#spark is a little unhinged about this one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

falling-endlessly · 3 months

Text

Boomerang (part 3)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Your infuriating ex is planning something, and it's putting everyone on edge. But if he wants at the hotel, he'll have to go through you (and Alastor) first.

<— Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

—6 HOURS AGO—

"What," Valentino growled, claws creating cracks in the table from how hard he was gripping it. "The fuck did you just say?"

Velvette was no better. Her lip was pulled into a furious snarl, and for once her phone was nowhere to be seen. "Vox, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Vox reclined in his chair, raising a brow at his murderous business partners. Velvette's eye twitched and the table creaked in protest under Valentino's fury. "I'm not actually going for redemption, damn, calm your tits people."

"What happened to keeping up an image for the brand?" Velvette banged a fist against her armrest, gritting her teeth. "The Morningstar bitch was literally humiliated on live television, and now you're going to personally advertise for her?!"

"The next extermination is coming sooner than ever, and people are getting desperate. This little publicity stunt can work in our favor," Vox crossed his claws under his chin, megawatt smile growing. "What's a little pity pitch going to hurt? Think about it, I can gather intel, fuck up Alastor's little project, and show Y/n where her allegiances should lie. Win-win-win," he chuckled ominously.

"Cut the shit, Vox," Valentino scoffed, leaning forward to sneer in his face. "It's obvious you're only going this far for that bitch. Can't keep a leash on your toys, hm?"

Vox grit his teeth, digging his claws into his thighs under the table. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but to be talked down to by someone who was benefiting from him? "So what if I am?" He hid his rage with a large, mocking grin. "And by the way, where's Angel Dust? Haven't seen him around in a while."

Val's face twisted with rage. "You fucking—"

"Enough!" Velvette snapped, glaring at both of them. "I don't have time for this stupid shit. Get on with it or this meeting is over."

Vox's unhinged smile slowly relaxed into his charming PR one. "Of course, my apologies Velvette, Val. I can see why you're not...convinced yet. Let me fix that."

The projector on the wall suddenly sparked to life, displaying three pie charts and a legend with many colorful categories. He gestured to them from left to right. "This is a distribution of our profits from ten years ago, five years ago, and last year."

"We have eyes," Velvette droned boredly.

Vox's antennae sparked in irritation, but he continued regardless. "Y/n's helped develop countless programs and softwares, and with her expertise our earnings jumped thirty seven percent, especially during the collaboration between Voxtek and DeepSpace VR. Now, what happens now that she's taken her business elsewhere? Hell knows she has the computing power to run it without our servers—"

"So, we're supposed to just bend over backwards for a few bucks?" Valentino snarled, crossing his arms.

Vox's screen glitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Thirty seven percent was not just a few bucks. But he knew antagonizing Val right now was more trouble than it was worth. "Val," he chuckled, sauntering forward to rest a hand on the backrest of Valentino's chair, leaning into his space. "Since when have you said no to money?" His eye widened, rings spinning.

"Since it walked out on two legs and ignored us," Valentino snorted.

"Val, I need you to see the bigger picture!" He grasped both of Valentino's shoulders, moving behind him so he could speak enticingly into his ear. "This is an opportunity to keep our brand at the top, and get dirt on that radio bitch. The future is what matters, and we are going to be the ones pioneering it."

The projector flickered to one of the surveillance cameras pointed at an exterior angle of the hotel. Then, the image suddenly rippled to show an artificial video of the same property, but instead of the tacky hotel, there stood a modern building adorned with a bright, neon V logo.

Valentino's smile grew at his last sentence, and he turned in his seat, leaning his forehead to rest against Vox's screen. "I like your vision, Cariño," he purred, grinning wickedly to show off his golden tooth. "But, if your little money-making cocksleeve doesn't come back, well, don't say I didn't tell you so~" he said in a sing-song voice, long tongue coming up to lick languidly along the side of Vox's monitor.

Vox's grin froze on his face, screen glitching.

Valentino chuckled, pushing out of his seat before strutting away. "Oh, and Vox baby," he threw a saucy wink over his shoulder. "Come find me when you get lonely, yeah?"

The double doors slammed shut behind him, bathing the room in silence. Which Velvette quickly broke, of course.

"What the fuck, Vox?" She scrubbed a hand down her face. "All this for a profit we can afford to lose? Really?"

"Velvette," his smile twitched up to full, blinding attention again. "Have I ever let you down before? Everything is under control, trust me!"

"Uh huh," Velvette scowled, unconvinced. "You know, Alastor and Y/n are the only people you've ever really lost it for, and you're going to a place where there's both of them."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" His smile strained.

Velvette shook her head, standing up from her chair and approaching him. "You know, that PR shit might work on everyone else, but I can see through your bullshit, Vox," she gave him a hard stare. "Just don't fuck everything up, got it? Or I'll make you wish you didn't."

His fists clenched as she walked past him, smile dropping into a scowl as soon as she was out of view.

****

—PRESENT—

"Whatever you do, make sure he's at least ten floors away from me," you muttered to Vaggie, watching as Charlie gave the bane of your existence an awkward tour of the hotel.

The atmosphere was so tense and suffocating, it was starting to make you incredibly antsy. The others were no better. Angel was drumming his fingers anxiously on the bar counter, Niffty was curiously regarding the new "resident" and Husk was already chugging his second bottle of hard liquor. Holy hell, and you couldn't even forget about Alastor if you tried, the radio demon releasing a constant stream of static and looking about ready to sacrifice someone—preferably Vox—in an incredibly painful and sadistic ritual.

"I can't believe she's letting him stay," Angel hissed under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Actually no, what am I saying? This is Charlie, of course she'd let him stay. God damnit."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, only to find your favorite stiff drink on the counter behind you. You nodded gratefully at Husk, taking the glass and throwing it back like water.

"At least the hotel's in one piece!" Niffty chirped, her one eye back to tracking any stray insects. "Less mess to clean up." Her knife gleamed as she stabbed a cockroach clean in half with a deranged giggle.

"This isn't going to end well," Vaggie scowled darkly. "He's going to try something, I fucking know it."

"Yeah, no shit," Angel groaned, Husk grunting in agreement.

"Or," Pentious chimed in, hair flaring thoughtfully. "He truly does want to redeem himself?"

There was a silence as everyone turned to look at him incredulously, before a unanimous, resounding "no," rang out.

****

"Anddd here's your room key," Charlie presented it to him with a flourish, beaming brightly. "We hope you enjoy your stay! Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the dinning room, or you can go out and get your own food! We'll get your survey ready for you tomorrow so that you can start building your schedule."

"Schedule?" He quirked a brow, taking the room key from her outstretched hand. "For what, exactly?"

"Oh! Um," Charlie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We actually host group therapy activities and trust exercises with the other staff and residents! You'll fill out a short survey so that we can personalize—"

"O-kay, let me stop you there, sweetheart," he chuckled, grin widening condescendingly. "I think it's great what you're doing, really, I do. But I've already got a schedule, and a billion dollar company to run. I'm quite the busy man, you know?"

Charlie furrowed her brow. "But—"

"Seriously, my sales would fall and what would my clients say? Hm?" A crowd booing track played in the background as Vox shook his head like she was just some uneducated child. "So thanks, but no thanks." He shot her a wink, before the door slammed in her face.

Charlie blinked in shock, taking a few seconds to process that she'd been dismissed in her own hotel. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged away.

But that only lasted for a few steps, before she perked right back up. What was she thinking? Giving up so quickly on one of her clients?

Charlie grinned, smacking a fist into her palm. She'd just have to try harder.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Your jaw clenched, claws digging into the drywall.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head in disdain.

****

As soon as the door shut, Vox deflated like a balloon.

"Fuckkk," he hissed under his breath, sliding down the door tiredly. "The hell am I doing?"

He allowed himself only a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, before he sighed, pushing off the floor and getting to work. In less than twenty minutes, he had the whole room wired to his needs, electronic Voxtek devices littering the previously empty spaces. Now he had a way to travel without leaving his room.

He was just about to dematerialize into one of his laptops when a familiar, chilling presence made him freeze.

"Why, you only just got here! Don't tell me you're leaving already," Alastor chuckled, tilting his head in mock concern.

The radio demon was leaning an elbow against his dresser, just casually invading his privacy. God, just his smug face made Vox want to kill him already.

"What's it to you, old timer?" Vox sneered, electricity sparking from his claws in agitation. "Unlike you, some of us actually have responsibilities. So if you don't mind—"

"Oh my, breaking your word to Y/n already!" Alastor shook his head with a grin, sound effects of a heckling crowd emanating from his microphone cane. "How very...disappointing. Truly, I'd expect better from you!"

Vox's eye widened, the swirling rings on full display as his teeth grinded in rage. "Y-y-y-you keep her fucking name out of your filthy, cannibalistic mouth! You hear me?" He glitched furiously, electricity sparking in glowing webs from his monitor.

"Aha! Someone's a little on edge," Alastor laughed in tandem with an artificial, mocking laugh track. "Really, that was too easy! You're losing your touch."

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Vox snapped.

"Gladly," the radio demon grinned menacingly, the corners of his mouth stretching to unnatural proportions. "But first, I came to deliver a little message."

Vox gritted his teeth, curling his fists by his sides. His electricity buzzed under his skin, ready to electrocute the fuck out of this crazy fucker if he needed to.

"If you and your merry band of idiots pull even the smallest stunt to sabotage the hotel," Alastor approached him, antlers growing as his eyes turned to radio dials. "I think you'll find out that absence did not make my heart grow fonder."

"What, don't tell me you actually care about this place," Vox grinned, baring his teeth. "The whole redemption thing doesn't really seem to be up your alley, no offense."

"Oh, of course not! Haha! Don't be ridiculous," Alastor chuckled like he'd said something hilarious, but it was overlayed with bursts of radio static. "But I'm afraid I've invested too much in this source of entertainment for you to ruin it with your cheap, unoriginal touch."

The message was clear: don't touch my things.

Vox curled his lip, unwilling to back down no matter how utterly disturbing Alastor's demon form was up close. It gave him chilling flashbacks of their last explosive disagreement. "Then stay away from Y/n," he spat.

Alastor's grin widened, eyes glowing an eerie green as he held out his hand. "Is that a deal?"

Vox grimaced, looking at Alastor's creepy, voodoo doll appearance. "Hell no, you creepy fucker."

Then, like whiplash, Alastor's demon form receded and the air became breathable again. "Well, glad we cleared that up, then!" He laughed exuberantly, twirling his cane. "Nice catching up, chum!"

The demon grinned as he disappeared into shadowy wisps of smoke, melding with the darkness against the walls.

Vox's jaw clenched, electric anger vibrating through him and rattling his teeth. "Fuck!" He kicked over the first thing he saw, which happened to be a wooden workbench. It took a few deep breaths for him to finally calm down and collect his thoughts.

When he was no longer at risk of causing a city-wide outage again (that had been fucking embarrassing), he made his way back to his laptop like he was originally planning to do, only to pause in shock when he saw the brand new device short circuiting, screen full of pixelated static.

An explosive rage convulsed in his chest, the lights in the hotel flickering ominously.

"You red bambi ass fucker!"

****

<—Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111

882 notes · View notes

thechaoticdruid · 3 months

Text

[We'll Protect Each Other]

Paring: F!Tav x Astarion

Plot: While staying at an inn in the Underdark an unfortunate chain of events forces Tav and Astarion to protect one another.

Content Warnings: Fiercely protective Tav, Tav uses She/Her pronouns, Tav is kinda feral and unhinged, blood, gore, threats of/ literal genital trauma, we are going game of thrones up in this bitch, sexual harassment, brief allusions to Astarion's trauma, violence, so much fucking violence, death, Tav is heavily based on my own Tav Winnie. Oh and a little fluff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tav hummed as she sat at the tavern table, glancing down upon the suspicious letter she'd received last night.

‘I'll see you soon, True Soul.’

Been a while since she was called that, almost everyone who had referred to her as a ‘true soul’ was dead now so being addressed as such was rather peculiar, but at the same time not completely unwelcome. Tav smirked slightly, the idea of a new foe to face sparked excitement. It had been so long since the human druid had a good fight. Since the defeat of the Elder Brain she'd been staying in the Underdark, looking after a horde of hungry vampire spawn. Her days weren't uneventful in the slightest, but gods did she miss adventuring.

Tav's lover was over at the bar getting the two something to drink. Since the Underdark has become home to seven thousand life-challenged individuals this particular inn had made preparations to feed them should any appear at the establishment. He tapped his claws on the table, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing up their beverages as an uneasy feeling coursed through his body. Astarion had felt unfamiliar eyes on him since he'd left to get him and his beloved some refreshments. His blood red eyes darted back and scanned the tavern. Tav was still waiting at their table and mostly all the other patrons there happened to be deep gnomes, all who seemed much more concerned with friendly banter. But then he spotted someone off in the corner. A tall half-orc whose eyes seemed trained on him. Astarion wasn't exactly sure how he didn't spot the big oaf sooner, usually he was far more perceptive than this, but perhaps his hunger had him quite distracted. The elven vampire tapped on the bar table impatiently wondering exactly what was taking the bartender so long.

Eventually the half-drow barmaid brought over the drinks.

“Sorry for the wait.” She said softly, “not used to preparing food for our night time visitors.” The half-elf handed him a cold mug of dessert wine and a warm mug of ethically precured lifeblood.

Astarion took the drinks before turning and making his way back. The half-orc then made his move, walking straight towards him.

“Have a drink with me, handsome?” The half-orc gave a flirtatious smile, making the elf internally sigh in annoyance.

“No, I think not. My partner is waiting for me, you see.” Astarion gave a forced smile before attempting to make his way back to Tav. A large green hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Come on! Surely you're not talking about the little rat’s nest of hair? Sweetheart, I could show you things that little human wench couldn't even dream of-”

The elf quickly slapped his hand away.

“Oh, I highly doubt you could show me anything I haven't already done myself. Now bugger off.” Astarion growled out the last part, barring his fangs at the orc before stomping off.

Tav glanced up as Astarion took a seat next to her. He had a look of discomfort on his face, but quickly bushed it off as he noticed her attention on him. “I'm back, my sweet.” Astarion smiled at Tav, setting their drinks down before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“You okay, doll? You seem uncomfortable.” Tav put her hand on his shoulder only to receive a small smile as his hand covered her own.

“I'm fine, love. Just a little annoyed by the wait is all.” Astarion squeezed her hand gently, not wanting her to worry.

“Okay….” Tav said before looked back down at the letter, taking a sip from the wine Astarion had brought her.

“What's that?” Astarion asked, sliding an arm over her shoulders before taking a sip from his own mug and internally sighing.

Rothé blood….

“Just an ominous threatening letter left by gods know who.” Tav said casually, nearly making Astarion spit out his blood.

“Ah darling, perhaps you should be a just little more concerned about this?”

“I'm not afraid. Let them come get me! I've been itching for a good fight for ages!” Tav clenched her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face.

“Oh Tav, you know what that bloodlust look does to me.~” Astarion flirted leaning closer against his love. “But maybe we should be at least a bit more careful?”

“We’ve dealt with plenty of baddies before, Star. It’ll be fine!” Tav insisted.

“Need I remind you that there are only two of us now since the others have all gone their separate ways.” Astarion sighed, “I just worry for you, my dear.”

“I know babe.” Tav planted a kiss on his cheek affectionately before saying,”I'll tell you what, once we get everything sorted out with the other spawn we'll recruit some new traveling companions and go after that ring of the sunwalker thing I heard about.” This brought a smile to the vampire’s lips.

Large footsteps were heard stomping over to the table. Astarion glanced up seeing the half-orc from before approaching them.

“Sorry about my behavior before sweetness. I've just never seen such a breathtaking looking creature such as yourself. So, how about you ditch the runt and i'll take you somewhere we can get you something better to drink…. Perhaps someone?~”

“Are you daft? I told you to bugger off!” Astarion snarled, glaring daggers at the large male. Astarion kept his arm around Tav in a protective manner, but it was more so for his own comfort truth be told. The half-orc was really making him uneasy. Tav could feel Astarion shake a little.

“Hey, no need to be like that, I just want a piece of that tight little elven as-” The half-orc was suddenly silenced by a scimitar pressed dangerously close to his groin.

“You really don't want to finish that sentence, big guy.” Tav said calmly, not even looking up at the green bastard. “You know I’ve been really itching to slit someone's throat lately, but you….I think I might have fun with you…” She said before finally turning her head towards him, a sadistic grin spread across her lips.

“Y-You better watch yourself y-you little b-b-bitch!” He whined out the last part feeling Tav press her blade harder against his clothed crotch.

“Oh I like this!” Tav breathed out, voice unhinged and full of bloodlust as the half-orc began to shake in terror. “A big stupid creep thinks he can push me around just because I'm small…It's almost cute how pathetic you are. I should cut you open and show everyone what you really are inside. A gutless coward!” Tav stared at him intensely. The wicked grin spread across her lips didn't falter even for a second, until eventually she sighed.

“But it'd be rude to get blood all over Lyn’s nice clean floors.” Tav said, speaking of the half-drow bartender. “So you're going to leave now and never come near my lover again, or I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat. Understand?” Tav spat, nearly stabbing the blade of her scimitar through the orc’s pants.

“Y-Yes m-ma’m!” The half-orc said in a high pitch tone.

“Good boy.” Tav pulled her blade back, “now get the fuck out of my sight.” She growled, causing the green creep to turn and make a run for it, slamming the door on his way out of the tavern. All the gnomes had seemed to halt their chatter and look over to the two lovers.

“Tav…” Astarion muttered in an irritated tone, “I didn't need you to defend me! I had that completely under control!” He fussed, clearly embarrassed because of the scene Tav had caused.

“I'm sure you did sweetie, but you can't just expect me to sit by and do nothing when some pervert keeps treating you like a piece of meat.” Tav said calmly.

“Darling that orc was huge! What if you hadn't been quick enough!? What if he comes back!?”

“Honey, I can literally turn into an owlbear.” Tav rolled her eyes. “I know you’re capable of kicking ass, Star. I have no doubt about that. But I don’t protect you because I think you're weak. I do it because I love you.” Tav said sweetly, placing her hand against his cheek. “And sometimes it's okay to need someone to protect you…” She looked down at his trembling hands. Fear began to stir in her gut, worried that he might have been triggered by the situation. Astarion simply place his hand over hers and relaxed into her touch.

“I know. I love you too…It's just…I want to be able to protect the both of us…” Astarion glanced off to the side.

“You can! Babe, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for! You practically carried our team the entire time we were worm brained!” Tav placed a second hand on the other side of his face. Astarion rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

“Gods Tav, you're such a bad liar.”

“I'm not lying!” Tav chuckled, “I'm pretty sure you have more kills than the rest of us combined! You're so stealthily and quick! The fuckers never saw it coming!”

“Well perhaps I could be willing to allow you to win this little debate. Granted you continue to list off all of my many talents, or you can just call me beautiful and we can head upstairs for the evening?”

“You're beyond beautiful, my Star.” Tav purred.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The night was quiet as Tav and Astarion rested on the top floor of the Inn. Both of them snug in their bed. Astarion always had a tendency to curl around Tav as she slept and he tranced. However, tonight Tav lay there, eyes wide open. Her mind for some reason wandering off to a memory brought on by today's events.

“I assume he belongs to you.” The drow’s eyes leered over Astarion lustfully as she spoke about his as if he was nothing but cattle.

“Excuse me? I don't appreciate you talking about my friend like he's a fucking piece of property.” Tav snapped, stepping in front of her companion protectively. Of course she'd see him that way. The drow treat all their men like cattle. The fact didn't make Tav any less insulted.

“Now now. No need to speak like that. I only wish to make a trade.” The drow said calmly, however her stare seemed to harden a little. “What is your name, spawn?”

“It’s Astarion but hold on!” Astarion put his hands up as if to keep some distance between him the drow.

“Astarion, I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a little girl.” She purred. Tav shot the drow a look which she ignored, red eyes locked on Astarion’s mouth.

“Let me get this straight, you want to be bitten?” Astarion asked, a look of confusion and disgust filled his face. Normally he would jump at a chance to sink his teeth into a willing person, hells part of him wanted to drain this bitch dry because of how she talked about him, but this drow pretty as she was her blood smelled worse than death itself! Just being in her presence was enough to make him want to gag!

