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#I’m sorry I disappeared for like over a month
melrodrigo · 2 days
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music nerds
Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.
A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.
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It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.
“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.
“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.
He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.
When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.
You sigh softly, shaking your head.
Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.
You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.
You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.
They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.
Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.
You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.
Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.
“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.
“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.
“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.
It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.
You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.
“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.
She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.
She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.
You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.
“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.
She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.
Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!
You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.
“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.
You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.
You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.
“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.
“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.
She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.
“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.
“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.
“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”
She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.
“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.
Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.
You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.
“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.
You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.
“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”
She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.
“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.
“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.
She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.
When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.
“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.
You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.
You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.
“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.
Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.
You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.
She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.
But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.
You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.
“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.
It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.
You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.
She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.
“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.
“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.
You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.
“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.
You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.
“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.
His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.
“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.
“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.
You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.
“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.
“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.
You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.
“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.
You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”
“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.
For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.
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random-posts680 · 2 days
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•I knew you’d be back•part 2
Part one here: https://www.tumblr.com/random-posts680/748793779031605248/dont-come-looking-for-me-part-1
A/N: guys holy moly I’m so sorry it took me an eternity to finish this but I hope you like it!
Warnings: maybe spelling errors, killing, death, royal family after reader, Feyd, blood, arena fights
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Your hair was sprawled out as you laid on your back, it casted over the sheets of Feyds bed. Your arms were comfortably crossed over your ribs. And Your feet dangled off the edge.
Feyd mostly matched your position as he laid next to you. His arm closest to you layed out in the space between both your bodies. He itched to wrap it around you and pull you closer to him.
But unfortunately, how things were currently was as close as he was going to get. He wished to be something more with you, but even just being close at your side as friends kept him content. Silence filled the room before you inhaled to speak.
“Do you miss me?”
Completely taken aback by your question, Feyd turned his head to the side to look at you. His face contorted into an unusual look of concern. Your face stared at the nothingness of his ceiling until your eyes snapped to the side and your head slightly followed
There was no answer from him. He looked from your eyes down longingly at your lips then back up. You were unreal to him, something otherworldly, you were the most beautiful being he’d ever seen, and the most important to him as well. When he came out of his thoughts he looked back to you. Your face still awaited an answer.
“Why would I need to, when you’re right here?” His voice is gentle but still holds a bit of his rasp. Before you thought of an answer Feyd inhaled and continued “And I’ll never have to, I won’t let anyone take you from me.” There was that murderous gleam in his eyes that you’ve seen a handful of times. It was never directed towards you, god never, Feyd-rautha couldn’t stand the thought of you getting injured by his own hands, and it filled him with rage thinking of it being by somebody else’s.
You smiled at him, seemingly grateful at his answer and promise of protection. He returned your smile and inched ever so slightly towards you. His eyes trailed around the features of your face, they stop at your lips once again. This didn’t go unnoticed by you. You glanced down at his pale lips in return. Your faces began to invade the gap between the both of you.
Feyds arm reaches up and his cold smooth hand cups your face and pulls you in. His body heats up at the contact initiated. You close your eyes….and so does he.
Feyd-rautha twitches awake.
His mind recalls the images produced from his sleeping state. He remembers the odd question you asked him and his heart rate picks up when he recollects the end of the fantasy. It was like this most nights. Dreams and visions of you invading his mind, moments he’s had with you and moments he had wished to have with you.
The harkonnen desperately wants you back. It has nearly been 6 months since you seemingly disappeared without a single trace of where you may have gone. You aren’t dead, that is all that Feyd-rautha knows. And it keeps him determined to find you.
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Your ship wasn’t anything fancy. It could stay in space for long periods of time and is undetectable under any radar. It keeps you hidden, and that’s what you need most, especially now.
When you were found out to be residing on Giedi prime, you knew you had fucked up. You remember being awoken by your com that night ringing loudly. Once you groggily picked up, the call consisted of only a few sentences before you were on your feet and moving.
“Y/n, they’ve found you, you need to leave now! We have a ship ready for you at these coordinates!” The lady spoke on the other end. The coordinates were then listed on the screen.
You were grateful for the people at your job who were working to protect you from those who were out to hunt you, they believed in doing the right thing so when they discovered you floating through space, you told them your story and they took you in and offered you a job and their protection.
The truth is, you were the next Queen of your house, the standards for that queen were specific and high, one of the most important being you would need to be able to give birth to an heir. So from a young age you were tested for fertility so you could begin training, learning, and one day be married and give birth to an heir.
That was never fate.
A few weeks before you were to be married a freak accident occurred and it left you injured and to your houses dismay, infertile. Now, in most scenarios it wouldn’t have mattered if you were infertile but in your line of royalty there was information that could take down the entire nation of your planet that only a fit queen and king were supposed to know, and you were no longer of that standard of a fit queen due to your infertility.
You knew everything, and you were no longer going to be queen. This left them to having no choice. They were going to kill you and then begin training a different female relative of yours.
You were smart enough to realize their plans for you, so the night you found out of your infertility, you left. You knew they’d be after you the moment they realized you were gone.
Similar to when you ran away from your home planet you left most of your stuff on Giedi prime. Your heart ached a bit at the thought of leaving behind the good friend you had made here. You knew you couldn’t do anything about it so you at least gave him some attempt at closure when you scribbled down the note that he would later find. You’d miss him and he’d miss you ten times more. It’d drive him mad.
Along with the note that he found he also noticed his missing blade which brought you to the night prior. feyd had been showing you his collection of blades, you knew you shouldn’t have but you took one, you knew that someday your family would find you here and you wanted to be prepared. You hid the blade and as if you had foreseen the event, the very next night was when you would need to make your escape.
You dropped the note into one of your notebooks and slid the blade into your belt. You found the designated coordinates, and there your ship was. It hovered above the ground just enough for you to climb inside. You remeber looking back into the Giedi prime night, hoping that feyd-rautha would follow the one demand on that scribbled piece of paper.
Life after leaving wasn’t easy. You had plenty of battles and worked hard on combat training. The hardest part about leaving though was being away from feyd. You really did miss him. You cherished the moments you two had together and they often replayed in your sleep. With each day your desire to see him again grew.
Which led you to now, 6 months later, you are back, hovering just off of the atmosphere of the black and white planet. You know it’s a horrible idea to pay this visit but you need to see Feyd. The way you left him haunted you, you know you were his only form of support and you just up and left without any warning. You owe him the knowledge that you are sorry and willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to him.
You wonder what he is doing now, you wonder if he ever found that note, you wonder if he’d even cared that you’d left. You wonder if he’s missed you as much as you’ve missed him.
‘What ever he may think, I’ll find out myself’ you think, as your hand pushes the steering mechanism forwards. You ready yourself to enter Giedi prime once again. You flip the switches and type in your coordinates for landing. You push and your ship begins to fall into the planets gravity.
———————————————————————
Feyd-Rauthas arms are outstretched. His muscles exposed to the air within the threshold. Servants gather around him, painting the black shapes over his nearly white skin.
Ever since you left, this has been his only source of enjoyment. Killing those drugged slaves in the arena. His only way to cope with your disappearance.
Once his servants are done, he is handed his blade. The nervous harkonnen male avoiding heavy eye contact as he presents them. Feyds hands graze the tip of it and his reflection can be seen in its polished surface. Every time the blade is brought out he thinks of you and how somewhere in the galaxy you posses the missing one from his collection.
Feyd dismisses his servants, at this they all rush out, desperate to leave the presence of the na-baron. Unfortunately for the last servant to leave, the harkonnens blade penetrates her. The sharp object colliding with flesh sounds about 8 times before the sickening sound of a body against the ground follows.
Feyd-rautha walks out of his chamber Hungry for more meaningless gore. He scans the hallway, waiting for the next person to cross his path. Only about 10 seconds pass before a veiled being in all black turns the corner. Their back turned to him as they continue to walk.
The harkonnen smirks and follows quietly in pursuit. His presence going completely unnoticed by the target. Feyd-rautha readies his blade.
He grips onto the persons shoulder and pushes his blade straight to their jugular. Before he makes his next move, the person speaks.
“I thought you’d be here.” Your voice sounds through his ears.
Feyd-rauthas heart skips a beat, His knees almost go weak, and his hands begin to shake. Y/n? Is it really you? But It can’t be you, you left him without any indication of coming back, how could this be you? How could you have come back? The harkonnens mind races rapidly and his grip loosens.
With that, you slip out of it and turn to face him. You unveil yourself. Feyd-Rauthas heart races and his chest rises and falls unsteadily. His eyes stare down at you taking in the features he had missed so much. It really is you.
As Feyd stands awe struck You wonder what to do. It wasn’t like you could act casual ‘hey, I’m back after abandoning you for months and not telling you where I went!’ That would be arrogant and disrespectful. You know you owe him an explanation as to why you left but right now you are at a total loss for words.
His eyes hold hints of desperation and excitement yet his face displays utter disbelief. You wait to see if he’ll say anything but moments go by and he doesn’t. You take it upon yourself to speak first but regret it instantly when the sentences tumble out of your mouth and merge.
“Feyd-rautha-my lord, I’m terribly sorry that I left..-I I do have an explanation-“
You are cut off by his hands gripping you arms and pulling you into him. You look up at him before he connects your lips. His kiss is deep and full his hands are desperate as they go from your arms to your hair to push your face further in. You deepen the kiss too, making Feyds body warmer as you both stand.
After many seconds you both pull away for air. You’re shocked to say the least, as for the harkonnen he stares at you with desire, his eyes roaming you and his hands now feeling your waist, pulling you closer against his muscular torso.
“I’d like that explanation, we shall talk about it in my room. I will cancel my arena fight.” His voice is low and full of contained urgency. His heart hammers in his chest and it’s as if nothing else matters. You have finally come back to him.
He can’t take his eyes away from you as he leads you to his room. Once you two are there your lips meet once again and he’s ready to live out all the things he’s dreamed of knowing that you’re ready too. You love him and that’s all he’s wanted since the second he had met you.
Feyd-rautha is never going to let you leave him again, especially now. Your entire family and their army could come after you and he would be at the front line defending you with his life.
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Tag list: @freyagallileaevans
@saturnhas82moons
@flower-frog
@ruyaas-world
@aoi-targaryen
@gay-mashroom
@lechat-rouge
@alexa4040
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irisbleufic · 2 days
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Of all the bullshit I never expected to be back on with the same intensity of October through December of 2000, Beetlejuice was not it. But I finally got to see the musical yesterday, and the part of me that has adored all 94 episodes of the animated series from the moment I started watching them on ABC Saturday mornings in 1989 just fucking flared—this fond, awful tightness in my chest. It’s the first TV show I ever imprinted on; it’s been with me since childhood. Surreal.
About 4 years into watching the cartoon, I finally saw the live-action movie that the cartoon was based on. I hated it, because it was so malevolent and empty compared to the incredible world-building characters in the animated series. Serious shout-outs to Stephen Ouimette and Alyson Court for all that stunning, hilarious, and often moving voicework.
Now, okay, I need to go back to 2000 again to make this all make sense. I’d watched the show from 1989 until whenever the 4th season ended. It wasn’t until I was in my first semester of college, newly transplanted to New England, that I found a couple folks within my program who had loved the show growing up, too. I ordered all of the episodes on VHS. It was difficult to track them all down in 2000, and it was expensive. But I pulled it off, and we had Friday night watch parties for weeks over the month of October. But that is not where this ends.
