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#but I thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown me and I always read the rb tags!!!
noughticalcrossings · 12 days
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The Terror
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obikinetic · 2 months
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Missing your obikin art hours pls come back to us 💓💓
Anon you are so sweet and I made this just for you 🥺💖
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euthymiya · 24 days
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“i wanna ruin our friendship!” ft. wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, and kamisato ayato
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in which genshin men decide being friends is not enough. why be friends when you could clearly be so much better as lovers? part two of “we’re just friends, but…” (<- read part one for better understanding of each)
contains: female reader (use of miss, milady/my lady, lovely lady, and madame) ; fluff (slight hints of angst but all happy endings) ; confessions, friends to lovers, wriothesley: implied harassment of reader by an inmate, reader is a doctor at the fortress, angry and possessive wriothesley, jealousy ; neuvillette: reader works at the palais, melusine features, neuvillette is implied to be emotional and make it rain ; alhaitham: mentions of drinking alcohol (alhaitham), vulnerable alhaitham, reader can cook ; ayato: slightly insecure reader, mentions of reader being in a lower class than ayato
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WRIOTHESLEY
wriothesley is not a possessive man, despite his feelings for you.
he’s long accepted that somewhere between frequent visits to you in the infirmary and occasional lunches together as fellow colleagues at the fortress, he’s fallen hopelessly hard for you. how could he not, when you’re so gentle-natured, smart, and unfairly pretty?
but still, wriothesley is not a possessive man. when men praise you to the archons and admire your unearthly beautiful smile, he is not possessive. when he grumpily watches your fingers brush against bare chests of the wounded after pankration matches, he is not possessive. when you shyly thank an inmate who rushes to hold a door open for you, he is not possessive.
but even wriothesley has his limits. and they happen to snap over the edge today—because now, as a man corners you against the wall, pestering you until distress is clear on your face, wriothesley feels possessive.
it’s a shameful feeling, but it’s one he can’t help. he’s tolerated many things, enough of them that make him wash down the bitter taste of jealousy with the most soothing tea he can find in his collection. but this? this is beyond the patience of even a kind warden such as himself.
you, whether you or anyone else in this fortress knows it, are his to protect.
so he walks up, fisting the inmate’s shirt and lifting him up to drag away from you, jaw tight and locked as he asks lowly, “is there a problem? if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were giving this lovely lady here some trouble.”
“y-your grace,” the man, to his credit, has a good mind to look remorseful, eyeing you nervously for a moment before rapidly shaking his head. “n-no, i was just…i was just askin’ her if she’d like some help findin’ her way is all. you know the fortress can be confusin’ ’n such.”
the inmate trails off, nervously chuckling as he quivers in the warden’s unforgiving hold.
wriothesley glances at you, raising an unconvinced eyebrow as he asks, “and do you need any help finding your way, miss?”
“no,” you shake your head, voice a bare whisper.
his jaw tightens further, glancing back at the man before he snarls lowly, “then you leave her alone. don’t let me catch you bothering her again, understood?”
“y-yes, your grace!”
wriothesley releases the man’s shirt, crumpled from his iron grip as he stares, eyes narrowed—threatening, even, as he waits for the brave soul (for anyone who bothers you where he’s in charge is the bravest of all souls) to leave. not one moment is wasted before you watch the inmate scramble away, leaving you alone with a tense, disgruntled duke in your hands.
“thank you,” you whisper, “i’m not sure how much longer he’d have bothered me if you hadn’t shown up.”
“anyone else ever try that before?” he seethes. you’ve never seen him so angry before—something about it feels almost personal.
you shake your head, stepping away from the wall as you walk over to him. “no, wriothesley,” you murmur, “no one gives me a hard time. this was a first.”
“let me know if anyone bothers you,” he grunts, fist still clenched even with no shirt to hold like earlier. “i’ll take care of it.”
you eye the way it’s tightly curled, knuckles almost ghostly white from the pressure before you gently grab his hand, working his fingers loose from his tight grip and rubbing a soothing thumb over the crescent mark from his nails along his palm.
“of course,” you smile softly, “though, i’m sure word will spread quickly that the warden doesn’t appreciate his doctor being bothered by persistent men. i don’t think there will be any repeats of this incident.”
he should feel ashamed.
you think so highly of him—defaulting to believing he’d saved you because he was only worried for your wellbeing, and not because it burned him alive to see a man so close to you, a man who desired you just as much as he did and had stooped to such unchivalrous methods to have you.
faintly, he’s aware that your hand is still grasping his, still rubbing a thumb over the angry, red marks along his palm as you study him carefully. he’s sure there’s not much he hides in his expression—you must be reading him like an open book. he can’t bring himself to care, however, not when the sight of someone else pinning you to a wall and towering over you is still so fresh in his head.
“something on your mind, your grace?” you ask, leaning closer.
perhaps, if he was a stronger man, one with more firm principles, he’d know to pull away and give you your space. but you lean closer, and he’s weak to his own desires, so he takes it as an invitation to lean closer himself.
“yes,” he admits, “i…i’m afraid i had less than honorable intentions when stepping in.”
“oh?” you raise a brow, looking at him in fond amusement. maybe you already know, he thinks, if your lack of surprise tells him anything. “enlighten me, then. what were your intentions?”
“to make sure no man comes close to you,” he mumbles, leaning closer while you do the same, your noses just barely brushing as your breath all but mingles.
“why?” you ask. it almost sounds like a plead—like you’re waiting to hear something desperately.
“because it’s unbearable to see you with other men,” he says hoarsely. if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it. but he has reason to believe you’re quite the opposite, in fact, when your eyes seem to brighten.
“and if i were to say i appreciate your intentions?” you ask softly.
finally, his jaw loosens—instead, he replaces the clench with a loose, easy grin, one that allows him to chuckle lowly as he stares at you with a playful disbelief.
“that so?” he hums, “perhaps then you’d care to join me for dinner today, milady—i’ll have the finest meal the cafeteria has to offer waiting for you.”
“on a date?” you ask hopefully.
“on a date,” he confirms with a slight nod.
you kiss his cheek, making his breath catch in his throat as you step away and smile gleefully. “i’ll see you at dinner then, your grace.”
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NEUVILLETTE
the first day you skip your newfound routine of tea and desserts with neuvillette and the many, many melusines that join, it rains. harshly so, in fact.
you walk up to the palais, soaked from the unexpected weather as you grin sheepishly at a concerned sedene.
“madame!” she gasps, “oh, you’ve been caught in the weather!”
“it’s alright, sedene,” you chuckle, “it’s nothing new in fontaine to have unexpected rain. i suppose i should’ve planned accordingly. is monsieur neuvillette in his office? i have papers for him,” you hold up a file.
sedene fidgets for a moment, hesitant as she says, “yes…he’s in his office but…well, i should warn you that he’s not in the best of moods.”
“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, “how unfortunate. i’ll make it quick. they’re quite urgent papers.”
she nods at your promise—and just before you can turn to leave, she stops you, seemingly debating before making a final comment.
“you didn’t join us today, madame,” she starts, “for tea today during the monsieur’s break.”
“oh,” you tilt your head in surprise for a moment, “you’re right, i didn’t. i apologize if you were waiting on me. i was caught up with much paperwork to finish before i came in.”
“i see. perhaps monsieur neuvillette will appreciate knowing that, then,” she smiles.
before you can ask, she skips away, finding a group of melusines in the corner. you watch as they whisper away behind their paws, blinking back your confusion before walking towards the door of neuvillette’s office, knocking gently.
“monsieur neuvillette? may i come in? i have some papers that must be delivered to you.”
there’s a shuffle from inside, a clearing of the iudex’s throat before a raspy, “yes, of course. come in.”
you enter, walking in slowly as you close the distance between the door and his desk, smiling as you set the file down in your hands. he looks rather…well, you’re not sure, exactly—perhaps the best word would be melancholy. suddenly, sedene’s words from earlier ring in your head, and you wonder if there’s any relation between your absence and his seemingly downcast mood.
so you give him an apologetic look as you speak. “i apologize if my absence was a surprise to you today. it seems i lost track of time with paperwork. i hope you enjoyed a peaceful break with the melusines,” you hum, “you certainly need a proper break with all the duties you take on.”
against your better judgement, you reach over, brushing a strand of misplaced hair from his forehead and tucking it back in place. rarely does the chief justice of fontaine ever look less than prim and proper, if ever at all—and the action causes you to pause just as much as it does him.
he breaks the silence first, and if he notices the slight flustered expression on your face, he doesn’t point it out as he says gently, “it’s quite alright. i’m sure you’re a busy individual.”
“i do quite enjoy my routine visit,” you say shyly, “it was a shame i couldn’t join today. but rest assured, i’ll be present tomorrow.”
“i’m glad to hear it,” he seems to brighten a bit, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he admits in a quieter voice, “truthfully, i had assumed you didn’t want to join me—or excuse me, us,” he coughs, correcting himself at the end.
“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, crinkles forming in your forehead as you quickly shake your head, “of course i love joining you. today was a rare occasion, i’m afraid. i hope i didn’t upset you, monsieur.”
“no,” he shakes his head just as quickly. he coughs, clearing his throat as he adds, “it’s just that i…well, i have come to enjoy your company. a little more than i perhaps should.”
he doesn’t meet your gaze, cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink as you take in his words. silently after a moment, with a bright grin on your face that spreads across your lips and finds itself in the deepest of crinkles in your eyes, you slowly reach over to cup his face.
neuvillette, no matter how trained in self control, cannot help but lean into your touch, staring at you with wide eyes as you rub a delicate circle into the swell of his cheek.
“i’ve come to enjoy your company as well, monsieur. perhaps…perhaps it would be nice to enjoy each other’s company outside of the palais as well,” you offer. and then, eyeing the small opening in the door, you add, “somewhere away from prying eyes.”
neuvillette watches as the door quickly shuts, the soft giggles of the melusines muffled behind the door as he chuckles in amusement. his hand cups the back of your own, cheek laying comfortably in your palm.
“yes,” he murmurs softly, “i think i would love that.”
