by his usage of them, and shrug your shoulders; you ask him what the matter with him is, why he's been avoiding you for all those weeks, why he refuses to look you in the eyes;

He replies that you're not children anymore, that you both have duties that lay outside of your friendship and other fickle desires;

You snap - you tell him how you cannot believe he's become so short sighted, so blind to your pain. You scowl, and insist that you've always been by his side when he needed you the most. Where did he disappear when your turn to beg for solace came?

"I never expected you to love me. But I never thought you'd stop being my friend."

The two of you share your first kiss that night;

He grabs you tightly - one hand on the nape of your neck, the other on your heaving shoulder;

Aemond kisses you with wild abandon, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth, swallowing your tiny moans;

His forehead comes to rest with yours, both of you breathing heavily, and you chase his lips again with your own;

Eventually, you get around to actually talk - he swears to you that he will talk with his mother and your father when the first ray of sunlight brightens the horizon;

"You're right, you know." He whimpered into your mouth, seering your lips with another hot kiss. "You were always by my side, fighting for me";

The passion burning through his gaze made your knees weak, and you were glad that in that moment, your weight was fully supported by his strong arms;

"It is now my turn to fight for you, issa jorrāelagon."

Translations:

"Issa jorrāelagon" = My love;

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #house of the dragon aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #house of the dragon

[shesjustanothergeek]

Ruined

|Jacques Le Gris x Fem!Reader|

Short Story

Summary: Once you come of age, you're sent to your brother-in-law's estate to find a husband. After months of deflecting and denying suitors, old and young, you encounter the dangerous squire Jacques le Gris.

Author's Note: Jacques le Gris is a rapist. No matter which point of view you look at, he is a rapist. I would also like to say that I personally hate him. He embodies everything I hate about men and victim blaming in the modern world. Still, at the same time, I am so incredibly enamored by him, primarily due to Adam Driver's acting. Initially, I didn't want to write this story, but it would not leave me alone. Without further ado, here is Ruined. I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: Mentions of rape, period-accurate sexism, noncon elements, extremely toxic masculinity, orgy (non-participating), the reader is a virgin, slight blood play, violence, degradation (Jacques receiving), rough sex, Jacques is not nice until the end, sexual blackmail, unprotected sex, PIV.

(I wrote this story almost a year ago but realized I didn't publish it here for some reason. You'll definitely see how much my writing has changed for the better.)

The obnoxious noises of people chanting draw you out of your trance, sipping wine from a silver goblet periodically to drown everything out. These parties were never your favorite, but you came, observing the party-goers dancing drunkenly as if it was your duty to attend.

You roll your eyes as the crowd cheers, Count Pierre yelling above the rest, a woman on his lap, and bringing your gaze to where the sound is directed.

A young man with raven hair draped around his neck stalks towards a maiden, a smirk on his lips, untying his white tunic. His chest is broad, a sheen of sweat glittering on his skin in the candlelight. He would be so much more attractive if this were a different situation. You could even imagine yourself being the one to pleasure his cock. You roll your eyes, understanding the intentions of this whole charade.

"Jacques, my boy, get on with it," Pierre says, growing impatient with the lack of excitement.

He nods, making wide steps to the woman, circling a wooden table as she runs in the opposite direction he follows. You can't help the groan of distaste that releases, tilting the cup to your lips and turning away, not wanting to see the show.

How could anyone like this? It was blasphemous in the eyes of the Lord. Mary would be weeping for what her son's followers do for fun. You must mention this in your confession, receiving penance for witnessing hedonistic actions, drawing the sign of the cross, wiping the stray dribbles from your lips, and making room for your bed chamber.

Pierre sticks his leather boot out, nearly tripping you as you huff, putting your hands on your hips.

"Where are you going, sister," he questions. "The party has just begun."

Your lips curl into a snarl, your white teeth reflecting the flickers of light.

"It is quite late, my dear brother-in-law. I need to rest my weary body."

Pierre tucks his leg back, a wave of shock washing over you. He fakes a pout, his eyebrows scrunching with a wet lip out. You shake your head, disbelieving his ridiculous antics. Indeed, he wouldn't let you go that easily.

"Awe, my dear sister," he pats his free thigh, "won't you find your rest here on my lap?"

The room erupts with laughter, everyone watching the exchange unfold, wondering how this will end. Your stomach turns inside, revolted by your legal brother's detailed proposal in God's eyes. Hot words of hatred sear your tongue's end, begging you to be free, but you bite it. He was, after all, above you, gifting you a home while searching for a husband. You were indebted to him. Saying no was not an option. Your eyes meet Jacques, a look of surprise as if he never knew you were here in the first place— a typical man, keeping his head trained on one hole at a time.

Pushing all the bile and anger, you plaster a smile, accepting the offer and sitting across from the finely dressed lady. Pierre runs his calloused fingers along your spine, turning you into stone as you set your gaze on the floor.

Everyone's eyes had left except for one, the only pair you didn't want on you as you sat in defeat, cheeks fuming. Jacques was intense, his facial hair dusting around the hard line of his mouth, shining with the wetness of the wine. It almost seemed you were his prey now, not the maiden with the ornate burgundy dress. You had no intention of being hunted by him.

With the clap of Pierre's hands, the merriment commences again, Jacques halting for a split second before his pupils are set back to where they were before. The woman is shouting no, over and over again, excitement barely laced in it. Your heart went out to her, a feeling of protection for the circumstance. She had no choice in who fucked her; a status of nothingness gave men the right to do what they wanted. Your gender had just as much value as theirs. Breasts and warm heat should not matter. 