“To feel my life’s essence slipping away, to dance on the edge of death, yes I want it.” She said, nearly swooning. “I'll even compensate you. A potion of legendary power. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me.”

“I will have to decline.” Astarion said immediately.

“Excuse me? This is a once and a lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it!”

“I gave you my answer!” Astarion spat. The drow woman ignored him and immediately turned to Tav.

“Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge!?” She demanded.

“He said no. The hells do you not understand?” The druid snapped.

Gods, Tav couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Araj the drow blood merchant. This incident today reminded her far too much of it. Except this time it might have been worse. The fucking orc actually tried to put his hands on him.

Tav furrowed her eyebrows and glanced back over to Astarion’s peaceful looking face. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, but the situation was different. These sorts of things really got to him. Tav ran her fingers gently through his hair. She needed to keep safe no matter what. Sleep took Tav eventually and she snuggled into her vampire’s embrace, enjoying the coolness of his skin. And for a while the two were at peace, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows.

It was probably about midnight when Tav woke up. She whimpered and felt around the bed for her lover, only feeling emptiness in his place.

“Astarion?” Her eyes slowly blinked open and Tav sat up. She glanced around the room discovering the vampiric elf was nowhere in sight. She tried to rationalize that Astarion was probably just up and around since he didn't need as much rest as she did, but Tav couldn't help but feel anxiety creep its way into the back of her mind. She got to her feet before slowly feeling a dagger be pressed against her throat.

“Nice to see you again, true soul…” A familiar feminine voice spoke softly in Tav's ear, causing her to grit her teeth as she looked back.

“Araj? The hells are you doing all the way out here?” Tav sneered.

“I needed to see you again. I require your help.”

“I told you before, you aren't getting any more of my blood and if you even think of bringing up Astarion so help me-”

“This isn't about him, darling. This is about you. I am on the verge of something extraordinary, but I need one key ingredient. Your heart.” Araj slowly dragged the knife down her throat and down between her breasts.

Tav rolled her eyes before chuckling.

“Sweet, but you know I'm spoken for.” In a swift motion the druid slammed her foot down on the drow's own before grasping hold of her wrist and forcing the blade away from her body.

“You idiots! Get in here and help me!” Araj suddenly shouted, prompting the door to open, revealed two half-orc male’s and a female.

With them was Astarion bound with silver chains wrapped around his body. Cloth was tied around his mouth, preventing him from speaking, but Tav could very clearly hear him whimpering in pain. The silver was burning his skin!

“Now cooperate or else! I'll make sure our darling bloodsuck-” Tav didn't even give the drow a moment to speak any further before knocking the blade from her hand and slamming her fist into her face with enough force to knock Araj to the floor. Araj hit the ground with a thud, seemingly knocked unconscious from the blow. The druid’s eyes quickly went back to Astarion who was struggling and letting out muffled cries of pain, but despite this he looked far more pissed off than afraid. That didn't calm the rage that was stirring deep inside Tav however, and the fact that the same gods damned perverted orc from before was holding onto Astarion's silver chains just pushed her over the edge.

Without even thinking Tav dropped to the ground transforming into a huge direwolf before letting out a deep bloodthirsty snarl and lunging right for the familiar half orc. Her jaws sank right into his groin, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream.

“Bloody hells! Get that thing off of him!” The female half-orc shouted.

“But the vampire!?” The other male orc replied.

“He's tied up you dumb fuck!” She shouted before turning to attack Tav. Tav yanked her head back hard, tearing a chunk out of the half-orc’s flesh and trousers. The half orc continued to scream as Tav spat his unmentionables out before he tumbled over and began to bleed out on the floor.

“That crazy drow bitch better pay us good for this.” The remaining male half-orc muttered before charging at Tav alongside the female.

Tav quickly dove under his legs before bucking him to the ground with her back and darting right for Astarion. Astarion shook his head as his wildshaped lover approached him with a doglike whine and sunk her teeth into his chains, trying to he them off him. She was only able to allow one of his arms to slip free. Astarion quickly tore the cloth around his head.

“For gods' sake Tav! Look out!” He shouted, before suddenly the female half-orc slammed into Tav from behind, wrapping her arms around her in a headlock.

“I've got her! I've got her!” The female orc shouted. Tav growled loudly before turning round and sinking her teeth into the orc female’s shoulder. In the struggle the two ended up tumbling down the stairs and out the front door of the tavern. The half-orc male was about to run off after his female companion when suddenly he noticed Astarion had somehow slipped free from his bindings. The vampire’s skin was quickly healing from the burns left from the silver, and his eyes almost appeared to be glowing red. He clenched and unclenched his fists revealing sharp claw-like fingernails and the next thing the half-orc knew were icy fangs piercing his throat.

Outside the tavern, Tav and the female orc were still going at it. The half orc threw a punch to Tav's head knocking her back before she took out a blade and took a stab at the direwolf only for Tav to dart out of the way at the last second and take a bit at the orc woman’s leg.

“You godsdamn mutt!” She yelled, kicking Tav in the face before plugging her blade into her back.

Tav howled in pain and backed up, blood trickling down her back and staining her fur. She let out a pained whimper as she looked up at the half-orc.

The she-orc smirked triumphantly.

“Not so high and mighty now are you, druid?” She huffed starring Tav right in the eyes. Without another word Tav lunged at the orc with a monstrous growl, sinking her jaws into the green female's head.

“GODS DAMNIT!!” The half-orc screamed. Tav sunk her claws into her shoulders as she stood up on her hind legs and dug her teeth into the orc's skull. Then with a harsh whip of her head Tav snapped her opponent’s neck. The druid then released the orc, letting her drop to the ground.

Tav dropped back down on all fours with a sigh, panting a little from the fight. She turned her head and yanked the blade from her back. Luckily in this form she wouldn't actually be harmed. But she was honestly feeling far too tired to stay in her wildshape now. Slowly she transformed back, taking a moment to regain her strength.

“A-Astarion…I-I need to get back to Astarion…” Tav told herself.

“I'm afraid you won't be seeing him again.” Araj suddenly stepped out from the shadows, blade in hand. “I am not leaving without your heart!” She hissed.

“Oh for fucks sake! Don't you ever get tired of being a psycho!?” Tav hissed, she quickly reached for her weapon, but this time Araj was quicker. She stabbed her blade into Tav's leg making her freeze.

“What….W-What is this!?” Tav sputtered, suddenly feeling her limbs begin to tingle and go numb. She tried to move, but her body just felt so heavy.

“A paralysis potion I've been keeping for a rainy day. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I have no idea what affects it will have on your heart unfortunately, but I can't let you get away.” Araj stopped as she watched Tav whimper and squirm on the ground. The silver haired female wiped her blade clean off the potion before she then undid the buttons on Tav's shirt, exposing her chest.

“Now I'll need a nice clean cut. I don't want to damage your heart too badly.” The drow licked her lips before dragging the tip of her blade over Tav’s chest. “Just close your eyes and it'll be all over…” Tears began to form in the corners of Tav’s eyes, heart pounding so hard she was sure it’d burst right out before that damn drow bitch would even have a chance to cut into it.

“Get away from my Tav.” Astarion suddenly growled out, appearing behind Araj who quickly turned and struck at him with her blade.

“Not until I have her heart!” Araj hissed.

Astarion ducked out of the way, unsheathing his own blade and taking a swing at her. His dagger barely nicked the side of her cheek as she dodged, drawing a few drops of blood.

“Gods below, it's even more foul smelling than before!” He made a gagging sound.

“Mock me all you like! It won't stop me!” Araj took another stab at Astarion aiming right for his throat, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pushed her back towards the ground. Now that he was free of the tadpole his vampiric strength returned and it gave him an edge in battle.

“You know darling, I think I may have had a sudden change of heart. I may just bite you after all.” Astarion said, forcing a grin upon his face.

“What-” Confusion flickered over her face for a split second, immediately being followed by Astarion sinking his fangs into her neck, but instead of drinking her blood, he tore her throat right out.

Astarion immediately spat out any of her blood that had gotten into his mouth before watching her drop to the ground, a twisted smile plastered over her face. “I-Incredible….” She choked out before suddenly coughing up an alarming amount of blood.

He quickly disregarded her lifeless body and swiftly moved to Tav who was still paralyzed on the ground.

“My love, are you alright?” Astarion knelt down and cradled her head with one hand.

“I-I can't m-move….S-She got me with a paralysis poison…” Tav croaked out.

“Hang in there lover.”Astarion frowned, looking down at Tav with worry. He immediately scooped her up bridal-style. “I'm going to take you to Dalyria. She should be able to cure this.” Astarion carried Tav back into the tavern. Several of the patrons were whispering to each other. Some seemed deathly afraid of Astarion and his love. The vampire spawn simply ignored them.

“I don't think we're going to be welcome here any longer, Star.” Tav said as Astarion set her down on a sofa near the tavern fireplace.

“Forget them, darling. We're leaving anyway. Now sit tight while I grab our things.” Astarion said, kissing her forehead before quickly going upstairs to get their packs. Tav sat by the fire, she could see the barmaid Lyn giving her an awfully ugly look.

Good gods, it's not our fault we were attacked.

Tav rolled her eyes. It didn't take long for Astarion to return with their things. Tav weakly nuzzled her face into his neck as Astarion scooped her back up into his arms. Tav stared up at him with adoration as he carried her out.

“You did it, you know.” She hummed.

“What are you on about?’ Astarion glanced down at her.

“You protected me!” Tav exclaimed with a weak smile, “and thank the gods you did. I was sure I was a goner.”

“You give me far too much credit, my love. I still allowed you to get injured. You did a much better job than I.” Astarion huffed.

“You kidding? You just saved my life Astarion and this isn't even the first time.” Tav insisted. “Look, from now on no more arguing over who protects who. We protect each other and that's final.”

“You're being awfully demanding of someone who can't even move her arms, my dear.” Astarion chuckled, “but I am grateful all the same.”

He planted another kiss upon Tav's forehead before continuing on to meet up with his sister and hopefully cure his beloved’s ailment.

The two set off, leaving the tavern to deal with three battered corpses and a mysterious trail of blood…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note from TheChaoticDruid: Phew! Finally got this thing out! Honestly despite finding her a very shitty person and absolutely despising how she treats Astarion I can't help but find Araj interesting. The whole thing with blood and heck the creepy shit you find in her basement makes me want to know more about her. Kinda went a little overboard with this in terms of violence I guess, but I kinda wish there were more bg3 fics with some action in them. Also, I may have kinda ignored how silver and vampires work in DnD, but BG3 plays fast and loose with lore so I guess I will too. Hope you like it!

313 notes · View notes

pandorxxx · 1 year

Text

Crazy about you

Lo’ak (21) x omatikayan fem readef (18)

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, bondage, p in v, oral,spitting, spanking, bruising, cursing, squirting, DOM-Lo’ak.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

Now this wasn’t like any other love story; where girl gets boy and they live happily ever after. This was a story of an unhealthy obsession, and the beginning of a toxic relationship. You knew that your attraction to lo’ak was affecting you, but you just couldn’t help it. It had been this way ever since he started training you to become a warrior. The way he scolded you, yelled at you, snatched you up for being a trouble maker….it sparked a desire deep inside of your heart that couldn’t be put out until you got what you wanted. Until you got him…

These feelings were not reciprocated, however. He felt as if you were unhindered, and he knew that your obsession for him was not healthy. Not that he doesn’t like his women being obsessed, but you were….crazier, and he shied away from you because of that. At first, lo’ak thought the little crush you had on him was cute, but now it was scaring him. Scaring him to the point where he wanted nothing to do with you, ending training with you all together. So you could imagine his surprise when you still showed up for sessions.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He asked sternly, walking over to you. He grabbed you with ease, pulling you to a nearby tree so that none of the other warriors or trainers could hear.

“Training silly!” You smiled, tracing his chiseled body up and down, not being able to keep your eyes off of him. He stood up straight, looking around before leaning back down to you.

“Stop looking at me like that, little one. I already told you that I canceled training with you. Do you not remember?” He asked in a calm tone, handling your feelings with care because he knew…

He knew this good girl act that you put up was just a façade, and deep down, you could lash out at any second, and there was no telling how far you’d go.

You tilted your head, pouting up at him. “I remembered, but I thought I’d come anyway. Why don’t you want to train me anymore?” You croaked, tearing forming in your eyes

He sighed, running his hands down his face. “Y/n. Go home.” He said, melodic voice ringing through your ears like your favorite song. You smiled, gripping his arm to pull him closer. He pulled away immediately. He growled, wrapping his hand around your neck.

“GO. HOME.” He mumbled, clenching his jaw before letting you go harshly, causing you to stumble back. “I love you too, lo’ak! See you later!” you chirped, swinging from side to side.

He growled in frustration, rubbing his hands through his hair rougly. “Do NOT come to my hut later. I’m tired of kicking you out every night, bro. I need you to stay away from me. Got it?” He whispered angrily, with his hands on his hips.

Before you could answer, he walked off. Going back to train another warrior. Your eyebrows shifted in confusion, before turning back around, walking away from him.

As you trailed back to your hut, you couldn’t get over how stubborn lo’ak was being. Why was he acting like he wanted nothing to do with you? Why did he cancel training? Did he think you were crazy? Unhinged?

“Hey, y/n! Wait up!” You heard a familiar voice speak. You turned around to be met with Neteyam, jogging towards you to catch up.

“Oh, hey Neteyam.” You sighed, turing back around to walk forward. He finally caught up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I saw what happened, little one. Are you ok?” He asked in a concerned tone, looking down at your dainty figure.

“Maybe you could tell me. What is the matter with me? Why doesn’t lo’ak like me anymore?” You asked, stopping in your tracks to face Neteyam.

“Maybe he believes that you are too young for him, yeah? I mean, you just turned 18.” Neteyam chuckled, gesturing calmly.

“Tis not it, teyam! And you know it! Tell me why he doesn’t want me!” You lashed out, crossing your arms as you glared up at him. He sighed, gripping either sides of your arms in his large hands.

“Lo’ak just thinks that you may be alittle….obsessed.” Neteyam tilted his head, lifting a brow at you. “Is that true, y/n?” He nodded, already knowing that you were obsessed with lo’ak, but wanting you to admit it out loud.

“I am obsessed, but there is nothing wrong with that! I would never hurt him!” You shouted, pushing the ball of your finger into his chest.

“Maybe he’s afraid that you will?” His voice raised an octave, statement coming out more like a question. Your gaze softens at Neteyam’s words. Was that it? Lo’ak thought that you would hurt him? You would NEVER hurt him?

“Oh no! I-I dont want him to think that I would eve- I’ve gotta go talk to him!” You stuttered, walking away before Neteyam pulled you back.

“H-How about I talk to him for you? He’ll listen to me. I don’t think it’s smart for you to go back there right now. Give him some time to cool off.” Neteyam explained. Neteyam knew you were unhinged, and it was no point in adding fuel to the fire. So as lo’aks big bro, he took the heat for him.

You looked up at him with narrow eyes, scanning his face for any detection of a lie. “Tell him to meet me back here, eclipse.” Neteyam’s eyes widened. Lo’ak didn’t really listen to him on a regular day, so making him confront his stalker, in the middle of the forest? Now that was going to be a challenge.

“o-ok!” Neteyam nodded, smiling nervously. You squealed him happiness. “Thank you teyam! You don’t know how much this means to me.” You hugged him before skipping away. Leaving him in his thoughts about how in the hell he was going to get lo’ak to meet her tonight.

It was almost eclipse when Neteyam finally decided to bite the bullet, and confess to lo’ak that he got him in a…sticky situation. Neteyam hesitated walking into lo’aks hut, but he needed to talk to him.

“Umm, lo’ak?” Neteyam squinted his eyes, knocking on the, already, opened door to get his brothers attention.

“What’s up, bro.” Lo’ak looked at Neteyam breifly before putting his hair in a ponytail, getting ready for bed. Neteyam walked further in with a nervous smile.

“Uhhh, What happened with you and y/n today? She seemed upset.” Neteyam asked cautiously, leaning back on the wall. Lo’ak chuckled, shaking his head.

“Brooo.” Lo’ak sighed, turning to Neteyam with wide eyes. “That crazy little bitch can’t get enough of me. I mean, I get it, look at me!” He started, turning back to his mirror, taking his neck piece off.

“It was cute at first, because she’s kinda hot. But she’s too obsessed with me. I might wake up to her trying to kill me or something.” Lo’ak chuckled, turning back to his brother. Neteyams hope for lo’ak meeting you tonight….was dwindling, but he had a plan.

“Well! You know that they say about crazy girls.” Neteyam smirked, walking closer to lo’ak. Lo’ak nodded his head, all knowingly before plopping down on his cot, sprawled out as he looked towards the ceiling.

“Hell yeah, bro.” Lo’ak smirked, licking his lips just think about it. He quickly snapped out of it, jolting up to meet neteyams gaze. Lo’ak eyed him up and down in confusion.

“What’s going on here? Why are you asking about y/n?” He squinted his eyes. Neteyam sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Don’t be mad, but I kinda told y/n that you would met her in the forest in likeeee…..15 minutes or so.” Neteyam smiled widely, shooting lo’ak a thumbs up as he nodded his head. Lo’aks eyes almost popped out of his skull.

“WHAT THE HELL, BRO!” Lo’ak shouted, standing to his feet immediately. “I’ve told you how many times this girl has stalked me, and you set me up on a DATE with her? IN THE FOREST?…..AT NIGHT?” He yelled, gesturing angrily.

“I-I know, DAMMIT! I’m sorry! She just really wants to talk to you, lo’ak. Cant you give her that? Just a conversation? The girl is madly in love with you.” Neteyam confessed calmly, almost feeling sorry for you. You were so relentless with lo’ak, and nothing could stop it.

“You think you know y/n, but you don’t. She wants to do more than talk, and I don’t wanna go down that road with her. You think she’s crazy NOW? She’d need a straight jacket if I gave it to her.” Lo’ak explains, shaking his head before looking in the mirror again. Neteyam rolled his eyes in disgust, walking towards the door.

“Just go and talk to her. It would make her day, and you know it. Be nice for once.” Neteyam spat, stomping out of lo’aks hut. Lo’ak rolled his eyes before staring at himself in the mirror.

“I mean, what could her little ass do to me anyway? I’m not scared! Im a warrior, dammit! I TRAINED HER!” He riled himself up through the mirror. He huffed, growing angry with himself for running from you like YOU were the threat. No, HE was the threat, and you were just a crazy little girl in his eyes. He stomped out of his hut, coming to confront you like he should’ve done a while ago.

You sat on the mossy ground, looking into the sky. You thought about what you would say when he finally got here, or what he would say. All you’ve ever wanted was him, and you hated that he stepped back every time you took a step closer.

“Y/N!” You heard lo’ak shout from a distance, startling you. You whipped around, seeing him stomp towards you with vengeance.

“Get up.” He muttered through gritted teeth, snatching you off the ground by your armpits, pinning you to a nearby tree. For the first time, he genuinely scared you with his anger.

“Ouch! What did I do now?” You whined, throwing your head back on the tree. “You just can’t seem to get it through your head. I DO NOT WANT TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU!” He screamed, just inches away from your face making you flench with every syllable. You looked up at him, plastering that crazy smile of yours across your face.

“Oh, but lo‘ak! If you’d just give me a chance, I’d think we’d be perfect for eachother.” You confessed in your sweet, innocent voice as you rubbed his arm. He shook his head with a quick chuckle of utter disbelief.

“No we wouldn’t! First off, im too old for you. Second off, YOURE CRAZY!” He confessed, looking down at your confused face. You tilted your head as your eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m crazy about you, baby. Don’t you get it?” You asked, bringing him closer by the band of his loincloth. He towered over your small frame, sighing loudly as he looked around, then back at you.

“What do you want? Huh? You want some dick? Is that it? Will that shut you up?” He asked, looking for your eye contact, but you were too fixated on his growing bulge. “Mhmm!” your ears perked up as you hummed, nodding frantically.

“If I give it to you, do you promise to leave me alone? We can be friends, but the obsession has to STOP! Do you hear me?” He replied sternly, letting you go completely. You nodded slowly, waiting for his command before you went completely feral. He put his hands on his hips, eyeing you up and down to see what to do with you first.

“Okay, so I’m guessing you’ve never done this before. I’ll take it slo-“ he was cut off by the impact of the ground. You straddled him, pinning his arms down.