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ALHAITHAM
alhaitham is not drunk today.
you can tell when you open the door because he’s not swaying, or slurring his words, or staring at you with a hazy look. instead, he’s perfectly sober, perfectly rational, and perfectly collected alhaitham.
you look at him in surprise before smiling in greeting.
“you’re not drunk for once,” you murmur, “i don’t think i ever get a visit from you when you’re not drunk.”
the words make him wince a bit—he doesn’t like the implication of that. alhaitham enjoys your company when he’s not inebriated, especially when he’s not inebriated, in fact. mainly because he can actually recall things that way, like the way you laugh and the crinkle of your eyes. but somehow, being drunk has become a bit of a weekly routine for him at the tavern with his friends (which really, is just cyno and tighnari, and of course, kaveh—but kaveh can hardly be considered a friend these days).
coming to your doorstep every week when he’s drunk becomes a byproduct of his habits. he can’t control them, like an involuntary muscle that moves on its own accord without his permission. just like his heart beats and pumps blood, his feet carry him to find you.
it’s natural, autonomic.
“i didn’t want to drink tonight,” he explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly. alhaitham is blunt—speaking his mind is not a complicated task. he’s sure of his thoughts and opinions, and the response people give them is of little concern to him.
but his thoughts aren’t very coherent when they come to you. he’s not sure of even a single thing, in fact. sure, he knows he likes you—really, really likes you. but sometimes, he contemplates if he’s fallen in love with you. he can’t tell, if he’s being honest, because he’s never been in love before. it’s uncharted waters for even someone as knowledgeable as him.
and then there’s the more difficult part. he’s not sure if you feel the same, or if you’d respond positively to the idea of his developed feelings. logic tells him you’re kind, compassionate, deeply understanding. perhaps you’d let him down gently and still consider him a good friend if you don’t feel the same. but for some reason, there’s an illogical part of him. one he doesn’t recognize. one that tells him that you might walk away and never look twice in his direction again as soon as you realize the nature of his feelings.
logic doesn’t win in his mind for once. it hasn’t for a very long time. it’s why he doesn’t tell you for so long how he feels.but tonight he plans to change that.
regardless of your feelings, requited or unrequited, alhaitham will tell you how he feels. he owes you that much, for all the careful care and deduction you put into handling his drunk self. for all the meals you made and let him eat before letting him crash on your couch. for all the cups of coffee you made his hungover self as you carefully tiptoed around your own home so the noise wouldn’t disturb his pounding head.
he clears his throat, fiddling with his fingers as he stares at his feet.
“do you want to come in?” you offer.
he shakes his head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea. i came…i came to say something.”
“i see,” you nod, “then by all means, share what you have to say.”
it’s not so easy. not when he tries to plan the words in his head as he walks to your home, and not when he’s standing before you. alhaitham is a linguist. he speaks over twenty languages, some of which are known to be romantic by nature. he’s read the divinest of poems and decoded the most complicated of hieroglyphics. he, of all people, should excel in putting words together.
but his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth as he stares at you, though. distantly, he’s aware he must look stupid. standing here, silent and stiff as you stand by your door and wait for him to spit out what he has to say.
so he says the first thing he can think—and it makes his face burn as soon as he realizes what he says. “your sabz meat stew is my favorite.”
you grin, chuckling in amusement as you murmur, “oh my, i’m flattered. you came all this way to praise my cooking?”
“n-no,” he sighs in embarrassment, “that…that’s not what i meant.”
you hum, smiling at him softly as you patiently wait for him to speak again. a part of him feels like you’re aware of something, something that maybe even he’s not aware of himself. but he doesn’t want to dwell on that—perhaps your knowledge is a product of his drunken rambles, and he’s not sure he wants to even begin imagining what that might look like. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.
“well, if you must know,” you giggle, “i enjoy making your favorite for you.”
“i enjoy your stew,” he mumbles, concentrating for a moment before his face hardens with determination and he looks at you, “i enjoy waking up on your couch, and drinking your coffee, and the way you hum when you get ready for the day. it’s enjoyable because it’s you.”
you process his words for a moment before smile slowly, eyeing him with wonder as you break into a fit of giggles. he doesn’t have time to dwell on whether or not you’re laughing at him because there’s an arm looping around his bicep, pulling him in past your door and pressing him against it as soon as it’s shut.
you’re close—it’s the first thing he notices, chest brushed against his chest as you look up at him with a fond, affectionate expression.
“you’re a smart man, alhaitham,” you murmur, “i’m sure you can figure out why i make your favorite every time you come. and make your coffee just how you like. and let you sleep in on my couch when i could be spending my morning enjoying the sun.”
he wants to tell you that he doesn’t feel very smart when he’s around you. it’s like logic is a foreign concept as soon as your smile invades his line of sight. but words are difficult enough to produce when you’re so close, he doesn’t think he could tell you even if he tried.
instead, he asks, “because you’re kind?”
“not kind enough to do groceries for two every weekend,” you chuckle. “unless…”
“unless…?” he asks breathlessly.
“unless it’s you, silly,” you snort. “do fill in the lines, will you?”
he allows himself to hope. because it doesn’t take logic to let himself hope you feel the same way he does.
“if…” he takes a deep breath, taking a moment to contemplate before boldly settling his hands on your hips, “if i come here next week sober, would you still open the door for me?”
“of course,” you whisper.
“if i came whenever i wanted, would you still open the door for me?” he asks, eyes peering into yours desperately, begging you to tell him what he wants to hear.
you sigh, gently cupping his cheeks as he closes his eyes and shudders. “always,” you breathe, “will you come?”
“yes,” he nods. his shoulders slump—in relief and in pure bliss as he lets his head drop to the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your warm skin as you cradle the back of his head. “because i enjoy coming home to you.”
“and i enjoy welcoming you home,” you murmur.
and it’s at the same time that you kiss the side of his head and he kisses the soft skin of your neck, a stumbling mess of limbs pressed against one another as you both find your way to collapse on your familiar couch.
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KAMISATO AYATO
it’s midnight when there’s a knock on your door. it’s rushed, an incessant tapping against the surface that almost has you concerned, but the familiar face through the peephole eases your worries.
and then it hits you—ayato is here. beyond the question of how he has the time to visit you so unexpectedly, there’s the concern of what people might think if he’s seen here so late, standing outside your door.
“ayato? why are you here?” you look at him in confusion as you open the door, eyebrows furrowing as he smiles at you.
“well, hello. such an enthusiastic greeting you’ve afforded me,” he says playfully, making you roll your eyes. “won’t you even invite me in?”
“well, come on then,” you huff, “it’s always something or another with you.”
“whatever do you mean?” he gasps, a hand pressing to his chest in mock hurt, “i’ve simply come to have a heartfelt conversation.”
“at this hour?” you cross your arms, scoffing at his timing. still, you could never turn him away.
it’s not of any trouble to you—ayato knows it too. but there’s something oddly vulnerable about having him in your home, and unexpectedly at that. suddenly, everything feels out of place and untidy to you, a contrast to the large, sophisticated estate you’re sure he must be used to. you shift on your feet, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of someone as important as the yashiro commissioner, standing in your small home where you have nowhere to hide.
“ah,” he nods in amusement, “how impolite of me. shall i take my departure, then?”
“i could hardly turn the yashiro commissioner away without allowing him to speak,” you shake your head, fighting back a smile as he grins. “pray tell, what could have prompted such a spontaneous visit?”
“i’d like to ask for your hand,” he says bluntly.
you blink, gaping at him in disbelief. ayato has never been cruel—in fact, he’s always been much the opposite. especially to you. he’s become painfully important, a friendship you’ve never expected but cannot fathom existing without now that you have him.
but something about this feels cruel, like he’s aware of the deeper feelings you’ve accidentally let surface in the process, feelings you try to push back desperately. how could the yashiro commissioner be seen with someone so far from his realm? someone so disconnected from his world and status?
you furrow your brows, looking at him unimpressed as you murmur, “that’s hardly funny, ayato. be serious.”
“i am serious,” he tilts his head, “i, kamisato ayato, would like to ask for your hand, milady. if you would be so kind, that is.”
his hand is offered to you—and something in your aches to reach for it. to feel his fingers intertwined with yours, to feel the rough calluses of his hands from years of swordsmanship, to feel the gentle warmth of his palm pressed up against yours.
“i-in marriage?” you ask in utter confusion.
he chuckles, hand still outstretched as he raises an eyebrow. “well, i figured marriage would be a bit sudden, but far be it from me to deny such an enthusiastic idea.”
you’re not sure why (or maybe you are, and you simply hate to admit it), but there’s a burning sting in the back of your eyes. something bubbling between humiliation and hurt and flooding in the form of tears as you stare at him unsure if he’s lost his mind, or if he’s simply joking at your expense.
ayato has never made you feel like a victim of casual cruelty from his end, so a small part of you wonders if he’s truly serious. but the more logical part of you tells you that if not a mere attempt at playfulness, what else could this be?
“this isn’t funny,” you whisper, voice small. “i hardly find such pranks entertaining, ayato. i thought you to be better than that.”
it’s silent. deafeningly so, in fact.
his hand drops—slowly, hesitant as he eyes you in uncertainty. he takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough to notice every small detail of your face, but leaving enough of a gap so as not to overstep.
“i hardly find any entertainment in offering myself up, either,” he murmurs, “do reject me gently if you intend to. i’m afraid my age is catching up to me—i have a weak heart.”
“you’re hardly old,” you snort, watching him suppress a smile as he studies you. “you’re really being serious?”
“do you doubt me?”
“i suppose not,” you whisper. his hand extends to you again, something hopeful in his eyes, something almost desperate as he stares at you and waits for you to finally take it in your grasp.
your hand slowly finds his, fingertips grazing those calluses you’ve noticed for so long, rough and firm under the delicateness of your touch. finally, it hits you he came without gloves on, and you realize it must be for the chance of feeling your skin against his, bare touch with no fabric to separate either of you.
you feel him, taking in the years and years of training that show through such toughened skin, and he watches you carefully as you trace along his palm before flattening your own against him, slowly lacing your fingers together.
