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#and i was trying to make sense of things still but she dismissed it
consoledacup · 3 days
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Cannot get what Alice and Will say to Colin out of my head. And it had me thinking about everyone's different reactions to hearing about Colin helping Penelope.
Alice and Will were pretty offended and affronted by Colin's blatant and rude dismissal of Will when he tried to warn him about Cousin Jack. When Colin brings his acquaintances to the bar at the end of s2 and thanks Will for his warning, I bet Alice and Will were like, he's a good egg. They probably admired his sincerity and were happy he brought them business. So they most likely developed a soft spot for Colin.
Alice is very new to the ton when she calls Colin gallant. The Mondriches are still learning the roles in which everyone plays. So instead of seeing Colin's help as scandalous or pathetic, the Mondriches can easily connect what he did to how he handled himself in s2. He's just a good dude, and they know it.
Hyacinth reads as much Whistledown as she can, but she still is not out and therefore not there to witness the societal structure of the ton. So she also admires Colin for helping Penelope. And Penelope herself also reiterates how kind he was to help her. She might be on the outskirts of every social function, but she wields societal power in a way that is unmatched. And she can see through the rules of propriety because, sometimes, she writes new ones.
And every other character who reacts to what he does sees his assistance as something different. Even Eloise, who still holds disdain for the ton, warns him about the scandal. Which makes sense because she's trying desperately to align herself with the winning side this season, while also nursing her broken heart.
All of this goes back to Violet's comment about people pleasing. People pleasing is not martyrdom. Those are two very different things. So Anthony was a martyr to the point that Daphne called him out on it. Colin's a people pleaser.
There is a dark and self-serving side to people pleasing. It's not about helping others. It's seeking the approval of others. It's going against what feels natural and right and doing what you think you should be doing or feeling how you think you should be feeling. So Colin has grown up, learning every aspect of societal norms. Despite the squabbles they get into, he thinks the world of Anthony. And he's watched Anthony and Benedict become men and thinks, well I should be doing that too. I should be acting like them and then, perhaps, I can command respect. And that idea is proven right when Anthony buys a Colin a drink for having so many admirers.
So when Debling pops up, Colin's obviously upset and jealous. He sees this older, richer, titled guy who has a lot going on, is serious about his work, and is easily winning Penelope's affections. But I think he's also threatened by Debling's apparent lack of concern for how people see him. He owns his peculiarities in a way that Colin didn't think was possible for esteemed members of the ton.
That's why his behavior at the Queen's Ball is such a payoff. He had learned how to successfully master society's game. But in the end, none of it mattered if he couldn't be his authentic self. None of it mattered if he couldn't have the one person who truly understood him.
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pit-and-the-pen · 2 days
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I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 3
A tiny bit of a shorter update here y'all. I promise there's a ton in the next chapter that I have planned but I just wanted to get this part out.
warnings: Drinking, slightly suggestive actions/thoughts
WC: 9.3k
Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1] [chapter 2]
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Feyre didn't make it to the prison that next day. Her and Rhys had not been gone for an hour before Rhys was winnowing her back into the living room. Feyre was as pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. The concern that laced Rhys’ face was enough to stop me from asking how it went, was enough to stop everyone in the room from asking. Feyre didn’t stay to talk, turning on her heel and stalking towards her room. 
I watched as she ascended the stairs, taking note of the stiffness of her shoulders. 
“She saw it was underground and couldn’t do it.” Was the only explanation I was given. I nodded, fully understanding. A variable none of us had even thought to consider, the prison was scary enough on its own. But add fifty feet of rock above your head, after that damned mountain, I Feyre didn’t come out of her room again that day. 
The next morning, I once again found myself outside her door too scared to knock. Too scared of her rejecting my company to bring her any semblance of comfort. It was the cowards move and I hated that I couldn’t bring myself to check on her. The tiny sniffles I could hear through the heavy wooden door let me know the full extent of the effect that place had on her. 
I sensed someone standing behind me and almost jumped when I saw Armen beside me. The two of us had a lukewarm relationship at best. She respected me only as much as was polite, I was her high lord's sister after all. But that’s where that relationship started and ended. I respected her as part of my brother's court, and quite frankly, I was terrified of her. 
“If you won’t then I will.” She said in a bored tone. “I know you heard her last night too.” I had. Feyre vomiting her guts out, screaming from nightmares, then more vomiting. It was something I was all too familiar with. The things that creep into our sleep, images from that vile place where she had lost her humanity. Amren simply rolled her eyes and strolled into the room, leaving me flustered at the doorway. I didn’t stay around to listen to their conversation. Instead I went down to the kitchen, finding my hands suddenly far too empty. 
In a matter of minutes I had pulled out all the ingredients to make breakfast. Grabbing a whisk to start mixing, I sensed someone else in the room. I looked up and was met with the eyes of my brother. A slightly worried look in his eyes, he knew I only cooked when something was on my mind. I just shrugged my shoulders at him, dismissing the concern. He didn’t say anything as he sat at one of the stools in the kitchen. Both of us content to sit in the other’s silence. Cassian came in only for me to shoo him out when he kept picking at the food as I made it. The action made the three of us howl with laughter. 
The next day, Feyre seemed to be in better spirits. I noticed her hand tracing over the necklace Amren had given her yesterday. Some random glittery trinket Rhys had gifted her one year for Solstice. I don’t know what the ancient fae had told her to make Feyre clutch it like it was a life line. Rhys eyed Amren who just waved him off with her usual casual coolness. 
“Ready then?” He asked Feyre. She gulped but nodded. And like that they were off. 
That’s when the waiting began. Everyone sat with perfect Fae stillness as we waited for Rhys and Feyre to return. All holding a collective breath for that information that could save us all. At some point I had lit a fire just to have something to do with my hands. The book that I had been trying to read all morning lay untouched by my feet. Mor was lounging next to Cassian. Azriel was brooding at the window, his wings twitching slightly at the tension in the room. Shadows a nervous flurry at his feet. Amren has slinked off the moment Rhys had winnowed away. 
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a crack cut through the silence in the room. The familiar smell of the prison lingered on Feyre and Rhys as they appeared in the living room. I couldn’t help the careful eye I ran over the both of them, assessing for any damage. A sigh of relief left me when I couldn’t find any. 
“How’d it go?” Mor finally broke the silence, trying and failing to keep her voice casual. Feyre was already splayed out in an armchair closest to the hearth. She stretched, rubbing at her arms, like she couldn’t get warm enough.  Rhys went to pick at a piece of invisible lint on his leathers. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“The bone carver is nothing more than a busybody.” He simply said. We all looked for him for a scrap of more information. 
“And?” I snapped. 
“And, he can be helpful when he wants to be. It seems we need to do what we do best.” His violet eyes shone with a flicker of mischief at his words. “Hybern has the Cauldron.” I couldn't contain the gasp that tumbled out of me. For the first time since my brother had left, Azriel moved. Perching on the arm of the couch I was sitting on. 
“What does that mean for us?” Azriel asked sharply. 
“It means that we finally know the cause behind all the destruction as of late.” Rhys ran a hand through his hair, eyes flickering to Feyre who looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion. “But it also means that we are severely overpowered.” 
“Did you learn how to stop it?” 
“The Carver mentioned two books that could nullify it, that Feyre could use to nullify it.”
“Those books haven’t been seen in centuries, Rhys.” I interjected. He nodded, hands again running over his hair. 
“The location was one thing that the Carver was nice enough to gift us.” I shuddered at the tone of his voice. I didn’t want to think of what he or Feyre had to offer for that bit of information. 
“One piece rests in Summer and the other with the human Queens.” Rhys continued. 
“I’ll reach out to my sources in Summer to see if I can track down the exact location. I can also personally visit the human lands and see what I can find on the other piece.” Azriel started immediately. Ever the busy spymaster. 
“No. I don’t trust this information with anyone outside of this room, save for Armen. Not before we know who will actually stand besides us. If that book were to get into the wrong hands, we might as well surender right now.” Azriel tensed at my brother's words. I placed a gentle hand over his knee. A casual gesture that had him relaxing his shoulders ever so slightly. He gave Rhys a small nod of agreement. 
“What does that mean for us?” Mor spoke out. 
“As far as I’m concerned, Hybern has already declared war. That was our temple he sacked last to get a missing piece of the cauldron.”
“We need to find a way to get to the cauldron then.” My words gained a nod from Rhys. “It will likely be heavily warded, more than you could even break through Rhys. And then there’s the issue of even finding it. Hybern’s land is incredibly large and there's no guarantee he wouldn’t stash it somewhere else in Prythian.” 
“We think that since the pieces are spelled by individual High Lords, their power can find it. Besides actually wielding the book, it seems like we might have our very own key to finding those pieces.” Four pairs of eyes all turned in sync to Feyre. She cringed when she met our eyes. 
“We don’t know that for sure…” She started. 
“But it would make sense. You contain a kernel of all of their powers. I saw it get transferred to you. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to find them.” 
“And there’s a way to test it.” Rhys said with a wicked grin. “It will require us going on a little trip, to see if you can find a very important thing that I have been missing for a very long time.” 
“Rhys..” I started but Mor’s echoing “shit.” cut me off.
“Where?” Feyre said, voice trembling. 
“The Weaver.” I spoke at the same time as Azriel. 
“You can’t be serious…” I started, voice rising at the sheer audacity of my brother. 
“The test will be to see if Feyre can detect something that has my magic on it. If she can find that then I am confident it’ll work with other objects.” I had half a mind to slap that dignified look off of my brother's face. Feyre might not know what exact object was at the Weavers cottage but the rest of us did. 
I sunk in on myself. Mind drifting far away, tuning out the rest of their conversation. 
I felt a prod at my mental walls. You’re unhappy. Rhys spoke into my head. 
You’re playing games. I responded. It’s necessary and this way I know she’ll be safe. You think I would ever put her at serious risk? I shook my head, pushing him out of my mind. He winced at the force behind the action. I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I picked at my nails until Rhys' voice pulled me out of whatever was stewing in my brain.
“Emissary. Emissary to the Night Court- for the human realm.” The sound that left me was a mix between a gasp and a scoff. I ripped my hand off of its place on Azriel’s knee. Simply unable to put up with my brother's game at the moment. Azriel mumbled out my name as I stood up, walking out of the room. I shot Feyre a sympathetic look to let her know my leaving had nothing to do with her. She didn’t even glance my way, eyes flickering instead between Rhys and Azriel, who were now arguing in full force. 
When I reached my room, I could already feel the edges of a headache creeping over my vision. My hand came up to rub at my temples. I didn’t hear anything from anyone the rest of the day, the only sign I had even received that the arguing had stopped was Rhys popping his head into my room to tell me we were leaving early in the morning. I merely gave him a vulgar gesture with my finger before he slammed the door on his way out. Grabbing a pillow from the edge of my bed, I held it up to my head and let out a loud scream. 
This was all too much. Prythian had barely survived one war. And that was when the entirety of it was fighting together and my stupid, oversure brother thought that we could win it before it even started. Throwing the pillow across the room in frustration, I flopped onto the bed. Mind already starting to race with the possibilities and outcomes. All the wrong moves that could see everyone in my family dead in a matter of minutes. We were playing a dangerous game and I didn’t like how carelessly Rhys was thinking about things. A small part knew Rhys would never let Feyre be involved if he thought we stood no chance, so he must have a better plan than the ones I was coming up with. I hoped. 
The morning came far too quickly. I feel like I had just fallen asleep when a shadow had crept into my bed, whispering nonsense into my ear to make me up. They ignored my swats in protests. I groaned, pulling myself up into a sitting position. “Busybodies.” I muttered as the shadow creeped back out of my room, most likely letting Azriel and Rhys know I was awake. 
I dressed slowly, pulling on each layer of clothing with a practiced sort of focus. Hands nimbly fastening the many buckles of my fighting leathers, like I had done a million times before. I reached for the daggers that Cassian and Azriel had gifted me, one from each of them. Their handles encrusted with gems that matched their siphons. The third I slipped in had gems that matched the first diadem I had been gifted from my mother. I tried not to think about all of their significance as I strapped them to the holster on my thigh. I tied my hair up in an updo, one that required as little pins as possible to keep it out of my face. And I went to find my brother. 
It wasn’t hard to figure out why Rhys wanted me to accompany them. Having both of us there would be an extra layer of protection in case this all went to shit. The little bit of my power that had returned combined with Rhys’ would be more than enough to stop the Weaver. I couldn’t fully dampen a room but I had successfully snuffed out a candle or faelight more than a handful of times. Darkness did nothing if you were already blind, but the Weaver relied on scent and hearing. Both of which I had been successful in cutting off from Rhys. Not a hint of my full power but enough to give Feyre time to run if need be.
Once we winnowed into that ancient woods, I had started walking towards the cottage. Having no interest in listening to the distraction my brother had warned me he would be giving Feyre. I tried not to vomit as I listened to his shameless flirting. 
Eventually the trees had thinned out. All rustles of surrounding animals faded into nothing. I held up my hand singling to Rhys and feyre to stop moving. Feyre’s breath caught behind me. The cottage was just in view. The smoke from the chimney is still lingering in the air like a blanket. Rhys gave Feyre a dramatic flourish and bowed, letting her move on her own. She flipped him off which brought a smile to my face. 
I held my breath as I watched her walk into the front door, flinching when it closed behind her. Like an invisible hand had pushed it shut. My head whipped to Rhys and I saw that he had not planned for that. When I went to take a step forward, he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I threw it off but stayed put. No interference. Those were the rules. He said in my mind. 
So we sat and waited. “It’s taking too long, Rhys she can’t find it.” He shook his head. 
“No she has to.” 
“Not right this minute, it’s not like…” A blood curdling scream cut off my words. My dagger was in my hand faster than I could think. Body tensed for whatever had caused that scream. Some part of me knew it wasn’t Feyre. No, I had become all too familiar with the sound of her screams under the mountain. 
Faster than a streak of light, Feyre was bounding across the roof. At the same time the front door of the cottage flung open, The Weaver screaming for Feyre. Rhys and I shot each other a look before we were running after Feyre. Chasing her through the tree branches that she was running over. Rhys was able to climb up and perched on the end of one of the branches she would find herself in front of any second. 
“What the hell did you do?” He said coolly. Feyre skidded to a stop. Blood rose to her cheeks and I saw the pure fury in her eyes as she hissed at him. He cut her off before he wrapped an arm around both of us, winnowing the both of us back to Velaris.
I was able to winnow enough to get me on the balcony of the house of wind, I landed just in time to see Rhys’ wings appear. When I opened the door, Cassian and Amren had my map sprawled out in front of them. Clearly in the middle of an argument. 
Feyre had barely stepped into the threshold of the house before she vomited on the floor. Cassian cursed and Armen had it cleaned up with a quick flick of her wrist. 
Feyre had explained what had happened in the cottage. Anger creeped through me as she explained. I shot Rhys a glare that said I told you so. 
“And where were you two?” Amren hissed at my brother and I. I felt shame creep up through the anger. 
“Far enough away to help if need be. But she got out.” Rhys answered evenly. Feyre yelled at him. 
“I’m training with you, if the offer still stands.” Feyre said, ignoring Rhys. “I want to have another option besides running.” 
“Running very well might have saved your life today.” I said in return. She gave me a nasty side eye. 
“I want to be useful if it ever comes down to a fight.” Was all she said and Cassian nodded. 
After that, she seemed to remember something and she all but threw the ring at Rhys, who scrambled to catch it before it fell to the ground. Even I flinched towards it. The motion wasn’t lost of feyre and she raised an eyebrow at me in question. 
“How’d you lose it anyways?” 
“I didn’t. My mother gave it to me, then took it back when I reached maturity and then gave it to the Weaver for safekeeping.” I rolled my eyes at his half truth. She looked like she was about to lay into him before Rhys was grabbing her hand and left out the window. Probably getting them far enough to winnow back to the townhouse. I didn’t follow after them. 
Cassian let loose a heavy sigh and I nodded along. 
“He’s got it bad.” 
“Tell me about it.” 
“So your mothers ring…” 
“I don’t want to talk about it, Cassian.” I waved him off. Grabbing a bottle of wine out of the cabinet before I walked towards one of the empty rooms in the house. 
“Training with me, tomorrow morning.” Cassian was not asking. And my only answer was the sound of the cork popping out of the bottle in my hand. 
Cassian stuck to his words. He dragged me out of bed at sunrise despite my protests. He was having absolutely none of it. 
“Feyre’s coming and I want you to be there.” Bastard. He was playing dirty and knew it would work. He smirked as I pushed him out of the room so I could get changed. 
Feyre joined us a little after we had gotten warmed up. 
“I want you to watch for a little bit. Before we get into the basics.” Feyre made a discontent noise. “I can’t just throw you into the ring with one of us without having some foundation. Sure you can use a bow, but in hand to hand, you wouldn’t last a second.” Blunt. But true. Feyre’s face showed that she knew this. So she hung back as Cassian and Azriel squared off to each other. 
It was nearly impossible to follow their movements. They eventually slowed down enough to follow. To track the perfectly timed punches and dips. Cassian and Azriel fought with an easy grace. The sign of centuries of practice. My eyes tracked every roll of muscle, Azriel being shirtless didn’t help my gawking. Eventually they broke apart and I had to remind myself how to close my jaw. Unaware of the way it had parted slightly. Even Feyre looked overly interested. 
“Alright. Now, time for princess to get in here.” I groaned and he shot me a withering glare. “She’ll be the best example for you to follow Feyre. Just polished enough to not get hurt and do some damage along the way.” 
“Thank you for the glowing compliment Cassian.” He just smiled at me, gesturing for me to get in front of him. I pushed myself off the rock I was leaning against. I gave Feyre an overly sweet smile that had pulled a small laugh out of her. 
Cassian didn’t waste a second once I found my footing. He was relentless. Throwing powerful punch after powerful punch. I willed myself to follow his movements, trying my best to predict them. His movements far too fast for my mind to keep up with. So I took a deep breath and pulled from that same spot I had been practicing with Rhys. Cassian cursed loudly and I know it worked. The thin black mist that reached out to him even further proof. He stumbled slightly as I took his sight. It was just for long enough that I was able to grab his fist as he swung blindly. I used my hold and his unstable feet to flip over him. I had his arm pressed against his back. The perfect angel that with a simple twist would break his arm. He shouted at me and I pulled back my powers, granting him his sight back. 