I was in the process of winding down the writing I’d been doing on Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow for the entirety of my senior year of high school. Suddenly, I’m in college and watching this fucking cartoon and thinking, there is so much heart in this. How the fuck is there so much heart. I haven’t seen two characters this wholesome codependent in, well, ever. I went looking for forums and mailing lists devoted to the cartoon. I found a mailing list. There were a handful of artists drawing amazing fancomics on there, and they were like, what do you do? Oh. I write. And they were like: do you understand how desperately some of us have wanted fic, but just can’t find it?
That is the wrong thing to say to me when I’m on a downward spiral of realizing I’m not going to escape a fandom without getting myself into a project so long that it’s all I’ll be doing for fucking months on end. If you’re one of the people who knew me back then, you know what I did for those four months in the fall/winter of 2000. I wrote a novel. Sure, I came close to failing a couple of classes, but it was the first time I understood exactly what I was capable of building as a fanwriter. Maybe even as a real writer.
“Time Will Tell” was hosted on a friend’s Angelfire site for a handful of years. People found it via LiveJournal, too, because I linked it there. I put it on AO3 somewhere circa 2012 and took it down again in 2017 because I didn’t feel there was enough interest in it, and also, my 19-year-old editorial foibles and typos were aspects I wanted to amend in it.
The musical took more inspiration from the cartoon than the film. I’m stunned and grateful for that. I found the “Time Will Tell” file buried pretty deep in my Gmail folders. I’ve been reading it since the drive home last night. I just can’t believe there’s now enough of a fandom for me to consider finally polishing it and getting it back online. It’s one of my two oldest surviving pieces of writing.
Anyway, sorry for the Gotham fic delays that I’d been trying to get a handle on. Now that the semester’s over, I feel that getting this thing I wrote twenty-three years ago back to the light of day is the best use of my time for a couple weeks.
If you’re one of the people who read “Time Will Tell” back in the day, thank you. I don’t know how many people out there still remember it beyond maybe ten or so friends I’m still in contact with all these years later. I’m sorry it disappeared for a while.
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lulublack90 · 3 days
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Prompt 12 - Rub
@jegulus-microfic May 12, Word count 757
Previous part First part
James, good to his word, snuck down to the dungeons and collected Regulus under the invisibility cloak while Sirius and Peter made their way outside. He took Regulus to an area on the lawn that was in a black spot from anyone looking out of the castle. The only person who might catch them there was Hagrid, but that wasn’t likely, as Sirius had mentioned to him that there was a bit of gambling going on in the Hog’s head that he might be interested in. They’d sat together, peering at the Marauder’s map as Hagrid’s little label disappeared out the main gate.
Padfoot bounded across the lawn and transformed just before he got to them. He looked Regulus up and down. 
“You ready?” He asked. He’d been trying harder these past few weeks to be better around Regulus and while neither of them seemed overly enthusiastic about each other, James could see they were more relaxed around each other and after tonight, he hoped that Sirius would come to accept that Regulus maybe didn’t tell their parents about everything they got up to.
Regulus nodded stiffly at Sirius.
“Yes.” His voice was just as stiff. Sirius let a grin spread across his face, James thought it even met his eyes, which was a first between them. 
“Good luck,” He winked, before turning back into Padfoot and loping across the grass to the base of the Whomping Willow. 
Regulus swallowed and looked up at the sky. Typically, it was cloudy tonight. They might have to wait a while for the full moon to be visible. 
Twilight fell around them and James flung the invisibility cloak over them again when Madam Pomfrey appeared out the entrance door, escorting Remus to the shack. 
“He doesn’t look good,” Regulus observed. James nodded solemnly. 
“He hurts around the full moon, but especially just before. The transformations are hard on him. Maybe once you can transform he’ll let you join us if you want. But I’ll warn you now, it’s heartbreaking to watch what his body goes through each month.”
They stood quietly for a while, gazing at the sky and watching for Madam Pomfrey. They had to stand quite close as the cloak was only so big. James tried his best not to touch Regulus, but their shoulders kept brushing. He inhaled, trying to calm his breathing, but it didn't help. 
Madam Pomfrey appeared, and she hurried back up to the castle. Once the doors were firmly closed, James removed the cloak and took a step away, pretending he was struggling to roll it up.
When he’d stopped messing with the cloak, he looked back over at Regulus, who was staring towards the Whomping Willow. Just then, the clouds rolled away and revealed the full moon behind.
It shone brighter than James remembered, then again it had been a while since he stared at a full moon with his human eyes. “Okay, it’s time.” He smiled encouragingly at Regulus. Regulus paused with the leaf in his hand. He gulped. “You don’t have to do it if you’re not ready,” James said gently. Regulus huffed at him. He tilted his head up, so he was staring squarely at the moon and put the mandrake leaf in his mouth. It was very anticlimactic. 
“Is that it?” His face twisted into a frown. James chuckled. 
“Yep, but it gets more exciting later.” He fully turned towards Regulus. “Let me have a look, so I can make sure you’ve got the leaf in a good position.” Regulus automatically opened his mouth and James peered in. 
Ever so carefully he raised his hand and moved the leaf further under Regulus’s tongue. He was surprised Regulus hadn’t bitten him, but the leaf would have fallen out in his sleep otherwise. 
His thumb was resting on Regulus’s lip and James unconsciously started to rub the pad along the delicate skin. It was only when Regulus drew in a gasping breath that he realised what he was doing. “Sorry,” He mumbled as he withdrew his finger. 
Regulus moved his jaw around, testing the leaf in his mouth. 
“So this thing won’t fall out now? Even when I’m eating?” He asked, ignoring James's apology. 
“Yeah, it should stay put. That’s how we had them when we did it, and we got through the whole month with them barely moving.” James told him. But before he could do anything else, Regulus had stepped into his space, and under the full moon he pressed his body into James’s and stole a kiss. 
Next part
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Valentine’s Day headcanons
-Giorno does the thing where he will fake being stood up on a Valentine’s date at a restaurant so that he could maybe get his meal for free. It’s worked every time but once. He always brings flowers and chocolate with him to make it look more convincing.
-Bruno will change the TV in the living room to a channel that has really sappy romance movies on all day. Then he will hide the remote in his zipper portals and watch as Narancia tries to find where the remote is hiding so he can watch something way less cheesy. It’s Bruno’s entertainment for the day.
-Abbacchio uses Valentine’s Day as an excuse to buy a fancier bottle of wine than usual. He also finds entertainment in watching Narancia frantically trying to find the TV remote.
-Mista is always extra dramatic on Valentine’s Day (because he is single). He spends 2/3rds of the day crying and then around dinner time he will treat himself to an extra fancy meal and dessert. And then he will cry later that night when he gets home to the romance movies playing in the living room.
-Narancia doesn’t understand Valentine’s Day, it’s too lovey dovey for him, and he would rather spend the day binge watching one of his funny shows than have to watch the romance movies. He thinks Mista hid the remote.
-Fugo doesn’t think about Valentine’s Day too much until he remembers that his favorite bakery will have a sale on chocolate covered strawberries the next day. He also always ends up reading a romance novel, and then complaining about how poorly written it was.
-Trish loves Valentine’s Day for the aesthetics and she always buys a ton of chocolate for herself. She makes little Valentine’s for everyone that say cute things like “roses are red, violets are blue, if you steal my chocolate I’m gonna kill you <3” and “I tolerate you <3” on them.
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5sospenguinqueen · 7 days
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Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader
Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.
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Feb
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YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'
12,326 comments
User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album
User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely
User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it
→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real
→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it
francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?
→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired
User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt
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2 months before
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May
redbullracing just posted
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liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet
7,445 comments
User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill
User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull
User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career
User 10 that should’ve been Y/N
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June
YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others
YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'
10,102 comments
User 11 not max liking despite not even following
victoriaverstappen so talented
liked by maxverstappen1
→ YourUserName thank you, vic x
→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main
alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears
→ YourUserName doofus
→ lilymhe can confirm
User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad
kellypiquet just posted
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liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others
kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1
4,387 comments
User 13 so pretty
User 14 goals
User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials
→ User 16 delusional
→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him
→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...
→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post
→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium
YourUserName posted a new story
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Hi, guys. This part of the Baby Fever Angst series, which will include smaus for other drivers. Daniel’s part has already been posted.
I have part 2 planned if people want it but also happy to leave it like this if people don't want them to have redemption haha
Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)
@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery
1K notes · View notes
coco-loco-nut · 1 month
Text
Book Club
Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader
Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club
requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist
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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.
“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.
“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.
“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.
“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.
“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.
“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.
“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.
Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.
“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.
“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.
The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.
“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).
“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.
“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.
“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.
“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.
“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.
“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.
“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.
“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.
“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.
“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.
“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.
“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.
“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.
“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.
“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.
“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.
“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.
“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.
“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.
“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.
“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.
“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.
“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.
“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.
“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.
“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.
“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.
“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.
“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.
“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.
“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.
“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.
“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.
“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.
“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.
“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.
“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.
“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”
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pucksandpower · 1 month
Text
Lullaby
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: in which Max is the only lullaby you’ll ever need
Warnings: 18+ content
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You stare up at the ceiling, wide awake. The numbers on the alarm clock seem to taunt you, the minutes ticking by as you struggle in vain to fall asleep.
It’s nearly 1 am and Max still isn’t home.
With a sigh, you roll over and bury your face in his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent.
It’s not the same.
Your body craves his warmth, the protective circle of his arms. Sleep just won’t come without him here.
You’ve always been this way, for as long as you can remember. A perpetual insomniac, tossing and turning through the lonely nights.
That is, until you met Max.
The first night you spent together, you were astonished to find yourself drifting off within minutes of being wrapped in his strong embrace. It was like magic. Now, months later, the spell hasn’t broken. Max has become a necessity, not just for your heart but also for your health.
The sound of the front door opening stirs you from your restless thoughts. Muted footsteps make their way to the bedroom and you feel the mattress dip down.
“Hey,” Max whispers, his hand grazing your shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late, the meeting ran long. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting up.”
You roll over to face him, drinking in the sight of his tousled hair and tired eyes. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”
He offers you a soft smile, the one he saves only for these quiet intimate moments, and your heart skips. No matter how many times you see it, that smile never fails to make you melt.
“Let me just wash up and I’ll be right there, okay?” He squeezes your hand gently before disappearing into the bathroom.
You listen to the familiar sounds of him getting ready for bed, a ritual you know by heart. The splash of water, the electric hum of his toothbrush, the soft thud of his clothes hitting the hamper.
When he emerges in just his boxers, you lift up the covers in silent invitation. He slides in behind you and tucks your body against his chest, legs tangled together.
You fit so perfectly, two puzzle pieces made for each other.
His arms wrap around you like bands of steel and you feel yourself begin to relax into him. Here, cradled against him with your legs interlocked, is the only place you’ve ever found true peace.
Max brushes his lips over your hair. “Did you miss me?” He murmurs.
You smile into the darkness. “You know I did.”
“I missed you too, schatje.” His voice is husky with fatigue. “I’m exhausted but I had to get back to take care of my girl.”
You snuggle deeper into his embrace. “My hero.”
He chuckles, low and warm like honey flowing over you.
You talk softly as you both unwind from the day, voices hushed in the intimacy of the night. He tells you about the team debrief that ran late and you fill him in on the book you started today, trading thoughts and details as the fuzziness of sleep starts to seep into the she of your consciousness.
Eventually conversation tapers off, words replaced by contented silence. Max’s breathing deepens and you know he’s nearing slumber. But your mind still buzzes, body fighting against its own weariness.
You shift restlessly and Max instantly tightens his hold. “Shh I’ve got you,” he soothes. “Just try to relax.”
One large hand begins massaging gentle circles on your back and you focus on its hypnotic motion, on the sensation of his calloused fingers tracing delicate shapes.