The position in a society fueled the eternal flame of fury in your soul, always wanting to rebel and speak your truth, but the consequences of disrespecting a man were deadly. You were just as helpless as the woman being thrown over Jacques's shoulder and flipped onto the bed, held down by other waiting women.

A hand grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to watch the poor woman be soiled.

"Watch," Pierre commands, saying your name. "Watch him fuck her, and maybe you will learn how to be a good wife for your husband."

You clench your teeth, growling in protest as you watch Jacques enter her from behind. The iniquity of the sounds is enough to stir your core, but the cries of her protest ring louder, maybe laced with a hint of pleasure as the meat from the large feast threatens to exit your throat.

"Here." Jacques's voice was smooth, rolling out his chest like a baritone into your ears, caressing them. "Take some evil inside you," he says, aligning his hips with hers.

Your body jolts, either from the erotic sounds of his words or the disgusting act he was committing on her, as you put a hand over your mouth, jumping from your spot before Pierre can stop you. Incoherent noises were mumbling out of you as you ran to the doors, bursting them open with weight. The onlookers are quiet once more, waiting for a cue from the Lord. Jacques is the only one not paying attention, his vision trained on your retreating form as the girls giggle.

You order your handmaids to draw a bath, telling them to put as many herbs and oils to soothe your racing heart. They listened, bowing their heads in respect as they went off to do their respective duties, and you were in the scented waters in no time.

Take some evil inside you.

The words echoed in your brain, fuzzing all concise thoughts and morals. These parties were always like this, orgies were the most common, but they all seemed consensual. You never heard a woman shout no until tonight. Pierre ordered him to almost rape, teetering on dubiousness and assault.

Why would someone participate in that so willingly?

Jacques could say no and leave, not chase her around like an animal until he jumped on her. He was so attractive and sensual in his movements that even Christ would be shy.

You reached over the top of the tub, picking up the leather-bound book on the stand next to you, attempting to distract your mind from the man that was viciously pounding into as many women as he could in the other wing. A book of poems written in Latin was always your choice.

You had been lost in the pages for hours; the water had turned lukewarm and your skin pruney, but you were too focused as you felt the door slam. You jumped, nearly dropping it into the tub. You were surprised to find visitors, especially this late in the night. You lift your gaze with a quizzical raised brow. The person standing in your bathing room was Jacques Le Gris. You squeal, dipping into the water and covering your chest.

"What the Hell are you doing in here?" You nearly scream, forgetting your place.

He takes a few steps closer as you turn away more, his boots thudding, sending vibrations through the floor as he bends over, picking up your book. He reads the name aloud, almost like a question, and turns the pages, looking for a certain one. Jacques reads it aloud.

"Bibe mihi nisi oculis tuis et ego confirmo in oculis tuis." (Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine.) He says, eyes flickering to your submerged body. "Vel osculum sed in poculo relinque, et vinum non quaeram." (Or leave a kiss but in thine cup, and I'll not look for wine)

Your muscles relax as you listen to his voice. It sounds the same, but the feeling of it is so much better than before.

"Sitis, quae ex anima oritur, divinum potionem petit." (The thirst from the soul doth rise, doth ask a drink divine.) You turn your body towards him, still covering your chest as you study his lips, how they pucker slightly, and his pink tongue touches his teeth.

Jacques begins to read the following line, but you interrupt him, having read this poem many times, as you peek over the side of the brass tub.

"Sed, ut potui, lovis nectare supponerem, Nolo tuum mutare." (But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.) He lowers his head a few inches above yours. His intense honey-brown eyes bore into yours.

"Sera tibi roseo misi, non tam honorante, quam ut spem dare non posset arescere." (I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath, not so much honoring thee, as giving it a hope that there it could not withered be.) He reads the line, inching closer and closer.

You lick your lips, lifting yourself as you recite. "Tu autem ibi solus respirasti et mihi remisisti." (But thou thereon did'st only breathe, and sent'st it back to me.)

"Cum crescit et olet, non per se, sed te." (Since when it grows and smells, I swear, not of itself, but thee.)

Jacques closes the book with a slight slap, the tip of his prominent nose gliding across yours as your mouth parts for him. He closes his eyes, leaning in.

"Take some evil inside you."

You pull back, standing in the tub quickly as the water splashes out. Jacques's face turns pale at your rejection, embarrassment clouding his mind. You turn your back to him, grabbing a large towel.

"You know, Sir Le Gris, that poetry would sound heavenly if it wasn't for your filthy mouth." You flip your hair over your shoulder, bending slightly to wring the water out as you hear Jacques approach.

Fear stuns you for a moment, freezing, unsure of what to do or where to go because you know he will not take no for an answer if he reaches you. Suddenly, you spot a mounted dagger over the fireplace. You stroll as if you planned to walk over all along. He catches up in no time, pinning you to the stone, his form pressed into your back as he buries his nose in your neck, sniffing. You try not to cringe, even though everything in your body tells you to do so. You can't show him you're afraid.

"Would you like to rub my oils on Sir Le Gris?" You try to hide the tremble in your voice, staying frozen in place.

"Mmm," he moans, "I would love to." He moves away from you, finally giving you the chance to breathe.

"They are over there." You point to the shelf with glass bottles and vials as he nods. Turning his back on you, you reach for the dagger, silently prying it off the display. "You can pick whatever oil you want, Sir."

Jacques studies each one, popping off the corks and glass lids, smelling them until he finds something he enjoys, and walks back over. He opens the bottle, the smell of roses wafting in the air as he pours some out into his hands, massaging your neck.

If this was any other circumstance, you might adore basking in it, but it isn't. You're with a man who has no concept of consent, a man who would bend you onto the hearth and fuck your weeping body. He reaches down to your shoulders, halting when he feels your resistance on the cloth; not letting him remove it, he overpowers you, pushing it down. You clutch the dagger closer to your bare chest as his fingers glide down your biceps and back, slick with the oil.