“i have found the man who attacked you,” he says quietly, “and i’m ashamed to admit the…unsavory methods i was prepared to take to punish his crimes.”
“i hope you wouldn’t stoop to such levels for me,” you say quietly.
“i fear there isn’t much i wouldn’t resort to for your safety,” he admits.
“i’m hardly worth such trouble,” you shake your head, smiling softly as you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the mole you’ve always ached to feel. whether from the brush of your lips or from the graze of your thumb, you’ve always wondered how it’d feel. “there are much more worthy women to be the object of your affections, my lord.”
“ayato,” he corrects. it sounds like a plead, if you listen carefully. “and not to me,” he shakes his head. “it’s you i desire. i’m afraid i cannot concentrate on my duties until i have you. the nation shall befall a most unfortunate fate if i must suffer a single night more without having you.”
“i’m starting to think i am the only hope inazuma has left,” you roll your eyes, staring at him in wonder, “it seems it has fallen to me to ensure we have a functioning yashiro commissioner.”
“i do hope you’ll take such responsibilities seriously.” his hand lays over your own, keeping your touch in place as he leans his face into your palm further, closing his eyes and relishing in your touch.
“oh, ayato,” you chuckle breathlessly, eyes watery as you step closer, closing the gap until your chest presses against his. you wonder if he can hear the rapid thrumming of your heart, if he can feel it. “you’ll be the death of me.”
“i should hope not,” he chuckles, leaning closer and closer until his lips hover over yours, just a millimeter away from brushing against them, “i fear for my own sanity should such an ill fate come before you.”
“oh kiss me, you fool,” you scoff tiredly at his antics.
he doesn’t waste a moment, pressing his lips hungrily against yours, hands wandering to your waist and instantly pulling you closer, fitting his palm to cradle the small of your back. he chases your lips frantically when you pull away, a low grunt of disapproval rumbling from his chest before he plants his lips against yours once more. he kisses you like he’s crossed oceans upon oceans to find you, fixed on keeping you not more than a fingertips distance away at all times so that he’ll never lose you again.
and finally—finally, once he’s decided he’s sufficiently stolen the air from your lungs, he allows you to pull back and breathe.
“i’m afraid i can be a rather overbearing lover,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking them lightly. “you’ll hardly be free of me should i desire your company.”
you chuckle, leaning to kiss his mole softly, cradling his face. “i believe i’ll find a way to cope,” you grin.
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ayato was fun to write last time, and he was just as fun to write this time and i am realizing i have some real hidden feelings for the man the more i write him. i really enjoy doing his dialogue, though i’m not sure if i do it justice. i sure hope i do 🥹
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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OH MY GOD. I'm late to the game (which is funny because I DM'd you on Wednesday after you posted it) in reading chapter 60. I need to just actually use Ao3 the correct way and subscribe to stories but OMG!
I need you to know that this line: "He’s always known he would die for her, long before he’d identified the love he gardened for her, but he’s never been more sure of it than now." BETTER NOT MEAN WHAT I THINK IT MEANS MA'AM.
*tiny voice* I would die.
It was such a gorgeous chapter, I'm literally here sobbing. It was so poetically written and perfect. I know we joke about you torturing us with Mordor, but I can't wait for the torture to begin and for it to be epic and absolutely destroy our hearts. And hopefully there will be a happy ending then too.
Otherwise I propose a general readers strike until you write us an AU to the AU? Cool? Cool. We can not read under these conditions.
Anyway, I love you, you genius.
nonsense there’s no such thing as late to the game! i know some people who are waiting to read until i finish this (and some people who ended up getting impatient and reading anyways which was sort of funny to witness i can’t lie 😭)
and i have no clue what you think that means. 😀 not a single clue. what could that be possibly mean? he just loves her. he loves her a lot. (i need to stop being such a sarcastic jerk oh my gosh)
there’s this phrase i once heard that goes “the waiting is torturous. i hope it’ll last” or at least something along those lines and i think about it a lot while writing this story. i feel like i’ve built and hyped up this sequel quite a bit, and i really hope it meets everyone’s expectations and standards! especially mine haha
also, crazy thing - earlier today i literally had the thought “i’m going to have to write a fix it fic for my own damn fix it fic”. maybe amongst the angst i’ll occasionally come on here and do up some fluffy requests for the entire AU. like, sure, they’re fighting vecna in the current chapter, but would anyone like some ‘willow and eddie adopt their first stray cat’ happiness? just me? okay okay fair enough
i’m sending allllll the love right back at you, you wonderful human being. forever grateful for you guys and putting up with my tomfoolery
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serpentandlily · 26 days
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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth Part II - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)
a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!
➻❥ Part I
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Part II
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
“You look well rested.”
Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room. 
“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”
Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”
You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”
“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.” 
“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.” 
“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.” 
“Not a bad idea.”
More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain. 
A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set. 
You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress. 
By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle. 
The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands. 
The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was. 
Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.
It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.
“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.” 
That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours. 
You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses. 
When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia. 
You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them. 
You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched. 
Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was. 
Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth. 
Your name being called shook you from your thoughts. 
Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”
You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.” 
Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left. 
“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning. 
Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing. 
You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now. 
Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space. 
She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.” 
You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward. 
“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 
“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.” 
He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.” 
You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease. 
“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.” 
Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you. 
It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand. 
“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.” 
“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap. 
When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself. 
Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection. 
Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him. 
You whirled around, backing into the sink. 
“What are you doing here!” 
Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin. 
You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”
“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”
“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?” 
Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick. 
“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”
Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.” 
You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”
“But is it…is it what you want?” 
You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”
Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”
“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”
You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”
“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.” 
“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting. 
“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”
You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…
“Almost what? What were you going to say?”
Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.” 
You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”
“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.” 
“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.” 
“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.” 
“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.” 
You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?” 
“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused. 
You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view. 
Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar. 
“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”
“What do you mean?” You hissed back.
“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly. 
You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”
Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.” 
A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.” 
“Make what easier?”
“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.
Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him. 
Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You won’t,” you replied, honestly. 
His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?” 
His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.” 
You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.” 
Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense. 
“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.” 
“What do you want to know?” 
Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”
You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel. 
“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.” 
Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.
“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.” 
You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.” 
Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room. 
“I’m sorry—” 
You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away. 
“I’m not,” you purred.
Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him. 
His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts. 
His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap. 
Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room. 
It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you. 
“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth. 
“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.
“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?” 
“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.” 
“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone. 
His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving. 
“Azriel?”
“Yes, angel?” 
“Get us out of here.” 
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers. 
“Angel, you don’t have to—”
“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 
Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair. 
You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.
But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.” 
If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth. 
“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” 
Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face. 
“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.” 
You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.” 
You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air. 
Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered. 
You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask. 
“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.” 
You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly. 
“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.” 
“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only. 
“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.” 
“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.” 
Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in. 
“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again. 
You whimpered, “I’m yours.” 
“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.” 
One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building. 
“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”
He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch. 
He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming. 
Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came. 
“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.  
“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear. 
His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl. 
You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you. 
“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered. 
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you. 
The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone. 
“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall. 
The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there. 
“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered. 
You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.
“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk. 
“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.” 
Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?” 
“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”
Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. 
Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you. 
Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true. 
Kill Azriel.   
Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
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helaelaemond · 8 months
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Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader
Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer
Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
"Would my lady care to dance?"
You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."
Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.
"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.
"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.
"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.
Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"
You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."
"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"
The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"
He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."
"And what of your wife?"
Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"
"How often do you dishonour her?"
"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."
You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"
Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"
There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.
"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.
"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."
"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."
Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."
Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.
"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."
Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"
"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."
Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."
You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."
Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.
Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.
Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.
Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.
You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.
"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."
You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.
"My lady!"
Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.
"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"
Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."
"Then stop when you are commanded."
"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."
"And I wish to speak with you."
The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."
He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"
You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."
He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."
"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.
"More than you know."
"I know nothing."
"On that much, we agree."
You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"
"Dignity."
"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"
His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."
"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."
"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"
Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.
"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"
"Of whom?" you challenge.
His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."
"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"
"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.
"What of my expectations?"
He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"
"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."
That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.
You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."
"Too much?"
"Don't. Do not do that."
Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"
"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."
"There is no pretence. I know not."
You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."
He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."
The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"
Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."
"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."
"You care?"
You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."
When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."
"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."
"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."
"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."
"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."
"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.
"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."
"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."
"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.
"I do."
"Not Aegon?"
"No."
He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."
"Will I dance with you?"
"Every night until we are wed."
As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"
"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."
"You want to possess me?"
He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."
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charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
A Thought™️ that I had last night and shared in the Discord server, that I’m now going to share here more fleshed out.
CW for implied/mentioned dubcon, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification, and reader anxiety. Oh and Simon being Mean.
You belong to Johnny — one of his toys, essentially. Like a cock ring or a vibrator but better because you also serve as a little companion pet. Someone that Simon got for Johnny to pour all that overflowing love and tenderness into when he just… can’t handle it. When he starts wanting to hurt Johnny in Very Bad ways past the lines they already walk, only because Johnny wants to dote on him.
So Simon got you as a gift for Johnny.
And he gets to dote on you, chatter to you, soothe you, fuck you. It’s a weird “relationship” you two have. Johnny pouring so much into you while you awkwardly try to reciprocate and tolerate. A bit like a child’s beloved long-suffering pet. Simon lets Johnny drag you everywhere, dress you up, babble on about you. Put in all that attention and energy when Simon is needed (or simply just focused) elsewhere. Johnny’s happy as a peach, Simon gets a bit of a break, and you’re a soft-spined thing that’s stopped crying and whining for the most part so wins all around.
You and Simon’s relationship is nonexistent. Just a matter of logistics. You’re one of Johnny’s toys that Simon got for him, end of. You interact with him only so far as 1, following the rules of captivity; 2, keeping Johnny happy; and 3, being used as a reward or punishment to be given or taken away.
