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leiawritesstories · 7 months

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Who Gave My Wife Liquor?

Rowaelin Month 2023, Day 20: Drunken Antics

y'all know i cannot resist this prompt 🤭🤭 so enjoy some fun drunken shenanigans involving the whole court of Terrasen plus Fenrys, Dorian, and some potentially bad decisions (but no angst i promise). fair warning: it's total crack, i honestly don't think it makes any sense, but it's (maybe) fun

also based off a prompt sent to @rowaelinprompts: "drunk and clingy Aelin" ;))

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, intoxication, silly goofy times

Enjoy!!!

@rowaelinscourt

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

Aelin was absolutely beaming as she descended the stairs and headed into the well-lit great room of the castle's private wing, where a fire was blazing merrily in the hearth and laughter spilled from the wide-open doors. Her heart was full twice over at the sound of her friends' laughter--they had all been through so much in the last ten years, and the fact that they could still laugh was a miracle in and of itself.

"You're late!" Dorian called, catching her arm and leading her into the informal party. "And about three drinks behind, Your Majesty." Grinning, his sapphire eyes just beginning to glaze over, he grabbed the nearest flask and poured her a cup, tapping his drink to hers. "Cheers!"

"And you have shit tolerance, Your Majesty," she teased, downing the short glass of wine in one go. Dorian rolled his eyes, and she laughed. "Lighten up, Dor. Not all of us have your youthful ability to recover." Dorian, as a human, had less tolerance than the Fae and the shifter and Elide, who could drink Lorcan under the table, but he also recovered rapidly from his hangovers.

"Again with the you're an old man jokes?" Lorcan clicked his tongue, smirking. "Wasn't it you who kept telling me to get creative?"

"That would be your wife, actually." Aelin raised her refilled cup to the hulking, dark-haired male, whose face flushed bright scarlet at her innuendo.

"Galathynius," he grunted, tipping the contents of his glass down his throat.

"Don't be so put off, darling," Elide soothed her husband. "Aelin's just grumpy because you made me scream so loud last night we woke the whole castle up."

"And I'll do it again tonight," he winked.

Fenrys spewed wine all over himself. "Fucking gods!" he shrieked, pretending to be mortified. "You lot and your insatiable se--"

"You're just as bad, Fenny," Aelin smirked. "Or should I say, good boy?"

The normally roguish blonde blushed bright crimson and said nothing, choosing to grab the nearest ounce glass of liquor and tip it down his throat. "How?!" he demanded, both mortified and genuinely curious to discover how Aelin had heard that little pet name.

She beamed innocently and threw back a shot of her own. "That's for me to know and you--and your pretty boy--to find out."

"Pretty boy?" Lysandra wheezed, slinging her arm around Aelin's shoulders. "Holy rutting gods, Fen, I knew you weren't particular in bed, but I never would have guessed you'd want to be the one taking orders."

Dorian was conspicuously silent.

Observant as ever, Aelin turned towards the young king, a smile so friendly and approachable that it was truly terrifying slipping across her face. "Dor, darling."

"Oh fuck," he muttered.

"Have you been satisfied with Lord Moonbeam's visits to your kingdom?" The enquiry was perfectly polite, even diplomatic, but the smirk on Aelin's lips added a twist to the innocent words.

Dorian picked up the closest flask and drained it.

Fenrys snickered. "Don't be shy, Majesty. We won't--ah!" His teasing was abruptly cut off with a soft yelp. Dorian flicked the blonde Fae a look heated enough to boil water.

Aelin had a very good idea just what (phantom) hands had silenced Fenrys before he could make an incredibly ribald remark. "I see."

"For a queen so revered, Ae, you have no propriety," Aedion fake-sighed, reaching across his cousin to grab the glass bottle of whiskey that had definitely come from the back of the cellar.

"Says the one who cavorted his merry way through the mountains," she retorted, passing her glass to be filled. "Say, how is Kyllian doing these days?"

"He's fine," Aedion said, too quickly.

Lysandra grinned and curled herself close to Aedion's side, whispering something into his ear that made him choke on his mouthful of whiskey and splutter the aged liquor all over his shirt.

She cackled, tears of merriment spilling out of her bright green eyes. "There's no need to worry, Aed. We're all friends here, no?"

"How sweet," Elide crooned. She pinched her husband's cheek. "See, Lor? We're all friends."

"Lorcan doesn't have friends," Rowan said, completely deadpan. He'd been lounging in a comfortable armchair, admiring his wife and sipping on his glass of liquor like the civilized old male he was.

Lorcan snorted. "Fuck you."

"Let's keep the past in the past, shall we?" Rowan smirked over the rim of his glass.

For the second time that night, Lorcan's tan face flushed violently red, and the room exploded into laughter.

"I knew it!" Aelin cried triumphantly, pointing at Lorcan. "I knew you and my buzzard were lovers!"

"Best he's ever had," Lorcan mumbled, barely audible.

Elide gasped for breath through her peals of laughter, clutching at her chest and clinging to Lorcan's broad shoulder for support. "We need to get you drunk more often, love," she wheezed.

"The hell you do," he grumbled. "That sounds like a terrible idea."

"I have a GREAT idea!" Fenrys announced, rising unsteadily to his feet and brandishing his bottle of wine.

"You absolutely do not," absolutely everyone else chorused.

"First of all, that'sh' fuckin' rude!" He pretended to pout. "An' shecon'ly, it's a great idea!" He took a long drink from the bottle and pointed right at Lorcan. "Lorky, I dare you."

"You dare me to what, Moonie?" Lorcan shot the younger male an insolent smirk.

Fenrys beamed, which was both hilarious and terrifying. "Clothes off, an' pose as a sh-sht-stashue for three minutes."

"Fine." Lorcan drained the rest of his drink, stood up, shucked his clothes except for his undershorts, and strolled out into the hall. The others followed him, laughing and playfully ogling.

Elide wolf-whistled. "Don't be shy, Lor, pose like one of the ancient sculptures." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Most of us have seen you naked, you know."

Lorcan sighed, and Aelin swore she heard him mutter something about so much for keeping secrets under his breath. "I'm not drunk enough for that, Li."

"Pity," Aelin snickered. "You'd make such a well-endowed sculpture."

"Careful, Rowan," Lorcan drawled. "Your wife's objectifying other males again."

"Who gave my wife liquor?" Rowan called, laughing. "She only does that when she's drunk."

"You're mean," Aelin teased, frowning theatrically at her grumpy buzzard.

"Thought you liked me mean," he murmured, the words a wicked promise that set her blood alight. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and laid his hand against the curve of her ass, squeezing just enough to make her inhale.

"No!" Aedion yelped, throwing his hands over his face. "Shit, I'm standing right here!"

Lysandra doubled over with laughter, throwing a wink over at Aelin. "Look what you've done to your poor innocent little cousin," she giggled, unable to get all the words out without losing her grip on her merriment.

Aelin snorted. "Lys, if Aedy is innocent, then I'm a virgin priestess."

Lys wiped tears from her eyes. "All right, you--is Fenrys naked?"

Yes. Yes he was.

Completely undressed, Fenrys sprinted down the hall and back, grinning like a schoolboy when he reached the others again. "I didn't fall over!" he crowed, exuberant.

"Didn't stand up, either," Aelin muttered, half to herself.

Rowan coughed, a deep laugh billowing out of his chest. "Give him some slack, Fireheart," he laughed. "Moonie here is a little too drunk to perform as quickly as he usually does."

Fenrys shrieked in protest. "I perform longly!"

"Tha'sh'not a word, Fen," Dorian drawled, his words slurring together.

"Neither is anything the two of you are about to say to each other," Rowan whispered into Aelin's ear.

She around and pressed her face into his chest to stifle the fit of laughter that made her whole body shake. "You and your godsdamn impeccable timing," she gasped once she'd regained her breath.

Her husband winked. "I try."

Slowly, their dear friends began to disperse, first Fenrys and Dorian, the two leaning on each other for support but still staggering, then Elide and Lorcan, and finally Aedion and Lysandra. Aelin looked around the room at the empty glasses and bottles and flasks left on tables and couches. "Should we--"

"Later." Without blinking, Rowan swept her up into his arms. "Right now, you need to go to bed."

"Is that a promise, buzzard?" She looped her arms effortlessly around his neck, lowered her lashes, and smiled lazily up at him, sending a hazy image of slick skin and dancing flames into his mind.

He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. "Don't tease me, princess." His voice dropped to a thick rumble, the way it always did when she'd pushed just the right buttons. In a blur of Fae speed, he whisked them upstairs to their rooms, kicked the door shut, and laid her gently on the bed.

And she promptly fell asleep.

