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readychilledwine · 4 months

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hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,

” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”

” it’s my wedding ring ”

and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.

” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”

he smiles faintly and says

” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”

” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”

he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.

” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.

”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍

Haven

Warnings - none

A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜

Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.

The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.

She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."

Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."

Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."

The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."

"Evidently not, my love."

Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.

Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."

"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."

Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.

"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."

He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."

Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."

Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."

Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.

Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.

Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."

He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.

There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."

She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."

"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."

Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."

The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"

Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.

Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."

Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.

You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."

Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."

The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"

Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."

"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."

The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."

You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."

"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"

The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."

You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.

Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.

"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."

Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.

"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."

Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.

She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.

Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #send asks #send anons #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #girldad!azriel x reader

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grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 6 months

Text

Friends Don't | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: you go out to celebrate George's home race win, not even imagining what the night will bring

Warnings: smut, drunk driving, unprotected sex

A/N: you will maybe have to necessarily read part 1 and part 2 hehe. For the sake of the plot, we'll pretend some things already happened. I've spent the whole week writing this and only got it to all click together from the third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? But at least had a blast while editing, which is a rarity. I actually enjoy writing these 'chapters' and building this world sm <3

Sundays were a day for rest and relaxation. A day for sitting down with a good book and a cup of coffee. A day for cuddling up with a loved one and watching a movie. A day for taking some time for yourself; a day to reflect and recharge.

That was, of course, unless your best friend was George Russell. And that your Sundays didn't consist of spending most weekends a year at different race tracks around the world. Not all of them, but you tried to be there for him at least once or twice a month, as much as the opportunity allowed.

That afternoon, George took the checkered flag in Silverstone in P1 and now you were in your room, preparing for tonight's celebration. The victory party was going to be wild, and you knew it. You had seen how George celebrated previous wins, and tonight was going to be no different. Especially because it was his home race.

You took a deep breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. You had dressed to impress, wearing a sparkly blue dress that fit you perfectly. Finishing your look with a pair of strappy heels and a silver necklace, you couldn't help but think about how previous events with George brought you even closer together.

Your friendship kind of became more... intimate. No pun intended. Guess you were both afraid not to lose each other over the past experiences, and that deepened your bond whether either of you wanted to admit or not. Now your only fear was that your closeness wouldn't tear you apart.

A soft knock pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see George standing at the door with a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair tousled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice low and husky. "Ready to party?"

Never before have you paid any mind to the nicknames he called you, but now a thrill ran down your spine. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world.

"I am," you said, smiling at him.

As you stepped out of the door, George took your hand in his and led you to the car waiting outside. The drive to the club was short, but the anticipation was high. The party was in full swing when you arrived; loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

George led you to the VIP section where his friends and family were already celebrating. You saw his siblings and a few of his close racing buddies. You could hear their loud cheering as they saw George walk in with you and feel the envious glares of the other women in the room.

George handed you a glass of champagne and raised his own in a toast. "To the best damn team in the world," he said, looking at you and his friends.

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it go down smoothly. The night was young, and the energy in the room was electric.

The party kept going on as the night deepened, and the noise of the songs blasted through the room. Glasses were filled up with drinks constantly, making it more of an effort to ignore the effects of the booze. You found yourself on the dance floor, surrounded by George and his friends. The bass of the music throbbed in your chest, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm.

Throughout the night, each person had a chance to take their turn with you on the dance floor, and eventually you were spinning around in George's arms. The heat of the club mixed with the buzz of the alcohol made your skin flush against his. You could feel his muscles flexing as he twirled you around, his hand firmly holding onto yours. The closer you danced, the more the tension between you grew.

For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was watching. You moved on him like it was just the two of you in the world, your hands moving over his body like never before, and hips swaying in perfect synchronicity. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on your neck, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses. You felt yourself getting lost in him, and something stirred inside you.

And it seemed like George caught up on your odd behavior as the song faded away. He grabbed your arm and started leading you away from the dance floor until you reached a quiet corner. But your drunken mind wasn't understanding his intentions.

You threw yourself onto him and he had to secure your hips with his hands to stop you from slipping. You let out a hazy chuckle as you started grinding against him once more before he pushed you back against the wall.

"Stop it, that's not why I brought you here."

But you didn't listen. You pulled yourself even closer, letting your lips brush against his neck. "Then why did you bring me here?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, your breath tickling his skin. "The drinks have gone to your head. I brought you here to take a break and cool off a little." he avoided telling you that you were drunk and not acting like yourself, afraid to provoke any unnecessary argument between you two.

Still, you weren't paying any attention. You were too inebriated to realize that your behavior was a little out of character, and you certainly weren't considering the consequences of your actions. You clasped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him again.

George tried to keep a respectable distance between you, pushing his hip backwards as you pushed yours forward, fighting the urge to get too close. That got you into an interesting position; you were leaning against the wall in between his arms with your shoulders as he leaned into you with his upper body. Your hand naughtily ran down his side, poking him. You knew you probably shouldn't touch him, but you couldn't stop yourself. His muscles strained as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're getting awfully close to me," he murmured, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. His fingers slowly slid from their grip on the wall.

"Then don't push me away," you said back.

His face was just inches away now, and your lips unconsciously moved closer. The atmosphere between you two was thick with anticipation, a feeling that you currently relished in. Your lips were only a breath away from his when he spoke.

"We can't." his eyes locked with yours.

"Why?" you asked breathily.

"Because we're best friends." his voice was barely a whisper.

He hoped the reason he gave you would remind you of everything you asked from him that first time. But he didn't tell you that he feared you'd regret it when you sobered up, and that it would be his fault for not stopping it.

"And?" in the state that you were, did he really think that would stop you? He couldn't have been more wrong. You wanted to push him to feel something. Anything. "Best friends can do a lot of things." you smirked.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes still on yours. "No, they can't." he gritted, shaking his head.

"You're right." you said, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "They can't do this." and your hips finally met his.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay level headed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said in desperation, his hands pressed flat on the wall behind you, trying their best not to touch you as they dangerously started slipping down.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your palms as you glided them down his torso. "Remember how you said you can read my body language?"

"Yeah," he breathed, nodding his head.

"What is it telling you now?" you whispered against his lips.

"It's telling me we're going to be in big trouble if you don't stop this," he replied. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"Then don't fight it. Show me." you murmured.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours. Your arms snaked around his neck and fingers twined through the hair at its nape, pulling him closer. You couldn't believe that you had done all those other things, but never kissed. And when ultimately his mouth closed on yours, it was like finally locating the elusive jigsaw piece on a seemingly ordinary Tuesday while tidying up your home that you thought had been lost forever. It made you almost not want to kiss anyone else ever again — almost, because deep down you knew you shouldn't have been doing this in the first place.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his head tilted to get a better angle. The kiss was soft, tentative, like both of you were very aware of what might happen. You pressed your mouth against his more firmly, tasting him. Parting your lips slightly, you felt the silky wetness of his tongue on yours. You bit his lower lip, letting out a deep moan when he groaned in response, hands that were in his hair tugging on the strands slightly. He groaned into your mouth again, pulling you even closer against him. You had no idea how long you were kissing, but it was definitely not enough.

The kiss broke, and you leaned your face against his neck, panting heavily. He glanced down at you, his lips so close to yours that if you had merely lifted your head, they'd be touching again. The warmth emanating from your body made him want to do things he knew he shouldn’t. He placed his forehead against yours, trying desperately to get control of himself.

"We should get back." he said between breaths. Your head was spinning from the alcohol and his scent and the magical kiss, it took you a moment to realize you were no longer kissing him. You opened your eyes and met with him.

"We should, before they realize we're missing." you nodded. He frowned, but his eyes were smiling. He was relieved, but he was also worried for you and what tomorrow might bring when you sobered up.

"Lets go," he said, turning around, but kept an arm around your waist so as to not let you get lost. You looped one arm around his neck, holding onto his shoulder, and gently hit his other shoulder with your head.

The night was still young and the party was still going. Music was playing, people were dancing, and laughter filled the room. Your friends cheered when they saw you two come in together, but neither of you paid any attention to them; all that mattered was that you were here, with him. Guys grabbed drinks for the both of you from different parts of the room and put it in your hands.

You found a spot on the couch and George sat next to you, his arm around your waist protectively. The conversations flowed easily between you two, and soon enough you both forgot what had happened earlier as you joined the rest of the group in drinking, singing along with music and laughing.

He later found you on the dance floor swaying around completely out of rhythm with a drink in your hand. Your face lit up when you saw him.

"There you are, my champion." you leaned into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"I won the race, not the championship.” he chuckled.

“Mm, don’t care. To me you are the champion.” you slurred, pouting.

“Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, supporting you.

"Mmhmm." you mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." you could hear the frown on his face. "You're drunk." he spat as he attempted to take away the half empty glass from your grasp.

"I'm not." you said, feeling yourself lose your balance a little as you swayed back and forth. He put his arm around you to help you balance.

"Yes, you are. I should've taken you home the first time around." he sighed, somehow not surprised you managed to get even drunker. You were both intoxicated for that matter, it's just that George knew how to hold his liquor. And he looked to never go over his limit in case something like this happened.

"No." you tried to pull away from him.

"I'm taking you home." he tightened his grip around you, leading you out of the party. You mumbled something in response, not quite sure what you were saying.

He helped you into his car and buckled your seat belt for you, before getting in himself. He drove slowly, carefully navigating the roads while you were almost passed out in his passenger seat. Every now and then he'd take a hand off the wheel to reach over and brush your hair away from your face or wipe away a stray tear from your cheek if one escaped your eye. As he turned into your street and parked the car, your eyes fluttered open.

"Um, could you walk me to the door?" you asked.

"I was planning on it," he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

Both of your arms wrapped around his left one, holding on for support, as he walked you to your apartment. Your little nap helped clear the haze from your head, but you were still tipsy. When you reached the entrance of your flat, you propped yourself against the door and blinked up at him.

"Do you want to come inside?" inviting your best friend into your home have never before seemed more dangerous and George should've known better than to say yes.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you asked to break an awkward silence that fell among you the moment he shut the door.

Before even waiting for his answer, you made your way towards the kitchen, but he extended his arm and grabbed your waist, preventing you from moving further.

"I think we both had enough to drink tonight," he said.

"Then what do you want to do?" you whispered.

"I want to claim my prize." he must have had a few more drinks than usual at the club to summon up the courage for that sentiment.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, the alcohol still fogging your mind but not enough to miss the implication of his words. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. His hand still rested on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your dress.

"Is that what I am, a prize?"

"No, no." he said quickly, his eyes softening. "You're so much more than that, you know that." his hand cupped the side of your face. "When I saw you looking up at me on the podium today, I realized I couldn't have done it without you. You were the one who had been cheering me on from the sidelines all this time. You've been there for me when no one else was." he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You've been my lucky charm all these years and I want to show you how much you mean to me."

The way he was looking at you made your chest heave with a mixture of emotions. You were both under the influence, and you knew this was not the best time to make decisions, but you couldn't resist him. You leaned in and attached your lips together again, only this time with more passion, more desire. You could feel his hands running through your hair as he kissed you back, his tongue playing with yours, his body pressing against yours.