He starts humming softly, a nameless tune that fills you with wistful melancholy. You’ve never asked where he learned it. It belongs to these fragile midnight moments, when he coaxes you to stillness with his voice and touch.
Between the comfort of his embrace and the lullaby reverberations rumbling through his chest, you finally feel sleep approaching. Your thoughts drift away until only the present remains — Max surrounding you, his warmth, his scent, the combined rhythm of your heartbeats.
Just as your heavy eyelids begin to close, Max shifts suddenly and cages you beneath him. You gasp as he presses urgent kisses under your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin.
“Max!” You squirm half-heartedly. “I was almost asleep.”
“Not quite yet, schatje. We’re not done.” His voice is gravelly with arousal that makes your belly swoop. “I need you.”
He kisses you deeply until you’re clinging to him, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his back. This man unravels you with barely a touch, your body open and pliant to him like a flower turns to the sun.
When he enters you it feels like coming home. You let out a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the perfection of his body joining yours. This connection, this wholeness, is all you’ve ever wanted.
Max sets a slow, deep rhythm. His eyes blaze into you, grey flickering with lust and love and possession. “You’re mine,” he rasps, thrusting harder. “This is right where you belong. Under me, surrounding me, taking all of me.”
“Yes, yes I’m yours,” you gasp. The slide and drag of your bodies is maddening, tension coiling at the base of your spine.
Max grips your thigh, hooking it over his hip to drive himself deeper. “No one else gets to have you like this. You only come apart for me. I’m the only one who gets to feel you shatter.”
You cry out as he hits that perfect spot inside, stars bursting behind your eyelids. “Max, please …”
He crushes you closer, thin control fraying. “Please what? Tell me. I’ll give you anything you need.”
A particularly deep thrust wrings a wanton moan from you. You’re so close now, balanced on a knife’s edge of bliss. “Just you,” you manage to say. “I just need you.”
Max smiles, satisfied. “That’s my girl.” Then his lips slant over yours, swallowing your sobs of pleasure as his hips piston faster. The tension crests, higher and higher, until finally it breaks and you’re swept away on waves of dizzying ecstasy.
Max tenses and follows you over with a rough groan, your name a prayer on his lips. He collapses heavily against you, breath coming in harsh pants.
For long moments you just cling together, fingerprints bruising, heartbeats thundering through one another.
Eventually Max stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. But he doesn’t separate your bodies. He knows you’ll rest easier staying connected, so he simply shifts just enough to take some of his weight off you.
You let out a small sigh of contentment, his warmth seeping into every inch of you like a blanket. Utterly spent and sated, you quickly begin drifting off. But before sleep claims you, Max’s quiet voice cuts through the haze.
“I’ll always come back to you. Every night, just like this. You’re my home.”
His words wrap around your heart, a vow and a lullaby in one. You manage to murmur a quiet “love you” before finally succumbing to sleep, safe in the harbor of his arms.
1K notes · View notes
lovelettersfromluna · 2 months
Text
Not Strong Enough
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Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.
an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍
Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!
Read part 1 here!!
Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.
She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.
Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.
She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.
But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.
Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.
Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.
She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.
She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.
Ellieeeeee
Where are you?
Haven’t seen u in the longest :((
Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.
At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.
Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.
Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.
Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.
As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.
It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.
She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.
And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.
But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.
She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.
You always remind her though.
Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.
She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.
If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.
“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.
She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.
Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.
Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.
And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.
Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.
But you knew immediately that this was different.
The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.
So, why did you feel so bad that morning?
You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?
As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.
You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.
And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.
Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.
With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.
To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.
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You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.
Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.
You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.
Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.
You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.
And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.
It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.
You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.
Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.
Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.
All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.
Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.
“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.
“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.
She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.
You however, have other plans.
You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.
Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.
“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.
Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.
Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.
You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.
“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.
But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.
When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.
“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.
Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.
It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.
Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.
She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.
So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.
Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.
“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.
You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.
Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.
She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.
“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.
And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.
Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.
It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.
Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.
“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.
It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.
“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.
“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.
“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.
She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.
“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.
You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.
“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.
You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?
Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.
She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.
“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.
“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.
“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.
“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.
You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.
“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.
She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.
“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.
And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.
And you have no choice, but to kiss her.
It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.
It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.
Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.
“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.
You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.
“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.
“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.
But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.
And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.
“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.
“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.
Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.
“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.
“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.
Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.
Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.
You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.
You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.
“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.
“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.
Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.
And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.
You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.
It made your head fucking spin.
You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.
“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.
Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.
“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.
“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….
“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.
You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.
Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.
“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.
She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.
“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.
“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.
Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.
Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.
You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.
She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.
“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.
“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.
And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.
You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.
“I love you, pretty girl..”
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333
Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3
cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?” 
“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes. 
Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top. 
“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words. 
“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?” 
You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse. 
“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.” 
Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you. 
“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?” 
“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.” 
“What’s that?” he asks. 
“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—” 
“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?” 
“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.” 
“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?” 
“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.” 
There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut. 
“Jesus, what the hell?” 
Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster. 
“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?” 
“I don’t—can you move the light away?” 
More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye. 
“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says. 
Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.” 
You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his. 
“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.” 
You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?” 
“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.” 
You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares? 
Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face. 
“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?” 
“To call Evans.” 
You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.
“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.” 
“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.” 
“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.” 
“What if no one saw?” 
“Then what do you think calling will do, love?” 
“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?” 
You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes. 
“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face. 
The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.” 
Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.” 
But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’. 
He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?” 
“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now. 
“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.” 
“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.” 
Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.” 
You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.” 
James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?” 
You nod, and he winces. 
“Ouch, lovie.” 
“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.” 
You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.” 
“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says. 
Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?” 
“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.” 
You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek. 
“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink. 
“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly. 
Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.” 
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syddsatyrn · 3 months
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Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️
Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.
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⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff
⛧Words: 2.5k
⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.
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The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.
You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 
After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.
You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 
 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.
She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.
“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.
"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.
"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  
You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 
"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."
“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.
"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.
"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”
Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.
"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.
"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.
"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.
"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 
“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  
“How long have you been asleep?” 
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
“10:20.” 
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 
He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 
“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 
“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 
“What? No Jane Austen?” 
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 
“You are utterly ridiculous.” 
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 
“Just get the book, Spencer.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 
“Ready to get out?” 
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 
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wongyuuu · 4 months
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slow motion | ljh
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pairing: jihoon x f!reader genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers word count: 3.4k summary: when you offer to cut jihoon's hair, he has a hard time holding himself back from touching you warnings: minors do not interact, swearing, petnames, fingering, multiple orgasm, penetrative sex a/n: against all odds, my current dream is to cut jihoon's hair
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Jihoon did his best to control himself, to keep his breathing even despite his heart racing inside his chest. He knew he shouldn't be behaving that way, he was sure it was wrong on so many levels that he didn't even want to think about it. But he couldn't just get his mind to stop for even a second.
All he could focus on was the feeling of your fingers in his hair, your breath gently touching the back of his neck. Keeping his hands to himself was proving to be a more difficult task than expected.
He should have known when he accepted your offer to cut his hair that he would be up to his neck in trouble. Jihoon was sure he shouldn't have accepted it, but when you offered he simply found himself saying yes, like he was agreeing to a movie or a pizza.
Maybe he shouldn't even have a crush on his best friend in the first place. Maybe that was a point to think about. But it was simply stronger than him. Even though Jihoon told his brain that it was wrong, that he shouldn't feel that way, it was simply impossible to ignore what he felt.
And he had tried, with all his might. He swore he did.
That's why he had pulled away from you a little. The old “out of sight, out of mind”. And for a while, you let the whole situation just move along how he wanted. You knew that if Jihoon walked away without saying anything it was because he had problems that he still didn't know how to deal with very well. And you knew him well enough to know when he needed time to himself.
But enough was enough and a month of absolute silence was all you were willing to give him. Thirty days was more than enough for him to understand what was happening. Thirty days was much longer than you wanted to be away from him.
So, without a heads up, to Jihoon or his friends, you simply showed up at his door.
You laughed at his sleepy face, his hair scattered everywhere and how he seemed completely lost while looking at you.
"Hi!" you said excitedly, walking through the door  without being invited in.
Jihoon was a very private guy, who liked having control over the situations he got himself into, but in that moment, he had no idea what was going on.
It wasn't like you to show up unannounced.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, doing his best to shake off sleep.
You sat on the couch and looked around, dangling your feet. Jihoon's place was organized and very few things were out of place, just enough to show signs that someone lived there.
You had missed it there. As strange as it may seem, Jihoon's apartment was the place where you felt most comfortable, even more than in your own apartment. Maybe the fact that you shared an apartment with someone you didn't like very much had a big influence in how you felt. Or maybe it was just because of him.
"I should ask that, you were the one who disappeared," you said smiling.
That was a smile Jihoon knew well, one that said you were insecure, and weren't sure how to proceed. He hated that he was responsible for this.
Jihoon liked to be the person you felt most comfortable with, the one you ran to when you had problems. He didn’t want to be the one you felt like walking on eggshells around.
“I’m sorry,” he said, wishing you could feel his sincerity.
"Have you been out of the apartment?" you asked, knowing the answer would be no.
"Define out" he narrowed his eyes and sat on the other end of the couch. It didn't go unnoticed by you that he sat as far away as possible "I went to the gym"
It was your turn to narrow your eyes, focusing solely on him, analyzing every part of his face and slowly moving down to his shoulders. You weren’t sure that was how it worked at the gym, but you could have sworn his shoulders had gotten wider, his arms bigger too.
A gym rat you had called him once. At the time Jihoon had laughed, but you knew that the expression applied very well to him. If it were up to him all he would do was go to the gym and work
"Did you see people, interact with them?"
"There were people in the gym"
You rolled your eyes. That conversation wasn't going anywhere, you knew that. Jihoon wasn't the type of person to leave the house unless he had a good excuse and usually, his excuse came in the form of a text message from you.
You were the only person, perhaps followed by Soonyoung, who was able to get Jihoon out of the house to do anything other than go to the gym and maybe a few trips to the convenience store. It was a constant joke that he didn't even know what the streets around his building were like. A real joke, because he really didn't know.
Jihoon would only leave the house if he really needed to.
"You didn't even get a haircut"
You pointed to the mess on top of his head. Jihoon laughed and tried, without much success, to make his appearance a little more presentable.
The last time you saw each other, Jihoon's hair was a little longer than he usually wore it. And you liked it back then. Every time he showed up in front of you you felt your heart skip a beat and your breathing hitch. But it had grown too much, was blunt, and spread in all directions.
"I didn’t have time"
You laughed, nodding. You knew it was a lie, he was just too lazy, but you were willing to let it go.
"Want me to cut it for you?" you offered.
At that point, you would do anything to be close to Jihoon, even if it was for a short period of time and the excuse was terrible.
During the month you spent away from him, you felt as if an integral part of your life had simply disappeared. Jihoon was, you realized, a big part of your life. The truth was that you could live without him, yes. You could and you knew it, you just didn't want to.
Whenever you had the choice to be by his side or be far away, the choice would always be to stay with him.
Yes, he was, without a doubt, your best friend, but he was also much more. You actually wanted him to be more, but you weren’t sure how you could tell him that. You were afraid of opening up and losing what you had. So you decided that a bit little of him was better than nothing at all.
"Do you really think this is a good idea?"
You laughed and scooted closer to him, sitting right next to him, your thigh next to his. Jihoon swallowed hard, it wasn't what he expected, but he didn't have the strength to run away, not again.
"Soonyoung didn’t complaining"
"Soonyoung? You guys been talking?"