"You are so stiff, my sweet."

You shudder at the endearment, trying to relax your tense muscles. Jacques's hand travels down your chest, encompassing the small flat area as his fingertips touch the top of your breast.

"Stop," you command with a flat voice. Jacques ignores you, continuing to massage your intimate parts.

You turn around, flying at lightning speed, and put the dagger's tip to his throat, only enough to draw a trickle of blood.

"When a woman says stop, you stop, Jacques. When a woman says no, you listen." The words fly out of your mouth, anger for seeing the filthy action he committed on that woman from the party.

His lack of terror frustrates you. Even with a knife to his throat, he radiates arrogance. You push him backward across the room, still at his throat, pinning him to the large wooden door. He stands there in surprise, his arms up in surrender, more startled than afraid.

"I could end your life in a second, you scoundrel, yet you show no fear."

Jacques laughs. He laughed dark and deep, his perfectly crooked teeth sparkling as his Adam's apple bobs. You slide the blade with your neck craned; the edge is now piercing. Your face scrunches with fury bringing your knee up to his stomach, causing him to laugh more, slightly doubled over.

"Do you have such a low view of women that you take it in jest when they threaten your life?" You spit. His joy subsides a bit, chest still slightly bouncing.

If you slid the blade across his neck at this moment, his throat would slit, spilling his tarnished blood on your naked body, yet he still doesn't seem to care. His eyes travel down you, still damp from the bath. You slam his shoulder into the door with your fist, trying to assert dominance over him, not allowing him to look. You suppose this is a precarious pose, leg hiked up, hand on his shoulder, giving him perfect access to your womanhood.

Your stance falters at the thought, Jacques taking it as the perfect opportunity to grab you. The blade slides across his arm, flinching for just enough time to run, but he grabs you at the waist, the soles of your feet sliding across the stone floor. You yelp as he flings you over his shoulder, your legs and arms kicking as you scream for him to stop. He doesn't listen, opening the door to your bed chamber and throwing you down on your mattress.

Your body displays perfectly for him, with a slight sheen on your flush body. He devours the sight of you, ripping off his sweat-stained tunic as you push yourself off the sheets and away from him, running towards the exit. Jacques cuts you off, hunched over in a stance that resembles the one at the party, his arms out. You step to the side, and he mirrors it. You step to the other, and the same thing happens again.

"If you run, I will only chase you," he says with a predator's grin.

You look around desperately for anything to help you escape him. You spot a candle stick, sprinting to it, knocking the lit wax onto the floor as it rolls to Jacques's feet; his boot steps on it, snuffing the flame.

"Oh, my darling, you must be careful. You wouldn't want to cause a fire. Our fun might end." His voice is condescending as he stalks you.

"I will set this whole castle on fire before I ever have fun with the likes of you, swine."

A glob of spit flies out of your mouth, landing on his cheek. The pads of his fingers touch it, wiping it on them and bringing them to his mouth, sucking. He hums, popping them from his lips with a smile.

"You taste so sweet." He closes the space between you. "I would shun Jove's cup away every chance if it meant I could taste your nectar instead."

You grip the brass candle stick tightly, offended that he would reference a poem so dear, ready to swing at any moment. Jacques notices, smiling to himself. Your legs rub together at his words, a mind of their own.

His lips crash on yours, destroying any thought that you might not want this, and you drop your weapon, wrapping your fingers in his raven locks. You can feel him grin, happy to have won, his hand lacing itself on your neck.

You part for air as Jacques spins you around, sliding his other hand down your body to your aching mound, parting the wet folds with his digits. You gasp at the contact, your knees buckling as his grip holds you up.

"For a lady who put up so much of a fight, you are impossibly weak under my touch," he mocks, relishing his victory.

You glare at the wall with the brutal honesty of his words. You didn't put up much of a fight when his mouth finally met yours, even dropping your only form of protection.

"Silence." You demand, not wanting to hear any more of his taunts.

An exploratory finger glides over a sensitive spot on your heat, causing you to gasp and grip Jacques's trousers. He swipes over it, and you cry out at the foreign sensation, panting. You can feel the pride radiate from his demeanor at seeing your weakness, slowly rubbing circles on the bud.

You have never felt like this before, being taught never to explore that private area of your body, leaving it only for your husband to use. This pleasure wasn't something that society taught you. Yes, you watched many people fornicate at Count Pierre d'Alençon's gatherings but never allowed yourself to participate. He would have loved it if you did, but you had one duty to attend: finding a husband.

It was already so tricky finding anyone you could stomach, all the suitors decrepit and at death's door. You wanted to marry for love when you were younger. The idea of a fairytale romance clouded your eyes as a child, but once you bled for the first time, you were sat down and told of your duties. Accept whatever man had the most money, influence, or power and fill your stomach with his kin. But you wanted something else. The suitors also knew it, as you destroyed any notion of a small and obedient wife.

At times you were sure Pierre would throw you out as you brushed off and disrespected every man that came, but some of you knew he liked the entertainment. If only he could see you now.

Naked and moaning like a whore as Jacques assaulted your heat with his fingers, you loved the sinfulness of it all, Jacques breathing heavily into your ear as he worked you like a loom, rubbing in circles as pressure began to build in your stomach. Your hips were moving, seeking more friction. You can't control your body, the lust of the devil taking over your mind, a he kept touching that exact spot.

It was so intense, the new feeling, almost too much, you wanted to scream obscenities and thrash around, but he held you firm. Your toes curled as you stomped on the ground, a wave of ecstasy crashing into you as you screamed. Your body caved in on itself as you struggled in Jacques's grip, still rubbing the used nub. You twitched and spasmed as the aftershocks of your high jolted through your body, mumbling to yourself.