He pulled away, looking at you with a hunger you had never seen before. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to say anything. His lips crashed onto yours, hungrily claiming your mouth as his own. Your body responded to his touch, your hands roaming over his chest and tangling in his hair. He lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. Climbing on top of you, his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. You moaned softly, your hands gripping tightly onto his muscular back. He pulled his lips away from you, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

You nodded, reaching up and pulling him back down. He gently kissed you again and you responded in kind, but he pulled away again.

"I'll stop if you tell me to." he whispered. "I don't want to do this unless you want to."

"I want to." you murmured. The alcohol may have distorted your judgment, but it surely helped your courage.

"Are you sure?" he asked a third time. You laughed softly, trying to push him off. He had you pinned to the mattress, still pressing you down.

"Yes, I'm sure." you said, no longer laughing.

That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you hard, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of your dress. He ran his hands underneath, gently resting them on your ribs, and pulled your dress upwards. You lifted your hands above your head, freeing him of the task of removing your dress as you squiggled out of it and freed yourself from the restriction that was your dress.

He kissed you again, letting his hands run over your bare skin. His lips kissed down your throat and chest, his hands undoing your bra. He pulled it away and tossed it aside, taking in the sight of you.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. You blushed, and he smiled. His lips traveled down your leg, gently caressing the outside of your thigh. "But I'm a little jealous, you know?" his lips traveled back up, his tongue tracing over the slope of your breast and hands kneading them softly. "You got to taste me, and I..."

He kissed his way down your body, his hands going over every inch of exposed skin, reminding you how skillfully he handled you that very first time. He reached your inner thigh and slid his hand underneath your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his fingers brush against you before a long finger slid inside you. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs apart for him. He smiled against your neck, his teeth taking in your skin, his tongue leaving a trail of fire behind.

His finger slowly moved inside you, circling you before sliding in and out. His hand pulled your underwear down, you kicking them off to the side. His mouth moved down your figure, hovering over your breasts. He teased you for a moment, blowing against your nipples before drawing the tip of his tongue over one. He did the same with the other, his fingers never ceasing to move. His kisses continued further down, over your stomach until they reached your mound.

"Can I?" he asked, peeking at you.

"Please..." you tried to hide the shake in your voice.

His tongue slid between your lips, gently licking you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. He teased you, his tongue circling your clit before sliding inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, his hands holding your thighs apart. You spread your legs even wider, your body arching up to him. He leaned in, gently sucking on your clit and you moaned loudly, his tongue moving faster. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against his face.

You were nearing your end, your moans growing louder with every movement of his tongue. You could feel his lips smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. You cried out, your body tensing as you came, shaking against him. He pulled away, slowly kissing his way up to the top again. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not hurrying you up as you sucked in his bottom lip, squeezing out your own juices.

"Taking that trophy is the second best thing that has ever happened to me." he whispered. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "The first, of course, being you. You're my greatest reward." he continued as you trailed kisses down his neck, removing the shirt off his shoulders.

"Stop talking, George."

"Sorry," he whispered as he closed his eyes, surrendering above you.

You kissed his chest, your nails raking up and down his sides, feeling his muscles tense. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and could sense the urgency in his touch. His hardness pressed against you, begging to be liberated. You pulled away from him, reaching for his belt buckle and his eyes shot open, hands reaching for yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. He knew if you go any further there would be no going back and some irreversible things would be done.

"Are you sure?" you asked back, smiling mischievously. "I thought this is what you wanted." your nail dangerously circled around his lower abdomen, causing his breath to hitch with every word he spoke.

"I-I do. I'm just making sure you're not doing it just because I want it." you could tell he was really struggling to hold himself back.

"I think we've already established that..." you whispered against his lips and prompted your body more to his.

"Okay," his hand moved away from yours, and you undid his belt.

His pants fell around his feet and he kicked them off. His boxers were the last thing left, and you reached for them, slowly pulling them down. His hand held the back of your head as he kissed you, his tongue twirling around yours. You moved to pull away but he held on tighter.

His boxers hit the floor and you looked up at him, his hands resting on your frame. Gently taking your hand, he placed it on his dick. You gasped, feeling it grow even more underneath your touch. He pulled away, his lips planting kisses down your neck as his hand guided yours up and down his length. You felt him shiver as you grazed the tip with your nails, his breath hitching. He removed his hand, and your eyes shot open when you felt his tip brush against your entrance.

He teased you, running it up and down your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, your back arching against him. The more he prolonged what you needed the most, the more your neediness grew. You tried to guide him inside you but he resisted, placing a finger on your lips instead. He dragged it over them before he made you suck on it, his eyes never leaving your face as he blew a stream of air out. Your eyes widened when you felt his head brush against you again, making you gasp audibly, his name falling from your lips.

"Please," you remembered what he told you the first time he had you in his arms like this. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please..." you chanted over and over again.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. Hearing you beg for him made his head spin again. It was like you'd put him under a spell every time you'd utter that word and he'd not be able to deny you anything. Not that he ever wanted.

He slowly pushed inside of you, stopping at every inch to wait for you to adjust. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to move again. He kissed you, your nails digging into his back as he stretched you more. He was so gentle, it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. This was not the normal rough, lustful sex. This was the man who loved the sight of you, the sounds of your pleasure. This was the man who wanted to make love to you, to show you what true pleasure was.

Your fingers sank into his back again, and he responded by thrusting into you harder, your moans getting louder. His lips traveled down your chest, his tongue flicking a nipple as he pushed into you again.

"Oh, god." you moaned, George's name falling from your mouth repeatedly. Your hands dug into the sheets as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"You feel so good... so damn good," he kissed your skin. "Making me feel like I don't ever want to take anybody else again."

"Don't stop, please, whatever it is that you're doing, please, just don't stop." you cried, twining your legs around him to press him deeper.

He moaned in pleasure when you did, his hands tightening their grip around you. His breathing grew heavier and faster, your bodies reacting to each other. He was so close, and he could feel you held right on the edge.

You cried out his name, your form shuddering under him. He had no intention of stopping, and he continued his movements as you kept shaking, your voice loud enough to wake up the whole apartment complex.

"You, George, only you…" you whispered into his ear as you were coming down.

You felt his whole build shake, his cock pulsing inside of you, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to hear him as he climaxed. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, the sweetest song in the world.

"George… George…" you panted, your breathing coming out in jagged breaths.

He cursed, as his body trembled with pleasure. His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he came. You buried your face in his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. He kissed you, holding you close to him. He wanted to stay inside you forever, to feel the sight of your face as he pleased you. You did that to him. You were the one making him see another reality where only he and you existed.

But he pulled away, your eyes searching for his as you slowly came back to reality. He kissed you again, his lips landing on yours.

"That was amazing… you were amazing…" he whispered, stroking your face gently.

"So were you." you said back, playing with the bangs that fell over his forehead.

He rested his head on your chest, finding a comfortable spot, your hands moving into his hair.

"Are you going to stay?" you whispered, uncertain.

"Only if you want me to."

"Always."

He hugged you tightly and rolled over so that you were now on top of him. His fingers softly ran along your back as your body let go and fully relaxed. The peaceful sound of your heartbeats and his breath seemed to take over the room. You drew near to him, feeling the up and down movements of his chest gently rock you to sleep, matters of your friendship left for tomorrow's morning news.

Next part

2K notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 3 days

Note

hi luna, i found ur fics on ao3 and ran my ass to tumblr bc i just needed more of ur writing. you're so talented!!

i was wondering if you could write a lo'ak x reader story similar to the step bro!teyam fic where he makes contact with the sex pollen. it could be step bro!lo'ak or just reader's bsf idm bc i've been thinking abt that fic for agessss and i'd die for a lo'ak version even where reader is the one that touches the pollen instead 😭🫶 pretty pls and thanks in advance （╹◡╹）♡

Forbidden desires

adult Stepbro!Lo‘ak x female omatikaya reader

Words: 3.8k

Summary: Nine times out of ten, when you were sent to one of those old, abandoned RDA outpost facilities, it went just fine. But there's always that tenth time.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (they’re not blood related), sex pollen, cowgirl position, creampie, teasing, praise

Nine times out of ten, when you were sent to one of those old, abandoned RDA outpost facilities, it went just fine. But there's always that tenth time. And of course it’s when your accompanied by your older stepbrother, who somehow seemed to magically attract any kind of danger ever since he was a kid.

Scavenging abandoned laboratories for essential supplies that the clan could use was usually safer than it sounded, but this place, it was far off your usual research zone and Jake- dad, he said you could call him dad. Well dad said, it would be better to not go alone this time, just in case.

The once bustling scientific havens now stands as a relict of the past, slowly succumbing to the relentless embrace of nature. The laboratory emerges from the foliage, structure weathered and worn by time. Moss and ivy clings to the cracked walls, intertwining with rusted metal equipment. Vines creep through broken windows and shattered glass, casting intricate patterns of sunlight onto the decaying floors.

This place smells sharp, metallic, so much like tawtutes [humans] and the rotting smell of death and burnt earth they leave behind. Not exactly a pleasant scent.

Inside, a sense of eerie tranquility fills the air. Dust particles dance in the faint beams of light that manage to pierce through the overgrown canopy. Dilapidated shelves line the walls, remnants of long-forgotten experiments, holding faded vials and forgotten notes.

Lab benches, once polished and pristine, now bear the scars of abandonment papers lay strewn across the floor, their text faded and illegible. The hum of electricity has long been silenced, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the fluttering wings of Riti [Stingbats] that were abruptly woken by the two na‘vi entering the long forgotten building.

Amongst the ruins, you search meticulously, your eyes scanning for useful remnants. You carefully examine cabinets, hoping to uncover unused medicine, bandages, exo packs that are still intact or any other useful tools.

Your stepbrother however, seemed to have other plans in mind.

"You shouldn’t touch that", you said, snatching his wrist mid way of him prodding at what you hoped was a fake skeleton. Lo‘ak let out a chuckle as he gazed down at you, both of his brows raised in amusement as he wriggled his hand free of your hold.

"Relax, tsmuke [sister]. Are you always this uptight when going on your little adventures?"

"I‘m not uptight, Lo‘ak. I‘m being careful", you said, shaking your head. "Jak– Dad taught me to be. You never know what the vrrteps [demons] could possibly be hiding here. And this isn’t an adventure, we‘re here to get supplies!"

"Right, of course. We‘re on a very important mission here", Lo’ak scoffs sarcastically, then proceeds to yank at the skeletons arm and point it in your direction, poking your hip with the boney finger when you roll your eyes at him. "You think they have traps set here to capture cute na‘vi girls? Ohh, isn’t that scary?"

"You’re an idiot", you giggle, swatting the hand away and playfully slapping your stepbrothers arm.

You both then take the steps up to the second floor of the building, and when you round a corner, you stop dead in your tracks. There was a "DO NOT ENTER" sign taped to the door that was slowly starting to peel off.

Experiments on animals or even na‘vi weren’t really uncommon, and you knew the horrors that the RDA was capable of, had heard and seen it yourself, especially in those research laboratories. Which is why you weren’t sure if whatever awaited behind this door was worth the few extra exo packs and bandages.