That fucking bastard, Jihoon mentally cursed his friend. Soonyoung had only mentioned you once and when Jihoon didn't pay much attention he didn't say anything else. Even if he hadn't said anything, even if he hadn't given any signs, he hoped his friend would still keep him informed about you and what you were up to. Apparently, he would have to "talk" to Soonyoung later.
"Yes, he came by last week. He got drunk after I cut his hair, I tried calling you, but when you didn't answer he ended up staying over"
You analyzed Jihoon's expressions, waiting for a change, and smiled discreetly when you saw what you wanted. He didn’t like what he was hearing.
Jihoon wanted to hit himself. He remembered the call, but it had been made from Soonyoung's phone, so he purposely ignored it. His friend had a habit of calling him just to test his patience, so sometimes Jihoon chose to simply ignore him.
He was sure he would answer all of his friend's calls and regret most of them.
"If you promise you won't make matters worse," he said running his fingers through his hair "you can cut it"
And that's how he ended up in that situation, trying to control himself to keep his hands away from you
Jihoon cursed under his breath when you turned around, standing in front of him. He was sitting on the edge of his bathtub. He swore he almost fainted when you positioned yourself in between his legs
You were too close, your scent invading every single one of his senses. Before he could even realize what he was doing, he was running the tip of his fingers on the back of your exposed knees. 
His faint touch was enough to make your legs tremble. You put your hand on his shoulder, whether it was to stop him or steady yourself was unknown. However, it wasn't enough to detain him, if anything it only pushed him to run his fingers up your thigh.
You did your best to ignore him and just kept on cutting his hair. If there was one thing you always loved about Jihoon was his hair, how he always let you play with it, how he would often fall asleep while you did so. 
"I'm almost done," you told him. 
Jihoon hummed, now both of his hands on your legs. He couldn't help but wonder if your skin was so hot because of him or because it was the middle of summer. 
Finally, you put the scissors over the sink. You tilted Jihoon's head back so he would look at you. You didn't expect to see his eyes so cloudy, almost as if he was sort of lost in his own mind, maybe the mind of their own that his hands created. 
"Okay" was all he offered.
You ran your hands over his hair one more time, making sure that it looked fine and even on both sides. You smiled, pleased with yourself. It had been a lie that you cut Soonyoung's hair. The last time you cut someone's hair was in the previous year when you cut Jihoon's for the second time because he, again, was too lazy to go to the barber and get it cut by a professional. You were about to move away from him so he could look at himself in the mirror when Jihoon held onto you, not letting you get away from him. 
He ran his hands up and down your tights, pulling you closer to him, his forehead resting on your stomach. 
"Don't do this" you begged him when you felt him push your shirt up, placing a kiss on your exposed skin "If you don't mean it, please don't do this"
"What if I do?" he asked, voice barely a whisper "What if I have meant it for a very long time?"
You always took pride in the fact that you knew how to read Jihoon when others couldn't tell the difference in his actions. He was known for his cold exterior but you knew just how warm and loving he could be. You had been on the receiving end of his love and affection so many times. But looking at him in that moment you didn't know if what you were seeing in his eyes was the truth or if it was what you wanted to see. 
"This could ruin everything," you said. 
He knew that. Oh, just how well he knew that. But in that moment he decided to throw all caution through the window and do the one thing he had been wanting for the past ten years.
"Yeah, it could"
Jihoon rose to his feet, his hands that previously were around your waist cradled your face. He looked at you once again, to make sure that he wasn't imagining it, that you wanted it too. 
You couldn't take your eyes away from his plump lips, from the way he wet them with the tip of his tongue. You held the shirt around his waist, steading yourself when he finally placed his lips on yours. 
His touch was tentative at first, still unsure, but when you sighed into the kiss, hand going to his neck, he deepened the kiss, urging your lips open. 
You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could.
You had been kissed before, many times, by many different people, and not once had it felt like that. There was this magnetic pull towards Jihoon, which had always been there, but neither of you had ever acted on it. Everything else seemed to disappear while he was around. It was like tunnel vision and he was all that you could see and, in that moment, feel.  You were sure that if a meteor suddenly fell in the next room neither of you would care, too lost into each other to even notice.
Jihoon kissed you like he was sharing his deepest secrets, one that was only for you to know. His touch was tender, enough to leave you like a fool, melting under him, but also passionate enough to make you dig your nails into his shoulder. 
He pulled away from you, just enough to look at you. He watched as you slowly opened your eyes, lips slightly red.
"Yeah, this changes everything," he said.
Jihoon kissed you again, taking slow steps back, one of his arms outstretched to make sure that you wouldn't hit your back on anything, while he guided you to his room. 
That night was going to change everything and he could only hope that it was for the better, that he finally would be one you looked to. 
You felt the back of your knees hit the side of his bed, his perfume taking over you. 
You kissed his jaw, then his neck, your fingers pushing his shirt up. Jihoon helped you pull his shirt over his head. Lightly, you ran your nails over his skin. You smiled when you saw the goosebumps on his skin. 
"There's no going back now," you said to him "If we do this..."
Jihoon didn't want to hear it. All doubts and worries could be processed later. The only thing he cared about was that you were in his arms, the one you place he wanted to have in you for years. He wasn't about to let go,  not when he was sure that you were just as into it as he was.
He looked at you while unbuttoning your shorts. His eyes were so intense that you almost wanted to look away. It was almost too much. But it was also not nearly enough, you realized. You wanted Jihoon all over, all at once. 
You felt your cheeks heat up when he slid his hand into your shorts, past your panties. His fingers touched you as if they knew you, like he had done the same things many times before. 
A soft moan left your lips when you felt his middle finger on your clit, rubbing it in small, slow, circles. You held onto him, gripping his arms to steady yourself. 
Slowly Jihoon pulled away from you, pushing you down on the bed while you did your best to get rid of your shorts and underwear,  suddenly hating how tight it was on your sweaty skin. 
"I've been waiting for this for a long time, darling," he said, biting your neck, his hands finding their way back into your folds "Take this off"
You pulled your shirt over your head and laughed when Jihoon made a sound on the back of his throat. You looked down at your bra, suddenly remembering that it was matching your discarded panties.
"You were not the only one waiting for this," you said, pulling him to you again. 
His fingers worked your clit harder, faster, more demanding than before. The thought of having you always wearing matching underwear, just in case he took his head out of his ass long enough, was enough to drive him crazy. He wanted it all and it wanted fast. 
Jihoon watched as you closed your eyes, back arching from the bed.
"I think I can make you cum like this" he said and you knew wore that cocky that always made your head spin "Look at me"
You opened your eyes as he dipped his finger into you, curling it. 
"Jihoon" you moaned when you felt the pressure of climax building up.
Your flushed cheeks, fresh out of an orgasm, was his favorite sight, Jihoon decided. 
He reached for his bedside table, pulling out a condom out of the first drawer. You watched in complete trance as he finally pushed his boxers out, your mouth suddenly watering at the thought of having him fill you. 
"You're too slow," you complained, pushing yourself up on your elbows, adjusting one of his pillows under your head.
He laughed, climbing back on the bed, on top of you. 
"I'm enjoying the moment"
"You know, you could enjoy it a lot more if you just fucked me"
Jihoon laughed again, pushing your legs back against your stomach and over his shoulders. 
He dragged his cock over your slit a few times, his tip getting caught on your sensitive clit every single time.
"Don't tease me"
Slowly he sank into you. Every tiny piece of him filled you, stretching you up. His name left your mouth as you got used to him.
"I'm ruined, baby" he caressed your tigh "Fucking ruined"
He took his time, each of his strokes languid. He pulled all the way out before pushing himself in again. He pressed your legs down, his weight over you in the most delicious way. 
His eyes rolled back as you walls kept sucking him in, a groan escaped his mouth. 
Jihoon's pace was torturously slow so when he applied the slightest bit of pressure on your clit you came apart under him. His name and incoherent sounds all you could manage. It didn't take long for him to follow. 
He stayed still for a few seconds, both of you trying to catch your breaths. You let your legs fall to the sides, the position awkward, but Jihoon didn't move, he only leaned forward and pressed his lips to your in a tender kiss. 
"You're staying, right?" he asked. 
You had never seen him look like that before, unsure. 
You ran your hand over his hair, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 
"I'm not going anywhere"
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Jihoon was the first one to wake up. Not once in his life did he wake up feeling like that, happy. He wished that he could freeze that moment, or at least imprint it on his mind. You looked beautiful like that, just sleeping with your hair a mess. You looked peaceful. The frown you had the night before when you first walked inside his apartment completely gone. 
He wasn't sure how the dynamics would be with the two of you but didn't care. You had stayed the night with him and he was sure that it meant something. Jihoon knew that you wouldn't have allowed him to touch you if you weren't certain of it. Of course both of you were worried about how your friendship would move on from that and he could only hope that you could become more. 
So he held you tighter against his body, no room between the two of you. Jihoon felt your body tense for a second as you stretched your arms and legs. When you turned around in his arms, Jihoon closed his eyes, pretending to still be asleep. He did his best to keep his smile at bay when he felt your fingers running across his face, tracing his eyebrows, nose, cheeks and lingered on his lips.
As he opened his eyes, the only words that Jihoon could think of were I love you. You were the only person he ever thought of saying those words to, the only person he ever said them to. When he thought about his life you were always there by his side, not just as his best friend but also as the woman he loved.
That moment, Jihoon decided, was one that he was going to hold for dear life. 
"I have to pee" you said when you felt his arms tighten around you.
"Just a little longer like this" he said "A few more minutes"
"Okay" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw before settling into his arms, falling asleep once again.
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l3mtea · 29 days
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If you want some story behind this comic, it’s just below this lil comic <3
Oh.
His quiet reverie shatters when pieces of odd moments he’s had with the fallen are forming together like a jigsaw puzzle fitting on each other perfectly.
His reckless actions to gain favor of the fallen’s emotion and attention, his unusual chattiness whenever a squabble with the king begins. Disagreeing and debating such nonsensical topics that he wouldn’t even dare to try and win over but becomes possible if it’s against the king.
Such mundane things became a thrill of joy whenever it was with the king.
The fallen has been slowly becoming a reason for his enjoyment, his everything that makes living in hell all the more fun.
He can never get over the expressions the king shows only at him, his fake smiles will always disappear when it comes to him.
It’s truly a joy.
And that brings him down to a revelation he wished he should’ve not known.
He likes Lucifer.
Terrifyingly, maybe even more so than he’d like to admit.
This revelation might change his view on Lucifer, in a lot of ways if he’s being honest.
But he throws this knowledge out of his mind. He’ll get over it someday. He’s sure of it.
Months went on and slowly, he realized he and the king had some similarities— or something they both have in agreement at least.
Lucifer likes his jokes. It was surprising, really. He simply remarked an off-handed pun towards his colleagues with expectations of none showing such enthusiasm on his jokes— except one did.
He hears the fallen snicker and laughs quietly. A sound he’d unexpectedly find lovely to his ears. A music that he can never get rid of even until today.
It became his purpose to make jokes and make the king laugh— and he didn’t regret doing so.
He tells a silly joke and the king laughs loud, his head falling back and smiling brightly at him, a golden blush spreading across his porcelain face.
It’s a beautiful sight.
“You’re not so bad for yourself, Alastor.” It was a first for the fallen to call his name properly. It’s a lovely ring he’d like to hear again.
“Likewise, sire.”
More months went on and— oh. How stupid he was.
He didn’t mean to utter such a silly thing— towards a being powerful than him no less.
“I like your dumb smile.” He didn’t mean to blurt out his thoughts loud for the king to hear. But he simply laughs at it.
“You do? Stop joking bambi.” A joke. He thought of it as a joke.