"It's-it's too much. Please. Stop." You beg as tears form from the overstimulation.

Jacques shushes you with kisses along your face, calming his fingers slightly, and you breathe a sigh of relief, head dropping as his hand still chokes.

"Have you ever experienced this before, a man's touch?" He whispers seductively, nose burying in your hair.

You're too dazed to think of a witty retort, Jacques pulling your consciousness away.

"No. I have to save myself."

"For who?" Jacques asks, removing his paws from your naked skin.

"My husband." You answer plainly.

Some of you have always wanted to explore your features this way, but you are always too scared, never taking the risk. You felt they would know what you had done by the look on your face, throwing you to live with pigs for the rest of your life. He chuckles at your lack of restraint, happy to have brought your defenses to a standstill as he slowly sways you to the bed, closing your eyes. You think he might leave you there, tucking you in for the night. You wouldn't protest with your achy limbs.

"You're still intact?"

You shoot up, eyes wide, as you realize what will happen. What?" That is all you manage to say, scared to admit the truth. Maybe if you didn't, he would lose interest and leave.

He rests his knees on the bed, your legs between his as he repeats.

"You are still intact?"

"Sir le Gris, I beg you to leave my chambers." Your voice weavers, sobering up, trying to keep a modicum of strength.

You slide off the bed, Jacques grabbing and flipping you as you swipe the candle stick from the floor. He crawls over the top, dragging his hair along your back as you feel his hands dip the bed, stick biting into your chest.

"I will ruin you for every man," Jacques whispers, face centimeters away from your ear, his facial hair tickling your skin as he peppers kisses along your neck.

The logical part of your brain wanted to stop this, realizing that you would fail if your future husband wanted to see if you were still a virgin. They'll declare you a whore, a harlot, sabotaging every suiter who enters the door. With your personality, you knew that your virtue would appeal more than money to them, and Jacques Le Gris would take it away. But the way his lips delicately kissed your skin, his hair lightly stroking it, taking the words out of your mouth as he reached your hips.

He removed his body from yours, shucking his black trousers onto the floor. You grip the candle stick tighter. This was your chance to fight back, stopping him from taking your only decent quality in man's eyes, but you didn't. You just lay there, waiting patiently for him.

A part of you wanted this, to know what it felt like and to discard any chance of finding a betrothed. You couldn't be tied to domestics, organizing feasts, caring for little ones, and then laying down to a man you could never love. It would be pure Hell, and you could not accept that. You would rather die alone without your honor than live a day under a man's boot.

Jacques grips your hips again, pulling you towards the edge of the mattress, legs hanging off the end as he spits on his shaft, stroking it. You turn your head to take a peak. The length is impossible; you had never seen one this long or wide, glistening with his seed at the tip. He catches you staring, smirking at your shocked expression, glad to have finally put you in your place.

He positions himself at your entrance, rubbing his hands on your ass almost gently as he pushes into the hilt. You scream, silencing it into the blankets as he pulls out, only to slam back in again. Tears burst from your eyes at the blinding pain of being stretched, his blatant disregard for your comfort.

"Jacques, it-it hurts." You beg, body shaking, the salty streams of water cascading down your face and into your mouth. "Please, slow down."

Your trembling voice breaks him from his trance, realizing he can't treat you the way he does with other women, not if both of you were to enjoy it. He pulls out, turning your body, seeing your tear-stained face and the candle stick you had been hiding, throwing it off to the side. Jacques smirks, proud to have won your mercy. He didn't know how long he would worry about you trying to kill him. He was proud of the magic his cock could work, but he didn't think it was that powerful, willing someone as strong and aggressive as you into submission. He bent over your body, kissing you, sucking on your lips gently, as your fingers combed threw his hair.

"I'm sorry, my darling, I should have remembered you are not like the rest. So fragile and delicate." He smiles, getting a waft from the oil he put on you earlier. "Like a rose. Ma rose. Beautiful and elegant, but if you aren't wise, she will prick you with her thorns."

You're sure his terms of affection come from pure physical attraction, trying to calm you so he could get back to fucking you like a rabbit. But the feeling that crept into your bones and heart at his words wanted to tell you something different.

He slowly drags them across your velvet walls, relishing in the tiny moans and whines he pulled from your chest. This time, his hand went down to your womanhood, using your juices to coat his fingers before he slid in, stretching you but not as comprehensively as his cock. You gripped onto the arms that caged you, your fingernails digging into the toned muscles as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, softly biting the flesh.

You felt your peak rising quickly as he stroked you with curled fingers, your heat clenching and twitching around him. Jacques didn't need you to say anything to know you were close. Your body told him everything he needed as he quickly exited before your climax, ignoring your protests. He brought the digits to his mouth, coated in blood and nectar as he sucked, eyes rolling back at the tangy taste.

You watched in awe as his tongue licked it, dipping into all the crevices. He leaned down, hesitating momentarily as he reached your lips before you parted them and then dove in, mixing the taste of you and him. You moaned through your nostrils, eyelids fluttering as your tongues danced together, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were tired of waiting now that he showed you what sex could feel like, frustrated by its denial. You pulled his hair, tugging his face away as you looked into his hazel-brown irises.

You had never been this close to Jacques to appreciate his beauty truly; the freckles and moles dotted his cheeks and around his nose. He almost looked like the Roman statues you had seen in books, with his face and body chiseled from stone.

"Please," you whispered on his damp skin, "I need you inside me."

Jacques had waited for those words his entire life, eyes rolling back at the wave of arousal he got from them. He positioned his cock at your abused mound again, sliding in slowly as he watched your expression.