Chuckling softly, Rowan slipped Aelin's shoes off, changed into his nightclothes, splashed some water on his face, and slipped into bed, curling himself around her. She sighed and went boneless against him, her breaths deep and rhythmic. In moments, he was asleep as well, following his queen into dreams as he did every night.

~~~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added/removed :)

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

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All Hers (Leonora Lesso x Reader)

Synopsis: You garner some unwanted attention

Words: 2k

Warnings: possessiveness

You hated the staff mixers Dovey had insisted on since the schools had united. You had nothing to say to the members of staff in your own school, let alone the do gooders from the other side. There was only so much insipidly vapid talk you could take before you wanted to scream. Or explode. Or cause someone else to explode. That might be a good diversion.

Your eyes swept over the room as you brought your goblet of wine to your lips. Only another half hour and then you could make your excuses and leave. You could manage half an hour lurking in your shadowy corner out of the way. It didn’t have to be torture.

Across the room Lesso was doing the same. Dovey, at her elbow, was chattering away with Anemone while her firm hand on Lesso’s shoulder kept her in place. Clearly you weren’t the only one looking to escape.

It made you smile, until her eyes snapped to you. You felt your cheeks heat under gaze. Despite working in the same school together for years, you’d never grown used to the presence of the Dean. Breathtakingly beautiful and endlessly evil, you’d been enamoured with her since your first meeting. You’d tried your best to keep that secret but sometimes you thought she might know. The curve of a smile, the looks, sometimes the brush of fingers across the back of your hand. If she was toying with you, she was doing it well.

Her gaze swept over your form and you had to fight back against the urge to cover your body. It’s not as if you didn’t wear something similar every day. Showing so much skin was hardly unusual on your side of the bridge but there was something about her that made it feel like it was indecent. Perhaps it was the way her eyes seemed to linger.

She raised her glass of amber liquid to you before turning her attention back to whatever it was Dovey was saying. Her lips curled up and her nose wrinkled. You hid your smile in your goblet, not wanting anyone to see.

“I’m glad to see there’s some amusement here.”

You startled, turning towards the voice that had interrupted your thoughts. Standing just a half step too close, one of the princes from the other school was smiling down on you, bright white teeth catching the light from the chandelier. Dark hair curled just in front of piercing blue eyes and you had to fight against the impulse to step back. Not that you had anywhere to step to. There was nothing but a wall behind your back.

“Dovey seems to be enjoying yourself,” you said, nodding towards the clustered group but not quite able to bring yourself to look back over. The last thing you wanted was to find yourself staring at Lesso while under observation.

“I think that’s just Clarissa’s nature,” he replied, “do you need a refill?”

He gestured to take your goblet but you clutched it closer to your chest. You noticed the way his eyes dipped, getting stuck for a moment before offering you another smile. Your eyes darted away from him, wondering if you could slip past him. Manley wasn’t too far away. Surely you could converse with him for a few minutes until this prince left you alone.

“You’re always alone at these things,” he said, capturing your attention again, “I’ve always wondered why.”

“Not really my thing,” you replied, hoping he’d get the message.

“No, nor mine,” he said, that bright smile still in place, “perhaps we could be alone together from now on?”

You had to stop yourself from physically reacting to the suggestion. This prince was not picking up on the cues you were leaving him, and you knew you’d be in serious trouble if you hexed him. You looked away again.

Manley was drifting away from you, your last chance of rescue leaving. You swallowed past the rising annoyance, just wanting to be left alone.

“If we’re together then we can’t be alone,” you eventually said in response.

“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled, “so perhaps we can just be together then.”

“If you’ve been watching me then you know that isn’t my preference,” you replied.

“I was hoping you’d make an exception for me.”

You were growing tired of him flashing that handsome smile at you. It was making your insides squirm and not in the nice way, but in the way that led to you punching him in the face. A black eye would really bring out those baby blues.

“Hello, pet.”

A warm arm wrapped around your waist, a soft body pressing to your side. You looked up into startling eyes, lips falling open. Fingers pinched your hip, making you jump. The curve of her lips was addicting, even if it was at your expense.

“Lady Lesso, I-“ you began.

“No need to be so formal, pet. After all, we’re amongst friends.” Her nose wrinkled on the final word and you had to bite back a laugh.

She drew you more firmly against her side, cane tipping your chin up as she stared down at you. Her eyes flickered down to your lips then back up, something predatory entering her gaze.

“Who’s this?” she asked, turning to look at the prince.

He offered a short bow but something in his face had changed. Where he’d been trying for charming and affable with you, now he looked a touch ill. The smile was gone, as was the twinkle in his eye. His eyes kept darting down to the hand on your hip and back up, almost embarrassed at the sight.

“No one important,” you replied, enjoying the way he flinched.

“Then why is it talking to you?” she asked, her gaze darkening.

“No clue,” you replied, “he never said.”

He began to stutter out a response before she held up her hand, silencing him. She turned to look down at you, eyes sweeping over you again before she lent forward. A kiss bestowed on you shouldn’t have had your knees trembling like you were an Ever student, but you couldn’t help the reaction you had to her. It was surprisingly soft, but intense, as if she was holding herself back from devouring you then and there. You sighed into her mouth, wishing she would devour you.

“Come, pet,” she said when she drew back, eyes dark but voice darker, “it’s time for us to leave.”

“Of course.”

You didn’t offer a backwards glance at the stunned prince as she guided you out of the room with her hand still firmly on your hip. There was no question in you about where you were going, knowing you were wound so tightly around her little finger you’d go anywhere she wanted. Even if that was straight into hell.

Her office was not where you were expecting her to take you. She threw you through the door, slamming it behind her. Your eyes followed her movement as she rounded the desk, taking a seat behind it. Legs spread, one hand resting on the head of her cane, the other holding her chin as her eyes swept over your body, you shivered. You bit down on your lower lip, watching her eyes darken, feeling a thrill under her gaze.

“Come here, pet,” she said.

“What?”

“Come. Here.”

You weren’t about to argue, not when there was a dangerous note in her voice. On light feet you made your way over to her. Her hand snapped out, pulling you onto her lap with a strong tug. You squeaked, landing on her parted thighs, hands on her shoulders. She lent forward, resting the cane against her desk, body brushing against yours again, still making you breathless. Her arm rested around your waist, her other hand landing on your thigh. Her touch was addictive. You hadn’t really known that until now.

“That prince,” she sneered, “he was interested in you.”

“I don’t know why,” you said, shaking your head.

“Clearly because he saw exactly how tempting you are,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You think I’m tempting?”

Her nose ran along your jawline and you stilled. This felt like a dream. It wouldn’t be the first you’d had like this. Her other hand began to shift up your leg.

“Entirely too tempting for your own good,” she murmured.

Her lips pressed to the soft spot behind your jaw, making your breath catch. Your fingers tightened on her shoulders and a small noise passed through parted lips. Her low chuckle filled the room and she drew back.

“Although now everyone will know you’re mine,” she hummed, “only I’m allowed to play with you. Isn’t that right, pet?”

“Yes,” you answered, too fast. Her eyes brightened and her lips curled up in a smile.

“And you’ve been so good waiting for me, haven’t you?” she asked, “all these years of watching but never touching. Yes, you’ve been very good for me.”

You tried to swallow, finding your mouth dry. It was like she knew, the way she looked at you. You couldn’t say anything as her lips found that same spot behind your jaw, tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You made a small keening noise, wanting more. You were sure you’d never have enough of her, even if she kept teasing you for eternity.

“Although, knowing how stupid those princes are, perhaps I need to make it clearer,” she murmured into your skin.

Lips pressing to your pulse point, you couldn’t help the way you gasped as she began to suck. Without your permission you fingers buried themselves in her wild mane of hair, holding her close, never wanting her to stop. Your head tipped back, wanting to give her as much access as possible, wanting her to show the world you belonged to her. She was all there was for you. She was all there ever would be.

“Well, don’t you look wonderful with my bruises on your skin,” she said when she finally drew back.

You felt breathless with want. No one had ever made your head spin like that, had ever made you question your sanity the way she was. The way she looked at you was intoxicating, like she’d never seen something she desired more. Your fingers still in her hair, you tugged her forward until your lips met.

Her kiss was less soft this time, more intense, and devouring seemed to be on the table. You whined into her mouth, kissing her with all the intensity you’d ever felt, every fantasy fuelling the way you pressed against her. She was making you dizzy, and she was making you tremble, and she was making you incredibly hot all you could think about was the need thrumming through your veins. A need only she could sate.

She kissed you like she’d been holding herself back for the last few years and finally she’d been given permission to have you. Not that she struck as someone who waited for permission. She usually took what she wanted.

You wanted her to take you.

“Anyone who tries to have you now will have me to deal with,” she growled when she finally pulled away.

“I’m all yours,” you said, “only yours.”

She kissed you again with all the ferocity you knew she had, making sure you knew exactly who owned you mind, body, and soul. You couldn’t complain. She’d always been the only one you wanted. The only one you’d ever want.

The next week at the staff mixer, the prince flushed when he saw the bruises on your neck and the arm around your waist.

#lady lesso imagine #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso imagine

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its-complicateed · 6 months

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Full, Fuller, Fullest

Part 3: Fullest

The ride back to Andy's house seemed to take forever. In the passenger seat, Sammie was laying back, engorged tummy bulging into the air. Even though her shorts were unbuttoned, Andy could see they were still tight around her massive belly. Every bump they hit caused her to moan then, belch.

The bottle of wine sloshing about in her tummy had been absorbed by all the food, so she wasn't as drunk and hiccupy as she had been.

Though, that made the few hiccups that popped out of her mouth even hotter because Andy knew it was her full belly that was causing them.

At long last, they reached Andy's apartment. He hurried around to the passenger side and opened the door. When he pulled Sammie into an upright seated position, it compressed her belly and she burped loudly.

"Oof—URRRRRP—oh Andy...oh my belly...oohhhuuuuuurp...I'm so full..." she groaned as Andy pulled her to her feet.

Her wrapped one arm around her waist and began to lead her into the building. "Let's play a game," he whispered. "Every person who asks if your pregnant means more tummy rubs for you."

"Huuurp...how will they know to—URP—ask?" Sammie grunted.

"Easy," Andy replied, "You're going to play it up. You're not full, you're heavily pregnant. I'll be your doting husband." He patted her tummy then stepped aside. Sammie staggered but quickly took up her part. She put one hand on her tummy and the other on her back. She waddled—though she wasn't playing up the waddle at all—into his apartment building.

She stopped at the elevator and stroked a gentle hand down her tummy. The woman next to her looked over and smiled. Sammie smiled back, giving her tummy another rub. The woman didn't say anything, however.

Andy grinned to himself as Sammie began to play it up even more. The next person to enter the elevator was an elderly woman. Sammie puffed her belly out and arched her back even more. Andy could see a bit of sweat on her temple and decided to help.

He patted her belly gently, and asked, "Doing okay, dear?"

Before Sammie could reply, the older woman asked, "First baby?"

Sammie nodded, her smile relieved.

Without another word, the woman stepped over and began feeling Sammie's belly. "Ooh carrying high I see." She squeezed Sammie's sides and then thumped her upper belly. "Definitely a boy." She smiled at them proudly then stepped out when the elevator reached her floor.

As soon as she was gone, Sammie let out an enormous belch, one she tried to cut off when a couple stepped onto the elevator.

They gave her a disapproving look, but when one of the men noticed her bulging belly, he smiled. "How far along are you?"

"Six months," Sammie managed.

The other man reached out a hand and patted her tummy. "Congratulations," he said, "you look wonderful."

The next stop was Andy's floor and he guided his stuffed date out of the elevator and straight to his apartment.

She collapsed, belly up on the couch, moaning and belching uncontrollably.

Andy headed straight to the kitchen and brought back a bottle of Port and two small glasses.

"A toast to a successful dinner!" He cried.

He pulled Sammie into a sitting position and put a glass in her hand. He clicked his against hers then drained it.

Sammie was just staring at the glass, one hand fruitlessly rubbing her swollen stomach.

"Just one little drink" Andy murmured. Then he brought the glass to her lips and with a push tipped her head back. She was forced to swallow or get port poured all over her.

She moaned while Andy refilled the glasses. "Good stuff huh?" He said, purposely misinterpreting her moan.

"I—HUUUOOOOORP—" Sammie began, but Andy put another glass in her hand and when her burp was done, pushed it into her mouth.

He sat next to her and began to massage her tummy, and kept handing her glass after glass of port. When she tried to refuse the alcohol, he stopped rubbing her belly.

She was enjoying this though, he could tell. The way she squirmed on the couch and the way she only pretended to resist the next glass.

He got 2/3 of the bottle into her before deciding she was full enough. He helped her to her feet and she staggered belly-first into his bedroom.

When she flopped down onto the bed, he helped her pull off her shorts. He then began to kiss his way up her turgid tummy. She moaned at each kiss, and gasped when he slipped his tongue inside her belly button.

"Feels good, huh." He whispered

"Oooh...Andy....hic don't hic stop." She panted.

He continued kissing his way up her tummy, praising her and her appetite the whole time. She moaned and belched and hiccuped, gasping with desire the whole time.

He made his way back down to her tender belly button and began kissing and licking it in earnest. "So full," he murmured between kisses. "Such a full tummy. You did so good for me, Sammie. You ate so much."

She bucked beneath him, whining between the moans and burps.

"Andy—Urrrrrp—oh please, ple—UUURP—please...hic....ohhhh."

Her belly bulged so high that while Andy was kissing his way down from her belly button, he couldn't see any of her, just her stuffed tummy rising above him like the moon.

"Flip over," he said huskily.

Sammie struggled to and finally came to her hands and knees. Her back was arched and her belly almost touched the covers of the bed.

Andy slapped it gently and shook it back and forth, mesmerized with how little it jiggled. "Oh fuck, Sammie, you're so full and tight."

Sammie just moaned, too full, and turned on for words.

"Here," Andy whispered. "Let me make you feel good. Let me fill you up even further."

#belly kink #stuffing #intox belly #preggo kink #fake pregnancy #tw intox #bellies #stuffed belly #stuffing kink #kink fic #my writing #stuffing fic #full fuller fullest #part 3 #so sorry this took so long!!#i hope you all enjoy

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kasdan · 6 months

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hey!! can I request a frank castle x fem!reader, where the reader is a vigilante too and they run into each other for the first time and frank is all intrigued and stuff. you can decide how this goes!!! thank you <3

Safe Haven

marvel masterlist

a/n: ty for requesting anon<33 this was written while i was sick so my mind was really spacey so i apologize if anything seems off. i also had no idea how to end it so maybe i do a pt 2??😭

pairing: frank castle x vigilante!fem!reader

warnings: drink spiking (not to reader), douchebag men, injury, frank’s a little tease, no use of y/n, not proofread

word count: 2.4k

I sat on the edge of the rooftop, eyes scanning the streets below, following the moves of my next target. He moved in a swift overly confident manner, like he wasn’t late for a date by over an hour.

I’d had to endure watching his date sitting patiently waiting for him since she sat down an hour ago, turning down the waitress every time she came over to ask if she was ready to order. She looked to be almost about to leave the restaurant multiple times before she thought against it and continued to wait. She looked like she was about to just give up before the man she was waiting for strolled through the doors of the restaurant and sat down across her, barely saying anything before opening the menu in front of him.

The woman’s face lit up when she finally saw that she wasn’t alone anymore and started enthusiastically talking to him as he continued to look over the menu paying no attention to what the person sitting across from him is saying.

He kept pouring more wine in her glass and when she shook her head at him for no more, he continued to do so with water instead, while barely sipping his own drink. I knew what he was doing, and it was confirmed when she suddenly excused herself to go towards the restroom in the back of the restaurant.

He called the waitress over for a refill in the glass that she didn’t even drink half of, shamelessly flirting with her while she did so, and waited until she walked away before reaching into his jacket to quickly put something into her drink. My hand gripped the side of the building, fighting everything in me to just charge into the restaurant and throw him through the first window I saw. I hated it, but I had to be patient.

I watched as the woman goes back and sits down at the table, her glass closer to her hand from the man across from her pushing it closer to where she could reach it easier, and it seemed it worked when she reached over to quickly take a sip almost instinctively. I knew it would only cause a few minutes for whatever he put in the drink to kick in, and I went to swiftly make my way off of the rooftop.

I got down to the ground in record time, using the shadows to conceal me so no one even realized I was there. I waited against the wall of the alleyway next to the restaurant, knowing he would use the darkness of it to try and hide what was going on.

I waited a few minutes before I could hear the shuffle of feet on the concrete from people walking into the entrance to the alley. I knew it was him. I could hear his whispering from where I stood and it made my skin crawl.

I didn’t wait any longer to jump out from my place and pry him away from the off balance woman, causing him to hit the wall on the opposite side. I quickly made sure that she didn’t fall to the ground before I direct my focus back on the man that was still recovering from the impact.

“What the-“ I didn’t give him any room to say anything before I kicked his chest back into the wall, forcing his head to clash into the brick. His body fell to the ground and I didn’t care to look to see if he was still alive, my sole focus being on the shaking woman on the ground in front of me.

“Do you have a phone?” I asked her and she attempted to reach her pocket, but ended up only grazing over the pocket it was in. “I’m going to grab it okay?” She barely nodded, bleary eyes struggling to stay open and I reached into her pocket to pull out her phone.

I dialed 911, placing the phone in her lap before standing back up. “Help will be here soon.” I reassured her and made my way out of the alley, knowing the man wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, if he could at all. I worked my way up to a rooftop to sit and wait for the ambulance to get there, just to be safe.

The ambulance got there in record time, and I watched as they helped the woman out of the alley, and rolled the man out on a stretcher. I let out a breathy sigh before making my way back to my apartment, job done for the night.

A week later and I was back to staking out another target. However, I felt an off feeling all day that I couldn’t seem to place. I brushed it off as nothing in order to focus on the person I was tracking.

I found myself sitting on the rooftop of an abandoned building, this time in a more secluded area. Watching my target for the evening, it seemed he was waiting on the other woman to show up, and he didn’t like the waiting.