“DAMN! wh-what the f- aghh! fuck a-re you doing?!?!” He stuttered, struggling to get you off of him as your insatiable habits had taken the forefront. You took your hair out of its ponytail, wrapping the string around his wrists quickly. With that, you pushed his wrists above his head, leaning down to his face.

“I give you the green light, and THIS is what you do? You couldn’t give me a minute? SHIT!” He shouted, trying to wiggle his way out of the tight string.

“I’m sorry baby, I just couldn’t wait any longer. I want you soooo bad.” You giggled, attaching your lips to his neck. You trailed up and down his jugular, planting soft kisses and lightly sucking it. His wiggling slowly came to a halt as he purred in pleasure. You reached down to his loincloth, untying it slowly. You grabbed his throbbing cock, causing him to jolt up. You moved to his lips, planting tiny kissed across them.

“u-untie me.” He growled, panting as he looked you in your eyes. “Why? So you can run off? I’ve finally got you where I want you.” You spoke lowly, trailing your kisses down to his stomach.

“No! So I can give you what you want, and we can get this OVER WITH!” He growled, muscles flexing with every strain of his voice. You ignored him completely, trailing all the way down to his aching cock. You wasted no time, immediately engulfing him in your mouth.

“Shit! y-you couldn’t give me a warning?” He asked breathlessly, watching you bob your head up and down his huge shaft. You made it sloppy, spitting down onto his cock, before taking him all in your mouth again, gagging and chocking on him.

“Damn, girl. w-who taught y- fuck! You this?” He stuttered, moaning loudly under you as he wiggled weakly. You looked up at him through your eyebrows, slowly sliding your mouth off of him, making sure to make a popping sound. You jerked his cock, as you licked his sack, engulfing it completely, still glaring at him with nothing but lust in your eyes

“Ohhhh shit! b-be gentle with that!” He threw his head back, his face screwing In pleasure. You sucked his balls slowly, juggling them in your mouth before pulling away. You sat up in between his legs, gently pulling your top and loincloth off as you maintained that lustful eye contact.

“Can I ride it, lo’ak?” You asked crawling up to his chest, positioning yourself above his cock. He wasn’t even listening to you. He was way too focused on your perfect breasts that were inches away from his face, and He couldn’t even touch them. “Huh?” He muttered, still glued on your chest. You giggled, bending down to his face. “Wanna touch ‘em?” You asked seductively, kissing his chin.

“How if you won’t untie me?” He asked in an irritated tone. You sat up again, reaching over his head to grab his wrists. You pulled them up to you, attaching his hands to your soft breasts. He immediately squeezed them, biting his lip in the process.

“Happy?” You asked, placing your hands on his chest. He nodded frantically, eyes threatening to pop out of his head. Without warning, you slid onto him, sucking him in with one fell swoop. Your mouth went wide, as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Damn! You’re so f-fucking wet, mama. All for me huh?” He asked with a smirk, watching you bounce up and down on him.

“yessss!!! it’s all for youuu!” You whined, balling your pretty little face up in pleasure. You sped up the pace, looking him in his eyes.

“Untie me, I won’t leave.” He huffed, watching you Please yourself without any of his help.

“You promise?” You moaned, leaning in to place your forehead on his. “I promise.” He grunted, thrusting up into you as he bit his lip. Your mouth flew opened, as you fell into his chest from the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

“See? Now Imagine how good I could make you feel if you untied me.” He muttered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. You reached down lazily, untying his arms as he rutted into you. Once free, He immediately dug his fingernails into your hips, bring you down onto him with every hard thrust. You let out a broken scream that muffled with every stroke.

“You feel amazingggg!” You whimpered, throwing your head back in pure bliss. All he could do was stare at your bouncing breasts, almost sent into a trance by them.

“Comere.” He growled, grabbing your neck harshly, pulling you down to his face. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He grunted, slapping your breasts before massaging them.

“YES! YES! Please, lo’ak!” You screamed, feeling your orgasm build in your lower abdomen. He smirked, pulling you into a sloppy kiss as he thrusted into you relentlessly. He kissed you hungrily; sucking on your lip, spitting in your mouth. You pulled back a-little , moaning into his lips.

“Lo’ak, I’m g-gonna cum!” You squealed, holding the side of his face. He slowed down his pace , rolling his hips into yours to massage your sweet spot with his swollen tip. “Do what you gotta do, mama.” He whispered before taking your sore nipple into his mouth, sucking it softly, as he pumped into you at a steady pace. The overwhelming stimulation sent you over the edge.

“YES! RIGHT THERE!” You screamed sharply, convulsing and cumming hard before falling into his chest. “Yes, just like that baby! I’m gonna fuck the crazy outta you.” He growled, pumping into you slowly as he held your trembling body in his arms. You cried into his chest, feeling jolts of pleasure shoot through your spine with every thrust.

“I thought you were ready? I thought this was what you wanted?” He asked in your ear, as he felt your tears pour over the sides of his waist. He flipped over, prying you off of him to put you on all fours. Your head immediately fell to the ground, hips still in the air.

“No sleeping, mama. We’ve go unfinished business. You brought this upon yourself.” Lo’ak chuckled, slamming into you. Your eyes widened as you tried to get up, but you felt a strong hand pushing your head into the mossy ground.

“Stay just like this! Don’t fucking move!” Lo’ak growled, rutting into your sensitive cunt, making your legs tremble.

“Lo’ak, pleaseee! I w-wont stalk you anymore!” You whimpered, reaching around to push him out of you, as the pleasure was too much for you to bear. He grabbed both of your arms, pinning them behind your back as he took his ponytail out, tying the string around your wrists to secure you.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?” He asked, bending down to your ear as he thrusted into you at a fast pace. You cried out, trying to crawl away from him to no avail.

“I-I-mmm!- I GET IT! I will a -ngh!- Leave you aloneeee!” You whined, tears blurring your vision from the indescribable pleasure.

“If you think I’m letting this pussy go, you’re sadly mistaken. You fucked up, little one.” He chuckled, slapping your ass hard. You whimpered into the ground, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach. He trailed his strong hand all the way up your back and to your hair, pulling you flush to his chest by your braids, harshly. You yelped in pain, feeling your hair rip with every harsh pull.

“This pussy is mines now right? Say it!” He grunted, hitting your bruised sweetspot everytime.

“Fuck!” You squealed, earning you a slap on the ass. You jolted in pain, wiggling under his touch.

“That’s not what the fuck I said!” He growled in your ear, shaking your head with every syllable. you couldn’t even form a collective thought, the pleasure was eating you alive.

“I-I , thi-“ you stuttered. Lo’ak grew angry as he pushed your head back down into the ground, spanking you until you did what he wanted.

“SAY THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!” He yelled, spanking your ass as you tried desperately to squirm from under him.

“LO’AK! MERCY!” You begged, as you felt your ass stinging from your punishment.

“NO, FUCK THAT!” He roared, growing irate. He continued spanking you, harder and harder until you said it.

“T-This pussy is yours, lo’ak!” You screamed, tears running down your face.

“And I’m the only one who can handle your crazy ass, RIGHT?” He shouted, making you scream in fear. “YES, LO’AK!” You whimpered.

“Say you love this dick!” He commanded, rutting into you at the speed of light, slapping your bruised cheeks one more time.

“Ohhhh I love this dick! I love it sooo much!” You moaned, shutting your eyes tightly. Before you knew it, your legs started shaking under him.

“I’m g-gonna cum soon!” You screamed, feeling him hit your sweetspot one good time, making you cry out. You collapsed to the ground, convulsing uncontrollably under him. You let go, squirting all over him as stars flooded your vision.

“Mhmmm, just like that.” He bit his lip, still rocking in and out of you as he felt his high quickly approaching. “Ohhh shit, y/n!” He grunted, pulling out of you. He jerked his cock quickly, letting his hot and sticky seed squirt all over your back as you laid there lifeless.

“Fuck yessss!” He hissed, throwing his head back. You groaned in exhaustion, falling in and out of consciousness. He looked back down at you with a sadistic smirk, watching you twitch occasionally from your lingering orgasm.

“You ok, mama?” He asked, smacking your bruised ass, making you wince in pain, flenching under his touch.

You moaned in agony in response to his question. He shook his head, picking you up to toss you over his shoulder. You whimpered through the whole ordeal. He grabbed both of you guys cloths, walking out of the forest.

“Don’t worry little one, you’re mine now.”

Y’all, not this taking me all day to write😒. I like it thoughhhh period! As always, I love y’all to death, and I’ll talk to y’all later!!

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @ameliestsblog @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair

1K notes · View notes

mistkisbiggestfan · 6 months

Note

Oh my God.

I had a very funny and slightly strange idea...

Imagine that there is mutual sympathy between the reader and Jax. In short, Jax has crush on reader, but the reader... don’t know it.(or just don’t see it)

So, a new person appears in the circus. It doesn't matter who it is, what it is, what their name is, etc.

So, the newcomer and the reader became very close friends. I mean, sleeping in the same room, hugging, holding hands...(I mean friends, no lovers)

Look, I just want to see Jax get jealous, okay...?

Thank you🫶❤️

Jealous! Jax (Romantic) + Pomni (Platonic) / Gn! Reader

Jax (romantic), Pomni (platonic) / Gn! Reader

A/n: Back on the grind we go!! Hell YEAH!! I actually like how this turned out, hope you like it!! REQUESTS FOR TADC ARE OPEN!!!

Summary: Jax may or may not have a crush on you and be very much jealous of Pomni being your close friend. Words: 1448 Request: yup!

There was always a spark between you and Jax, surprising? Absolutely.

The thought that this deranged, unhinged, smooth rabbit man could ever feel such complex emotion as love was insane, at least to everyone except for you.

Sure he has some bad qualities, but that’s normal. (Get a grip bro this man is beyond saving /j)

He was here once you got into the circus, and that first time you met, both of you hit it off great! He was always smug and funny, but nothing too overboard. Of course everyone realized right off the bat, and Ragatha just came to you and was like: “How did you do it?”

You were confused, Jax was always like that! A bit silly, and very charismatic.

And so this feeling bloomed, but somewhere where none could see, not even you. You liked him a lot, surely, but he wasn’t the type to fall for a person, he was so sure of himself, you knew there was no chance of him swooning over someone, not like it’s a bad thing, but he wasn’t a type of person to beg for affection if it was to be taken away.

Or so you thought.

You let your crush take a backseat in this h#!! of a ride. But meanwhile, to Jax’s absolute demise and confusion, he found himself staring a bit too long, or laughing a bit too loudly at your jokes. He fell, definitely not first, but most definitely harder.

The thought process was quite simple really: “Absolutely no f*@/!n# way.”

But oh well, he’s 100 % the type of guy to try to impress you every chance he gets, even at the expense of others.

Not like he cares about others though.

What you might not realize is how under all that narcissistic and overall not the best person is someone who is like, very touch starved.

He would die to even hold hands, but just with you.

That pisses him off slightly, he never had such problems, and it’s not looking good.

He has a way with words, but not a way with emotions. That concept is foreign and very, unsettlingly new to him.

Then a newcomer comes around, a silly little jester – Pomni! Both of you become friends really fast, because unlike Jax, you’re actually one of two best comforters in the Digital Circus, the first-best being Ragatha.

That’s why Pomni always sticks with either you or Ragatha.

At first it wasn’t that much of a problem – You were good at putting others at ease – Jax knew that, and with time, he also knew that Pomni hated physical touch.

So when he saw you two hugging or anything like that? My man is pissed.

And it became an actual, apparent problem. Because the smaller jester stuck to you like glue, soon she was even sleeping with you in your room: “Because hers was too stuffy.” Yeah, he wasn’t buying that. (It was the truth tho lmao)

And when Caine brought it up one time, asking you and Pomni if you were dating?? Fuming, you could really see the smoke coming out of his ears.

Of course both of you quickly shut that down, saying that no, you weren’t dating, and were actually far from it.

Part of him wanted to accept that, why did he even care? The other part told him to fuck up Pomni’s mind to the point of abstraction, one sentence could destroy her so why not?

It wasn’t hard to catch on with his emotions, you saw him pull pranks which were just getting more and more cruel. And there was no way you could let that slide.

Especially since Pomni was coming to you for advice on love herself, since she had an eye on one, quite pretty ragdoll here in the circus.

– Good thing this is just a dream, right Pomni? – Jax elbowed the smaller jester, leaning over her, he watched the product of his words show off in the girl’s eyes, as her pupils became dark and disorganized scribbles. Both of them stood somewhere near your room, everything happening because Jax saw Pomni walking to yours again. And he wasn’t having that, so he decided to mess with the jester who was stealing your attention lately. Pomni stayed silent, making Jax snicker lightly, but something interrupted this $h!t show from going on further, light footsteps. The taller man turned around just to see you coming down the hallway, his smile widened. You focused your eyes on two figures before you. – Jax, Pomni! – You smiled at Jax, making him look away for just a second, before you turned to Pomni, smile turning into a frown. – Pomni? Finally stopping you looked at your friend who was visibly not doing so great. You spoke up again. – Hey Pomni, are you doing okay..? – The jester shook her head, breaking out of the trance, she looked at you, her pupils dilated. – What? Uh, yeah, you know what, I’m going to go. – She said quickly, before awkwardly speeding away from you two. You sighed and looked at Jax, who was smugly looking at you. – What did you tell her this time Jax? – You questioned tiredly, anticipating any reasonable response from the rabbit. He laughed. – Oh nothing much you know, just typical stuff. – His grin widened. – Jax. – You looked at him sternly, at times like this you wondered why you even liked him that much. That, seemingly brought him back to earth for a second. – Maybe something about this being a dream.. you know, just typical stuff. You knew how Pomni was, h#!! she told you herself. Poor little thing, she was battling so many emotions right now, especially since she fell for one of the circus members, just like you – which you could relate to. And know you were looking at him, wondering why? Looking at him, you mentioned for the rabbit to follow you. Finally, as both of you stepped into your room, you shut the door behind you and turned to him. – Jax, what’s up your @$$ lately? – You asked, mad. Well that was anything else he expected from you, seems like you caught on to what he was doing, he sighed still smiling smugly. – What do you mean? – You know what I mean. – You said, crossing your arms on your chest, looking up at him. – Not a single clue! – He played along, to a one sided game. You weren’t having that. And then out of all things you could’ve done, you managed to surprise him, catching his breath in his throat, why? Because out of all things you attacked the weakest part of him – His crippling touch starvation – You caught one of the straps to his overalls and pulled him down so you and the rabbit were on the same eye-level, faces dangerously close to each other. And as he felt your touch on his body, he felt something clicking in his at the moment thoughtless brain. But as soon as the touch came, it was gone, and he felt it linger long after you left the room, leaving him staring dumbfounded at one spot in front of him for far longer than what was deemed normal. And now he was left with two options, mess with your new friend and get all this newfound and surprisingly great but still negative attention, or apologize and somehow get you to touch him again. As he was leaving, walking along the halls towards his room to think, he saw Pomni down the hallway, she saw him too. She looked confused, caught up in this tricky territory called love, just like him. But this time, he decided to leave the jester be, which brought him one step closer to his new habit of longing for you and your touch.

Did he apologize to you? Yeah, if you can call it that. It was a typical, Jax fashioned, half–@$$ed apology, but only because his ego didn’t let him go as far as saying an actual sorry.

But he did change! Well, kind of. He was less obnoxious towards Pomni, and let her adjust to this new hellish life she was forcefully pulled into.

After noticing how the jester’s eyes literally turned to hearts when she looked at Ragatha, and when he overheard you giving love advice to her, he definitely gave up on making her abstract out of pure jealousy.

Instead, making it his goal to get you to touch him in any way, yes, he’s that desperate.

But that made you just more in love, he was actually (a little tiny bit) nice!!

Let’s just hope no new people come around, because jealous Jax is literally a walking death threat.

#requests open #request #please request #tadc pomni #x reader #pomni #ragatha #tadc jax #jax #the amazing digital circus jax #caine #the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax x reader #tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader

387 notes · View notes

foolish-sparrow · 5 months

Text

Dancing in the Dark

A/N: Got an early finish from work and my brain said do the thing.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

The shadow to her light, standing back as she lights up for all to see. You weren't a secret, not quite, and yet you thrived under the hidden smiles and knowing touches.

Idol!Karina x Back-upDancer!Reader

Your lungs burn with a familiar fire; adrenaline guiding your stamina through the motions.

Lasers danced up your body with sporadic bursts of energy, the stage beneath your feet vibrating with a unified excitement that was shared by the crowd.

Sweat was slightly coating your skin, strands of hair beginning to stick around the expanse of your forehead.

You were exhausted, and yet you've never felt so alive.

The roar from the fans that had come tonight had only gotten more hyped with each hour that passed, hoarse throats doing little to squander the primal need to encourage and adore.

There have been a few times where you've had to squish down an exhilarated smile, to undo the curve of your lips and place professionalism back in control.

You couldn't help it, especially during parts of certain choreography a certain someone would face you and make such unhinged expressions to test your control.

Damn Yu Jimin and her Master's Degree for making you laugh.

The one time you did slip, you couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad, not with the pure delight that sparkled in her eyes for the brief second she had before needing to turn around again.

Sometimes -- perhaps in your delusional mind -- it was like the two of you were dancing together. That each light surrounding the space was but a star in the void of space.

It was a thought that didn't play often, kind of hard to with Spicy being belted out by the four idols in front of you, but it was one that occurred enough to make it stick out within your mind.

It was easy for you to love your job to begin with, but those little moments, when she makes it feel like it's just the pair of you -- it just makes you truly appreciate what you had.

Karina made it so easy to love her, and despite the moments of shared banter, you always made sure to let her know just how much she's truly appreciated.

And even now, with the last song coming to an end, you watch as she continues to give it her all for every single person who had come out to see them that night.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

Sometimes, depending on how the night went, the sizzle and spark stays strong even as you're all changing back into normal attire.

Well, for most people, Winter looks more than ready to crash on a soft bed for the next 5 years.

There's a part of you that feels for her, after all your own mucles feel like they're only moments away from liquefying.

But then the idea of drinks and food are brought up to celebrate a night well done, and the chorus of cheers from all members of staff easily drown out a singular tired whine.

You catch Karina's eyes on you from the other end of the room, her smile one of silent adoration that never fails to awaken the slumbering butterflies lying dormant in your chest.

You will never deny the urge to be closer, and so before you know it the distance has decreased within nothing but a flurry of rapid movements.

"You did well today," you say upon approach, loving the way she reaches out to intertwine a pinky with your own.

"So did you."

A grin tugs at your lips, and you tilt your head in a way that lets her know she's about to be enticed into a battle of bants. "How do you know? I'm behind you for maybe... 90% of the time."

She attempts to mimic the expression on your face, but one side of her mouth extends way too far, "because it's you, so I know you did well."

Bullseye. There was no winning when she's so genuine.

You try to brush away the heat rising against your cheeks, but at this proximity there's no denying it.

"Flatterer."

A hum, now all of your fingers are interlaced. "No, just honest."

A stuttered breathe breaks free from your nose, love poured into every particle that filters within the space between you.

You really, really wanted to kiss her when she says things like that.

And if the look on her face is anything to go by, she's fully aware of the fact.

Her smile turns wry and she settles with a squeeze of your hand before their manager is calling for her attention.

Well you think, willing away the frantic beat of your heart, she's going to pay for that.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

A surprised gasp almost forces its way passed your lips when a hand settles over your own.

Too engrossed in a conversation with one of your fellow dancers, you hadn't even noticed when Giselle had decided to switch places with a certain someone.

"Hi," Karina smiles when you jolt in her direction, and you're left floundering for but a second before you regain yourself.

"Damn, and here I was thinking it was Giselle that wanted to hold my hand."

She raises a teasing eyebrow in your direction, the grip on your fingers tightening very slightly.

"Nuh-uh," she shakes your head, but the way the words slur only slightly lets you know that not too much alcohol was in her system... you think.

"No, you're right," you once again concede, making sure to lower your voice since it was only made for her to hear, "I prefer you holding my hand anyway."

She looks deep into your eyes upon your words, and you can see the quick spark of desire, the same one you had only a couple of hours prior.

Kiss her, go on.

But you hold steady, after all there will be a time and place when Karina will be able to freely call you hers, a day when the thumb caressing your skin won't be a secret under the table.