It was painful again, tensing and scrunching as he held back the best he could, bottoming out. The feeling of him so impossibly deep made you gasp. You were sure he was in your guts. You slowly ground your hips against him, trying to seek the pleasure you now knew he could give you. He smiled at your eagerness, happy to have turned the stiff woman into a puddle in his hands.

He finally gave you what you wanted, pulling back and sliding back in. Your walls finally adjusted to his overall size, welcoming him in. Like earlier, he worked that sweet spot inside you, stoking the fire smoldered inside into a small flame. You wanted more now that you realized what was possible, snatching his body close to yours as you angle your hips up, inviting him to go the pace he wanted. And Jacques did, slamming into your body as he fucked you deeply, breasts bouncing from the force.

You moaned loudly, head rolling to the side as the pleasure took over, Jacques wrapping a large palm around your throat again to hold you in place.

"Oh Lord," you shouted, "please forgive me. Now that I know of this sinful ecstasy, I may never stop."

Jacques smiled, happy that he ruined and corrupted you like he said he would, a new wave of primal desire controlling him. He yanks you to the end of the bed again, slamming your body into him as he stands upright, grabbing your waist and fucking into you as hard as he can, gritting his teeth.

You pant, excited by the new position he thrusts into rapidly, the now familiar pressure quickly building in your stomach.

"I am going to ruin you for every man." Jacques reiterates from before. "So, when your husband is fucking you like an untrained dog, all you will think of is me."

His black mop of hair sticks to his sweaty forehead as he continues pumping into you, holding himself back until you climax for him. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, pistoning in you impossibly deeper, hitting the same spot repeatedly until you snap. Your vision goes white as you arch your back, screaming at the bursting pleasure in your stomach. Jacques grins, proud to have you writhing under him as he spills inside you, seed filling up your hole as you both continue panting.

Jacques pumps into you carefully, slowly riding your highs together as your pulse slows, breathing calmly. His hand slowly snakes its way to yours, hooking a cautious pinky. He pulls out, gently dropping your leg as he collapses beside you, spent from the activities together, staring up at the ceiling.

His digit is vast compared to yours, the size of your index, as he takes the invitation to wrap all of them under your plan, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. You stare at him, an eyebrow raised at the unexpected display of affection.

"Thank you for giving yourself to me, ma rose. For letting me have your virtue." You look down at the intertwined hands and then at his face, skeptical, seeing his sincere expression.

"You are welcome," you giggle. "Though I always imagined it would be my husband, now I don't think I need one for that anymore."

Jacques laughs, a naturally bellowing whole-body one, and shakes his head.

"With all due respect, my lady, I don't think you needed me to show you that." You mirror his emotions, silently agreeing with him as he gets up, searching for the lost garments during your adventures.

You attempt to stand, legs faltering as pain shoots through your core, using the bed for balance. Luckily, Jacques is in the bathing room collecting his tunic as you walk over to the candle and holder, putting them back.

Cold, wet fabric on your back causes you to jump, turning around to see Jacques fully clothed with a wash rag in hand. You wince at the freezing temperature of it, grabbing his wrist. You look at him perplexed as he leads you back to the bed, parting your legs as he drags them across your core, cleaning up the dried blood and fluids.

"I can do that, Sir." You protest, uncomfortable with the amount of concern he is showing you.

"I know you can." He chuckles to himself, shaking his head, and continues. You don't stop him, letting the man care for you this time.

Once he's done, you reach for the cloth to discard, but he yanks it out of the way, folding it and stuffing it in a pocket. You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head.

"And what are you going to do with that le Gris?" You ask in an admonishing tone.

"Oh, this?" He questions, feigning innocence. "This is just for me... and any other suiter who decides to court you."

Your face pales, your playful expression dropping as you go to grab for him, his body surprisingly fast for the bulk of it. You try again, and he expertly dodges towards the door.

"Give it back, Jacques," you demand, done with his games.

He smiles and shakes his head, patting where the tainted fabric is stored. You reach for it once more as he opens your bed chamber door and slips out, shutting it on your naked body. He knows you can't leave, or everyone will see you; although some might be pleased, you still stay inside, pounding on the door as you yell his name.

***

You sit silently at the table with Count Pierre d'Alençon and his wife, your sister, eating the day's first meal. You needed that after last night, still fuming after what Jacques did.

That damn scoundrel.

Pierre puts his knife down with a "clang," causing your sister and you to perk up, expecting an explanation for the sound as he wipes his lips.

"Jacques le Gris came to my chamber last night," he begins. A lump forms in your throat as you freeze, terrified about what his following words would be."I found it very odd, him being here that late after the party, but nevertheless, he said it was necessary."

Indeed Jacques didn't blast Pierre about what you did last night; he already had proof enough that he didn't need to say anything.

"You came up in the conversation, my dear sister," he says as he points a jeweled finger.

You swallow, plotting all the terrible things you will do to Jacques the next time you see him.

"He proposed a marriage to you."

You drop all your silverware on the floor, face in shock at the reveal. Jacques has already ruined all chances of future courtiers, even going a step further and ruining your prospects of freedom. Why the Hell would he do that?

"I, of course, said that he would have to follow the process like any other man. He would get no special treatment just because he is my friend."

He steals your virtue and now your only chance of freedom.

"What do you say, my dear sister?" He asks, ripping your mind for your thoughts.

You stare blankly, unsure how to respond to something as ridiculous as that and clear your throat.

"Jacques le Gris is like all of the men from before and will be like all of the men after," you reply.

Pierre smiles at your answer, happy to know the two most headstrong, fiery people he knows will go toe to toe. This will be a duel for the ages.