I heard a noise behind me causing me to whip my body around to face it, hand reaching for one of the throwing knives on my hip. I squinted through the darkness, but didn’t see anything and I didn’t have the time to turn my attention elsewhere for the time being.

Looking back towards the building, I found the man standing up angrily from the table he was at, heading towards the exit of the building. I hesitated slightly in going down there when I haven’t seen him actually spike anything firsthand, but my research had never been wrong before and I had no reason not to trust it.

I quickly made my way down from the rooftop not wasting any more time so I could intersect the man before he could leave. It was a good thing that the area I was in was more secluded with no one on the streets when I had to yank the man into the alley from the sidewalk he was angrily stomping on.

He definitely wasn’t expecting to be dragged into the alley out of nowhere and immediately started to claw at my arms that had a hold on him. His was significantly larger than I was, which made it more difficult for me to try and get a full grip on him, but I still managed to hang onto him.

However, I seem to underestimate the strength of him when he managed to push me off of him, causing me to crash to the ground on my back. I didn’t have time to think about the pain going down my spine when I had to roll to the side to dodge the heavy boot that hit the ground with a thud next to my head.

I took this as my opportunity to swipe my feet under his legs, making him lose balance and fall to the ground next to me. I quickly flip up to lean over him, knee digging into his throat in an attempt to get him to pass out quickly.

He struggled under me and I pressed my knee harder into his neck making it harder for him to breathe, and I think that he finally passed out before I felt a sharp pain connect to the outside of my thigh and I cry out, releasing the hold I had on him. I looked down to see the handle of a knife sticking out of the material of the suit I wore.

The man under me used the distraction to push me off of him and work his way up to his feet, swaying slightly as he did so. He marched over to where my body was, towering over me and I used all the strength I had left in order to use the leg without the knife in it to kick him backwards from me, attempting to give me more time.

The kick did little to deter him and he was stomping back over to me, face angrier than ever, and my mind was scrambling on what to do when a gun shot sounded in the air and the man in front of me stumbled, blood dripping from the bullet hole in his forehead, and he fell backwards onto the ground.

I pushed my body up to a seated position staring at the lifeless body in front of me before my gaze shot up to the rooftop on where the shot came from; the same rooftop I had come from minutes before.

I saw slight movement coming from the roof and I pushed myself off the ground, wincing slightly from moving the knife still lodged in my thigh. I forced myself to ignore the pain and moved as quickly as I could back to the rooftop I was once on.

I made it back to the roof in record time, considering the predicament I was in, and made my way towards the edge where I saw the movement from. I looked around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary or any more movement in the darkness of the rooftop.

There was only one way up and down the roof I was on, unless you jump down onto the stairs for the fire escape, but you would need extreme agility to jump on them to not make any noise, and I passed no one on stairs going up. Someone should have still been on the roof, how could I have missed them?

“Y’know I was kinda hopin’ you would come back up here.” A voice sounded behind me and I quickly turned my body towards the sound of the noise.

A shadowed figure stood leaning against the door that leaded to the roof, and my hand went to move for one of the knives on my hip before I thought against it, my body not sensing like I was in immediate danger at the moment.

The guy seemed to notice this before a chuckle left his mouth. “One of those woulda come in handy when you were getting your ass handed to ya wouldn’t it?” Two sentences in and I could tell this guy was an enormous tease.

“I was not getting my ass handed to me, I had it under control.”

“Was this before or after you got a knife jabbed into you?” I was rendered speechless for a moment before I let out a small scoff and couldn’t help my mouth twitch up in amusement.

“Wha- okay, who are you?” He pushed himself off the door and started to walk towards me, face looking extremely familiar as soon as he stepped more into the light. It didn’t click until he stood directly in front of me, arm outstretched for a handshake.

“Frank Castle.” I finally understood where I’ve seen him before, Frank Castle, The Punisher, his trial was all over the news you’d have to be living under a rock to not who he was living in New York.

“Didn’t think I’d be talking to a dead man when I woke up today.” I took his hand shaking it quickly before dropping it and he chuckled, looking at the ground head shaking. He ignored the statement, eyes instead trained on my leg.

“Need to get that out.” I looked down to where he was looking at the knife that still remained stuck inside my thigh.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Afraid it’s non negotiable c’mon.” He turned from me starting to walk towards the door to the exit of the roof.

“And I’m just supposed to follow some stranger?” I called out after him and he stops holding the door open.

“Well it’s either that or you pass out from the blood loss after taking the knife out and then bleed out on your own.” I part of me knew he was right, I probably wouldn’t have time to stop all the bleeding before I got dizzy from the blood loss, so I begrudgingly followed him through the door.

Apparently his apartment wasn’t that far away from where we were when we stop outside the building after a two minute car ride.

I’m able to get out of the vehicle without much pain, adrenaline still running largely in my veins, even though I don’t think Frank’s going to be a threat, my body still wanted to be prepared for anything.

He lead me into the small bathroom he had in his apartment, getting out a first aid kit from under the sink. “Probably gonna have to cut this off.” He motions to my pants, holding a pair of scissors and I regretted wearing a one piece suit in that moment. “Here,” he handed me a shirt that was sitting on the edge of the sink, giving me an opportunity to take the top of the suit off while he leaves the bathroom in order to try and give me some privacy.

I unzipped the suit working my arms out of the sleeves and pushed it down as far as I could without bumping the knife. I put the shirt over my head and tried to cut the rest of the suit off, but I finally felt the loss of blood kick in and started to get dizzy and not have the strength to continue to cut the thick fabric.

I called Frank back into the bathroom and he rushed in, hearing the change in my voice. “You alright?” He shut the door behind him as he walked further into the bathroom.

I just nodded my head, resting it on the wall next to me, and putting the scissors on the edge of the sink. “I just-” I took a minute to catch my breath. “I can’t cut it off.”

Frank nodded and bent down in front of me, grabbing the scissors to cut off the rest of the suit. At that point my vision started to blur and I relied on the wall next to me to keep my head held up as much as it was.

I could hear Frank saying something, but my brain made it all muffled so I wasn’t able to comprehend anything. I felt my body jolt when the knife was suddenly removed from my skin, hearing more muffled sounds from Frank after it happened.

Before I knew it, I was being lifted up and leaned against Frank as he brought me into the bedroom setting me on the bed. I tried opening my mouth to protest and tell him to just put me on the couch, but I don’t think I was able to get anything out but quiet mumbles.

I felt warmth encompass me and eventually gave into the darkness threatening to surround me since I’ve gotten into the bathroom, weirdly feeling content in a complete strangers bed.

buy me a coffee ♡

#this ending absolutely sucks im sorry #i might make a part two #i was so sick while writing half of this #frank castle #frank castle x reader #marvel #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #punisher x reader #the punisher #frank castle x you #jon bernthal #punisher

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Last Resort

John Wick & GN!Reader

For Day 13 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: support / "I think I need to sit down"

Warnings: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, blood/injuries

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: My first ever John Wick fic! I have no idea where this idea came from but I couldn't not put it down on paper once it hit me. Hope you enjoy!

John Wick Taglist: @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You’d moved around from city to city for years, swapping out one small apartment for the next, without leaving much of a trail behind you to follow. Over the years you’d gotten a knack for finding places that were perfectly unassuming, if anything they would deter people from looking too hard to see who lived there. But you always turned the inside into your own little sanctuary, no matter what the outside of it looked like. No one had ever crossed the threshold to find that out for themselves, though.

After years of being away, you found yourself back in New York once more. You didn’t have a hard and fast rule about going back to the same city more than once, but you’d never felt the urge. However, after you cashed in on your last contract, there was something about the city that seemed to be pulling you back, and so here you were.

Your one-bedroom apartment was far off the beaten path. You kept it dark, but over the last few weeks that you’d been there, you made good headway on making it your home. Never knowing how long you were going to be staying in one spot had never made you sacrifice on making somewhere feel like it was really your own. All the horror that laid outside your door, you’d be damned if you were going to deprive yourself of creature comforts in the one place that was your only safe place to land at the end of the day.

Stretched out on the couch, a blanket draped over you and a book in your lap, you turned another page in the newest novel that you’d picked up along the way. The lamp by the end of your couch cast just enough light for you to be able to read, but not so much that it would draw attention and bleed through the curtains that covered your windows. The glass of red wine on the table was nearly empty, and you were debating back and forth in your head if you were going to get yourself a refill when you hit the end of the chapter that you were on.

Just as you were reaching for the glass to take a sip, you heard noise coming from the hallway. Your apartment was silent most of the time. If your life wasn’t what it so clearly was, you would’ve been the type to have the television or the radio playing at all times. But anything that hindered you being able to perceive possible threats had to go, and so you’ve adjusted to the silence. The only noise you ever heard was what floated up from the streets below. Over time, the quiet chaos that made its way to your ears became soothing in its own way.

The noise that was happening outside your door wasn’t that. It also didn’t sound like your neighbors coming or going from their apartment. You waited, trying to see if the noise was going to subside. The heavy footsteps only got louder, only got closer. Shifting gears, you stopped reaching for your glass of wine and instead moved your hand slightly to the left and reached for the gun that was on the table next to it. Your hand hovered, not yet picking it up in case the footsteps just kept on moving.

Then the knocks came, clearly landing on the old, heavy wood panels of the door to your apartment. Your hand wrapped around the gun now, other hand discarding your book and pulling the blanket off you. Standing up, you slowly started to make your way towards the door, the socks on your feet and your light steps rendering you practically silent.

The cadence of the knocks was familiar. Slow, methodical. You kept count of them in your head, and when they stopped at five, your heart sped up in your chest in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. It wasn’t often that you got a visit from a dead man, after all.

You briefly glanced through the peephole in your door—there was no such thing as being too safe. Plus, it’d been so long and you’d moved so many times, and again the man was apparently dead a few times over, so there was every reason to be skeptical about him finding you. Pressing your eye to the glass, you saw him, and you couldn’t tell if you were surprised or not.

Reaching and undoing all of the locks that went down the side of your door, you took a breath before pulling it open. All the while your gun was still clutched tightly in your hand. People changed too much too often for you to count on familiar history saving you. And, even if you weren’t the type to be cynical about history mattering, you knew that the worst parts of him were also born from that history. There was no such thing as a safe person in your line of work, not even if they were your friend.

He had one hand against the doorframe, that arm acting as the only thing giving him enough support to stay upright. His other hand was pressed hard into his side trying to staunch the bleeding of a wound that you couldn’t see, but the red stain that was growing across his white shirt was impossible to miss.

He looked at you through the mess of hair that was covering most of either side of his face. He was breathing heavily, shoulders taking the brunt of the effort each breath he took. He was covered in dirt, cuts, bruises, and blood. Exactly how you remembered him, for the most part. A little older now, but weren’t you all?

“Long time, no see,” you said, your tone casual in direct opposition to how tense your body was.

You watched as he didn’t say anything in response to that, the two of you simply just standing in your doorway staring at each other. That was another upside to living in the places that you did—someone standing in your doorway on the brink of bleeding out in the hallway wasn’t going to make anyone call the cops or anyone who could actually do anything. Everyone minded their own business, and you returned the favor.

If he’d shown up in good shape, you would’ve been more concerned. Showing up with one foot in the grave meant that he needed you, and that meant that you would be safe, at least from him, for a little while longer. That was something you could work with.

“Wanna come in?” you asked, even though the answer was grossly apparent.

“Yea,” he finally said, that same tired rasp to his voice that there had always been, “please.”

Opening the door a little wider, you motioned for him to come inside. You glanced up and down the hallway to make sure that no one had followed him before shutting the door. Your back was still to him as you redid all of the locks on your door. You could feel him watching you, the way you moved, the way you still kept a tight grip on the gun in your hand. Maybe you had a problem turning away old friends, if you could even call each other that, but you weren’t so stupid to think that that history meant you were safe, or that him being battered made him any less of a threat.

Taking a deep breath, you let your head drop back, looking up at your ceiling for a moment before getting yourself right and turning back around to face him. He was partially hunched over, looking much smaller than he really was because of it.

“Officially burned through all of your other friends, then, John?” you asked as you walked over to him.

He gave a short nod. “Something like that.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Glad I’m at least still a last resort.”

The silence that followed was weighed down with a lot of questions that both of you knew better than to ask. You knew that he wasn’t going to give you any answers, not ones that would really explain much of anything, anyway. You wondered if he even had questions about you. If he knew where you were now, you had to assume that he’d known where you were before, too. Kept tabs all those years. That was quite the feat, if you were being honest and giving credit where it was due.

Much less work had gone into keeping tabs on him. Everyone knew who John Wick was, knew where he was. That was just step one in being able to cover your ass and keep yourself safe. Keep your enemies closer and all that. You hadn’t spared it too much thought once he got out. That was the whole point of getting out. He was just supposed to be John once he completed his impossible task. It lasted longer than you’d thought it would, him being out. But it would’ve been a lie to say that you were surprised when you started hearing chatter about him working again. It was even less of a surprise when the entire underground world started falling apart at the seams once he was.

“Should I even ask what happened?” you said as you stepped past him, walking deeper into your apartment.

“It’s a long story.”

You were waiting for him to actually ask for what he wanted, even though it was obvious. He was so used to the entire world either coming after him, or simply offering up to him whatever he needed. But that had never been how the two of you operated, not even when you were young. If he wanted your help, he could ask for it, especially after all of this time.

When he peeled his gaze up off the floor and actually looked at you, he saw the expression on your face. While age and hardship had changed the both of you, he still knew exactly what that look meant. One glance at the look in your eyes and suddenly he was just young, lost Jardani all over again, a boy in need of a helping hand. And, just like back then, you had more self-assurance than you should have for someone who also didn’t know what they were doing or what they were really in for.

“I need a place to stay,” he finally grit out past the pain that was shooting through his side.

A small smile quirked the ends of your lips. “Always something, huh?”

He gave one nod. “Always something.”

“You can stay, Johnny,” there was a bit of a humorous lilt to your voice as you used the name that hadn’t fallen from your lips in more years than you could even try to count.

He’d disliked the nickname back then, still disliked it now. You were the only one who ever called him that that didn’t immediately come to regret it. Even so, he made his disdain for it known. But for the moment, whatever annoyance he felt because of the nickname was outweighed by the relief of having a place to stay, at least for the night, where no one would be trying to kill him.

“If they find me because of you, though, John,” you warned him with a shake of your head, “I will kill you and keep the contract money for myself and I won’t feel any guilt about it.”

He knew you meant that. No matter how much either of you looked out for the other, if push came to shove it was always going to be about survival, first. He knew that. He respected it. He was the same exact way. That mutual understanding was what had kept the two of you alive for so long when you were younger—always making sure that you were on the same side of a fight or so far away from each other that you weren’t going to have to worry about what you might have to do to the other.

You figured that you had kept him standing in limbo, in agony, long enough. If he was willing to be patient enough to get through all of that, the least you could do was try and stitch him up enough so that he could live to die another day.

“What do you need?” you asked, not quite sure where you were supposed to begin with him.

“I think I need,” he took a small step towards your coffee table, “to sit down.”

You nodded, clearing the end of the small table so that he could take a seat on it. The short breath of relief he let out at being able to sit sounded exceptionally loud in your apartment, although in reality the sound hardly carried beyond the tiny space that passed for your living room. He still had one hand pressed hard against his side, but now the other was gripping his knee, his arm locked straight to keep him sitting somewhat upright.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” you said.

You almost set your gun down but thought better of it at the last second, tucking it into the back of your waistband instead. You stepped past him, grabbing your glass of wine and finishing off what was left of it in one swig. It was the least you deserved for the mess that you’d just let into your apartment. Apparently now it was a sanctuary for two.

Letting the glass clatter back onto the top of the coffee table, you reached to start helping him take his jacket off. You felt how stiff he was, the hesitation of it. Sighing, you stepped back and looked at him. “You came to me for help, John. If you just wanted to bleed out, you could’ve done that out on the street and saved me the trouble.”

The comment got him to relent. Peeling his hand from his knee, he slipped his arm out of the sleeve. Switching hands that were applying pressure, he let you pull the jacket off of his other arm as well. You tossed the jacket off to the side, hearing how it landed a little heavier than most jackets. Extra weight was the price of not getting pierced by bullets.

“All these years,” you said, a slight scold to your tone, “and you never learned to wear something under the shirt?”

He didn’t have a good argument for that. Or, if he did, he kept it to himself as you continued to help him peel the next layer off. You could see the pain it caused him, trying to peel the white dress shirt off of him. You cringed as well, knowing that it must’ve felt like hell. All those cuts and wounds that were maybe started to clot over being ripped open again as you slipped the shirt back off his shoulders.

For as much as the removal of it hurt, you also knew that there had to be a small wave of relief washing over John, too. Something unique about wounds being able to breathe after being suffocated by fabric and your own unstopped blood-flow.