And the two of you are respectively fine with that. You follow Johnny around, speak almost solely to or through him. Are not acknowledged by Simon unless Johnny’s showing you off.
Until Johnny is gone for a Period of Time. A mission, most likely.
While he’s away, you treat it as a sort of vacation and just avoid Simon, don’t even ask when Johnny will be back. Until one day you’re going about your business, kind of bebopping along in your own little world. And almost run directly into Simon.
Blink in surprise, hurriedly skirt around him, pulse skipping. “Excuse me,” you say, soft and melodic (a voice you specifically use to soothe and neutralize) and then pad away quickly.
It flips something in Simon’s brain. Like a cat seeing a bit of interesting movement. Locked on, tail swishing.
You’re just so… shy. Even with Johnny you’ve always been a bit reserved, but with Simon you studiously avoid eye contact with his very person - in a way he can’t even get Johnny to do in the deepest subspace. You’re just this quiet little thing that lives in his house, and it’s like it only just occurs to him.
Simon starts finding ways to hem you in against counters and walls, making you squeeze past in hallways. You try to be so so careful of his Sacred Personal Space because Johnny’s gleeful shared stories (and shown you evidence) about how Simon “handles” touching without permission. You’ve no interest in being on the receiving end of any of that, thank you very much.
But then Simon starts showing up all over the house to watch you like a specimen — you devoid of Johnny. You’re so normal and functional. Snacks and tv shows and novels. Bird watching in the windows. Napping in Johnny’s room. Cooking and cleaning up after yourself.
He starts taking up all the space you just got back. Fills up a room with his presence alone. Squishes you in on the couch until you’re nearly falling over the arm just to maintain that sliver of no-contact.
Gets to the point that he even growls at you when you pass too close, just to hear you squeak and watch you dart off with a mumbled, “sorry!”
“Make us a cup of tea,” he says as your futzing in the kitchen on morning.
You’re so used to being ignored that you don’t respond, mouthing words to some ditzy song stuck in your head. He grunts in annoyance and takes two long strides towards you — not that he needs to, your head snapped up halfway through the first.
“Oop,” you breathe, scrambling away from the counter.
“The hell are you going?” He ask, voice purposefully gruff.
“I, um… I thought… that you needed something…?” you explain, pointing at the cabinets you were just in front of.
“I need a fucking cuppa.”
You blink.
He reminds himself that you’re not trained like Johnny. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting away with anything.
“Do I need to spell it out for you?”
A double blink as you seem to process. “O-oh! Uh, sure. The black cup right?”
You shuffle back to your previous spot and reach into the cabinet, up on your toes because Simon put it a shelf higher than usual. Seem to actually be waiting for a response as you hold the mug up in question. He just stares.
And there goes the nibbling - a nervous habit that tears up your bottom lip. Still, you keep going, filling the kettle and tapping your fingers nervously at the sides as you wait.
“Earl Grey?” you ask.
He grunts. You look a little frustrated about that, if you should take it as a yes. Decide that it is and fish a sachet out while the water’s heating.
While you wait, you try to continue what you were doing before - making yourself a little parfait - but Simon’s stationed himself in such a way that you can’t get to the cutting boards without asking him to move. And you really, really want some of the fresh fruit he bought yesterday.
“Um…” you start.
He crosses his arms, seems to loom without ever taking a step closer. You fidget, fingers twisting in the long sleeves of your jumper.
“I need — could… could you…?” You’re flushing brighter and brighter, eyes darting all over so fast he’s surprised you’re not dizzy. “Could I get by… um, into that cupboard… please?”
He takes a single half step to the side. Your eyes actually get a bit shiny as you blink, confusion and anxiety welling up. But you keep it together enough to awkwardly angle yourself, get the cabinet open just a sliver, and maneuver a cutting board out.
Simon realizes you’re holding your breath the entire time, until you’re once again a safe distance away. He snorts softly as you pluck a tiny paring knife from the block and get to work on cutting up your assortment of fruits.
“Who the hell said you could have a knife?” he demands.
You pause, give him a truly baffled look. “Um… no one said I couldn’t? I just, uh, use them sometimes. Johnny’s taught me tricks. Or-or tried to anyway…”
It’s the most he’s ever heard you speak. Your tone catches between appeasement and genuine confusion. You finish cutting a strawberry into cubes, then send him a worried glance.
“Am I… not supposed to…?”
Because you know that it doesn’t matter how things normally are. What matters is how Simon wants things to be.
“Put that down.”
You do. He strides towards you and as always, you’re quick to make way. He takes up the knife to finish paring and jerks his head at the the stove.
“Tea’s almost done. Take care of it.”
You jump as the kettle starts to whistle, murmur a quick “oh, shoot!” as you hurry to finish making his tea. By the time you’re done, he’d cut all the fruit and stolen a handful as a toll for his “help”.
Hasn’t actually put any of the fruit in your waiting yogurt, though. And the dishes are still there on the counter, along with detritus of unwanted bits like strawberry tops.
He takes a sip — made just the way he likes.
“Next time, dont make me repeat myself,” he barks.
You jump nearly a mile, blueberries rolling across the counter.
“Y-you repeated yourself?” You ask, hurrying to catch the berries before they hit the ground.
“About the tea,” he explains impatiently.
You blink for a second. “Oh! I thought you were on the phone. Sorry.”
He grunts. And doesn’t leave. After a moment, the pressure of his stare seems to get to you.
“Was… there anything else…?” you wonder.
“I’d tell you if there was,” he replies, flat.
You swallow, press your lips together, then continue with your task, shoulders a little tenser than before. When your parfait is finished (and dishes are in the machine) you escape to the dining table to eat in peace. He gives you two solitary bites before he’s at the corner next to you, and your spoon clinks against the bowl in surprise.
Well.
Isn’t this a fun game?
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wandasverison · 4 months
Text
Mind Games
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pairing: wanda maximoff x female reader
word count: 2.6k?
summary: gf!wanda maximoff; reader makes a joke about Wanda invading their mind while they have sex, Wanda takes it a little too seriously and y/n makes it up to her with apologies and a little seduction.
warnings: 18+, two second mommy kink, slight electrocution (if that’s even what you’d call it), smut for sure, oh yeah mind reading (major), mind altering? (slight? not really, just trippy Wanda powers)
a/n: like I’ve said I DONT WRITE so help me out pls n thank yewwwww, comments and criticism send it my way; I also put a random placeholder title in with the intention to change it so if it changes,,, sorry
————————————————————————————
“Since you’re already in my brain when we fuck…” you joke, glancing up at your girlfriend’s face.
And the reaction was not what you were expecting.
“Y/n, are you being serious right now?” Her previous smile has faded, eyebrows dropped in confusion, and the light that had just sparkled her eyes, begins to darken. In one shitty second, you’ve ruined the entire conversation.
“I- I didn’t mean it like that, it was a joke, you know, cuz… I, I just think, I kind of maybe thought-“
“What did you think? Better yet, what do you think of me, y/n?” Wanda scoots back, accustomed to people’s fear and intimidation of her powers, but you were different. From the day Tony brought you in, you’d shown loyalty to the program, and especially in her. Both of you had a sense of “uncontrollability” in your powers, causing your teammates to occasionally get alarmed. This bonded you two like no one else, until one day when you gave up and kissed her.
“Wanda, I’m sorry,” allowing her to keep the distance, but staring into green eyes, you truthfully whisper, “I don’t think anything negatively of you, I trust you more than anyone I’ll ever know. So to me it’s not an invasion of space, but I’m so sorry to ever make you feel like you’re-”
“A mind voyeur? Y/n, you know how I feel about consent and using my powers for…”
“I know! I know!” This time you inch closer, daring to place your hands in her lap. “You’re just…soo…soooo good, I didn’t know if it was all this,” your hands slowly crawl from her thighs, up to her waist, shoulders, then finally landing on her temples, “or if you just had a little bit of help. There’s just no way you know my body that well, is there?” You place a kiss on her forehead, knowing what this is doing to her.
Wanda attempts to hide the tremble her body lets out as your lips part from her skin, but you notice it all too well and decide to take things up just a notch. Slipping onto her lap, you straddle her on the couch in the Avengers compound living room.
“Y/n, what the hell are you doing?” Her voice is low, but you can hear the slight rasp in tone.
You begin attacking her neck with small, delicate kisses before speaking, “I trust you Wands and I love you so much,” another kiss, “don’t you want to know how much I love you?” and one on the jawline, “Aren’t you just a little tempted to hear all of the things I think about-” and the last one, right under her ear, “while you fuck me?”
Wanda grabs ahold of your waist, involuntarily grinding into you before collecting herself. “Hey, I thought you already were telling me everything?” Her head tilts and she gives you a warning smirk.
But you’re not allowing her to regain composure so easily, so you play the brat card. “I was, but I guess I’ll be silent from now on,” a fake pout.
She smirks at your mischievous nature and tests your words, snaking her hands up your sides. They sneak under your shirt and the feeling of her warm digits against your bare skin drives you mad. You stay strong in holding silent, even when her fingertips graze past your chest for what feels like a millisecond. Though you manage to stay quiet, you’re quivering and shuddering with each swift movement of her fingertips. Every part of you she touches leaves a trail of goosebumps and leaves you in an even more soiled state than before.
Suddenly, she stops and you’re brought back to your senses, panting and groaning on top of her, “you’re an asshole,” the joke is obvious considering your small argument before. An argument that may change our entire sex lives.
“And you kept your word!” Wanda removes her hands from beneath your tee as you grin and nod at her, almost genuinely proud of your own self.
“Then it looks like I’ll need to get inside your mind, huh?” Your smile fades as the realization of the situation dawns on you. If you could see yourself, you were sure your eyes had turned black with lust, but everything happened so quick there was no time to care.
“We’re not doing this here,” Wanda quickly bolts up from the couch, with you still gracefully in her lap, and whisks the two of you away to your shared room down the hall. Before you even know it, she’s on all fours above you and you’re pressed into the sheets of the bed.
“Tell me you want this,” once again, lustful hands are tracing the sways and curves of your body. Occasionally she plants a kiss, some harder than others, sometimes she bites and sucks, marking you as hers.