“Apologies, the mood was slowly going sour and I couldn’t help but jest a bit.”
“Oh shut up.”
‘Would you believe me if I say I like you?’
• • • •
“Lucifer.” He couldn’t help it. He can’t help but be a fool towards the fallen.
“Al? What is it?” He asks, now smiling at him. He wished for more out of this relationship he cultivated for years now.
“I’d like to confess something.” There was an odd trepidation gripping on his chest. He hates this feeling.
“Confess? Wow that’s a pretty deep word,” an awkward chuckle comes out of him, “whaddya want to say?”
“I like you, Lucifer.” A beat of silence.
“.. what?” He watches him back away slightly, an awkward laugh, “You’re joking, right?”
..
“I’m afraid not, sire.”
“Al, I— uh, I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same way.”
“.. I understand.”
“I’m sorry.” And he runs off.
..
Hah..
So this is a feeling that Vox felt when he rejected him?
Did he also think that he’d wish he died at the very moment when he realized that the friendship they’ve had for years were gone in a blink all for a stupid selfish act such as he is right now?
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uluvjay · 8 months
Text
Guys my age- L.Hamilton
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Lewis Hamilton x fem Schumacher! Reader
In which your boyfriend can’t seem to satisfy you the way you need, landing you in the hands of someone much more experienced
Warnings?; SMUT; Age gap!(reader is 25), reader is also Charles girlfriend!, physical cheating, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex(wrap it before u tap it!), p in v, fingering(f receiving), nipple play.
Not really sure how I feel about this but I hope you enjoy!
Your hadn’t intended for Lewis to overhear the conversation with your brother’s girlfriend, it was quit embarrassing to have someone catch you talking about the fact that your boyfriend hadn’t gotten you off in months but here you were.
Laila had noticed the tension in your shoulders as of Late and the way you always seemed to be frustrated, but she didn’t want to overstep.
That was until she saw your frustrated frame exiting the Ferrari motorhome and stomping into the Mercedes hospitality. Quietly following you she found you sat in a far corner with a bottle of water and pout on your lips.
“Are you okay?” She questioned sitting next to you.
With a huff you thought about lying but you couldn’t take this anymore, Charles hadn’t been satisfying you in the slightest and you hadn’t shared your building frustrations with anyone.
“Me and Charles are having some…issues” you shrugged.
“Oh? Are you guys arguing?” She kindly asked.
“Uh no…I-it’s more you know, sex related” you whispered.
“Oh!” She blushed with a small smile.
“I’m sorry Laila, you definitely don’t wanna hear about my issues regarding my sex life” you blushed as well.
“No, it’s okay! I’m assuming you haven’t talked to anyone about it and I can tell somethings been bothering you, so spill. I’m all ears” she smiled, moving her chair closer to yours.
However what you had managed to miss in your small annoyance filled haze was the Brit sat at the table behind yours.
Lewis had been quietly enjoying his lunch when he watched you storm inside, face red and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He watched you purchase the bottle of water and slump down in a chair at the table in front of him.
He was never one to eavesdrop but hearing your say that Charles wasn’t satisfying you in the way you needed caught his attention and for some reason he couldn’t turn his attention away.
You were a good bit younger then the him, and maybe he’d read the signals wrong but there was always tension between the two of you since Mick had joined Mercedes.
Between your sweet hugs and lingering touches every time you passed by him, you had him going crazy. It didn’t help that He always found himself locked in conversations with you when you would hang around the garage.
You loved hearing about the car and all the new adventures he and Roscoe had been on while he was home, and he enjoyed hearing you talk about university and how your Major was going.
You’d also be lying if you said the way his hand lingered on your lower back after a hug didn’t make you feel butterflies in your stomach, or that you didn’t find yourself watching his ink covered hands more often then not.
There was no lie that Lewis was a beautiful man, everyone knew it. And yes you’d caught yourself staring at the man a lot but you loved Charles, and you’d never betray him like that. Well that’s what you told yourself until the older man had you pinned against the door of his drivers room.
-
“Lewis!” You called turning down the hallway you’d seen him disappear down.
The man turned at the sound of you calling his name, a smile over taking his face as he watched you open your arms to embrace him.
“I wanted to tell you congratulations, I didn’t catch you outside” You spoke into his shoulder as your hands went around his neck, and his took place around your waist.
“Thank you darling” he replied placing a kind kiss to the side of your head.
“Of course! You did amazing, and it was wrong of the team to leave you hanging out there” you whispered to the taller man, not wanting anyone from the team to hear.
“Ehh, not to upset about it. Just happy I was able to secure a podium” he smiled looking down at you.
You two held eye contact for a moment, hands still lingering on each others bodies with no intention of moving them.
“I..uh” you stuttered as you finally moved your eyes to ground at the feeling of a blush began to scatter your cheeks and you felt the deep throb in your core.
“You should what sweetheart?” He teased
“I uh should head back to Ferrari, think Charles and Carlos wanted to go out to celebrate the win.” You shyly spoke attempting to take a step back but his hold on your waist stayed.
“Ahh, Charles right.” He nodded before patting your hip and pulling his hand away, taking a step back.
“Have fun darling, hopefully you’ll be able to Cum tonight” he smirked as your distancing frame turned back around so quick he was scared you’d fall.
“What?” You spoke, mouth drying instantly.
“Weren’t very quite In hospitality today love, heard ever bit of your rant to Laila. Heard how no matter what he does he just can’t seem to make you finish, such a shame really. A woman like you deserves to be having so many orgasms that you have to beg for him to stop” he teased with a faux pout on his lips.
“Lewis-I, you weren’t supposed to hear that” you whispered yelled at the man as you walked closer to him.
“Oops” he shrugged before turning and making way into his drivers room, a smirk forming on his face as he heard your light footsteps following.
It was like your feet were moving on their own accord, quickly following behind him and shutting his drivers room door as you entered.
You kept yourself pinned against the door as he sat his helmet down on a table and began to remove his fireproofs. A breath got caught in your throat at the sight of him pulling off his undershirt, revealing his ink covered back.
“Why don’t you take a picture darling?” He teased as he turned back to face you.
“I-” you tried speaking out a snappy reply but the feeling of his body growing closer and closer to yours had you shutting up.
“You what?” He asked quietly as his hands found a home on your waist again.
“Nothing” you quipped, mind already blanking due to the warmth his hands were providing on your body.
He reached a hand up to cup your face, smiling when you leaned into it.
“Tell me, what’re we going to do here Y/n? You want me to fuck you? Take care of you the way a woman deserves to be taken care of? Or are you going to go back to you boyfriend and pretend this never happened?” He lightly questioned.
You thought about it for a moment, you really did. You loved Charles but it was no lie that over the past few months things had been different, you two didn’t touch each other the same and when you did he couldn’t even get you to the end. And it wasn’t really betrayal if he had already been meeting up with that art major from Paris, so you said fuck it.
“I want you to fuck me lewis, give me what I deserve” you whispered in his ear.
One sentence was all it took for his inked hand to slip from your cheek down to your throat and his lips to slam against yours. The kiss was quick and messy, full of clashing teeth and tongue’s fighting for dominance but you loved every second of it.
Your hands found his braids, lightly tugging causing a groan to escape the man’s throat. Your own sounds starting to escape from your throat as his lips began their descent down your neck.
He smirked against you skin when he heard your small whine as his teeth nipped at the spot below your ear.
“Lew, no marks please” you whimpered out.
“Mhm” he grumbled before his lip’s reattached to yours and his hands slipped down your thighs before tapping the back of them, signaling for you to jump.
A gasp of surprise left your lips when his hands gripped your ass under your sundress rather then your thighs. He kept his hold on you as we walked the two of you to the small couch he had in his room, laying you down against the leather as he hovered over you.
“So pretty baby” he praised, his eyes ranking over your flushed body. Your dress had ridden up exposing the pretty white lace you were wearing under your dress. A groan escaped Lewis’s throat at the sight of the delicate material, running a finger under the band he snapped it against your skin, earning a whine from you.
He rolled your dress up the rest of the way allowing him to see the wet spot that had formed on your panties.
“So wet for me, huh baby?” He teased with a smirk as he slowly moved the lace to the side, growling at the sight of your dripping folds.
“All for you sir” you shot back as your own smirk took over your face at his warning look.
“Little bit of a brat aren’t you baby?” He spoke reaching over to pinch your thigh.
You nodded in reply, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as he began to trail his fingers where you needed them most.
“Oh! You gasped as he ran one through your folds, his touch was new and unfamiliar and you could feel your body craving for more of it.
He worked you slowly, starting with small rubs to your clit before journeying a finger down to your entrance and slipping inside. He could watch the sight of your thrown back head all day everyday.
“Lewis” you whimpered his name as his finger began speeding up, “please add another” added in a light plea for the man to give you just a bit more.
Giving you what you asked he slipped another finger inside and began scissoring said fingers at a fast pace, loving the way you threw your eyes were rolling for him.
He continued to work you for a while, fingers moving at an unforgiving pace as his thumb came and went against your clit and his mouth spilled dirty words at you, all helping to push you closer and closer to the edge you hadn’t been at in months.
“Fuck! I’m gonna come Lewis, please let me cum” you begged the older man, opening your eyes to meet his dark ones.
“Go ahead baby, come for me” he gave permission.
Your body shook at the feeling of your orgasm washing over you for the first time in what felt like ages. A mix of German and English spilled from your mouth as Lewis continued to work you through your high, not stopping until you we’re attempting to push his hand away.
A whine escaped your mouth as you watched him slip his glistening fingers into his mouth, a low groan escaping him at the taste.
“Taste so good princess” he smiled
You pulled him down into another kiss, a whimper escaping you at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You hands reached down to push down his underwear and finally free his aching cock.
You pulled away from his mouth just in time to watch his length bounce against his lower stomach, a moan breaking free at the sight.
“Want you to fuck me lewis, please” you once again begged the older man.
“Whatever you want pretty girl” he spoke as he stroked himself a few times before running his tip through your folds.
He felt so heavy and warm against you, he was about the same length as Charles just thicker, and you couldn’t wait to feel all of him inside you.
Your fingers dug crescent marks into his back as he slipped inside, his face was buried in your neck allowing you to hear the small whimper that escaped his throat at the feeling of you welcoming him inside.
“Fuck you’re so tight” he groaned, stilling for a moment attempting to give you both a moment to get used to one another.
“You can move now” you breathlessly spoke.
With a small nod you felt him begin to move, he started slowly but after a moment he set a steady pace that had your eyes rolling back.
He felt so fucking good, you could feel every single ridge and vein on his cock, the way he filled you up had you barley able to breathe.
Lewis wasn’t doing much better, the vice grip you had around him had him ready to cum in seconds and he truly wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last.
“Feel so full Lewis” you cried to the man, locking you ankles around his waist.
“I know baby, doing so good for me” he praised you, his hand finding the hem of your dress, pulling it down to allow your breast to be free.
You whined at the felling of his teeth lightly grazing one of your nipples while a hand worked on the other, pulling and pinching the hardened bud.
One of your hands slipping around the back of his neck to keep him there, while the other ran down his back leaving deep scratches in its wake.
“I’m getting close” you whimpered out as the feeling of stomach got hotter and hotter by the second.
“Me to baby” he replied as he leaned back and moved your legs from his waist to his rest over his shoulders.
The moan that escaped your mouth due to the new position was downright pornographic and had a small giggle coming from the man above you.
“H-holy shit” you moaned, it was all beginning to be to much, the building pressure in your stomach and the way his cock didn’t seem to miss that spot inside of you, reaching a hand out in attempt to push him only resulted in your hand being smacked away.