Sitting in just his slacks and shoes, John was all blood and bruises. Nothing but tattoos, scars, and brands. He was a sight that would’ve been heart wrenching to most, pitiful even in his own way. But you didn’t have that sympathy for him. You didn’t have the fear of him either. His scars and burns and ink didn’t rouse any aversion in you because underneath the layers you were currently cloaked in, you looked almost the exact same way. Two sides of the coin, you and John Wick. Always were. Always would be.

“I’ll get my things,” you told him as you gathered up his jacket and shirt and disappeared off towards your bathroom.

You left his clothes to soak in the bathroom sink while you grabbed your kit, which was more extensive than most, and headed back out to him. All these years and the two of you still ended up like this—one person bloody and one person bandaging. At least you still had each other to fall back on when all else failed. You weren’t sure if that was a silver lining or not.

No stranger to triage, you set about taking care of his worst injuries first. Laid out on your coffee table like your apartment was an operating room, you stitched and cleaned and bandaged like someone who should’ve been paid to do things like that. If John had been anyone else, you would’ve expected payment in some form or another, the gold coins or at the very least a favor owed. More likely, if John had been anyone else you wouldn’t have answered the door, would’ve just shot him through it. But how were you supposed to do that to him?

By the time you were done, you were surprised that he was even still awake. If the exhaustion didn’t get him, you were certain that the blood loss was going to. But of course it didn’t. For all of the mythic stories that surrounded John, not even you could deny that the man just didn’t ever seem to fucking die and stay dead. You admired that about him, but you were never going to tell him that.

Standing up, you stripped your gloves off and loomed over him, inspecting your work while also trying to gauge where he was at. “Think you can stand up?”

Sitting up, he slowly pushed himself up to his feet. He was about to take a step when you saw the quiver in his leg. Before he could go down, you stepped in and hooked your arm around him, bracing him across his back and landing his arm over and across your shoulders. Both of you let out grunts of effort as you tried to make it so that both of you didn’t end up toppled to the floor.

“Stitching you up wasn’t enough?” you said as the two of you slowly started to make your way towards the bathroom. “Gonna make me carry you to the shower too?”

Even if he hadn’t been in the state he was in, he wouldn’t have given you the victory of a laugh. He never had. It was one of the few things that kept you humble. Instead, he continued to lean onto you for support as you half-guided, half-dragged him to your bathroom.

You deposited him onto the closed lid of your toilet as gracefully as you could, which was never graceful enough. He was kind enough to not make you feel any more guilty about it. At least the stitches held. You could feel him watching you as you pulled back the curtain enough to turn the water on, one hand held underneath the stream while you waited for it to warm up. Your eyes were trained on the floor as you waited, but you could hear the sounds of him pushing out of his shoes.

When the water finally got hot enough, you pulled your hand out and wiped it off on your pants. Looking over at John, you raised your eyebrows, a wordless preface to your question. “Need help with this?”

It was a genuine ask, one with no ulterior motives behind it now like it might have a few lifetimes ago. Back when you were both a lot younger and a different kind of reckless, there would’ve been layers to the question. But as it was now, you were just worried that he was going to pass out and crack his head on the edge of your tub.

“I got it,” he answered, sounding weary as ever.

Shaking your head, you said, “Of course you do.” You set a clean towel on the sink counter for him before stepping back towards the bathroom door. “Yell if you need me. Or I’ll at least hear you fall.”

You were pulling the door closed behind you when you heard him say your name. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw him slowly bring himself to his feet. “Thank you,” he said with a nod. “I know what this could cost you.”

If you’d been feeling angry, or cruel, you would’ve said something along the lines of, “And yet you still showed up anyway.” But you didn’t have it in you. There had never been any space in you for anger towards him.

Instead, you said, “The rest of the world wants you dead, Johnny. Not me.”

He nodded, knowing better than anyone how true that was, and the weight of you saying that you were an honest safety net for him. “Thank you.”

Nodding, you told him, “Clean yourself up,” and pulled the door shut.

#whumpril #whumprilday13 #support #whumpril2023 #i think i need to sit down #john wick #john wick fanfiction #john wick x reader #john wick x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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t0jisd0ll · 10 months

Text

red wine and midnight skies

genre: angst (no comfort)

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn! reader

warnings: slight ooc miguel, mentions of stalking, one use of [name]

word count: 0.7k

At this point the disappointment had become natural to you.

Getting stood up at a date started to become a common occurrence for the past few months. It was a routine, really. You would spend hours trying to get the perfect outfit, only to sit alone until midnight in some restaurant or cafe, the years threatening to spill from your eyes.

Every single time, your boyfriend Miguel would come up with some pathetic excuse or reason for why he couldn't show up.

Most of the time he couldn't even look you in the eyes as he said it.

You find yourself frequently thinking about how things used to be when you first started dating-when he actually showed up to things, when he was actually there when you needed him.

This is most of what was going through your head as you sat alone at a fancy restaurant, not even remembering how many times you had asked for a refill for your glass of wine. The waiter, along with the other diners had given you looks of pity, you could sense it.

Maybe they could tell that it wasn't your first time getting stood up like this.

Your gaze stood transfixed on your red wine, slowly twirling the glass in your hand to create a mini tornado. It usually helped you overcome the boredom of being alone.

To be honest, you quite liked being alone sometimes, that wasn't particularly new to you. Feeling alone, however, hurt the most.

The alarm on your watch rang. 11:12 pm, it read. You sighed to yourself and called for the bill. Another night wasted in the same way.

You honestly don't know why you bother anymore.

At about this time, the television in the restaurant blared with the alarm for breaking news.

"The attack on Nueva York by mutant lizard forces has been thwarted by Spiderman-"

Ignoring the blaring noises of the police sirens and the loud new, you paid the bill and left the restaurant.

As opposed to most people using their hover-vehicles and such, you actually preferred walking home. There was a decent amount of breeze during the night, and you found it quite refreshing.

Nearing your apartment, you saw a tall figure leaning on the main front door.

You rolled your eyes and slowed your pace as much as possible.

"Cariño, I was just going to come!" Miguel exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. You scoffed; he was acting like he did nothing wrong.

"Save it, Miguel. I don't want to hear another one of your petty excuses." You scowled, getting even more annoyed by the second.

"I'm so sorry mi vada, I got caught up in some-"

"[name], please, let me just-"

"No Miguel! You can't keep justifying yourself to me like this forever! You should have never accepted my proposal if you're never going to show up to anything in the first place." You half-screamed. aware that it was literally midnight and people would be asleep.

You would probably think about it later on and say that it was the alcohol talking, but whatever comes out of your mouth the first time is usually the truth.

He frowned, "If you feel so much about this, why are we still together then?" Miguel asked, breathing deeply.

"Your right, maybe we shouldn't be together after all." You blankly stated and you stormed inside your apartment building, leaving him standing alone at your doorstep.

Perhaps this was for the best after all...

The city of Nueva York was beautiful at midnight. Miguel O'Hara, however, could not bring himself to admire the scenic view. Not with his current state of mind.

Your words kept replaying in his head. The again, there was nothing he could have done. This was better than a canon event occurring after all.

If you and him had stayed together and lived a happy life and something had happened to you because of his secret identity? No, he couldn't bear to think of it.

This is fine, he said to himself. It's not like he couldn't keep an eye on you for safety. He was Spiderman for fucks sake, he could swing from here to there and make sure you were safe.

Yes, everything would be fine.

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 8 months

Note

Headcannon:

Say Erik is in a relationship and reader is the toxic baby mama ( let’s switch it up a bit ) 🤣

“Erik your baby mama is calling your phone again.”

Erik turned his eyes away from the TV for the fifth time. He was spending some quality time with his new girlfriend when Y/N decided 10 pm was the perfect time to call. He dropped off their son hours earlier and got into a heated argument because Erik finally confessed to having a new special someone.

“Are you gonna answer it, E?”

“Aight,” Erik exhaled frustratingly, “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t take too long!”

“I won’t,” Erik stood up from the couch, bending forward to plant a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek, “Refill my glass of wine for me, baby.”

Erik strolled away and into the kitchen, hoping that he was out of ear-shot enough to talk to Y/N. Sure enough, she called again and Erik slammed his thumb down on the green button to answer her call.

“What the fuck is it?” Erik questioned with an abrasive tone.

“Who are you talking to, Erik? Don’t talk to me like you ain’t got no sense!”

Erik shut his eyes to calm himself.

“Why do you keep blowing up my phone, girl? I told you I got company—”

“I don’t give a fuck about that bitch. I need you to send me some extra money so I can finish school shopping for Jr. I wanna get him some more shoes.”

“You know we could have had this conversation another time, right?”

“Erik, I don’t care about your little girl friend. If I feel like calling you at 10 pm about your son then that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Erik glanced over his shoulder to make sure his girl was decent. She was so patient with all of this. Any other girl would have gone running but she stuck beside him.

“Aight, Aight. I’ll send you more money. I gotta go.”

“Look at you tryna rush me off the phone. Whatever, Erik. I’ll come pick up the cash tomorrow.”

“Can’t I just send it to you,” Erik rolled his eyes.

“No. You know I prefer cash.”

No. You just wanna see me.

“Whatever. I’ll be here. Text me and let me know when you show up.”

Erik hung up before she could even say a word.

—————-//—————

Y/N approaches Erik’s door with their son’a hand in hers. She was looking sexy with her hair, nails, toes, and lashes. Y/N always looked bomb. She knocked on Erik’s door since she lost key privileges and Erik opened the door shirtless. He looked very annoyed with her being their until his eyes dropped to his son who he scooped up into his arms.

“What’s up boy?! I missed you! Is that a fresh cut?! Lookin’ all sharp like your dad!”

His son smiled with his missing two front teeth. Erik kisses his forehead before stepping aside to allow Y/N to enter…and enter she did. She had a purposeful switch in her hips that made that ass bounce. Erik stole a glance at what used to be his and could be at any given time.

“Where you goin?” Erik asked with an elevated brow.

“Nowhere. Where’s my money?”

Erik kissed his teeth, “On the table. Fuck is your problem?”

Y/N snatched up the money which was more than she needed. She’ll pocket the rest.

“Thank youuuu!” Y/N bat her lashes at Erik.

“Uh-huh,” Erik sat his son down, “we need to talk.”

“About?”

Y/N made herself comfortable next to their son with her meaty thighs crossed. She stroked the curls on top of his head while staring Erik up and down.

“Why do you keep messing with my girl? She said that she saw you in the nail shop earlier today and you cussed her out?”

“Oh,” Y/N examined her nails, “She kept giving me this look and I ain’t like that. So, I dug in her shit. She think she’s all that. You need to check her before I do and you know I’m good for it. I’ll wipe the floor with her fake ass.”

“No, you won’t. Don’t start no shit, Y/N. And what’s your obsession with her ass?”

“That ass is Miami bought.”

Erik chuckles despite his growing anger.

“I better not find out she been around my son, Erik. You better not be lying to me. I swear I’ll ring your neck.”

Erik mugged Y/N with his gold slugs on display.

“Fuck outta here. You got your money, why don’t you go ahead and shop while I spend time with my son.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, ignoring Erik completely and pulling out her phone.

“It’s not a request. I’m telling you to get your ass up—”

“Daddy! Language!”

His son looked up from his tablet at Erik.

“You’re right, little man, I’m sorry.”

Erik glanced at Y/N and motioned for her to get up.

“FINE. I won’t be long I know what I need.”

Y/N grabbed her purse and walked up to Erik. She folded her arms and stared up at him with amusement.

“How long you plan on entertaining this new hoe before you hit me up?” Y/N whispered.

Erik stared her down with low eyes. He wasn’t going to do it this time.

“We ain’t going there, ma.” Erik said with a voice that wasn’t so convincing.

“You miss this, I know you do. It’ll only take so long before you realize where you belong.”

Y/N stood on her tip toes and pressed her lips against Erik’s cheek. She pulled away and dragged her hand down his chest before walking away and out the door. Erik released a long breath before joining their son on the sofa.

“Wanna watch Encanto?”

————////—————

It happened like she said it would. Erik was single again. His new girl didn’t like the fact that Erik wouldn’t let her meet his son so soon. Despite what Y/N thinks, Erik was very careful not to introduce his son to any other women so early. It had only been a month. Erik sat in his apartment after a busy weekend with his son at the Kidz Park. He was put to sleep and it finally gave Erik some time to relax.

So he thought.

A knock to his apartment door had him up and out of his seat, he strolled to the door and peeked through to find his baby mama standing there with his favorite take out food and a bright smile. Erik pressed his forehead against the door and contemplated on if he should let her in.

“Erik! Open the door! Come onnnnnn.”

“Why should I? So you can get on my damn nerves?”

“I got your favorite! Come on, daddy!”

“Y/N,” Erik spoke with warning, “don’t you got better shit to do?”

“I could be doing you right now but you keep playing.”

Erik shakes his head. He straightens his back and opened the door. Y/N was wearing those tight black shorts he liked with a white cropped tee. She had her nails and toes matching with hot pink acrylic and she smelled amazing. She didn’t tear her eyes away from Erik in a pair of gray sweats and shirtless with that sculpted body.

“You tryna tell me something, baby daddy?”

“Are you coming in or not?”

She kissed her teeth, “move your strong ass out the way and maybe I will.”

Erik couldn’t keep the glare in his eyes off of Y/N. Everyday it’s a new issue with her. A week ago he had to check her about spreading lies to her peoples about them getting back together. Three days ago she cursed him out about having a new girlfriend. Today he didn’t know what to expect.

“You can leave the food and bounce.” Erik said.

“I’m staying the night. I want some dick.”

Despite Erik’s annoyance, he laughed.

“You laughing, I’m serious. Would you rather I fuck some other dude?”

Erik cut his eyes at Y/N. She smirked at him.

“I’m not doing this back and forth with you anymore. It’s toxic as fuck.” Erik replied.

Y/N scowled at Erik.

“All we do is argue, Erik. Who doesn’t argue?”

“I can’t move on without you having a problem with every girl I end up with!”

“stop yelling at me, Erik. Not my fault you can’t get over me.

Erik counted off on his fingers, “one chick you showed up to my family’s and fought, the other chick from a year ago you keyed her car, and now I’m single again.”

“…I’m a changed woman,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Everything is a game to you,” Erik brushed past her.

Y/N grabbed the back of his sweats and yanked, stopping Erik in his tracks.

“Listen, E, I’m sorry, okay? I know I can be too much. I love you and I hate that you can’t stand being around me.”

Y/N blinked away from Erik to stare down at her feet with a solemn expression. Erik stood there watching her with an expressionless face, waiting for the water works.

“…I want us to be a big happy family. Jr would love that. We could all be together—”

“While you fuck your side dude whenever we have problems?” Erik said.

“I’m done with that!”

“No, you’re not. You just wanna have your cake and eat it too. I bet that nigga still hitting.”

Erik gave Y/N one last look before leaving her standing in the kitchen. He walked up to his door and opened it for her to leave. He wasn’t going to allow himself to fall for her ways again. It’s a habit that he needed to break. Y/N approaches him with sad eyes and an adorable pout. Erik didn’t even look at her. He refused to do it.

“I’ll have Jr. ready tomorrow afternoon. I’ll drop him off after I take him to my moms. Is that cool wit’ you?”

Y/N pressed her body against Erik’s and rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

“C’mon, ma. Time to go.”

She pressed her face into his chest and slowly started lowering to her knees.

“Y/N…chill out. Get up. I’m serious.” Erik spoke with a monotone voice.

Y/N hooked her fingers into the waistband of his sweats and started slowly lowering them. Erik finally dropped his eyes down to meet hers and she could see clearly that his defense was weakening.

“Still want me to go?”

Erik clenched his jaw when she kissed his semi hard dick.

“Huh? Still wanna kick me out?”

She dipped her head and opened her mouth, lips secure around his tip before maneuvering his dick into her mouth with no hands. Air escaped Erik’s nose leisurely.

“I can’t fucking stand you,” Erik snatched up her hair in his fist tightly, “I swear I can’t stand you.”

Door wide open, Y/N on her knees, Erik once again fell for his baby mama’s trap. The moment won’t last long. As soon as she’s done sucking his dick and fucking him, she’ll only piss him off and Erik will regret ever getting caught up with her for the hundredth time.

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut

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cookeybg · 23 days

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Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

I'm back! Sorry for the delay. You know how it is, when it rains it pours and all that. Here's the next chapter. I couldn't get it the way I wanted but I hope it isn't too bad. It is a short chapter though so I hope you enjoy!

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

[Here's my table of contents]

Part 1 - Chapter 5

“Thank you, Alfred.” Damian said. “You are welcome, Master Damian.” Alfred replied. Jon took a sip of his strawberry juice while he watched Alfred the butler, because the Wayne’s had an actual butler, go down the table refilling the cups for the rest of the children. They were nearly done with the most awkward dinner Jon had ever had and he was ready to go home and bury himself in his blanket for the weekend. The entire time he had sat listening to Conner, who sat to his left, chattering with Tim, who sat across from him, about school and TV shows. The three others on Tim’s right would add to their conversation every once in a while. Jon on the other hand couldn’t even taste his fancy food because Damian’s judgy green eyes would lock on to Jon too often to be comfortable. A servant came in with a food cart filled with what Jon hoped was dessert. Alfred, the butler (Jon wasn’t sure if he could get used to that), fussed over the dessert and gave a nod to the waiter who proceeded announce what they were about to eat. Jon heard nothing. He could feel green orbs burn the side of his face and he tried his best to ignore it. Not being able to take it anymore he stared back, blue locked on to green, green narrowed and blue briefly looked away only to look back and see an infuriating smirk grace Damian’s stupidly handsome face. Jon could feel his face heat up, with a frown he took another sip of his drink and by the grace of whatever god, a waiter came by to collect the last of his dinner and the pointless decorative plate that the real plate had been placed on. Another waiter placed his dessert in front of him telling him to enjoy. Jon stared down at what looked like a baseball sized, round, piece of chocolate. It had two pieces of chocolate spiral ribbon casually leaning on it and gold leaf on top. Next to it lay three slices of what looked like mandarin oranges. He heard a noise and looked up to see that Damian had cracked the chocolate ball with his spoon and the inside had ice cream. When he looked around he noticed that the rest of the table had done the same. “Jon, it taste just like those Cutties oranges!” Conner exclaimed. Jon smiled and broke the chocolate shell with his spoon, it made a satisfying cracking sound and Jon dug in. It really was good and he smiled in contentment. When he looked up, he noticed Damian looking away. Did Damian think he was dumb because he hadn’t figured out what had been in front of him? It wasn’t his fault he had been distracted while the Chef had been explaining their meal. Jon grumbled finishing the delicious meal.