"We shouldn’t–"

"Oh, yes we should", Lo‘ak is quick to cut you off, all too eager to push the heavy metal door open. A rush of stale air fills your nostrils and you grimace at the smell.

"I should’ve just asked Neteyam to come with me", you mumble under your breath, closely following Lo‘ak into the room, who had a wide, excited grin on his face.

"And miss out on all the real fun?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "Yeah, you two would clearly make the better duo."

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help the feeling of unease that grew inside you, your eyes darting around the room, while your stepbrother's curiosity only intensified. Ignoring your trepidation, Lo‘ak stepped forward, drawn to a large, dusty table at the center of the room.

Among the scattered papers and broken equipment laid a few conical flasks, some of them still filled with droplets of a strange liquid.

Turning on your heals you took a quick 360°-spin. The room was small enough to get an overall view in less than a few seconds. There was nothing but this table and broken laboratory equipment. Nothing that seemed to be of worth for the clan, so you glanced back over your shoulder, already heading back to the door as you pleaded, "Lo‘ak, come on. There’s nothing in here, let’s just go back."

Lo’ak however, couldn't resist the temptation to tease you, playfully waving one of the glasses around. "Killjoy", he mutters under his breath, before shouting, "Here, catch", and throwing the conical flask in your direction. You shriek as you jump around to try and catch the glass in time, but it slips right past your fingers.

You both watch it fall like it’s happening in slow motion, until it bursts on the floor and the glass shatters in thousand little pieces.

As soon as the liquid inside makes contact with the tiled floor, it morphs into a small cloud of steam that smells awfully sweet and you end up coughing a few times before sending a glare in Lo‘aks direction. Sucking in a sharp breath, he makes an apologetic face and rushes to your side, careful not to step in any of the glass shards. "Shit, sorry! I‘m so sorry, are you hurt?"

"No, skxawng [moron]. I‘m fine", you clear your throat, "Great mother, you’re acting like such a child sometimes…"

"Yeah, I hear that a lot", he grins and you can’t help but smile at the coy flick of his tail. "C‘mere, can’t let you get hurt or dad will skin me", he murmurs, pointing at the glass, before scooping you into his arms and carrying you out of the room.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and tickles Lo‘aks neck as you rest your chin on his shoulder. Your heart was still pounding from the scare, harder than you would like to admit. Nuzzling closer to his neck, you allowed your eyes to rest for a moment, just breathing in the natural, soothing scent of his skin, while he carried you downstairs. He smells so much like cedarwood, leather and freshly cut grass, you notice. And something else that you can’t quite put a name on, but it tingles your nostrils and makes goosebumps raise on the nape of your neck.

"You smell good", you mumble the words before you can throughly think them through, while pressing your nose against his throat. Your lips graze his skin and you can feel his upper body stiffen at that. "Was that a weird thing to say?" You ask calmly, almost a little too calm.

There’s a moment of silence before Lo‘ak shakes his head and murmurs a quick, "no."

Back at the main entrance, he gives a light squeeze to your hips, signaling you that he would let you down to your feet now, but your arms wrap around his neck tightly. He just smells so good, you want to stay here for a while longer. Lo‘ak is strong, you know he could effortlessly carry you all day.

"Can you hold me for a while longer?" Your own voice seems so far gone, so far away, you don’t even hear yourself properly, don’t even realize you’re speaking at all. Your skin tingles where Lo‘ak has his arms wrapped around you, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm, pressing yourself closer against him.

"Tanhì [little star], are you… are you okay?"

"Hmh", you hum, crossing your ankles behind his back like a Syaksyuk [prolemuris] clinging to it‘s mother.

"Are you sure?" There’s genuine concern in his voice, one of his hands running up your back, feeling your temperature at the nape of your neck. "You’re kind of burning up a little."

Your response almost sounds like a drunken mumble, "hmm strange. My heart‘s beating pretty fast too." It’s followed by a little giggle, and Lo‘ak frowns.

He‘s not panicking, not yet, but he knows something is wrong. This was really, really not normal behavior for you. He feels your face entirely too close to his pulse point, can feel your nose nuzzling against him, your lips brushing his throat. It’s not a kiss, he tries to make himself believe.

You’re not kissing up and down his throat. You’re not, because that would be wrong. Why would you— and then he feels it. Your tongue. His whole body shivers at the wet glide of your tongue on his throat, and Lo‘ak swallows thickly, before coming back to his senses.

"O-Okay, listen, uhm, I’m gonna put you down now", he scrambles, untangling you from his body to set you down to your feet. Your knees seem a little weak and Lo‘ak can’t help but reach out to hold you steady, ignoring the way it makes you blush and lean in on him again.

It doesn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that whatever was in that glass container must’ve been some sort of drug or whatever. As soon as the coin drops, Lo‘aks heart fills with guilt. His expression shifts to that of worry and uncertainty as he ponders if calling his father would be a good idea. He knows he has to make sure you’ll be okay, has to get you to the tsahìk, but he knows just as well that dad will most definitely skin him alive if he finds his precious adoptive daughter in this condition.

"I feel weird, Lo'", you snap him out of his train of thoughts. Lo’aks hands are on your upper arms, holding you steady while simultaneously keeping some distance between you and him. His eyes scan you up down, and he almost chokes on his spit as he catches the way you clench your thighs together, squirming, and fiddling with the fabric of your loincloth. "Feels really weird… here", you tell him in a hushed whisper, one of your hands bullying it’s way between your clenched thighs. Your eyes are half lidded and glassy as you stare up at him through your lashes, your cheeks flushed in a dark red.

Now he’s panicking.

"S-Shit", he sputters. His eyes are wide as he adverts his gaze to somewhere, anywhere else but you, trying not to look at his stepsister touching and rubbing herself over her clothes. That’s bad, that’s really, really bad. "Let’s just get you home, yeah? I‘m– I‘m sure there’s a cure to whatever it is that you have."

One quick glance down to see if you had even heard what he just said, and he finds you still clumsily rubbing your hands between your thighs, seeking some sort of relief. "But you", he swallows thickly, "you really need to stop doing that, okay?" Lo’ak knows he doesn’t even sound half convincing, and it takes him more than just a bit of effort to not stare at you right now.

You look back at him under your lashes, bite your bottom lip and shake your head and he knows you’re doing that on purpose— working him up with those helpless little noises, sweet sounds of need and pleasure, thighs clenching and unclenching around your own hand.

"C-Can’t you just help me? Please, I- I need you."

One of your hands then closes around his wrist and before he realizes to where you’re guiding him, his palm cups your still covered cunt. He feels your slick drench the woven coverings under his fingertips and his eyes widen. "Need you here", you plead. "It hurts so bad, Lo‘ak. I‘m so empty."

"I– I can’t, we shouldn’t—" Lo’ak shakes his head, seemingly torn, but suddenly your lips press against his and he just can’t find it in himself to pull away.

Your lips are so soft, softer than he imagined (not that he imagined what kissing you would be like, ever) and the moment Lo‘ak finds himself kissing back you surge forward, the grip around his wrist tightens, urging him to stay right there, teeth nipping at his bottom lip until his lips part and he can taste you, your tongue slipping inside his mouth, your salvia mixing with his.

Your kiss is forceful and he’s so much more into it than he thought he’d ever be. And when you pull back your lips are red and wet, and he knows his mouth is probably a perfect mirror to yours.

"Fuck, tanhì, baby", he whispers, "Gonna get me in trouble…" And in an instant he’s on you again. His tongue tingles as it curls around yours, with drool running down his chin as he backs you up against a tree. You cling to him, desperate and wanting, not letting go of his wrist until he makes you understand that he’s only pulling away to get that damn loincloth out of the way. It nearly rips with the effort of getting it off, but when he finally succeeds you both clumsily pull each other to the ground.

This is wrong, he thinks as he spreads your legs opens. This is so wrong, he thinks as he runs his hands up and down your body, your chest, pushing your top out of the way.

You look so beautiful like this, chest heaving and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Hair messy and eyes dark with lust, pupils so blown it should make him worry, but he can’t bring himself to care when his gaze falls to the space between your thighs where slick oozes out of you in a concerning amount.

"Please- Please put it in, I need you", you slur, spreading your thighs further apart. "Need you inside."

Your pussy looks red and puffy, so sensitive as he runs two digits through your folds and then gently pushes them in. You gasp, but open up perfectly for him. It’s not enough, Lo‘ak can feel it. He curls his fingers, pumps them in and out a few times to hear those sweet moans tumble from your parted lips.

"You have to promise you won’t hate me after this", he says under his breath. His thumb glides over your clit, gently pushing its little hood up to bring the little nub into view and he can almost feel it throb under his touch. "I‘m just helping you out because you asked for it, alright?" Lo‘ak says it as if he’s talking to himself, reassuring that you want this, it’s okay, and maybe it actually is. Peeling his eyes away from the mouthwatering sight between your thighs he finally looks back up at you, swallowing the salvia that has been pooling in his mouth. "Promise you won’t hate me. Please." The restrain is clear in his voice, but he’s nowhere near as needy as you are. "C’mon, baby, say it. Tell me with your words."

"I won’t hate you, Lo‘ak just please–" Suddenly you shove him by the shoulders, rolling over until you’re the one straddling him, pinning him down to the ground. Your hand impatiently reaches between your thighs and feels for his cock, before repositioning it to prod his tip at your entrance. He bucks up into your hand as you give his cock a few pumps, pre-cum dribbling through your fingers.

The sight of him beneath you sends a throb straight to your cunt.

Lo‘ak sucks in a breath just as he’s about to tell you to wait, slow down, but then you‘re already slamming yourself down onto him without remorse. Fuck, it's so easy. Fits right in like a glove; overwhelmingly wet and warm, a terrible combination that scares him.

A punched out moan breaks from his throat as he feels the tightness of your velvety-like walls envelope his length. He’s so deep inside you, he can feel your cervix kissing his tip and it sends a shudder up his spine.

It's almost an out-of-body experience as you get on your haunches and lift yourself up, the head of his cock still nudged against your entrance, and he watches your gleaming lips part before you sink all the way back down again, taking him into the softest, most delicate parts of yourself.

Lo‘ak feels it and knows that he can’t change anything about the way he’s completely surrendering to your control- and he absolutely fucking loves it.

It’s so wrong, but that’s what brings a tingle to his fingertips. So dirty, but that’s what makes heat raise under his skin like a fire burning down a forest.

Lo’ak watches the way your belly contracts visibly, in time with the hitch in your breath at the first few thrusts. Your thighs tense and your fingers finds his braids to anchor yourself, and his hands find your hips and push you down harder on his length and he’s startled to realise how soft you are now, yielding to him in ways he’d never have imagined once. You’re putty in his hands, ridden by nothing but pleasure. A carnal need.

It’s luck that the adventures in Lo’aks life gave or showed him at least a bit of reservoirs of self-control that his karyus [teachers] never thought he had, because after those first few thrusts, you ride him vigorously.

Lo’ak doesn’t know how you’re this in sync, but he knows you want him to fuck you hard and fast. With his hands still gripping your hips tightly, he drives deep and eagerly into your weeping cunt, welcomed by that glorious softness again and again, and you wrap your arms around his neck and meet his thrusts as best as you can.