“Gonna come? I can feel how tight your clenching around me, come on pretty girl” he encouraged as one of his hands slipped down to rub the bud between your legs.
“Lewis!” You all about screamed at the added sensation.
“Ooh, I’m cumming! I’m cumming Lewis” you cried as the dam inside you finally broke and you came all over him, coating his cock in your wetness.
“Oh god” he groaned, the way you were clenching around him and the sharp whines leaving your lips were egging him on.
“Come on Lewis, come for me” you encouraged in his ear, lips working around his neck.
“Fuck, where do you want me to come baby?” He questioned knowing he was seconds away from coming.
“Inside lew, please cum inside of me” you begged him.
And he did just that, face buried in your neck as your hands ranked down his back and he shook above you. Pretty moans and little “oh fucks” escaping from his throat and right into your ear.
He just about dropped right on top of you after he finished coming, placing little kisses where his mouth could reach while you ran a hand up and down his back and placed your own kisses to his head.
You were about to speak up before the sound of knocking and your brother’s girlfriends voice came through the door.
“Uh Lewis, is Y/n in there? We can’t find her”
-
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daycourtofficial · 5 days
Text
Deceptive Domestication
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 7.7k | Warnings: sexism, misogyny
Summary: The two of you have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Can you live with this false reality? Or will your feelings for Azriel eat you alive when it’s over?
Author’s note: started making it, had a breakdown, bon apetit
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“Angel, where are you?”
Azriel’s deep voice moves on the wind, finding you at the back of your cottage. You twist the new ring adorning your fourth finger, the skin beneath it showing no tan lines, “I’m back here, just one second!”
Azriel laughs, his voice sweet and full of honey, “the wife’s an avid gardener. When we were first considering moving here, she insisted we check the soil to make sure she would be able to have her prized blackberries.”
You appear from the side of the house, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress. Azriel’s arm reaches around you, clasping you on your shoulder as you get next to him. 
“He’s right, I love my blackberries greatly,” you say, reaching out to shake hands with your new neighbors. They lived in the house closest to yours, a red thatched roof adorning the black building. Delicious smells came from it, and judging by the smoke from the chimney, they were likely preparing dinner when they saw you two.
“We just wanted to come by and meet the two of you, we saw you come in last night and wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Arben,” the male points to himself, “and this is my wife, Alija.”
You nod to both of them - they looked to be a good bit older than you and Azriel, wrinkles adorning their tanned faces. “Thank you, this used to be my Uncle Sal’s home. Since he passed away recently, he left the home to us and we wanted to leave our home village.”
“I’m so sorry about Sal, sweetheart,” he says, a sympathetic look in his eye, “he was a nice male, talked about you all of the time. Alija has to finish dinner, but we’ll see the two of you around, yeah?”
You press your lips into a firm smile, nodding before pressing into Azriel’s side and turning back to the house. His arm on your back guides you to the door of your new home, his touch a familiar warmth amidst all of the new. Once you cross the threshold, shutting the door behind yourselves, Azriel’s hand falls from your back and he immediately puts distance between you two, walking towards the bedroom he was staying in. His smile drops, the air in the room frigid. Rhys’s words clang through you, a shock to your senses.
Go to this village as a married couple. I’m unsure how long it will take.
You jolted as Azriel slammed the door behind him. Sighing, you move to your own room, taking in the bags left to unpack. You had taken great care to pack enough to last you as the season changes. The two of you were here indefinitely, marooned in a quaint village of about forty-three people.
Move in, become friends with the neighbors, find out what you can.
There was a circle of villages in the western part of the Night Court where females kept disappearing - six had gone missing in the last month. The villagers were not speaking to outsiders, but Rhysand thought a long term mission might allow the spies to get close enough to get some questions answered.
So he decided on you and Azriel.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
It had been strange seeing Azriel play this version of a spy, even if it had only been a day. You were so used to him lurking in the shadows, it felt so strange to watch him play the part of a doting husband, and to do it well. Introducing you to the neighbors and random villagers, a hand kept on your skin at all times - on your lower back, your waist, your shoulders. It was so easy to get swept up in the illusion you two were selling - even you were convinced you were newlyweds, moving for a fresh start.
Until he slammed his door, reminding you it was all fake, a farse for information.
Things between you and Azriel have always been easy. You two were the best of friends, most of your free time being spent with him since joining the Inner Circle two years ago. The two of you spent countless nights sitting together when sleep wouldn’t find you, you two had even developed a code - open bedroom doors at night were a silent invitation for the other to come in, spending most nights in each other’s rooms, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of the two of you.
All of that ended very suddenly a few months ago. Suddenly his door was always closed to you, your own cracked every night. A call to him, begging him to acknowledge you.
You started keeping your door closed a month ago. It didn’t feel right, shutting him out, but clearly you had done something wrong. Your entrance into a room would cause him to leave immediately, changes in his training schedule to avoid you, abruptly turning around when he saw you.
It was all pissing you off.
The rest of the Inner Circle were just as clueless as you were as to what happened to cause Azriel’s sudden distance. Cassian tried to interfere - making plans with both of you for dinner at a restaurant and ditching, trying to force you two to spend time together.
Azriel just left once he caught sight of you.
That was your tipping point. You stopped going to training, you pulled back from family dinners. They were his family first, and you wanted to give him whatever space he needed. Everyone protested, telling you it was his problem, and in Cassian’s words “if he’s going to be a jackass, I don’t want him around anyway.”
Still, you retreated, hardly seeing much of the family you had forged over the past few years. No matter how much it hurts you to do so.
Once you began accepting this new Azriel-less reality, Rhys had called you into his office. The high lord looked almost conflicted, your entire family aware that something weird was happening between you and Azriel. None of them dared to ask Azriel, his darkened mood making it incredibly easy to anger him, and anytime they asked you they were met with a shrug and a soft, “I don’t know.”
All of them had been scratching their heads, desperate for an explanation for the sudden iciness between you two. It had been weeks of this, and everyone missed seeing the two of you exchanging whispers in the corner or watching Azriel’s shadows wind through your hair.
Which was why Rhysand decided to insert himself into the situation. He called you into his office, and after asking you to take a seat, he began asking after your week. Your eyebrows knitted, confused about the formality of it all, when you realized you haven’t actually seen Rhysand in almost a month. 
You had taken up residence in the House of Wind - since you were a scholar it lended easy access to your work, and whenever you wanted to leave, you asked Azriel to ferry you around. You tried to remember the last time you saw anyone in the inner circle that wasn't Cassian or Nesta, and it was when Cassian offered to fly you into town to get lunch with Feyre three weeks ago.
You’re not certain how to tell Rhysand the past few weeks had been filled with silence, whatever happened between you and the shadowsinger led you to avoid Cassian and Nesta, avoid training, avoid anything that wasn’t being buried in your work in the library.
You look into violet eyes, and you check your mental shields because he’s looking at you as if he already knows how sad this whole situation has made you.
You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Time is passing, I suppose.”
Rhys’s face falls a bit at just how dejected you sounded. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - they all knew there was something between you and Azriel, they all saw how you two gravitated towards each other. Neither of you would open up about whatever it was that shifted things so quickly and easily and it was pissing all of them off.
“I need your help with something.”
It was the best plan they could come up with to try to salvage things.
-
You woke up early the next morning, determined to tend to the garden before the sun reached its peak in the sky. You had plans later in the afternoon to meet with a few of the women of the village, but you had to get to working on this garden. There was no time table on this mission, and the two of you only had food stores to last you a few months.
If you were to be stuck in this purgatory that long, you needed new food to replenish whatever you use.
Your story to tell the villagers was that the two of you were quite young from the other end of Illyria. The two of you were extraordinarily lucky that one of the older fae males in this village happened to pass away a few weeks ago, allowing the two of you an easy in. You merely reviewed some family records, and were posing as his beloved niece, here to lead a new life with her husband.
You tended to the garden behind the house - the weeds had grown wildly in the previous owner’s absence. Your ‘uncle's absence, that is.
You spent all morning pulling weeds, making quite an improvement to the garden before you decided to go in and make yourself lunch. You came in, rinsing the dirt from your fingers, the water feeling nice against some of the minor cuts you acquired outside. After drying off, you pulled out a loaf of bread, slicing the bread to prepare some sandwiches. 
You hummed to yourself, trying to fill the silence of the house. It wasn’t large - a quaint two bedroom house with two bathrooms, a nice little kitchen, and a sitting room. You were a bit surprised at how well the interior of the house had been maintained by your ‘uncle’. 
Azriel was headed with the rest of the males to the war camp, spending his day training as a lesser ranked Illyrian. He was glamoured to look enough not like himself to the other Illyrians that they wouldn’t think anything of him. You had also glamoured some of Azriel’s siphons, only allowing one on his chest to remain. He was not happy about it, not wanting to seem so much weaker than he truly was. He wouldn’t listen to any of your points about it, but Rhys eventually convinced him to allow your glamour to cover six of his siphons because “it’s quite obvious who you are”.
Azriel’s refusal to listen to even your opinions on the mission was grating. You wanted to get to know the local females, and Rhys agreed with you, but Azriel kept arguing that ‘it wasn’t safe’.
Stupid Illyrians and their stupid pigheadedness, you suppose. If you’re not supposed to speak with the other females, why were you even here?
You knew this mission would be difficult for Azriel - his hatred for his own people fueling centuries of anger and resentment. You thought being trapped here was an appropriate punishment for how he had iced you out of his life.
You had just finished making your sandwich when there was a knock at the door. You brushed your hands down your dress, glamouring wings back to life behind you, breathing deeply before you answered the door.
An Illyrian woman stood in your doorway, her dark curls slightly hiding her tanned face that was turned down. She was taller and broader than you, but still small for an Illyrian. Her demeanor told you they treated her that way as well. Her wings were tucked in tight behind her and her shoulders shook lightly before you.
Her voice was weak as she told you, “we go every day, bringing lunch to the males, if you wish to accompany us.”
Wish.
You knew the reality of coming here - you knew they would give a few days of grace to settle in, set up your garden, bereave your uncle before they assigned you to a chore rotation. In communities like this one, everyone had to pull their weight.
It was just astonishing how ‘pulling your own weight’ made the females seem two to three times heavier than the males.
You nod your head to the female, closing the door behind you as you meet her outside. You had no idea where the war camp was, knowing it mustn’t be too far from the village. You vaguely remember Azriel and Rhys discussing the three villages that filtered into the camp, how all three were short walks from the villages.
Dirt crunches beneath your boots as you walk alongside the female, her deep brown eyes downcast towards the ground, shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible as you walk. “What’s your name?” You ask, your voice causing her to flinch. Her eyes were wide as they looked at you, shock at being addressed you presumed. It was astonishing how awfully they must treat her, because her face resembled a wounded dog’s.
“Kaltrina.” Her words are mumbled, and you have to strain your ears a little to hear her. 
“Kaltrina - it’s nice to meet you. Um, are you married?”
Not your usual first question, but around these parts marriage was as good as social standing. Also any unwed women over the age of 24 were considered ‘unwanted’ or ‘untameable’. This village was harsh on women - even by Illyrian standards. The males of this village made Devlon look forward and free-thinking.
“No, not married. I live with my brother, Dardan.”
Her tone didn’t suggest anything about him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. She offers you a smile and a soft nod, “is your husband nice?”
You offer the same soft nod before you hear her say, “he’s quite good looking, too.”
You pause, trying to remember everything Cassian and Rhysand had told you about Illyrians to prepare for this - they told you males were incredibly territorial, treating their wives more like trophies and laborers rather than spouses. A male would take this as a compliment - one mention of a good-looking wife would be something to boast about, mentioning it more than once would be an offense.