“Kids! We have both good news and bad news to announce!” Clark’s voice was a volume louder than it normally would have been, but Jon could see the flush on his cheeks caused by the wine he kept on drinking. “Tell them the good news first!” Lois was no different since Bruce and Talia kept filling their wine glasses throughout dinner. Clark nodded and looked back at the rest of the table and gave his patented Kent smile. “We won the bid for the house we went to look at during summer break!” “No way!” Conner and Jon yelled at the same time. “The bad news is, it’s not move in ready yet.” Lois said making an exaggerated pout. “But the good news is, instead of renewing the contract for the apartment, the Bruce and Talia have offered their home while we finalize all the paperwork!” There were shocked exclamation throughout the table but none as loud as Jon’s, “What!” “Tt, father, has your adoption habit expanded to include a whole family?” Damian said, throwing his napkin on his plate, leaning back and crossing his arms. He scowled at both his parents but his fiery glare landed on Bruce. “Damian.” Talia admonished. “Now, son, you can think of this as a sleepover with one of your friends.” Bruce patted Damian’s head. “He is not my friend!” Damian hissed swatting Bruce’s hand away. “I think it will be fun!” Dick popped out of nowhere and latched onto Damian’s waist, hanging awkwardly onto him. “Richard, these aren’t good table manners.” Damian sighed as he adjusted Dick to sit properly on his lap. “You were slouching!” Dick smiled happily and Bruce ruffled his dark locks as well. “I think it’ll be fun too.” Jason and Cassandra had snuck up to stand behind Damian’s chair and Jason gave Jon a mischievous grin, while Cassandra nodded agreeably. “I can show you my gaming set up.” Tim told Conner. “It’s settled then.” Clark said. “Wait,” Jon’s voice cracked when he yelled, making him blush, but he continued, “hold on! W-when is this happening?” “Next week. It gives us plenty of time to pack and put things in storage.” Lois said. Jon leaned back dumbfounded. He looked over at Damian in dismay. Damian was fixing Dick’s hair while his stayed ruffled. Jon was not looking forward to this.

FYI: They did not drink and drive, they took a Lyft home.

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #jonathan kent #damian and jon #jondami #damijon #high school au #no capes au #fanfic #fanfiction #first time writing #supersons

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 4 months

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The Knight & His Queen: Part 2

Fic Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

Dieter Bravo x OFC

Summary: While looking for the perfect Christmas gift for his niece, Dieter Bravo finds himself in a small mystic shop, owned by the sweet and eccentric Amina. After an impromptu tarot reading with unexpected and surprising results, the two quickly find themselves entranced by each other.

Warnings: Spicy language, alcohol consumption, smut, & mentions of drug use. Mystical topics such as tarot readings, spirit guides, chakras, etc. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: “Get it together Bravo.”

Dieter POV

As I sat at the table not paying attention to anything happening on stage and trying to get the server’s attention to refill my glass of wine, my mind kept coming back to one thing…the girl from the shop. Amina. She was unlike anything I had ever seen with her long silky dark hair and eyes that looked like the moon. She was invading every inch of my brain and entering my bloodstream, stronger and with more force than any drug I had ever consumed. She wasn’t the type of person I was normally attracted to. She seemed sweet, but also a little quirky. Definitely not the usual self-centered type that typically found their way into my life.

When I first saw Amina this morning through the shop window and she smiled at Ava, my entire body started to tingle. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Something about her was pulling me in, like twin astronomical objects stuck in each other’s gravitational orbit, the other half to my binary star system. I wanted to go inside immediately but thought against it since Ava was with me. She didn’t need to see her uncle dissolve into a bumbling mess over a pretty lady. She would have never let me live that down.

Ava’s Christmas request did give me a reason to go back to the shop, which I was delighted over. I decided to swing back by after dropping her off with her mom, knowing there was a possibility that it might make me late for the benefit fundraiser that I was currently suffering through. Between the uncomfortable chair that was causing my lower back to feel like it was about to snap in half and the stuck up ass holes I had been seated with, it gave me all the more reason to focus my thoughts on Amina, with the occasional intrusive thought telling me I should have taken a couple more edibles before I left the house.

As the next musical act took the stage, a server passed by. I waved my hand to get his attention, finally getting a refill. As he was about to walk away to the next table, I told him to leave the bottle, realizing it was nearly full. I didn’t want to have to flag somebody down again. He briefly resisted, but finally handed it over to avoid a scene. Sitting the bottle down on the table in front of me, I chanced a look around and noticed the lady across the table from me giving a disapproving look. I smiled and held up my overly full glass in a toast toward her. She rolled her eyes and turned back toward the stage. “Huh. Tough crowd,” I mumbled to myself. The bottle of wine and thoughts of Amina were the only things that could get me through tonight.

My mind kept circling back to the tarot reading. I had never considered doing a reading before, but I had a strange urge to do it when I saw the sign. My compulsive nature not allowing me to leave the shop without it. The reading itself blew my mind, of course. It really had me reevaluating everything I thought I knew about myself and what I wanted in my future, but it was Amina’s reaction to it that really stuck with me. I felt like there was something she was holding back, but I wasn’t sure what. It made me feel uneasy, but also giddy about the possibility of additional prospects.

As I refilled my third glass of wine, I considered the weird electricity I had felt between us. Was that just my imagination? I felt like she could feel it too by the way she kept looking at me. Especially when I shook her hand…or maybe she just recognized who I was? Is that how she knew I was a Leo? I had so many fucking questions and it was starting to give me a headache. Or maybe it was all the wine and edibles mixing badly.

Before today, I had given up on the idea of love. My past relationships were full of turmoil and drama. Most people just used me for money or notoriety. Once they got what they wanted, they were off to their next great adventure leaving me behind without a second thought. All of those experiences had hardened me, making me question people’s motives at every turn. It had sort of turned me into a pessimistic asshole. These days I prefer to spend my time alone and high, with the exception of family time. My sister and niece were the only two I actually enjoyed being around. I wondered if I could add Amina to that short list? She seemed different, not corrupted by the business…a normal person. She probably wouldn’t want to be pulled into this world though. She seemed too pure and gentle for it.

Movement in my left periphery pulled me out of my thoughts. One of my crazy exes was eyeing me from where she stood a few tables over. I exhaled rather loudly before spitting out an annoyed “Fuck.” The asshats sitting next me at the table turned, giving me a confused look. I grabbed my glass and the bottle of wine and made a beeline for the first door I saw before she had the chance to come over and talk to me. When I walked through the door, I was met by a flurry of activity from the servers. This was obviously an area I wasn’t supposed to be in.

The server that had left the bottle of wine appeared in front of me with a frustrated look, “Mr. Bravo, you can’t be back here. This area is not for guests.”

“I don’t fucking care. I can’t be out there. Where’s the exit?”

He raised his brows at me before answering, “The way you came.”

“No…no, no. There has to be another one. Fire code says so. Take me to it…please.” He stood there, giving me a dismissive look. I clearly needed a different approach, “My crazy ex is out there looking for me. I can’t talk to her. She’ll want to come home with me, and I’ll probably let her because I’m a fucking idiot. Don’t enable me…please.”

I could see his resolve crumbing, “Alright, fine. Come on.” I followed him through the kitchen area to the exit at the back that led out to an alley lined with several dumpsters. I drained my glass before handing it to the young man but kept the bottle of wine. Shaking his head at me, he disappeared back inside. I figured I had been at the event long enough, so I called my driver to come get me to take me home.

When I got home, I still had Amina on the brain and got the sudden urge to paint. I didn’t even bother changing out of my dress clothes before starting on a fresh canvas in the corner of my bedroom. I had an image in my head that I needed to get out even if I wasn’t exactly sure what it was. It was a swirl of light blue, navy, deep red, and a touch of yellow. And there were shapes too…circles and half-moons of varying sizes in a bronze color. It was the most bizarre thing. I finished off the bottle of wine as I painted. Eventually getting hot and stripping down to my boxer briefs, scattering the rather expensive clothes around the room and probably getting paint on them in my drunken state. By the time 3AM rolled around, I was running out of steam. I crawled into bed, still covered in paint.

I awoke the next morning to the hot sun streaming in through the French doors. As I lay there, I had an urge to go back to the shop today. I wanted to see Amina again. I wanted to get to know her. I reached for my phone and started scrolling Instagram as I always do when I first wake up. As I was trying to think through my next steps, a post from the Griffith Observatory caught my attention. There was going to be a meteor shower tomorrow night. I started toying with the idea of going there to view the event so I could use their telescopes since I didn’t have any other plans. Maybe I could take Ava…she loved that stuff.

I sat up quickly. “Wait...Maybe…that’s an amazing idea,” I said out loud to myself. I could ask Amina to go. She would be into that stuff, right? I nearly tripped over the blankets tangled around my legs as I jumped up out of bed to go shower. Afterwards, I tried to tame my messy locks, but I wasn’t sure how well I succeeded. At least it looked like it was supposed to be that way on purpose. I threw on a navy and gray plaid button up shirt, leaving the top few buttons open and rolling up the sleeves, paired with dark wash jeans. I looked somewhat put together and even added a little cologne. Satisfied with my appearance, I popped a couple of edibles to chill my ass out, grabbed my wallet, phone, sunglasses, and keys before heading out the door.

I wasn’t sure what time the shop opened, but it was nearing 11 AM when I parked the car. I figured it had to be open by now. I could feel the nervousness creeping in. I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually asked someone out on a real date and planned it. Most of the time I would just end up leaving an event or a party with someone and stay with them for several days or until they got whatever they needed from me. That’s just how the Hollywood lifestyle worked, and I was over it months ago. It did nothing but cause me grief.

As I approached the shop from across the street, I could see the neon ‘open’ sign glowing in the front window. I could feel my heart rate picking up, realizing that this felt like foreign territory to me. I wasn’t even sure what to say to her. It was probably better I didn’t think too hard about it, or I would end up chickening out. Besides, I was just doing what the cards said. Seeing the opportunity and taking the leap.

Thinking of the card reading stopped me in my tracks, “Fuck” I whispered to myself, backing against the brick wall of the building. I hadn’t considered the card reading. Knowing what the reading implied…that could be a lot of pressure and weird as hell. Should I just stroll in and say, ‘Oh hi, I think you're my soulmate the cards spoke of?’ I was suddenly starting to feel like this was a bad idea, like she would think I was nuts.

I was about to turn and go back to my car when movement from across the street caught my attention. I watched as the shop door opened and Amina stepped outside to hold the door for an elderly woman carrying a bag and walking with a cane. They were both smiling and obviously having a pleasant exchange as the older woman slowly made her way down the small ramp from the door. Amina clearly had a kind heart and cared about others. However, it wasn’t her actions that currently held my attention, but what she was wearing; flared jeans, brown clogs, and a deep red sleeveless duster over a shirt with bell sleeves. It was the shirt that stood out to me, specifically the design on it. A swirl of light blue, navy, dark red, with a hint of yellow, just like my painting from last night.

“What the fuck? No way.”

That had to be a sign, right? My feet started moving toward the shop without my permission. I momentarily paused before opening the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, but it didn’t seem to do anything to help.

I huffed out, “Get it together Bravo.” Like that was supposed to do something.

When I entered, I didn’t immediately see anyone. So, I started browsing through the book section, occasionally peeking around to look for Amina. I thought I could hear hushed voices coming from the back before Amina stumbled through the beaded curtains, looking back with an annoyed expression on her face. I raised an eyebrow in her direction with a smirk on my face. She looked flustered, which I found to be adorable. As her eyes met mine, she smiled sweetly, walking toward me.

“Dieter, you’re back so soon? I don’t…have the mockup ready yet…”

My eyes widened at her words. Fuck, I didn’t even think about that. I didn’t want her to feel rushed.

“No, sorry…sorry, I’m not here for that. I wouldn’t expect you to have it ready that quickly.”

She rubbed her hand across her forehead, “Whew, ok good.”

We both chuckled before she continued, “Is there something I can help you with then?”

“Umm…”

She gave me a questioning look, a small smile playing on her lips. And her eyes…fuck, I could get lost in them. I couldn’t look away. They were the most beautiful shade of gray with flecks of another color I couldn’t exactly pinpoint. Maybe a darker shade of gray? Blue? They reminded me of the lunar surface. Divine, almost otherworldly. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there staring like an idiot with my mouth hanging open, but it was long enough for her to fill the silence. She pinched her brows together, clearly confused by my reaction.

“Are you looking for specific reading material?” She nodded toward the book in my hand.

“Umm…” Use your words Bravo. “No, nothing specific. Umm, I do like learning about astrology though. I noticed these yesterday and wanted to come check them out…Do you have any recommendations?”

I noticed her eyes flick down, like she was looking me over with a smirk on her face. Was she checking me out? Fucking hell. I have no idea what I’m doing.

“Any of them are good. I don’t put anything on the shelf that I haven’t read myself. It just depends on the specific topic you’re looking for really.”

“Oh, well I’ll just browse then.” I was almost positive the smile I gave her was ridiculous looking.

She nodded, “Right. Well…let me know if you have any questions and I would be happy to help.” She smiled, hesitating for a second before she walked back toward the register.

I stood there flipping through books for way longer than I should have, occasionally stealing quick glances toward Amina at the register. It looked like she was doing something on a laptop, but there were a couple of times I felt like I had caught her quickly looking away from me.

I eventually grabbed a couple of random books from the shelf to purchase. I hadn’t really looked at any of them and had no idea what was in my hand. I made my way around the shop, taking my time to look at every inch of the place while I tried to decide on my next step. There was so much I wanted to buy, but I didn’t want to look like a weirdo. I did grab the incense burner I had seen the previous day. I had a thing for wolves, so it went with my vibe. I still hadn’t decided on a plan of action by the time I got up to the register, but I couldn’t stall anymore without looking like a creep. When I sat everything down on the counter, Amina started shuffling through the books I had grabbed. She held one up, biting her lip slightly before asking, “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

I was momentarily distracted by her bottom lip tucked between her teeth before I looked over to the book in her hand, which was called The Astrology of Sex. What a fucking idiot. That’s a great impression. I could feel my mouth drop open as my face heated. I knew I had to be turning red.

“Oh…umm. I didn’t mean to grab that. I-I meant to get the one beside it…I think…”

Her smile widened, “I mean, it’s an interesting read.” She chuckled. “You wanna swap it out…for the correct one?”

I wish she hadn't said that. The thought of her reading a book about sex was sending signals directly to my dick.

I let out a breathy laugh, “I mean, if you say it’s a good read, I’ll give it a try on your recommendation.”

She smiled at me as she started ringing everything up. The way she looked at me was making my heart beat out of my chest. I tried to look everywhere but at her, yet somehow the pendant on the long chain around her neck still caught my attention. It was copper, an elongated oval with different half-moon shapes above and below a full circle stamped into the metal. It was the same shapes that I couldn’t get out of my head last night.

“That pendant on your necklace, what are those shapes?”

She glanced down, lifting it so I could get a better look. “Oh, it's the different moon phases.”

“Huh…” I was a little stunned. “That’s interesting...”

I looked away, trying to process this new bit of information. Was this the universe's way of pushing me to ask her out? I was beginning to feel the pressure bearing down on me. I started tapping on the counter, then realized Amina had said something that I missed.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I felt like such a jackass. I had completely spaced out on her.

She raised her brows at me and pointed toward green numbers on the register, “Your total.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” I pulled out my wallet and handed her my credit card. Her fingers brushed lightly against mine as she took it, causing my entire body to buzz with electricity. I wasn’t ready to leave, but I didn’t know what else to say. I noticed a small display for chakra bracelets next to the register.

“What’s a chakra?” I legitimately didn’t know. Hopefully I wasn’t about to make an ass of myself again.

She looked up at me through her lashes as she bagged everything, a smirk on her face. My breath hitched slightly at the sight.

“It’s a belief that originates from early Hinduism that we have different energy disks that we should maintain and keep open. Each one corresponds with different parts of the body. There are seven of them.”

She pulled a chart out that had seven different colored circles and each one had a name related to a power. I scanned down the list; Crown, Third Eye, Throat, Heart, Solar Plexus, Sacral, and Root.

Picking one at random I asked, “What’s the Sacral Chakra do?”

She raised her brow at me before smiling, “It’s related to creativity and sexuality.”

My head dropped as I squeezed my eyes shut. Of course it is. I should just stop now before I embarrass myself any further. I chuckled before meeting her eyes again. She seemed amused but continued with her explanation.

“There are stones that relate to each Chakra. When you wear them, it helps with healing and balance. Allowing your energies to flow freely.”

She grabbed one of the bracelets from the display, unclasping it before reaching for my arm and closing it around my wrist next to the others I was currently wearing, “That’s on the house….to add to your collection. The brownish-red stone is called Carnelian. It’s the Sacral stone.”

Her fingertips brushed down the side of mine as she pulled away, leaving a searing heat where they touched. A slight smile playing at the edge of her lips over her teasing words.

I was almost certain I felt my heart skip a beat when she glanced back up at me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. I just stood there with a dumbstruck grin on my face staring at her. I finally managed to mumble out my thanks before clumsily grabbing the bags and turning toward the exit, chastising myself for allowing the moment to pass without asking her out. I walked all the way back to my car and got in. Sitting there replaying every detail of that interaction and hating myself for failing at my mission and acting like a dumbass.

I couldn’t go back now without it being weird. I had completely blown that opportunity. I sighed as I stared at the bag in the passenger seat. A low chuckle escaped my lips as I realized I bought the incense burner but didn’t get any incense to burn. Was I really about to go back in there? Yes, I fucking was.

Before I had time to talk myself out of it, I was walking through the shop entrance again. Amina looked up from her laptop, her eyebrows pinching together, obviously confused as to why I was back. I gave an awkward wave in her direction.

“Sorry to bother you again. I got to the car and realized I forgot to get incense…to go with the burner.”

Her face softened as a smile formed on her plump lips, “Ahh, perhaps I should have asked if you needed any to save you the trip.”

She walked around from behind the counter, “I have several to choose from over here. Do you know which scent you’re looking for?”

I chuckled, “I’ve heard incense can be good to mask the smell of weed. So, whatever is good for that.”

She quirked an eyebrow at me, laughing quietly at my reasoning. Hopefully that wasn’t something that bothered her.