“Not fair.” He panted out as I pushed him out of my hold. He caught himself with a fighter's grace, pulling himself onto his feet in one fluid motion. 
“Oh suck it up you baby.” I said with a laugh at his outraged expression.
“You never told us you got your powers back.” Azriel spoke from the sidelines. I shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. And truly it wasn’t. I could already feel the toll that little bit had taken on me. 
“Fine, you want to play that way…” Cassian started. “Azriel.” He finished. My head whipped to look at Cassian who was wearing a shit eating grin. I looked back to Azriel who just raised a challenging eyebrow at me. Never one to back down so easily, I gave him an exhausted wave of my hand. Singling him closer. We stood across from each other. Sizing each other up. Azriel and I haven't ever really sparred like this. Not hand to hand. Since we both favored daggers, it was always with weapons. I don’t even know if I could hit him. But I tried not to let that show on my face as I made the first move. He easily stepped out of the way, dodging my lunge at him. I whipped around and went to sweep his leg but he managed to dodge it again. A small smirk on his face as I looked up at him. My eyebrows set in a determined line and I forced myself to swing for his stomach. He grabbed my arm with ease, pushing it to the side and making me wobble trying to regain my footing. 
“Stop dancing and actually fight.” 
Cassian’s words had his head snap to him for just a second. But it was all the time I needed to flip him onto his back. His hands instantly grabbed on my hips as we fell to the ground. I heard the breath whoosh out from him, mostly in surprise as he stared up at me. Hazel eyes gleaming with something I didn’t want to think about. We just sat looking at each other before I leaned down and whispered in his ear. 
“I think I like having you on your back. I should do it more often.” With a graceful swing of my legs, I suddenly was standing above him. He seemed to still be in shock and I nearly doubled over laughing. Rolling my eyes , I offered him a hand to stand up. He could have gotten up by himself. But I wanted to touch his skin, feel the warmth of his body again. My hips still felt the ghost of his touch like he had burned his touch into the skin underneath. He took my hand and instead of pulling himself up, he pulled me down. I yelped in surprise as he quickly flipped me over. Hovering over me, his arms caged around me so no parts of him were touching me. A far more restrained move than me straddling his hips just  a few moments ago. I went to shove his chest and he caught my arm, pinning it above my head. All of my focus zeroed on that exact spot, his hand on my wrist. It took every bit of restraint I had to bite back the whimper building in my throat at the action. I shifted under him, trying to wiggle out of his grasp and that only made him grab my wrist tighter. 
“What are you going to do now princess?” He rasped near my ear. Mirroring my early actions of leaning down close to me. That stupid nickname, the way it dripped off of his lips had my whole body heating up. It was too much. I could only suck in heavy breaths of his scent and it lit my whole body on fire. I ignored the urge to wrap my leg around his back and pull him against me. Instead I pulled my leg up and used my knee to push him off of me. Probably a little harder than necessary. He clearly wasn’t expecting it as he fell back, hands resting on either side of him. We both sat, chests rising and falling with heavy breaths, unable to look away from each other. I said nothing as I stood up, brushing the dirt off of my pants and walked over to where Cassian was standing. I might have added a little extra sway to my hips. 
“Close your mouth, you’ll let flies in.” I all but growled lowly to Cassian as I approached his side. 
“So we’re just going to ignore whatever that was?” Cassian said, his eyebrow raised at me. I wanted to ignore him too.
“We’re absolutely going to” I absolutely would not. But I wasn’t about to talk about it with Cassian of all people. As it was he was probably never going to let me live it down. I tried my hardest not to think about what Azriel had felt like underneath me. How his hands seemed so sure as they gripped my hips. The small quiet grunt that left his lips from his back hitting the ground. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to think about his gravelly voice in my ear. No, I would absolutely not think about Azriel for the rest of the day. 
I passed Feyre from her position on the outside of the training ring. She raised an eyebrow at me before falling into step next to me. “If training always looks like that, I might have joined you all earlier.” She playfully hit my shoulder with her own and I fought the urge to groan. The action was so similar to Rhy that it was almost funny. They were absolutely perfect for each other, if he would only ever tell her they were mates. “So you and Azriel…” Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow at her. She gave me a dramatic roll of her eyes, “How long have two been together.” My legs froze. When her words had fully sunk in, I started roaring with laughter. I doubled over and rested my hands on my knees. I was finally able to compose myself, I stood up and wiped the stray tear from my eye. 
“I was serious.” She said, a confused look on her face. 
“Sizing up the competition are we?” I said to her,
“Dodging the question, are we?” Her smile only grew as mine faded. “So not together then, I just thought…” I raised my hand to stop her, unable to hear anymore. 
“He’s my brother’s best friend, his brother.” Was all I offered her. She looked like she wanted to press the issue but thought better of it. I left out a small sigh of relief as we walked back up to the house. 
Somewhere in the day, after  I cleaned away the sweat and grime from training, Mor came into my room. “We’re going to Rita’s tonight, if you want to come along?” Her eyes shone with mischief and I knew even if I didn’t want to, I would be going.
Mor didn’t even bother knocking as she came back with an arm full of dresses for me to try on. I had no shortage in my own closet but who was I to deny her the opportunity to play dress up. 
She held up the first one for me to see, a striking red color that looked like it would show more than it covered. I laughed at the idea. “That’s far more your color than it is mine.” She beamed a smile at me and put it in a separate pile. Dress after dress was pulled out and presented to me, each one more and more revealing. I groaned inwardly at the scrap of a black dress she held up for me. I shook my head.
“Maybe I should just stay home.” I sighed. She gave me a dramatic pout.
“You haven’t seen the last one yet.” She held it out and I knew that was the one she had been saving. 
It wasn’t exactly his shade of blue, and that made it even more perfect. Far enough off that it could be written off as a coincidence. The look Mor gave me told me she had that very thought when she picked it out. A deep scoop for the neck line, held together by a silver ring, a similar cut out right below it. It looked like it would stop about mid-thigh. Mor threw the dress into my arms and pushed me into the bathroom. 
“We don’t have all day so get your cute ass in the dress.” She said as the door closed and I laughed loud enough for her to hear it through the wood. I stripped off my pajamas and realized the dress would not allow for any type of bra, so I took that off too. Wiggling slightly to get it over my thighs, I smoothed the dress down. It was nothing super out of the ordinary from what I’ve worn to Rita’s in the past but I suddenly felt very shy looking at myself in the mirror. The dress hugged my curves in all the right places and had enough support in the bust that it made up for the lack of a bra. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves to walk out and show Mor. 
When I walked out she gave a dramatic whistle. “That’s the one for sure. No one will be able to look away.” She raised her eyebrows at the suggestive comment and I felt heat rise in my cheeks. Both of us knew I only cared about one specific male's attention. One that would hardly give me a second glance. 
She started on my makeup next, lining my eyes heavily with kohl. Blush wasn’t needed in this case, the sheer amount of alcohol we’d be consuming would do that for me. She swiped a red tinted gloss over my lips and turned me to face the mirror again. The black made the purple in my eyes pop, even I was unable to look away from my reflection. The gloss doing its job of making my lips look plump in a way that bordered on seduction. “You have outdone yourself” I complimented Mor and it was her turn for her cheeks to ting red. She shrugged off the compliment. 
“I trust you to do your own hair. I’m going to get ready. We’re leaving in less than an hour, so be quick.” She snatched the discarded dresses off their spot on my bed and strolled out of the room. 
I decided to leave my hair simple. The dress was enough of a statement on its own. My hair was still slightly curly from my bath earlier so I just left it down, twisting and pinning one side of it against my head. I pulled out some longer bits for the front and that was that. Giving myself a quick once over in the mirror, I started heading downstairs to meet the rest of my family. 
It was late enough that Feyre had already gone to her bedroom for the night. But I was surprised to see my brother dressed and waiting, impatiently, for Mor and I. I walked down the stairs and three pairs of eyes turned to me at the sound of my heels clicking against the floor. My eyes found Rhys first, slightly disapproval at my outfit but he’d get over it. I rolled my eyes at him and then caught Azriel’s gaze. 
I tried to ignore the way his eyes roved greedily over my figure. Blocked out the blush that rose all the way to my ears. His mouth was slightly open like he was going to say something but Cassian cut him off. 
“You clean up nice, princess.” Another roll of my eyes. 
“Who knew you knew how to put a shirt on Cas.” I teased back. I couldn’t find the courage to look over to Azriel again, scared of whatever look he was giving me. A look you certainly don’t give to friends or family. When I finally did glance over his way, I noticed his eyes were still on me, following my every shift with an intense look, like a hunter following prey. 
“Let’s go, we’re burning moonlight.” Mor said, breaking whatever tension was in the room. She all but ran down the steps until she was on even ground. She wrapped her arm around mine and pulled me to the door, the males following behind us. 
We laughed and pointed out things on our walk over to Rita’s. Mor and I walked a few steps ahead the entire time. The handful of times I risked a glance backwards, I noticed Azriel making a point to look anywhere but me. Which only brought more laughter from me. 
Rita’s wasn’t super packed tonight, but the music could be heard from outside of the bar. The five of us strolled in the doors and I could already feel the music in my chest. A sultry rhythm that had me longing to pull Mor to the dance floor. But we first headed to the bar, ordering the strongest drinks that they had to offer. I winced slightly as I took my first sip. 
No sooner than that sip did I do exactly that, pulling Mor by her hand into the crowd of bodies. I was slightly out of practice but I just let my body feel the music. Head tipped back with laughter as Mor and I danced together. 
We only lasted a few songs before both of us needed new drinks. This time we stayed at the booth the others had picked out. Her and I slid into the seats. She rushed for the seat next to Cassian and Rhys, leaving me to sit next to Azriel. Fine, perfectly fine. I told myself as I sat down next to him. The booth was tight enough with three pairs of wings that our thighs were touching. My mind instantly flashing back to earlier in the day, the way my thighs had been slung over both of his hips. I squirmed in my seat and tried my best to focus on the conversation being had. 
“No word from summer yet?” Cassian asked between sips of his own drink. Rhys sighed before shaking his head. He emptied his own glass and Cassian was already pushing another one towards him. 
“Which means we will go to the humans tomorrow.” He kept his voice low, although it was unnecessary over the music. Cassian sucked his teeth but kept quiet. Mor stiffened ever so slightly before speaking up. 
“I’ll stay in Velaris.” Her tone left nothing to be argued with. We all turned to our drinks, a comfortable silence falling over us. More drinks were consumed. My chest felt very warm and I knew a dopey smile was stuck on my face. At some point Azriel’s hand had slipped onto my knee as the conversation flowed. 
“By the mother, she’s infuriating.” Rhys lamented into his glass, his response when Cassian asked how that relationship was going. “She has all of this power that I can sense, but she refuses to try to learn how to use it.” Cassian let out a roaring laugh. 
“She’s gotta be stubborn if she’s ever going to deal with you. Someone here has to be able to tell you no.” 
“ I would argue, you all keep me in check perfectly.” He laughed back. All of us joined in. 
Mor went to get the next round of drinks and I downed mine, probably too quickly. The room started to spin just a little and I laid my head against Azriel’s shoulder. His arm instantly wrapped around me. Shadows wrapping around the two of us.
“You okay?” He said slowly to me. I looked up at him and gave him a small drunken nod. The motion made a laugh rumble through him. “I think you’ve had enough. I’m cutting you off, princess.” I pouted at him, my bottom lip sticking out. I could only blink up at him as he raised his free hand to untuck my lip, a scared finger lingering on my face. I suddenly couldn’t hear anything else in the room. All of my focus zeroing in on that hand on my face. I swore he was leaning in more than a second ago, his face a lot closer to mine than it had been. Rhys cleared his throat loud enough to make me jump. Azriel’s shadows retreated back to his side. My cheeks heated up as I pulled my eyes away from Azriel’s face. I had completely forgotten the others, who were now giving Azriel and I confused looks. All except Mor who had a self satisfied grin on her face. 
We didn’t last much longer than that. All deciding that it was time to call it a night. We would need to be up in only a few hours to go to the human realm. 
During the walk home, Azriel wouldn’t so much as look at me. Letting Mor and I once again led the way, albeit on slightly more wobbly legs. By the time we got to the house, my shoes were in my hand, feet screaming at the height of the heels. We all quickly said goodnight and headed towards our rooms. Walking up the stairs, my foot caught the edge of one of them and I would have fallen face first into the marble if not for a warm hand that wrapped around my arm. Azriel was standing beside me, my arm held lightly. I could only gawk at him as he pulled me upright. 
“Maybe I should walk to your room so you don’t hurt yourself, or the house.” He spoke softly, a hint of a smile at the edge of his lips. I nodded, my tongue unable to find words. 
So he did exactly that. We reached my door and I turned to him to say good night but he was much closer than I anticipated. Our eyes locked and we both stood frozen, unable to look away from each other. Before I could think of something else to say, he reached out a gentle hand and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered on my face. I felt my breath catch in my throat, mouth parting to say something, anything. 
“Good night.” He spoke before I could. His hand dropped to his side and I tried not to pout as I echoed the words back to him. I stood outside my door and watched as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall to his own room.
I got dressed for bed in a daze. Nearly forgetting to wipe off the makeup on my face. I crawled into bed and let thoughts of the shadowslinger lull me to sleep. 
I felt funny wearing the clothes that Feyre had picked out for me. Everything felt itchy and heavy against my skin. Gone were the typical cobwebs from the night court attire. Instead, Feyre helped lace me into a corset that she informed me I’m supposed to wear underneath my clothing. We compromised on a long sleeve shirt that had sheer sleeves but went up to my neck. It all felt very stuffy and Feyre laughed when I pointed that out to her.
“It’s supposed to be. Humans are a lot more…modest than high fae.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. That was an understatement for sure. She helped me pin the simple linen skirt and tied up my hair in an intricate braid that rested on the top of my head. “There, you could pass perfectly for human, if it wasn’t for the ears.” She teased and I stuck my tongue out at her. Pulling my hair down in front of my ears. Thankfully, she turned her attention to Mor who was studying the clothes intensely. 
“No fighting in these clothes.” She muttered, low enough that I wonder if she even meant to say it out loud. 
“Women are expected to get married, have children and then plan the same for those children. Some might work, if they’re poorer.” Feyre explained. Mor nodded along to her words. 
“Fae are the same in some places. Feyre slipped behind the screen in her room to start changing her own clothes. 
“In the Court of Nightmares, females are…prized.” Mor’s voice had gone ice cold. My eyes drifted to her, remembering her own family. “We’re only valued for our ability to produce offspring. And being the most powerful in my family, everyone could see it, the day I first bleed it was over for me. I was hoping I could escape the same fate as the rest of my cousins, shackled into a loveless, and sometimes cruel, marriage. But when my power unleashed itself full force, I was suddenly the most sought after female in the court” She shuddered slightly. I tried to keep my face as those old memories resurfaced. 
“What about your parents?” Feyre asked from behind the screen. Voice shaking slightly. 
Mor gave out a cold, flat laugh. “They were beside themself. They could have a pick at any of the top ruling families. My pleas fell on deaf ears.” She took a steady breath. “The rest of the story is long and awful and this isn’t the time for it. But I say all of this to let you know I’m not coming with you.” I of course already knew this but I never gave much thought to the reasoning behind it. How the way humans treated females would open old wounds for Mor. Ways that she did everything in her power to avoid. 
I tried to busy myself with fixing the layers of my clothes as they talked, letting them have a little bit of privacy. 
“There are good days and hard days for me-even now. Don’t let the hard days win.” Mor said, giving Feyre a slight squeeze on the shoulder before she walked out of the room. 
With Mor and Amren staying behind to watch Velaris, that left the five of us, Cassian, Azriel, Rhys, Feyre and myself. I had already walked up to Azriel’s side before Feyre blurted out. “I’ll fly with Azriel.” I couldn’t keep my face neutral, even as Azriel simply bowed his head. I tried to stomp down the jealousy at the way his shadows wrapped around her when Azriel scooped up Feyre into his arms. Tried not to think of the way those very arms had been wrapped around me last night. Cassian was at my side giving me a wink he said, “Guess you’re stuck with me. Try not to look so disappointed.” 
“Elain.” Feyre’s voice broke around the name. The housekeeper had been giving her a hard time when the girl had appeared. The rest of us merely waited outside as Feyre walked through the doors of the manor. 
I held my breath as Feyre greeted us at the doors. She led us into a large room in the house and I couldn’t help but look around. In awe of the manor before me. The resemblance between the three sisters was uncanny. The slope of a nose, the curve of full lips. Wide eyes that followed every move the Illryians made. The tallest took a small step in front of the other timid girl when she spied the two winged males. I fought the urge to scoff and stepped closer. Feyre simply introduced all of us to each other. The other’s didn’t dare move. 
“Thank you for your hospitality.” Rhys said with a bow. The perfect example of a diplomatic high lord. Nesta’s welcome was less than ice cold. We followed her into the dining room and all took our seats. 
The males, per usual, began scarfing down the food. Where they put it all, I would never know. Feyre ate with a look that would lead you to believe she was eating glass. 
“Is there something wrong without food?” Nesta asked coldly. I fought the urge to shiver at her tone, the sheer discontent in those few words. “So you don’t eat normal food anymore- or are you too good for it?” Rhys and I put our forks down in sync. The way her voice dripped with challenge. How Nesta was related to Feyre, well if it wasn’t for their face, I would never have guessed it. 
“I can eat, drink, fuck and fight just a well as before. Better, even.” At her words, the room seemed to heat up ever so slightly. Feyre herself being the source. I felt my eyes go wide at the thought of what could happen. Tempers flaring from both sides of the room. 
“Can you really fly?” Elain asked Azriel. Trying to break the tension.
“Yes. We’re called Illyrians, a race of winged warriors.” 
“Is it not frightening to be up so high?” She all but batted her eyelashes at him. I might have put a little bit more behind my fork as I picked at the food in front of me. He kept an even tone as he answered all of her questions. I could quickly tell Nesta was losing her patience, however small it was to begin with. 
“If we’re all done eating then this meal is over.” She said as she walked out of the room. Leaving the rest of us reeling. 
“Three rooms was rather generous of her.” I joked with Feyre as we walked around the house.  