Until then, you'll make the most of the dances you share in the dark.

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #aespa scenarios #aespa imagines #karina x reader #karina imagines #karina scenarios

214 notes · View notes

thealogie · 3 months

Text

The reason BJ is good is the same reason James Wilson is good. It’s all about having a character that is so steady, so buttoned up that they provide the perfect “straight man” for your unhinged main character to play off of. And yeah you do get little sparks of mischief from them. That’s why the unhinged main character likes them after all! It’s because they can keep up. It’s all well and good. And then one day you look under the hood of the car and what you see is so fucked up that it makes the unhinged main character seem normal by comparison. In fact the unhinged main character is now running around after them being like “no baby please calm down I can take care of you it’s ok”

#mash #house md

144 notes · View notes

ieatangstforbreakfast · 5 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ THIS CHAPTER SO LONG 😭

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @adorefavv @depresssedcowboy

Chapter summary ೃ⁀➷ Aaron’s hesitation sparks suspicion in Miles as he begins to ponder about your real identity. You struggle with the new changes, and you finally meet the new being that’s become a tenant to your body.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Aaron knew you.

Not as Antonne, even. But as [Y/n].

Little, nine-year-old [Y/n].

“You’re to watch over them,” He recalls Mr. Fisk’s words. “Especially the girl— how useful she might be, if she’s anything like her father, that is.“

Aaron grimaces behind his mask, quite on edge with the request to investigate a little girl. As his gauntlet unfolds, Aaron reached out a single hand for the manila folder laid before him, flipping a page. There, he spots the image of a little you, dressed in a mauve dress paired along with a bored expression atop your downcast eyes. You were sitting by yourself in your classroom, your chin resting atop your tiny hand.

That was the first time he caught a glimpse of your name.

[Y/n].

“What if she’s more like her mother, Sir?” He halfheartedly asks, unsure if Fisk would take it as a joke. Wilson drew a long breath from his half-burnt cigar, leaning back into his chair with a lopsided grin.

“Even better.”

And then, he remembers. Remembers the day you first entered his life.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Before you, there was your mother. The woman Rio praised, idolized, adored. He’s watched her gleam too many times at the sight of her simply gliding across the silver screen. Something about her tantalizing allure, or something like that. Aaron, being the guard he was, only witnessed this interaction from afar. He figured to get her autograph right after the mission when he’s maskless and unsuspicious.

Fisk’s wife, Vanessa, gestured the woman to sit next to her. Your mother gracefully accepts the invitation, and upon moving away, it was only then you popped out of nowhere— your mother’s skirt being the curtain that unveiled you.

“You must be [Y/n]!” Vanessa cooed. “My, aren’t you a pretty little girl? Aren’t I right, Richard?”

And there marked your first meeting with the boy. Wilson Fisk’s only son— Richard Fisk. A pale brunet with large black eyes that seemed to follow your every move. The boy inched a little too close when your mother commanded you to sit next to him.

“Your hair is so.. Weird.” Richard piqued as he reached out a clammy hand to pull at one of your strands. “Is it real?—“

One glare from you alone made him retract his approach.

Oh. You weren’t as frail as he first thought.

“Richard, don’t go touching people’s hair. I taught you better than that.” Vanessa scolded of the boy. He sheepishly nodded, easing away from your presence.

It was mostly Wilson’s idea to get Richard close to you under the guise of a playmate— in hopes the two of you would one day grow up to be romantically involved. Though your mother and Vanessa’s meeting initiated the beginning of a close friendship, it only began a bloody game of hot and cold between you and Richard.

But Aaron eventually came to the conclusion that the reason you never spoke to Richard wasn’t because of shyness, rather, like the kind of girl who rightfully prided herself in her surname, you felt superior over this little boy.

And the thing is about children— they weren’t born to hate. They were raised to specifically act that way, and he learned to understand your complexities after working for your father every now and then, and he came to an eventual realization that you weren’t anything all too heartless like your parents.

“Aren’t you thirsty?”

That was the first time you’d spoken to him. It was a hot summer July day, and Aaron had been momentarily left alone by the Fisks to fetch for something. In the midst of the garden, Aaron was stationed by the pavilion to look after you. He’d been a sweating mess in his mask and suit, and your eleven-year-old self seemed to notice it quickly.

“Here,” You handed him a glass of orange juice. “This can freshen you up.”

And even after your offer, he stares vacantly at the gleaming cup, somewhat lost in the heat to acknowledge it. Seeing his hesitation, you grumbled and held his hand up to stuff the glass between his fingers. “I’m not an otherworldly being. You can talk to me normally, you know.”

And in that tone was a desperation for casualty.

“Thank you.” Was his only reply.

And after then, little you started fostering this sort of strange fascination towards him.

“Mr. Prowler!”

Tiny little legs, swift steps. You often greeted him that way, along with a large wave your mother always scolded you for. You endowed a strange sort of liking towards him, even when he was only silent in your presence. It was safe to say you were probably only visiting the Fisks’ just to see him. Aaron never knew the reason why you’d grown to like him so much, but he always assumed it was because of curiosity.

You liked to endlessly babble beside him, talking about the randomest of things. Something about school, or a book you’ve read, or how you wanted to grow up and run the hotel. You were tiny, then. Like a little mouse running around, chasing after him. In a way, you reminded him of Miles. So talkative. So curious about many things.

Every after mission, Aaron accompanied you everywhere, even behind a mask. And strangely, you never really requested him to take it off despite your stubbornness. The more he got involved into your family’s household, the more he came to learn about your personality.

You were a lively kid— talkative, playful, and wild like hell. You were a walking disaster too. Montrell and Antonne often had to watch out for your shenanigans, as you were too unpredictable for anyone to handle.

You liked sneaking into the kitchen before midnight just to steal some sweets, tossing your siblings’ stuff into the private pool, and stealing your mother’s makeup while lying that you didn’t. You were a kid. A little girl, a giggly one at that.

Until you weren’t.

ＲＥＪＥＣＴＥＤ.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

ＲＥＪＥＣＴＥＤ.

"None of them want to accept the damn drive.” Miles mumbled, shoving himself away from the table out of frustration. “Why the hell are they so scared? This will rip apart the election once this gets out. The media would be a shitshow with these!” He places his hands over his face, his icy touch meeting the warmth of his freckled cheeks.

For the last few hours, Miles had taken the day off and had instead been deliberately emailing various networks regarding the obscenities and anti-human practices they’ve found in the warehouse— only to find that each and every network’s rejected the information. Miles had gone as far as to personally email bloggers, journalists, even conspiracy theorists just for the sake of publicizing their crimes, only to meet the same rejection from everyone else he’s ever reached out to.

Behind him was his ever-so-weary Uncle Aaron restlessly pacing back and forth about the room while cleaning the gauntlet with a damp rag. “So long as the oligarchs remain in charge, no one will be brave enough to publish those, Miles.” He mumbles, a sort of dread lingering inside him.

“Ion get it,” Miles sighs. “At least one outlet talking about the damn issue can literally change the world!”

“Fear is a catalyst for many of us.” Aaron sets the gauntlet aside. “The rich control the systems, and they can either starve us or feed us. Hell, they can even kill us. The media outlets are run by people— people with families to feed, to protect. Not many of us can afford to look out for others when we can’t even look out for ourselves.”

“But that’s exactly the reason why nobody ain’t gonna be free.” The boy contends. “All of us are scared— and the rich will continue to take advantage of that until we all learn to stand our ground. If we don’t, they’re going to continue playing God, deciding who lives and who won’t, and until then it’s only up to us.”

“We can’t be heroes to everyone, Miles.”

He nods. “I know,” With a hand over the mouse, he shifts. “We can only be heroes if it benefits the government, but the moment we recognize them as the villains, we’re vigilantes.. But then again, as they say.

No answer will be heard to the question no one asks.”

Aaron gained a sort of pride hearing those words from his nephew, but it didn’t change the fact that Miles was rapidly gaining a thorough understanding of things he shouldn’t actually be involved in at his delicate age of fifteen. He was a child, and no matter how great his mind was, he should’ve been using it on acing science fair projects or starting witty banter with his friends— not to gain justice for his father’s death.

Aaron initially never wanted Miles to enter the world he’s grown absolutely sick of. He wanted to let Miles live in a world away from the mercenary act he had to keep up for the sake of money, but even then, Miles was sucked into it like a black hole.

And he remembers you.

How everything ruined you.

‘Is your sister also a piece of shit like you?’

The way he spoke stemmed from a fit of anger.

What the hell were you doing with Miles? What exactly brought you to interact with his only nephew?

He wanted to know just how much of a monster you’ve become after he left. When Antonne spoke about you being more of a pacifist, he wanted to believe in those words. He wanted to believe you grew up to be a kinder, healthier version of yourself despite the conditions of your family— and when he saw you again in those photos with Miles, looking like every other teenager, he felt… Relieved.

Along with it came a sense of guilt, bearing a sort of news he couldn’t stomach. It sprouted like a vine in his throat, words crawling up his esophagus as he chokes out.

“Your girlfriend, Miles. How’s she been?”

And the tension eases. Miles is suddenly lighter at the mention of you. “It’s our first date tomorrow,” He pridefully bragged. “Trick or treating. She’s gonna be the bubonic plague.”

“.. What?”

“It’s an inside joke.” He grins, leaning back into the chair at the thought of you. “I’m gonna be a plague doctor, and she’s gonna a medieval patient dying of the bubonic plague.”

“What the hell..?” Aaron shook his head in confusion. “Kids these days got too much shit going on in y’all’s heads.”

Miles mulls the headset off his ears. “She’s never done trick-or-treating— I saw it in her eyes, her mama prolly kept talkin’ shit ‘bout the holiday like how my mama talks shit ‘bout Tiya Rosa’s tamales. Like, poison inside the damn food or sum.”

“Yeah, well, that woman’s always..” Always, restricted her daughter.

“Always what?”

“.. Your Tiya Rosa’s tamales got too much spice all the damn time.”

“.. Tiya Rosa, huh?”

And in the height of his emotions, Aaron’s words sparked suspicion in Miles.

The boy then fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, a habit he probably learnt from you. He takes the second to stand up, brushing his dampened hands down the polyester of his jogging pants. “Now, I didn’t skip school just to help you email the press or to hear you ask about [Y/n] like she’s some project I’m working on. I skipped school because you mentioned something about her, and I wanted to know what you meant by her being connected to the Primos.”

Aaron took a sharp, deep breath. “.. Right, that.”

“Do you know her?”

“Not anymore.”

“Wha— How does that even work?”

Aaron gestured Miles to sit next to him, straightening his back with his head held low. The anxiety that lingered in his throat had his foot tapping against the wooden planks. Had him biting the inner of his cheek.

“Before we get to it, can you first tell me how the first two of you met?” Aaron starts. “Full detail. Not a single thing missed. From there, go on about how the two of you happened.”

And it takes Miles back to that rainy night again.

“.. Three months ago, during the Aureum collapse anniversary, one of my friends sent me a link to a secret forum.”

Miles eased his shoulders, laying his head above the cushion as he stared at the ceiling. “There was this group of people, consisted of close relatives of the victims— sisters, wives, husbands— who were planning on vandalizing a mural at the hotel before the day of the annual mourning. I joined the plan, but when we got there, we barely began the work but we were already being apprehended.”

And in vivid remembrance, Miles pictures the entire memory recreating itself from dust right in front of him. He remembers the loud patters of the rain, the loud screams and curses of his fellow vandals. When another officer attempts to near him, he grabs the nearest paint bottle and sprays it directly into his eyes— running off into the distance with heavy steps.

“I got away. As much as I wanted to save everyone, I couldn’t fight all the security there, so I hid somewhere in the garden.”

Gripping the bottle, Miles headed straight into the pastures of the greeneries and flowers, losing himself in the tall maze. He could still hear the angered officers’ yells, warning him to return. With jagged breaths, he makes the choice to take every sharp turn in an attempt to thwart their chase— eventually running into a dead end.

“I really thought I was gonna get arrested that night.”

With a broken sigh, he crouches behind one of the hedges, placing a hand over his mouth to cover his loud heaving.

“.. They never came, though. And I got lost in the damn thing.”

With a blur over his vision, Miles pulls a hand over his brows, coughing at the icy ache that knocked up his lungs. For a while, he grips the red can harder just to prepare himself for any threat— when he suddenly hears the sound of heavy footsteps thundering across the maze. He whips his head, searching for where it all came from.

“But then she got to me.”

And the haze of his exhaustion, a swift figure dressed in black takes him by the hand, running off into the distance. Lost in confusion, Miles lifts the can to attack but his instinct tells him not to, simply running along with the figure. “Are you stupid?” They breathily asked. “You could’ve went anywhere else. You’re going to get yourself arrested!”

At that time, Miles couldn’t tell if you were a frequenter of the hotel or a person with just some really good sense of direction, but you did manage to easily take him out the maze after three wrong turns. With shifting looks, you checked everywhere except his disposition, dragging him like a toy to privacy— which was a smoking area with closed off windows.

“.. Who the fuck are you?” He managed to finally ask after catching up with his breath.

“That’s some language considering I saved your ass.”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Alright,” You snicker. “Go out and face them yourself, then.” You pointed at the door. “Since you’re so brave and so smart.”

Miles was irked by your sarcastic, upbeat tone. But even then, when he saw your hand shivering, he couldn’t help but ease down his words. “… Don’t go too close to the door, they’ll see you.” As he brought up his hand to touch your shoulder, you turned around and looked at him with wide eyes.

“.. When I saw her, I thought to myself, oh fuck, I am so doomed.”

And how doomed he was. You thought Miles couldn’t see you crying then, but he was so lost with every detail of your face that it felt like he’d known you his whole life.

If only he knew the roles assigned to the both of you in this world.

Miles was no stranger to the world. He struggled to make do along with his mother, and he was a boy of no significant background. He was smart, for sure, and that aided him in his façade as the second Prowler.

He thought you’d be more similar, despite this sort of oddness you endowed. You seemed sheltered, but smart enough to question the cage that harbored you.

The two of you were faced with harsh realities stemming from two sides of a system that oppressed you both. Miles never knew about it: your wealth, but the outcomes of how the system ruined the both of you were so similar. It fooled him into thinking you were just like him.

“But Miles,” Aaron shifts closer. “Did she ask anything about our family?”

Miles stared in confusion. “For what?”

“Anything— about your father, your mother, me. Where you live, what we do. Miles, did you tell her that you’re the Prowler?”

“No! I wouldn’t tell her a damn thing, she could get hurt.” He lied, only thoroughly thinking about the idea as soon as Aaron mentioned it. “But why are you asking me this?”

“.. How far can an excuse go, Miles?.. Tell me, how far are you willing to defend your ideals? Would you pay the price to defend what you’re fighting for?”

“.. I’m willing to pay any price,” Just as Aaron’s about to concede, Miles adds. “For the sake of creating a world where she can paint skies and sunsets in cafes and not run businesses at the age of sixteen.”

“Alright,” Aaron huffs. “Let me tell you something about your girlfriend, Miles.”

Screech.

You grimaced at the sound of the fork scraping against your plate, taking a while to rest the side of your hand awkwardly beside the tableware. You take the moment to flit your eyes open, finally able to take your first look at your family meal— with Montrell and your father discussing heartily about his adventures in London, while you, Antonne, and Malachi were left to bask in the conversation in silence.

You felt heavy. Everywhere. Like there was this weight you were shouldering that you couldn’t fathom.

It had your finger wringing against the string of your pearl necklace, had your damp palm digging into the champagne silk of your dress. You didn’t want to be here— not after all that’s happened. Not after Montrell’s taken your job, and definitely not after you’ve disappointed your father.

You felt like choking on your steak, but gruesomely starving at the same time.

“Which brings me to the topic, [Y/n], how have you been?”

Oh, God, you fucking HATED that question.

For a moment, you finally look at Montrell, now you’re able to scrutinize how much he’s changed in the last few years you’ve spent apart. Broad-shouldered, charming— princely, as most would claim. A sort of doe-like endowment in his eyes, unlike yours and Antonne’s, which were unreasonably fiery in the way you’d both stare.

“I’ve been alright,” You began. “Haven’t been much busy these days, just working on school projects and all of those things.” You could sense your father’s growing indifference to your statement, bearing the knowledge that you’ve been running the hotel for almost half a decade. Montrell similarly notices the family’s shared looks of restlessness and tension, but is unable to understand why the air’s transitioned into something so dim.

“I heard you’re performing tango next week for the fundraiser.“ He tries to strike up a brighter topic, to which you blandly smile and nod. “Yes. I’ve been.. Practicing a lot. Since it’s to fund Senator Barlowe’s project, I can’t leave room for any mistakes.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Montrell smiled. “I bet you’ll do great. Good luck.”

Internally, you admitted that optimism only sounded believable if it came from Miles’ mouth.

“Thank you.” You take a sip off of your water. “I might as well have to say the same thing to you, with all your upcoming responsibilities.”

Your father angrily sets his utensils down with a small bam. “[Y/n].” He calls out like a warning. You lift the brim off your lips, marking the glass with your lipstick. “What? I’m being polite.” You watch as he scowled at your reply. “… Has no one told him yet?”

“Told me what?” Montrell piqued, bringing a spoon up to his mouth but never feeding on the meal.

Immediately, the bomb slips your tongue with a boom despite the way Antonne cleared his throat.

“You’re going to be running the hotel.”

“[Y/n]!”

“What?” You answered with a heightened voice, but it wasn’t loud enough to be considered a yell. “With how much you were rushing the process, I thought you’d have told him by now.”

“It’s an unofficial decision that we haven’t discussed with the staff yet. Since Antonne’s too busy with other matters in regards to college and other things, we were going to discuss if you could run the hotel in his place.”

Hearing this only urged the confusion to tangle even more.

“Why can’t [Y/n] run the hotel?”

You almost choke on your food.

“[Y/n]’s also considerably intelligent. It’d be nice for her to practice running a business even if it’s just upkeep. She should at least be familiar with the family businesses before she goes overseas to study.”

The idea seemed plausible— had it been an idea that hasn’t happened before.

“.. Are you unable to do it yourself, Mon?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I simply think that since my little sister’s also a smart girl, it’d be only fair for her to be given a chance.”

Oh. Montrell cared.

Even in the sort of way that was subtle. It wasn’t like Antonne’s— whose ‘care’ was a rarity to be paraded.

You hated that word. Smart. The term seemed so shallow, even if it was meant to be a compliment. You never saw yourself as smart, or naturally gifted. You studied, a lot, but you never took in the meaning of so many things. You liked to think you were talented in memorization, but even after any exam or challenge, you were often quick to drop the lessons that came along with it.

You were too burdened with academic validation that your grades mattered to you more than the meaning of any lesson.

Were you even learning anymore?

You didn’t know.

Your father placed a hand over his chin, fiddling with the hairs of his beard. “Your sister.. Is too young.”

“I’m sixteen.”

“As I said.”

“You made Antonne run the hotel when he was fifteen!”

“That’s because Antonne’s the heir.”

“Well, who else is going to run the hotel? Malachi?” Your sarcasm was slipping through your teeth so explicitly that you were unable to hide your bitterness. “I mean he is ten-years-old, and dad doesn’t seem all mindful about wagering minors.”

Your little brother shifts uncomfortably. He averts everyone else’s gaze, and you only then admit that you’ve crossed the line mentioning little Malachi.

“[Y/n], you’re being immature.” Antonne finally spoke, with a furrowed brow scribbled across his poor attempt of a calm expression.

Picking up a knife, you begin to saw through your steak. “To be fair, Antonne, there are many things sixteen-year-old me can’t do. Like being mature,” As you cut a piece, you snicker. “Or running a hotel.”

“Can you just— stop it?” Antonne huffs. “You’re being unreasonably upset. As father says, you’re too young. If you’ve already forgotten, my age was the reason why many lives were lost.”

“Sure, and your current age is the reason why you’ve accepted responsibility over those deaths.”

“STOP IT!”

The table shakes upon the bellow of your father’s voice. And in the fire of his anger, you stood without another word, and the scrape of your chair against the floor marked the beginning of your defiance. As you pulled the napkin off your lap, you folded the damn thing and placed it beside the plate.

With the click of your heels, you head for the exit when you suddenly hear your father mumble.

“Tsk. So emotional.”

And this struck something inside you. For a moment, you pause, and a bold voice echoed inside your mind.