“It can depend on the strain you’re masking, but usually vanilla is a good cover for any of them. If it’s something on the stronger side, Patchouli works well. Sandalwood, citrus, and lavender are effective for the weaker strains.”

I nodded along, but I was only half listening. Instead, I was wondering what she smelled like... and I was dying to touch the silky tendrils of hair laying across her face.

“Umm, what’s your preference?” Was the only response I could think of. I wasn’t sure if I had blinked since she started speaking. I was completely entranced by her.

She smiled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “I prefer the softer scents of vanilla and citrus myself.”

She pulled a pack of each from the display, holding them up for me to smell. I briefly wondered if I would find similar scents on her skin as I inhaled each of them.

“Those do smell nice. I’ll go with them,” I nodded, happy with that decision.

“Anything else you forgot?” She raised her brows in a questioning gesture.

I laughed nervously, “I don’t think so. If I did, I’ll just come right back again.”

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, fighting a smile as she walked toward the register.

Fucking hell Bravo, just do it already.

I cleared my throat as I approached, nervously drumming my fingers on the counter as I worked up the courage to ask her.

“Amina, umm…” Her eyes snapped to mine. She seemed surprised by my casual use of her name.

I exhaled slowly. No stopping now.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” She looked momentarily stunned by my question. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” I continued, blurting it out at her. It was not the best delivery.

“Umm, does it have to be tomorrow? I do have work…”

Fuck. I didn’t think that through. I felt hot all of a sudden, flushed. My ears were starting to ring from the blood pounding in them. Then the word vomit started.

“No…no it doesn’t have to be tomorrow. It’s just…there’s a meteor shower tomorrow night and I figured we could go to the observatory and use their telescopes to watch it and look at other things too…since it’s supposed to be a clear night. I thought it might be something you would enjoy doing with me? If not, we can totally do something else another day too if you prefer?”

Before she could respond, we were interrupted by the same girl from yesterday busting through the beaded curtain.

“Mina, I can close tomorrow. Go. That sounds like a good time.” The girl winked and nudged her shoulder against Amina’s to emphasize some unspoken words between them. Clearly, she had been listening.

Amina stood staring at me, looking conflicted. I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach at the realization that she was probably going to turn me down. I had nothing to lose at this point, so I might as well go for it.

“I realize the whole thing with the card reading yesterday probably makes this a little weird…but, I really would like an opportunity to get to know you better. If it matters, I did want to come in and talk to you the second I saw you in the window yesterday morning.”

Amina’s eyes widened with that new bit of information. I felt it was important that she knew I was interested before the reading. I didn’t want her to think I was blindly asking just because of the cards.

She let out a controlled breath, “Ok…yeah. That sounds like fun actually.”

She suddenly seemed shy as she smiled up at me. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Yeah?” She nodded. “That’s amazing. Awesome.” I couldn’t help the goofy grin I knew I had plastered on my face.

“Give me your phone,” she said suddenly. I fished it out of my pocket, unlocking it before handing it over to her.

“Here’s my number. I’ll text you my address. Pick me up at six if that time works?”

I nodded maybe a little too enthusiastically, “That sounds perfect.”

When she handed my phone back, I glanced at her contact information, noticing she listed her details under ‘Mina - The Mystic Shop Girl’. She must have noticed how I had names listed in my contacts and I loved that she went along with it. I looked up at her with a smirk. She was fighting a smile too as she went back to ringing up my purchase that I had completely forgotten about. We completed the transaction in a comfortable silence. Both of us stealing glances at each other with small smiles on our faces throughout. Once I finished paying, I gave her a nod of thanks as I turned to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I added over my shoulder, still smiling like a fool as I excited the shop.

I felt like I could have done a little jig as I walked back to my car. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this excited about something. Today was a good day and tomorrow was going to be even fucking better.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the knight & his queen

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cest-la-vieve · 2 years

Text

Head Games

Summary: Smutty follow-up to Mind Games (which I encourage you to read first and if you haven't you can do so here) where reader has been waiting to see if Azriel makes good on his threat... and he does.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Smut under the cut!!! (Had to fulfill the disturbing lack of shadowplay on this site)

Notes: the widely requested part two of Mind Games!! i hope you guys enjoy, this is my first attempt at smut and i definitely enjoyed writing it so i hope that translates well into reading. as always, feel free to hmu with any suggestions, feedback, or requests!!

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“You have no idea what you started, angel.”

The words rang through my head for weeks following the interaction.

At the time, even as I had opened my mouth to respond, he was gone. Nothing but wisps of shadows were left in his wake. I had stayed pressed up against that wall longer than I cared to admit, waiting until my breathing had evened back out before finally pulling myself away.

Despite the fact I could hear Mor and Cassian yelling at me tomorrow for not joining them at Rita’s, I had just gone upstairs, taken a bath, and gone to bed. I couldn’t handle going there and not knowing if he was there or not.

For weeks, I watched him at every official meeting, every informal dinner, and even from the hall as he would make his breakfast every morning. He acted casual through all of it, no hint of the male who had made the most terrifying, yet sensual promise I had ever heard.

I refused to be the one to bring it up. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted or what he had meant. If he intended to just win game night or if he meant something… more. I couldn’t help myself from letting my thoughts wander when I was alone. How he would be… What he would say… I had let my hands wander my body imagining they were his more times than I could count. I just kept waiting for him to say something, but he never did.

The next three game nights were of no consequence, going exactly how they usually did. I refused to be lulled into a false sense of security, though, knowing that was probably exactly his plan. So I kept my guard up, though I didn’t let him see that. I had learned enough from the other members of this Court to perfect my acting skills. So I went back to the sweet, innocent female they all knew, no hint of suspicions towards Azriel, and back to being competitive during our game nights.

It took two more before he made his move. I wasn’t sure whether he believed that I had forgotten it or if he had just decided now was the night.

I only knew that he was planning something when he began plying everyone but me with wine. Even as he passed the wine around, he gave me a pointed look that told me I shouldn’t refill my glass. I just quirked an eyebrow in response and he sent me a devilish grin that sent my head reeling.

I had no idea what his plan was but if it started with getting everyone drunk, that I could help with.

I lifted my glass, “I propose a-”

“Game of Paranoia.”

I turned to Az, furrowing my eyebrows. I was just going to say we should play a drinking game if the goal was to get people drunk, but Paranoia would be… interesting, to say the least.

I watched Rhys mentally check in with Feyre before extending a small nod of agreement to Azriel. Cassian and Nesta didn’t even look at each other before they instantly agreed. Mor raised her glass with a smirk on her lips before taking a sip. Amren was curled up in Varian’s lap but gave a hum of agreement.

Azriel’s eyes hadn’t left mine since he had made the suggestion. I noted the challenge that lay within them and couldn’t help myself from saying, “Are you sure you can handle any of your secrets coming out, Shadowsinger?”

Everyone looked at me in shock, but Azriel gave me a downright feral grin. “It’s not my secrets I’d be worried about.”

I could feel everyone glancing between us in confusion but I refused to be the one to break whatever staring contest this had turned into. Someone cleared their throat, dragging both Azriel and me from each other’s gaze.

Elain sheepishly asked, “What’s Paranoia?”

“Paranoia, my dear Elain,” Cassian said, grinning as he placed an arm around her shoulder from his place next to her, “Is a game where you whisper a question to the person next to you and they answer out loud with someone in the room. A coin flip decides whether the question is revealed to the group or if it stays secret. Heads, it stays secret. Tails, everyone gets to hear it.”

Elain’s mouth dropped into an “o” shape as she registered the rules. She looked at me and I shrugged, offering her a comforting smile. That was all the confirmation she needed and she nodded to the group, “Okay, I’m in.”

We all took a few moments to shuffle around the room, getting into an order that we thought would be the most fun. I sat next to Nesta, already making a mental list of questions I could ask her. She was next to Elain, then Rhysand, then Feyre, then Mor, then Amren (on top of Varian, who refused to play), then Cassian, and then… I glanced to my right and saw Azriel, with a straight face but a triumphant glimmer in his eye.

I smacked myself internally, how did I let him wind up next to me? I should’ve paid more attention.

“Who’s going first?” I asked, distancing myself from the intimidating male next to me.

Everyone glanced around the room before we all collectively settled on Rhysand. He held up his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, I thought we didn’t enforce rank in this Court.”

I laughed and Feyre shoved him with her shoulder, “Just ask me a question, Rhys!”

He shook his head, laughing at us, before grinning and leaning over to whisper in Feyre’s ear. Cassian made a big show of talking loudly, distracting our Fae hearing from listening in on the question. In his best (worst) Rhys impression he nearly shouted, “Feyre darling, who is the most handsome High Lord? Who is the smartest High Lord?”

I was laughing so hard by the end of it, that I went to slap my hand on the couch but instead met a solid surface. I glanced my eyes up, wiping the tears threatening to spill over with my other hand, and froze as I realized where my hand was. Azriel looked at me, amused, as I flushed and went to retract my hand from his extremely muscular knee. Quicker than I could process, his hand flashed out and pressed mine against his knee again, a silent command in his eyes to leave my hand there.

“What are you doing? The others will-” I whispered harshly but he cut me off, subtly nodding to the wine that was still being passed around.

“They won’t see anything we don’t want them to.”

“That doesn’t answer what you’re doing.”

“Just play the game, Peach.”

“Definitely Cassian,” Feyre answered, saving me any more whispers with the Shadowsinger. I kept my gaze focused on her and Rhys as I felt Azriel slowly take my hand off of his knee and intertwined our fingers between us. I could feel the velvety shadows wrap around our hands, hiding them from our intoxicated friends.

Groans of frustration sounded as the quarter landed on heads, meaning none of us were going to know what Feyre was asked. Rhys, however, looked satisfied enough with her answer as he leaned back, crossing his arms and resting one ankle on his knee.

Feyre grinned deviously at Mor and leaned in to whisper in her ear, gesturing at everyone to talk or make sounds. Mocking Cassian, I did my best to imitate Feyre, “Mor, remember what you told me about wingspans?” Everyone burst out laughing and I grinned at them.

Apparently, Feyre’s question had been a short one because Mor instantly replied, “Oh Peach for sure.”

My eyes widened but she winked at me. “Do you guys even remember my actual name?”

Everyone shook their heads and Mor said, “Something with an H? Or maybe it was an M?”

“It’s only ‘cause you’re sweet as peaches and definitely not for the time you threw up peach wine everywhere,” Cassian slurred, and I wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or flattered.

“Anyways,” Feyre said, clearing her throat and uncovering the coin on the back of her hand, “Tails!”

Mor sat back, unphased, and said, “Our High Lady asked me who I thought the most innocent in bed is.”

My mouth dropped open as everyone looked at me, questioning the validity of her answer. I gathered my thoughts and mustered a wink, squeezing Azriel’s hand that still gently held mine in the confines of his shadows. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Morrigan?”

Mor threw her head back in laughter before turning to Amren. She whispered in her ear and Amren answered, “Rhysand, clearly. The rest of you are idiots.”

Despite the intrigue of her clarification, Mor’s question once again remained a secret. Amren and Varian discussed in hushed tones before she leaned into Cassian. I saw Cas tense, not sure how to act with Amren that close to his jugular, I’m sure.

Cassian’s let out a wry grin before pointedly saying, “Feyre.”

Amren’s smile was nothing less than feline as she tossed the coin and it came up heads. Cass’s head snapped up in a panic and he expertly avoided Feyre and Rhys’ lines of sight.

“Well, brother?” Rhys asked, teasing him.

“She asked who was the most scared of her.”

Feyre’s mouth formed a tight line, “Well then I’m the smartest one of us here. We should all be terrified.”

Rhys just nodded in support of his High Lady and I was inclined to agree with them both. Amren was by far the scariest of us, even if she wasn’t quite otherwordly anymore.

Cass, though drunk, quickly rushed to Azriel’s side to ask him something. I leaned far enough away that I wouldn’t hear the question and smiled at Nesta.

Azriel squeezed my hand before answering, “Elain.”

I quickly pulled my hand out of his, ignoring the pain and question that crossed his face. I had forgotten about his feelings for Elain in this whole game we had been playing. Or maybe I was right and he wasn’t playing a game - I was just reading into things.

The coin came up heads and I couldn’t hide my disappointment. Maybe knowing the question could have… No, I was delusional. Azriel was nothing more than my friend.

But as he leaned in close to my ear, my thoughts wandered back to his strong arms caging me in against the wall. My heart began beating faster and I was thankful for the amount of alcohol our friends had consumed so they couldn’t hear it.

“Forgive me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Cass only asked me which Archeron sister I think would have the most suitors in Prythian. And considering two are mated…”

I relaxed, letting the tension leave my shoulders, and melted into his side. He discreetly brought a hand to my back, his thumb rubbing small circles there. “Besides, we have our own game going, don’t we, Peach?”

I nodded and smiled, relieved that I hadn’t been reading too much into what had happened a few weeks ago. I knew this was a game and just like every other game night, I was determined to win.

“Good girl. Now, tell the group who you think the most likely to face Bryaxis without flinching is.”

He pulled away and I blinked at him. That was a surprisingly easy question considering how he prefaced it. I narrowed my eyes and he just softly chuckled in response.

“Amren. No question,” I said to the group, laughing as the female’s eyes narrowed in warning at me.

Fortunately or unfortunately, it was tails.

“He asked who would face Bryaxis without flinching,” I shrugged. “We’ve already established how scary Amren is.” Laughter spread throughout the room as Varian stared up at Amren with an infinite amount of admiration and amusement.

I looked at Nesta, winked, took a big swig from the bottle in front of me, and said, “Let’s make this game a little more interesting, I know you guys can do better with these questions.”

Nesta, for her part, looked a little concerned, not sure how far I was going to take this. I leaned forward and whispered, “Who are you most likely to invite to join you and Cassian for an evening?”

She flushed before shooting me the most murderous look I had seen. I already knew the answer - she had divulged it one girls’ night (conveniently when Feyre couldn’t make it) and the topic had come up after a few too many glasses of wine.

“This is a stupid game,” she said to the group.

“Oh, come on, Nes. It can’t be that bad,” Cassian said from his position next to Az.

“Fine. Azriel.”

I smirked in reply flipping the coin and catching it. I peeked under my hand. Fuck. Tails. No way I would survive if I forced Nesta to say the question out loud. She’d kill me here and now.

“Heads,” I said confidently, tossing the coin to Nesta before anyone could see it.

The game went on like that, though the questions didn’t get much more interesting based on what was revealed. I was increasingly tipsy from the small sips of wine I’d consumed and the mesmerizing way Azriel’s hand wandered my back, tracing invisible shapes on it. I was playing tricks of my own - making sure my shirt was pulled down whenever he looked over, laughing and returning my hand to his thigh, but higher each time. By the time it was Az’s turn again I was about ready to crawl into his lap and beg for him to take me up to his room.

His shadows covered up his ministrations on my back as the focus of the room was on us. They rode up the shirt I was wearing and tickled my skin, sending a shiver up my spine. I could feel him smirk against my ear.

“Angel, who are you most likely to take to bed out of this group?”

I gave him an exasperated look and whispered back, “You, Azriel.”

“Oh no, not just to me - answer to the group.”

Fine. If he wanted to keep playing, I’d keep playing. “Why you, Azzy boy!” I shouted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, careful of the wings, and drawing a fingernail down the front of his chest.

His face didn’t shift an inch but this close to him I could feel the shiver that wracked through his body. I moved closer, making sure to push my chest forward the slightest bit, just to snag his attention.

Rhysand laughed as he flipped the coin, seemingly ignorant to the tension between Azriel and me growing thicker with every moment that passed.

A chorus of “Tails!” rang out as the coin landed. I snapped my head to Rhys, who held out a hand triumphantly, the coin sitting heads up in his palm.

I could feel the blush warming my cheeks as all eyes turned to Azriel to announce the question to the group. This game suddenly became a bit too real, I made to stand but Azriel’s answer stopped me.

“I asked who was the most likely to win at the next game night,” he said, ever the picture of the calm, cool, and collected Shadowsinger.

My mouth parted slightly at his answer and once everyone began demanding I ask Nesta another question, Az sent a wink my way.

I turned to the eldest Archeron and quickly came up with a plan. I leaned close and said, “Nes, will you do me favor?”

She nodded, a mischievous smile gracing her face as if I was asking a particularly intriguing question.

“Make up an excuse - any - for this little party to end early. I’ll owe you one.”

She looked at me in confirmation and whispered, “Whatever that coin lands on, just say heads. Trust me.”

I nodded subtly and waited for her to say a name. Soon enough a proud, “Cassian” rang through the room.

I flipped the coin, shielding it from the prying eyes of the Spymaster next to me, and said, “Heads.”

More groaning followed it but quieted down once Nesta stood and passed Azriel and me to crouch near Cassian. She whispered something to him and he immediately stood and scooped her into his arms before marching out of the room like he was on a mission. I had no interest in knowing what she told him the question had been.

Feyre, predictably, took that as a cue to leave as well, standing from the couch and dragging Rhys out behind her, Elain following behind to accompany them to the River House. Soon enough, Mor and Amren left to head to Rita’s, not wanting to stick around after everyone had left.

With everyone sufficiently cleared out, I turned to Azriel, “Now what was that question, Shadowsinger?”

He let out a chuckle that sent electricity blooming in my chest and said, “You clever, wicked female.”

I reached behind my back to remove his hand from where it sat, instead twining it with mine. I stood and used my other hand to push him down by his shoulder when he tried to stand too. He tilted his head in confusion and glanced towards the stairs in a question.

I shook my head. “You know, Azriel,” I purred his name and didn’t miss the way his hand gripped mine tighter, “I know your spy skills are legendary but maybe your counting is off.”

I smiled down at him, doing my best to look sultry, and continued, “Feyre, Rhysand, and Elain left for the River House. Nesta and Cassian left for gods know where. Varian, Amren, and Mor went to Rita’s.”

“I can count, Peaches,” he all but growled.

I took my hand off his shoulder, placing it instead on the top of his head. I gripped his hair in my hand, pulling enough that a small noise escaped the back of his throat, and swung a leg over his thigh, moving to straddle him. I used the grip on his hair to not-so-gently guide his head to the side. I paused, debating my next move. He just sat, waiting for whatever I was going to do or say. His body was tense from all the teasing but I could tell he was also nervous about taking this further, about how far I was willing to go.