“If you want to go back, try to ask Nesta…”
“We’ll make it work.” I cut her off, I would never admit it outloud but there was something unnerving about Nesta. An intensity that set my teeth on edge. Plus, the clear disdain she holds for her sister ticked a certain nerve in me. How someone could be so callous towards a sibling that had sacrificed so much for them, I couldn’t imagine. 
“She tends to have that effect on people.” Feyre said with a private laugh. I really did try to keep my tone neutral 
“She seems very…” I didn’t have a kind word to say. My anger at the female clouded over anything else I could say about her.  Feyre just nodded at me. 
We both went to our separate rooms for the night. And I had just fallen asleep when a knock at the door woke me up. I was surprised to see Azriel at my door, expecting Rhys or maybe Feyre. “Cassian snores. Really loudly.” Azriel said in a softer tone that I knew he could use. I covered my mouth to hide the laugh that escaped me. He smiled my favorite lopsided smile at me and I opened the door to let him in. 
This wasn’t out of the ordinary. Azriel and I had shared a bed many times, and had fallen asleep on each other even more times. I still remember me begging him to stay when my screaming had woken him up. But for some reason, the heat of his body behind me felt very different this time. We weren’t touching, not even his wings brushed up against me. His shadows curled around the edge of the bed like a sleeping dog. He might have well been right on top of me for how much I could sense his presence. I turned over onto my side, pulling my side of the blanket tighter around myself and tried to even my breathing with his. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to escape his smell as it wrapped around me. It only added to the overwhelming feeling of him. I squeezed my eyes tighter, pleading with myself to ignore him. To act like nothing had changed in my feelings for him. That my simple crush was crumbling out of my control into something more. Something I did not want to think about with him merely feet away from me. 
I woke up warm. So warm that I burrowed myself back into the source of the warmth. Eyes shut, I basked in the feeling with a small content noise leaving my throat. The slight shift under me had my eyes flying open. Remembering exactly what had happened last night. Squinting the morning light out of my eyes, I took note of the arm wrapped around my waist. The way I was pulled tight against Azriel’s chest. My whole body flushed suddenly his body heat threatened to smother me. I tried to subtly slip out of his hold, but the motion only made his arm tighten around me more. I was pressed tight enough around him that I could feel every plane of his chest, every bit of muscle pressed up against me. I closed my eyes and said a prayer to whatever god would get me out of this situation. I struggled a little bit more, I felt my backside make contact with his hips. My actions caused a groan to echo in his chest, the noise making me freeze completely, scared to even breathe wrong. 
I waited for a few moments before I continued my actions, being extremely careful of where exactly I was putting my weight. I let out a heavy breath when I managed to wiggle out of his hold. Azriel only rolled over and grabbed the pillow I had been half resting on. A smile snuck onto my face at the action. His shadows, up until then ignored, circled around my arm and that only seemed to make him stir more. He groaned again, moving over onto his back.
 My eyes landed on his face and I nearly jumped out of the bed when I heard him rasp, “You’re staring princess.” I was thankful that his eyes were still closed as I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Moving ever so slowly, I reached for one of the discarded pillows by the foot of the bed. His hand had already come up to stop it before I could toss it at his head. 
“Now that wasn’t very nice.” His morning voice finally hit me, Azriel’s voice had always been on the lower side but laced with sleep, it bordered on sinful. The slight huskiness to it had me scrambling out of the bed, all but running to the bathroom. His light laughter hit my ears as the door closed. My head landed against the wooden door, running my hands over my face. I decided a cold bath would be in my best interest. 
My mind kept wandering to the male outside the door as I peeled off my night clothes, thankfully Feyre had convinced me to bring longer, sturdier nightwear than I normally would have worn or else I think I would have lost my everloving mind last night. That groan running through my mind again had me all but diving into the bathtub. 
I sat in the bath like a coward until I heard the door open and shut. I waited a few more moments before I finally pulled myself. I wrapped a towel around myself and walked timidly out of the bathing room, peaking out first to make sure it was all clear. Luckily, it was empty. A stupid twinge of disappointment runs through me and I push it aside. There were bigger issues for today. 
I was thoroughly impressed with the progress Feyre had made. She had been able to light, drown and relight the candle a handful of times. My job was really only to stand as a buffer between her and Rhys. Be able to control the situation if she lost too much control of her powers. 
“Maybe you should go.” 
“Why?
“I can’t concentrate when you’re breathing down my neck.” She snapped at him. Before this could get any more flirty, I tugged on my brother's arm. Leaving the candle with her. 
“Why do you insist on godding her like that?” I asked when we had gotten some distance. 
“Because it’s fun.” I shot him a glare, “Alright, because it gets her out of her own head. It works. Plus I won’t deny it’s fun.” 
“There he is.” I mutter. An hour or so had passed and I saw Rhys gathering a small bundle of food and a piece of paper to send along to Feyre. He hastily scribbled something on it but I didn’t care to read it. Barely a moment passed before the paper returned. Back and forth it went until it remained with her.A second passed, then another. My stomach sank. Rhys was already grabbing my arm to winnow us back to that clearing. 
Nothing could prepare me for the sight in front of us. Feyre held by the neck by an Attor. Neither of us hesitated. It was as simple as breathing, blinding the Attor. It howled in rage as Rhys’ power exploded out of him. Feyre kicked her way out of its arms and I was instantly at her side. Crouching to pick her off the snow covered ground. The Atorr was bound in tendrils of inky-darkness. 
“I was wondering when we would see your ugly face again. Answer my question and you can go back to your master.” Rhys all but purred. 
“Whore.” Was all the answer he received. I reached out to my powers again, the Atorrs scream echoed through the clearing as he lost both his sight and hearing. Rhys nodded his head and I let it fade back into me. Breathing heavily, I knew I didn’t have another time in me. 
“I was sent to get her.” the Attor paused. “I don’t know why.” Words did not stop spilling from the Attors mouth. A small satisfied smirk graced my face as I felt Azriel and Cassian land beside me. 
“Next time you go after her, I’ll kill first and ask questions later.” Rhys said before Azriel and the Attor vanished. I shuddered at the knowledge of what was to come. How when I found Azriel later, he would be cleaning truth-teller until the blade gleamed again. 
Cassian grabbed my hand and scooped me up in his arms. The distant shouting of Rhys and Feyre was enough to make him laugh. “Let’s leave them to kill each other in peace.”
“Who do you think would win?” 
“My money’s on Feyre.” I laughed as he took off, flying us back to Velaris.
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Taglist:@nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams
I think that was everyone that asked to be tagged, as always let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
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sherlock-is-ace · 17 days
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#not having a great time today after my mom commented on my interests#i'm a person that is interested in shit i don't know this is why i'm very likely to follow disabled youtubers#in my time i have watched molly burke. multiplicityandme and a collection of autistic youtubers (guess why lol)#and my mom made a quite patronizing comment about how i ''take on causes'' by learning about stuff#and/or supporting fun and interesting youtube channels#but anyways it sucks even more because on her comment she made it clear (once again) that she doesn't believe me when i say#i might be autistic. and it fucking sucks!#because when i first talked to her about it even I didn't know much about it. i was just starting to do my research#and i was trying to make sense of things still but she dismissed it#but now that i do know more and things do make more sense#i can't even bring it up because the fact that i have been watching a lot of youtubers talk about autism will make her think#i'm just trying to be like them... which is stupid#but it's also the reason i didn't tell her that my best friend in my teens was trans. because i was trying to figure shit out myself#and telling her he was trans and then a bit later that i am as well was going to make her go ''everyone's trans now blah blah''#and dismiss that as well... but now i'm trapped in the same thing about autism lol#and her stupid loophole of a dismissal isn't just by saying ''no you're not autistic'' it's saying this like ''well MAAAAYBE you COULD be#but that doesn't mean anything and it doesn't matter and why would you want a diagnosis if it's not gonna change anything''#same thing as her whole ''sure you're a man but why do you have to look and act differently? YOU know who YOU are#who cares what others think?'' in a don't transition way#like that's so stupid!#dkfjhkdfhkdfg#i'm angry and i feel trapped#i have figured out a little bit ago that i don't stim near as enough as i need to BECAUSE i live in the same house as her#and the idea of ear defenders and other stuff like that is very appealing but i can't do that while she's around to judge#and IN PUBLIC?! that's unthinkable!!#i still remember the time she threatened with not going out with me (to the supermarket) because I commited the huge crime of#buttoning the top button of my button up shirt....#that's it. that was the whole reason.. she thought i looked ridiculous and she didn't want to be seen with me...#imagine if i wear ear defenders out...#not gonna risk it lol
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the-cimmerians · 4 months
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It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.
In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"
"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."
It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"
In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."
Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.
***
In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.
***
The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.
***
By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"
I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"
She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."
"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.
When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.
***
By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.
***
Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.
1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.
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jaylver · 1 month
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WEBS OF HURT — S.JY
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synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.
pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader
genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff
warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury
wc: 10k
a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.
High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with. 
Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.
You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.
However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.
"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.
"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly. 
"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone. 
"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down. 
"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky. 
"Who is it?"
"Gwen,"
"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.
He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"
"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.
"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"
You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.
"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.
"I'll go,"
"Really?"
"Do you want me to say no instead …?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.
"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile. 
"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"
Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"
"I'm holding you to it."
Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?
Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.
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"You know, you look good either way,"
Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"
"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.
"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."
At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.
"Does my shirt look lame—"
"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"
"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.
"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you. 
Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.
"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question. 
Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.
"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.
"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"
How ironic.
You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.
"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura. 
Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"
"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone. 
"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her. 
You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.
Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.
Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.
You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her. 
"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.
"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her. 
"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.
"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.
"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.
"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"
You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"
"Oh, I see," 
"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"
"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.
You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on. 
Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.
You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then. 
"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening. 
"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer. 
"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"
"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?
"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?
Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?" 
Silence. 
"Hello? Can I leave now?" 
"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself. 
Spiderman? 
Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.
"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.
"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.
"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice. 
"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text," 
He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"
"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated," 
"What? What do you mean complicated?"
You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"
"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"
"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point. 
"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"
"What?"
Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years. 
You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him. 
He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place. 
"How did you—"
"Bye! Goodnight!"
You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?
10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake. 
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'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'
The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.
You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.
"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.
"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating. 
"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"
"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"
It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"
You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"
It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"
"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass," 
"Spiderman?"
"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright," 
"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake. 
He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"
You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"
"You accepted it, you took the bag," 
You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.
"So, we're cool?"
You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"
Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"
That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"
"That one,"
"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"
"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.
"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.
"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.
"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.
"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you. 
"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?" 
Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"
"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.
"Then fall in love with me."
You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you. 
For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.
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Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?
First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen. 
You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally. 
It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more. 
You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.
"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.
"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"
"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.
"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further. 
"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero. 
He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"
"The one that stood me up at the party?"
He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"
You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say. 
The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand," 
You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"
"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.
"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit. 
Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected. 
"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"
"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."
You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have. 
The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart. 
By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.
Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake. 
At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind. 
Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.
"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.
"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"
Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"
It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"
He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"
"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"
"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"
"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes. 
"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"
"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"
"It's nothing,"
"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"
Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"
There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough. 
"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"
"No bailing on me this time?"
"Promise,"
"You do?"
He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated. 
"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"
"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"
"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"
Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier. 
"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling. 
He hummed back in response. 
"Nothing has changed between us, right?"
A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change," 
It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought. 
"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."
"Goodnight."
Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?
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The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day. 
Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then. 
You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.
You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.
Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations. 
Spiderman suit?
Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away. 
Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.
It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.
You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen. 
Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times. 
You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back. 
How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.
"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed. 
"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"
"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"
"You did," 
"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around. 
Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"
How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.
You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.
You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them. 
How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you. 
"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.
"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try. 
"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.
"Sounds good," 
You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief. 
The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.
'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'
You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.
The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide. 
"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.
"What?" 
"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened. 
"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?
"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.
"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"
He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard. 
You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends. 
Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.
You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess. 
"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there. 
"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"
"You saw him? Spiderman?"
"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels," 
"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.
Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.
"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!" 
A girl?
You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy. 
An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home. 
He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.
Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.
You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.
Well, there goes your future. 
You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again. 
He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.
Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"
His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.
"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"
"How?" 
"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway. 
"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"
"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"
"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock. 
Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession.  All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.
"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"
Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.
You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his. 
Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.
Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad. 
"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush?  "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,
"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"
The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon. 
Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"
"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent. 
"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"
Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks. 
"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.
"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom. 
"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor. 
"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"
"But you like my pretty face,"
"You want to test it out?"
"Okay, okay. I'm coming."
The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger. 
So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.
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Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun. 
You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add. 
With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.
"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still. 
You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.
"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs. 
"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"
"Are you serious?"
"I am dead serious," 
You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.
"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da," 
"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.
"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"
You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"
"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another. 
"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"
"What about me?"
"I like you too,"
 "But I like you more," 
You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"
"But—"
"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"
"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"
"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.
Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city. 
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2K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 30 days
Note
hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈
i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)
You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.
Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.
You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.
“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”
Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 
A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”
“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”
Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 
Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.
You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.
Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.
You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”
The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”
He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 
He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.
“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”
“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.
“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”
“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”
You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.
“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”
Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.
He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.
It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.
“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.
You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”
“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 
“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”
You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 
“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.
“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.
“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.
It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 
But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.
“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 
Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”
The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.
“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.
Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.
His excitement makes you regret your answer. 
“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”
“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”
The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.
You nod once. “Sure.”
He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.
You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.
You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”
His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.
You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”
You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.
He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”
“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”
“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”
Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.
“Eddie,” he finishes for you.
“…Eddie.”
“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”
You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”
Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 
“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”
Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.
“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”
1K notes · View notes
caelivir · 4 months
Text
hidden lights | rayne ames
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— synopsis. reading rayne ames is impossible. that's why you don't get why he offers to take you out on a date after you've been stood up again.
— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader
— genres. modern au, you and rayne are roommates, fluff, you’re so oblivious it hurts, rayne's most likely ooc towards the end but we do it for plot,
— warnings. one kys thrown in at the end but it’s not in a serious manner
— word count. 3.2k
— notes. in honor of triple liner rayne being animated. i have quite literally been waiting to see it animated for years. also hi.
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you can never tell what rayne ames is thinking. he wears the same cold, uninterested glare on his face at all times of the day. he never speaks unless spoken to, never lets you know when he leaves the apartment, never does anything to show that he actually has emotions.
you're asked on the daily how you survive rooming with him, and in all honesty, it's really not that bad. he does his half of the chores, and he doesn't leave his shit all over the apartment. really, the guy's only problem is his lack of emotion. it drives you up the wall.
finn says not to take it to personally during the one day he visited his brother. apparently, he's like that with everyone, but he's still a good guy. it just takes time.
you would like to believe that, but rayne makes that extremely difficult to believe when he looks like he wants to kill every person who so happens to exist in his direction.
so naturally, seeing him so angered after finding out that you've been stood up is surprising. it's an even bigger shock when he offers to take you out on a date instead.
you don't know what compels you to agree. even if you hadn't accepted his offer, something tells you that rayne would've found a way to get you to leave with him so there's no use in trying to deny him in this matter.
that's why you allow him to drive all the way to marchétte street, where a night market is being held in full swing. the road has all sorts of stalls lined up one after the other, ranging from foods to clothes. but because the marchétte night market is ridiculously popular, the place is packed to the brim with people.
rayne offers his hand once he notices that you're daunted by the crowds. you stare at him with surprise. when you don't make a move to accept this action, rayne huffs before grabbing your hand. he interlocks his fingers with yours and drags you into marchétte street's traffic.
the first thing you note is that rayne's hands are surprisingly warm and soft. for someone so incapable of talking, his touch is strangely reassuring.
he drags you to a vendor selling takoyaki. and even as he orders, rayne doesn’t let go of your hand.
“what do you want?” he says into your ear so that he doesn’t have to yell over all the noise. the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin sends shivers down your spin. it's maddening.
“oh. uh-” your eyes quickly scan over the menu, and you blurt out the first item that you read. out of habit you reach for your wallet, but rayne is quick to shut you down.
“absolutely not.” he grumbles, letting your hand drop to your side so he can pull out his cash. rayne hands the amount to the girl at the register, and she hands back his change that he drops into the tip jar.
“thanks.” you say quietly, still so flustered about the entire situation.
rayne only studies you before humming in acknowledgement. “come on.” he guides his hand to your upper back, moving you out the way so you can wait on the side for your orders.
it’s during this time you really look at rayne as if that would provide you with the answers you need to understand him. you try to wrap your head around it. you draft up every possible explanation, but none of them seem to make sense.
unless… it couldn’t be… does rayne like you? you shake your head, dismissing the thought as soon as it crosses your mind. no, that’s absurd, the furthest thing from logical. this is rayne ames we’re talking about. in the five months that you’ve been living together, you two have never had a solid conversation. how could he ever like someone he’s barely talked to?
you're about to confront rayne about his intentions until your number order is called, and all the courage you built up crumbles away as rayne leaves you to go pick up your takoyaki.
still, whatever his reasons for doing this may be, this is a rare opportunity to come by, and that means that maybe rayne doesn't have to continue being a stranger. maybe you can get under those layers and find that good guy finn said was there.
"i never knew marchétte had a night market." you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk side by side through the market.
"i didn't either." rayne admits, poking his fork into one of the octopus balls, and shoving the whole thing into his mouth.
"what?" your face scrunches in disbelief. "then how'd you find out?"
"i asked finn as we were going down to the garage." your date shares nonchalantly.
you turn to look at rayne with the intent of questioning him further, but the sight of his cheeks bulging with food makes you burst out in a fit of giggles.
"what?" rayne asks, narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip to contain your laughter. your gaze falls on a mixture of crumbs and sauce that sits on the corner of his mouth, only causing you to smile wider.
"you got a little something there." you gesture at his lips. rayne fumbles for a moment, swiping his fingers around various sections of his mouth, somehow only cleaning half of the mess up.
you shake your head, still grinning up at him. he tenses when your thumb grazes the edges of his lips. you can feel his eyes staring deep into you, and you have to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.
"all done." you whisper, wiping the remainders on the napkin in your hand.
rayne doesn't say anything regarding what occurred, only urging you to follow him further down marchétte street.
you swear that you see the tips of his ears go red, and something about that makes you all fuzzy inside.