But how did the females treat their husbands, how did they speak to each other about them? It was the biggest gap in your knowledge, but you suppose you can explain away any discrepancies on how far away the two of you came from.
“Yes, he’s quite pretty.”
She giggles at your words, and you feel a swell of pride at getting it right. She walks next to you, standing a little straighter for the rest of the walk.
The two of you made it to the war camp, joining the other females to distribute food to the males. The males look at you like you’re not much more than a piece of meat or some dirt on their boots, but your eyes scanned the crowd for Azriel, not finding him the entire time you’re there.
You do get a chance to speak with a few of the females as you all head back to the village, carrying leftover food with you. Most of them seem to welcome you - suggesting what crops grow best in the area, telling you to reach out if you need any help with anything.
The other females head off at the fork in the road, telling you and Kaltrina they would see you the next day. You breathe deeply, looking to Kaltrina once more. She hardly spoke once the two of you had met up with the other females at the war camp, keeping her distance from them the entire time.
“How’s your brother?” You ask, the innocent question causing Kaltrina to flinch. 
“He’s a fine male.”
Her answer feels so dry, so rehearsed. You don’t press the issue, changing topics instead. “How will you spend the rest of the afternoon?”
“Chores.”
You listen to the birds singing around the both of you, their song a beautiful melody across the skies. You eventually pass a house similar to your own, but a bit smaller, the roof not well cared for. Kaltrina gives you a small wave before turning down the path to her house, disappearing behind the door. 
You kept walking towards your own house, but you did see her appear in the window briefly, watching you walk down the road. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, but you quickly looked forward again, making your way back to the house, determined to finish unpacking this afternoon.
-
You had finished unpacking by the time you heard the door open, Azriel traipsing through the house. 
“Hello my loving husb-“
Your sarcastic words die as you turn to see his face, a cut on his lip and a black eye. He shakes his head, trying to tell you it’s nothing, and he starts moving to just head to his room, but you’re not having it.
“We have some bandages in the bathroom.” Your words don’t have a command in them, but he heads towards the bathroom. You pick up a bottle of alcohol, dabbing some on a rag. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and he goes.
You’re a few inches from his face, the closest you’ve been in months. His scent was so comforting, you just wanted to wrap yourself in it and stay for a while. He stays silent, his face a blank slate you could slap any emotion to. 
His shadows have been having fun whizzing around the house. He had told them they had to stay completely hidden if they were to come to the war camp with him, otherwise they had to stay in the house or go off wherever they wanted. They didn’t like the options, but most of them stayed with him, tucked into his boots, his pants, the hilt of his sword. Now that he was back, they scattered across the house, energetic wisps of darkness moving through the house, through your hair, against your skin.
“What happened?”
He huffed, his fingers dancing on his thighs in irritation. “I’m a new male, they’re just seeing if I can take it.”
You nod, and from the irritation in his voice, you know he’s shutting you back out. You hold the alcohol covered rag up to his lip, cleaning the blood from his face. He had healed a good bit since he received the beating, and you notice his knuckles are bloody. 
Hopefully he put up a good enough fight. 
“I went with some of the women to the war camp to distribute food.”
His eyes snap to yours, his wings rustling behind him. His eyes were dark, a look to them you’ve never seen directed at you. He reaches his hand up to your wrist, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
You’re taken aback by his tone - even if your relationship was tenuous, he never took such an aggressive tone with you. In all your years of friendship, the most strain in his voice you had heard directed at you was when you were free climbing up the cabinets of the kitchen to get to the top shelf for some cookies.
“Because Rhys thinks-”
“I don’t give a damn what Rhys thinks when it comes to you, I said it was a bad idea and to stay away from them.”
“They’re battered females, Azriel! The males treat them like dirt! And their friends and sisters and mothers have gone missing. I can help them, I know I can - that’s why we’re here!”
His hand tensed around you before he pulled his hand away from you. He looks away from you, his harsh breathing echoing through the small bathroom.
“You’ll only get yourself hurt by talking to them.”
He snatched the rag from your hand, pushing past you out the bathroom and into his room, slamming the door on your once again. You want to scream or stomp your feet at how ridiculous he was being.
“I’m not a kid you can boss around, Azriel.”
His silence didn’t make you so certain about that.
-
The next week goes by much like your first full day in the village - you wake up after Azriel’s gone, tend to the house (your ‘uncle’ left it in semi-decent shape, but it did need a few repairs), head with Kaltrina to the war camp to feed the males (where you were even able to meet Kaltrina’s brother and several of the female’s husbands), and spend your afternoon preparing dinner for the two of you.
You’re not on speaking terms with Azriel after his outburst while you cleaned him up - every day he’s returned with some minor cut and scrape, and all you do is point to the alcohol and provide him with fresh rags. You won’t clean him up yourself, you’re too pissed at him for that, but you still urge him to do it himself
You still care, despite it all. 
Despite the ice between you and Azriel, the females of the village began opening up to you, accepting you as one of their own. You join them every day to serve lunches to the males, and several of them even invited you to their homes to help teach you how to cook with the regional vegetables. 
“Your husband’s too skinny,” one said, “I’ll teach you how to cook.”
You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, but you took it for what it was - an offering. You spent the afternoon with her, learning how to smoke pig ‘the correct way’. She had told you her name was Bora, she and her husband have lived in this village for several centuries, and she has had many, many smoked pigs.
“None compare to my family recipe.”
She was quite intimidating, and you could tell she took shit from no one, not even her husband. You were touched that she would share her family recipe with you so readily, thinking perhaps she took a special interest in you until another female stopped by and, after telling her Bora was teaching you her family recipe, she told you, “it’s how she inaugurates new females to the village’.
You were less touched and your ego deflated a bit, but you were still grateful she would spend so much time with you. The afternoon flew by, time not registering as you helped Bora peel her vegetables while the pork cooked. 
You looked up, noting the dark sky through the window, dropping the zucchini. “Oh no,” you mutter, running out of the house to the road, eyes wide to find Azriel running up the road, blades drawn. His siphon was glowing in the dark, it’s cobalt blue blazing with intensity.
He was frantic, and you could have sworn you saw his shadows frantically zipping around him, moving in and out of houses. His body visibly relaxes as he spots you, rushing towards you. His arms wrap around you, crushing you into an embrace. His breathing is ragged, “I thought- I thought- you-”
His words come out choppy, but he pulls back, his hands on your face. He’s breathing hard, trying to string words together. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement.
“Is everything alright?”
Bora’s voice startles Az, and one of his shadows whips into a defensive position before you shoo it away. He quickly collects himself, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you to his chest.
“Sorry, I got worried when I got home and my wife wasn’t there.”
He pats your hair, his hands combing through them softly. “Just need her to be safe, s’all.”
Bora nods, perhaps more understanding than she should be of Azriel’s concern. “Ah, to be newly married again. She was safe,” she turns away before adding, “she’s always safe here with Bora.” 
The older female waddles back inside for a moment before coming back out to the two of you, the tray of pork and vegetables on it. “Here’s dinner tonight - Bora’s family recipe.” She winks at you, and the two of you politely thank her before heading back to your house. You carried the tray, but Azriel kept both of his hands on you the entire walk back.
The walk back is mostly quiet, Azriel’s heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline leaves his body. You swivel your head around, noticing no one out in the village at this hour.
“Why were you being so nice and touchy to me out there and anytime we see the neighbors?” Your words come out barely more than a whisper, but you knew he heard them. “The men in this village hardly view their wives as more than livestock, it might be more suspicious for you to be so nice to me.”
He turned, just enough for you to see the side of his face, to watch his mouth as he said, “I could never do that to you.”
You spent the rest of the walk in silence, spending the entire time dissecting the way he said “you”.
-
Your house with Azriel is still quiet, the two of you living separate lives behind the oak door. Sleeping apart, eating dinner in different rooms. You two only spoke when you were outside of the house. 
A few days after cooking with Bora, you and Kaltrina were headed back to the village from the camps for lunch when she offered to help you make dinner. 
“I want to say thanks, for being my friend.”
Her words make you feel terrible over how strange you had found her. Maybe she was just awkward. You weren’t sure, but you knew you’d be safe inside your own home, so you agreed to let her stay. 
The two of you prepare dinner, Kaltrina seeming a bit nervous as she skitters about your kitchen. You make idle small talk, but the air in the room seems so off you can’t put your finger on it.
“What will your brother be doing for dinner tonight?” 
She looks a bit downcast as she tells you, “he has plans tonight, he’s eating at his friend’s house.”
Her tone tells you not to ask anymore, and you don’t press the issue any further. 
The two of you eat in silence, Kaltrina’s eyes moving around your house, taking in every detail. She excuses herself to the bathroom, and you show her where it is. 
In Kaltrina’s absence, Azriel makes his way through the front door, his shadows beginning to spread throughout the house in contentment. You quickly shake your head at the tiny wisps that come to you, sending them back to Azriel. You point towards the bathroom, jerking your head at the noises from behind the door trying to tell him someone was here.
The water runs, and Azriel quickly moves across the room, his arms circling your waist. Your eyebrows pinch, but you quickly relax them as Kaltrina leaves the bathroom. Her steps halt at seeing Azriel, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.
“Kaltrina, this is my husband. Valon, this is my friend, Kaltrina.”
He nods to her before squeezing your waist and giving a swift kiss to your temple. Kaltrina’s eyes linger on the display of affection, not breaking contact even moments later. Azriel rubs your back, eyes fond as he looks to you, “I’m going to head to bed, take your time with your friend, but don’t leave me waiting too long.”
Was that a signal? You two slept in separate rooms - what did his words mean? You lean up, kissing his cheek before rubbing at his jaw and nodding. He turns his attention towards Kaltrina, “it was nice meeting you Kaltrina, my wife is quite fond of you. Have a good night.”
Her mouth is slightly ajar, her cheeks a harsh shade of red as she squeaks, “good night.”
Azriel nods at her and he slips into your bedroom, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You turn back to Kaltrina, her eyes lingering on the door to your bedroom, and you could almost feel the yearning radiating from her. 
“Come on, we should clean up a bit.” The two of you head into the kitchen, cleaning and scraping the dirty dishes from earlier. You two work in silence, the only sounds in the room are the scrubbing of pots.
“Your husband seems quite nice.”
Her voice is full of want and yearning. You stop cleaning pots before you, Kaltrina’s eyes fixed on you until you look. She turns her eyes away, looking back to the pots.
“Yes, he is very kind.”
“He’s unlike any of the males around here.”
This conversation felt a bit dangerous. Azriel said it was fine, that he couldn’t treat you the way any of these males treat their wives - like servants, like cattle, like nothing. But you knew the females of the village would notice how he treated you, if they haven’t already. You start to wonder if they had noticed, discussing the odd outsiders, figuring the two of you out, getting you-
“He’s very good-looking.”
Kaltrina’s voice startles you, and you look to find her not even looking at you, gazing off to some point on the wall. Had she meant to say that out loud? The two of you finish up cleaning, although it is mostly you doing the work, Kaltrina’s gaze is lost somewhere on your kitchen wall. You quickly escort her out, wishing her a good night. You offer to walk her home, but she declines, saying she’ll be fine on her own. 
You close the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Azriel was in your room - your room - the one with the unmade bed, clothes haphazard around the space. You two used to frequent each other’s private chambers, but now you can’t recall the last time he laid in your bed, perused the books on your shelves, or sat in the chair in the corner of your room at the House of Wind.
You push open the door to find him pacing in front of your bed, his shadows lounging lazily on your bed. You nod to him, picking at your fingernails.
“I think it’s Kaltrina. I think she’s the one doing this.”