Your head rocks back and you let your mind run wild. Please, please, please, Wanda. I’m yours, mark me everywhere. I’m only yours. Take over me.
You know she’s begun making her way into your brain because that last remark causes her to stop in her tracks. “Y/n?”
When your eyes meet, you pray she’s still there— my mind is yours Wanda. You can do anything you want with me, I just want you.
The red instantly washes any reminiscence of green from her eyes and you let out a salacious moan at the sight.
Wanda crawls up for the most lustful kiss she’s quite possibly ever given you. Her tongue doesn’t bother ask for entrance as it swirls around to find yours. The two of you can’t seem to find a sweet spot to place your hands, traveling up and down both of your sides, every now and then one of you reaches up and grabs a fistful of the other’s hair, eliciting numerous whimpers. Mainly from you.
“Fuck—” you accidentally let out between kissing. Feeling her smirk against your lips you try this mind reading thing again. Fuck. Me. Wands.
A small growl chokes out of Wanda. You like this? You think as you stare at her again, the eyes turning you on more and more by each second. You like hearing my disgusting, dirty thoughts Wanda? You’re normally not this vulgar, or this submissive but you can see what it’s doing to her, which drives you insane.
Your obscenity was obviously making Wanda frantic. You’d never seen her eyes this red before. Sometimes they would tint when she came in the past, but now they were fully glowing scarlet red with no green in sight. You were sure to be soaked.
“Let’s check that, shall we?” She grinned. To your surprise, but not disappointment, she’d gotten into your subconscious thoughts. Fuck, every part of you felt exposed and in the best way.
“You don’t know this yet detka, but you’re going to like this very much,” she whispers in your ear before pinning your hands above your head. When you glance down you see small red particles dance over the tips of her fingers. “It’s not going to hurt—” she reassures your initial fear of the unknown, before her smile fades into lust and she continues, “it’s not going to hurt… at the beginning.”
Her tone and newly found dominance destroys any sense of stability you thought you had. You and Wanda have had sex before, numerous times actually, but you’d both been too nervous to show each other these, rawer sides.
She stays true to her word and starts slow. You’re both incredibly carnal, but this is still very new.
She places a kiss down on your chest, then in the exact spot you feel a slight shock. Again, a kiss that is soon replaced with a jolt. Another, this time lowering toward your waistline. Wanda annoyingly tugs at your pants and it takes you less than a second to have them off. The red eyes make contact with yours, “why don’t you just get rid of everything, baby.”
After nodding, you quickly remove the rest of your clothing articles, revealing yourself completely for her.
You’re an absolute mess underneath Wanda, whimpering and quivering as she stares down at your nude and utterly revealed self. Please, Wanda. Keep going. Harder this time.
“God, y/n—“ she moans and resumes absolutely toying with you, giving you an overwhelming mixture of kisses and shocks in between speaking. “I knew you’d like it but I didn’t realize how much I would…” she purrs and turns it up a notch, the jolts getting stronger and more aggressive with each sloppy kiss.
She trails her hand down so delicately toward where you’ve been begging. A harsh shock between your legs forces out a moan so loud you’re worried someone might have heard. Wanda immediately covers your mouth, “sorry, I could have known that was coming,” but it’s obvious she isn’t sorry as she jolts you again, even harder. Thankfully, her opposing hand is there to cover your mouth and any noise gets suppressed behind the woman’s digits.
She’s completely invaded your mind. She knows exactly what you like. All of your horrible, dirty secrets and thoughts and you can’t help but moan again at the thought. If you thought she knew you before, fuck, did she know you now.
“You’re mine, yes?” Her eyes bore into yours and the devilish grin almost sends you over the edge. You’re near done for and she hasn’t even touched you anywhere significant yet.
Struggling to get the words out over your trembling state and her nearly muzzling you, she removes her left hand, allowing you a quick moment of recollection. Her right hand traces up your body so slow it’s near torturous, “shh, patience detka.” You nearly pass out when she gets to your chest and slowly traces around your nipple. She teases it harshly for a minute, before continuing up your collarbone, to your neck and finally she rests her hand on your chin. Her eyes start to glow harder when she takes her hand and traces your lips with her fingertips. For a moment you keep your lips pursed shut, but when you look up at her you slowly drop your jaw and she slips two fingers inside.
“That’s it detka, suck. Such a good girl,” Wanda praises your efforts in lubricating her digits, allowing you to showcase skills you don’t normally use. The sight made her dizzy and she did everything in her power to apply the patience lesson to herself, instead of just taking you right then and there.
Because you were absolutely begging. She could hear it and feel it. Wanda’s powers were doing more than she even knew were possible, which is why she avoided using them in sexual circumstances. Her irrational fear that they would get out of hand.
But this was more than okay, she could hear you pleading to be filled, your moans enveloped Wanda’s mind like you were the one with magical powers. She could feel exactly where you wanted to be touched, each and every spot. But what burned the most was the feeling in her own core, which had to be the replication of what you were feeling and she notices she’s been teasing you long enough now.
She pulls her fingers from your mouth and for a second you’re disappointed. You knew she couldn’t feel it, but you’d got so caught up, it felt as if you were pleasing her. “Don’t be upset y/n, I liked it just as much as you, I just want to put these somewhere else. I think we’ll both still enjoy it.”
Though her fingers go absent from your mouth, they’re replaced by her tongue as her left hand pulls you in for second kiss. The right makes its way to your folds, slowly teasing your overly sensitive area. You’re absolutely drowning in the kiss when Wanda slowly pushes her fingers toward your entrance.
Please, please, please.
“Out. Loud.” She commands through the lustful kisses.
“P-pu-ple-“ she grazes slightly over your clit, “fuCK! Wanda,” she knows she’ll ruin you with teasing. “Fuck me. Please. I need you now Wands.”
The slight movements quickly turn into swift back and forth flicks. “Are you sure?” She questions blankly, clearly toying with you.
“God, Wanda,” trying to regain any composure, “Yes, I’ve been begging, what else do you want from me?” You manage to get out.
“I want you to finally address me how you’ve been wanting to,” she picks up her pace and your hips start to move along with her fingertips.
At first you’re truthfully confused. But it may not be confusion, your brain is actually just clouded with lust. It takes only 5 seconds of Wanda playing with your clit for you to realize what she’s talking about.
Shit.
“Don’t be embarrassed detka, it’s quite sexy. I’m rather upset you haven’t told me sooner”
Wanda…
You know of no other way to say it than in the smallest, neediest whimper you can muster, “please fuck me mommy.”
She smiles, “such a good girl,” and her two fingers drop from your clit to your entry. “Look at me,” she orders and you comply, getting completely lost in the crimson orbs. They flash once as her fingers dive inside you, eliciting lewd moans from both parties.
“God, y/n, you’re so fucking wet,” she starts slow, pumping in and out, knowing the pace destroys you, she mocks, “oh detka, you want more?”
You don’t just want more, you need more and Wanda gives just that and then some. She picks up the tempo and curls her fingertips, delicately tormenting your lower half.
Your hands grasp and pull at locks of her hair. The harder the tug, the deeper her digits descend inside you. A panting mess beneath her, Wanda locks lips with yours once again. This time it nearly takes your breath away.
She continues the rapid pace and feeling your heart rate heighten, ends the kiss for just a second to instruct, “cum for mommy, y/n.”
“Shit—” you can’t help the profanities slipping from your lips as she places hungry kisses down your jawline, “—fuck Wanda, I’m…”
“You don’t think I know?” she finds a spot and bites down unexpectedly hard, eliciting a carnal cry from you. “Now, do as you’re told, love, you’re already getting so tight for me.”
For a second you’ve forgotten that she’s been in your mind this entire time. She knows exactly where each and all of your sweet spots are and is manipulating every single one to the highest extent. Your girlfriend, who never wanted to use her powers for this was now playing and fucking with your every sense. You. Loved. It.
And just like that the orgasm completely enveloped you. Grinding and riding against her fingers, you couldn’t begin to think about who may have been hearing your jumbled whimpers, as you no longer had any control. Your incoherent string of murmurs soon were drowned out as she leans into you, your mouth finding its way into the crook of her neck. Biting down gently, she doesn’t slow her pace as she lets you ride out your orgasm and you almost come again when her hair falls over your face. You knew the Ambrette 9 smell anywhere, it was her favorite and you’ve been enamored with it ever since she walked into the boardroom and was seated next to you on a mission briefing. The smell intoxicated you the whole damn time.
“Didn’t know you’ve been into me since day one,” she giggles and gently removes the two fingers from you, drawing out yet another moan. Her hand draws slowly to her lips, where she licks you clean off her fingers.
“Quit!” Playfully pushing her hand away, “Maybe you should have just gone in my head the first day we met, huh?”
Wanda snickers at your remark and pulls the covers over the two of you, then pulls you in for a loving embrace.
“Glad I didn’t… I wouldn’t have been able to be in the same room with you and those naughty thoughts.”
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dante-mightdie · 6 months
Note
My (poorly written) BlueCollaredSimon! thought for you:
Simon’s halfway through his shift when he realizes he’s forgotten his lunch. It’s no skin off his back, he’s gone hungry through a shift before and besides he’s a grown man and can handle it. Except you, his sweet little thing, pull up to deliver his lunch that you made him, adorned with a sweet note written you wrote by hand.
He sits in the dirt, head tilted back against a wall and doesn’t move when he hears a car pull up. People come and go so he doesn’t react much. But when he hears your sweet voice his eyes open immediately. You’re standing over by Price and Soap and asking for him, sweetly holding up his lunch box. But what really has his attention is your dress, so flowy and beautiful on you, the blue fabric compliments you so perfectly. It drives him insane.
It ignites a fire in his belly when he watches Soap take off his hard hat and place it on your head.
“What are you doing here?” He asks as he approaches.
“You left your lunch,” You say, so innocent and sweet as you hold out the worn out blue bag. He takes it in one hand. He lets out a quick ‘thanks’ before he’s ushering you back to your car. He shuts the door for you once your in and watches you drive off.