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as the night progresses, you and rayne abide your time by visiting stalls. well, it's more like you choose which ones interest you the most, and rayne follows behind. you comment on certain items that look nice; sometimes, you ask for your roommate's opinions to decide on whether something will be worth your money or not. to your surprise, rayne's advice is solid, and you end up listening to him.
at some point, you convinced him to buy a pair of absurdly looking mugs for the apartment. he fought you hard on it, saying that a mug shaped like a fish is extremely inconvenient, but in the end, you won with insistent begging.
when the two of you both got bored of the market, you decide to take rayne to one of your favorite spots in the city.
"the park? really?" rayne gives you a dead stare.
"hey, don't judge." you pout. "i love this place."
"why? no offense, but i don't think parks are all that special."
"i feel like i can take a step back here and just a catch a break from everything," you answer honestly. "sometimes, i sit down and watch people as they live their lives, and something about that is strangely comforting. it makes me want to keep going."
rayne doesn't follow up on your words, but you can tell that he's really considering them, and that brings a smile onto your face.
"plus, i feel like it's a good place for when you want to talk to someone." you grab onto your roommate's wrist. "come on let's go to the swings."
you practically drag rayne to the playground, which is completely deserted, but that's to be expected when it's already 10p.m. no parent would be dumb enough to bring their kid out this late.
you force rayne onto the the swing next to you, and all he does is sit there, unwilling to indulge himself in such a simple joy. annoyed with him, you hop off your own set, coming behind him.
"what are you doing?" rayne whips his head around as your hands plant themselves firmly on his back.
"oh live a little." you huff, mustering up enough strength to push him. the swing rocks forwards and comes back. even as rayne complains and threatens you, you continue to push him, watching as he goes higher and higher. he may be masking it, but you can tell that he's enjoying it.
you finally give up when your arms grow sore and a layer of sweat coats your face. slumping back into the swing beside rayne, you breathe heavily. "man, that was a workout."
"i told you to stop." your date reminds you, shooting you a look.
"you can be honest, rayne. i know you liked it."
"i did not."
"yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." you wave him off, laughing.
for a minute, neither of you say anything. you're the one who said that the park is a place where you can talk openly with someone, yet there's not a single topic that you can think to bring up.
luckily, rayne swoops in to save it. "can i ask you something?" your half-blonde roommate asks, something more serious laced in his voice. it makes you swallow a lump in your throat. an anxious feeling creeps into your body.
"of course you can."
"why did you bother giving that guy a chance?"
it's easy to know exactly who he's referring to. you shrug. "he's nice and has good energy."
"but he had stood you up two times in the past though. clearly he isn't as nice as you make him out to be. you seriously can't be that dumb to have fallen for it three times."
that statement in itself should get you mad (even though he would be right), but there's something peculiar in what he said that had you ignoring the jab altogether. "how'd you know he stood me up twice before? i never told you that."
at that, rayne freezes, eyes blowing wide open. it's so obvious that he's trying to find an excuse right now, but you push further.
"who told you that, rayne?" you lean closer, watching as his ears turn beet red. you're not even angry with him. it's mostly curiosity making you push him. not to mention that seeing him in a flustered state is entertaining and quite cute.
"max did." your roommate finally admits albeit quietly.
you pull your head back. "max? as in max land? how the hell does he know?"
"your dates happened to be at the restaurant he works at."
"why would he bother telling you that though?" you wonder. "up until tonight, i don't think it concerned you."
"it did though." the half-blonde mumbles, thinking you wouldn't hear, but you do anyway.
"what?" you press.
"forget it." rayne shakes his head, growing irritated.
"no. fuck that.." you seethe, annoyed at his unwillingness to be honest with you. rayne bites his tongue to hold back. you see it. "don't act like this. just tell me, or i swear to god i'll text max right now-"
"it's because i knew that i could treat you better." the words rush out of rayne's mouth as he snaps his head toward you. the fire in his eyes die as he locks his gaze onto you. the harsh emotion written across his features softens. you can feel your own exasperation slipping away like that of a retreating ocean tide. he grimaces in regret, knowing that he didn't mean to let that slip out, but he did anyway. it's out in the open, and now you knew.
surely, you're hearing things wrong. perhaps you're misunderstanding what he just said. how could that be misinterpreted though? it's such a painfully straightforward statement, yet it still doesn't make any sense.
rayne sighs. it's like he can already hear your thoughts and your confusion. the least he can do is clear the air and dump everything onto you while he can. "i didn't expect to feel like this," he begins to explain. "when i moved in, i just assumed you'd be another person i wouldn't pay attention to. i'm sure you know how i am. i don't bother getting to know people, but a lot of people feel the need to force themselves into my life, and shit like that pisses me off. but you didn't do that. you introduced yourself, explained the ground rules of the apartment, and then left me alone."
"so... you like the fact that i leave you alone?" you tilt your head.
"shut up. let me finish."
"okay."
"but yeah, that's part of it. you keep your distance, but you still try to show that you care. you don't do anything groundbreaking. it's just that the small things you do for me got to me. it may sound dumb to you, but it meant a lot to me."
suddenly, you're hit like a train because you know exactly what rayne means. you recall all the times you ensured that there was dinner for him, the times you moved his laundry into the dryer when he forgot to do it himself, and the times you restocked his favorite snacks when they ran out. you hadn't realized that you did any of that. it just came naturally, no hidden meaning behind it.
"oh." you breathe out, blinking.
rayne nods, continuing. you're honestly floored over the fact that he still has more to say. "you don't notice it. at least, i don't think you do, but at some point, i tried doing the same for you. i started paying more attention to you and what you liked and how you liked things done. i did it mostly to pay back your kindness, but over time i continued just 'cause i liked seeing your smile."
you have to process that for a minute, piecing together how certain events lined up until it finally clicks into place. "s-so the island vase-"
"i replace the flowers because you like them fresh."
"the key holder?"
"you always forgot to bring your keys until i installed it."
"when you put on movies-"
"i check your letterboxd and hope that you'll sit and watch them with me."
"when i put on movies-"
"i sit with you because i want to be near you."
your jaw falls open. never in a million years could you have expected this. you thought that rayne could care less about your existence, but the reality was that that was far from the truth. cold, aloof rayne was always doing things for you. all this time, you've been so oblivious.
still, there's more to the story so you stay quiet, letting him get his feelings off of his chest. "to be honest, i was never going to say anything. max tried convincing me to confess on multiple occasions, but i was dead set on letting it pass. i didn't think you liked me in the same way anyway.
"but then you came home today and you told me about your date and i just got so... angry," rayne clenches his fist around the chains of the swing. the whole situation infuriates him every time he thinks about it. "it just wasn't fair. you spent so much time into looking your best just for that asshole to go and waste your effort. you're so beautiful, so kind and understanding, and i fucking hate the fact that he's been taking advantage of that.
"i really wasn't thinking clear when i proposed this date to you, but god after tonight, i'd do it all over again. i wanted you to know what it's like to be with someone who does care about you. i wanted to see you smile. i wanted to hear stories. i want you so badly it's all i can think about sometimes.
"i know this is a lot, and i'm freaking you out right now. i'm sorry but you-"
"rayne." you interrupt with a big smile on your face. he was unaware to the fact that you had got up.
"for fucks sake, can you let me finish? this is already weird enough for me to talk about as is." he rolls his eyes, narrowing his gaze at you, blush splashed across his cheeks. still, without any resistance, you pull him up from his swing by his wrists.
"then don't." you whisper as you pull him in.
and the moment you crash your lips onto rayne's, the world stops. he instantly melts into you, the palms of his hands finding the soft skin on your cheeks. your hands tangle themselves into his hair. his lips are incredibly soft. a faint taste of matcha and sugar syrup dances on his tongue from the boba he drank earlier. a noise of approval vibrates down his throat, and you can't help but smile against his lips.
rayne wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. you get what he was talking about earlier. this kiss is all it takes to prove it to you. you feel his affection and desire all at once. every single bone in your body is so aware of how much rayne ames cares about you.
when you finally pull away for air, it's like a smile is permanently tugged onto your lips. rayne trains his eyes onto you, engraining every detail of this moment into his head.
a comfortable silence falls as each of you take your time to catch your breaths. your stare finds its way up, admiring the night sky. there are barely any stars out tonight. no, that part isn't remotely true, not fully anyway, because light pollution drowns out stars and their lights. the reality is that there are billions of stars hanging high out of reach; they just go unseen.
rayne is kinda like that you realize. finn was right. his brother is a good guy. there's a hidden light within him behind all those aloof layers of his. you just have to squint and maybe put on some prescription glasses is order to see it. it's a shame it took you five months to to really acknowledge it. but now that you've finally found a glimpse of it, you'll continue to clear past the fog. you want to know every part of rayne and see his light just as he did with you. you want him to be able to shine at his full brightness with no fear. you'll take rayne ames for all that he is.
"come on," you coo, a lovestruck look in your eyes as you slip your hand into rayne's. "let's go home."
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bonus:
rayne: finn, give me a date spot quick finn: are you actually going on a date? rayne: stop asking questions finn: there's a night market on marchétte street. finn: are you seriously going on a date though? finn: hello? finn: rayne. finn: stop leaving me on read. finn: is it (y/n)? finn: it is her, huh? finn: asshole.
delisaster: hey sorry delisaster: can we reschedule for next saturday? y/n: kys y/n: lol sorry that was my bf delisaster: bruh what? delisaster: did you have a bf this whole time? *this message could not be sent* delisaster: did you fucking block me? *this message could not be sent*
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2K notes · View notes
anadiasmount · 2 months
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we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…
wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍
“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.
that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.
"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.
"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.
"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?
you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.
you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.
the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.
your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.
you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.
after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.
you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.
he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.
"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.
"how was training?"
jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."
you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.
"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"
"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.
"jude."
"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."
jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"
"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.
in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."
jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.
jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"
"well i beg to differ-"
"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"
jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"
"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.
"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.
"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.
"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?
the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.
as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.
as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.
"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.
"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.
"thank you."
"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.
you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.
you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?
you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.
when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.
jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.
he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.
when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.
"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."
jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.
"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.
"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"
"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."
"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.
"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."
after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.
"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."
after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.
"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.
"jude right?"
"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."
hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."
"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.
when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.
the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.
"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.
jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.
jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.
like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.
it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?
all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.
“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”
“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.
“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”
jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.
"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."
"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."
"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.
"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.
jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.
jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.
"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."
"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"
your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"
"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."
"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.
"what's your promise jude?"
"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."
"jude-"
"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.
you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.
"you love me jude?"
"more than what you think."
"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.
"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."
jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.
"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."
787 notes · View notes
reidsdaisies · 2 months
Note
congrats on 500!! Can you write forget me not 19 with spencer x fem!reader where she’s in an abusive relationship (only if you’re comfy with it obviously!) and calls him for help? Tysm!
༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ prompt(s); forget-me-not, 19 – "Could you please come and get me?"
༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; crying (reader), mentions of abuser (readers partner, not spencer) yelling, having been drunk, and being the reason reader is sad, spencer comforting reader, spencer driving her to his place
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.9k
༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; hi! ty for requesting lovey<3 in my guidelines it says I won’t write abusive relationships, but as long as none of the characters are the abusers and it’s on the side, I think I can make an exception.
celebrate with me!
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cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox
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Spencer hushes you, gently stroking your back. "Don't even think of him, okay?"
You just keep crying, your face buried in the sleeve of your sweatshirt, your sobs muffled. Spencer was acting like a saint, yet you couldn’t help but feel bad, as if you’d done something wrong. In actuality, you did nothing wrong; it was your partner that did, but he’s messed with your head so much to the point where you now struggle with differentiating right from wrong. The actual wrong thing to have done would have been to never contacted Spencer and to remain in the apartment with the man who had just verbally abused you.
“J-just focus on the road,” you say sniffling, dismissing him. Peeking over your arm, your gaze is drawn to the stars, watching as they twinkle in the night sky.
Spencer remains silent after that, not wanting to upset you even further, only wanting to get you back to his apartment—a safe place. You utilize this silent moment to reflect on the day’s events, whether you’d like to or not. Your thoughts wander to earlier that night, temporarily sending you back in time.
You relive recently made memories of your boyfriend, the mess he made of the flat, and the tears you wept as a result of his harmful impact on you. You try to fast forward and ignore what happened an hour ago, focusing instead on the event that brought you to your current location, sitting in the passenger seat of Spencer's car.
As soon as your boyfriend was done throwing his alcohol-fueled fit and you heard him slam the bedroom door shut, you simply left. You couldn’t take it longer, and you needed to leave before you could change your mind and tidy up his mess, or worse, crawl into bed with him and stay.
Your cellphone was still in the bedroom, and you didn’t want to risk enraging him further just to get it, so you decided you’d walk to the nearest pay phone and pray Spencer would answer your call.
You fished around in the pocket of your hoodie for a minute, pulling out some loose change you’d forgotten was in there but were so very thankful for. Inserting your coins, you dialed up the number of the only person in the world you knew you could entrust with the details your private life.
The phone rang a couple times, and after the third ring, you were met with Spencer’s groggy voice on the other line.
“This is Dr. Reid; may I ask who’s calling?” He grumbled, exhaustion evident in his voice. You heard a low grunt and the bed creak beneath him as he tried to sit up.
“It’s me, y/n,” you mumbled, your voice strained and disconsolate. He could hear your voice shake through the phone, which alarmed him, but he didn’t want to say anything until you finished speaking.
Your voice trembled as you weakly called his name, making sure he was still on the phone. “Spence..?”
“I’m here.” He finally came to full consciousness and sat up more in bed, his tone becoming more serious. “What’s wrong, y/n?”
“It’s my boyfriend; he.. it doesn’t matter. Could you please just come and get me?”
Any previous mention you’ve made of your current partner to Spencer was quite vague and awfully cryptic, and he could sense something was very wrong from how you tried to deflect from the topic of him.
Spencer had never left his bed sooner—even on rare mornings where he was late for work—and immediately agreed to pick you up whilst he fumbled with his slippers and tying his robe.
That same robe is still wrapped over his body, covering his grandpa-esque pajamas. You seem to be his top priority at all times, because he didn’t think twice before hopping in his car and driving straight to you. Just like you, he also looks a mess, with his hair mussed from sleep and heavy bags under his eyes.
Your eyes meet his, but it’s difficult to see him properly due to your blurred vision caused by all the non-stop crying. He begins to talk again.
“You don’t need to tell me what happened, okay? I want you to understand that. If you ever do want to talk, though, I’m right here. I’ll listen to you.”
“Thank you.. and I’m sorry for making you drive all this way just to pick up some battered woman.”
“You are not a battered woman, y/n.” Spencer cuts you off, his tone harsh, really trying to get you to believe it. “Nothing he does is your fault; you know that, right?” You’re hesitant to nod, but you do.
“Y/n,” he drawls, knowing you’re not entirely convinced it’s the truth.
“I know that, Spencer.” You respond, already wanting to be done with this conversation.
“I know you know that, but you seem to not be accepting it as fact.”
You sulk, but you can’t help but realize he’s correct; you don’t seem to be accepting it.
“Alright.”
“Alright?” He mimics.
“Yes, alright. I understand.”
“Ok, good, because I don’t want you to feel any guilt over his actions. I just want to help you.”
His words warm your heart and bring additional tears to your eyes. They roll down your face, staining your cheeks. His hand returns to the place it was earlier, rubbing circles on your back.
“I care for you so much, and it pains me to see you going through something like this.” You nod, wiping your tears off your face before they can wet your sweatshirt too.
“Thank you so much, Spencer.”
“It’s no problem; just try not to stress; we’ll be home soon..”
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583 notes · View notes
milswrites · 17 days
Text
The Trials of Aphrodite Part Five
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Series Masterlist
Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.
Chapter summary: You make the most unlikely of friends.
Warnings: Angst.
“I think you should talk to Elain.”
You scoffed as you looked up from the pages of your book, brows raised and eyes rolling as you turned your once focused gaze to the anticipatory stare of your friend, “Good morning to you too, Az. I’m swell, thank you for asking.”
Hazel eyes narrowing at your remark, a sound of disbelief fell from Azriel’s lips as your attention returned to the book between your hands. Disgruntled by his piercing gaze, you stubbornly moved the object to block him from your view. Your action drawing a groan of contention from the shadowsinger as he argued, “Oh come on sweetheart, I just got ahead of myself. I’m sorry, alright?”
Azriel sighed lowly as he realized you weren’t going to budge, lips downturned as his hands came to rest on either arm of the chair you were curled up in. “Angel?” he asked tentatively, leaning forwards until the tip of his nose brushed against the spine of your book, a teasing finger coming to push the novel down until his amused gaze met your own formidable glare. The heated breath of his mirthful chuckle kissing your cheeks as he smirked, “How’s my best friend doing on this lovely day?”
You snorted at his question, eyes unforgiving as you answered flatly, “I’m telling Cassian that you called me your best friend.”
The shadowsinger chuckled at your words, shrugging his shoulders in dismissal as he added, "Come on angel. If you don't tell me how your day is, I guess I'm just going to have to tell Rhys that it was you who knocked over the entire shelf of his expensive wines last solstice."
You slammed your book shut, glaring daggers at the male as you seethed, "You wouldn't dare! You swore you would never tell!"
"You're right, and I always make good on my promises. But it's nice to see your beautiful face again." Azriel grinned devilishly, sliding the book from your lap before you could utilize it as a weapon, "Now, how's my angel doing today?"
You huffed, unable to stop the small smile from pulling at your lips at the male's antics, "Slightly annoyed that I still fall for your same tricks after five hundred years of friendship."
"But you still love me all the same," Azriel grinned. Your eyes shied from his playful gaze as he spoke, cheeks turning pale as you wondered if Azriel knew just how truthful his statement was. Yet the male failed to notice your change in demeanor, rather, he proceeded once more with tentatively approaching the topic of his arrival, "So much so that you'd talk to Elain for me?"
You slumped into your chair, resisting the urge to groan in frustration at your friend's proposal, "Az, I have never once spoken to Elain. Don't you think she'd be suspicious if I started trying to be her friend out of the blue?"
"But isn't that what wingmen -" Azriel shrank under your unimpressed stare, nervously laughing as he corrected himself, " - sorry - wingwomen do?"