#adam driver #adam driver fanfic #the last duel #jacques le gris smut #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris #jacques le gris oneshot #jacques le gris x fem!reader #jacques le gris x you #jacques le gris x y/n #the last duel movie #jacques le gris is a filthy scoundrel #the last duel ridley scott #adam driver fanfiction #jacques le gris fanfic #jacques le gris fanfiction #the last duel fanfic #the last duel fanfiction #the last duel adam driver #the last duel jacques le gris

[yelenasdiary]

Hello, I am resubmitting my order. And I want to say that I'm sorry for these horrible comments that you are receiving without meaning, people have to understand that everyone has their time and deserves to live their life in the best way possible.

-> I have a pretty cute request I think? 😂 like, I'm a pretty whiny person when it comes to getting vaccinated. You can make it like it's Maximoff family day to go for the annual vaccines, Wanda and the kids get it with no problems, but Reader is a crybaby and gets all sensitive just wanting Wanda's cuddles afterward, which is funny because Reader is the strongest in the family, but at needle time she gets all whiny. I hope you can write because I really need a hug after getting vaccinated 😖

[ sorry if my english sucks, that's not my first language, but I hope you understand ]

I want you to feel free to do this or not. 😊

Vaccination Day

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The yearly vaccinations updates brings out a whole new side of you.

Fluff | Mentions of Needles | They/Them pronouns |  0.9K | 

AC: I HATE needs! I used to donate blood just fine thou lmao! I hope this helps, I’m sorry it took a while!  

"Well done Billy, you're all done! Just sit for a few moments then you can help yourself to a lollypop" the nurse smiled as she placed a Band-Aid on Billy's arm. "Thank you!" The boy smiled before he looked at you and Wanda as he swung his legs back and forth. 

"My turn!!" Tommy rolled up his sleeve to his shoulder as the nurse prepared the next vaccination. 

You hated to show it but you couldn't control how your hands where shaky and your eyes tightly closed when you saw the needle. "Something the matter baby?" Wanda whispered without taking her eyes off the twins. "You'll laugh at me" you replied in the same softened tone. Wanda slowly turned her head to look at you, she raised a brow slightly at your reply. 

"Laugh at you? Darling, are you scared of needles?" she asked with a now amused look. 

"N-n-no?" 

"Is that a question?" Wanda chuckled. 

"I told you; you would laugh!" you pouted before your eyes shifted to Tommy who sat perfectly still for the nurse, not even a flinch came from either of your boys as the needle pinched their skin. "Oh honey, if the boys can do without making a huss, so can you" Wanda's amused look didn't budge, you looked at her and sighed, "I'm being serious Wands, I hate needles! More than I hate spiders" you whispered so the twins wouldn't hear. 

"Your turn Ma!" Billy stood up and reached for a lollypop out of the nurse's jar. "It's okay buddy, Mom wants to get hers done first" you nervously smiled at your son before your eyes traveled to Wanda who just tilted her head slightly at you and shook her head.

You watched Wanda get her vaccinations with your nerves getting the better of you causing you to excuse yourself from the room. "Is Ma okay?" The boys turned to Wanda with a worried look. "They are fine, they just don't like needles" she explained trying her best not to let her amusement get the better of her. 

"But they don't even hurt" Tommy commented with a confused frown, "I know love but even though we are strong and can take a vaccine, doesn't mean Ma isn't strong either. Do you boys remember when Sparky ran away? Do you remember how scared you boys were and worried that we might not find him?" 

The twins nodded, "Well, that's how Ma is feeling right now. This is a little scary to them" Wanda added as the nurse placed a band-aid on her arm, "don't worry, I've seen plenty of adults get scared over needles, it's normal" the nurse pitched in. "Really?" the twins asked the young nurse, "of course" she smiled as she began to prepare the next vaccine. "Ma doesn't have to be scared!" Billy looked at Wanda who smiled softly at him, "Yeah, let's go find them" Tommy suggested.

"How about you boys wait here and I'll go find Ma" Wanda suggested before looking at the nurse, "is that okay? I'm sorry, I know you're busy" she added. "Oh, it's fine" the nurse smiled. 

Wanda stepped out of the room to find you sitting in the waiting room with your right knee bouncing to distract you from your nerves. She smiled softly to herself before she walked over to you and took a seat beside you, placing a hand over your bouncing knee. "Honey, it's okay" her thumb stroked your knee, "tell me what you need" she added as you looked at her. 

"Will you hold my hand?" you asked in a soft and quiet tone, "I mean, so I can squeeze it when the nurse pricks me with the needle" you added. Wanda couldn't help by chuckle, "yes my love, I'll hold your hand and after we can take the boys for ice cream before we go home" Her thumb continued to stroke your knee. 

"I'm not getting it done in front of the boys"

"Don't worry baby, they already know Ma is a little scared of needles" she chuckled before placing a kiss on your cheek, "come on love, lets get his over with so I can give you all the cuddles you want when we get home" she added. 

"I'd like that" you smiled softly. 

----

Wanda held your hand as the twins held your other has the nurse gave you the vaccination, light tears filled your eyes at the prick feeling from the needle. Even though you were seen as the strongest member of the family, the boys promised that from now on that they would hold your hand next year and make it a little tradition that Ma gets to pick a treat for after. 

Ice cream definitely helped take your mind off the events of the day, Wanda kept you close to her and showered you with kisses and praises to make you feel better. Although she couldn't help herself and made a couple of jokes which did actually cause you to giggle. After dinner and when the twins were tucked into bed, Wanda continued to shower you with love and affection, giving you the biggest and warmest cuddles as you fell asleep in her arms while watching your favorite movie. 