Later that day as your preparing dinner he sneaks in behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck. You yelp and let out a harsh, ‘Jeez Simon you scared me!’ He can be pretty quiet for such a big guy.
“‘M sorry love, didn’t mean to scare ya,” He says softly, brushing your hair off your neck with a dirty hand, “Thank you for bringing my lunch, love. So sweet to me, more than I deserve. Always taking care of me, hm?”
“Always,” you say sweetly as you reach back to set one hand on his stubbly cheek. “But you were quite rude to me.”
“How so?” He grunts.
“You ushered me off like you didn’t want me there. You didn’t even give me a proper thank you,” You whine, “no goodbye kiss either.”
“‘M sorry, love. But you are right, I don’t want you there, ever. You are mine darling. Mine to look at, to touch, to take care of. If you need a hard hat you take mine you hear?”
“Jealous, jealous, jealous,” You tease as you stir the pot on the stove. “All this fuss over a hard hat.”
“‘S the principle of it, love,” He huffs.
You sigh and turn to face him, cupping his dirty cheeks. “Simon Riley, quit your fussing,” you say with a soft smile, “I’m all yours love, ok? I don’t want John or his stupid hard hat. Now, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready.”
what do you expect when you show up to his worksite in the pretty dress that he bought you with the money that he earned >:(
letting soap shamelessly check you out, smiling at him sweetly whilst he pants like a dog in heat
and then you let him put his hard hat on you and you giggled. you’ve never once shown interest in wearing simons hat.
so obviously he sulks for the rest of the day, feeling a little sorry for himself when he drags his feet into the kitchen where you’re making dinner
needs all your attention for the next few days and next time you go to his site, he keeps a hand planted on your ass and tells you to stay for his lunch break so you can sit in his lap and feed him &lt;3
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
Note
haii! :33
can i request boothill and argenti (seperately) with a shy gn!reader who gets flustered easily? whether it would be through words, physical touch or stuff like that
thank youu!! ^_^
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Jing yuan:
Smug bastard.
Acts like he wasn’t the reason you were flustered to the high heavens from brushing his hand across your waist.
‘Are you alright my dear?’ He’d say, faking innocence as he intentionally held your face in his hands, softly caressing your cheeks as he felt them gradually grow warmer with every stroke of his thumbs. ‘You’re feeling rather warm here, should I get you to a doctor?’ He adds with a knowing smile.
‘N-no. I’m fine.’ You’d say, unable to form actual thoughts as your mind was heavily focused on a plethora of things, from the way that his hands held your face as though it were porcelain, to the way he caresses your skin felt like kisses in their own right.
The acclaimed dozing general raised an eyebrow as his smile only grew more mischievous. ‘Are you sure? You’re really heating up my dear, I wouldn’t want you to faint on me now,’ he then leaned in close, chuckling upon hearing you gasp a the close proximity, whispering. ‘Unless that’s your intention.’
Jing Yuan thoroughly enjoyed being the reason you were flustered and found your reactions addictive, so much that he would start doing things where he got to see that reaction as much as possible.
Touching your hand
Brushing shoulders
Sitting really close to you/ ‘accidentally’ falling asleep on you, etc.
However if you were to ever express that you wanted him to stop, he will as he understands that you might not want to be made to fluster all the time. He’s not a dickhead and respects you greatly for giving him the ability to start living life again.
Argenti:
This man speaks from the bottom of his heart, there’s not a single lie to be found in his words, and it was due to that undeniable truthfulness that left you more flustered then not.
‘I only speak the truth my beloved rose.’ He says softly as he held your hands in his own all the while maintaining eye contact, which didn’t help you in any way shape or form as you felt your face practically burst into flames and your heart going at a mile an hour the longer you stay in close proximity to him.
He smelt of roses and chivalry, which was odd as you didn’t think chivalry could have a smell, but with Arenti anything was seemingly possible.
‘You are the beauty that I’ve been seeking and now that I have you, I have no doubt that I will love you for eternity should it be allowed of me.’
Boom, you’re dead and on the floor as you stare up at the ceiling as Argenti was quick to move to kneel at your side, face full of concern as his face hovers over you all the while his hair acted as ruby red curtains, forcing you to solely focus on his extremely pretty face. He looked like an angel in that moment and you somehow still found it in you to get even more flustered upon gazing at his face.
He’s genuinely concerned about you whenever you got flustered, his heart and soul were just so pure that he wasn’t really clicking onto the fact that he was the reason you were constantly flustered.
‘My dear flower, what’s wrong? Have I hurt you somehow? Should I seek medical attention?’ - him.
‘No, I’m okay. Just give me a few minutes…or an hour.’ -you, flustered to the high heavens and embarrassment for making him worry.
Boothill:
Smug bastard 2.0
The moment you shown him how easily flustered you could get, it’s over for you as you’ve given Boothill ammunition to keep finding new ways to flustered you on the daily.
Your reactions were his drug and he’d gladly overdoes on them if he could but that might be going a bit too far, however he didn’t care because you being flustered from almost anything he did had become everything to him.
So he would nuzzle his cheek to yours.
Playfully nibbles on your earlobe, shoulder, neck, arms, lips and takes enjoyment in your squeals and attempts to get away from him, only to be pulled back in.
Kissing your lips constantly, even more so in public.
The teasing is never ending with Boothill.
He’s relentless, unyielding and extremely brutal in his teasings that you may as well be permanently flustered. However if you were to shyly give this gremlin a taste of his own medicine by boldly kissing his cheek, he’s suddenly silent and a little fluttered.
He just loves smothering you in love and will continue to do so as nothing else mattered to him in that moment more than you and the effects he had over you.
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h4m1lt0ns · 8 months
Text
HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.
episode seven :: OBSESSED.
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔y/n’s fans are obsessed with heartbreak syndrome, and so is the entire grid. the entire grid.
fc – wonyoung jang (28)
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕i misspelled ‘hear’ for ‘heart’ in a tweet, sad music, shady behaviour, short one :( none.
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y/n
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♡ liked by theweeknd, lewishamilton and 10,482,583 others.
y/n beyond grateful 🥹🤍 truly can’t begin to express how thankful i am for you guys, thank u thank u thank u from the bottom of my heart for the support that you’ve shown for the album 🫂💐 it means a lot more than u will genuinely ever know and i’m so happy i get to celebrate highs this high with u !! once again, thank u for letting me share this part of my life with you and thank u for enjoying the sad bullshit i sang abt 💌 i love you. forever. this is ours. grateful for u, always my loves ⭐️🫧❣️
2,492,123 comments.
theweeknd deserved. truly 🖤
➜ y/n thank u for being a part of this 🖤
username NO ONE DESRVES THIS MORE THAN YOU MISS Y/L/N 🙏🏻
➜ y/n I LOVE U GUYS
arianagrande so happy n honoured i got to be a part of ur journey my angel <3 i’m so incredibly proud of u n i always will be y/n 🤍
➜ y/n 🫂🫀
username there’s something so y/n abt y/n naming charles and george as chal and princess on her phone
username carmen is so real for blasting film out
username “acting like a feral dog” CHARLES GETS MEEEEEE
username me 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾 charles 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾 george
username FILM OUT IS SO GOOD I LOVE CARMEN
username no bc what did y/n and abel actually put in that transition?? charles is onto something i fear
username “chal eclair” LMFAOAO
username WE’RE SO PROUD OF YOU Y/N 💐
lilymhe my girl ❤️ forever and always
➜ y/n love u.
y/l/nestate 🎊🎊🎊
landonorris so proud i can’t put it into words 🧡
➜ y/n MY SON IS PROUD OF ME Y’ALL 😭
pierregasly #1 FAN SINCE DAY ONE 🗣
➜ francisca.cgomes liar, that’s me actually
➜ y/n i love you both (kika more) to DEATH
➜ username HAKSKAKWK
➜ username LMFAOOOOO
➜ username pierre is so so so real
username WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH
➜ y/n I LOVE YOU MORE
➜ username we love you more
➜ y/n nah i love you more 😁
➜ username WE LOVE YOU MORE 👹
➜ y/n I LOVE YOU MORE 😡
➜ username 👹👹👹
➜ y/n RAWRRRRRR
➜ username what’s going on 😭
➜ username no clue 😭😭😭
username leave me lonely is on REPEAT
➜ username YOURE A DANGEROUS LOOOVE
➜ username BABY YOURE NO GOOD FOR ME DARLING
➜ username IF YOURE GONNA LOVE ME THEN LEAVE ME HANGING HERE
➜ username THEN ID RATHER YOU LEAVE. LEAVE ME LONNNELYYYYY
username MOTHER SAVED THE INDUSTRY PER USUAL ‼️
yukitsunoda0511 I LOVE YOU
➜ y/n I LOVE YOU MORE
honeymoon 💋
➜ y/n MOMMY
username QUEEN OF MUSICCCCCC 🗣
lewishamilton congrats to the stargirl 🥳🖤
➜ username ariana what are you doing here-
➜ y/n the real star is YOU sir lew 🙏
alexandrasaintmleux MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRL 🫶🏼
➜ y/n ALL YOURS BABY ALEXANDRA 😩
senastianvettel beautiful music, beautiful soul ❤️ congratulations y/n! i miss you a lot :)
➜ y/n i miss u too seb 🥲🖤
username y/n stan til i die 🫡🎖
➜ username 🫡
➜ username 🫡
lewishamilton #1 cinnamon girl fan 😮‍💨
➜ y/n i told you you’d love lana 🤭
➜ username y/n x xnda when
➜ username not him commenting twice
➜ username LEWIS IS A Y/N FAN?!?!
➜ username “i told you you’d love lana” bae when did u tell him that 😦
➜ username when did they even meet
➜ username italian gp def, she was at the mercedes garage for george
➜ username i like where this is going 🤭
➜ username me too 🤭
username SEBASTIAN IS ON Y/N’S SIDE?? OH M4X FUCKED UUUUPPP.