Your mouth parted wordlessly, mind searching for any possible excuse as to why you talking to Elain for him would be a bad idea. But it was too late, Azriel had sensed your reluctance. His hand coming to meet your own as he pleaded his case, "There is not a single person in Prythian you could talk to who wouldn't fall for your charm. Look . . . It'll be easy. I just think I may have more of a chance with her if you shared some things about me that you think she may like to hear."
"What, like the fact that you still sleep with the stuffed bat I gave you centuries ago?" you teased as payback for his earlier comment, taking pleasure in the way Azriel's smile dropped in horror. The male's eyes blowing wide in alarm as he stammered a pitiful response, "How did you -? . . . I- I don't sleep with him anymore!"
"Him?" you laughed at Azriel’s pitiful attempt of a burning glare, throwing your head back in glee at the sight. Proud that you were possibly the only person alive who could be on the receiving end of one of the shadowsinger's threatening stares and live to tell the tale.
"You're hilarious, truly" Azriel replied flatly, “It’s nice to see how much you care about my love life”. The shadowsinger, unamused by your incessant giggling, permissed a grave expression to cross his face as he continued to press the matter, "Please. I really need her to like me, and if that means that I need to ask my guardian angel to work her magic . . ."
Your heart clenched at his words, the laughter dying in your throat as your eyes fell from his own pleading ones to the hands at your lap. Stare cold and broken as you realized Rhysand had been wrong the other day. You could never say no. Not to Azriel.
You were a victim of your own heart's desire, cursed with the unfortunate luck of only ever being able to answer the male with words he so longed to hear. Azriel the commander and executioner of your love as your reply slipped from your lips before you could even think about stopping yourself, "Of course I'll speak to her, Az. That's what friends do, right?"
"And what a great friend you are" he grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing at your acceptance, "I'll pay you back for this, I promise. We'll go to that restaurant you like, the one down by the Rainbow."
"Yeah. . .” Azriel was gone before you could even finish your sentence, his shadows lingering for a moment before they ultimately decided on following their master, “That sounds nice. . ."
You quietly sigh, vacant eyes never straying from your lap as you move your shaky hands to cling onto the arms of the chair, gripping the velvet upholstery in an effort to stop your uncontrollable trembling.
Terrified at the prospect of facing the female who was in every way your superior, you exhaled deeply. Rubbing at the growing ache in your temples as you readied yourself to look into the eyes of the cauldron-blessed fae who had stolen Azriel’s heart.
It didn't take long to find her.
The majority of Elain’s days were typically spent within the walls of her garden, the timid female preferring to pass her time with the company of flowers rather than that of other fae.
Perhaps you could tell yourself that was why the two of you had never spoken. That her quiet, reserved nature was the reason for the silence between you. That it had absolutely nothing to do with the shadowsinger who had managed to capture both of your affections.
If that were the case, perhaps you would have allowed yourself to have visited her garden sooner. Sparing the time to come and admire the beautifully blooming flowers, taking the opportunity to bask in the soothing tranquility of your surroundings. You had to admit it was impressive, the radiant life that Elain had managed to bring to the garden that the workers have otherwise been unable to do so.
But you also had to admit that you have been selfish, and unfairly so. Unable to help but wonder if your reason for visiting Elain today was a punishment from the gods, a penalty for having not been more welcoming to the female upon her arrival to the Night Court.
It didn't take long for Elain to notice your presence in her garden, the sound of your approaching footsteps being enough to pull the female's attention from the flowers she was tending to. Her brow creased in confusion as she saw exactly who it was walking towards her.
"Uh, hello Elain," you awkwardly began, smile tight as you mentally cursed yourself for your uncomfortable demeanor, "I saw you through the window and I um . . . I thought you may appreciate a tea."
Elain's eyes dropped to the cup held between your shaky hands, mouth slightly parting in question at your unusually kind gesture, "Oh . . . "
Sighing, you closed the distance between you, placing the cup on the ground before opting to sit beside the female. "It was Azriel's idea" you confessed, tentatively glancing in Elain's direction, noting how her ears pricked at the mention of your friend's name, "He thought it might be a nice idea for you to have someone to talk to. . . The tea was all me though."
"That's nice of him" Elain allowed a soft smile to grace her lips, moving to pick up the cup before she nervously added, "and you, thank you for the tea."
"Yeah, he's always watching out for the people he cares about" you winced at your words, eyes closing in shame as you were aware of just how terribly this conversation was going. Moving your hand to pick at the hem of your dress as you resisted the urge to flee in embarrassment.
But if Elain were bothered by your uneasy company she didn't show, moving to pick up her trowel once more as she resumed her gardening, her words light as she replied, "I know I'm considerably younger than all you fae, but that doesn't make me stupid. I know why you're here."
You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing as you found yourself unable to stop the rising wave of panic which had begun to wash over you, nervous eyes flickering over the poised female as you breathlessly asked, "What?"
"I know love when I see it" Elain answered, briefly turning from her task so her brown eyes could meet your own, "That's why Azriel sent you to talk to me wasn't it? Because he thinks he loves me."
"You know?" you asked at a higher octave than deemed normal, unable to help the surprised laugh which escaped your lips, leaning back onto your hands as you allowed the information to soak in. Mouth dropped in disbelief as you gathered your thoughts, "You'd certainly make for a better spymaster than him."
"It doesn't exactly take a spymaster to see it" Elain smirked slightly, seemingly pleased by your astonished reaction. Gesturing to a spare trowel she continued, "Come on, if we're going to talk you may as well be helping me."
A feeling of satisfied contentment washed over you as the two of you worked in a comfortable silence. It wasn't hard to understand why Elain loved to spend all of her time here, the quiet calm of the garden was a suitable place to sieve through the questions which had risen at her revelation.
Wondering exactly where it was you were supposed to begin, you tentatively asked, "So why haven't you told him that you know?" Your face immediately turning pale as your tumultuous thoughts had already answered for her, heart racing as you voiced the glaring question on your mind, "Unless you don't love him back?"
It had always been a possibility that Elain didn't share the same feelings for Azriel as he did for her. You would be lying if you said you hadn't hoped for it. Having already pondered the possibility that if the shadowsinger were to be rejected, his lovesick eyes may then turn to you. You almost scoffed at how pathetic the idea was.
And yet, inexplicably, a sinking feeling had risen in your chest. Heart already breaking at the mere thought of how Azriel would react to the terrible news that Elain didn't like him back.
It took several moments for the female to reply, mind lost to her own thoughts as she searched for an appropriate answer. "Love him?" Elain pondered, gaze distant as she stared at a budding flower before her, "No. But I could grow to."
The soft sigh which escaped from Elain's lips told you she had more to say, her eyes thinly veiled by a white mist as she began to explain her reasoning, “I was engaged once - if you'd believe it - but then the war happened, and Hybern, and then by some cruel trick of fate the cauldron turned me into the one thing that my fiancé had always been taught to hate."
You failed to find an answer worthy of speaking, sympathy brewing in your chest at the female's admission that her transition has been more than difficult. Guilty, that between your bitterness and jealousy, you hadn't stopped to think about exactly what it was Elain was going through. 
"I never got a choice, not when I got shoved into the cauldron and not when I got brought here. . . So I don't really know what it is I want with my life anymore. I'm not even sure I know who I am. But I do know Azriel makes me happy," Elain's words drew you from your spiraling shame, a wistful smile on the young fae's face as she spoke about the male, "When I'm with him I don't have to be who I used to be. . . He gives me the room to figure out who I am in this new life I have been given."
"You make him happy too, Elain" you answered with a sad smile, swallowing your pain as you tried to blink away your rising tears, "He really does think the world of you."
It didn’t take long for you to realize you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you, your face blanching as shock crossed Elain's features. Her eyes full of sorrow as she turned her gaze to you, "You love him?" 
"And he loves you."
You did your best to shrug away the females sympathetic stare as you moved to continue gardening, yet Elain's pitiful eyes remained on you, lips downturned as she queried, "How long?"
You laughed at the answer to her question, too embarrassed to reveal to Elain that you had wasted centuries pining after a male who would never love you back, "Let's just say it's been long enough for me to know it's time to move on." 
Elain hummed in quiet understanding, taking a moment to think before her head tilted in question, "And have you?”
"Have I what?"
"Moved on?" 
There was no malice in Elain Acheron's voice, not as each question she asked was delivered with such empathy. Rather, you found yourself blushing at her curious nature, a shy smile gracing your features as you found yourself revealing, "I'm getting there, one day at a time. . . I may have met someone the other day."
Elain squealed in excitement, dropping her trowel as she moved her body to face yours, eagerly outstretching her hands to meet your own as she laced them together and begged, "Tell me everything."
"There's not much to tell" you reply honestly, ears burning at the thought of the male you had met the other day, "We've only met once, at the bakery in Velaris. He spilt his coffee all over me and then we just got talking. I don't know. . . It just felt so natural, for once in my life I didn't find myself thinking of . . . well . . . Az. He asked to meet me again but -"
"Oh you have to!" Elain cried, an encouraging grin crossing her face as she urged you to take the step. Her searching eyes not failing to miss the hesitance in your own;, hands squeezing yours as she offered her advice, “Moving on isn’t meant to be easy. But the regret you’ll feel if you miss this chance will hurt more. . . Besides you never know, this male might surprise you, it already sounds like he’s swept you off your feet.”
You smiled at Elain, the thought of males far from your mind as you found yourself unable to think of anything other than how utterly and completely wrong you had been about her. Brows knitted together in regret, you expressed this to the female, “You know, you’re not quite the person I expected you to be Elain Archeron.”
The fae's eyes twinkled in response, a matching smile upon her lips as she replied, “No, neither are you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Sorry for the wait for this part 🥲 my uni kind of killed me off for a moment. And thank you to @sarawritestories who helped me iron this part out because my brain is fried at the moment.
Taglist:
@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @lady-of-tearshed @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend
444 notes · View notes
thebestofoneshots · 9 months
Text
tastes | Marauders x Reader
Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, oral (male receiving), P in V, lots of praise (especially from Remus), Sirius gets all the love he deserves, consent is sexy, lusty!boys, сreаm piе, they literally can't take their eyes off you.
Prompt: Inspired by the sense of taste. Reader has a very strong gag reflex, so the boys have never asked you to blow them, and you love them for it. But today, you want to taste them.
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tastes is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand-alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.
18+ readers only (smut under the cut)
Cum Feel The Noize
You had always had pretty strong gag reflex, just brushing your tongue while you brushed your teeth made you want to puкe sometimes, it wasn’t ideal, but it was what you were born with so you settled. 
The boys knew, you’d been friends with them long before you started dating, and you had been pretty vocal about it, really, you were just so comfortable with them around that you didn’t mind talking about those things.
“What about sucking a dicк?” Sirius asked, half teasingly, half because he’d been genuinenly curious. He got elbowed by James after asking, but you just laughed.   
“Nah, it’s fine,” you told James dismissively “In truth, I’ve never done that.” 
“Never, ever? Not even the tip?” Asked James impressed, now curious as well. You shook your head as an answer.
“Not even when you dated that stupid Harland boy?” asked Remus. They all hated Harland because they all liked you, even then, a few months before you started all dating each other.
“Harland?” you asked in disbelief “Hell no! He asked a couple of times but, I just couldn’t do it,” you admitted “I really didn’t want to puкe all over his dicк.” 
“Understandable,” Remus nodded. 
“Yeah, you’d think. That’s why we broke up tho.” 
“What? Shut up!” James said, almost standing straigther.
“No, it’s true!” you said with a nod “He said there were plenty other girls in the market, and that most of them would die just to get the chance to suck him off.”
“And what did you tell him?” Sirius asked. 
“To fuck off,” you said with a laugh “didn’t even like him that much anyway,” you said with a sight, “But he’s so petty, he asked me to go see him in one of the abandoned classrooms to give me back some of my stuff, but he had just gotten a girl to blow him there. So when I arrived–” 
James gasped, he had his mouth open wide, completely shocked.
“–Poor girl, she was so embarrassed ‘cause she thought we were still dating. Which in hindsight, probably makes is worse. Anyway, he tried to go after me and jinxed him.” 
“We thought you stopped dating because he moved away.” 
“Nope, he moved away because the girl told all her friends about it and gave him the worst reputation.” 
Fast forward to now, you had been dating them for almost a year, and they had, never once, asked you to suck them off, not even by accident, which only made you love them even more, making you realize they truly listened, the difference abysmal between them and Harland, who’d asked hundreds of times, and your boys, who actually cared about you and your limits. And since they also had each other to have fun with it, neither of them missed out on getting blowjobs all that often either. Benefits of being in a poly relationship. 
But the boys were always so caring, and so giving, both in and outside of the bedroom, that you really wanted to give back to them. In fact, seeing the way James sucked Remus once, made you want to test it yourself, mouth watering at the thought. You had done your research too, asked your friends about their techniques and paid a lot more attention when they were doing each other, making mental notes of the things they clearly liked and the things they didn’t. For the first time in your life, you actually wanted to try. 
So, on Sirius’ birthday, you thought it’d be your chance. The boy had asked Peter for the room and he happily left the three of them to do their thing while going to bunk with his own girlfriend. Remus had been the one to pick you up at your room with the invisibility cloak that day. 
“You ready luv?” he asked tenderly when you got out of your room, quickly enveloping you in the cloak as he stood behind you.
“Very ready,” you said with a little smirk, which had Remus raise one of his eyebrows. Did you plan something? That’s definitely your “I’ve planned something” tone.
He dipped his head in the crook of your neck and gave it a short whiff “You’re wearing Sirius’ favourite perfume,” he mouthed, you could feel his lips brushing against your skin, already sending warmth to your core. “What else?” 
 You smiled mischievously “Nothing else,” you admitted. 
A rush of blood went straight to his cock when he heard you say that so confidently, and he finally peaked from his spot in your neck, looking through the thin white shirt you were wearing, he could see your nipple perking underneath the fabric, marking it ever so slightly. “Fuck, dove you’re such a tease.” 
You shrugged, turning to press a kiss to his cheek, realizing how blown out his pupils were already, “You know how much Sirius loves it.” 
He slid his hands under your skirt, only feeling the outside of your tight, all the way to your waist, as if trying to feel if you really had nothing underneath at the bottom. “Yeah, he’s not the only one,” he grunted, digging his digits a little, just below your pelvis. You pressed yourself to him a little more, realizing he was already getting turned on, even from such a short interaction, which only fueled you even more, turning completely around you wrapped your fingers on his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He complied, pushing you against a nearby wall as he kissed back, hands still extended above his head to keep the cloak covering the two of you. When you finally separated, you were both panting, his lips were already pink from the stimulation, and he brought one of his hands down to accommodate his pants, they were already making him uncomfortable. 
“Come on handsome,” you told him with a smile, butting your bottom lip for a mere second and pulling at his bicep ever so slightly, “Why don’t we continue the party inside?” 
When you arrived at their room, Sirius was on his bed, sketching something in his notebook while James was setting up the record player. After all the initial plan had been to just chill and listen to music together. But you all knew that wasn’t going to be the end of the story from the moment the suggestion left Remus’ lips. 
You went straight to Siri, pressing a chaste kiss over his mouth as you laid down next to him “Happy birthday Puppy!” 
“That’s like the 10th time today you say that,” James teased. 
“It’s probably just an excuse to snog him,” added Remus. 
You shrugged and leaned in again, pressing another short kiss to Sirius’ soft lips “Happy birthday,” you whispered again. 
Sirius just smiled, he loved when you showered him with attention, he had always had a knack for being the center of it, but when he was the center of yours, it made him soar, “You can snog me without wishing me happy birthday kitten, in fact, you can snog me whenever the hell you want.” 
You laughed at the suggestive little smirk he made and searched with your hand to grab his. Sirius would definitely go crazy with how much attention you were all about to give him. He leaned in a little closer, dipping his head in the crook of your neck as he turned  “You smell nice,” he whispered. 
James almost jumped to the bed, placing the top half of his body over the bottom half of yours, his head looking at you from above your belly, “Don’t act like we aren’t in the room,” he said with a pout, placing a hand over your bare leg. 
“We weren’t,” Sirius said, still from the crook of your neck “We were just giving you a show,” he added in the end, you could feel the smirk in his tone. Remus laughed, still standing in the middle of the room as he took off his sweater, passing it over his head, slowly, Remus was the most patient of the three; unless you were close to the moon.
You took a deep breath, feeling James’ forearm press against your belly as you did, he leaned down over them and noticed. “You’re not wearing a bra today,” he said as he raised just the edge of your shirt to get a peak. 
“And it’s not the only thing I didn’t put on,” you said teasingly. 
Sirius turned to you shocked “Shut up.” 
“Why don’t you see it for yourself,” you said with a smirk. Sirius didn’t think twice as he dipped his hand under your skirt. Unlike Remus, he went straight to your slick, feeling how wet you already were. 
“Bloody hell kitten, you’re soaked,” he said, now his own eyes blown out in lust “Wait, why are you so…?” he turned to Remus, who just shrugged in response, a cheeky smile playing on his face. He narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to you, “fine then… my turn,” he said, lightly pushing James off you as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on top of him, you were now straddling him, each leg to the side of his. The friction of his pants in your core, only making you all the more turned on, you ground yourself against him, which had him moan, if ever so lightly. James had placed one hand over your tight as he moved to kiss Sirius’ neck. Today was his day, after all. 
You smiled, slowly grinding yourself against the boy one more time before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Remus was sitting on the bed beside yours, lousily looking at the three of you as he patted himself. After a couple more kisses, you reached your hand under Sirius’ shirt, and both you and James pulled Sirius on a sitting position so you could completely remove it, gently passing it over his head. James didn’t leave him lay back down though, he pressed himself behind him to gain better access to his neck instead. 
You smiled, still kissing Sirius as you fumbled your fingers over the button of his trousers. “Someone’s thirsty,” he teased. 
“You wouldn’t know how much,” you whispered enigmatically. There it is again, Remus thought, she’s onto something. With the help of James, you managed to remove Sirius’ pants too. Playing with the hem of his trousers as you continued to grind onto his leg. Now it was your turn, moving in tandem with James, the two of you managed to lay Sirius back, over James’ chest, who rubbed soft circles on his arms as he watched you grind onto his boyfriend. Sirius was malleable, in fact, at this point, he would let you do whatever the hell you wanted with him, he wasn’t sure he was even still on earth. 