Even though you didn't feel so tough and strong today, Wanda didn't look at you any differently, you were still the strongest member of the family in her eyes and the twins.

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #fanfiction #marvel

[dreamersinthedaylightinspo]

The fighting was stupid. It always was. Feyre was at her wit's end, too busy to even remember how it had started. Raising her infant son while corralling her sisters and acting as High Lady seemed an impossible task. With Rhys in Illyria, and Mor on the Continent, it could have been unbearable.

Luckily, she still had Cassian. He listened to her, as he had always done, and offered her sound advice when she asked.

"I'm sorry," Feyre finally sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I know she's your mate, but - honestly I don't know how you deal with her."

Cassian offered a wry smile. "What can I say? I've always been a fighter."

Things like that. Feyre knew that mating bonds weren't always like hers - but even so, she was having a lot of difficulty imagining how Cassian and Nesta worked out. After all, Cassian was friendly and loving and good and compassionate, while her sister was - her sister.

"She doesn't deserve you, Cas, truly."

Feyre meant this lightheartedly. She returned Cassian's smile - only for his whole face to go slightly blank and slack. His brows furrowed and he regarded her, still and quietly, for a long moment.

"Good gods," Cassian said. "You really do believe that, don't you?"

Feyre was suddenly confused. The temperature of the dining room seemed to have dropped several degrees, and she sat up straight.

"Cas, I didn't mean to upset you. I just..."

She trailed off, trying to reach for his hand. But Cassian stood up from the table, shaking his head and muttering: "She tried to tell me but do I ever listen?"

"Cas," said Feyre. "Forget it. I know - the bond is still so fresh. I spoke out of turn. I'm sorry."

"No, you didn't. You're not sorry."

That voice - she had never heard him sound like that. And the look on his face as he turned his head. Incredulous, like he'd never seen her before, almost disgusted. Feyre began to feel like someone had pulled a rug out from under her feet.

"Cassian..."

"Nesta is a good person," he said, and Feyre's spine snapped straight. A lectureb - from Cassian, of all people. "She's one of the smartest, most compassionate, hard-working people I've ever met. If anything, I'm the one who doesn't deserve her, especially not after everything that happened. After all the things we did - me especially? It's a testament to how good she is that she can even stand to be around us at all."

What in the world was this about? Feyre shook her head.

"What are you talking about?"

"You really don't know," said Cassian. It wasn't a question. More like an admission of defeat. "You never saw it, did you?"

They weren't talking about the most recent fight anymore. But Feyre couldn't, for the life of her, understand what had changed. This was still Nesta that they were discussing, right? The same frigid, cruel-tongued sister that Feyre had always known, that Cassian had seen potential in, that Elain had allied with to protect herself in their fraught childhoods.

"I'm such an idiot," Cassian said, sounding exhausted. "She told me so many times how this would go, and I still argued. I should've known."

"Cassian," said Feyre, rising slightly in desperation. "What did she say? I don't understand -"

"No, I don't expect you will," he replied, baffingly. "Maybe not for a long time."

Feyre got up for the table, but before she could approach Cassian, to make him sit and force him to explain himself - he headed for the door.

"I came here because I was hoping that if I understood the fight a bit better, I could help you make up. But I think that it's better for me to go."

Go. That word rang ominously; Feyre's eyes widened.

"Where?"

Cassian seemed to understand her meaning. "Nesta and I are planning to take some time. To move to the Continent for awhile."

The news struck Feyre like a physical blow. "When was this decided?"

Her voice came in a half-pained whisper. Cassian looked almost pitying.

"A few weeks ago."

So, even before the fight from last week. Feyre was reeling.

"Does Rhys know?"

"No, but you'll tell him."

That voice again. Tears of confusion and frustration welled in Feyre's eyes.

"What about Illyria, Cas?"

"I've already picked my replacement."

So it had been planned out. Nesta, pulling threads like a spider, undoing the careful, happy work of Feyre's life. No. No, this couldn't be happening. Not to her family. Not again. Not when she finally had everything she could have ever wanted -

"As High Lady, I forbid it. You're our general. You can't vacate your post without permission."

Her voice trembled, but Feyre planted her feet and stood firm. Cassian gave a sad, half smile.

"Sorry, little sister. I already have."

#my fic writing #fic idea #nessian #anti ic #pro nesta

[randomperson3736]

It's too late

Paring: Jason todd x fem! Reader, Roy Harper x Bestfriend! Reader

Genre: angst

Warning(s): character death, guns, blood, shooting, mentions of pregnancy, mention of pregnant women dying, sad

Word bank: Y/N- your name, S/N- your son's name

Note: So, I just finished reading 'Ace' on wattpad and omg I am in tears 😭 but anyway when I was reading the part where Sofia dies in Ace's arms I just thought of Jason freaking Todd (it was probably cus of the guns and shit. Hehehe) so now I'm gonna make another sad imagine/ similar scenario to that part with Jason. This may also have a part 2 if requested.

Jason's pov:

I was nervous but I was hoping Y/N couldn't tell; this evening had gone perfect so far and I wanted to keep it that way. I glanced at the table to my right to see Roy giving me a tumbs up for encouragement. I had the ring hidden in my jacket pocket, waiting for the perfect moment. We had just finished dinner, so we just joked around as we talked. It was so easy for me to talk with her even when I'm nervous to the point that I'm shaking.

"Here. Stand up for me" I ushered her suddenly before we stood next to our seats. "Why are we standing?" Y/n questioned nervously; she doesn't like people staring at her. "You've made me a better man and you'll make me a better father. I want you to be by my side forever because you've fixed a broken heart no one thought could be fixed" I said proudly. I wasn't ashamed of people hearing how much I love her. "I love you Y/N, I want to grow old with you, I want to raise our little boy together, I want you to be the person by my side as I take my last breath. I want to be able to look at you everyday and tell you how much I love you" I ramble with a slight smile.