The hesitancy and softness in his eyes decided my next move. I licked a clean strip from his collarbone and up his neck. His hands found purchase on my waist immediately, pulling me against his chest. A breathy giggle left my lips as I carded my hand through his hair and leaned down to whisper, “Then you realize we have the house all to ourselves.”

That snapped whatever leash head put himself on.

One second I was on his lap as he sat on the couch, the next I was pressed up against a wall. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, one hand still in his hair and my other arm resting lazily on his shoulder. His large hands were under me, holding me to him and creating delicious friction between us.

His lips ghosted over mine and I tilted my head up, craning my neck and offering myself to him.

When he still hadn’t kissed me, I frowned and opened my eyes.

He was watching me intently, those hazel eyes nearly black and lidded with lust but glinting with mischief.

“One final game, angel,” he whispered.

I quirked an eyebrow, my mind already fuzzy with his proximity and the thoughts of what he was going to do.

“I’m not going to kiss you until you’re begging me to.”

“And if I get you to beg first?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a game unless the playing field was even.”

I smirked, racking my brain for ways to get the Shadowsinger at my mercy.

I grinned as the idea came to me. Using my arm that was resting on his shoulder, I ran a teasing nail across the top of his wing.

I gasped as it caused his hips to grind into me, grasping his hair tighter in my fingers, and throwing my head back against the wall.

“You wicked thing. I forgot you don’t play fair. Lucky for you, neither do I,” he murmured into my ear.

I felt one of his large hands move from my ass to my throat, but he didn’t put pressure on it. Instead, he took a thumb and gently swiped it to my chin, using it to turn my head to one side.

A kiss pressed to the left side of my mouth, accompanied by a roll of his hips into me. He turned my head to the other side with his thumb and repeated the action.

It was embarrassing how quickly I was ready to fold. My breath had already quickened, my core clenching around nothing, practically screaming at me to swallow my pride and beg.

But then my mind registered just how hard the Spymaster was against me, how rapid his chest was heaving, and the desperate hold his other hand maintained on my ass. I could break him. I would break him.

After his chaste kisses on the side of my mouth failed, he seemed to change tactics, moving instead to my neck. I panted as he sucked marks there, soothing each one with his tongue afterward.

I moaned his name at the same time I grasped his wing, firmer this time.

He groaned against me at the touch. His hips moved in a few quick thrusts into me instead of the teasing ones from earlier.

I realized I was still pressed against the wall as the flat surface dug into my shoulder blades. I also realized just how much clothing separated us - and how I wanted it to be much, much less.

Azriel hadn’t stopped his ministrations on my neck and the hand on my neck had begun a descent towards my bra.

“Az,” I said softly.

A small grunt in response.

“Az,” I said more firmly, but still breathless.

This time a moan.

“Azriel,” I said, grabbing his hair and tugging his face away from my neck.

For a second we sat there, staring at each other and breathing erratically.

He had never looked more intoxicating. His hair was slightly matted from sweat and mussed from me running my hands through it. His cool, calm, and collected demeanor was gone and replaced with something much hungrier.

To hell with it -

“Please,” to my surprise we gasped it out at the same time.

A grin and laugh from both of us.

“A tie, then?” I asked him.

“A tie.”

And with that his lips met mine, gentle, exploring. Fireworks went off all throughout me and I wanted nothing more than to kiss him like this for the rest of my life.

In between increasingly desperate kisses, I managed to tell him, “Upstairs.”

He took the hint, pulling me away from the wall, and starting the walk to the stairs.

I kissed him faster, asking for more from him, as we got closer to the stairs. He chuckled against my lips at my impatience though it changed into a moan as I lifted up and ground myself against him.

“What happened to having the house to ourselves?” He asked, jokingly.

“Azriel, I would let you fuck me on any and every surface in this house if you wanted. All you have to do is ask,” he pressed a hard kiss to my lips at that and I pulled away, breathless, to finish, “But… I want to take my time with you. I want to have all of you and I want to savor every moment… Preferably on a soft bed.”

He didn’t say anything, just captured my lips with his own, and continued the path to the stairs.

Clothing was shed and thrown over the railing as we ascended. My legs doing the majority of the work to keep me upright as first my shirt came off and then his.

I only had time to ogle once we made it to his room and he tossed me onto the bed. I giggled as I bounced and settled on my back, propping myself up on my elbows, as he remained standing at the foot of the bed.

I shook my head to get my hair off my shoulders and onto my back, relishing the way it tickled my bare skin. I took him in - the ever-imposing Shadowsinger of the Night Court, chest rising and falling slower now, muscles lining his torso and contracting as he slowly untied and stepped out of his pants.

His golden skin had a sheen of sweat already on it. His wings flared out as his eyes raked over my body, even though I still had my bra and pants on. I blushed at the intensity of his gaze, realizing I was semi-naked in front of one of my best friends.

As if he sensed my hesitation, he slowly climbed on the bed and settled over me. I laid back, moving my hands to explore the expanse of his broad shoulders and chest, using a finger to trace the tattoos that decorated his skin. He shivered under my touch and I grinned up at him, only slightly balking at his beautiful face positioned above mine.

“Where’d all that confidence go, Peach?” He murmured, bracing himself on one arm while bringing the other between us. His scarred hand cupped one of my cheeks and there was no trace of the desperation from earlier in his eyes or face.

I smiled bashfully, stopping my roaming hands on his shoulders. “You’re… so beautiful,” I said softly. “And I… well, I - you’re one of my best friends, and as much as I want this, want you, I don’t want you to think poorly of me.” I finished with a frown.

His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked at me as if I just said I wanted to go visit Bryaxis.

“Sweetheart,” the hand on my cheek moved to brush the hair out of my face, then trailed down a shoulder, “I have wanted you from the moment I saw you. And not just in my bed. You.”

I couldn’t stop the childish grin that spread across my lips, “Really?”

He smiled back, “Really.”

“Why don’t you prove just how much you wanted me, then?” I winked at him.

“There she is,” he grinned and I flushed with arousal and pride at his praise.

Without saying anything else, I put one hand on the back of his head and brought my lips to his. I wrapped my legs back around his waist and his free arm traveled down to my hip and gave me a teasing squeeze.

I moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer to me. Somehow my head was racing with thoughts and aware of every movement from both of us while also being completely empty and content to just let him do whatever he wanted to me.

I lifted my hips as his fingers toyed with the waist of my pants, giving him my approval to remove them. His lips didn’t leave mine as he helped them off of me. I relished the feeling of his warm, hard chest against mine as I arched to help kick them off completely.

Left only in our underthings, I pulled away enough to ask while looking behind him, “Can you lay on your back with those things or ?”

He nodded, wrapping an arm around my hips and flipping us over until I was settled on his lap. I smiled down at him as I settled my hips, slotting right between where I wanted him most.

I leaned forward, letting my hair fall around us like a curtain, and kissed him. His hand fisted into my hair and I smiled against his lips but purposefully kept my pace slow as I began to rock back and forth on top of him.

His hand that wasn’t in my hair moved to my back to the clasp that prevented my chest from being fully exposed. I nodded against him and he deftly unsnapped it letting it fall then tossing it elsewhere in the room.

He groaned dramatically and lifted his face up in between my breasts. I laughed, tossing my head back, unintentionally arching further into him. The arm wrapped around my back pulled me tighter against his face as he began nipping and licking.

I moaned and reluctantly pulled back. He grunted at the loss of contact but quickly shut up as I began sliding down his body.

I kissed and licked and sucked my way down his chest, making sure to litter it with marks to match the ones I’m sure stood red and purple on my neck.

Words seemed to escape him as I finally ran my nails around the waistband of his underwear. Slowly, I circled them around his hip bones then finally ran them up and down his clothed cock, enjoying the way his hips flew off the bed and into my touch.

I moved my mouth to kiss his hip - one, then the other - then carefully used my teeth to drag his underwear down to his knees. The look in his eyes as I did so was enough to make me rub my thighs together.

I took him into my mouth without any more teasing, knowing he was losing what little patience he had. His hands instantly found my hair and I moaned around him as he tugged it gently.

Murmurs of my name and praise reached my ears as I continued working him. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Just like that,” he encouraged.

Every word that left his mouth shot straight through me and to what I’m sure were my already ruined underwear.

I kept going until his thrusts into my mouth became more forceful and I had to pull off for air. I couldn’t contain the moan I let out as I looked at the sight in front of me.

Azriel had his head thrown back but lifted it up at the loss of contact and the sound that ripped from my chest. His hazel eyes were nearly completely black under his hooded lids, his face was flushed a beautiful pink color on top of his golden skin, and his chest was heaving as sweat coated it.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” I meant to think but instead it rushed from my mouth in a breathy whisper.

He seemed to flush a bit before smirking and grabbing me gently by the shoulders and guiding me up his body. In a quick move, he had my back pressed against the mattress and his hard chest pressed against mine.

He rested on his forearms above me and brought his face close to my ear.

“Let’s see if you taste as good as you look, angel.”

I shivered in anticipation as he worked his way down my body, removing my bra on the way before reaching my hips.

He slowly stripped me of the final barrier of clothing between us and before he could do anything I put one hand on his shoulder. Sensing my hesitation, he looked up with concerned eyes.

“I - I’ve never… I don’t,” I sighed, unsure how to form the words.

“You’ve never had a male go down on you?” He asked gently, quirking a brow.

“Oh, no. I definitely have I just have never… enjoyed it much, yknow? And I just don’t want to… disappoint you,” I blushed and looked anywhere in the room but at him.

“Sweetheart, you clearly haven’t been bringing the right males to your bed.”

He shifted so he was above me again and took my chin in his thumb. When he turned my head towards him and I met his eyes I was surprised to see nothing but adoration and question shining there, no judgment or teasing. “Do you trust me?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Words, Peach.”

“Yes, Azriel. I trust you.”

“Then let me make you feel good. Let me ruin all other males for you. Let me make you mine.”

My brain had left me so long ago that I couldn’t gather my thoughts enough to tell him that I already was his. I wanted to shout that he already had ruined other males and even if we stopped here, I’d probably live the rest of my very long life in celibacy because nothing would live up to how he’d already treated me. So I just nodded dumbly and watched as he reassumed his position near the foot of the bed.

He smirked at me as he put one of my legs over his shoulder and held the other spread with one of his large hands. He licked a single stripe up my core and my hips jolted off the bed.

He looked up at me and for the second time that night, I moaned at just the sight of him.

He smirked and ran a finger of his free hand along my slit before bringing it to his mouth. “As sweet as peaches.”

Cauldron boil me, this male was trying to kill me.

I couldn’t get out a retort before he returned to his mission. Once I pushed past the original discomfort of having his face pressed against my most intimate parts, I realized he truly wasn’t like what I had experienced before.

Every flick of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers, and all the presses at my clit were meant only to bring me as much pleasure as possible and, slowly, it began to.

I let the rest of my body relax and focused only on how good he was making me feel. I went to thread my hands into his hair but found my wrists encircled by his shadows. “Az?”

“No touching, sweetheart. Your wicked hands will distract me.”

My mouth gaped open as his shadows tugged my hands above my head and held them there. Az laid a forearm against my stomach to keep my hips from moving and went back to work. And I realized that his calling in life wasn’t to be a Shadowsinger or a Spymaster but instead to be right here in between my legs and I’d do anything in my power to keep him there.

But my lust-addled brain disagreed and realized I was much, much too close to falling over that edge and I wanted much more of him before that.

“Az,” I moaned out and he doubled his efforts.

“No, Az, please,” I half-panted, half-groaned.

I finally managed to tell him, “I want to come with you, on you. Please, Az.”

He stopped and looked up at me. His face was covered in my juices and his hair was sticking up in odd directions. “Are you sure, Peaches?”

“100%.”

He grunted and moved above me, connecting our mouths again. I moaned into his mouth as I felt him position himself at my entrance.

“Are you sure?” he echoed.

I nodded fervently against his mouth. I held my breath in anticipation but nothing happened. I snapped open my eyes just in time to feel a slight pressure on my throat.

I looked into Azriel’s hazel eyes and realized with one hand on himself, passing him back and forth between the wetness gathered between my thighs, and the other holding him above me…

I tore my gaze away from his and instead looked as best I could at my chest and neck. His shadows coated my entire upper body and some pressed against my throat. I threw my head back and whimpered as it pressed harder and harder.

Az said, “How many times do I need to tell you to use your words?”

“I’m sorry, Azriel. Please, yes, gods, I’m ready. I’m sure.”

“There’s my good girl, Peaches.”

In one fluid motion, he was seated inside me with his hips pressed against mine. I hissed against the initial sting and his shadows hurriedly worked to find the most tender and ticklish spots of me to touch and tease. I let out a little laugh at their antics which caused my entire body to relax into Azriel’s strong arms.

“You can move,” I whispered.

He shook his head against my shoulder, sending his hair tickling against my collarbone.

I tried to assure him, “No, really, Azriel. I’m fine, you can move.”

Again he shook his head but this time he ground out, “If I move the fun will be over before it begins, sweetheart.”

“Wh-” I started to ask but flushed as I realized what he meant. I really got him that worked up? Me?

“You. Always you. Just for you.”

“Shit, Az. I said that out loud?”

He chuckled, his face still buried into my shoulder. “You did,” he pulled back and looked at me, scanning my face and body with his eyes, “And you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this exact moment.” He interrupted himself with a sharp thrust that had my eyes rolling back in my head. “Of everything that I would do once I finally got you in my bed,” another deep thrust. “And how beautiful you would look on my cock as you screamed my name,” and with that, he groaned and began thrusting into me at a pace fast enough that I thought the bed would break.

I just moaned along with him, his name, right into his ear, as he said, and grounded myself by digging my nails into his shoulders. That seemed to spur him on even further as he thrust harder, deeper, hungrier.

Over and over and over our bodies met and I felt nothing but the pleasure and intimacy of being so close to him and having him dragging over every nerve that existed in my body.

I couldn’t keep track of which of my movements were on purpose and which my body just did in response to how godsdamned good Azriel looked and felt. Why had we waited so long to do this?

I shook the thought from my head and instead sent a prayer up to the Mother for that silly idea during Mario Kart that led to this exact moment.

Azriel panted above me, his shadows circling the both of us, and I could feel the toe-curling, ab-clenching orgasm approaching.

“Talk to me, Az,” I forced out to the usually quiet and stoic Shadowsinger, suddenly worried about what was going through his head and if he was enjoying himself as much as I was.

He pulled out completely and flipped me onto my stomach before entering me again. I felt his tongue caress the curve of my ear as he ground into me from behind.

“You want to hear just how crazy you’re driving me? Do you want to hear about hard you make me? Or do you want to hear just how perfect you feel around me? How incredible your ass looks from here?”

I couldn’t respond. All I could do was moan as his words washed over me.

“That’s it, love. It’s okay, let go. Come for me, peaches.”

So I did.

He followed a few thrusts later, moaning my name in my ear. My real name. None of the sweethearts, angels, Peachs, or anything else. He came for me.

It was almost enough to make me come again. Almost. I felt his delicious weight on my back as he shuddered through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

My brain wanted to shut off and fall asleep but I wouldn’t let it. I forced myself to stay awake as I felt him leave the bed and then return. I let out a shocked gasp as he grabbed my ankles and, somehow with his Fae or Illyrian strength, flipped me onto my back again.

He let out a smirk at my surprise and put those strong arms to work cleaning me up, leaving kisses in the wake of the rag he had retrieved, and whispering sweet nothings to me. When he was finished, he returned the dirty rag to the bathroom. I watched with hungry eyes as he walked, naked, back to the bed.

He chuckled as he climbed back into bed, sitting up, and spreading his wings against the headboard. He looked like a god. I was surprised there wasn’t drool leaking from the side of my mouth as my breath hitched at the sight of him. Mine.

He beckoned me with one hand to him and I instantly moved, cuddling up to his side and wrapping an arm around his bare waist.

I looked up at him, admiring his strong jaw and the post-sex haze that softened his features. He must have sensed my stare because he looked down and smiled at me. I smiled back, leaning into his touch as he ran a hand over my hair.

“Round 2?” I asked.

He looked at me with wide eyes, shock and excitement clear on his gorgeous face. “Already?”

“Well, I’d say you deserve a rematch at Mario Kart, wouldn’t you? With no distractions?” I teased with a wink.

Once he realized what I meant, he shook his head and chuckled, “Oh angel, you’re on.”

I couldn’t contain my giggle as he rushed off the bed, quickly pulling on his pants, before leaving the room to grab the stuff for Mario Kart.

#azriel #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #inner circle #night court #acotar smut

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swappwas · 2 years

Text

Couples Chronicles: A Magical Night

It was a warm night in New York City. The Begonia was one of the cities newest luxury restaurants that boasted high class cuisine and an atmosphere of sophistication. Perfect for the long awaited date night of certain married couple.

One of which was Theodore Bishop. A 24, year old with dirty blonde hair, glasses, and a beard he had meant to better prune but was too swamped with work recently to keep it maintained. His work was often very demanding as a library administrator who was in charge of not one but several college universities across the east coast. He had recently left a comfy position in Massachusetts after finally settling down.

He had hoped tonight would’ve been a nice escape, and opportunity to finally spend some time with his husband outside of late night takeout and sitcoms.

“What the hell do you need to do to get some service hear?! I swear the one time we choose to go out for dinner-“

“Relax Theo, someone we’ll get to us eventually.”

Victor Trujillo was 23, and couldn’t be more his husbands opposite when it came to attitude and temperament. He was for the most part easygoing and worked as receptionist at one of the top modeling agency’s in the city. Many would mistake him for a lost model in his own right. His hair was often a medium length crown of waves that other men would love to run their fingers through. Vic wore his wedding ring proudly, but that didn’t stop some playful flirting at times from others, much to Theodore’s frustration

“Vic, I had these reservations booked for a month. You know how hard it is to work around both our schedules for a night like this! Pft, serves me right for expecting a nice dinner with my husband.”

“Hey you know I didn’t mean it like that- and look, our waiter is here.”

The waiter had his black hair slicked back into a sort of pompadour. Roughly around the age of the couple.

“Terribly sorry, we’re a little understaffed tonight.” The waiter says as he refilled the table’s water. “Hate to have kept such handsome men waiting.” He added, eyes lingering on Vic.

“That’s no problem, I was just lost in the menu anyway.” Vic replied in with his usual smooth bravado.

“Vic I told you try to brand from Milan! I had some in my last business trip and it was excellent.”

“Haha I remember Theo, but I’m just not sure about such a fancy brand is all.”