"Lo‘ak", you draw out his name in a long, pathetic moan, "more, need more!"

"Great mother, you’re greedy, baby," he huffs out in a laugh, grips your hips and holds you down on his cock for a second longer than necessary, just to feel your little cunt pulsate around him. You struggle briefly, before picking up the pace again, bouncing harder than before, but also more uncoordinated.

"S‘just so good," you slur, sounding almost drunk. "You feel so good inside me. Fuck me harder!"

Your tongue lolls out and he catches you mid way, tongues meeting in a hungry, filthy kiss. You taste awfully sweet as you moan into it, and Lo‘ak can’t help but think you would want spurs right now, to urge him on all the more. As if he needs that when you kiss him like this, when you hold him so close he feels your tits, soft and warm and perfect, press against his chest.

His cock throbs and you’re starting to quiver now, distinct from the more deliberate movements you both make. It shows in your breasts, makes your thighs tremble against his sides and makes tremors in your stomach muscles.

For a moment it switches from bouncing to grinding, and Lo‘ak knows what you’re trying to do. You grind and rub your needy little clit against his pubic bone, let out desperate noises of pleasure while you hump him.

Lo‘ak makes a hungry humming noise in return which he feels through his lips, once you break away from the kiss, then a breathy groan when he captures a nipple between his teeth. His tongue swirls around the little nub before he tugs and he enjoys the way you clench around him at this.

One of his hands comes up to palm the other, kneading your soft flesh and twirling a nipple between his digits.

"Come for me", he then says, flat tongue gliding over your breast before goosebumps raise underneath. "Come for me, tsmuke. Do it."

The scream you let out is borderline pornographic. It brings tears to your eyes and nearly tips you off balance if it weren’t for Lo‘ak holding you, fucking you through it with short but deep thrusts that send you gasping for air. "Hmh, there it is. Good girl," he groans, "keep coming for me, baby, just like that. Let it all out for your big bro, yeah? Let me feel how bad you wanted this. Look at me."

You force your eyes to stay on him, watch him as you fall apart, rocking your hips for that little bit of extra friction, and Lo’ak feels all of it. The wetness where you are slipping together, the tightness, the little tremors of your body, the pulse of your clit as it rubs against him.

Lo‘ak doesn’t even realize he’s coming himself because he’s entirely too focused on you. He’s bluntly staring at you, eyes half open, mouth agape. It’s like he is trying to burn the image of your pleasure ridden face and your picture perfect body on top of him into his brain forever. He wants to keep it stored away just for himself, to come back to after this is over because he knows he can’t have you again. Because this can’t happen again.

The wet plap, plap, plap of his thrusts continues until your thighs begin to shake and he’s sure he has emptied even the last drop of his cum into your core. It’s back to just grinding then, wet bodies pressing together, closer and closer until neither of you can’t move anymore.

You’re panting, exhausted and spent, your chest heaving to inhale big gulps of air into your burning lungs. Blinking a few times, Lo‘ak notes that your eyes are halfway back to normal, pupils not as big as they were, your skin feeling less feverish but all the more sticky than before.

Good, that’s good, right?

"You," a pause, he swallows, "you okay?"

Nodding and a little out of breath you confirm it with a quick, breathy, "yeah."

There’s a long, long moment of silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, sweat still pearling at your forehead and messy hair framing your beautiful face. Lo‘ak looks at you like he’s afraid breaking the eye contact would break the spell and you would shove him away and call him disgusting, but you don’t.

"I'm not sorry, you know" he says finally, when he can’t stand it anymore. "I would do it again. For you. I will do it again, in a heartbeat, if I...."

"If you have to," you finish for him.

Lo’ak considers pushing it, considers holding your face and speak more firmly so he could be sure he had your full attention while he tried to make you get it. "Yeah," he says gently instead, risking a half hearted grin that would surely give him away. "If I have to."

384 notes · View notes

emsvertigo · 2 months

Text

Be My Angel ⋆·˚ ༘ *

"holding on to you, holding on to me, holding on tight 'till my love is crossed."

summary & genre — fluff. a slow morning wake up with paul, perhaps it'll bring confessions of love.

warnings — mentions of pregnancy, sexual references, brief descriptions of death & injury, me being in love with paul

character & pairings — paul atreides x fem!reader

word count — 2.4k

a/n — this is a bit of a shorter fic than the others I'm planning as i'm trying to get back into the swing of writing after so long! i couldn't resist writing this about paul as i have fallen back in love with one of my favourite characters. i hope you all enjoy! <3

find my masterlist here!

˚ · • . ° .

You awoke to his fingertips drifting their way across your frame, peppering the freckles and moles on your skin with smooth motions. His calloused fingers were careful not to apply heavy pressure, ghosting along your body, in fear of disturbing your slumber, something he had subconsciously accomplished.

The sunlight was trickling through the sheer curtains, material floating in the warm breeze that the Arrakis air had blessed you with. Shimmers of gold danced their way into the cascade of blankets that shrouded the two intertwined bodies in a covering of comfort. The tangled mess of limbs beneath the protective silk sheets radiated warmth, something that was in plentiful supply in the desert world. The bustle of groups in the courtyard below the haven where you rested began to rise in volume as your ears adapted to the surroundings.

You moaned sincerely, exhaling for as long as your lungs would psychically allow without a cough erupting from your throat. Your eyes slowly open in a drunkenly sleepy state, the sunlight from outside temporarily overwhelming your perception of the world for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut while your body lets out a whine of a yawn. You stirred, flushing your hips and rear against the build behind you, Paul breathed deeply in response sending tingles up your neck and into your thoughts.

His warm hands continued their travels around your body, wrapping their way around your shoulders to hold you close. You found your lips turning in a delirious smile, as you imagined the drowsy figure of devotion behind you, nestled against your warmth and the pillows behind him. Your back pressed into his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, a careful whisper falling from his lips; “I did not mean to wake you.”

He tenderly planted a kiss against the skin that lay there, softly rubbing his cheek against the blemishes decorated along your skin, soaking in your very human spirit. You feel the curve of his jaw drift along your nape as his gentle, slow, kisses make their way along your neck, breathing in every inch of your scent he could take. You moaned in response, opening your eyes totally this time, your body used to the sudden shock of being alive.

“I’m glad you did.” You responded, your voice still groggy, clinging to the last linger of your immobile delicate state. You lay, basking in the calmness that enveloped your being, gently sneaking one of your hands along the front of your nightgown, careful not to disturb Paul’s peaceful position, as you brought a finger up to itch at your eye. His warm breath hummed into your neck in response, your heartbeat aching for him once more. A breath fell from your lips as he held you tightly, taking in the moment as he merged your bodies together into one tenderness engulfed by his power and strength. You savoured the moment like a sip of sweet wine after a hectic meeting, swirling the droplets of love like rivers of drink.

The room around you bathed in your tranquillity. You found your legs moving with your newfound sense of cognition, intertwined in your lover’s frame. The pools of light from the arched windows gushed down the side of the windowsill, soaking the bed and the corner of the room in a stunning haze of molten gold, almost blurry from the waves of blistering heat. The light reflected beautifully off the bed frame, dripping down the carved animal shapes etched within the golden slab, blinding your gaze as your eyelids fluttered. You breathed in, a wave of zesty air running through your nostrils, cleansing the inner workings of your mind with the very soul of the planet.

As you took your sudden breath, you felt Paul's hold shift beneath you under the weight of your slight movement. You seized the moment, taking advantage of his sudden loose grip, adjusting your position and surrendering the window for a better more perfect view. Paul followed your movements as if you were conjoined in thought, his strong arms instinctively enveloping your back, holding you close against his chest in a protective embrace, even though there were no instantaneous threats nearby. You felt his heartbeat slow against your chest, steady and reassuring, his bare skin shining in the light.

As you now faced him, you couldn't help the smile that thrived on your lips, taking in the sight of your betrothed so close. The boy you once knew had transformed into a man before your eyes, a thought which made your heart ache in the face of growing up, leaving adolescence behind. His jawline was more defined, leaving pudgyness behind him, cheekbones higher and his features so handsome and distinguished. A real Duke's son. You felt a sudden rush of rich emotion as your hand traced its fingertips along the side of his jaw, marvelling at how he had grown and changed. His eyes quivered with the sudden light pressure of your skin against his bones.

“Hello.” You beamed softly, his features soaked in the glitter of gold, sparkling along his face and drooping down his perfect nose. The side of his lips began to upturn with a small smile, a flash of his crooked teeth blessing your vision for the smallest second before they were covered by his beautifully pink lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed your way, eyelids almost fighting to stay open, threatening to close because of your close proximity. His hair, messier than usual, fell in delicate strands around his face, framing the perfect bone structure laying there, his cheeks hugging the curls close to his flushed skin.

“Hi.” He breathed, the air fanning across your face as he left a short kiss on your nose, lingering for a moment longer than needed before retreating back to face you. Your heart fluttered, still slightly dozy, but ever so alert for your man. Your special, special, man.

The relationship between you two hadn't sprung up overnight, it had been a cocktail of emotions dancing in the embers of a powerful childhood friendship. However, every subject, noble, royal, or warrior thought the former, that your relationship had been a strategised plan by two houses in desperate need of strength. The concerns of your emotions had been thrown in a heap in favour of their taled hearsay, sheltering your true desires for one other behind a mask of misleading plot and scheme.

From the moment you had first met Paul, soft cheeks that burned deep crimson, green eyes that shone like emeralds in inquiring and thoughtful gaze, baby fat still hanging from his frame, you had known he would be yours. You had taken his hand, being the older of the duo, and whisked him through the castle grounds in which your residence was kept. You documented how he had blushed when your finger outlined his hand when trying to imitate your mother's palm reading practices, thinking it hilarious when he had goggled at you in disbelief when you had told him his death was nigh, throwing your head back, laughing at your own foolishness. You didn't know it then, too sheltered by the shadows of youth and innocence to understand the burning ache that overpowered your every meeting with the delicate boy.

Although caught in the memory, you pondered how these feelings had never been addressed between the two of you. Only acted upon in burning frenzies, unmarried and improper. The naked warmth laying beside you, arms holding you close, was a byproduct of one of these moments. Parents and advisers oblivious to the intense lust you two harboured for one other.

“Did you sleep well?” He pondered, retreating to face you, his eyes darting from eye to eye unable to focus on one, desperate to take in all your features at once. The shimmering green of his eyes almost opaque in the light, shining a shade of hazel into the retinas.

“I did.” You smiled, recollecting the dream that flooded your mind when nestled in between the pillows and Paul’s figure. How real it had felt, “I dreamt of you.”

He hummed in response, as your hands continued their journey along his beautiful jaw, the stubble of manhood ghosting over your fingers as a reminder of his age. The dream had been simple, a premonition, a glimpse into the future of you and your sweet boy.