"Beacuse of you, I was able to reconnect with my family and able to forgot about my past. You took my trauma and turned into something beautiful, something like love" I think she finally understood what was about to happen. "It's a simple fact that I love and want to spend the rest of my days with you" I mumbled as I got on one knee. Her face became shocked, as tears started to fill her eyes. "Will you-" I glanced down at the ring before a loud ringing flooded my ears; it was sound of a gunshot. In the background I could hear people screaming and heavy footsteps as if they were running out of the restaurant. I looked back up at Y/N who was as white as a ghost; all the colour had left her skin. My heart stopped when I watched Y/N place her hand on her chest where blood was speeding out. "J-Jason?" She almost whispered, staring at me with widened eyes.

Roy had shot the person behind us, 3 times. "It wasn't meant for her, it was meant for that bastard who killed my brother!" The guy screamed before collapsing. It felt like time had stopped, just for a moment. It was almost like it was going in slow motion, the ringing in my ears had stopped. I stood up just in time to catch Y/N as her body became limp . She collapsed in my arms as I slowly placed us on the cold hard floor. "No" I said, with my face, just was white as hers. "No, no" I mumbled as I cradled her in my arms, I trying helplessly to stop the bleeding. "You're okay. You'll be okay" I mumbled as tears began to well up in my eyes. She just stared at me before putting her hand on my cheek rubbing her tumb over it. "It's okay" she uttered quietly. She was the one reassuring me now. "No, no, no" I finally let the tears spill. "I love you" She blurted out before blood began to dribble from her mouth.

"Please, hold one. I need you" I began to sob. This wasn't fair. "Please don't leave me" she smiled weakly as a tear rolled down her face. "I would if I could" I sobbed uncontrollably as she lay in my arms dying. "Save our little boy" she whispered softly, stroking away a tear from my cheek with her hand that still rested on it. "You need- you need someone to- love you" She was struggling to breath as she began to lose to much blood. "NO, NO PLEASE!" I begged her, but I knew it was no use. "It's too late. Stop t-trying. Please" she whimpered quietly, almost whispering. "I love you Jason. Protect our baby" She uttered as the life left her eyes and her hand fell from my cheek. I sobbed as I held her body closer, her once warm body was now cold at the touch. "I can't do this without you" I sobbed frantically as Roy began to cry behind me. I screamed in pain as I placed my forehead against hers, rocking back and forth with her in my arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" I gasped, struggling for air due to my sobs.

Suddenly, the paramedics ran in. "Sir, you need to give her to us so we can save the baby; we need to do immediate c-section" they ushered, I was too distraught to make any decisions. "SHE'S GONE!" I shouted, as I refused to let her go. "You have to let her go. It's want she wanted" Roy grabbed my shoulder, pulling me away from her as the paramedics got to work. " it was supposed to be me" I repeated as I sobbed, stumbling to my feet. Tear's streamed down Roy's face as he pulled me into a hug. I couldn't believe she was gone. I cried out in pain as Roy held me tighter in his arms. But, moments later, I heard a baby's cry. "It's a miracle, he's alive" I heard the paramedic say as he handed me our baby. I held him close to my chest. "I won't let anyone hurt you" I promised as he cried in my arms. "I'm here, little one" I hushed the baby while tears still streamed down my face.

I was covered in blood which I'm assuming wasn't good for the baby. "Hold him" I mumbled, handing him to Roy. Suddenly my tears stopped as my whole body filled with range. A level of anger I've never reached before. I walked over to the body of the dead man who pulled the trigger, searching for any symbols or gang signs that I might recognise; thats when I found it. Joker's gang symbol, tattooed on the guys neck. Soon I was screaming out of pain and fury.

~~~~~~~~~~~

(Timeskip- still Jason's pov)

I stood in the bathroom as I looked at myself in the mirror. I had blood all over me; on my face, on my clothes, in my hair; who even knows how it got in there. I glanced down at my hands that's haven't stopped shaking since I held Y/N's cold, lifeless body in my arms. They covered in blood. Her blood. I turned on the water and began to wash my hands. My eyes welled up with tears again as I watched the blood slowly come off my skin. It was supposed to be me; the thought kept repeating in my head, making it hard to concentrate on anything. I was tried of crying, I wanted to break something or hit someone but I had no energy so all I could do was cry. I gripped the sink in anger as I remember her face. "I love you always and forever" her voice rang through my head, making me instantly punch the mirror to distract myself from my thoughts. I watched as it shattered into a million pieces as I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. My hand began to bleed; atleast it was my own blood this time.

I went to the kitchen to get the first aid kit before I did anything else. I couldn't care about glass in my hand but I knew I had to take care of it if I wanted to hold my son. I wrapped it up after taking the glass out. I strolled into the sitting room where Roy was sitting holding S/N. Without even being told, Roy handed him over to me. "You do realise we have to have a funeral for her?" Roy blurred out. "I'm not going. You can hold one for her but I want be going" I said with a monotone voice. "But you have too" Roy demanded. "I'm not going, end of discussion" I growled at him, forgetting I was holding my child. "Look what you did!" I shouted at Roy before hushing S/N back to sleep. Roy stormed out while making sure to be quite. "I promise I won't be anything like my father (Bruce); I will be better for you" I whispered before kissing him on the forehead. "I will not let my ego or nightly job get in the away like it did with him. I will care for you as best as I can" I reassured S/N who was now sound asleep in my arms.

#jason todd #x pregnant reader #x fem!reader #roy harper #batfam #fypforyou #jason todd x reader #roy harper x reader #sad