“Kaltrina?” His voice is full of surprise and misunderstanding. “You think Kaltrina, that little thing is behind all of this?”
“Yes! I just.. Don’t know why.. The way she talks about you…”
“We can’t go off of silly little feelings when convicting someone of a crime, you know.” He stands in front of you, his wings blocking the light from the candles, casting shadows across his face.
“I’m well aware-”
“You have to think - where would she keep them? How could she overpower so many Illyrian women? And besides, why does it matter what she thinks of me?”
Your anger was bubbling to the surface, his condescending tone leading you to yell out, “what the fuck is your problem, Azriel?”
He looks at you, turning away quickly while muttering, “we are not doing this here.” His shadows are ever so slightly trying to push him back towards you, but he ignores their attempts, plowing through them to your kitchen.
“No, I think we are doing this right here, right now. I’ve let too much shit go by and I can’t keep acting like everything’s okay anymore.” You take in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending. Just tell me whatever it was that I did that made you hate me and we can move on!”
“No.”
His curt reply annoys you even more, and you’re directly in front of him poking his chest.
“Just tell me what I did!”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“That’s clearly not the case.”
He groans in frustration, running a hand down his face, but you are unrelenting in your pursuit for the truth.
“We were friends, you used to like spending time with me. I don’t know what happened that made you hate me-”
“I don’t hate you.”
You laugh, “well you could have fooled me. For months everyone’s been asking me what happened between us, and I have no clue! It’s like you woke up one day and decided we couldn’t be friends anymore!”
“That’s not what happened-”
“Oh, it’s not? So you were pretending to be my friend while you secretly hated me before cutting me off one day?”
“I HAD TO.”
His eyes were wide with an almost feral-like look to them. He looked almost more beast than fae.
“I had to. Those fae that were trafficking females and males, they… “ His hand shakes as he curls and uncurls it, his scarred fingers twitching with the motion. “One of my spies found your name in one of their notebooks, reported it to me immediately.”
His ferocity is turned on you, hazel eyes looking into your own, as if he was searching through your soul. “Don’t you get it? They know you, they know who you are.” His voice raised an octave, squeaking, “because of me.”
“So, what? Because someone knew that I was important to you, you cut me off?”
“No it wasn’t-“
“Oh, no, was it that someone pointed out to you that I was important to you and you didn’t like that?” Your voice was raising, getting louder, but you couldn’t care. 
“That’s not-“
“I’m a big girl, Az, I deserve to know everything before making decisions. I don’t deserve my decisions to be taken from me.”
“Will you let me speak?”
His shadows were covering the windows, the doors, the walls. His chest was heaving as he tried to get the words out, tried to make you see.
“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“So instead of explaining this to me, you cut me off like I meant nothing to you? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? Why couldn’t you tell me-”
“You would talk me out of it! Convince me it was in my head. I needed you to be safe, for cauldron’s sake!”
You sniffle, eyes catching on the door. “I have a lot to think about,” is all you say before storming out, closing the door behind you. You walk from the house, your boots sinking into the grass at your feet as you walk aimlessly around the village. Your thoughts whirled and swirled of Azriel’s words, your hands pulling at your hair in frustration.
“Hey, there.”
You whip around, fist raised, to find Dardan looking back at you. You quickly drop your fist - he could still tell the others you showed defiance towards him and you’d be in a lot of trouble. 
“Oh, hey, Dardan, right? I must not have heard you. How are you tonight?”
You try to make your voice sound as pleasant as possible, as feminine as possible. 
“Just taking an afternoon stroll,” he muses, “care to join me?”
You look around, noticing you’re much further from the village than you intended. Even though you were a married female to the rest of the village, it was still disrespectful towards your husband to be seen on the outskirts of town with an unmarried male. 
“Um,” you start turning around, your gut trying to tell you this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “Actually, I should get back to my husband. I need to start working on dinner soon.”
You turned your head just in time for something hard and metal to make contact with it, the last thing in your vision was the ground before complete darkness.
-
Your head was killing you, your neck at an unnatural angle as you opened your eyes. The room was dark, but still too bright for the pounding of your head. You take a deep breath, trying to note your surroundings. 
Your hands were bound behind you, some fabric you should be able to easily pull apart. You were on the ground, some dirt beneath your body as you laid on the cold ground. You began tugging on the fabric, trying to maneuver your hands to slip through the knot.
“Tug all you want, we got a talented witch in these parts.”
Your body goes cold at the voice.
Dardan.
Fuck.
You want to slam your head on something, but there’s nothing. Your breathing speeds up, your mind moving through all your interactions with Dardan.
You thought he was nice. He had been amicable to you at the war camp, you barely even thought of him during this mission. You thought it was Kaltrina. How could you have gotten things so wrong? 
He smiles as he watches your brain try to figure things out. His smugness was a new look for Lee - one that made him look very unattractive. “We knew one of Rhysand’s dogs was bound to show up at some point, just didn’t think they’d bring a pretty bitch like you with ‘em. Color me surprised when my little sister brought you around.”
You snap at his words, “bitches bite.”
He goes by to sharpen whatever knife he was wielding before replying. “We got big plans.”
Dardan wouldn’t say more than that, continuing to sharpen his blade before inspecting it. Once it was to his satisfaction, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you from the ground. You scramble, trying to get your feet on the ground, kicking at the dirt he was dragging you across to gain some footing. His pull on your hair was unrelenting, even as your arms flailed back trying to hit him.
Eventually you’re able to get your feet beneath you, trying to keep up with his steps. He opens the doors to the structure you were kept in, the light of dusk surprising you. There was no way to tell time in that barn.
“It’s almost sunset, girl.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about, trying to take a big inhale so you can scream. The sound was piercing - a loud screech coming from you. Dardan just laughed. “Screech all you want, no one’s around for miles.”
Rhys’s words echo in your mind.
Stay close to Azriel.
A warning you had forgotten when you stormed off. Dardan’s tight grip brings you towards a clearing full of other Illyrians from the village you had been staying in and several of the nearby villages. You’re about to call, to beg them for help, when you notice six of the males are each dragging a female in some way towards the center of the clearing. You can’t see over the wings and heads in front of you, but the crowd parts for your eyes to land on a stone altar with ancient languages carved into it.
The crowd gave enough space for the six Illyrians to stand in a circle around the altar, each one cradling a woman by their neck with a blade pressed to it. You start fighting back against Dardan, trying to scratch him, hit him, but he throws you towards the altar where two winged males stand, catching you in their arms easily. You throw out your hand, making contact with one of their jaws, a soft “bitch” hissed at you. 
You throw your bound hands into the other one’s gut, but the first one grabs your elbow, twisting harshly. You struggle in the hold, winding your head back to headbutt him, but the other one grabs your head, holding it in place. You start kicking your legs out, hoping for any kind of contact, but a male from the crowd comes up and catches your ankles. 
The three males hold onto you, moving you on top of the altar. Your movements do nothing to stop them as they clamp down your feet, moving towards your hands, shackling them to the altar as well. Your pleas to be let go fell on deaf ears.
You turn your head to the left, two of the females coming into your view. Their wings twitched as their captors held them, not much fight in them. You yell to them, begging for them to fight back against the males at their backs. Tears stream down the side of your face, leaking into your ears as you watch their complacency, what they’ve been conditioned for. 
Nausea rolled in your stomach at the idea of how long they’ve been aware of this fate. These girls have been missing for weeks and months of their lives, kept Mother knows where to beat them into compliance. 
They stood at attention, knives to their throats, unmoving. 
Your eyes water seeing Kaltrina amongst them, her eyes downcast.
It was sickening.
Dardan comes from the crowd, looking down at you over the crook of his nose. He raises a knife to your throat, your skin nicking on the blade as your breathing quickened. 
“Any last words?”
You look up at Dardan, mustering every ounce of defiance onto your face as you pull back, spitting into his smug face. His face falls for a moment before wiping the saliva off. Dardan looks towards the sky, “just a moment until sundown. If only your pretty little shadowsinger could be here now, to watch you become the ultimate sacrifice.”
Breathing gets harder as the seconds tick by, knowing the sun will set at any second. You felt a cool breeze blow over you. 
Not a breeze.
A shadow.
“Get your fucking hands off of my mate.”
Your heart stops in your chest, something sparking deep within you at Azriel’s growl of warning in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Dardan’s knife is still pressed to your neck, but you’re able to move your eyes enough to see wisps of shadow pulling the knives away from the necks of the other females in the circle. 
You tilt your head back, barely able to make out Azriel standing behind Dardan, his shadows angrily darting all around him. Several more of them make their way to you, almost cloaking you in the scent of their master.
Dardan’s arrogance doesn’t balk at the sight of Azriel, his grip on the knife tightening. 
“You can drop the ‘mate’ act, freak,” Dardan spat out, his words causing the shadows to whirl in agitation. “We need her-”
In a flash the shadows coating you slithered up your torso, slithering around the wrist that held the blade. They pulled the wrist away, the knife narrowly avoiding slicing your throat. At the same time, Azriel moved for Dardan, his fist connecting with Dardan’s jaw causing a crack across the clearing. Dardan hit the ground, but Azriel dove after him, landing punch after punch.
In the chaos of the fight breaking out, the crowd was in hysterics, all of the males attempting to fly or flee, pools of shadows surfaced at their feet, tripping them up, their bodies slowly disappearing into the darkness. Some of them tried to crawl from the darkness, but to no avail. The crowd quickly went from about 30 males to just the six females left, all unharmed, huddling together for some form of protection.
Azriel was choking Dardan out, scarred fingers forcing the breath from Dardan’s lungs. “I will enjoy taking my time with you.” Azriel’s words hung in the air as Dardan slowly slipped into the shadows underneath him, but Azriel remained on the grass. He quickly got to this feet, most of his shadows gone, likely to keep the Illyrian prisoners in check.
He stumbles over to you, quickly undoing your binds before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you from the altar.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” are all he says, his words repeating as you feel tears fall onto your shirt. You gripped him just as tightly, finding it easier to breathe in his presence for the first time in ages. 
“I can’t live in fear anymore.”
He lunged for you, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s rushed, full of fear and trepidation. 
But by the cauldron was it warm and full of life. 
He pulled back, wiping spit from his mouth, his fingers covered in blood pushing the hair out of your face. “When I heard that your name was on one of those books, the bond snapped for me. I flew in a rage, killing all those traffickers. But I knew there were more like them out there.”
His eyes were full of regret, “I should have told you, but I thought you’d be safer not knowing. Then I figured this mission was my last time to actually have you, to play pretend.”
You laugh at the ridiculousness of it, pulling him in closer to you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling that deep smell of cedar that you adored more than anything. It felt like coming home.
“I’m still pissed at you for not telling me.”
He chuckles, a deep, warm sound you haven’t truly heard in ages, “can I make it up to you? I won’t keep secrets from you ever again.”
He holds your face in his hands, his own eyes wet with tears. One of his hands pulls away, his tan skin radiant in the moonlight. You bring up your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You keep your eyes on his, “no more secrets. From either of us.”
He nods, a bargain tattoo beginning to snake its way on your skin. 
“No more running.”
The tattoo wove its way on your skin, dark tendrils solidifying where your forearms meet. When you pull your hand away, the tattoo is incomplete, missing the gaps where Azriel’s arm belongs.
Much like a one-sided duet, your tattoos look empty without the other there to complete the song that echoed in your chest, the song that hummed at the sight of him. The bond didn’t feel so much like a snap as a slow sinking, as if you had finally opened your eyes after so long. 
Wrapped in his arms, the two of you had a lot to figure out - the females, what to do with the strange occult Illyrians, but the two of you could do it.
He promised - no more running.
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