The sand beneath your feet had glimmered, Spice dancing over the sunburnt dune in which you had been perched. Paul looked different, older, wiser, almost an image of his father, standing proud and bold against the Arrakis rays. His frame was larger as if he had started taking his role as sole heir to his house's name seriously, the unquestionable probability that his father may not be alive forever finally sinking into his mind. He wore a Fremen stillsuit, fitting him like a glove and hugging his newfound larger muscles in a promiscuous yet savage way. Your hands had interlocked as you looked out into the vast desert, your body also adorning a suit of a similar nature, modified presumably by Paul to fit your frame and protect your body's water, storing it for later consumption. A small tent village was buried in the sandy dip below you both, lights and laughter emulating in the dying sun.

When your fingers had interlocked Paul turned to face you, the difference in his features striking you. His hair was longer, as though it hadn't been cut for a few months. The curls still framed his face, which was now older and worn, blemishes patterning the skin from work in the daylight, the planet consuming his once delicate and prince-like qualities. Small wrinkles lined his face, and his mouth turned up in a small treasuring gin, the corners of his eyes creasing in a look of eternal gratitude. But his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. Plunged into the deepest pool of oceanic blue, the colour reaching all across the sclera of his optics, swimming in his iris like a monumental wave on Caladan. A trademark of the Fremen, indigenous people of Arrakis, a sign that he, even you both, had been in their company for a period. He had drawn you in for a kiss, closing his eyes and pressing your lips together softly. One of his hands had gradually reached down the front of your suit, landing carefully on your stomach as if you may break of fragility.

"How is she?" He had whispered, the tube in his nose directing filtered air into his lungs, a massive smile now plastered across his face. You looked down to the small bump in your suit, peaking out in a reminder that you were his forever, and your family was about to start growing.

At this sentence you had awoken, your precious lover’s hands roaming around your arms and as you faced him now, you allowed yourself to smile, a wide preposterous smile.

"Why are you grinning?" He pondered, his hands rubbing along your back. "Was the dream that good, perhaps a premonition?"

A sudden urge ravaged through your body at the sight of him, the gentle sound of his voice. Perhaps the dream had made you hormonal, the thought of pregnancy clouding your judgement in a flash of beautiful white light. Your heart soured, the beating now frantic in your ears, tiredness dripping from your brain as it filtered its way out of your consciousness. For the first time in what felt like years, you were thinking clearly. The flash of the tomorrow, speeding through time at a pace unimaginable to those lacking your incredible power, the Bene Gesserit bloodline rushing through your veins, a path which you could have easily chosen, but instead preferred your heart. The adoration you harboured for this young man, his hair messy, was enough to make your sanity blank.

"I love you." The confession dripped from your lips, carrying the weight of an over decade-long friendship shattering with it. Most would ponder, question, how the friendship was not ruined when Paul first carried you to his room, your arms wrapped around his neck as you planted small drunk kisses against his sweaty skin. The breathless gasps and tender touches could not be shared between friends, mere friends did not know what it felt like to bed each other, bound eternally by an action you frantically clasped when you were mere late teenagers. How, when he came of age, you found yourself laying in these very sheets, starkly bare before his lean figure.

The words hung in the air the two of you shared, your heart beating tighter and quicker than it ever had before, thumping in the back of your mind as you impatiently awaited his reaction. Yet, Paul did not flinch, did not squirm when the three words left your breath in a tiny whisper, barely audible. His eyes maintained their movements between your two visions, still unable and frustrated that he could not drink your very body immediately, he believed it would be more deadly than the Water of Life, it would destroy his very being from the inside out with the amount of admiration he felt within his gut.

He brought his figure forward, interlocking his lips with yours, needy for your taste against his tongue. Your hands scratched down the side of his cheeks, trying your hardest to pull, engulf, him in your worship. You were suddenly reminded of your premonition, the blink into the future, his lips feeling the same as they would then. The thing that would return the man with you now to you at any moment, his love returned you to your shared youth, his palm against your hand as you read his future. But now you saw it, you saw it oh so clearly, and his mortal peril was your last concern when you had him so vulnerable, only yours until the stars exploded into supernova and the planet's moons crashed into the sands.

When he pulled away, his hands retracted from your back to cup your cheeks, running his thumb along the underside of your eye, removing a piece of sleep under his tender grasp. As your proximity caused your breaths to mingle, he answered your statement, the words dripping like saccharine from his tongue. Your sweet boy.

"I love you."

˚ · • . ° .

#emsvertigo fanfictions #paul atreides #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #dune #dune 2021 #dune 2024 #dune frank herbert #fanfiction #fanfic #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader

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ephemeral-among-the-stars · 2 months

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Hidden Vulnerability (ft. Aventurine)

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, relationship hcs

A/N: I just want to hold him tightly and never let go. Might be OOC since his banner isn't out by the moment I'm writing this

Oh, how confident he usually is.

Right?

No one can make Aventurine's signature smile disappear. Even if just a moment ago he's been showered in different insults.

Seemingly so carefree, he plays his role perfectly in public, making people believe that it is not just a façade, but his true personality.

When in reality Aventurine convinces himself that he really doesn't care every single day.

You know, «conceal, don't feel, don't let them know». This is perfectly describes him.

At least his act goes on and on until he's completely alone and no one could see how his perfectly build personality cracks.

No one should know.

Except for you, the only person he really trusts.

Aventurine in public and Aventurine alone with you – are like two different people.

His fake confident expression disappears as soon as he's in your comfortable and reassuring presence. Aventurine doesn't need to be someone else with you.

Deep inside, he's still a little boy who doesn't want to be vulnerable in the eyes of other people because it's scary. Because they might hurt him.

Because they will use his weaknesses against him.

Hold him, hug him tightly. Show him that he is not alone in this crazy world, that he can be himself.

You're the only person who won't hurt him, won't make him suffer, won't use him like some kind of toy.

At least Aventurine hopes so.

And you're the only person who can see his sad expression filled with so much pain. It's exhausting, agonizing even to put on a brave face every minute of his existence.

But when he smiles in your arms, oh, Aeons, his smile is so pure and sincere. The kind of smile other people won't ever see.

You are his safe haven, his angel, his life.

Just let your love and kindness shine down upon him, guide him through the darkness.

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr aventurine #aventurine

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lovelettersfromluna · 11 months

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☆.*･｡ The Perfect Girl ☆ﾟ.*･｡

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: The amount of tension between you and your guitarist is fucking ridiculous.

an: You read that right babe, I’m giving rockstar!Ellie this time. I literally cannot get over her in a fucking leather jacket just tearing it up on stage for her adoring fans. You know it’s not a fic of mine if there isn’t some mutual pining between you and our fave girl. I don’t wanna give too much away tho! I hope you enjoy angel 🖤.

Warnings: 18+!!, ANGST, eventual smut just not in this chapter, mentions of sex, mutual pining, Ellie is sort of a dick but she isn’t necessarily mean (don’t worry you’ll see), lead singer!reader, use of alcohol and marijuana, rock star life style so lots of partying, reader is a badass I’m sorry but I had to, let me know if I missed anything! (not proofread)

Part 2 can be read here!

You always thought the city looked the prettiest from rooftops.

Ever since you were little, your safe haven would be on the tops of houses or buildings, giving you time to gather yourself and your mind.

You couldn’t really remember the last time you were fully alone.

Being on tour with your band was…hard. You missed home, and your throat was sore from all the singing, and you hated the dingy little venues that your manager had gotten for you…

But this was your dream, and you remembered that regardless of all of the things you hated, it would never outweigh the joy you felt when you were on stage, and the people in the crowd were singing with you, singing your bands songs.

It made it all worth it somehow.

You brought your cigarette up to your lips, perched between your middle and pointer finger, and inhaled deeply. The contrast of the warmth you felt in your lungs from the smoke, and the cold air that blew onto your skin somehow took the edge off the chilly wind.

It was cold, and you had to downtown at the venue you were performing at within the next 20 minutes, but you felt like if you didn’t get 5 minutes alone, away from your band members, you’d lose your mind.

Only, that was half the truth. You weren’t entirely running from your band…not all of them at least.

You were running from Ellie.

After you and your best friend Dylan had started up your band, he was quick to bring Ellie in to audition for your lead guitarist. He told you that he’d known Ellie for almost forever, and that he was positive you two would get along.

And he was write, you did get along.

Once your band had been established with all positions filled, you and Ellie were always together. You’d write songs together, search for venues that would give a group of kids the time of day to perform a handful of their songs, sleep overs almost every night. If Ellie was there, so were you.

It started to change when your band released a demo, and your lives changed overnight.

The amount of attention that came with it was almost overwhelming, and before you knew it you had a manager and a tour was being organized. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have time to adjust to it all, to all of the attention that you were getting from people that you didn’t even know.

Ellie quickly became a fan favorite.

You first realized it during one of your first shows, and after your set was finished and you were all packing your equipment up into your tour bus, and Ellie wasn’t helping. She was leaned up the brick wall of the club you’d just performed at, surrounded but a handful of pretty girls.

And although you felt a twinge of jealousy set off like a small wildfire in the pit of your stomach, you carried on. Because it was never out of the ordinary for Ellie to flirt with a pretty girl. She’d always been pretty, and she always attracted the attention of those around her. It was just on a greater scale now.

One that would grow to be greater and greater the more popular you guys got.

So no, the groupies didn’t bother you, not entirely at least. Sure, you had to sleep with your headphones on whenever you’d hear Ellie fucking them after a show and your hotel room just had to be next to hers, and you’d make sure that you weren’t around every time Ellie was stood outside of a venue getting their numbers, but you didn’t let it affect your friendship with her, because Ellie was your friend, your good friend and she didn’t owe you anything.

What did bother you though, was what you caught her saying to Dylan one day after a show.

It was one of the rare occasions that Ellie actually spent time with you guys after a show, and not running off with a groupie. You were all sat around in Ellie’s hotel room, drunk and high out of your minds. Your head was resting against Ellie’s knee while you sat on the floor and her on the couch, her long fingers combing through your hair and massaging your scalp as you both lazily laughed at something your drummer said. It was moments like this that you felt at peace, and you realized that your job was to travel with your best friends, make music and just enjoy one another.

You hummed softly as you took a long drag of Ellie’s blunt before passing it back to her and standing up.

“Where you goin’ babe?” Ellie rasped out, her hand resting on your waist for a moment before she took the blunt from you. You smiled lazily, eyes hazy before you nodded your head towards the door. “M’cold…gonna get my sweater and my phone” you hummed. Ellie whined softly, letting her head fall back as she took a drag of her joint, her other hand reaching out for you.

“Just use one of mine…you’re warm” she mumbles out lazily, and you roll your eyes as you shoo her hand away, already walking over the various articles of clothing, music sheets and empty bottles that were on the floor, scrunching your nose at the mess as you focused on not falling over.

“Need my phone anyways Els…I’ll be right back” you called out before you opened the door to leave.

It was things like that. When she’d whine and moan for you for being too far or for leaving her when she was enjoying your warm embrace that made your heart tug. You’d always remind yourself that if she wanted to, she would. Ellie had been your friend for many years at this point, and the fact alone that she’d known you as long as she did and never tried to take things further was enough for you to push down any feelings that you had for her. You’d watch Ellie date girls that she’d only known for a few weeks, and you knew that being with her would never be written in the stars for you.

You left the hotel room door cracked open since you knew you didn’t have your room key, and you’d just be going to your room that was right next door.