And it only made you angrier. Shooting a glare at him, you announced.

“I’m your fucking daughter, not your wife, not your maid— your fucking daughter. and all I ever did my whole life was slave and respect you and submit to your every word. And all I get is you fucking glaring at me like that! Why are you fucking looking at me like that when I’ve done everything to appease you?

All I wanted was an ‘I’m proud of you, [Y/n]’ or a ‘You’re doing great, [Y/n]’, ‘You deserve a break because you’re overworking yourself, [Y/n]’— NO! I can’t rest, I can’t live like I’m sixteen because you put all of us up on a pedestal because you can’t be a father. And you,” You pointed at Antonne.

“You’re such a fucking waste, you’re such a fucking waste of talent, of heart, and mind. What could’ve been a lesson for you became a lesson for me. If you could’ve just said ‘I’m sorry’, if you could’ve just fucking accepted and– just take responsibility and just give respect to the lives that were— but you didn’t, BECAUSE NONE OF US CAN TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANYTHING!”

A still silence.

And you realized, that everything all happened in your mind.

With the last of your dignity, you choked back your words and left. In the back of your mind, something whispered.

「You got a message from Miles♡」

You nearly unhinge the door from a slam. You trudge over to the vanity, gripping over the corners of the table in anger.

It’s unfair.

It was so unfair for you to lose everything you’ve worked so hard for in a span of a week. All of what you prided yourself in: Being better than Antonne, having control over the hotel, being your father’s most trusted aide, and having a sense of control over your own future— it all vanished in a week.

You felt conned. Betrayed. Like you’ve wasted so much of your youth for an unattainable ideal.

You wanted to shatter everything within the room. Wreck all of what’s left of everything. Maybe even burn down the hotel.

ＷＨＹＮＯＴ？

The voice rang.

Your eyes flit open, looking into the mirror in disbelief, only to find a dark being stare right back at you. Grimy, slimy—

ＤＯＮ’ＴＢＥＲＵＤＥ.

A shrill scream exits your lips as you stumble back, falling on your behind as you struggled to get away. You looked at your hands, praying they’d remain as they were— clean, prim, and groomed. It felt like there were bugs crawling up your back. Suddenly, a dark matter carried you back to the vanity, forcing you to look at the creature that was supposed to be your reflection.

It smiled with its sharp teeth.

“Don’t be scared.”

“You’re as commanding as my father, fuck damn it.” You squirmed, quivering in a sort of unadulterated fear you couldn’t understand. “I’m not your father, [Y/n]. Though I don’t think that lowly creature that sat across you in that dining table’s anything deserving of that title.” It spoke in a low, gravel-like voice. “He’s hurt you, little girl. But you hurt yourself the most.”

You ease a little, the same sort of shamelessness you always endowed now kicking back into your senses.

“… You know nothing about me.”

“I know everything about you. I am within the confines of your mind.” A slimy tentacle of black tar creeps out from your back, pulling you closer to the mirror. It eventually creeps up on your face, squeezing your cheeks. “You’re a riot of a girl, but you have your weaknesses. You’re a great planner, but not a great executor. You tend to underestimate the capabilities of those around you because you look up to yourself too much— but at the same time, there is no one within this world who hates you more than you do.

I can fix those broken parts of you. I can help you in ways you’ll forever be grateful for.”

In the middle of his long speech, you frowned. “... Why is your way of talking so refined? I thought you were an alien being, how the hell do you speak English?”

“Would you rather I be sarcastic or truthful?”

“Anything.”

“I’m not Barbie, child.”

You grimaced at the horrible joke. “Truthful, of course.”

“I take hold of your subconscious, so we share the same memories, the same talents, the same thoughts. I know all about the first time you scraped your knee, how you like doing your hair, how you’ve lived, and the first time you met that boy,” It grinned. “Miles Morales.”

“… What of him?”

“It is of my knowledge that he’s your greatest weakness, yes?”

“Would you consider liking a boy a weakness?”

“For someone like you?” You hear it snicker. “Largely.”

It was like you were being tossed from one scrutinizing dinner to another. You pinched the bridge of your nose, turning your head to avoid staring at this questionable creature. Suddenly, one of the tentacles grab your phone, tossing it over to you.

“It doesn’t mean I’m not supportive of your little romance.”

You scrolled through the screen. “It doesn’t matter if you support my romance or not, I decide for myself.”

Miles♡ || Three minutes ago

Hey I’m at spirit halloween rn

do you wanna uh

buy halloween costumes for tomorrow?

“You’re deciding for two now, [Y/n].” The being growled. “Eating for two, acting for two.”

You clicked your tongue and hushed the damn thing. “If someone were to overhear us, they’re going to think I’m pregnant.” You stand up, heading over to unveil one of your windows. You look out into the scarlet afternoon, unlatching the locks as you slid the glass open. The cold wind blew at you like a harsh greeting, making you curse. “.. Fuck, can you morph into like a hoodie or something? I can’t go out dressed like this.”

“I’m an alien being, mademoiselle, not your personal tailor.”

“You presented yourself like you’re the best thing to ever happen in my life, but you can’t even morph into a goddamn jacket?”

“I am— how dare you!”

“.. Guess you got that narcissism from me too, huh?”

“[Y/n]?”

You slammed your window shut upon hearing the voice. A bated sigh ran past your parted lips, your nails marking a scratch over the sill as you took your hands away from the window.

“Montrell.” You greeted him. “… What brings you here?”

Your brother leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed before his chest, head nearly grazing the top rail. “.. Were you talking to someone?”

You take a few steps away from the window. “I was talking to myself. I’m quite imaginative, you see. Sometimes delusion is the solution.”

“I—“ He shook his head in confusion, stifling a short laugh before stepping right inside. “That’s.. Good for you, [Y/n]. But.. Were you just about to jump out the window?”

Your mouth hung open. “Me? Jump out the window? Psh,” You nervously giggled. “I-I was just checking how cold it was outside because I was contemplating on.. Going outside.” You looked at the window and shut the curtains. “Indeed, it’s very cold so I can’t do that.”

You’re a horrible liar.

Shut the fuck up.

The door clicks behind Montrell as he approaches you, gaze lingering on the interior of your room. The place was dim, yet organized in a way. You had kept a lot of your plushies despite the childlike air it kept— those were likely the last toys you’ve ever considered keeping.

“You still kept Miss Lisbon.” He plucked one of the plushies out from the pile, particularly a pink fluffy rabbit with a giant lace ribbon placed on one of its ears. He brings it closer to his nose, earning a whiff of its strawberry-scented perfume, a sign that you’ve been taking care of her rather well. “I got you this when you were eight.”

“Miss Lisbon’s my best friend.” You reach for the fluffy toy, easing it out of his grasps. “I can’t possibly let her go, not when she knows about every war crime I’ve committed.”

“Miss Lisbon’s a great listener, which was why I gave her to you.”

The silence that followed made you uneasy. You wanted to talk and fill in the room with nonsensical talk of whatever, but you could tell even Montrell’s struggling to speak. When you do managed to finally part your lips, the both of you coincidentally began at the same time, which led to him excusing himself so you can speak first— to which you ushered him to speak first, and so on and so forth.

But it was after that awkward moment that you’ve grown quite comfortable with his presence.

“… [Y/n], I’m not going to force you to open up about.. Whatever happened in the dining room.” Montrell starts. “I know I haven’t been here for a long, long time, and it’ll only make you uneasy if I forced details out of you. I came here to check on you, and solely for that reason alone. Since we’re family, I just wanted to let you know that if you need someone– anyone– to talk to, I’m right here.”

You stood there, grasping Miss Lisbon with a frown.

Family. Really, to say it’s because you’re family that he’s willing to do such things— it seemed a little too naïve. After all, you were disappointed by the very people who were supposed to love and care for you since the very beginning.

With a soft touch, Montrell takes the hands you were holding Miss Lisbon with, placing the plushie over his face.

“Just think of me as Miss Lisbon.”

You squeeze the toy a little.

“Let me listen to your every war crime.”

When you lower your hands, you see your older brother, smiling at you sweetly. He was like a softer version of your father. A little more smiley, with dimples marked into the corner of his every smile. When your phone buzzes again, a request slips out your mouth.

“Can you drive me somewhere?”

165 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 10 months

Text

Azriel x reader: Pull You Down[*]

A/N: I feel like there’s a prominent theme of me initially writing a pretty vanilla fic and then spinning the wheel of my kinks and just randomly throwing one in

Side note: just assume his shadows removed the pancake from the stove…

Warnings: food play (honey pouring), pussy-eating, smut, not proofread

“Something smells good.”

Your lips hitch up into a smile at the deep drawl, roughened by sleep. Husky, and delicious.

You turn to meet Azriel’s morning-softened eyes, how the dark centre within his green ring melts like honey in the sunlight.

“Pancakes?” You step aside to reveal the stack you’ve created, a few toppings sealed in dinky glass jars to the side. Some jam (strawberry, raspberry, apricot), some honey, and some cream (with strawberries and nuts scattered over top).

He pads across the kitchen silently, the deep blue cotton of his night clothes swishing quietly. Initially, he’d been against the idea of matching pyjama sets, colour flushing his cheeks when you had first suggested it, but you’d worn him down.

Azriel’s arms wrap around your waist, solid warmth pressing against your back as he settles his jaw over your head. “Looks good.” You hum in response, a spark of pleasure heating your chest at the approval. “When do you want to eat?” You ask, flipping the last pancake.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he answers easily, still a bit lethargic from what was apparently a good night’s rest.

You smile a bit. “Someone slept well.”

His arms squeeze you in response, and he dips to your ear. “I was very worn out.” You stiffen, the pleasant soreness between your legs a gentle reminder of the night before.

“You were rather…unhinged.” You venture, pressing into him slightly so he would understand that wasn’t a bad thing. Sure enough, he nipped at the shell of your ear, silent encouragement for your feedback. “The riding crop was a pleasant surprise.” A quiet growl rumbles in his chest, full of masculine satisfaction. Maybe you curved your back a little, just to press into his hips. Maybe you wound against him too.

A shiver runs down your spine as one of his hands snakes up your front, tracing between your breasts as he cups your jaw. “Any other fixations you’d like to tell me about, pet?” Your breathing hitches, feeling the shift in atmosphere as he tightens his grip on you—more dominating; firmer.

You swallow, and you’re sure he feels the roll of your throat beneath his palm. “No, sir.”

“No?” He drawls, the hand atop your stomach tracing soft, teasing patterns with his fingertips. “None?” Your thighs squeeze together, hand tightening on the spatula as you feel his lips brush the tip of your ear. Your very sensitive, pointed ear.

You shiver.

Azriel lands a firm smack to your cheek for taking too long and you have to grit your teeth to keep from whimpering. “Answer, pet.”

“I…like when you surprise me, sir.” You admit softly. “When you…show your own tastes.” His hand tightens but he’s listening. Intently. “Depraved as they sometimes are.”

His hand dips below your nightgown, hooking beneath the hem that comes to the middle of your thighs. You’re body tenses as the pads of his fingers dance over your bargain mark: the empty circle with the crossed lines haloing it. “Depraved?” He drawls, his touch feather-light. “I think you should be grateful I’m willing to share my fantasies with a filthy thing like you.”

A shiver spider-walks down your spine, and you fight to keep from whimpering at his smooth tongue. His mouth opens over the skin of your neck, tongue swiping up the column of your throat, teeth scraping over your skin.

Your hands grip the counter, one squeezing the spatula— fuck, the pancakes.

You hiss, noting how the edges are already curling, the sign you need to flip it over—pronto. You reach forward, sliding the instrument beneath—

His hands drop to your hips, pulling you back and spinning you around so you’re further from the stove. His body flattens against your own, soft skin meeting unyielding muscle as his hips press into your own and you have feel him pressing into your belly. Over the bargain mark.

You open your mouth to scold him, the words on the tip of your tongue, but you see the gleam in his eyes. The spark. He’s just waiting for you to stumble. So he can pounce.

One hand is now wrapped around your waist, the other settled on your throat, resting with proprietary entitlement. You shiver.

“Look at me.”

You swallow, but raise your gaze to his.

His pupils are dilated, expanding across his iris’, devouring you as you watch him. His hand raises to your cheek, brushing up over your throat to swipe his thumb across your lip.

Azriel lifts you from the ground, shifting you into the air before dropping you onto the counter. You bite your lip—he’s not gentle in his actions.

“That hurt, pet?”

Swallowing, you dip your head, leaning back on your arms. “A bit, sir.”

His fingertips dance up the tops of your thighs, hooking beneath your nightgown and lifting, allowing his eyes to settle over your slick heat. He groans, thumb brushing over your hip—dipping lower to just above the apex of your thighs. The muscles in your legs tense with the need to buck against him.

“Good.” He breathes, eyes not leaving your cunt.

You’re so wet. He’s barely touching you and you’re already dripping down onto the surface. His lips quirk at the edges, a dark light glinting in his eyes as they glaze. “Maybe one day, I should leave you wrapped in my shadows. See what they do with you.”

Your jaw tightens with the effort not to squeeze your thighs together, to keep from moaning. His thumb dips lower, tracing over your glistening sex, light enough to be a deft brush of his fingers. Hardly a breath of stimuli. “Keep you on your hands and knees, while I’m out working. Leaving you two to get to know each other…”

As if in response, they crest at his shoulders, peering down at you with eager curiosity. You bite the inside of your lip to keep from whimpering. “I’m sure they’d like that,” he drawls, raising a hand for them to wrap around, rubbing against him as a cat would. “Maybe they’d collect all the slick that drips from this pretty cunt into a jar.” He picks up the pot of honey. “Like this one.”

The heat is boiling, bubbling beneath your skin, breaths shallowing. “I can’t imagine a single dish you wouldn’t taste good with.”

You draw in a shaky breath, hearing the glass clink as he sets the jar back down on the side. His hands settle atop your thighs, spreading them as he easily lifts your night robe from under you, peeling it up so it pools at your waist. Allowing your arousal to slick the counter. “Would you like that, huh? Like the idea of them having their way with your pretty cunt?” He drawls lowly.

Your lips part in need, desperately keeping yourself silent but you’re panting. You need him to touch you. Need him to do something.

He smacks you lightly, palm connecting with your cheek as the stinging sensation settles into your skin. A soft whine drags from your lips, and his eyes gleam. He’s wearing you down, layer by layer, stripping you bare until you’re a shaking, quivering mess at his feet.

“Answer, pet.”

If his hand would just drop a little lower. If his fingers would just sink into you. Even if he just put his mouth to yours, you would be happy.

“Sir…” you manage, back curving, tilting your head downward to peer up at him. His wings flare slightly, making him seem larger. His eyes hunt your mouth, tracking their movement with predatory focus.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The words are barely a brush of his lips over your own, but you can feel their quiet threat.

Your head dips, “yes, sir. I would.” Need thrums beneath your skin, and you know he can sense how desperate you are. And he’s still withholding your pleasure.

He arches a brow in silent command, thumb now brushing over your inner thigh, circling in light, taunting patterns. You look at him with pleading eyes, quietly begging him to touch you.

“I—…”

Your lips part with a startled moan, and you smack your hand over your mouth.

His shadows had wound their way up your calves, over your thighs, settling between them, poised to strike. And when you had begun to answer him, they dragged over the slick mess that was steadily dripping onto the counter.

They pull away as quickly as they had arrived, leaving you wet, hot, and needy, beneath the mercilessly gaze of the shadowsinger. You can practically feel his satisfaction as he tuts, slowly.

“I thought you knew our rules.” He drawls, mouth so, so close to your own. You push against his grip, leaning for his mouth, but he lands another smack to your cheek in warning, and you squirm on the countertop. “Are you being purposefully disobedient, pet?”

You shake your head, “no, sir. I swear—”

He’s pulling you away from the side, and before you know it, his hand is fisted in your hair, forcefully bending you over. You gasp, his hips pressing against the swell of your ass, eyes rolling a bit.

“I think you need a fresh reminder. Isn’t that right, pet?”

Shit. What’s the right answer. Yes, or no? Which one will please him the most? Which one’s correct? Shit, shit, shit.

He laughs, and you know you’re fucked.

You help when his hand connects with your ass, making you flinch, breasts pressing against the cool marble, making you bite your lip. “Make one more noise,” he whispers beside your ear, “and we’ll see how long you can go without coming.”

Your breath catches.

Especially as his hand snakes down your front, the one in your hair moving to cup your throat. Your eyes widen as he smacks your clit, knees wobbling as you lean more of your weight into the marble, but his hand comes down again. Again, again, and again. Until tears are rolling down your cheeks.

So overwhelmed.

The mouth-watering press of his cock against your ass, the solid heat of him at your back, the sinful brush of his mouth over the nape of your neck. Your toes curl.

“Open,” he growls softly, tapping your inner thigh.

Tears spilling, you part your legs a little wider, having tried to close them when he was abusing your sensitive clit. “How many do you think you deserve?” He muses, teeth scraping your ear, and you wish he would put them in your neck. He knows that too.

“Five?” He murmurs, and a quiet sob breaks from you, shuddering beneath his powerful grip. “Ten?” He asks, revelling in your reactions.

He pinches your clit, and you so nearly whimper. From the pain, from the pleasure he’s keeping just out of reach. So close your fingertips could brush it.

“Thirty?”

You nearly give out, praying to the Mother he doesn’t give you thirty. You won’t last that long. There’s no way. You’re already so nearly done. Already so used. Even five is a stretch.

Tears brim at the edges of your eyes, vision blurring so you don’t notice his shadows gripping the jar he’d earlier set down. Nor as they pop it open.

Azriel pressing mockingly soft kisses up the length of your neck, making you melt into him, desperate for that soft touch. His mouth is heavenly soft, just the barest whisper of pleasure against your sizzling nerves and you release a shaky breath.

You can feel him shifting behind you, but think nothing of it.

Until something cool, and viscous is pressed to your clit.

Your mouth drops open in pleasure, in relief at the cold sensation to your puffy heat. You could beg for him to continue. Subconsciously, you press your hips down onto his fingers, smearing the thick substance.

“Want more?” He whispers. So soft. You could whine from the gentle attention. After the repeated stinging, the coolness of welcome.

The pads of his fingers move in slow oscillations, spreading it over your clit. You flinch as it’s spread thinner, and you can feel the twist of his lips against your skin. “Guess, pet.”

You struggle, mind stumbling over itself but you come up short when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance.

“I—…" you stammer, scrambling for words. Anything. Anything will do. But what is it? He won’t be pleased if you throw out a random answer. “Honey—… honey, sir.”

His hips roll forward, and both your hands cover your mouth as he slides in. He’s coating himself in your slick, pulling out then pressing in, until he’s nestled inside of you, hips flushed tight against your ass, making your eyes roll.

He doesn’t praise you for getting the answer correct. Why would he? Out of the pots and jars that are scattered at your side, the right answer was obvious. He won’t reward you for something so minimal.

You gasp as his finger rolls over your clit, the tiny sugar granules abrading the soft, puffy skin. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as he begins pounding into you, still painfully working your clit. He’s not pressing hard enough for it to properly sting, but it’s like he’s repeatedly scraping the sharp point of his canines over the sensitive bud. Enough to keep you crying—he likes it when you cry.

His shadows wrap over your hips, eager to join the fun, to set their darkness skittering across the expanse of your skin. They brush over your nipples, silky and cold, and you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s his way of punishing you, giving you the pleasure of having him filling you up—so deliciously and it’s enough to make your eyes roll for you to beg and plead and scream for more and more and you’ll be so good so good and so pretty for him however he wants.

But he wears away at you, the honey making it a sticky mess between your thighs.

You wish it was just his hands, his hands and his cock between your thighs, then you could indulge in the deftness, the skill he carries. You could weep at the memory of it. The soft touches at the beginning of your relationship before you properly discovered one another.

Tears roll as his hand smacks down, a sharp buck of his hips accompanying the pain, easing you out. “Drift of again and we’ll see what happens.”

All you can manage are shallow pants of breath as he slams into you, touching you just perfectly. Now that you’re focusing on it—it’s kind of nice… The scrape of the granules, itching that spot, rubbing over it, with the heat and softness of his fingers.

“Stop enjoying it,” he growls lowly beside you, and your brows curve upward, beseechingly. You can tell he’s nearing that edge—then he’ll be spilling, spilling all of himself, everything he can give, all of it, spilling all of it inside of you.