➜ username I KNOWWWWWWW
➜ username friendships were LOST huh
jensonbutton love love love the album 💕
➜ y/n omfg. i. well. THANK YOU. ILY??
➜ username jensonbutton she had a crush on when she was little
➜ y/n bLOCKED.
➜ username NOT U EXPOSING Y/N
➜ jensonbutton cutie lol
➜ y/n paSSING THE FUCK AWAY GOOD NIGHT.
➜ username LMFAOO
➜ username FOSKDNS
➜ username WHAT 😭😭😭
➜ username PLS
☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
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y/n: screaming vomiting crying rolling on the floor sliding against the walls scraping my knees snot bubbles in my nose literally can’t breathe
princess george: …
princess george: should i even ask 😐
chili!: j button called her a cutie and said he loved her album
chal eclair: she’s been freaking out abt it for the past half hour
my baby lando: shit i’d freak out too
alabono: bae he’s just a man ???
honey badger: ^^^^
y/n: NO HE’S NOT 😡
y/n: HE’S JENSON BUTTON 😩🤭
PIERRE GASLYYYY: she didn’t react like this when i told her i like her album 🤨
girlfriend kika: tbf ur not jenson button
babygirl alex: okay but she’s so real for that
chal eclair: ¿¿¿¿
chal eclair: since when-
chal eclair: okay.
yukino: i didn’t know y/n had a crush on jenson until her fans exposed her 😭
honey badger: LMFAO
honey badger: I WAS CACKLING I KNEW SHE WANTED TO DIE
y/n: wooOOOW
y/n: let’s laugh at y/n’s pain huh
wifey lily: well he called you cute
y/n: yeah 😍
angel carmen: all of you shut up
angel carmen: y/n.
y/n: yes ma’am 🫡
angel carmen: heartbreak syndrome tour when.
y/n: heheheheheheh
alabono: !!!!?!?!?!?????!?!!
chili!: HEHEHE????
babygirl alex: MISS GIRL.
girlfriend kika: don’t play w me rn
girlfriend kika: i’m already over sensitive from overplaying the heart wants what it wants
my baby lando: so so so real
y/n: something else is coming before tour 🤭
honey badger: spill w the quickness 🙏🏻
princess george: immediately
yukino: Y/N??????
my baby lando: MUM SAY SOMETHING
chili!: BITCH I SWEAR TO GOD
chal eclair: YOU CANT JUST DROP THAT INFORMATION AND DIP
wifey lily: PICK UP THE PHONE Y/NNNNN
chal eclair: LMFAO
chal eclair: carlos is chasing her with scissors threatening to make her bald if she doesn’t say anything 😭😭😭😭
my baby lando: LMFAOOOOO
princess george: 💀💀💀
alabono: cRYING
angel carmen: wait u traitors
angel carmen: you guys are together???
my baby lando: now wait fr.
chal eclair: uhm.
PIERRE GASLYYYY: charles answer the question 😁🔪
chal eclair: bye my pasta is burning
honey badger: cUNT COME BACK HERE
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kellypiquet added to their story!
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2K notes · View notes
maysileeewrites · 5 months
Text
DON’T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND || MASTERLIST
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best friend!Coriolanus x capitol!reader
concept post || my Coriolanus Snow masterlist
Summary:
You and Coryo have been best friends ever since you can remember. You’ve been through everything together and you’ve always been there for each other.
You’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore.
First, you think that it’s only you, but then Coryo starts behaving differently towards you as well, lingering touches, teasing comments and burning stares that only add to your confusion.
As the lines of friendship become more and more blurred, you feel yourself starting to fall more and more for your best friend - the one thing you’d never wanted to do, because you know that, ultimately, it will just end in heartbreak for you … right?
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I’m so excited to get started on this mini series!! thank you guys so much for all the love you’ve shown my little concept post I made yesterday!!
so far I’m planning on 4 parts (yes, there will be smut later on, but first we need some build up and some delicious tension), but who knows how many more ideas I’ll get while writing ;)
also: yes, I’ve been listening to Dress and So It Goes … on repeat whilst working on the concept for this story, hence the chapter titles lol
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Part I: don’t want you like a best friend || find a teaser and another one here :) 🦋🪷💫 (17+, no super intense smut - yet)
Part II: gold cage, hostage to my feelings (coming soon!!; find a teaser here!) 🦋🪷
Part III: only bought this dress so you could take it off 🦋💫
Part IV: so it goes … 💫
🦋 fluff
🪷 angst
💫 smut
the tag for this will be don’t want you like a best friend 🦋!
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series taglist:
@asapkyndall @slitsphilia @ravenclawprincess33 @mckennah123 @serving-targaryen-realness @mentallyyy-unstable @mizuki80 @snows-wife @prettyinsatiable @ashcosmo @generally-awqward @snowflxke @nallasstuff @ajs-222 @spiritofbuddha @notyourwildestdream @earthangel-111 @bhdem @toogardenheart @iheartinkonpaper @daisiesformylove @ebsmind @dominqueeekk @cherrybomb8484 @dangelnleif @minmin1328 @xhyaryx @nycweb-slinger @acatwriteshere @lookclosernow @allcheesemelts @bxtchopolis @hopefulcupcakerebel @squidscottjeans @evan-peters-wife @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @ghsface @spear-bearing-bi-witch @loxbbg @floralcyanide @ilikefictionalmen @smxipixie @devils-blackrose @lcvecstiel @leigh-kay @r02eg0ld @gottoomanycelebritycrushes @nomorespahgetti @wpdarlingpan @sabrinasbd @alwaysvettel1 @flu0re @alpha-mommy69 @iwantosleep @hikarikram @scarletttargaryen @angelicblondie @ultrav10l3nce @kuroosbby001 @coriosgf @tristanswildcat @insomniac1345 @reapers-lover @wearemadeofstardust0 @i-understand-vangogh @loiita-xo
comment or dm me if you want to be on the taglist for this! :)
tumblr won’t let me tag some of you guys, please check your settings (settings —> general —> mentions —> anyone) whether anyone can tag you in posts! :)
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reiderwriter · 10 months
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Margaritas and Mistakes
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).
Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI
Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.
A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!
PART TWO!
You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.
“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.
“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”
“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.
“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”
“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.
“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”
“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”
You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.
“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.
“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.
“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”
“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.
“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”
This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.
“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…
–X–
After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.
You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.
Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.
“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.
“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.
“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.
“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.
“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.
“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.
“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.
“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.
“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.
“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"
“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.
“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.
“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.
“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.
“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.
“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.
–X–
Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.
After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.
So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.
But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.
But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.
He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.
You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.
“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.
“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.
Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.
“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.
You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.
Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.
“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.
“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”
“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.
“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.
“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.
“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.
“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.
“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.
“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”
They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.
“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.
“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.
“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.
The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.
“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.
“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”
“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”
“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”
“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.
–X–
Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.
“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.
“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.
“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.
“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.
“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.
“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.
Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.
“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.
“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.
Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.
“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.
“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.
Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.
“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.
As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.
You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.
“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.
“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.
He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.
“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”
“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.
“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”
And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.
PART TWO
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teyammybeloved · 6 months
Text
BABY FINGER
miguel o’hara
summary: you’ve got miguel wrapped around your finger, and everybody knows it, man is whipped.
warnings; mostly just fluff, miguel being hopelessly devoted to ready and being an absolute pussy whipped man, swearing, kissing, a little bit suggestive.
“thank you miggy” you say softly, kissing his cheek as he hands you the corn starch. you had decided to have a little pre- christmas lunch with your friends, and obviously miguel having a house way to big for just the two of you, it was easily decided you guys would throw the lunch.
plus you loved to cook, and made delicious food so it was kind of a no brainer.
“no worries, amor” he says softly, itching to wrap his arms around your waist while you coat the chicken. but he knows he will just be a distraction when you guys only have little over two hours to get majority of stuff done— the cooking can still be done when all your friends are here, but you liked being prepared.
“hey miggy?” you say, he perks up, looking at you. the minute he hears your sweet tone, and angelic voice its like every bit of common sense leaves his mind, its all just you.
“yeah baby?” he asks, sitting on one of the barstools on the otherside of the counter, just watching you. you place all the chicken on a tray, putting it in the fridge.
“did you finish wrapping all the presents for everybody?” you ask, watching the flour egg and corn starch mixture off your hands. miguel nods, “course, did it as soon as you asked” you smile at him.
“your perfect” you say, tilting your head at him with the cutest smile, he wants to take a photo of it and have it printed the size of his house, he is perfect? if he is perfect then youre out of this world unreal.
“do you need help with anything” he asks, standing up, now that you weren’t doing anything, he could wrap his arms around you as much as he wanted.
he stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he holds you close to him, you lean into his touch, humming. “i think- we are pretty good with time.” you mutter.
“yeah?” he asks softly, his voice is gentle in your ear, making you smile. “yeah, i think so. everything is prepped, i just have to actually, cook it” you say, chuckling softly.
miguel turns you around to face him, lifting you up so you’re sitting on the counter top, still not as tall as him. “youre pretty” he says softly, moving hair from your face.
“oh my gosh! you just reminded me— i need to change” you laugh, kissing his lips gently before jumping down from the counter.
“ohhh- the big surprise” he says, with dramatic wide eyes. you had been planning your outfit for forever, you told everyone it was semi formal dress, since you wanted to take photos, but you hadn’t shown miguel what you were wearing.
“yes- ill be back in ten” you say, miguel pouts. “wait i wanna come” he says, grabbing your hands to stop you from walking away. “you can’t baby- its a surprise” you remind him. he just frowns.
you giggle, causing his heart to flutter, “set the table for me and by the time you’re done, ill be down okay?” you say softly, he nods.
soon enough the table is set, and your admiring your outfit in the mirror, a white little sundress, with little baby blue flowers all over it, your hair is tied up in a mid ponytail, you were fixing your makeup when you hear miguel knocking at the door. “baby- im done” he says, whining.