Once you got your phone and a hoodie, you left your room and went back to Ellie’s. When you entered, it was easy for you to silently get in since you had left the door open for yourself when you got back. The only thing is, none of your band mates heard you come back to the room.

That was your first mistake.

The long hallway that lead to the room door kept you hidden, so they couldn’t hear you nor see you. But you were able to hear everything that they were saying.

“Come on Ellie, we know you’re into her…the way she’s always touching you? Why don’t you just ask her out?” You could distinguish the voice to be Charlie, your drummer. He chuckled softly as he tossed something at Ellie, and you heard her groan once it hit her.

“I am not into her, okay? Jesus never…I’d never go for her. She’s just…not really my type, you know? Plus…she’s kinda clingy” she chuckled softly, you could hear s small thump, followed by Ellie groaning in pain. Dylan probably hit her.

“Hey, don’t fuckin’ talk about her that way man. She’s our friend…even if you feel that way…no need to say it” he huffs out. Dylan had always had your back, acting as the big brother you had never had.

Ellie scoffs softly, and you swear you can almost fucking hear her roll her eyes. You hear the soft crackling of her blunt, and you know she’s taking another hit. “It’s the truth, okay? You see the way she looks like a kicked puppy every time I’m hooking up with a girl…it’s just sad..” she sighs out, and she sounds like she feels bad for you, like she’s been treating you this way the entire time because Ellie pities you.

And you suddenly can't breathe, because one of the people you trusted the most is saying such mean things about you, and you feel like you can't handle it. You don't even realize it, but there are fat tears rolling down your cheeks, pooling at your chin and dripping onto your shirt. You have to leave, because you know that if you see her face, you'll lose it.

You ended up crying in your hotel room on your bed until you passed out, waking up to your eyes being sore and swollen and your cheeks wet with the tears that you cried the night prior. You also wake up to a few messages and phone calls from Dylan, Charlie..

and Ellie.

Each of them asking you where you'd run off to, and if you would be coming back. It almost makes you laugh because Ellie is whining to you in your messages saying that she misses you and that you were having so much fun, saying that she hopes you didn't fall asleep because she'll just follow you into your room to sleep with you.

It's extremely fucking ironic that this is all coming from someone who called you clingy not even thirty minutes before texting you all of these messages.

And it's how you ended up here, on the rooftop of the hotel you were staying at, hiding from her.

The entire conversation that you had overheard had happened almost a week ago now, and you hadn't spoken a single word to Ellie.

None of it went without attempts from her end though.

She was constantly trying to talk to you, touch you, hold you, all of which been ignored by you. At first she assumed you were just going through a bad hangover from the night before, however it went on for days, and soon enough Ellie was finding it hard to remember when the last time it was that you had even looked at her.

Your brooding thoughts were interrupted by the door to the roof opening up, and the sound of heavy boots already told you who it was without having to look.

Dylan sighed softly as he stood behind you, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes burned holes into the back of your head.

"What the fuck is going on with you dude?" He sighed out. He had long since lost his patience with you, with your sulking, and the constant silent treatment you had been giving everyone, most specifically Ellie.

You sighed softly, taking another long drag of your cigarette before you stood up, flicking it onto the floor and using your boot to smoosh it into the ground. You gave a shrug, the zippers on your leather jacket jingling a bit.

"Nothin'....just been tired man...tour is kicking my ass" You sighed out, wishing internally that he would for once buy your bullshit excuse and not pry any further. Your feelings were pissing you off, and Ellie was pissing you off even more. You just...would rather not talk about it.

Dylan's eyebrows raised before he scoffed in disbelief. "And am I supposed to believe that? Do you think im fucking stupid?" He huffed out, and his own shoulders were crossing over his chest as he stared down at you much like a father staring down at their child.

"We aren't going anywhere until you tell me why the hell you've been pouting like a child. So, either you talk, or the show tonight isn't happening."

His threat made you frown, because as much as tour was exhausting, it was what you loved the most. Even the thought of letting down anyone who was getting ready in that very moment to come out and see you and your band, the excitement they felt whenever they waited for you guys to walk out on stage, made you sick to your stomach.

You sighed, staring down at your black boots, unable to even look the man in the eyes before you inhaled deeply.

"I heard what Ellie said about me.." You mumbled out, so softly the wind was almost loud enough to muffle what you had said, your confession getting lost in the air, never to be heard again.

The second you said it, Dylan's features softened. In that moment, he had realized just how young you were...You were barely an adult, still in your 20s, and this entire life had swept you up and taken you away in the blink of an eye, and never once had you complained about it. He realized, that he still had to protect you.

He sighed, his arms dropping down to his side. He suddenly felt guilty, like he hadn't done enough to defend you, because he was sure that if you had heard what Ellie said, you heard what he had said.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you into his own, wrapping you up in a big bear hug like all big brothers did. You let out a sigh of relief the second your face pressed against his chest, realizing that, that was the first time you were hugging someone in a week.

"Im sorry kid...I....I dunno why Ellie says the things that she says..." He sighed out. Dylan saw the way you looked at Ellie, the way your face dropped the second she was running off with another girl.

Dylan could see the way you felt about Ellie long before you could.

You shrugged as you let out a shaky breath, staying in his embrace for a moment longer before you pulled away. "Its whatever man...I just...I don't really wanna talk to her anymore.." You sighed out, and Dylan was nodding in agreement. "I understand...just...this will all pass, im sure" He mumbled.

He hoped it would pass.

You sighed before you looked up at him for the first time since he came outside to get you. Your eyes were pleading, like you were begging for something without even saying anything.

"Promise you won't say anything..I can't...I don't want to deal with this shit right now" You mumbled, and Dylan nodded. His arm went to sling around your shoulder, pulling you into the side of his body as he began walking you back to the door that lead into the building.

"Its safe with me kid...now come on...we've got fans to perform for" He hummed.

The thought of seeing them alone was enough to make you crack a smile.

☆ﾟ.*･｡

Ellie on the other hand, was losing her fucking mind.

She was wracking her brain to try and figure out what the hell she had done this time to receive the silent treatment from you. She had tried everything to remember, she retraced all of her steps within the last two weeks, read through your messages with her to see if she had made fun of something you liked, she even went as far as to listen back to a few of your tracks to see if she had messed up or something.

But each thing she tried, always came up with nothing.

You were ignoring her and it was pissing her the fuck off.

She missed talking to you, and falling asleep in your hotel room when she couldn't sleep, and she missed when she would sit between your legs on the floor and you would play with her hair before a show.

Ellie missed you, and she didn't know what the hell got here in this position to begin with.

It was frustrating her so much, that she had been fucking up at your last few shows. Her fingers would slip when she was playing because she was too focused on looking at you, praying that you would turn your head and smile at her while you sang, like you always did. Or she would almost trip over the wires that came out of her electric guitar, ruining the entire set.

Ellie had known you a long fucking time, and never once had you ignored her for this long.

She sighed softly as she tuned up her guitar, furrowing her eyebrows every time a particularly sharp note would come out when she tried strumming. She had drove down to the venue with Charlie, leaving Dylan to find you and come down after.

She was determined to finally get answers tonight.

Ellie was far too deep in thought to realize that you had finally walked in with Dylan. The second she heard your voice talking to your manager, her head shot up in your direction, and her eyes were nearly bulging out of her head.

You always looked hot when you performed, and Ellie always stared when you weren't looking. However, the clothes you had on tonight made the silent treatment that you had been giving Ellie all the more worse.

The black top you have on has the prettiest thin straps that are tied into bows at the top of your shoulders, your tits pushed up perfectly, the black mini skirt you wore leaving so much of your pretty plus thighs exposed, and your favorite leather jacket and black boots.

And Ellie can't even walk up to you to tell you how gorgeous you look.

☆ﾟ.*･｡

The show went down as one of your favorites.

You felt so confident, so loud, so pretty. It was rare that you put a ton of effort into your performance these days, especially with how upset the entire Ellie situation had you. But this show changed your mind about all of that.

The energy that the crowd gave was so intense, so vibrant, so colorful, and you felt so in tune with your bandmates.

Even Ellie

It felt like she was trying her hardest to stay with you, to stay in the same lane as you as you gave your performance your all. There were moments where the noises that came out of you were unbelievable to you, let alone everyone else.

After the show, you and the others decided to keep the party going at a nearby club. You usually opted to going back to the hotel and hanging out in a more intimate setting, always wanting to be closer with your friends..with Ellie.

But the energy that you had was too high to push down, and you weren't going to let it go to waste.

You giggled softly at something Charlie said, nodding as you took another sip of your drink. You groaned softly once you saw yet another round of shots coming towards your private table that your manager had gotten you before you arrived. You took one off the tray, throwing it back with a wince.

When you put it down, you forgot for a moment who it was that was sitting across from you, and you locked eyes with piercing green ones that had been staring longingly into yours the entire night.

Her stare made your stomach do flips, and it was almost as if she had you under a spell for a moment because it was hard to look away.

You cleared your throat, blinking your eyes for a moment as you looked away from her.

And it was as if an angel came to your rescue, because when you looked away you caught eye of a different pair of eyes staring at you from across the club. The flashing lights made it hard to see, however it was no secret that the girl that was staring at you wanted you.

Suddenly, you were doing something you rarely did.

You got up from the table, quickly mumbling an excuse of needing to go to the bar, and you left, your eyes never leaving the girls.

She caught on quickly, because as soon as you were pressed up against the bar, she was scooting in next to you, her hip bumping gently against yours as she smirked down at you.

She tells you her name is Ash, and when she's whispering in your ear about how pretty you are, her voice dripping with lust, you realize that you think Ash is pretty too.

It doesn't take long for her to have her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to her body. You giggle softly as she pulls you in, because she's warm and inviting and..

she reminds you of Ellie.

Who is of course, staring at you from across the club.

Ellie has always noticed the attention you got, and she's always thanked her lucky stars that you always shot down any advances that were made your way whenever you guys were all out.

But right now you weren't. You were pressed up against another girl, her lips dangerously close to your neck as she whispers in your ear, her hands toying with the bottom of your skirt..

And it made Ellie fucking seethe with anger.

She's praying that you'll come to your senses and leave that idiot that has you pressed into her chest, but you don't. You're giggling and batting your eyelashes and you're acting like a stupid fucking groupie.

Just like the ones she fucks almost every night.

All of a sudden, your hand is interlocked with the girls and she's pulling you out of the club, and Ellie doesn't think she's ever gotten through a crowd of people faster in her entire fucking life. Because in seconds, she's caught up with you and the girl, and she's standing in front of you so that you both can't pass.

You don't even realize it at first, you think you might have gone the wrong way and hit a wall or something.

But once your eyes trail up the tall frame that is standing in front of you, and you're locking eyes with Ellie, you feel like you're dreaming.

"Ellie? What...what are you doing? Come on, get out of the way" You huff softly, far too annoyed to keep up with the silent treatment that you had for her. You press your hand to her side so you can push her out the way, but she doesn't budge.

She's staring at the girl that was taking you out of the club, and you're sure that if looks could kill, Ash would be on the floor dead right now.

"She's drunk, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ellie barks out, her voice is stern and protective and she has her strong arms crossed over her chest.