You tighten around him at the low timbre of the order, making pleasure rasp beneath your skin. But then he presses slightly harder, and you flinch. So sensitive. It’s too sensitive.

“Something you want, pet?” He drawls, his hips rolling so deliciously, dragging against the spot over and over again that makes your knees weak.

You manage a weak nod, a slight dip of your head as you’re made delirious by the pain and pleasure that is twining together inside of you, reforming to something glorious. “Please—…” you gasp, his hips bucking, making it difficult for you to form any words.

“Please…?” He taunts, softening the tight rings he’s been making around your clit.

“I need—…inside me—… Please, sir!” You stammer the words between the thrusts, his shadows nipping at your chest in a way that has your head falling forward onto the counter, so well used already.

The request sets something off in the male.

Azriel pulls back, shifting to stand upright so he can put the full weight of him behind every buck, every slam of his hips as he drives his cock into you. If you’re good, if you can make it through him without releasing a sound, he can return your pleasure. But only if you obey.

And with the mess he’s creating between your legs, he hopes to the Mother you will.

Your hands press hard against your mouth, teeth biting your inner lip as you feel him spill inside of you, hot cum filling you up as he rides out the pleasure you’re giving to him. Tears spill down you cheeks with pride. You make him feel like that. You drive him mad. You make him want to fuck you over the counter first thing in the morning.

His hips draw back, and Azriel watches as his cum drips from your glossy hole, groaning at the scent. How the creamy liquid mixes with your arousal, sliding down to the honey.

He gives himself a few moments, licking his lips as he hold himself back a little longer.

Then, he’s gripping your hips, walking you over to the dinner table where he promptly picks you up, setting you down atop its surface. “You’ve been so good haven’t you?” He says, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You can feel as the atmosphere shifts with his change in demeanour, and you could cry with relief. He reads you so perfectly.

“Azzie…” you whimper, pushing against the shadows that are guiding your legs wider. He just smirks, mouth opening over your unmarked skin, eyes latching onto yours as he trails closer and closer to your centre.

A whine drags from your throat when his tongue laps over you, collecting your arousal on his tongue, his own release mixing and sweetened by the honey. He groans, eyes rolling for a moment, before he’s settling in.

Tears brim at the edges of your eyes at the sensitivity, but his tongue is so soft, and wet, and warm. Slowly lapping away the abrasive granules, until it’s just saliva and come that’s causing the mess of arousal.

“Az…” you whimper, barely managing to push from the table. “Please…please let me come.”

How can he resist.

Your flavour drives him wild. He could spend countless hours with his head between your thighs—days, even. It would be his own heaven, being able to bring you pleasure over and over, submerging himself in your heat.

That coil tightens, and you whimper, fingers tangling in his inky hair. “Azriel…” you pant, back arching. You’re so close. The thought of him cleaning that mess he’d made—

You moan, and it’s the best sound he’s heard.

“Don’t stop— Please! Please don’t stop,” you whimper, and you can feel that pleasure cresting.

He hums, suckling on your clit as he dips down, lapping up your centre, gathering your taste on his tongue as you fall apart then and there.

Beautiful. The way your hands fist, back arching, toes curling as your hips wind against him. It brings him his own pleasure, to feel you fluttering on his tongue, waves of euphoria washing your body in ecstasy.

A broken moan slips from your lips, mind flying high to the heavens as his mouth soothes you out, calming the arousal that had been begging to be unleashed on your body. He barely has a chance to stand before you’re hauling him closer—maybe his shadows shoved him forward, into you arms—mouth landing over his. Your flavours mix and moans echo through kitchen as you taste everything from his mouth.

“You’re so perfect,” you breathe over his mouth. “How are you so perfect?”

His heart aches at the words—he knows you believe them.

It has him solidifying his decision on how he wan to to spend the morning, his shadows already whisking away the stack of pancakes to your shared bedroom, his hand looping beneath you as you’re pulled to his chest.

He chuckles as your mouth attaches to his neck, teeth nipping possessively at his skin, making sure your own marks will bloom over his skin. He’s yours. No one else’s.

Never.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Azriel #Azriel shadowsinger #safeword series #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel smut #azriel fluff #shadowsinger

370 notes · View notes

woneuntonzz · 2 months

Text

competitive academic rival!eunseok x overachiever, afab!reader

“ started with a spark,¹ now we're on fire.² ” ; (2/2)

warning/s: cussing, violent thoughts

content: songfic, enemies to lovers, academic rivals, fluff, incy-wincy bit of angst, very lovey-dovey i'm actually attached, mention of other idol names for world building !!

wc: 7.4k!!

⋆⭒°｡⋆ i feel like we've made it pretty far, now we're stargazing ☄️ ; inspired by The Neighbourhood's Stargazing 🎶

It was a joke when Yunjin said Eunseok might take her place as your one and only best friend, but you figured there might be a slight truth to it. It wasn't that you'd dismiss Yunjin entirely, it's just that overtime, one instance of being project partners will become a sort of regimen for the two of you, him trailing behind you, calling out, “Partner, wait up!” as you walk to wherever you're headed.

You would still exchange playful banters —some not sounding very playful at all— and would still contest each other during class recitations, but it was all fair and square, unlike before where it'd be blood, sweat and tears, not in a literal sense of course.

“You should write this part. You're great at expressing your opinion.” This time, you two partnered up for statement writing —that supposedly was for a group of three.

“You really think so?” you tilted your head at him, jestful taunting hinted in your voice.

“Yeah. You're beautiful.”

You knew he wasn't finished speaking, but a part of you wished it had ended there.

“—your narrative I mean. If there's anything I'd like to correct, I'd say you take a little too long to get to the point, but overall your writing is great.” you nod, flailing away the lost hope in your eyes.

It's been three months since you've grown to treat each other like a friend. It was something your past selves would've never foreseen, like a switch had been accidentally turned on.

You wouldn't change a thing, though. Even if everything was only by chance, you wish it would stay till after highschool graduation, or, till all of your senses died out —till you were sure there was no way of seeing or hearing him ever again.

The thought was so unhinged for you at first, but denying is for underdogs, and you were no loser.

Considering the time you've spent with him, a big part of the blame is on him. Well how could you not blame him? when your conversations were at its tamest, he would resort to saying things that made you think more than when your history teacher would throw around riddles for you to figure out what he was trying to teach.

“You really like green? that's kind of gross.” you scoffed at his comment after he'd observe that most of the things you owned were of your favorite color.

You hold up your phone, showing the back of your fern-colored phone case. “It's fern. Maybe you're thinking about a gross shade of green —why does it matter to you anyways?”

“I just thought you'd like a different type of color, like blue.” he slightly shrugged, his eyes wandering to the keychain dangling at your bag's zipper.

“I like blue, but I see it all the time, everywhere, so my eyes are kind of tired of it at this point.” you gave him an innocent smile, one that would soon falter when he replied,

“You see me all the time, I hope you like me too.”

What kind of idiot says that? —you were determined not to emit much of a reaction, you feared it might be too much for the both of you, and that he might be just that friendly with those he considered friends. Of course I like you. —you weren't sure though, if it was only harmless feelings you'd have for a best friend, or if it was this almost electric sensation that made everything else around you fade away from the void of your mind as you isolate yourself with the thought of him.

After two weeks of somewhat careful reflecting, you realized that it was the latter.

He'd accept his feelings around the same time you did, but he most certainly caught it first. He'd tell himself that you never minded his incidental wording, not realizing just how bad he was at reading people. He just wouldn't catch the way your eyes would linger from where they last situated after he spoke because he was too afraid to look at you long enough to catch your reaction.

You were both so convinced that you did such a great job of hiding from each other, but the people around you could say otherwise.

Eunseok would start biting the inside of his cheek when Shotaro told him, “You know what you two remind me of? like a very, painfully slow basketball game.”

“Come again?” his friend laughs at him, poking fun at the confusion plastered on his face.

“She likes you too, I mean, why else would she stick around you and always be your partner?” The idea made him bite into his bottom lip, reminiscing about the way things used to be before the near fallout —the essay incident.

She's a people pleaser —but he couldn't just say that, and he knew you struggled with it too, he just wouldn't figure out why just yet. “She just finds it hard to say no to anyone.”

“Okay, partner.” Shotaro's teasing had him shaking his head.

It was something he wanted to help you with, saying no, taking care of yourself first. You kept giving and giving, it was something he never understood about you when he knew it's normal to be tired, angry, sad, and it's most certainly normal to refuse to save yourself from the anguish.

With you, he chose to be careful. He wanted you to be comfortable with him, to be ready when you finally him why you would always say yes to everyone, why you were so stubborn and so willing to give so much of your time and energy for the benefit of someone else who wouldn't even bat an eye if you got hit by a speeding truck.

It pained him to see you fake your keenness whenever Yuri, Ahra, or some other piece of shit chased after you in the hallway. They'd never directly say it, but they were basically asking you for their grades, all while you had to make sure yours were better than last quarter's results.

If you weren't taking care of yourself, he would, as much as his courage allowed him to.

The end of the school year was just right around the corner, you were busy all month preparing, elections for next year's student council were being held before the end of the year.

Eunseok was already a part of the student council, he was a public information officer, a very recognized one at that, but this time he was running for president.

He wanted you to run alongside him, as his vice president, but you were afraid that it was way beyond your limits. You have been a part of the student council before, the year he transferred in your school, you were a peace officer, but that's the farthest you've gone. You've lost elections the next year, and the current year, you lost the public information officer position to him.

Still, he was able to encourage you to run for secretary. And like he promised —though not verbally— he helped you throughout everything.

“I haven't gotten much sleep last night, sorry for drooling on your sleeve.” you lazily tried to wipe off the wet stain on his forearm that you had accidentally napped on whilst he explained something about initiatives, you couldn't quite recall.

He had actually stopped speaking when he saw the way you tried to fight your drowsiness. He felt bad for almost laughing, but the way your eyelids would shut itself and you forcing them open only to fail seconds later, he thought it was adorable.

“It's okay.” he moved his forearm, it was a signal to tell you to lie your head on it again. “You can rest.”

Your mind was still a bit hazy. You wiped your eyes and you would keep doing so, progressively becoming more forceful until he stopped you by taking ahold of your wrist. “Hey, stop, your eyes will hurt.”

He looked at them. He could almost feel your exhaustion, but even through it he could only see how lovely the color in your eyes were.

“Sorry, I was just up all night doing…” What did you do? oh, right,

“Someone else's work? don't be sorry. Give yourself a break, please.” you would lock eyes with him when he said please, his voice was pure silk, gliding through the very cracks of your soul, it almost made your eyes brim with tears.

The elections would roll around. You two would be inseparable by then, leading people to think you were running for vice president since he was with you more than he was with the actual running vice of your partylist. Even then, if they were being honest, they'd vote for the two of you. The pair of you were like a premium package in the market, two perfectly flawed individuals promoting your ambitions to the whole school.

Your confidence flourished like never before, and the stutter you always had when speaking, you were way past it. You received so much support and encouragement, not only from him, but also from your best friend Yunjin who ran for vice president and other candidates in your partylist.

You were happy with how everything was turning out, and so was he. He was confident you'd get the spot, not even caring any longer if he lost. He just wanted to see you succeed in something you've worked so hard to achieve for so long.

“I hope I get it this time. I've been beating myself up for not having enough confidence to get myself into bigger opportunities.” he heard you say to Yunjin when you were all getting ready to go home.

He didn't need to say anything because your friend was already there to assure you, but his stare was enough to tell you that he cared. He wanted you to know that he believed in you, more than you believe in yourself.

The sequel to your odyssey wouldn't be announced till the next school year began, but until then, you two would keep contact. It would start off with him popping up in your notifications with a little, hey how r u —which would shortly be followed by, it's eunseok btw.

yeah ik it's u —you laughed quietly to yourself, legs against your chest as you got comfy on your living room sofa. i alr have u saved in my contacts.

he would immediately reply, oh right

—lmao

You would subconsciously pucker your lips as you typed, whats up?

the sky? —you physically cringed at his reply, funny for being so unfunny.

bro? 😭

bro…

idk it's been two weeks

since school ended?

yeah

and it'll only take like less than a month till we're back

but suffering is for the weak 💪

right 💪

kinda miss it too

props to u for missing school ig

i meant to say you

lmao

It was normal to say things like that to your friends, you and Yunjin say it to each other when you reunite after a considerably long time of not seeing each other, so, this must be… normal, right?

that's oddly sweet of u

hbu?

same

it's not the same w/o ur annoying ass

annoying or not

i know u love my ass

eww????

Maybe not his ass.

You two would go on with your little convos every other day, that would soon turn into everyday, to every other hour, into phone calls.

would it be weird if i asked to call rn

why

u wanna?

yea

feeling lazy to type jus saying

call me then

You thought maybe you sounded too sure of yourself than you actually were, cause when he called, you fumbled, trying to fix yourself before you answered —it was pointless since it was an audio call and he won't even be able to see the pillow lining marked on your face from laying down for so long as you chatted with him.

He also had no reason to feel lazy at all, in fact the only activity he'd been up to is on his phone, talking to you. He just wanted to hear from you again, because at that point you two still had sixteen days left before you got to see each other again.

“Y/n” he spoke as soon as you picked up.

“Eunseok.” you said back, imitating his tone.

“The voting results are out, I'm looking at it right now, on my laptop.” you could almost hear him gulp before he spoke again. “We got it.”

You yelped, but rushed to cover your mouth. “Shit, is that for real?”

“Yep. It's for real alright.” his smile was wide, like the one he wore when you finally accepted his offer to be his project partner.

“Oh my fucking —thank you Seok. I love you, I love you guys so much, holy shit.” his eyes were wide open as he listened to your celebratory exclamations.

You loved him? He knew it was your utter excitement speaking, but deep down he just wished he could hear it again, just those three precious words.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Time flew by, but not like how it usually would. This time it actually seemed to be a little slower. Maybe it was because you spent the majority of your break talking to him, which you didn't even think was possible. What was even there for the two of you to talk about outside of school? you two had never gone below surface level conversations, then suddenly he was approaching you in school all smiley while holding a cup of iced coffee?

“Drink up Sleepy, my favorite dwarf.” he sounded so sweet, but it was a tease.

Suddenly your height became a topic of discussion, comparing you to one of Snow White's seven dwarfs, and he'd pinpoint the one who was most like you. Sleepy, always sleepy —and also pretty small. You weren't even that small, he was just a bit —no, he was a total tease. You'd mention it was your dad's genes, then it would turn into you telling him that you and your dad weren't really close at all.

It was a drastic shift, but he learned to appreciate the trust you've granted him by telling him those things, and he would find out about the emotional neglect that went unnoticed by you yourself.

You carefully took the cup from his hand, and with a smile you said, “Thank you, Seok.”

If back then he hid his emotions from you and everyone else, now he had his smile on full display, facing its very cause, you. He had learned how to read you now, and he knew he was getting somewhere when your voice had started to soften at certain times. Your voice that was usually dominant, almost sounding demanding in a way, he would be one of the few who would hear it completely disappear, and taking its place would be a sound he could only describe as his sweetest dreams.

Hearing you speak again in face to face for the first time after a while felt unreal almost, he felt ecstatic from your voice alone, so much so that he almost forgot that he was to be announced as student council president that day.

During orientation, you would be declared as student council secretary, and he's the president —the president who stood next to you instead of his designated place, next to the vice president. Yunjin stood where he was supposed to be, you noticed and whispered to him, “Hey, go back to your position.” but he'd just chuckle at your furrowed eyebrows. “Seok?”

His gaze was fixated on you, and it was like the whole world stopped for the two of you. “Hmm?”

“Congratulations, and, thank you. I really owe you one.” he chuckled again, and all you could see was him.

“You don't owe me anything, but thank you for trusting me, congrats Sleepy.” his smile caused your mind to almost lose itself, eyes wandering down to the glint on his lips.

Suddenly you wondered if they would feel as soft as the words he had spoken to you. You were ashamed that you would think that about your best friend, but he was thinking the same thing, eyes fixated on your velvet lips.

Nothing would come out of it, for fact, it would be as if nothing ever happened. But you both knew, the way you looked at each other was different. Heck, you could never even spare anyone else a second of eye contact. At that point, you two knew each other well enough, as opponents, and eventually as close friends. Now he just had to figure out how to know you as his lover.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

The two of you would be busy as ever and being together in those situations served as a perk, for even with the urge to just throw away your paperwork and drop out of school, you were able to continue with each other's motivation, each other's smiles, each other's voices.

—each other's touch. “Are your hands okay?”

He eyed your fingers that had green guard bandages on them. You've been writing a lot, not only for being a secretary, but also for the ridiculous amount of school work you had piled up and had to finish before the end of the week.

He was hesitant, but you kept yourself busy and it gave him a push to just go for it. Moments later, your writing would be interrupted as a hand reached out for yours.

“Rest for a while. We have plenty of time before the next period.” was all he said as he enclosed your hand in his grasp.

His touch felt warm, relieving you of the pain and the pressure everything's been giving you lately. When he moved his thumb against your skin, you just wanted to drag him with you and run away from everything and everyone.

Realization would only hit you when from a distance, you saw a few of your classmates looking at the two of you, then whispering to each other.

“Hey Y/n, I hope you're not too busy—”

“What?” Ahra had approached again, but this time Eunseok answered for you.

“Oh, I just needed help with the gen bio activity.” she eyed your linked hands.

“Right, just give me your paper, I'll sort it out for you.” Ahra handed you her activity sheet, but it was Eunseok who'd snatch it from her hand and retort,

“You people can't do anything for yourselves? Jesus.” he had an ill-tempered glare that he kept on the paper he held, but he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “If you need it so badly, I'll do It. Fifty bucks.”

“But I don't have fifty bucks on me right n—”

“Then go find someone else to pester.” he says as he hands Ahra's paper back to her.

Ahra takes it and walks away in shame, and spite. Why did he have to be there to ruin everything?

You were worried Ahra would be up to speaking ill of you to others like past classmates have done to you before, but he reassured you.

“They don't have to matter, besides, you're not obligated to take responsibility for their own.” just think about you and I —he finishes his words in his mind, not afraid to admit, but afraid to say it.

Even if he didn't say it, you were already thinking it. Because why would anything else matter when you had him and he had you. The summit of your dreams used to be these superficial things, and now it would be a future, a future of a better life, living off of pure contentment and bliss. A future together.

It would all remain unsaid, but you could feel it with each other.

Through him, you would learn to say no without much thought of the consequences all you had to think about is his fond eyes greeting you once you've successfully overcome your struggles.

And through you, he learned to be more open and considerate. He would finally see things from others' perspectives, helping him understand what he needed to do as the president of the student council, and as your…

Well, what was he to you? What were you to each other?

The label would be unclear to everyone, and to you both, but you were sure that you had something. You shared the same feelings and the same longing whenever your time with each other was cut short.

It was almost as if your only reason to go to keep attending school was to see each other and be with each other. It was easier to stick around with one another since you were both major parts of the student council, so when people asked if you two had a thing, there was only one answer.

“Well, we run the student council.” and apparently you ran in each other's minds too.

sleepy

don't force yourself to go to school tmrw ok?

but there's literally a presentation

and?

if u present with a stuffy nose and phlegm in your throat would that be any better?

no…

good

u better rest and not tire urself with ANYTHING else

oki

thanks seok :>

miss u alr lol

u know i miss u more

it's so hard to bear with these ppl without u around

see? this is why i need to go to school...

hell no

get ur ass some rest

i'll see u when u feel better <33

It was usually you who would be too sick to go to school, and he quickly picked up on your routine of going to school with allergies that'll turn into a fever by the end of the day, and you would be out of school for a day or two, and he'd always make sure to check in on you through messages or calls.

Soon enough though, he'd show up outside your house. It was a risky move, but he was always lucky enough that your parents weren't around to see him.

“You're really outside my house? Are you crazy?” you sneezed into your phone right after you spoke.

You heard his sweet chuckle from the other line. “Yeah, cutie. I have something for you, can you go down? or is there a way for me to get in? Is it through the doggy door or your bedroom window?”

Your laughter was weak due to the phlegm in your body. “Wait, wait, I'll open the door for you.”

Somehow, the thought of seeing him gave you enough energy to rush down the stairs to welcome him.

You ended the call on your phone as you opened the door, and there he was. “Hey Sleepy, looking real groggy there.”