Finally, you pulled his boxers down, pulling back just a little when his thick cock sprang out, pressing against his stomach from the force of the release. You licked your lips but stood back straight, taking your time to throw the boxers somewhere. Remus smiled, you were being fast tonight, maybe he’ll get his turn faster than– 
He lost his train of thought, you had dropped kisses all over Sirius’ stomach and your face was dangerously close to his cock. It wasn’t unusual that you played and rubbed their cocks with your hands, but you usually kept your head a little further away from them. 
He almost completely lost it when he noticed you playing with Sirius’ tights, pressing kisses against them as you spread them a little with your hands. That was a move he knew all too well, he’d done it several times. Finally, when you leaned down and pressed your lips against Sirius’ cock, it was he who jumped out of James’ grasp, Remus crossing the distance that there was in between the two of you with two long strides. 
“Kitten what are you–” Sirius asked, his throat dry. 
“–what do you think?” you said, motioning to his cock. 
“But your gag reflex sweetheart,” James said, he was peering through Sirius’ shoulders. 
Your heart warmth at the boys’ concern, “I wanna try,” you added. 
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do it… If you feel pressured into it because it’s my birthday then–” 
“–It’s not that,” you cut him off “I want to try.”  
“Are you very sure luv?” Remus asked, he had leaned down near the bed to level his head with yours. 
You nodded “Positive.” 
“Sirius can be a little desperate sometimes,” James added “We can help you hold him in place so he doesn’t accidentally jerk too hard into your throat, How does that sound?” 
You peered to look at him through your lashes, Sirius thought you’d never looked more stunning “If Sirius is all right with that.” 
The boy in question nodded excitedly, and James leaned a little to the side, pressing one of his legs, while Remus held him from the other side. 
“We’re ready,” Remus said with a short nod. 
You nodded in response, taking a deep breath, and leaned back down pressing little kisses on Sirius’ soft abdomen before placing your hand over his balls. You’d seen James do it, and Sirius seemed to like it when he did. 
Judging by the way he moaned, he also enjoyed it when you did. After kneading them a little more, and rubbing circles over his tight with your other hand, you placed your hand around his cock, pumping it a couple of times before finally leaning down, placing a light kiss over his tip. The sound Sirius emitted was so sinful, you felt your arousal dripping from your cunt. 
James had moved over the bed, one hand still over Sirius’ leg, the other on his cock, he was watching mouth dry as you leaned down on Sirius. He had only dreamed of you doing such a thing, never daring to ask for it. 
You took a deep breath, and went for a long lick, all the way from shaft to the end. Remus smirked, such a tease, he thought. 
Sirius moaned again, head plopping back into the pillows James had placed when he moved to the side.
Remus hummed “Stop teasing him so much sweetheart,” he said as he placed a hand on the side of Sirius’ face, brushing lightly from his temple to his neck all the while looking tenderly at the boy, “He might just combust in flames if you keep it up.” 
You stroked Sirius one more time, brushing your thumb over his tip the way you knew he liked so much and then you leaned down again, this time wrapping your mouth around his tip. You didn’t go down too deep at first, only really staying around the tip, making sure to test how much you could actually fit into your mouth without it getting uncomfortable. 
You started moving your tongue around his tip, nipping and teasing. Another moan escaped from Sirius’ mouth, James didn’t know where to look as he touched himself, either at you or Sirius’ pleasure-driven face. At some point, you felt a slight buckle of Sirius’ hips, or at least an attempt of it, since both James and Remus had managed to restrain him from moving too much. 
“Please,” he begged. You knew exactly what he wanted. When he got all whinny like that, it was because he wanted you to pick up the pace, either by stroking him faster or bobbing your hips up and down his length. You squeezed slightly with your hand since you knew how much he liked it when you clenched your “tight little pussy” around him. And finally, you started to bob your head up and down, slowly, taking in very little of him in your mouth at first. Testing the waters.
Sirius emitted the kind of groan you only heard of him when he was so deep into you, he couldn’t think of anything else. You then felt Remus’ hand, the one he wasn’t using to hold Sirius’s hip, moving under your skirt. Slowly moving up until he reached the tender flesh of the inside of your tight. And then he went further up, tracing your slit with his long finger. 
“Fuck,” he whispered, “Pads, if you could feel how wet she is at this point… she’s practically dripping.”
Remus knew exactly what he was doing, Sirius was as much into physical pleasure as emotional, much like you were, and Remus was well aware knowing such a thing would set his boyfriend on fire, he wasn’t wrong, you could feel his hips trying to buckle into your mouth again, only to be stopped by the boys’ strong hands.  
Remus did not remove his hand either, he kept playing around your slit, slowly parting with two fingers as you perked your ass just a bit more for easier access, which just had him grin. You moaned when he placed one of his fingers over your clit and started rubbing, Remus had the most confident grip when it came to finger fucking you, and he always delivered. 
You started taking in a bit more of Sirius, forcing yourself a little over what you’d consider your comfort zone. Every moan his noises and Remus’ hands pulled from you, reverberating across his cock and bringing him closer. 
“Sweethea… aaaah, fuck.” Sirius was trying to tell you something, but the way his moans sounded, you knew exactly what he wanted to say. 
Regardless, it was James who took his hand away from his own cock and bought it to caress your back, “Kitten…” he said softly, you eyed him, not stopping the way you moved your mouth around Sirius, which almost got him to lose his train of thought, “Kitten, Sirius is about to come,” he informed. 
You hummed in response, being aware of it already. You knew. Finally, that brought Remus back into the conversation “Wait, luv, does that mean you’re going to…” you hummed again. 
“fuck,” you heard him whisper. She’s gonna swallow, he thought, not being able to keep his eyes off you. 
Sirius was just as impressed, even if he wasn’t thinking much at this point, he had brought his hand down, and he toyed with your hair before settling it just over the back of your neck, he wasn’t pushing though, he was rubbing soft circles with his thumb, even amongst all the madness you’d brought to him, he was still thinking of your comfort. 
You drove your head up and down three more times, and then you felt it, warm and a little salty, spurring into your mouth. And as you had planned you swallowed it all, helping Sirius ride through his orgasm by still bobbing your head a couple of times. 
“It’s ok sweetheart,” you heard James, he still had his hand on your back “He’s done, you can stop.” 
You did, slowly taking your mouth out and letting your head fall over Sirius’ belly, making sure to keep your ass up so Remus wouldn’t stop toying with your pussy, which he wasn’t planning on either way. Sirius looked at you, breath heavy as he wrapped his hand over your cheek, “That was incredible sweets, and for your first time.” 
You pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his stomach, and then turned your eyes back to him “I’d been observing you…” you said. Being stoped by your own moan as Remus drove a finger inside of you “taking notes of what each of my boys likes best.” 
“fuck you’re so tight,” the boy whispered, only James heard, you and Sirius were too wrapped in your own little bubble. 
“Have you now?” he said with a teasing smile, “you might become the best of the three,” he whispered, it earned him a smack from James, who had been attentively watching the way Remus finger fucked you, imagining how it would look like without the skirt. 
“Next time you beg for me to blow you after a game I’ll tell you to go beg elsewhere,” he teased. Which earned a chuckle from you and Sirius. 
“I want to see,” Sirius added, motioning to Remus’ hand under your skirt. 
“That makes two of us,” James said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a sitting position, you whined in response, almost crying at the loss of Remus’ expert fingers. 
“It’s ok baby, we’re just gonna reposition,” James cooed, and he started to unbutton your shirt as Remus got on the bed, taking off his shirt in one swift motion before helping James remove yours. The boys moved in tandem, smoothly as if they knew exactly what the other was about to do next, which perhaps they did, since they knew each other so well. Once the shirt was off, you felt the cold air perk your nipples, giving both boys sitting in front of you their own little show. While that was going on, Remus was the one to unbutton and unzip your skirt, lifting you up towards him as James pulled it off. 
Remus placed you in between his legs, enjoying the feeling of the soft bare skin of your back flushing against his torso. He hadn’t yet removed his pants, but you could feel how hard he was under them, so hard it’s gotta be painful.
But Remus had only two moods, either being patient or being desperate; today he was the first one, so when you rocked your hips back, trying to get a reaction, he just held you down “Steady on sweetheart, let us enjoy you first.” 
And they were going to enjoy you, while Remus spread you wide open, carefully passing your feet over his legs so they would stay in position, James had leaned in to spread soft kisses on your neck. All of you facing Sirius, who was just smiling darkly at the sight. 
Remus was slow at first, passing a hand over your inner tight, massaging the soft skin before getting closer to your slit. Even then, he just massaged around it “Remus!” you whined, which only earned him a chuckle. 
“What is it luv?” he asked, playing dumb. 
“Yeah, what is it?” James asked, unlaching his lips from your neck and turning to you, joining the teasing. 
“Please!” you added, grabbing onto Remus’ hand and placing it on your slit. 
Finally, he complied, tracing his strong fingers over your slit, still impossibly wet. James had already moved on to kiss one of your nipples, nipping and teasing the tender skin. Sucking it into peaks before laying it back with his tongue. One of his hands had been placed in the small of your neck, and the other on your other breast, making sure not to let it skip on the fun. 
“How are you three so goddamned beautiful?” you heard Sirius mumble as he enjoyed the view. 
This time around, after toying with your clit once more, Remus placed two fingers inside instead of one, which had you gasp, but he just smiled devilishly as he thrusted them in and out, eliciting one of his favourite sounds in the world, your moans. While lost in bliss, you felt James’ cock brush against your skin, which made you remember how forgotten you had left him tonight, so you reached out and brushed your hand around it, brushing your thumb over the tip a couple of times, earning a couple of moans from him. 
“Yes, please,” he whispered, and you complied, finally starting to stroke him. James did not stop the kissing as you continued to move your hand up and down his length, only moaning your name a couple of times, and squeezing your breast a little tighter when he was close. 
You were just as close, you realized Remus had been not only finger fucking you, but preparing you as well, slowly stretching you out with the help of his two fingers. Remus was big, and without stretching, he just didn’t fit in. And if he was stretching you out, then it meant he knew he’d get your wet little cunt tonight and it only fueled him more and turned you on even more in return. You buckled your hips against his fingers a couple of times, and his pace became faster. Just like your stroking around James’ cock. 
James came first, thrusting into your hand as his cum dripped all over it, finally unlatching himself from your nipples and breathing heavily as he stared dumbly at you and Remus, lips parted and slightly red, just the sight of it made you buckle your hips against Remus’ hand once again. He was about to take his wand to clean your hand with it, when Remus used his free hand to bring it over to his mouth and ran his tongue from your wrist bone to your fingers, licking most James’ cum along, which James swore made his cock twitch again. 
And then Remus turned to you, not slowing down the pace on your pussy, but looking as calm as unbothered as if he were a teacher asking a student for an answer “Do you want to taste him too, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, and he pushed your hand towards your mouth, carefully placing the soft section between your thumb and your wrist right over your lips, it was the only section still covered with James’ cum, and you slowly brought your lips around it, sucking carefully on your hand and letting your lips slowly go back to their place as Remus’ pulled your hand out. James was a little saltier than Sirius, but also relatively sweet.
“fuck… i’m gonna end up getting hard again,” you heard James’ groan, which had Sirius chuckle as he pulled the boy towards him. 
“Come Prongs, enjoy the show with me,” he said with a smile. James leaned in and gave Sirius a short kiss before leaning on his shoulder. 
“All right sweetheart, your turn,” Remus said as he brought his index finger from the other hand to your clit, you leaned your head back on his shoulder, buckling your hips against him with more conviction now that you weren’t distracted by anything else. 
His pace quickened and you moaned and whined under his expert hands “Hmmm… please Rem, I’m about to…” 
“It’s ok baby, be good and come all over my fingers,” he cooed, and you did, harshly pulling your head back as you allowed him to finger fuck you to oblivion. “There we go, such a good girl for me, isn’t that right?” he praised, as he brought his hand, still wet with your slick over to his mouth and sucked sinfully over the two fingers that were inside of you, moaning as he tasted your juices. He then turned back to you again. “Now, are you gonna allow me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours tonight or do you feel too tired already?” 
You wanted nothing more than for Remus to stretch you up just right, so you nodded, head still a little foggy from the high, “Please Remus,” you added for good measure, moving your hips back just to feel him press against you one more time. 
Finally, you moved to the side, allowing the boy to take both his pants and underwear off before he laid down on the bed, Remus knew it was easier for you to be the one to ride him, at least at first –and when he was the first one– since that way you had a little more control over how big he was, and he was always more than happy to let you do it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the way your breast bounced as you bobbed up and down his length. And he knew the boys liked it just as much, so he strategically laid in a way so that they would get a good view of you. 
You slowly straddled him, placing both knees on each side of his hip before rubbing yourself against his cock a couple of times, causing him to moan this time. You were still so fucking wet.
Eventually, you lifted yourself up and lined him with your entrance. He placed both of his hands around your hips, to help hold you up as you slowly pushed yourself down, moaning as you went as deep as you could. Remus had responded to your tightness with a grunt, truth be told he’d been dreaming of it from the moment he went to pick you up. 
You started bobbing up and down his length, slow at first, but picking up that pace as your walls got used to his size. Remus had his hands on your waist, helping you move easily as he started to thrust up into you, reaching the right spot. “fuck… yes,” you said breathily as he continued thrusting.
“So fucking tight,” Remus breathed as he helped you ride him, completely focused on you, on your parted lips, your soft huffs and moans; you were absolutely entrancing in the way you moved your hips on him, “You’re taking me in so well sweetheart…” 
You moaned, and clenched around him, which just caused him to buckle against you even harder. That got you to whimper and you brought both of your palms to lay over his shoulders, to hold yourself better as you continued to rock your hips on the boy, “Baby… if you keep that up I’m not gonna last,” he added, and just to tease him, you clenched again, eliciting a moan from the boy so sinful, it fueled you to keep moving, faster this time around.
“So beautiful, aren’t they Prongs?” you heard Sirius say, almost not quite registering it with the way Remus’ cock trusted into you right after. The other boy hummed in response, not able to take his eyes off the way you were moving. 
When Remus was close, he switched the two of you around, laying you flat on the bed as he brought one of his hands over to your clit, “Be a good girl and come for me one last time sweetheart,” he said as he continued to thrust. Holding back his own orgasm, he wanted to hear you moan his name as he came. 
And after a few more flicks and circles of his thumb, with his pace quickening, you came, “hmm Remus…” you whispered as he continued to thrust inside of you, the way your walls clenched around tipping the boy over the edge, he had hold it back so long, he practically grunted into your ear and spiled inside of you.
Eventually, he pulled back, staring at your pussy as he panted, you knew what he wanted and so you squeezed, allowing the thick white liquid to spill from your inside, dripping from your entrance to the back of your ass. Remus really liked to see the evidence of fucking you, somehow satisfying his most primal desires, or so he’d told you once. 
Remus brought one of his hands back to your cunt, you shivered with the contact since you were still slightly overstimulated, but he didn’t budge, using his middle and index to gather some of your combined juices, he angled his head cockily, “Are you gonna taste me tonight as well sweetheart?” he asked. 
You smiled wickedly, using your elbows to prop yourself up and leaning in towards the boy’s hand, not bothering to answer as you opened your mouth and wrapped it around both of his fingers, making sure to let your lips pull as you slowly hollowed your mouth and pulled yourself back, licking your lips as you completely separated from the boy. Remus had not been expecting that, his cocky demeanour faltering as his mouth dried. Remus was the sweetest of the three. 
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A/N: this is the third piece of smut I’ve written so far, and omg this definitely got out of hand. Regardless… I do feel like I’m getting the hang of it. Maybe? A little bit? At least I don’t feel the cringe, anymore. Saying that, I do still stop myself every now and then and wonder “what the hell am I writing?” In a “I’d be burned in the stake for imagining these things” sort of way haha! Either way, I’m having fun, and that’s what matters!
The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3
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koemiexists · 3 months
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Hey! Can I get dom!Lucifer x fem! Reader pretty pls? Like I love him being a sub, but I don't think there's enough smut of him being a dom 🙏🏽
Accidentally Taking Souls
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summary: you accidentally sold your soul to lucifer, and he accidentally accepted it. it only happens every one in twelve million five hundred fifty seven thousand souls! which also means, you're the first. tags: PANIC ATTACK, comfort, biting, porn with plot basically, not very good friends, dom!lucifer, drunken confessions, but not DRUNKEN sex, choking (consensual), fingering, breeding kink, surprise at the end word count: 4k a/n: this was already sorta on my to-do list, a lucifer x reader shot, then alastor x reader x lucifer shot, but it also fit your ask so !! apologies for delays :) i'm getting to them (a bit slowly...)
Truthfully, you weren’t religious. Your mother had always been, however. She would drag you to church, and make you pray almost all the time. Once you moved out for college, you never looked back.
When she died, she left nothing to you, but a single slip of paper. ‘Don’t sin.’
You truly didn’t care at that point, you didn’t believe in everything she had spewed, and continued to warn you about, even in death. 
She had always warned you about your friends, telling you that they were demons who had risen from Hell to make you sin. It was truly baffling for her to spout her nonsense, especially in front of your friends themselves.
And yet, those very same friends were on your living room floor, staring at you with various smiles of pure delight.
“You want me to do what?”
“It’s not a want, (Name)... It’s a dare.”
You groaned; you were tired of this. “Why are you daring me to sell my soul? To the devil?”
One of your friends just smirked. “He’s not real, right? You shouldn’t have a problem.”
Blinking, you just took a deep breath, and shrugged your shoulders. “You’re right.” You said simply, and sat down.
One of the girls had unfurled from her position on the floor, digging into her bag. “Here.” She started, beginning to take out various things. “I can help you!”
You furrowed your eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “I don’t just say ‘have my soul devil’?”
“Damn (Name), I didn’t expect you to be that dumb.” She joked, bringing a needle to your hand. “No, it doesn’t go like that. If the deal is accepted, you’ll be in Hell.... maybe. That’s what the occult book told me.” She shrugged, pricking your finger, and dropping blood messily. “I just have to draw some runes...”