Ash chuckles softly as she raises her eyebrows in disbelief, looking at Ellie before looking down at you. "This your fuckin girl or something?" She says to you, and you're quickly shaking your head, denying her question.

"No! No she's...we're in a band-" You try to explain, but Ellie is cutting you off.

"Doesn't fuckin matter, man. I said she's drunk, so you need to leave her alone" She yells over the music, and Ash looks down at you in disbelief before she stares at Ellie once again, taking your hand and pulling you closer to Ellie before letting you go.

"Whatever, last time I pick up some chick at the club" She chuckles softly.

You feel like a fucking joke.

Because for the first time, you're being spontaneous and doing things that normal girls your age do, and you finally feel fucking normal..

And Ellie has to come in and ruin it.

You stare up at her in disbelief, because she has a stupid look of triumph written all over her face, and she's smirking like she's fucking won something, and all you want to do is scream at her.

So you do.

You push her chest back forcefully, and it's her turn to stare at you like you're crazy. "Are you fucking serious?? Im barely fucking drunk!! What makes you think you can...can reprimand me like that?" You scream at her, and Ellie isn't sure she's happy you're finally speaking to her, or if this was all a mistake to begin with.

Ellie frowns as she grabs your wrists, trying to stop you from pushing her back any further. But she doesn't, and before she knows it, you're both outside of the club, the cold air hitting her face.

"She was..she was trying to take advantage of you! Can't you see that?" She pleads. You roll your eyes, giving her a scoff.

"Funny that your moral high ground has suddenly kicked in, because I have seen you stumble into practice countless times drunk off your ass with a girl just as drunk as you are! What makes you fucking think that you have any say in what I do? If I want to hookup with someone at a bar, I can do that! Im a fucking grown up Ellie" You're screaming at her, and she winces at your words because the mere thought of you doing it, hurts her.

But you aren't done.

"Do you know how hard it is for me Ellie? How hard it is for me to...to feel like im doing this shit right? To feel fucking wanted by someone? Especially when my bandmates talk about how undesirable I am? How fucking clingy I am?" You sob, because at this point all of your feelings are bubbling to the surface, and you can't hold it in anymore. Months of feeling like something was wrong with you, followed by an entire week of feeling like you're the most unwanted person by the words of your bandmate finally weigh in on you.

And for once, you don't stop it.

Ellie's eyes are wide, because she finally realizes what she's done to deserve everything you've given her..or a lack thereof.

She opens her mouth to speak, to tell you that none of that is true, that you are the most desired person on the entire fucking planet, that she's wanted you from the moment she set eyes on you.

But nothing comes out.

You scoff, roughly wiping the tears from your cheeks as you shake your head. "Typical...you know what? Fuck you Ellie..." You mumble out, turning around and walking back to your hotel room.

And all Ellie can do is watch, because her years of being a coward have finally caught up to her. And because of it..

She's lost you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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shukei-jiwa · 17 days

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Build Your Writing Haven

1. My ideal place to write will be my cozy bedroom filled with sunshine rays coming from the beautiful antique-like windows and some woody vibe around. The living room also my ideal place, but ONLY when it's empty. Don't forget the windy, free wi-fi, free entry library in town!

2. In my writings haven, i want it to have a tasty scent from a fresh baked bread and a quiet environment.

3. Key objects in my writing haven are my white earphones, pink round pillow, and a warm blanket. Just in case i'm cold.

4. Every time i write, i'll always use my earphones then listening to Yorushika, Taylor Swift, Fujii Kaze and more! Sometimes i also like to be accompany by Legend Of Zelda Orchestras

5. I'm going to tag @leahnardo-da-veggie and @shockingly-green-chicken , did i do the tag game right? Man. I'm so new at this.

6. And lastly some tag below!

#tag game #writers on tumblr #open to everyone #Build your writing haven

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shepherds-of-haven · 1 year

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#sorry to the Prihine/Croelle fans #they're not villains but some people still dislike them so I had to include them for an unbiased survey 😔#trying to see who the most unpopular 'antagonist' is #leave a write-in comment if your option didn't make it 👀#the faceless lords don't count!!#and i left [chapter 7 villain] out due to spoilers #i admit this one's primarily for the alpha build players lol #the editor's random but she's mean and regularly shits on the Shepherds so I don't like her lmao she's truly a background villain #you can actually meet her in person in a later planned route if you're commander-legate!#Shepherds of Haven #poll #spoilers #mild #silly

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

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Let Me Love You | 1 - B. Barnes

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Fast-food restaurants are always the quick choice for exhausted students after learning a lesson.

Today, WHAM Burger near St. Louis University is bustling with customers, mostly college students from the university. The aroma of sizzling burgers and the familiar hum of conversations fill the air.

Inside the restaurant, everyone stands in line at the cashier or fiddles with the self-order machine. Even the drive-thru is buzzing with activity. Most cars have to wait, but for Bucky, who is behind the wheel, the wait is inconsequential. However, his friends, Steve and Sam, seem less patient.

“Their double cheeseburgers are delicious. But eating them three times a week? I'm going to hate my favorite food, Bucky,” Steve remarks from the back seat.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “There are other choices, like salads.”

Sam laughs, fingers dancing on his phone screen. “You'd have to put a gun to Steve's head if you want him to eat a salad.”

Bucky chuckles, his eyes focused on the road. Sam and Steve sigh, observing their friend who has become a love fool. Almost every week, they find themselves at this fast-food haven. There's a particular reason Bucky insists on coming here.

Finally, their car inches forward to the cashier's window. Bucky rolls down the window and is greeted by a familiar face.

“Welcome to WHAM Burger. Oh, hi, guys!” Your bright voice cuts through the air, and the trio of friends can't help but smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” Sam and Steve chime in, well aware that Bucky becomes speechless when he sees you.

You flash them a genuine smile, recognizing the familiar faces. Your fingers swiftly input their usual order. “You guys just got back from the chess club?”

Bucky nods, attempting to say more but finding his words stuck. He never anticipated becoming a lovefool, but he fell for you the first time he laid eyes on you.

It was on a snowy day when Bucky first saw you. A girl, squatting down to rescue a stray cat. That quiet moment led to him forgetting his chess tournament appointment, instead accompanying you to the nearby shelter.

You, a stranger in the area, had just landed a part-time job at the fast-food joint. Bucky admired your selflessness and love for animals. Even though you couldn't adopt the cat, he assured you someone would. In gratitude, you treated him to hot chocolate, and in that instant, Bucky fell in love.

However, his friends later shattered his newfound joy, revealing that you had a boyfriend, the quarterback, Lloyd Hansen, and that you were childhood sweethearts.

Back in the present, your cheerful voice snaps Bucky out of his reminiscence. “Thank you so much. Please come again.”

“Yes, yes, I will,” Bucky mumbles, grabbing the card from your hand. The slight touch sends a jolt through him, and he can't help feeling like a creep.

As Bucky drives away from the drive-thru, Sam and Steve enjoy their fries, teasing Bucky about moving on.

“Dude, you need to move on. If not, both of us are going to gain weight,” Steve says, munching on his cheeseburger.

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I didn't invite you." Despite not being explicitly invited, the three always go home together since they live in the same apartment building, and WHAM Burger is conveniently on the way.

Bucky huffs, but he can't stay mad at them. After all, they've been his closest friends since high school. Despite their advice, he can't fathom why his feelings for you continue to grow. If there's a love cupid, Bucky can't help but blame it, as the cupid seems to have misfired its arrow onto the wrong target.

In the rearview mirror, Sam and Steve exchange knowing glances, silently hoping their friend will soon find a way to move on from his unrequited love.

Reader P.O.V

“Shit… shit.” You blame yourself for not bringing an umbrella with you, even though since the morning, you noticed the clouds had a dark color.

You protect the food bag to make sure it doesn't get wet. You had just finished your shift when your boyfriend, Lloyd, texted you to bring food to his practice.

Lloyd and you have been together since childhood, crowned as king and queen at prom night. Everyone says that both of you are a sweet couple.

Lloyd got a full scholarship for his athletics and is studying law. Meanwhile, you received half a scholarship. St. Louis is a prestigious university with famous alumni.

It has been your dream to study here, and you also want to stay with Lloyd. However, growing up, you learned to be responsible on your own, managing your own money and working.

Between studies, clubs, and part-time jobs, you and Lloyd used to be close, but now, it's getting difficult to meet. Lloyd has become busy with practices and interviews since he brought a championship to the university.

But you want to make this relationship work.

When the bus stops in front of the university, you have to run to the university gym.

You sprint as fast as you can despite the heavy rain.

Lloyd is lifting weights when he sees you soaking wet. He grabs a towel and dries your hair. “Thanks, babe. You came all the way here.”

You reply, “It's alright.”

“Has the food arrived?” A female voice is heard from behind you.

You turn around and see a girl with perfect hair, wearing a training outfit that accentuates her body curves.

You glance down at yourself still wearing your work uniform and a jacket.

Lloyd says, “Yup. Here you go,” as he hands the food bag to Nicky. She's the daughter of the university football sponsor. Lloyd have mentioned her name a few times. But everytime you hear her name, you don't feel secure.

You clench your fist, watching their interaction. Lloyd gives Nicky the food you brought with effort through this heavy rain, and Nicky shows a shy smile towards him.

Your heart sinks as you catch the subtle exchange of glances between them. The smile that Lloyd reserves for you is now being shared with someone else. It feels like a stab in the chest, a betrayal you didn't see coming.

Lloyd looks at you. “Could you wait for a while? We will go back together.”

You put on a fake smile that you've mastered at work. “No, it's alright. I came here with an Uber car. The driver is waiting for me.” You lied; your phone battery had already died.

Lloyd nods. “Alright, text me when you've arrived.”

“Okay.”

You turn and walk faster to avoid the eyes of the bystanders. You don’t want your effort to be judged.

When you get out from the building, the rain is still pouring heavily. You grit your teeth. Is this your unluckiest day?

You run faster to the bus stop while crying.

“Y/N.”

You think your ears have mistaken you. With this heavy rain, you hear someone call your name.

It's impossible.

“Y/N!”

The voice becomes clearer. You turn around and see the silhouette getting closer. He comes running while holding an umbrella.

“Bucky?”

Bucky was just walking out from the library. He was in the chess club when he saw you running from the university gym. He wonders what the heck you are doing alone in this heavy rain.

When he sees your eyes red and your nose, it seems like you've just cried. The same happened when he found out you had a boyfriend; his eyes and nose were red too.

And he sees you coming out of the gym; that means the cause is related to Lloyd.

But now he can't let you be like this. He gives you his umbrella and runs back to the library.

You are stunned while holding the umbrella. Bucky suddenly appears, giving you the umbrella, and runs away.

You try to catch up with him, but he runs too fast. You can only shout, “Bucky, thank you!”

Tomorrow, you have to say thank you to Bucky. At least today, someone cared for you. You feel gratitude and confusion at the rain-soaked bus stop. Bucky's unexpected act of kindness adds another layer to your swirling emotions.

The next day, when you went to find Bucky, he wasn't in class. Both of you studied business.