A playful glare made its way onto your face, and he'd laugh loud enough for you to hear despite the distance.

“Can I come in?” of course you let him in.

He had about two hours before your parents came back. He got you food, very warm and comforting seaweed soup and a cup of warm lemon tea.

He watched you eat a couple bites, very slowly and feebly. He grew worried about the way you struggled with just holding the spoon up to your mouth. “May I?”

Honestly, why'd he even ask? he would do it anyway even if you refused —in this case you weren't even able to utter a reply. He takes the spoon, and feeds you, being very gentle, even wiping away some stray soup from the corners or your lips and your chin.

Luckily, you weren't too sick to miss his enamored eyes and for a moment he'd stop feeding you, wiping your bottom lip, allowing his gaze on it linger. Flustered, you'd bite down on it with the strength you had.

He chuckles, looking down for a brief moment. “You're so adorable.” —and a soft pinch to your cheek.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Your final year in highschool has finally ended. Elation coursed throughout your body when you received your medal as salutatorian, and of course, he was your valedictorian.

All those years he thought he was graduating with not much to look forward to. It was life, he graduates, and graduates again, then he'd be out making big contributions to the economy. But now, you would be in his list of aspirations, because at that point, none of you have ever thought of confessing, but still looked in each other's eyes like they were the only ones that existed.

The day of your graduation, he'd run to you —which startled you a bit— and carry you by your sides, spinning you once before settling you back down again. All you could hear was each other's laughter, and he'd engulf you in his embrace.

“We've made it pretty far.” —and you both wanted to go further, further from what you already had, a reassurance, a settlement.

You two would keep constant contact the whole time you prepared yourselves for college. It could be a miracle, or maybe it was truly meant to be —you two got into your dream university.

In all honesty, he never had a dream university. He'd only have one when he heard it from you. “Yonsei seems like a great university.” —his dream will always and only lie with you.

You spent your days talking, daydreaming about college life. You both knew it wasn't something to daydream about since it would only get harder from then, but it was driven by the thought that all this time, you would still be together. Still, none of you would outrightly say it.

“Imagine we'd get forced to drink with our seniors.” you let your phone lay close to your head on your bed as you spoke to him on call.

And to that he replied, “I'd never let that happen.”

You laughed, and it was the most beautiful song he's ever heard. He ended up laughing with you.

“I'm serious.” he adds, still laughing.

“I know, Seok. I know.”

The time would come eventually. You two would be in two different departments —he was in computer science— but fortunately, your seniors seemed to only know one place where they could pressure the freshmen to their favor.

Eunseok walks up to the table where you're at, you two have had your eyes on each other ever since you've step foot in that place.

He held onto the strap of his shoulder bag, looking into your honeyed eyes. “Let's go home.”

Everyone had their eyes on him, then on you. “Woah, woah, and who's this pretty boy? Why are you cutting our Y/n's fun so short in the night huh?”

“Y/n doesn't drink.” your seniors looked at you and you nod, keeping your eyes on him.

You extend your hand out to him, and soon you would feel sanctuary.

No other words were said as he pulled you along with him to the exit, not minding to spare the others another look. His hand still held onto yours as he walked you back to your dorm room. You were both quiet the entire time, your social batteries drained to its very limits from the orientation activities and the higher-ups pressuring the both of you to join them waste away.

Before completely letting go of you, you would both stop in front of your door, facing each other.

“See, I told you so.” you laughed at his playful jabbing.

“Okay, my firefighter. Thank you for saving me.” his eyes wandered down to your lips once again, but they would shift back up to your forehead.

He wipes the bit of sweat on it with his thumb, letting his palm slowly glide down and rest on your cheek.

“I said no, you know, but they kept insisting I come with them.” his hand went from your cheek to your chin, gently taking a hold of it.

“I know Sleepy. It's alright. It happened to me too.”

You wondered what would happen next. The tension had only grown stronger, it was only the two of you in that hallway, it was you, him and the desire dispersed throughout the silence of the halls —but nothing was salvaged from it. The looks in your eyes yearned for the feeling of each other's lips, but he held back.

His hands cupped your face, slightly squishing your cheeks together. “You kinda look like Keroppi.” a bittersweet chuckle leaves his mouth. “Good night, Y/n.”

Before he could walk away, your embrace would stop him, and he'd hug back, almost not wanting to ever let go. His hand wandered to the back of your head, gently caressing your hair.

“Good night Seok.”

That night was definitely one to remember, one that made you realize, he's always loved Keroppi, does that mean he loves me too? —maybe you were taking it too far, but it wasn't impossible. You saw it, you felt it, his amore through the feeling of his skin against yours.

Every moment you've shared with him felt like a push, just say it, just do it, but none of you would budge.

Your best friend Yunjin was in the same department as him, she didn't see you as often as he would, but when she did, she wanted to just push your faces into each other, just kiss already —she'd think to herself as she observed the two of you just being so lost in each other.

At one point you'd feel bad for not spending as much time as you used to with her, but after talking to her about it, she reassured you that she wasn't an obligation for you to worry about, but she'd always be there when you needed her, and of course you would be there for her too.

You thought you were lucky that both of your favorite people were in the same department, shared the same classes, that way it was easier for you to see them and hang out simultaneously.

Doubt would start swimming around the oceans of your thoughts —one day you were set to meet them in the campus library. Your pace was a bit speedy, wearing such a gleeful smile, you walked to meet them again after the longest week of your life. The campus library was huge, but it wouldn't take you a while to spot them.

Your first instinct was to run up to them, but maybe it was your exhaustion that had stopped you from doing so and instead just stand there for a while, watching them laugh together from a distance, and they would get so close to each other that your breath almost hitched.

You felt insecure, but also hated yourself for even allowing these feelings to surge. They're also good friends, your best friends, you were more fond of one of them for sure, but you both loved and cared for them just as much.

Your worries would subside once you were finally seated next to him. Your eyes lingered on each other's allure, it was quite clear that you two had this certain look reserved for each other.

“Oh, look. The project partners are back again.” —your harmonious laughter would fill your ears.

At first it came easy, but then it wasn't.

Being in different departments meant seeing them from afar walking side by side, and you would find that they would be together a lot more than before.

When they'd meet with you, they were together, almost all the time. At first you thought, it was easier that way for them, and for you especially.

Then love month came around. Everyone was busy preparing booths for the Feb Fair celebration. It was three days long, and everyone wanted it to be perfect, single or not, it was three days of just love, love for friends, family, for him.

Just a few days before Feb Fair started, despite your efforts of searching for him everywhere you could, sadly, your efforts would be futile.

hi seok

been looking for u everywhere

u busy? —delivered, 4 hours ago.

sorry

shit sorry

i am kinda busy

but not like usual

it's for something vv special :))

that's nice

you have any plans for feb fair?

anyone asked u out yet?

even if anyone did i would reject them lol

would u reject me then? —read, 10 minutes ago.

it's okay roppi lmaooo

tbh i'd say yes w/o u even asking

really?

so it's settled then?

you got it :3

shit

i got the prettiest date for feb fair 🙈

You seemed to have forgotten about the roots of your agitations once you've gotten a chance to talk with him again.

You made sure you would look the prettiest when you were with him. You wore a blue dress, he never said it was his favorite, but you did see it quite often in the items he owned, and some in his wardrobe.

But maybe you should've gone for green. The first day of Feb Fair, entering the area of festivities, a band playing some overrated love song would serve as soft background music for everyone else indulged in the love, it's in the air as they'd claim.

Maybe this would be the day, the day you would finally admit to each other's feelings, confess.

You walked around, taking in the luminous fairy lights, and the fake flowers that accompanied them. Even if they were artificial, they were still really pretty, and you would be the living depiction of those flowers, your dress flowing with the cool breeze as your eyes glimmered with the stars.

When he saw you, his whole world stopped. You were suddenly the only one he could see. He wished he was quick enough to rush over to you, hold your hand, but you were gone, like the wind.

You had seen him handing over a bouquet to your best friend —Yunjin, and at that moment you thought she looked so perfect that you thought your presence was unwanted.

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe he didn't mean it at all. Maybe you were only meant to be a bridge for them.

That night, you would lock yourself in your room, ignoring the calls and messages in your phone and your own roomate. You just kept yourself under your covers.

“Hey, um, Y/n, Eunseok's outside.”

“Please tell him to go away.” you cried out.

And your roommate would do just that. His heart would sink, but it was a lot worse compared to when you had first rejected his efforts of asking you as his project partner.

It was like the past all over again. There you cried all alone, then, it used to be because of an essay and his egocentric self, now it was because of a bouquet, and his fleeting promise.

He just hoped he could talk to you again.

y/n it wasn't what you thought it was

i'll explain to you when we meet again

please

i'm sorry

i'll wait for you by the water fountain tomorrow —delivered, 10 hours ago.

be my partner, please? —delivered, 30 minutes ago.

It was the second day of the Feb Fair. You were still isolating yourself in your room. You wondered where they could be. You still hadn't opened your phone so you thought, maybe they're together, like they always were.

You hopelessly sat on your bed, munching on some snacks. Suddenly it would hit you that all the food you had in your pantry was from him. Holding back your tears, you would let the packet of gummy worms fall down on your bed, with you feeling defeated.

Feeling like you needed to move, you got up from your bed, weakly opening your closet.

I should've worn the green dress. —unlike the blue one, it was more casual, and the most important detail of all, it had a cute little frog on the right chest area. You let your finger trace the frog imprint, almost tearing up again.

Closing your closet, you turned around, ready to plop yourself back down onto your bed, but your phone lit up again.

maybe tomorrow? :)) —read, 4 minutes ago.

When he saw that you had read his message, he wore a hopeful smile. Maybe, just maybe, you'd show up the next day, or maybe in the night. He promised that this time, he won't skimp on his words, he was going to tell you everything.

It was already dark, nearing 9:00 pm when he had messaged you. You were admittedly worried and guilty for making him wait till that time of the night.

Reading through his messages again, you knew you needed to show up. Because you trusted him. Trust, you almost forgot. You have given him so much of it.

The next day, you got up relatively early, at least earlier than your roommate. She'd wake up to you already dolled up.

“That's a cute dress.” she said, she had her hands against her sides, looking around for a while before asking, “Um, if you don't mind, are you and Eunseok… okay now?”

“We'll be alright.” the tiredness in your voice was still evident, and so your roommate would just give you a smile, nodding as she left to go to the bathroom.

You were going to make it right. This was the final push, you would finally tell him how you've felt about him, from the very start of it all up to now when you longed for him.

Still at the water fountain, Eunseok sat there anxiously. He sat there, and in his hand was a box. It was all, and everything he had kept of you, and if ever he lost you —and he prays to God it would never happen— he'd have your memories in this box, his most cherished ones.

6:00 pm, his eyes grew a thin layer of water as he watched everyone else with such loving eyes and sugared laughter. He looked up at the sky, and he thanked it for being so full for that night, full of glittering stars. He took it as a sign that you would come soon, because last night there were no stars at all, and you didn't arrive.

“I'll be your partner.”

He froze in his spot, stare still fixated on the constellations above him.

He stood up, bringing his gaze down to you. You eyed the box he held with both his hands, “Y/n.”

Your eyes lit up, hearing his voice emit your name very faintly. You let him walk closer to you, just enough for you to see his eyes glisten against the fairy lights.

“The flowers, well, I helped Yunjin look for them. They were meant to be for someone else, she won't tell me who. I'm guessing it might be Chaewon since she kept asking me about her, if you remember, Chaewon's my cousin.” —well shit. Isn't it just so easy to be stupid?

“Sorry.” he hurriedly used one of his hands, hesitantly reaching out for the one he's been dying to hold since the day he thought he'd lose you, for the second time.

“Don't be sorry. Please. I should've…” he glanced down at your entwined hands, your hand was cold. “... just told you that…”

Again, he'd struggle to find his words and you'd bring your hand up to his cheek, “Seok?”

“I like you and I think I'm in love with you —no, I am. I…” he was almost breathless, and you'd gently move his head to meet his soft eyes.

“Song Eunseok, I want to be your partner, in the long run, and maybe, till I can no longer write essays and make grammatical errors, will you be my partner —for life?”

Eunseok had always dreamed of going to space and seeing the shimmering little specks of wonder up-close. He knew they were just fiery rocks, but unlike him, who others would describe as still and emotionless, these rocks shined, and they were beautiful. You are so beautiful. He'd finally have a star to himself. His dreams, driven by his childhood imaginations, were coming true, in the form of you.

Finally, he would lean in, finally feeling your plush lips against his. You're as sweet as he imagined.

“Till I can no longer correct you, I'll be your partner.” he uttered against your lips.

Later that night, you two would be seated on the ground, leaning your backs against the base of the water fountain —he'd let you use his arm as a cushion for your back, well, he insisted. The fireworks had already died down, and you two were still there.

You were going through the box he had prepared for you.

“You kept this?” It was the essay, the nameless copy.

“Yeah, but look, look.”

He had written stuff all over it, and drew a bunch of Keroppis. And he had checked it like how your English teacher back then would, with one singular correction where he wrote, you missed a word miss know-it-all, doesn't matter though, i miss you more.

“When did you do this?” he watched fondly as you chuckled, reading through his little notes and doodles.

“I checked that essay the day you rejected my 'partner proposal' for the second time.” you looked at him wide-eyed.

“You… missed me then?”

“Yes?”

Then you'd see receipts of every breakfast coffee, every ice cream meeting —you never called it a date because you were just being professional, every candy packet and every wet wipe purchase he had ever made for you, all stapled together with little tmi's on them, y/n really likes green. i should buy more green shirts.

You chortled. “Don't laugh!”

“No! I just think it's really cute!”

wait holy shit, i wish i could draw well THE WAY SHE SMILED AT ME. i won. fuck everyone.

“You've liked me for that long?” looking into his eyes again, you'd melt into his loving stare.

He had been watching you smile through his sweet little shenanigans that you never would've thought he'd been up to this time. “Yes, I have.”

You bit your bottom lip, still your smile showed through it. With a gulp, you'd place a quick kiss on his lips, making him freeze once again.

With an innocent smile, you went back to rummaging through the box. “Wait, this was my favorite pen. You hid it?”

“I've been using it around you ever since I got it, I thought you'd notice.”

“I just thought you used the same brand. Shame on you, thief.”

You would laugh together for the rest of the night, reminiscing about the past, how you both hid your painfully obvious liking for each other, and then a moment of silence.

You admired the array of stars that shined throughout the body of the sky as you laid your head on his shoulder, his hand holding yours like it was its only purpose.

“Thank God Yuri plagiarized your essay.”

You playfully hit his knee, laughing out, “What do you mean?”

“Just imagine, If I never realized my feelings for you, I'd never make an effort to ask you as my project partner, and we'd stay the same, me still a jerk, and you…”

“Still saying yes to everyone? Well, that makes sense, but, what if we're really meant to end up where we are now?”

“We are meant to be, aren't we?” You felt him place a kiss on your head. “So, what's your opinion on officially being my girlfriend?”

You sat up, startling him a bit, but he'd chuckle once he saw the cheeky grin on your face. “You know how you've always taught me how to say no?”

You giggled when you saw his smile diminish.

“Well, you're no idiotic low-life, so yes, Eunseok, I'll be your girlfriend.” he leans in and hugs you, and you both fall over. “Wait what the fuck.”

“Sorry, sorry.” he helped you get up.

You would get lost in each other's eyes again, and eventually your lips were linked once more. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands on your waist. You pulled away, and you'd laugh at each other's breathless states.

“I honestly don't know why you still asked me to be your girlfriend when I asked you to be my partner for life.”

“I'm an anxious man, okay? but I just really wanted to be sure, and I wanted to ask for myself, that was the initial plan anyways, I can't believe you ruined my plan.”

“Excuse me? you seem to sound so offended now.”

“So what if I am?”

The stars were once only a tiny glimpse of hope for him, now drew the two of you. First two very distant stars, one shone blue and the other shone red, the blue star almost died, but the red star gave some of her flame, and soon they would ignite the fire they would share.

She said yes, finally. —he knew you'd ignite his flame again, and with an unspoken promise to himself —and to you, he'd grow to love you more and more, every single day.

Fin.

would you like to go back?

> take me back

> no :)) (thank you for stargazing with me)

#riize #riize au #riize fanfic #briize #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize eunseok #song eunseok #riize imagines #Spotify #songfic

89 notes · View notes

tragedytells-tales · 1 month

Note

Brooo I love your writing so much!! It’s literally so great😭 can you write the brothers (or just Lucifer and Satan if that’s too much) with a teen!mc (platonic obv) that is VERY gen z. Like if they’re able to have their phone while in Devildom then they would constantly be talking about stupid internet drama while using strange terms. They know the stuff they say is weird but that just encourages them to be even more unhinged and chaotic. I just thought it’d be funny :) thanks if you decide to do this!!

"I hear you loud and clear! My apologies for this taking so long, I was only able to come up with something for Lucifer and Satan."

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

Lessons in cringe culture

Notes - Teen!MC, Headcanons, Shitpost, comedy just pure comedy

Characters - Feat. Lucifer and Satan

Summary - MC has a few ideas on how to make these ten million years old demons more modern. Are they good ideas? Who knows and who cares

Warnings - Not proof read

TW - None

Lucifer:

[ New word to vocabulary - Gyatt ]

- So MC teaches him gyatt. And not actually on purpose, but not on accident either. They had the thought of saying it out loud around him just to see if it would be a good enough substitute for "god" that they could say it without almost smiting the Avatar.

- They had the thought about a week ago and completely forgot about, but they couldn't just sit there silently when they got jumpscared by the newest update to celestialdrop Valley

"You can now drink mayonnaise."

- Either way he is scared of teenagers of MCs variety because he was sitting in pure silence, minding his whole business while MC did something on their phone, until suddenly they screamed from the top of their lungs

"GYATT DAMN?! LEVI YOU WON'T BEEEEELIVE THIS!"

- Not only did they startle him out of his old ten million years aged bones, and dared to swear in his presence, but then before running to show Levi whatever it was that sparked this outburst MC turned to him and asked

"Are you all good?"

"...Yes? Why would I not be?"

- They give him the most evil of smiles before leaving. The smile was so evil that it sent shivers down his spine, for a human it was a devilish little smile that he knew meant nothing but trouble.

- The things he'd give for a single one of his technically adopted family to be normal ( <-- He literally handpicked everyone in the house, and he's no better but he's also the oldest so )

- He asks MC about it later and gets a proper explanation, only thing is that now he can't ground them for the improper use of language because the use of "gyatt" was surprisingly clever and smart

- Damnit MC, stop getting the braincell!

- He genuinely starts using it in secret whenever he wants to say "goddamn", he dare not utter it around his brothers lest they start bullying him

- Jokes on him, he gets drunk and slips up in the group chat!

Satan:

[ New phrase to vocabulary - It's my turn with the braincell! ]

- Speaking of. One would think that because he reads so many things and has so much knowledge and is technically the youngest of his brothers that he would know at least a bit of funky phrases

- He does. He knows Devildom phrases specifically. But he's also stupidly smart, smart stupid if you will, so he takes things MC sometimes says a tad to literal

- So imagine his surprise when they say "Hey, it's my turn with the braincell. I need it for algebra, hand it over!!!" While studying with their friends

- If you imagined very, very surprised then you are correct

- Aka: he's worried about the amount of concussions MC must've had for them to lost so many brain cells that they need to borrow and take turns with them from others

- He would've also questioned where and how they’re getting the brain cells they’re borrowing if he weren't so concerned in the first place

- He genuinely asks them what kind of brain cells are they missing to see how he can help

- They tell him "My brother in christ, I'm simply jesting about" and now he thinks MC is a sickly Victorian child with a lack of brain cells who got cursed

- Congratulations MC, you've tricked the smartest person in the house, but at what cost?

- The cost of him texting the group chat that MC has lost brain cells and needs to borrow some, that's what. All because they're too busy laughing to properly explain, and now Levi and Belphi are clowning on everyone else because they ALL fell for it too

- The price of living with beings who are over ten million years old is a steep one

- He steals the phrase and instantly starts telling his brothers to borrow brain cells btw, he's adapting

- He's been stealing phrases from MC for a while now, but this one is his favorite

- ( They taught him "fuck this thing, fuck that thing, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool-" last week, they’re not allowed to be friends anymore )

AN - The idea of teaching Lucifer "gyatt" made my lungs hurt, but then the thought of Asmo learning "down bad", Beel learning "bussin", and Mammon learning "L + Ratio + you fell off + fatherless" also made me lose it. I just wasn't sure how to go about that. ( Also thanks for the compliment!!! I hold it ever so gently,,, )

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #om lucifer #om satan #obey me shitpost #obey me teen mc #[ 📜 ] requests

67 notes · View notes

kallesque · 2 months

Text

the conflict of the mind — three.

cws // none for now (does dottore count as his own warning?)