After the entire ordeal was over, especially the disastrous game of truth and dare, you retired for the night, concluding that you didn’t want to be up any longer and overthink what just happened.
Your friends had cheerily bid you goodbye, and you had waved them away, telling the group you’ll talk to them in a few days.
The last thing you could remember was the pleasant feeling of your sheets, and the cool squishmallow in your arms.
You awoke slowly, you felt as if you were drifting away... and then you felt someone poke at you. 
Dismissing it, you turned away, until it registered in your head. Someone poked you.
You lived alone.
Jolting up in your bed, you looked around. There was a man towering you, grinning sheepishly. You let out a yell, keeping your plushie close to you as you kicked off the sheets covering you, falling off the bed.
Except that didn’t make sense, because your bed was just a mattress on the floor! It was close to the ground, and yet you dropped a good few inches from the ground.
Fear was coursing through your veins, and you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, followed by a serene calmness- but your adrenaline was still pumping, and your inner voice was screaming at you to get up, run run run run run RUN!
You jolted, trying to maneuver yourself to get up and start running away except when you glanced down you started to scream because of your skin tone-- it was a weird hue, definitely not natural, definitely not yours.
“Hey! Calm down- girl- fuck- bitch, calm down!” You let out a hiccup as your eyes flickered from your hands to the man. He seemed to be fiddling with something, before dropping it and orienting you. 
“Sorry,” He huffed, and you managed to get a good look at him. His skin was milky white, and he had platinum blonde hair that was swooped locks. You looked away again, and he gently put you back on the bed. “Don’t fall off again.”
You sniffled, nodding. “Shit.... I don’t even know how this happened. Usually this is when people sell their souls... but I never...” He paused his pacing and muttering, turning to you.
Your hair was obstructing your face as you stared down at your lap, but when he approached you, you instantly stared at him. “Did you sell your soul... to me?”
“You aren’t the Devil.” You said instantly, before clapping a hand over your mouth. “I-”
The man just laughed. “No, you can call me Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” He smirked, his grin wide and toothy as he looked at you with lidded vermillion eyes. “The ruler of Hell.”
You stared, mouth ajar.
And then laughed, boisterous and teetering to purely unsettling.
Lucifer stared at you as you laughed, and laughed... and wait-! No, you were still laughing.
“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a hand on his hip as you still was chuckling, tears in your eyes.
“Okay, I’m having a crazy lucid dream!” You snorted, and searched for a clock, staring at it intensely.
Lucifer cocked his head. “What are you doing?”
“Weird.” You muttered, staring at the clock even more. Why weren't the hands going haywire? Why was it normal? 
You turned your eyes to your hands, studying it. It was... fine. Nothing was abnormal besides the fact your skin was a different color. You felt yourself panicking again, and you closed your eyes, willing for something different to happen.
Your panic began to increase dramatically as you heaved, tearing up as you looked at the clock again. You tried to take in breaths, but it was hard to even register that your lungs were burning.
Hands were gripping your wrists. You felt sick. Your head was pounding, and you knew you had to be yelling, because your throat ached and was scratchy. You could barely see, but you kept thrashing. 
After a while, you felt all your energy zapped from you, you just slumped, sniffling and trying to catch your breath. Blearily, you watched as a muddled version of Lucifer appeared in front of you, looking you over.
“Ok?” He whispered, and you blinked slowly, tilting your head at him slowly. “Is- Did you settle? Uhm. Are you a bit okay now?”
You shrugged, and he wiped your tears, gently gathering you in his arms. His limber figure made his way to what appeared to be a bathroom, and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge bathtub. On the sides were a bunch of rubber ducks.
Lucifer gave you a mischievous look as he placed you down after stripping you down to your underwear, running the water warm. 
“I made them.” He said, placing only certain ones in the water. “Some of these definitely cannot go in.” He moved a light blue one off to the side. “It produces voltage,” Lucifer explained, getting some bubble bath soap, and pouring it over the running water. In an instant, bubbles began to form around you.
You gave him a look. Because, really? Voltage duck?
He pouts a little. “I just... I made them.... Why not? It’s entertaining!”
You don’t know how creating ducks can be entertaining.
Lucifer gave a huge dramatic sigh, pushing his hair back, and bemoaned your inability to see how delightful his ducks were.
“You’re weird,” You uttered, your voice extremely scratchy. Lucifer winced, and quickly whirled his hand, a water bottle appearing. 
“Here,” He said, motioning the water. “It’s cold.” It was cold. “Icy too.” Okay... “Maybe even...” You looked at him, as the water in your mouth began to get colder. “Pure ice.” Your mouth was beginning to get cold, really quickly. “Haha- sorry, bad prank?” Would it even be classified as a prank? More of an inconvenience, especially with how parched you were.
You stared at him silently, drinking more of the cold water that he provided. “So... I’m dead?” You whispered, glancing down at the bubbly surface. 
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t expect to go to Hell so soon.” You muttered, looking around inconspicuously. It was very grand, fit for a king indeed.
Lucifer furrowed his brows, confused at your statement. “You knew you were going to Hell?”
You smiled gently. “Never listened to my mom. Super religious. Wasn’t my style.”
He hummed in response, and helped you finish cleaning up. You felt tired afterwards, and just wanted to sleep now that everything was done. Lucifer led you to a guest bedroom, sprucing up the surroundings a little. He gently tucked you in, and you gave a small noise of appreciation. 
“I’ll show you around, later.”
You yawned, nodding.
“My daughter...” He had a daughter? “She has a hotel.”
“Mmm.”
Lucifer smiled at your sleepy sounds. “Supposed to redeem sinners.” 
You turned over, groaning. “Go away... I don’t care...” You slurred, sleep clouding your head like a fog. “Ngh... wait.” You blinked rapidly, turning back to Lucifer. “What?”
He smirked. “Redemption of sinners?” He repeated, giving you a teasing look.
“Is it possible?!”
Lucifer inhaled. “I... don’t know. Maybe? I just like to support my daughter’s dreams.” He pauses. “Even if it’s a bit far-fetched, she believes in it.” Another huge pregnant pause. “If it does work, you won’t become a human, you’ll just be an angel.”
You turned away again. “Ugh.” 
He snorted, and fixed your blankets. “Goodnight,” He crooned, placing a small rubber duck on your dresser. “You have to wake up really early tomorrow!”
He cackled when you just groaned.
After a few days of living like this, Lucifer deemed you ready to meet his daughter. When you inquired why before you couldn’t he just muttered about some sinner that would rip you to shreds. You didn’t really understand, but he seemed to hate that one sinner with a passion, so your questioning didn’t continue past that.
He led you to a huge building that had the words Hazbin Hotel in big letters at the top. You glanced at the infrastructure, cringing at some of the design choices. It was surely unique, although you knew it definitely needed some sprucing up.
“It’s pretty,” Was all that came out of your mouth. Lucifer gave you a half-hearted noise of acknowledgement, ringing the bell. You heard light footsteps, and as soon as the door began to open, Lucifer burst past it.
“CHARLIE!”
“Hi dad...”
You shifted from foot to foot, waiting for them to see you. “Oh!” There they go. “Sorry, sorry! Uh- how are you? What’s your name?” Charlie began to babble, leading you inside with gentle hands. “I’m Charlie!”
Lucifer was right by your side again, causing you to stumble. “(Name),” You offered weakly, gaining your balance again as Lucifer began to chuckle lowly next to you. “I...”
“She’s with me,” Lucifer said smoothly, smirking. “I have a favor to ask of you, Char-Char.”
Her attention was instantly on her father, head cocked to the side barely, questioning.
“She... accidentally sold her soul to me.” He started off slowly, and Charlie gave him a weird look. 
“So? She shouldn’t be here unless you accept... Dad!” She yelled out at the end, and Lucifer winced. “How did you accidentally accept a soul??”
He groaned. “By accident, of course! Listen Charlie-”
“That poor girl-”
You looked back and forth tiredly, before clearing your throat. “What’s done is done,” You started, glaring at Lucifer lightly. “Besides, Luci has been helping me get accustomed to my new world. But we were hoping you knew how to redeem sinners so I can be redeemed.”
Charlie began to shift nervously. “Well- we don’t have a set method.”
You stared at her.
“We don’t have one sinner who’s been redeemed... yet.”
“Yet.” You parroted, giving her a blank look. 
She bit her lip lightly. “Yes, yet. I’m sorry (Name), we are only just starting and I know being in Hell was a mistake.”
You felt numb, and can only barely register how Lucifer had lifted you up, pulling you away and whispering apologies against you. “Sorry,” He murmured, and you let out a soft sigh due to his hand on your scalp. “I’m so sorry, I thought she would have found a way already...”
“No need to apologize,” You huffed, blinking away unshed tears as he calmed you down. You still felt extremely upset, but it wasn’t truly anyone's fault.
Lucifer gave you an apologetic look still, before putting you down. You looked around, blinking. “Where are we?”
“Guest room,” Lucifer replied, fixing the sheets as you gained your bearings. The couch was ratty, with small tears on the cushions; the back of it was dingy, yet when you moved, it stayed steady despite the obvious damages.
You got up, and he motioned to the bed, smiling at you gently. “Want to sleep? It’s getting a bit late already.”
Confused, you gave him an inquiring look. He smiled sheepishly, motioning to the clock. “It’s the evening, I think your perception is a bit skewed...”
Right, your outburst. “Sorry,” You said, feeling guilty.
Lucifer just waved you off. “Do you want to sleep?” He asked, and you shook your head, looking at the door.
“Is there a place to get a drink?” You just wanted to get drunk, if you were being honest.
He hummed. “There’s a bartender, apparently.” He replied, taking your hand into his. “Steady,” He spoke lowly, as you stumbled a bit, letting him lead you down the hall. 
You both made it to the bar, where you practically threw yourself at the stool, asking the bartender, apparently named Husk, to make you a strong drink.
He merely grunted in acknowledgment, turning away to start mixing it. Lucifer grinned toothily at you, before he turned around to go be with his daughter.
One drink turned into two, then into three, and before you knew it you were seven drinks in, and you were giggling with Angel, a patron at the hotel. 
“You’re really,” You paused, hiccuping due to how fast you drank your last shot. “Really interesting, Angel.” Your words were slurred, and almost hard to decipher. Angel, however, understood you completely considering he was also tremendously drunk. 
“Thank you, sweet thing.” He smirked, his gold tooth glittering in the light as he moved closer to you. He smelled like artificial fruits, and you wrinkled your nose in distaste, bile swirling right beneath your esophagus. “So, Short king is with ya?”
You nod, still fighting the urge to retch at the stench of his perfume. “Uhn, yeah, he is. I, uhm... made a deal with him, apparently,” You slurred, pausing almost every word you said. “Sorry, your perfume smells gross.”
Angel rolled his eyes, throwing two of his hands up. “Ugh! Val made me wear it for today’s shoot-” 
“Why?” You nearly whined, scooting backwards as Angel began to spray a different perfume. 
He sighed. “I work sex, babe.” When you cocked your head to the side, he began to rephrase his drunken words. “I’m a porn star.”
You flushed at that, and shrugged lightly. “Each to their own I guess...”
Humming, Angel brought another drink to his mouth, downing it in one go. “On the topic of sex,” He slurred, smirking as Lucifer slowly approached you two. “Who would you have sex with here? Based on appearance.” He hiccuped.
“Lucifer is super hot,” You giggled, biting your lip lightly as you stood up, swaying at your spot. “I wouldn’t mind having him fuck me, I need a good pound.” You dissolved into light giggles, finding the idea of fucking the ruler of Hell amusing, getting him worked up by a lowly sinner...
You yelped when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. “Don’t squirm,” Lucifer said lightly, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “I’m taking you to bed. You’re drunk.”
“I’m not,”
A laugh came from in front of you, and you glared at Angel as he smiled even wider, smug. “Bye, (Name). Remember to not gag-!”
His voice was cut off as light swarmed your vision. You shut your eyes tight, feeling your stomach roll in pain as your surroundings became the guest room. “Hngh,” You whined, collapsing onto the bed. “Mm, Luci...”
Lucifer stroked your head as you chugged the water he gave, before he ushered you to bed to sleep the liquor off.
Your eyes were shut the instant he had dropped your head back on the pillow.
When you awoke, your head instantly began to pound, before tapering off to a light throbbing. You blinked, and turned to look to the side where the warmth was radiating. “Hi,” Lucifer smiled at you, his expression sleepy as his wings stretched from his back. “You’re awake.”
“And hungover,” You groaned, rubbing at your temples.
You screeched when your wrists were pinned above your head, and Lucifer was on top of you, straddling your hips. In this position, with you staring up at him, he truly did look angelic. His hair was messy, strewed in different directions. The glow from the light on a dresser behind him illuminated certain visible parts of him to you, and it just gave him such an ethereal glow.
You sucked a breath in as he shifted, his wings spreading out from his back, and you could almost imagine that golden halo on top of his head right now.
“Do you want this?” He uttered, voice deep with sleep and slightly gravelly. Arousal bloomed in your abdomen as you nodded quickly. “Words, ducky.” 
“Yes.” You nearly whined, and he grinned, teeth all showing.
He practically pounced after that, ripping your bottoms off, and instantly his claws were at your underwear, shredding it with a flick of his wrist. Lucifer let out a growling noise as he leaned into you, thrusting a single finger into your awaiting cunt.
Slick was dripping down his hand after a few thrusts, messy and almost disgusting as wet slapping sounds quickly reverberated throughout the bedroom. 
“Dripping, all for me?” He teased, beginning to lightly rub your clit with his thumb as he nipped at your neck and chest. “I just need to put my claim on you.”
You moaned, shaking at his ministrations. “Bite me,” You whispered softly before you broke on a high pitch whimper. 
His teeth gleamed as he smirked at you, before surging forward to bite you right between your shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth digging deep into your skin before he pulled away.
You let out a sob at the pain, then a moan as he sped up with his fingers. “Sorry,” He said, guilt filling his voice slightly as he looked at you with lidded eyes. You weakly watch as he gently moves his other hand over the bleeding wound as the pain eased into slight numbing.
“I liked it,” You murmured, kissing him again, and biting his lip as you rolled your hips into his hand. 
He let out an indistinguishable noise, before he thrusted his hand deep in you, watching as you came all over his hand, liquid shooting all over his arm.
“Good?” He asked, kissing you softly, before pulling away, licking at his fingers that were soaked in your release.
You nod, smiling as he beamed lightly at you. Moving slightly, you pulled your legs up, leaving your cunt more exposed for him. “Take me, Luci.” You had whined, cunt fluttering at the thought of his cock in you.
Lucifer flushed, his cheeks becoming a darker ruddy color, as he took off his pants. His thick cock slapped his thigh, and both of you giggled at the noise. “Sorry,” He laughed lightly, but you just shook your head smiling.
“It’s okay to be a bit silly, Luci.” You had said quietly, breath hitching as he entered you.
Lucifer sank deep into your cunt, inhaling sharply as you squeezed him. You had yet to indicate you wanted him to move, inhaling and exhaling lightly as you eased up around him.
You nodded, but he still hadn’t moved. His face was extremely red as he stayed still, his breath labored. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving slightly as your cunt squeezed then relaxed around him. “Luci, are you o-”
Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled almost fully out, his flushed tip just barely stretching your cunt. You looked up at him as he shoved his cock inside again, slamming into you. “Mm- Lucifer-” You tried to speak, but he just kissed you, your tongues entwining as small noises of pleasure emitted from you.
He pulled away, panting as his hair became more messed up from his movements. “Want me to stop?” He paused, to see what you needed.
You growled lightly, wrapping your legs around his waist and bucking your hips. He let out a small yelp, grasping your hips in a bruising manner. “Okay!” He kissed you, and slammed into you again. “Okay, you want me that badly huh? My pretty baby. All wet and slick for m-”
He paused as he was pulling out when you let out a whimper. “Daddy,” You had said quietly, nearly inaudibly.
“What?”
You flushed this time, looking off to the side as you worried your lip between your teeth. “Sorry, I...”
Lucifer gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and when you snapped your head to look at him, he smirked, gently squeezing, before his grip became lax again. When you nodded, indicating you were okay with it, he grinned. 
“My girl, all wet for her daddy. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? When we fuck, ducky, you look at me. When I kiss you, you think about me. When I impregnate you, you look at me. Understood?”
You wailed in pleasure, cunt gripping his thick cock. “Yes daddy! I understand,” You blabbed, and you took a deep inhale right as Lucifer squeezed your neck.
“Do you even deserve to be fucked by me?” He asked, rubbing your clit lightly. As you began to teeter over the edge, he stopped all movements, looking at you. “I asked you a question.”
You heaved, gripping at his hand. “N-no,” You choked out, and he released his grip, kissing your neck. “Daddy,” You whimpered, watching as Lucifer pulled away to adjust your position. He had your lower half fully bent now, your knees nearly touching the bed as he grasped your waist, shoving his cock back inside you.
Screaming at the new found spot he hit, you began to earnestly moan, loud noises coming from your mouth as every thrust he made hit your sweet spot perfectly. “Ah- ah!” You bit your lip, causing it to bleed. Lucifer leaned in, sucking your lip into his mouth, before he caught your mouth in an open kiss, licking at your tongue.
“Good girl,” He purred, shoving his thick cock deeper and deeper inside you. “I’m going to make you into a mommy, do you want to be a mother? For me?” You felt your orgasm approach as you nodded, whimpering at the idea of your belly becoming swollen with a child.
He kissed you, and you bit his lip as you came, your legs shaking as you inhaled deeply, jerking at the aftershocks as Lucifer continued to thrust, pace off. Jackhammering into you for another moment, he stopped, his cock deep inside you as he groaned, cum coating your walls.
You felt gross, but he merely gently rubbed at the small bulging in your lower abdomen, sighing. “Good?” He inquired, kissing your cheek.
“Good,” You confirmed, beaming tiredly.
A month had passed, and you were chatting idly with Charlie.
“So,” You started, smiling lightly. “I have news.”
She grabbed your hands, eyes bright. “What is it? Oh! Did you find someone to stay at the hotel? Did you find some staff? Is there some news happening in Pentagram City? Wait! Let me guess, did a new restaurant open up-”
You laughed, calming her down as you smiled cheekily. “No, not any of that.” Pausing as Lucifer went up to sit by you. “Me and Luci,” You started, glancing at him. “Are expecting.”