“you can come in miggy” you say, standing up, to face the door as you wait for him to come in.
miguels jaw dropped when he laid eyes on you, you looked like hevean on earth, baby hairs sticking down, to frame your face, the lipbalm on your lips leaving a glossy effect. “lets cancel” he says, with a smile as he approaches you.
you frown- “what- no miggy” you say softly. he shakes his head, placing his hands on either side of your hips. “youre like- an angel baby” he say, looking down at your outfit again.
“you’re so perfect” he mutters, kissing you softly, pulling you closer to him. you smile into the kiss, “come on mig, get changed, we have an hour before people are here and i have to set up outside” you say softly.
“ill do it” he says, taking his shirt off as he pulls out- a nicer shirt, a black button up but in good old miguel style, he leaves the first two buttons undone. “its alright, i have an idea in my mind” you say.
miguel adored everything about you, but mostly how you knew what you wanted, from food, to an outfit, to a room design, everything you had a clear picture in your mind, and he loved it.
he smiles at you. fixing his hair in the mirror, “mig- your hair looks perfect” you say, grabbing his hand. “if you keep doing that you’re going to end up not liking it” you say softly.
miguel also loves how much you know him.
soon enough, outside is set up exactly how you wanted, everything is cooking just like it should be and people begin to arrive.
peter and mayday arrive first, mayday squeals of excitement when she sees you, you were so obviously her favourite.
“oh hi baby!” you say, taking her out of peters hands, “wanna help me cook?” you ask softly, kissing all over her face. “hey to you too” peter laughs softly.
“hi pete!” you smile, hugging him. “miggy is outside setting up the bar area” you say. “he isn’t following you around like a puppy? thats new” peter jokes as he walks outside to see miguel.
mary jane walks in a few minutes after. “sorry- had to pick up some stuff, im here now though!” she says with a smile, hugging you tightly, “hi gorgeous” you reply, with a wide smile.
“peter and miguel are outside, me and may may are cooking” you say, wiggling your eyebrows you make mayday giggle.
“awesome, ill go say hi and ill be right back” she says with a smile.
then more and more people show up, gwen, miles, jess, lyla, its a full house.
miguel comes in side, right as your filling large plates and placing them on the table, mayday in your arms. “might have to make you a mom” he mutters, kissing your forehead as he takes a plate from your hand to place down. “might have to” you replied with a big smile.
everyone is outside now it was a beautiful day, sitting at the table talking and laughing as you play mayday in her highchair, obviously you cut everything up really small for her.
“let me know how everything tastes” you say, as everyone begins to plate their food, you wait until everyone else has gone first, its just your nature.
miguel however, takes your plate and begins filling it with your favourite foods. “miggy” you say softly, he shakes his head as he places your now full plate down, moving onto your own.
“baby you made all of this, shouldn’t have to wait” he says, quietly, kissing your cheek.
“pussy whipped” peter says, to miles.
“sooooo pussy whipped”
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rhaenella · 4 months
Text
CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.7
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pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader
genre: social media au
summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain
face claim: léon
a/n: the finale... once again, all songs mentioned are either by taylor swift or léon. happy reading x
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part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
masterlist
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Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 1,292,849 others
y/n: End & New Beginnings. ONE WEEK.
✨Is It Over Now?~Say Don’t Go~Bigger Than The Whole Sky~You’re Losing Me~Now That We Don’t Talk~Pretty Boy✨
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user55: y/n’s latest masterpiece is incoming!!
user56: YES GIRL LETS GO
user57: omg finally 😱
user58: can’t fucking wait 💛
user59: babe are you realizing you’re releasing on friday the 13th 💀
user56: y/n is like “i’ve conquered all this year’s bad luck already, no one can stop me”
6 October
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Liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 1,450,288 others
y/n: It feels like it’s been a long time coming and now it’s here, my new EP ‘End & New Beginnings’ 🤍 Been a few sleepless nights making this to be honest. Ups and downs like always. But now I’m just so happy to let go of it and let you have it, and hopefully you’ll embrace it and make it yours. 
To the incredible people who’ve been a part of this record, THANK YOU! Couldn’t have done it without you… 
Here’s to the end & new beginnings 🕊️
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taylorswift: Perfection 🥰✨🎼😍💋
y/n: ❤️❤️❤️
danielricciardo: ART.
Liked by y/n
lilymhe: Beautiful work sweetie, I can’t with how talented you are 🥹 You made me cry the entire 23 mins (and then again cuz it was on repeat)
y/n: Awww, thank you love 🥰 and I’m sorryyyy 🙊
alex_albon: It’s so so good! I didn’t cry tho…
lilymhe: Liar
Liked by y/n
landonorris: Wow 💕
Liked by y/n
yourbestfriend: You’ve outdone yourself once again, darling, love you
y/n: I love you more baby
user60: as someone who’s just gone through a terrible breakup too, i cannot express how comforting it is to hear these songs and realize i’m not alone
Liked by y/n
13 October
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You let your phone drop to the bathroom counter, blinking slowly, unable to fathom the conversation that had just taken place. Had he really just said those things? Scrolling through the texts confirmed that yes, he had indeed. The bastard.
Charles had always been the jealous type. But attacking you like that when he had been the one to… It was absolutely ridiculous. Apparently he still couldn’t—or wouldn’t—grasp the depths of how much he had actually hurt you.
You’d loved him with all of your heart. Until he had ripped it out and hurled it to the floor, letting it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Yet, even then, you would’ve forgiven him. If only he’d apologised. If only he’d shown true remorse. But he hadn’t. And so you’d been forced to walk the path of mending your own heart, and move on with your life.
Perhaps a small part of you had hoped that he could be happy for you. That somehow, even after everything, you would be able to greet each other normally—that you could coexist peacefully. But as his texts just now had demonstrated, that wasn’t going to happen. Not right now. And definitely not next week in Texas. You sighed. It would’ve been too good to be true, anyway. Especially considering who you were currently seeing…
A light knock sounded at the door, startling you out of those thoughts. 
“Are you almost ready to go, darling?” a male voice asked, soft.
Right. Dinner. Celebrations. 
You had been in the midst of applying the finishing touches to your makeup and outfit before Charles had interrupted, quite literally shocking you to the core when his name had appeared on your lock screen. He’d been the last person you’d expected to hear from today.
You swallowed the bitter taste that Charles’ texts had managed to leave behind. He wasn’t worth it, you repeated to yourself. You weren’t going to let his shenanigans ruin a perfect night—a perfect date. You ran a hand through your hair and readjusted the necklace around your neck when the bathroom door creaked open behind you. 
Looking up, your eyes met your handsome, new boyfriend’s through the mirror. He was smiling, eyebrows raised in silent question, ever patient as he waited for you to finish up. You felt your pulse quicken at the sight of him, dressed to perfection in a dark suit, hair neatly tousled.
As always, his presence was able to reassure you within the blink of an eye, the tense muscles in your neck and shoulders relaxing as you gladly let all of your complex emotions fall away.
“Yes,” you nodded, a genuine smile spreading across your lips. “I’m ready.”
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THE END
but who is she with? well, there’s a little (and not so subtle) easter egg that refers back to the beginning of part 6 that will confirm certain things… have you spotted it?
thank you everyone for coming along on this ride! it’s been a hell of a lot of fun writing and creating this story 🥰 my apologies to all the y/n x charles shippers out there, but as our songbird said: here’s to the end and new beginnings…
Now, if you'd like, please cast your votes below :)
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Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso @dessxoxsworld @treehouse-mouse @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @clown-fc @stopeatread @vanishingcherry @bb-swift @leclercdream @scenesofobx @kagatinkita @allywthsr @evieepepi08 @viennakarma @riverjane-d @httpjeonlicious @madnesstaking0ver @futurecorps3 @celesteblack08 @sadg3 @simxican @glow-ish @spideybv28 @laneyspaulding19 @tswizzleismother @slytherinfolk25 @merchelsea @1655clean @urgirlnextdoorr @cixrosie @lightdragonrayne @lxclerc @hopexcroc @nichmeddar @imthebadguyyy
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queenjulia11 · 7 months
Text
As I’m sure you’ve all (unfortunately) heard by now, Ben goddamn motherfucking Shapiro is producing a conservative Bluey knock-off called Chip Chilla, about a homeschooling family of chinchillas — starring Rob goddamn motherfucking Schneider — and I need to talk about it.
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Done throwing up yet? Cool.
This is obviously disgusting for several reasons but the thing that infuriates me the most is that the dad in this rip-off is largely absent in his kids lives and development and finds them annoying. One of the great things about Bluey is how deeply the parents (ESPECIALLY Bandit) love their kids even when they can get on their nerves or aren’t as easy to manage.
I reject the notion that playing with and loving your children is weak and lame. Bluey is revolutionary in that it dives headfirst into love for one’s family and being un afraid to express it. That’s one of the most badass and radical things that can be shown in media regardless of the age demographic, especially with the stereotype of moms being caretakers and dads finding ways to shut their kids up while the game is on.
You think you’re cool for not caring about love? You think you’re breaking new ground for not listening to your kids and caring deeply about their interests?
The problem is that Bluey is a show for families, and this pile of shit excuse of an animated series is a show for parents. Because they’re scared of educating their children to be radical with love — because what if they end up loving “the wrong people?”
These people don’t want to raise kind, compassionate and and curious humans — they want carbon copies of themselves. Congratulations, you’ve completely missed the point of parenting. Have fun at the retirement home! Repression and censorship is just delaying the inevitable. It’s love that makes people. How dare you throw it away like it’s nothing.
What’s even weirder is I feel like Bluey doesn’t even have that much about it that would make conservatives raise their eyebrows? There’s no obvious political or religious agenda in any direction, there aren’t any canon queer characters yet — none of the things in modern kids’ TV that would make a right-wing dumbass clutch their pearls and say “I could never show my innocent children something so depraved!”
It’s just. A happy family. Living their lives. Loving each other. How fucking weird and sad do you have to be to look at that and be like “hmm, no, this is not the message I want my kids to come away with.”
Anyway I know I’m probably preaching to the choir, but go watch Bluey. Go watch something made by people who care.
Edit: Thank you @potato-head-kids for providing the image description.
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