╰┈➤ dottore x reader: in other words, new meetings. FIC MASTERLIST HERE.

𖤐 “I met Delta earlier,” you affirm, remembering the razor-edged teeth, the flash of pink silk at his neck. Hangman hands closing in on your shirt collar. A shiver traverses the length of your spine and the Dove notices it.

“Ah, that one,” she says, and you can’t quite parse the undercurrent in her voice when she says this— is it fondness? Irritation? Amusement? “He leaves quite the impression, doesn’t he?”

“That’s certainly a way to describe it,” you concur.

Nothing in your life has gone quite as planned for the last month or so. This fact further drives itself home a few days later when the door to Dottore’s laboratory slides open and you’re yanked in before you can even knock, still halfway through executing the action. You trip over your feet in a panic from the sudden blur of motion, the hand on your collar hauling you upright before you can tumble over embarrassingly.

It’s too early in the day for this. Your heart is hammering too fast and you’ve had it. “Lord Harbinger, is your frequent manhandling of me going to become a habit? Because I—”

“Prime allows you to speak to him like this? My.”

A shiver traipses down your spine and mangles the words on your tongue as you freeze. This voice, familiar yet not— you’re reminded of dissonant chords, arguments overheard down the hallways at night.

When you raise your head, the spark of outrage that flares within you is extinguished in an instant. Instead of the tapered bird mask you’ve grown accustomed to, this one covers his entire face save for the red eyes that bore into your, unblinking. His hair is styled differently, shorter and curlier than what you remember… and the clothes he dons are in a completely different taste from what you’ve seen Dottore wear.

But it’s the same pale hair, the same cadence— though there’s a certain quality of his tone, something shamelessly unhinged in comparison to the arrogant menace that outlines the contours of your patron’s voice. You can see half of his mouth through the bizarre mask, and his teeth are sharper— edges pointed like a shark’s.

You make eye contact and immediately flinch.

Does he also have…?

“You’re not him,” you say rather lamely, pausing as you try to disentangle the fabric of your shirt collar from his white-gloved grip. To your chagrin, he doesn’t let you go.

He lets out a crazed giggle at your disoriented expression and it wreaks pandemonium on your nerves the same way the unpleasant screech of a bow drawn over strings before rosin has been applied would. “Yes I am.”

You must look even more confused now because he lets you go and moves closer at the same time, drawn to your unease like blood in the water.

You take a wary step away and he closes in. “Where’s Dottore?” you bite out, words curt as alarm rises in the dark of your throat.

“I am Dottore.” You can’t identify any trace of a lie in those deranged eyes, but you’re nonetheless sceptical. “Just not yours, though.” He grins as if he’s just overheard a great joke, but all you feel is danger.

Your gaze scans the room for an exit, trying not to flinch. Something tells you that such a reaction would only spur him on, and you’re a little sick of this perplexing charade— but then he closes in and the backs of your thighs hit the desk, cornered.

“I called him a fool for this, you know,” he tells you. He’s not touching you, but you still feel trapped like a prey animal in the jaws of a beast. His presence is unpredictable and he’s even more difficult to read by way of sheer uncertainty.

Mad, your mind supplies, which isn’t a reassuring thought.

“But I had to come and find out for myself, and now that you’re here, I see it. I do want to…”

He trails off, breaking into another round of snickering. You don’t know what he’s talking about. You don’t know anything, and you’re not sure you’d like to.

“Delta.” Dottore is standing in the doorway to his office, seemingly having just emerged. His voice is scathing.

It comes as a warning but relief slams into you as you’re suddenly given room to breathe, inching away from him— Delta, apparently, who raises his hands in mock surrender. “I was merely curious,” he scoffs. “They’re a pretty little thing, too. Is that what you see?”

“Back to work.” Dottore orders without a single sign of acknowledgement towards the latter’s comments. His tone is final, and the other backs down, obeying with a sneer.

Maybe this really is going to become a standard occurrence, you think to yourself when Dottore’s fingers close around your wrist and he tugs you into his office.

The pads of Dottore’s fingers are rough on your skin as he kneads into your wrist again, the caustic heat from the contact twisting through you once more. You want to cower away from the feeling. You want to let it burn you at the stake.

“Does this hurt?” His touch drags over a sore spot and you hiss at the twinge of discomfort that jabs at you. He’s merciless as he works into it until the pain dulls and you exhale, nerves still frayed and tender.

You still have no idea why he’s doing this, insistent on treating you every day. You want to ask what benefit you pose to him, what he could ever gain from the patronage, if you were going to end up as another subject on the dissection table—

Instead, you say, “I have questions.”

“I expected as much,” he responds, not looking up. “Go on.”

“Who was that?”

“Delta.” The corner of his mouth curves up as he responds deadpan, secretly amused. Your eyes narrow.

“No, I know, but—” you try to gesture with your dominant hand and realise that he’s still holding it down, grip vicelike but not abrasive. “He said he was you, but not you.”

“He’s a Segment.” You stare at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and Dottore goes on. “Simply put, a piece of myself plucked from one of the varying states of my life, given individual consciousness and thought.”

You raise a brow, but you think you can follow. “He called you Prime, earlier.”

“I am the original, the prime,” he tells you, taking your other wrist and beginning to work on that in turn. “The creator.”

You think of red eyes and the subsequent insanity caged within, the remorseless slice of a scalpel through helpless flesh.

“I see.”

If that’s the case, haven’t you found yourself in a den of wolves? Out of the frying pan and straight into the fire— another thought strikes you.

“This implies that there are more of you, then?”

You twitch as he digs into a nerve, holding back a gasp. “Yes, there are more. You may run into them occasionally.”

The way he says it implies discontent, as if it’s an unfortunate fact—

“But remember this, Composer,” He drawls, acerbic and sharp, “You report to me.”

You wonder if the way his voice dips low like a promise can be interpreted as possessive.

“Yes, Lord Harbinger.”

For all his previous words about how he’s not going to eat you alive, he certainly smiles like he’s about to. “Good.”

Technically, Dottore hasn’t forbidden you from leaving the palace. You’ve just been too wrapped up in a daze of fatigue and stress to think about doing anything else for the last month, and now that the Harbinger has ordered you off playing your instruments until your wrists have recovered, you have far too much free time on your hands. Your passing days have been spent reading and revising your old notes and music scores, but lethargy is beginning to settle into your muscles and you’re itching for a change of scenery.

You recall that the strings on your cello are wearing out. There’s a music store in the nearby village that you can get to on foot, and the salary he continues to pay you even as you’re laid off from playing is far more than enough to cover the expenses. It’s settled, then.

Your eyes sweep over your hands, noting the writer’s callus on your middle finger and the ink stain on your palm, somehow lingering longer than yesterday’s blood. The etchings of your cello’s strings are still raw and tender to the touch when your fingertips brush anything, crisscrossed over old scars of the same design. Perhaps you should buy some ointment as well, for the healing. A musician should have well-kept hands and you’ve never truly cared much about the nuances of this knowledge before— but now you have a patron, and he’s the Second Harbinger. You need to remember that.

Once you’ve bundled yourself up and made sure that you’ve obtained all you need for your errand, you slip out of your room and meander down the hallways. It takes you a few wrong turns and doubling back before you find the exit, but you’re halted by the Fatui guards before you.

“On what business are you departing from the Palace?”

You know it’s standard protocol, really nothing personal, so you’re nervous but steady when you respond. “A personal errand,” you tell them, hoping it’s enough.

Unfortunately, it's not. “Under whose command?”

Anxiety constricts your vocal chords and you hesitate a beat too long to escape suspicion. You wonder if Dottore would mind you using his name for such a small thing, but you hate going off uncertainties—

“They're with me.” Someone’s hand wraps around your shoulder and pulls you into them, but where you expect light hair and a baritone voice, you’re met face-to-face with Columbina, the Third Harbinger. You barely have time to stutter your acknowledgement before she’s sweeping past with you in tow.

Columbina’s smile is sweet and her touch is gentle when she leads you out of the Palace, but you have the inkling that she’s not helping you out of mere goodwill and that whatever she wants, she will obtain.

“My lady,” you begin, and she laughs, the sound blithe and airy. “Why, you delight me with your honorifics! No wonder our Second likes you so.”

Your mind slows to a crawl at that, trying to process the information. “He, he doesn’t— huh?”

“Oh, don’t play the fool,” she admonishes, voice lilting and sweet as a melody. Somehow, your limbs loosen at the sound of it, and tension leaves your shoulders. “You’re his little composer. I’ve heard all about you.”

“You… have?”

The Damselette nods and the seraphim wings on her head flutter excitedly. “But not enough— there are some things I’d prefer to learn from the source themself! Tell me, little bird, where are you headed off today?”

You remain wide-eyed, syrupy daze blanketing your senses like golden honey. Still, you manage to relate the details of your errand to her and tell her your name. Columbina insists on accompanying you on your tasks, and you’re not sure if this spells disaster or not— but there’s little you can do to protest, allowing her to loop her arm into yours as she speaks to you as one would an old friend.

Still, you can’t shake the crawling sense of disquietude that settles over you in her presence. Your mind seems to settle into a state of calm, too docile, too abnormal from your usual racing thoughts. You don’t sense malice from the Dove— but you’ve heard rumours about her lack of mortality and you suspect that it has a part to play in the half-stupor you’re draped in.

She talks to you all the way to your destination and watches inquisitively as you select and pay for the cello strings you’d needed. It’s all lighthearted chatter— you feel as if she’s trying to lull you into a sense of calm as she regales you with her tales, tidbits of palace gossip that make you giggle softly and promises of tea together in the future. It’s only when you’re heading back to the Palace does she finally expose the core of her curiosity.

“Tell me about him,” Columbina urges, practically promenading at your side from how light her steps seem. You notice that she’s barefoot, silk ribbons winding up her ankles and legs. Despite the snowy wasteland that freezes around you both, the Damselette pays it no heed, skin porcelain-perfect and unscathed by the cold. You can’t help but marvel at her.

“Shouldn’t you know him better than I do?” you ask. “I was under the impression that the Harbingers worked together.”

She laughs and it’s the sound of windchimes, crystal-clear and mellifluous. “Yes, little bird,” she says agreeably, “but I want to know about how he treats you.”

You rack your brain, trying to muster up a reply. “He’s… okay, I guess.”

Columbina tilts her head, encouraging you to elaborate. You heave a sigh.

“When he took me on as my patron,” you continue, “I expected him to be far more… restrictive with his expectations of my work, but so far he’s allowed me to work with only my own creativity as the limit. Except…”

You crack your knuckles, a nervous reflex. The motion of it grounds you, gives your hands something to do as you twist your fingers into each other and fidget. “…I got a little carried away, that first month,” you admit sheepishly, “and he’s forbidden me from playing until my wrists heal.”

The wings on her head twitch in something you’d call curiosity as she angles her head towards you. “Forbidden?”

Why is she smiling? This is the second time today that you feel as if you’re witnessing a secret joke that you’re not privy to.

You tell Columbina vaguely about Dottore’s treatment of your hands and wrists, leaving out the details. Somehow, the memory of his fingers pressing into your skin makes you shudder. Do you fear him so much, that even the mere thought of that scares you?

Like the Second, Columbina’s eyes are veiled— behind lace instead of metal— yet she regards you knowingly, as if she knows something you don’t. “Interesting,” she chirps, “so very interesting, little bird. Have you met the others?”

You raise a brow. “The other Harbingers? It’s only been you and him, so far.”

“Oh, no, I meant the other versions of him, though I’m delighted to have gotten to you before my co-workers. If only I’d found you before Dottore had…”

For the sake of your own sanity, you decide to take her latter statement as a joke and your laugh joins hers, bright in the afternoon air. “I met Delta earlier,” you affirm, remembering the razor-edged teeth, the flash of pink silk at his neck. Hangman hands closing in on your shirt collar. A shiver traverses the length of your spine and the Dove notices it.

“Ah, that one,” she says, and you can’t quite parse the undercurrent in her voice when she says this— is it fondness? Irritation? Amusement? “He leaves quite the impression, doesn’t he?”

“That’s certainly a way to describe it,” you concur.

“And did your Doctor say anything of it?”

You ignore the twitch of your fingers when she calls him yours; Delta had done the same earlier. “He reminded me that my patronage was under him, and only him.”

An enigmatic smile flashes across her face, pearly teeth showing. “He never did seem like the type who shared.”

“Huh?” Once again, you’re left in the dark.

“No matter,” Columbina disperses it with a flutter of feathers. “Why don’t you take me to your music room, little bird? I’d love to see your instruments, even if you can’t play for me today.”

Agreement comes to your lips easily and she’s delighted— the Damselette sweeps you up into a whirlwind of conversation once more and you let yourself be drawn in. It’s only when you’re back in the Palace and navigating the hallways back to Dottore’s wing that you realise that you’ve completely forgotten to to buy the healing ointment for your fingers.

Columbina’s company is not an unpleasant one, you conclude. It’s undeniable that she’s a little overwhelming and you have the intuitive feeling that crossing her would be an incredibly foolish decision— but conversation flows easily between the two of you and you’re content enough. Perhaps it’s just a testament to how starved you are of human interaction— it’s been weeks since you’ve had any of it, save for your few exchanges with Dottore.

The Dove sits on your piano bench, mouth open in song. It’s fitting considering her title, you think— the sound of her voice fills the room and holds you captive, silvery and resonant. In all your life, you’ve never heard anything like this— like her, spellbound as you listen, enthralled as you restring your cello.

The case is laid open on the polished floors of the music room. You’re kneeling over the neck of the instrument, fingers twisting the tuning pegs to drop the tension of the string. Once it loosens, you tug it from the pegbox and do the same to the fine tuners, extricating the string completely.

The hem of your shirt goes to wipe at the fingerboard absently as you select the new string, fingers running over the grooves of the instrument’s bridge before you fit it in, tightening it with the pegs. You repeat the process with the other three strings, and Columbina’s voice swoops low, concluding in tandem with your task so that you can tune the cello.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you begin hesitantly, but she’s already nodding and the note you need spills from her throat, lilting. You draw the bow over your strings as you match the pitch to hers, the rest of the strings tuned in falling intervals from the first

You sit up, gathering the discarded strings up and returning your instrument to its case, quietly satisfied.

“Do you sing, little bird?” Columbina asks. You pause.

“At times,” you respond cautiously, leaning back on your haunches, hands folding in your lap.

She clasps her hands together, feigning a swoon. “We must hear you then.”

Suddenly self-conscious, you’re thinking of a gracious way to evade her cajoling when you sense another presence at the door, one you instantly recognize as your spine stiffens.

“Doctor, how lovely,” Columbina croons, unperturbed. “Your little musician was about to sing for us.”

You instantly protest. “N-no, I wasn’t—”

He steps closer and his shadow slides across the floor, fluid as it settles over you and blocks the light behind his looming figure.

You’re made to tilt your head up to look back at him— and then you realise what he’s staring at, rushing to explain. “I was just replacing my cello’s strings, I didn’t play…” you mutter. “Much.”

His head cocks to the side, judgemental. “Is the issue your excess of free time, Composer? I can always keep you busy if that’s the case.”

The memory of red flashes in your vision and you’re nauseous for a moment, mouth going dry.

“Stop that,” Columbina chides. “You’ll frighten the poor thing.”

Dottore shifts his attention to her, wings fluttering all around her head. “Damselette,” he intones dryly, a hint of sarcasm in the reply. “Is it too much to hope that you stay out of my affairs?”

“Far too much,” she responds, syllables spilling from her tongue like birdsong. “You always accuse me about my meddlesome nature. Isn’t it lovely to be right?”

“You can turn anything into a curse, you harpy,” he grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. Columbina laughs soft and low, hopping off the piano bench where she'd perched. She takes off in a flutter before you can blink twice and you’re left alone with the enigma who had shifted the scope of your entire life within a few weeks. Your fault, perhaps, for signing the devil’s deal.

You regain yourself, latching the case of your instrument shut and valiantly ignoring how you’re still kneeling before Dottore, tension building. “Lord Harbinger, did you come for anything?”

“Dinner,” he reminds you simply, and your eyes widen. He's right, it is evening and whatever little sunlight there is in Snezhnaya is already dimming into twilight; you can see it through the window.

A gloved hand is offered to you before you can scramble to your feet awkwardly. You eye it dubiously before you place your hand in his and allow him to help you up.

You gasp as his hand slides further up your arm— so as not to jostle your wrist— and Dottore pulls you forward sharply into him. You stumble and barely avoid colliding into his shoulder, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. You attempt indignation over the invasion of your personal space, but he's far too close for you to pull out all the stops and you're trying to remember how to breathe. “What was that for?”

He shifts, dipping his head so that his lips are at your ear and his voice rolls over you in a shiver, makes you think of a Dionysiac melody, ritualistic madness and religious ecstasy.

“Just to let you know,” he hums, “The offer remains open. You do seem to have a terrible habit of neglecting yourself whenever I leave you to yourself.”

( It’s a hypocrital thing to say, he knows. But in the face of all the alterations he’s made to himself, his reliance on things like sleeping and eating is far less detrimental, barely a cause for concern. You, on the other hand… )

His fingers loosen and you back away to recreate the distance between you, visibly rattled. Your mouth spreads into a thin line, eyes darkening beneath the guise of something unreadable as you glare at him, accusatory. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you.”

It takes every grain of your self-control to remain deathly still when he chuckles, stamping out the shudder that threatens to shake you to the core. “Doing what exactly?”

You fight for articulation, but your mind features only a rising dissonance, notes crashing into each other as you try for words. “Well, I— you know.”

“Let’s say I was doing whatever you’re accusing me of,” he taunts, voice thick with sarcasm. “Is it working?”

You drawn yourself up a little straighter, more rigid. “No.”

The answer is curt, firm, but you read disbelief in the curl of his lips and the flash of his teeth. You don’t realise that you’re staring at his mouth, noting how his teeth are blunter than Delta’s yet hold their own jagged sharpness. Once more, you recall him saying he wouldn't eat you alive, but he could. Carmine irises flash through your mind again and terror licks you down to the bone from the inside out.

He grins when he catches the expression on your face. “Are you scared of me, Composer?”

“No.”

“Liar,” he hisses. Razor-sharp, the smile that widens upon his visage is savage by nature, the embodiment of a demon by design. You know that all the efforts you’ve brought to the table in an attempt to leverage an edge for yourself pales in comparison to the beast before you. “You do fear. You fear me.”

And you can’t look away, because Dottore’s presence rewrites the gravitational pull of your attention whenever he so much as shares a space with you. Magnetic the same way a black hole draws stars towards it, shredding and consuming them with singleminded ruthlessness. Its very nature demands to devour, and you aren’t sure that his own doesn’t follow suit.

To your credit, you manage your terror remarkably well, diminishing it into something that you can swallow back down. Once you understand that denial isn’t an option you can sell convincingly, you resign yourself. “Perhaps,” you admit to him, “but I hope to never reveal the extent of that fear to you.”

“And why is that?” Wicked curiosity meets you with an inquiry, and you square your shoulders firmly.

“You just don’t seem like a very good person to trust, Lord Harbinger.”

He actually laughs at that, and some of the tension between you melts away. “Smart little thing you are, aren't you.”

The dark sky arcing overhead beyond the window seems to bring him back to his original aim in arriving here— when Dottore offers his arm to you in a mockery of courtesy, you take it and allow him to walk you to his office as you rearrange your face back into careful neutrality.

“I don’t like liars,” the Harbinger says abruptly on the way, and you make a mental note of the minute detail, tucking it away. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

As you lapse into silence, Dottore’s eyes slide to the still-healing wound on your cheek and he stifles a huff of amusement at how you take in the information, a performer ever-so-eager to please.

Even away from your music, you are just so entertaining.

find me on ao3 here!

#♡. kal's kitchen #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore x you #TCOTM #genshin impact x reader

65 notes · View notes