Charlie froze. “Huh? Expecting what? A package?”
Lucifer grinned widely, as his daughter slowly began to understand. “You’re going to be a big sister, Char-Char!”
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toast-on-dandelioms · 3 months
Note
Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.
Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘
Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!
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Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.
He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.
He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.
And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.
You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.
He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.
After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.
And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.
So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.
Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.
And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.
He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.
Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.
Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.
You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.
You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.
Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.
You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.
But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.
During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.
Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.
Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.
As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.
You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.
The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.
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shurisneakers · 3 months
Text
unsolved (ii)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.
A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy
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Previous part || Series masterlist
Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything. 
The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt. 
All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime. 
He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality. 
But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable. 
The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open– 
There’s no one on the other side. 
Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.
Shoot day. See you at the studio!
He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order. 
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The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.
He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.  
He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in. 
“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”
Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state. 
“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”
“I have my ways.”
Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity. 
“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss. 
He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not. 
You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already. 
“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.   
“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.” 
Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do. 
He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him. 
He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied. 
“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked. 
You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”
Bucky’s eye twitches. 
“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest. 
You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”
Well. No.
“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”
Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way. 
“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.
“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”
Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’. 
But the sentiment is appreciated.
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The studio is moderately big. 
You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity. 
He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it. 
You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.
“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”
Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes. 
“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.
You stop talking to look at him.
“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation. 
If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.
“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”  
“Makeup?”
“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”
Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.  
“Just say it’s part of the theme.”
You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.” 
So Bucky gets his makeup done. 
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By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.
The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms. 
“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.
Bucky wants to scream.
“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.” 
You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’. 
 Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.
“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him. 
“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin. 
Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.” 
“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces. 
“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.” 
That sounds…doable. 
“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate. 
“Recording in three…two…one–”
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The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead. 
“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.  
Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.
You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned. 
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You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this. 
So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.
You kick him under the table. 
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The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t. 
At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.
You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”
Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”
Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you  had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you? 
Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”
“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”
Bitch.
“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”
“Where?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”
Bucky doesn’t add anything further. 
You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue. 
“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”
Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit. 
“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”
“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest. 
“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”
Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.  
“What?” you challenge.
“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”
You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless. 
“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.” 
Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening. 
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Your eyebrow twitches.
You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated. 
You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top. 
You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion. 
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You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.
Collectively, every spine in the room straightens. 
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“Asbestos?” you echo.
“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago. 
You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this. 
“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.” 
You stare at him. “You’re lying.”
He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.” 
“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”
“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.” 
“Hallucinations?”
“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”
“And the bite marks?” 
“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”
“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”
Bucky shrugs. 
You look like you’re going to lose your mind. 
You clear your throat. “What about the priest?
Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?” 
“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?” 
“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”
“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better. 
“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.
“You’re bullshitting.”
“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”
“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”
“Because the house was haunted.”
“By mold.”
Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch. 
You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers. 
“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”
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The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.
But he’s already gone. 
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The video goes up that weekend. 
It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out  the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.
To Barnes (Work):
are you ready for your influencer era
He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.
To Barnes (Work):
influenza
Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies. 
The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.
And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved. 
From unknown
Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.
Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name. 
From unknown
Just letting you know though– he was lying.
From unknown
He doesn’t have an aunt. 
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Motherfucker.
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
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Next part
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steventhusiast · 6 months
Text
STWG daily prompt 7/12/23 (i'm late to this)
prompt: black eye
pairing/character(s): steddie
this is part 2, read part 1 here
-
"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."
Eddie's words bring about a lopsided smile to Steve's face, and then his eyes drift back to being closed. He doesn't look like he's asleep, but he's definitely not all there. Distantly, Eddie wonders what good shit they've got Steve on for him to not be sobbing in pain at every movement right now. His black eye is.. difficult to look at.
Once again, Eddie wonders what the fuck happened in the past forty eight hours. He turns to Buckley.
"What happened?" He asks, and Robin narrows her eyes and looks ready to attempt to interrogate him again, so he's quick to continue, "I- I know you have questions, but for now can you just accept that I'm here because I care about him?"
He hopes she ignores the way he's still absently rubbing his thumb in a back-and-forth motion over Steve's arm. Hopes that for now she can dismiss the casual intimacy, and not question why Eddie's one of Steve's emergency contacts. Not while Steve lacks the therewithal to make a decision about coming out or not.
Still looking suspicious, she nods once, and casts a glance to the other side of the room, where the two younger kids are sat together. Eddie follows her gaze to see the young girl is asleep, head resting on Dustin's arm, and Dustin has his eyes resolutely on the door, like he's waiting for a monster to burst through it. He doesn't look fully there.
"We were just finishing the closing duties at work and," Robin starts, and then pauses like she's going over the details in her head, "and there was a late shipment we had to put away in the freezers, but then a fire broke out and we got trapped."
Buckley is a lot of things, but a good liar isn't one of them. Even if she was a good liar, Eddie knows things that make that one sound implausible. Steve hasn't been missing for just one night. It's been two nights. What the fuck happened before the fire? And that's not even considering the logistics of Steve's injuries and how they happened.
"Don't bullshit me." Eddie says quietly, looking down at Steve again, "That makes no sense and you know it. Are you seriously telling me a fire give Steve a black eye and a concussion? These kids just happened to be there?"
His words have Robin looking incredibly nervous, and Dustin straightens a little where he's sat, looking to be actively listening for the first time since Eddie entered the room.
"You have to shut up, man. I don't know who you are, but it. Was. Just. A. Fire." Dustin says, eyes determined, but scared.
"I'm Eddie." Eddie pauses, considering a new possibility that frightens him even more than Steve's injuries, "Did you guys.. Did you get threatened? Whoever did this," he gestures at Steve's face, "are they making you stay quiet? I can help you. I know people."
Dustin sighs and goes back to watching the door, the frightened look in his eyes becoming something haunted. Robin bites her lip, and Steve cracks open his good eye to look at Eddie, tears welling up.
"They w're- Eds, you gotta j'st- leave it be." He tells him, and a tear slips out and down his face, no doubt causing the scratches on his face to sting.
"Stevie. Please. Who hurt you?" Eddie whispers, tears blurring his vision now as he truly takes in his boyfriend. He feels helpless, and he can't even provide comfort the way he wants to because it might not be safe. He doesn't know Robin, not truly. And he doesn't know the kids at all.
Steve makes the decision for him, lifting one shaking, weak hand to clumsily wipe away a tear that's escaped.
"'s okay, Teddy. L've you." He says, and Eddie hates himself a bit. Because Steve's trying to comfort him while he's laying in a hospital bed. Eddie raises his hand to cover Steve's where it still rests on his cheek, supporting and holding it there.
"I love you too." He whispers back after a harsh sniffle, and hears Robin beside him making a noise of understanding.
"Oh, you're his- right." She mumbles to herself, shooting Steve a look to which he gives her a slight smile of confirmation. Eddie raises his eyebrows at the implication. Steve had come out to her?
"Yeah. And if you have a problem with it, well. Like I said, I know people." He tells her, putting on his best bitchy smile as he slowly puts Steve's hand back to rest on the bed. He ignores Steve's noise of complaint to keep eye contact with Robin. He hopes he's being intimidating.
"No need for all that. I know Dorothy too." Robin replies, and Eddie just nods. Feels a bit of the fear inside him deflate.
And then Dustin asks a question, and the little girl at his side rouses from her sleep.
"Who the fuck's Dorothy?"
"Mutual friend." Robin answers, tone clipped.
"Okay. I don't know what I've just woken up to. Who's this wannabe-goth nerd?" The little girl asks, voice full of sass as she raises an eyebrow at Eddie.
How she went from dead asleep to awake-enough-to-roast-him in five seconds, Eddie doesn't know. He narrows his eyes at the insult anyway.
"Eddie Munson. Metalhead extraordinaire, for your information. And you? What's an eight year old doing here?"
"Erica Sinclair. And I'm eleven, you long haired freak."
Eddie gapes at her, and distantly hears Steve giggle. For now, cautiously, he thinks that maybe things will be okay. Eventually.
-
some people asked to be tagged or replied about wanting a part two so i'm tagging: @djohawke @imyelenasexual @y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman @starxlark @f1inl3ey
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naomeii · 4 months
Note
Hello! Here's my request:
Modern au where Childe and reader get into a particularly heated argument because he always comes back bloody, battered and bruised from a fight. Unfortunately, Childe ends up telling her he liked it better when she was ignoring him instead of nagging all the time, which shatters her heart. He tries to apologize but she's already out the door and staying over at her mother's house. Even when her mother reassured her that Childe does love her, it did little to heal her heart.
On the other hand, Childe was in shambles. He kept on trying to call, email, and text her but she won't pick up. He was left alone at their shared house, the meal she made had gone cold but he still ate it and yet, he didn't feel full. He ends up crying himself to sleep on their entryway.
The next day, reader returns to their home with the intention of packing up her things and leaving but is stopped by an exhausted Childe who follows her even when she tells him not to touch her. He notices her missing engagement ring (she had left it in their bedroom) and is terrified; he begs her not to leave him while sobbing and holding her tight. Eventually, his pleas were heard when she finally forgives him after he apologizes for snapping at her.
Metamorphosis.
—Pairing: Childe x F!Reader
Content: Modern au, angst to fluff, arguments
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Childe's entrance into your shared apartment was marked by the tired shuffle of his boots against the floor. The faint odor of blood mixed with the antiseptic scent of a healing agent lingered in the air. He looked up, eyes shadowed with weariness, as you confronted him in the doorway.
"What happened to you this time, Childe?" Your voice was a mix of concern and frustration, and your eyes scanned his battered form with a mix of anger and worry. This had become a routine – him coming back battered and bruised, and you, waiting to pick up the pieces.
Childe sighed, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "It's part of the job, darling. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating."
Your jaw tightened at the dismissive response. "Part of the job doesn't mean you have to come back looking like you've been through a war every single time! Do you even care about how this affects me?"
Childe's tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of remorse. "I liked it better when you just ignored me, you know? Instead of nagging all the time."
As the weight of his words sank in, you couldn't help but recall the days when Childe was indeed all over you. His playful antics, the way he made you laugh until tears streamed down your face, and the warmth of his love enveloping you. It was a stark contrast to the current reality, where his flippant remark shattered the remnants of those precious moments.
"Childe, what happened to us?" The question slipped out, laced with a mixture of pain and confusion. "You used to care about us, about me."
He avoided your gaze, a hint of guilt crossing his features. "It's just the way things are now. We both knew my life was dangerous."
A bitter chuckle escaped you. "I knew, but I never thought you'd grow indifferent. I miss the Childe who used to come home to me, not this stranger who treats me like a burden."
His eyes softened, but it was too late. The damage had been done. You turned away, tears threatening to spill. "I can't do this, Childe. Not if it means losing myself in the process."
As Childe desperately reached out for your hand, the door swung open, as you quickly left.
"Wait, please!" Childe's voice cracked with desperation, but you were out the door, oblivious to his pleas.
In your tear-streaked haze, you hailed a cab, directing it to your mother's house. The city lights blurred as you tried to make sense of the shattered fragments of your relationship. The cab's interior provided a temporary sanctuary, shielding you from the unresolved emotions that lingered at the doorstep of your shared home.
Arriving at your mother's house, the front door creaked open before you could even knock. Concern etched across her face, your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her worry palpable.
"What happened, sweetheart?" she asked, guiding you inside.
Through choked sobs, you recounted the argument, the hurtful words, and the irreparable damage that had driven you away.
"Sweetheart, people say things they don't mean when emotions run high. Childe does love you; I'm sure of it. Relationships have their ups and downs, but love can overcome even the toughest moments."
Her words, meant to console, offered a lifeline in the storm of emotions. Yet, despite her reassurance, the ache in your heart persisted. The wounds were fresh, the echoes of Childe's indifferent words still reverberating within you.
"I know, Mom, but it just hurts so much," you whispered, tears welling up again.
She held you at arm's length, her gaze filled with concern. "Take your time, dear. Healing doesn't happen overnight. If he loves you, he'll realize the impact of his words and make amends."
On the other side, Childe's attempts to reach you knew no bounds. His phone buzzed with unanswered calls and texts, each message a desperate plea for forgiveness.
+𝟗𝟗 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐮𝐦 <𝟑 3:33 am Y/n, please, just pick up the phone. I'm so sorry. I never meant what I said. I love you more than anything. 4:32 am I'm an idiot, love. I messed up, and I need you to hear me out. Let's talk. Please. 4:45 am ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 (Hey, dummy. I know I screwed up. I didn't mean any of it. I miss you... Can we just talk?)
The echoes of your silence were deafening. Each attempt to reach you felt like shouting into the abyss, the void swallowing his words.
Returning to the shared house, the remnants of your presence lingered. The cold meal you had prepared sat untouched, a poignant reminder of a time when warmth filled the home. Childe mechanically picked at the food, each bite a tasteless reminder of the void that now enveloped him.
The once-familiar walls seemed to close in as he wandered through the silent rooms. The solitude amplified the weight of his regret, and a profound loneliness settled over him. Despite filling his stomach, an emptiness gnawed at his insides.
Tears welled up, and he crumpled to the entryway floor, the place where the love you both had built now reduced to a battleground of hurtful words. The cool surface provided little comfort as he cried himself into an exhausted slumber, the entryway serving as a painful witness to the wreckage of a love he feared might be irreparably broken.
As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you cautiously returned to your shared home. The air hung heavy with the residue of the previous night's turmoil. With a determined resolve, you planned to pack your things and spend some time with your mother until the wounds of the argument had a chance to heal.
The moment you stepped into the entryway, you noticed a disheveled Childe, still draped in the shadows of sleep. His eyes, red-rimmed from crying, widened in surprise at your presence.
"Y/n…" His voice wavered, a mix of regret and exhaustion lacing his words.
"I'm here to pack my things, Childe," you stated, avoiding eye contact.
His eyes pleaded with you, but you remained steadfast. "Please, love, let's talk. I need you to understand."
"No, Childe. We've said enough," you replied, your voice firm. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, but you were determined not to let it sway your decision.
As you began gathering your belongings, Childe, propelled by a mixture of desperation and a genuine desire to make amends, rose from the floor. He moved closer, his hand reaching out involuntarily.
"Don't touch me, Childe," you warned, your eyes flashing hurt.
Childe's heart sank as he continued to trail behind you, the weight of your silence pressing down on him. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and he winced at the palpable pain in your voice when you told him not to touch you.
His eyes were red and swollen from the tears that had stained the entryway floor the night before. Yet, a glimmer of hope flickered within him, fueled by the desperate need to salvage what was left of the love that once filled their home.
As he followed you through the house, his eyes caught sight of your left hand. The familiar glint of the engagement ring was conspicuously absent. Panic seized him as he realized its absence, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut.
"Y/n, where's the ring?" His voice trembled with a mix of fear and desperation.
You glanced at him briefly, the weight of your gaze heavy with unspoken words. "It's in the bedroom. I left it."
Childe's heart raced as he hurried to the bedroom, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. The room, once a sanctuary of shared dreams, felt haunted by the shadows of fractured promises.
He found the ring on the dresser, its absence from your finger a stark reminder of the fragility of the bond they had built. The intricate design, a symbol of their commitment, now seemed like a fragile artifact of a love slipping through his fingers.
Fear gripped him, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a tidal wave. He returned to find you near the front door, the distance between you growing wider with each passing moment.
"Y/n, I—I can fix this. I'll do whatever it takes. Please, don't go," he pleaded, the vulnerability in his voice bared for you to see.
As you moved towards the door, a determined resolve etched across your face, Childe's hand shot out, instinctively reaching for you. He caught your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. His eyes pleaded with yours, mirroring the desperate turmoil within him.
"Y/n, please, I beg you… don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking.
You paused, feeling the grip on your wrist, the pull of emotions warring within you. Childe's sobs echoed in the silent room, the raw vulnerability he displayed tearing down the walls you had erected around your wounded heart.
"Childe, you can't fix this with just words," you said, your own voice wavering with the weight of the situation.
His grip softened, fingers slipping from your wrist to intertwine with yours. "I know… I know, but let me try. I love you, and I can't bear the thought of losing you."
His tears fell freely, staining the floor beneath him. The vulnerability he exhibited, coupled with the sincerity in his eyes, created a tumultuous whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.
"I can't promise anything, Childe," you said, gently trying to disentangle your hand from his. "But I need time to think, away from this… chaos."
Childe, however, held on tighter, his sobs intensifying. "I messed up, Y/n. I don't want to lose you. Please, just stay. Let me try to make things right."
The conflicting emotions battled within you as Childe's sobs reverberated in the room. Despite the anger, hurt, and the shattered trust, a deep well of love still lingered within your heart. The sight of him crumbling before you, laid bare in vulnerability, tugged at those lingering threads of affection.
Taking a deep breath, you relented. Your free hand reached out, gently cupping Childe's tear-stained cheek. Your touch, though soft, held the weight of both love and reproach.
"Childe, stop crying," you whispered, your voice a delicate plea.
His tearful eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world outside their shared turmoil seemed to fade away. The touch of your hand, wiping away his tears, bridged the emotional chasm that had grown between you two.
"I love you, but this can't be fixed overnight," you admitted, your tone a delicate balance of firmness and compassion.
Childe nodded, his grip on your hand relaxing.
In the days that followed, the atmosphere in your shared home transformed. Childe, once a tempest of chaos and unpredictability, began to change. The realization of the pain he had caused you, coupled with the fear of losing the love he cherished, became a catalyst for a profound transformation.
His actions spoke louder than words. Childe started attending therapy, seeking guidance to navigate the complexities of his emotions and learn healthier ways to cope with the challenges that came with his role in the Fatui. The reckless impulsivity that once defined him began to give way to a more measured and thoughtful approach.
The wounds of the argument were still fresh, and trust needed time to mend, but Childe's commitment to change became evident in his actions. He took on a more active role in maintaining the home, shared responsibilities with newfound diligence, and made genuine efforts to communicate openly.
Gone were the days of recklessness overshadowing your relationship. Childe, now more attuned to your needs and the impact of his words, worked tirelessly to rebuild the connection that had weathered the storm.
While the scars of the past lingered, the metamorphosis within Childe created a sense of hope.
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