Steve told you, "Bucky got a fever, so he stayed at home." You felt guilty when you heard that because the reason why he got sick is because of last night; he gave you his umbrella.

You asked Steve, "Can I visit him?" Steve couldn't believe what he just heard, but if you came to visit Bucky, perhaps his fever would be gone in a second. "Sure, I'll give you the address," he said, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

You nodded appreciatively, saying, "Thank you," with a sincere smile.

‘Cough, cough.’

Bucky poured water into a glass. He had a fever and a sore throat because of the rain last night. The relentless downpour seemed to echo the storm within him, a storm fueled by the regret of not bringing you home with his car. He couldn't shake the thought that if he had, perhaps he wouldn't be in this sickly state.

‘Knock. Knock.’

He opened the door, never expecting to find you standing there. You held a steaming bowl of hot soup in your hands. “Bucky, I’m sorry. Because of me, you got sick.”

Bucky shyly answered, the lines of worry etched on his face. It wouldn't matter if he had to cross a sea of fire; he would do it for you. “No, it’s not because of you.” He grabbed the food you brought, appreciating the warmth it brought, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

You shook your head, a genuine smile gracing your face. “You really helped me last night. Thank you.”

Feeling restless and vulnerable in his weakened state, Bucky looked at you nervously and said, “I have something to tell you.”

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

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Could I request Liu Kang and others if you want receiving and hug/kiss from reader after dealing with titan shang tsung

Here ya go! Bi-Han might be a bit ooc but then again I never claimed to write characters perfectly…so there’s that.

Liu Kang was exhausted, with Shang Tsung dealt with and peace was seemingly restored, he knew better then anyone that there was much work to be done to undo the damage caused.

So much that upon feeling your arms encase his muscular build, coddling him against you as your warmth brought him comfort and security. He didn’t feel as though he was Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire in that moment but instead he was just Liu Kang; your Liu Kang. As ironic as it may sound coming from a man as powerful as him but with you, Liu Kang felt safe, he felt protected but most importantly he felt like all his hard efforts had been paid off in the form of you holding him.

A weight had been lifted from his chest, and as the fatigue he had pushed aside slowly start to take hold over him and all he wanted was to stay like this forever, to get the chance to stay with you in his arms for the rest of time, should fate ever allow such a small request to be made; Liu Kang wanted the opportunity to fall asleep and wake up to you like he should’ve been from the very beginning but couldn’t.

Now however he hopes that he could use this as a way to make up for lost time.

Raiden didn’t think his smile could possibly get any wider than it did now as you peppered his face in abundance of soft, loving kisses that left a tingly feeling in his skin after pulling away to kiss another aspect of his face, causing him to chuckle at the almost magical sensation.

His eyes would then close in utter and pure bliss as he leant into the hands that held his face as though it were a priceless antiquity. Raiden felt your thumbs brush over his cheekbones either care, leaving an invisible trail for your lips to follow along.

You were Raiden’s safe haven and he’d always find himself coming back to you no matter what his condition was, for you were always with him even if you physically weren’t because Raiden always kept you close in the depths his heart; sighting you as his inspiration and his guiding force through rough situations, hopeful that one day he’d get to return to your arms and immerse himself in your warmth whilst sharing his own in equal exchange.

You stayed within your own paradise for a long while before going back to it within the realm of dreams, huddled together like two otters, unwilling to let the other drift away.

Kuai Liang reciprocates your hug with his one of his own as an excuse to feel your warmth against him, even though the fact still stood that he ran incredibly warm for the both of you, but he disliked having to leave your side for prolonged periods of time. Something that has only gotten worse with Bi-Han’s betrayal and his promise of bringing you into their quarrel, despite the prior warnings that were given to the cryomancer.

He needed this more then you could ever know with the way he was quick to bury his head into shoulder, his hands holding onto you so tightly, you feared that your clothes would bear scorched imprints of his hands afterwards. You couldn’t blame him however and allowed Kuai Liang to cling onto you in an almost desperate plea to prevent you from fading out of his life forever.

You both held onto one another like you each other’s lifeline, like you couldn’t live without one another as you tried to move in closer to Kuai Liang in hopes of moulding yourself into his very being. You both found comfort in knowing that the other was okay, that they were safe because god forbid if anything were to happen to either you or Kuai Liang.

You were practically soulmates in the literal sense.

Bi-Han, whilst in the privacy of your shared room, would just allow you to hold onto him tightly while made no attempts as to voice his general opinion on this sort of thing.

He was ice cold in more then just powers alone.

his voice was cold.

his gaze that peered at you with judgment was cold.

His unfeeling heart might as well be a block of unbreakable ice.

His entire body was cold and that the longer you held onto him, some parts of your body -primarily in your fingertips and hands- were already starting to feel the numbing effects of embracing someone who was the literal embodiment of a wall of ice. Had you done this in public, in front of people that Bi-Han couldn’t stand, he would have no issue in ripping your arms away from his sides, leaving you to stand in your own embarrassment as he walked away.

However behind closed doors Bi-Han was more lenient towards you showing him affection. No one was nearby to witness this moment between supposed lovers, no one was here to see the one person Bi-Han admitted to calling his Achilles heel, holding onto him with such determination. So for once in his life, Bi-Han allowed those walls he built to come down as he slowly place his hands against your back, tucking you against him even further, closing his tired eyes and resting his weary head into your neck where he let out a sigh before letting himself to collapse into your embrace completely.

Bi-Han was a man devoid of such simple acts throughout his life that once it’s given to him, he has to remind himself that he was under no threat, other then being under the threat of breaking apart in your arms after endearing hardships for so long. So long in fact that a measly small act was enough to have this man crumble internally before crumbling physically afterwards.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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The Lost 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

This one's a bit longer than the intro.

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.

Your first shift at the store goes well enough. Aziz, the manager, shows you where everything is and goes over the policies. The till is behind a window, a slot just big enough to get products and money through. It’s close to your apartment so not the best part of town. The next day, you’ll be alone.

You head home with a dented can of ginger ale in your bag. Aziz said you could have it for free since half the paint was scraped off during shipping. You don’t drink much soda but it would be a nice treat.

You find yourself dragging your feet as you come onto your street. You’re still getting your bearings but you recognize the boarded up white brick building across from the converted two-storey house. You stare at the faded brown facade of your abode, fumbling with your keys nervously. You still feel so out of place.

You cross the road and climb the steep iron staircase that leads up the side of the house to the second floor. The heavy metal grate that shields the thick wooden door rattles as you open it and clanks behind you loudly despite your efforts to keep quiet. The place feels desolate as you enter. Aside from last night, you haven’t encountered anyone else.

You creep into the kitchen and go to the fridge. On it, there’s a yellow paper with blue ink on it; numbered bullets that you read slowly. ‘House Rules’, the jagged capitals spell out the title above at least a dozen lines. ‘Clean up after yourself; mark your food; no stealing.’ That paper feels very apathetic, suggesting that no one really talks to each other here. Maybe it’s better that way.

You open the fridge and search your bag for your can of ginger ale. You hesitate to put it inside. You have no way of marking it. You consider the remnants of the logo on the side. You could just have it warm.

“There’s a sharpie in the top drawer,” a voice breaks the rigid silence like cracking ice.

You glance over at the man standing in the doorway, the same that leads to your bedroom. You quickly peel away your eyes and nod. You can’t manage a thank you as your surprise has your adrenaline pulsing.

You close the fridge and put the can on the counter. You open a drawer, not much inside besides electric tape and the promised sharpie. You write your initials on the top of the can as the man enters and stops a few feet from you, popping open a cupboard with a harsh click.

You think it must be the same man as the night before. He’s about the same size as the ominous shadow, at least from your periphery glance. You sidle over and pull the fridge open once more, setting your can in the door before you close it gently.

Tension roils around you as the man takes out a large container. It’s unmarked except for the sharpie emblazoned on the white plastic; ‘S’. Just a single letter.

You back away and fix your bag on your shoulder, shuffling around him in the small kitchen. He doesn’t say anything but you can hear his long exhale. It sticks with you how easily he’s snuck up on you twice. You shrug it off as paranoia from the shelter.

You’ll be okay. You have a lock on the door here. You have your own space. A tiny haven in an immense world.

🚪

Your first shift alone isn’t as intimidating as you thought. Most people come in and grab what they need then go. You ring them through with as much friendliness as you can muster. Most don’t respond, some chatter a bit, rambling about a thousand different things, and others even glare at you as they point to the small earbud in their ears. The flow of customers is ebbs and flows, busier around lunchtime and dull after two.

You’re almost done with your hours there. You take the time to bring out the bag of chips Aziz marked for stocking. You sit on the step stool as you set to find the palace for each brand. You put the Cheetos on the shelf as the door chimes and signals the entry of a customer.

You stand and peek over the shelf. You see only a man’s shoulders and the back of his head as he turns his back to you, perusing the wall of magazines. His hair pokes out in shaggy shanks from a ball cap. You grab the folding foot stool and the box and quickly scurry back behind the counter.

You put them down clumsily, a loud clap as the stool falls against the back of the counter. You pull shut the divider behind you and go to the till. You brace the counter as you peer over at the man again but try not to stalk him.

He strides slowly through the store, just along the back wall as he peruses the bottles and cans of cold drinks. He opens a door and takes something out. You look down and review the checklist for your shift. The last thing you need to do is balance the till before the evening shift gets here.

You listen to the man’s steps, flicking your eyes up now and again to keep track of him. You can also see him on the security screen through the black and white lens. You don’t even get a good look at him then as he keeps his chin straight, the beak of his cap effectively hiding his features.

He approaches the counter and you pop your head up. You’re stunned to recognise him. The same man from your flat. Your neighbour. Nameless and mysterious.

“Hey,” he says as he puts his fare on the other side of the plastic barrier.

“Hello,” you eke out. You’re getting used to your own voice again. In this job, you don’t have a choice. “This everything?”

“Mhmm,” the hum is rocky in his throat.

You grab the two bottles, part of a two for three deal, and scan the premade protein milkshakes one at a time, then the magazine, Time, and a bag of pretzels. Nothing too unusual. His fingertips scratch the coarse hair along his jaw as he clears his throat.

You read out his total and he reaches into his jacket. He pulls out several bills and counts them out before handing them over. You take them and tally his change from the drawer.

“Shouldn’t be working alone,” he comments as he holds his hand out for the change.

You drop the coins into his cupped palm and recoil at his remark.

“Not to scare you,” he tucks the change away.

You shake your head. No, you thought it before but a job’s a job. You scrunch your lips and look around evasively.

“Do you want a bag?” You offer, not knowing how else to respond.

“Please,” he accepts, “and thank you.”

You nod and pull out a bag. You take his items and shove them inside as he watches quietly. You push them through the slot and he takes the handles, pausing as you feel him looking at you.

“When you walk home, avoid Mason Street. Go one up to Doxtator. Safer,” he advises.

You dip your chin, embarrassed. You know you don’t look like much but you can take care of yourself. You have so far.

He leans back on his heel before twisting on his soles. It squeaks with his slow hesitation and he marches to the door. You look up as the chime goes off and he disappears into the street. Only forty minutes to go.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the lost #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #nomad!steve

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