The waiter sensed some tension and smiled, quite the couple these two made.

“Well in that case, might I make a recommendation. It’s the least I can do after make you wait Mr- “

“The name’s Victor, my friends call me Vic, this is my husband Theo.”

“Theodore.” Vic’s husband astutely corrected.

“Right, well, I call him Theo.” Vic chuckled.

“Well, Vic, I feel as if a man such as yourself might be better suited for our red wines from upstate.”

The waiter promptly turned and picked up one of the bottles resting on a neighboring empty table. As he turned to face Vic once again, Theodore noticed he oh so subtly licked his lips.

“Goes down smooth and has quite the full body flavor, perfectly suited for a man of your caliber.”

Theodore spoke up. “If that stuff is fairly local it must be from Jersey. Vic the Milan brand is fine.”

“Come on Theo, I love hearing about this fancy drink. You were saying?” Vic said, urged the waiter to continue.

“With pleasure, as I was saying, not many know properly how to appreciate a full body as luscious as…” the waiter hesitated, his eyes were undeniably fixated in Vic now.

“… this particular vintage. Definitely in need of some attention wouldn’t you say?”

Before Vic could even reply, Theodore spoke.

“Actually I’ve had a change of heart, we’d love to sample that vintage. Though before that, I’d appreciate a palette cleansers and since you’re so woefully understaffed, my condolences, may we please have some bread and sparkling waters prior to that. Thank you.”

The waiter grinned and nodded as he began to excuse himself to go fetch the requested items. Before he left, he added one last comment.

“Oh and Victor, as you browse might I suggest the Yorkshire sausage for your entree? It’s simply heavenly.” The waiter licked his lips and winked.

Vic took one look at Theodore and knew what type of night this would be…

He held up his menu and began to speak in a hushed his voice.

“Theo, you’re not thinking about um- doing something here right? Weren’t you looking forward to a quiet dinner?”

“I wasn’t at first but this waiter is getting on my nerves.” Theodore replied, no doubt already scheming.

“Babe please, um, maybe that’s all just a rehearsed thing he does for all the guests! Just trying to really push the wine?? Let me just order as soon as he gets back… um let me see here... what about the satay chicken breasts? How’s that sound?”

Vic sad attempts at diversions fell of deaf ears as Theo noticed the waiter from a distance. He was already returning, tray in hand. “Oh now he wants to be attentive!” Theo thought to himself.

Just as the waiter was half way back, and in the midst of passing tables, Theo to enter a hushed whisper.

“This waiter has been flirting with you all night, we both can tell…so he’ll just be on the receiving end of my spell.”

Vic knew it was a lost cause after hearing his husband start to rhyme.

“Now I know using my magic makes you nervous, but someone has to make it clear that we did not receive good service.”

The room became slightly darker, looks like Theo was feeling theatrical tonight. The other restaurant guests and staff were oblivious, only the couple and the still distant waiter noticed something amiss with the atmosphere as Theo continued…

“Now it’s starting to feel a bit warm, let’s see what under the top half of that uniform.”

And with those words, the waiters vest vanished as his undershot began to rise, exposing his pecs for all to see. He was speechless, and was almost immobile from the shock!

However, it seemed as if no one on the restaurant even noticed…

Despite the miraculous event unfolding, no patron even bothered to look up from their conversations or meals.

“Alright Theo I think he’s good and frightened… lesson learned.” Vic said, hoping his husband would leave it at that.

But Theodore wanted to finish what he started.

“Nice pecs, for a waiter who’s so rude, better keep that hair off the food.”

Suddenly, the waiter felt an unbearably prickly sensation permeate throughout in his chest. He stumbled back as he tried to scratch at himself, almost dropping the tray he was holding in the process. He peered down in horror as his pecs seemed to quickly become engulfed in hair. Each new follicle felt like an insect bite. It was a fitting sensation gives that his pecs began to expand as well.

Soon enough, the waiter’s undershirt replaced with a tank top. The flimsy straps struggled to keep his new hairy globes contained.

As the restaurant regained it’s usual lighting, the waiter attempted to hide his changed chest behind his now empty tray. Theo didn’t even have time to take admire his magical handiwork before the now transformed man ran into the employee lounge.

“There. Hopefully we’ll get a different waiter soon enough.” Theo smiled.

“Well I guess there’s no changing your mind.” Vic solemnly said while getting out of his seat.

“And where do you think you’re going? I’m sure another waiter will be here soon enough.”

“It’s nothing, just gotta take a leak in the restroom.”

“Oh, before you go Vic.” Theo grinned before clearing his throat.

“Steer clear of the urinals because other men might stare… and you might not like how well you compare.”

The rather impressive cock outline on Vic’s slacks then vanished without a trace. Seems like he had just been shrunk down there.

Vic rolled his eyes. “And here I thought I wasn’t going to be the one getting changed tonight.”

“It’s just a precaution in case that waiter wasn’t the only one around here tonight with wandering eyes.” Theo said before returning to his menu.

Vic simply sighed, hopefully his Warlock husband would set things right by tomorrow morning…

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lale-txt · 2 years

Text

♡ DILFS DILFS DILFS: (n.sfw) exhibitionism & voyeurism w/ Roger, Rayleigh & afab!reader

a/n: requested by ME! ha! if you know me, you also know how much i struggle to write things for me so... i created a whole event around tricking my brain into writing for myself and i guess it worked? gotta start the event with a bang and my favorite men, i hope you enjoy this as much as i did! can't wait to write all the other requests waiting for me ♡

contains: ns.fw under the cut, afab!reader (no pronouns, 'cunt' used twice to describe gentials), exhibitionism & voyeurism: fucking Roger with Rayleigh watching (everyone is consenting to this), unprotected sex (no pregnancy or breeding implied), fingering, dirty talk, light anal play, vaginal penetration, cockwarming

word count: 3.2k

Roger was always the life of a party. His laugh was the loudest and the brightest, making you fall for him over and over again despite you two being in an established relationship since forever; after all this time he still gave you weak knees and butterflies, making every kiss feel like a dream. Whenever you were near he would wrap an arm around you, holding you close as he continued his chatter with your crewmates; and if you were apart his gaze would always seek yours, his eyes twinkling a little with adoration. There was no doubt Roger was the love of your life and you were his.

Roger Pirates never needed a reason to celebrate and tonight was no exception. The air was filled with the sound of sea shanties and loud laughter, glasses clinking together and the cabin boys arguing loudly until Rayleigh made them shut up by making them sit as far apart as possible, Buggy still foaming with anger while Shanks just made faces towards him. You rub Rayleigh’s back as he appears next to you; he was pinching the bridge of his nose with a bottle of booze in his hand. Rayleigh was the only person on the Oro Jackson who had some kind of authority over the kids – everyone else was either just as goofy as them (you glance over to Roger) or placed their bets on them whenever they started throwing hands, cheering on them from the side.

You liked Rayleigh a lot; the first mate was nothing but kind to you, even more since Roger and you made things official. There were many seas Rayleigh and Roger had sailed together, long before your path crossed with theirs and became one; you knew the bond they shared was just as strong as yours with the captain, if not even stronger. You liked how they balanced each other out and you admired the blind trust Rayleigh put in Roger, always having his back, quite literally. Rayleigh regularly kept you company when Roger was running off the second you docked on a new island and he let you cry all the tears into his shirt you didn’t want Roger to see when you learned about his illness – even though Rayleigh must be hurting as much as you did.

The party continued until the crew mates one by one either said their goodnites or simply fell asleep right on deck, unbothered by the few people still laughing and chattering loudly, your lover in the very middle of them. He was the heart of this ship after all. But he also had yours and right now it was aching for him, throbbing in your chest, longing for his touch in the privacy of his cabin. You were needy and the burning desire in your core couldn’t be ignored any longer; you wanted to end the night with an orgasm and sloppy kisses and sleep rushing over you as you lay on his chest.

Rayleigh winked at you before he went below deck, your deep sighs and thighs rubbed together for some friction all night long haven’t gone unnoticed by him – and he knew best how hard it was to pull the captain away from a good party. When Roger gets up to refill his glass, you sense your chance and corner him between huge boxes of wine, shielding you from the eyes of others, tucking on the sleeves of his shirt as you look at him with pleading eyes.

“Let’s go to bed, Rog. It’s late and I don’t want to fall asleep without you.” “Don’t you know the captain always leaves last, my darling?” He cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he laughs softly. “A sinking ship, yes. Not parties though.” You grab your lover by the collar of his pink shirt and pull him down to your lips until they almost touch, locking your eyes with his. “Especially when your partner is this wet for you.”

Roger hums when you guide his big hand past the waistband of your pants, letting him feel how soaked your underwear already was. Your needy mewls get muffled by his tongue slipping in your mouth, giving you a kiss that makes you crave more, your fingers digging into his chest. You could hear the voices of your crewmates chattering and laughing as he rubs you over the thin fabric, his plump fingers tracing the outlines of your folds before he gives your clit some extra attention. You can feel your legs almost giving in under his touch and cling onto his shirt as you moan quietly in his open mouth.

“So greedy…”, he growls and you can feel him smiling against your lips, his big mustache tickling you. You whine when he withdraws his hand; you’ve patiently waited all night for this and the absence of his touch just felt cruel at this point. Before you could complain any further, Roger already scooped you up with ease and threw you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing, his calloused hand on your ass, squeezing it tight. Accompanied by the laughter of your remaining crew mates, Roger wishes them a good night before he makes his way towards his cabin, carrying you through the gloomy hallway, not letting you down before you reach the door.

Immediately you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into another deep kiss, your breath hot and heavy as his hands wander underneath your shirt, exploring every inch underneath. You mewl when he rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingertips, his cheeky grin getting wider with every lewd sound he charms out of you.

“Should I fuck you right here in the hallway? On deck you didn’t seem to mind an audience…”, Roger asks as he teasingly plays with the waistband of your pants, knowing too well how you loved the thrill of being caught; countless times before he had his fingers inside of you in crowded bars or ate you out in a back alley, people passing by only a few meters away from you as he made you see stars with his tongue alone.

As tempting as it sounds, tonight you wanted Roger without any rush, you’ve waited so patiently, there was no way you’d be satisfied by a quickie – you deserved to be railed until the sun was rising again and even beyond that. You let your hands run over Roger’s hairy chest, tracing every ab with your fingertips while you two share hungry kisses, his growing erection pressing against you. Having his full attention feels like a gift that you couldn’t wait to unwrap, your fingers already nestling on his sash. Roger picks you up one more time, letting you wrap your legs around his hips as he reaches for the door knob, not breaking the kiss you two shared.

The two of you stumble inside the dimly lit room, hands all over each other, yours buried in his black hair as you moan in his mouth. Roger kicks the door close behind him, his fingers digging deep into your flesh as he carries you to the bed. The tension is almost unbearable, every second he wasn’t inside you already feels like a waste of time; you kick off your shoes as he takes off your shirt and helps you out of your pants, humming at the sight of your lingerie. Roger is a man who appreciates a nice surprise underneath, though he is also quick to tear it apart in the heat of the moment and tonight was no exception.

Impatiently you remove his pink shirt that luckily came unbuttoned already, fingers fumbling with his sash until he pulls it together with his pants down himself, leaning in for another deep kiss as he takes your hand and places it on the throbbing bulge in his boxers. You get dizzy from the thought of him stretching you wide open; after all this time you still felt the excitement like it was the very first time. You spread your legs apart for him, presenting him the dripping mess he made of you and making space for his tall figure pinning you down on the mattress, his big thigh pressed against your aching core.

“Mhm… feel how hard I am for you, my love?”, he mutters against your lips, rubbing his clothed cock against your palms for some friction. “Turn around and spread those cheeks for me, will you?”

Then, a slight cough from the other end of the room.

“Got the wrong room again, captain?”

Rayleigh’s amused voice from behind the desk makes the two of you snap back into reality. Roger is quick to throw a blanket over your naked body as he laughs out loud, unimpressed by the sudden company while you feel your cheeks flush, your heart jumping in your chest. The two of you were so in the heat of the moment, neither of you had sensed Rayleigh’s presence when you stumbled inside, having eyes for each other only.

“Shit, Ray. Sorry for the intrusion. You see…” “Oh, I see very clearly, Roger.” The first mate adjusts his glasses and shuts close the log book he was writing prior to the intrusion, his eyes mustering Roger up and down. Rayleigh had a sly smile upon his lips, clearly entertained by the whole situation and you were thankful he avoided your gaze to not fluster you any further. Though some part of you kinda wished he’d take you all in…

Roger sits down on the bed next to you, pulling you close and kissing your temples in apology, still laughing and rock hard, the outline of his cock clearly showing in his tight underwear. You can’t help but notice the way Rayleigh’s eyes are lingering on it, with curiosity and… hunger? You press yourself closer against the captain, feeling his warmth and his heartbeat against you.

“We’ll be gone in a second, sorry again, Rayleigh.” Roger laughs and presses a kiss against your lips that you respond with a soft hum, visibly calming down under his touch. One thing you always loved about Roger was how relaxed he was in every situation, just laughing it off like it was no big deal. So your first mate has seen you eating each other up like the love drunk fools you are. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Tell the others about it, as if Roger wasn’t the loudest men alive during sex already?

“I mean… be my guests.”

Rayleigh gestures to the bed you were sitting on as he gets up and walks around his desk, leaning against it with arms crossed. Roger tilts your chin up and seeks your gaze, brushing over your lips with his thumb, grinning when you give it a few kitten licks, your hand resting on his lower stomach.

“Want to give old man Rayleigh a show, darling?”, Roger mumbles. “No pressure though. We can also just go next door. To my actual cabin.”

You look over your shoulder to Rayleigh, the blanket still wrapped around you tightly. The first mate smiles at you, as if he was trying to tell you that no matter what was happening in this cabin tonight, nothing would affect your friendship. After all, sharing a cabin wall with Roger meant he was a regular witness of your sex life anyway, and you would lie if you’d say this fine man hadn’t crossed your fantasies often.

You return the smile and let the blanket slip off your shoulders down to the floor where your clothes were scattered. Roger laughs softly when you climb in his lap to lean in for another kiss, his hands immediately wandering over your body. His fingers dig deep in the flesh of your hips and your ass, spreading your cheeks wide open to give Rayleigh an unforgettable view. A few heartbeats later and Roger is sliding two fingers inside of you, making you rock back and forth on them. Your loud moans encourage him to add a third finger and soon your face is buried in the crook of Roger’s neck as you pant heavily, the feeling of being stretched from his fingers alone enough to push you over the edge already.

When he starts circling your clit with his thumb, you can feel the tension building up inside of you, begging for sweet release and you cry out his name as your walls clench hard around him, the orgasm rushing over you violently. Roger doesn’t give you time to catch your breath as he’s pulling his fingers out and muffling your needy mewls by stuffing your mouth with them, letting you lick your wetness off them as he finally takes off his boxers. He gives himself a few lazy strokes before he pulls you down by your hips onto him, making you grind on his hard cock as you straddle him.

“Roger, please… fuck me already…”

Still sensitive from your orgasm you cry out loud when Roger finally lifts you up, rubbing his cock at your tight entrance. He pulls you in for another deep kiss, grinning from the way your fingers dig into his chest as you slowly lower yourself onto him, letting him stretch you wide open inch by inch until he’s all the way inside, hitting your sweet spots. You can feel Roger’s body slightly trembling, possibly gathering every ounce of self-control he had to not start thrusting right away but to let you both get used to the sensation first. You look over your shoulder to Rayleigh who is still leaning against his desk, his pants clearly showing his arousal. He had his eyes fixated on where Roger’s cock was buried deep inside of you, the captain’s hands spreading your ass cheeks wide open for a better view.

“Like what you see, Rayleigh?”, Roger asks as he seeks the gaze of his first mate. “Very”, he responds calmly with a smile, knowing too well what a tease the captain was – but so were you. You lean over to Roger to whisper something in his ear that puts the biggest grin on his face.

“Naughty, so very naughty…”, he coos and gives you a little spank that makes you whine and roll your hips, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you. Only when Roger puts his index finger on your puckered hole, circling around it with soft pressure, you almost lose your composure. You asked him for it and still the sensation always made you blank, even more now with Rayleigh’s eyes lingering on you.

Roger’s sweet moans fill the whole room, he isn’t holding back at all and lets you know how good you made him feel, his constant praise only turning you on more as you bounce up and down on his thick cock. Your kisses are sloppy, drool running down the corner of your mouth every time you pull back to catch your breath and slowly you feel yourself getting close to that edge again. Roger could tell from the way your walls clenched around his cock and snickers, then without a warning grabs and flips you over on your back without pulling out, his broad figure now hovering over you as he stretches you wide open.

The new angle makes you shudder and cry out loud in pleasure, even more when Roger puts your legs on his shoulders and starts circling your sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb; your flustered expression and your heavy moans making it hard for him to not cum right away, but he wanted to fuck you a little longer, turn you into a whole mess until you cried out his name over and over again, you’ve got an audience after all.

“Darling…” Roger’s eyes seek yours, they are warm and full of adoration, taking all of you in. He holds still for a moment, letting you catch your breath as he bends down to plaster your chest and your face with kisses. “Want to show Rayleigh your pretty face when you cum?”

You turn your head to the side and look over to the first mate, who had one hand in his pants, fucking his hollow fist to the rhythm of Roger pounding into you. You nod slowly and hold out one hand for him, gesturing to him to come closer. Rayleigh squats down next to the bed, taking your hand into his, placing a kiss on your fingertips while he gently brushes your hair out of your heated face. Roger laughs softly and the love both men held for you sends warm shivers down your spine; a feeling of safety and devotion connecting the three of you in this very moment.

Rayleigh doesn’t take his eyes off you as Roger continues fucking you so delicately, mumbling soft praise over and over again. You squeeze Rayleigh’s hand with each of Roger’s thrusts, the room filled with the lewd sounds of flesh on flesh.

“Can I come, Roger…?” Your voice is hoarse as you look up to Roger with pleading eyes, one hand resting on his broad chest, nails digging into his skin. He smiles and leans down for another kiss, letting his tongue spell out the answer as he continues circling your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to push you over the edge.

“Taking me so well, my love… now come for me.”

And just like that something inside of you snaps and you laugh and cry at the same time as you fall apart under his cock, your cunt clenching tight around Roger who fucks you through your orgasm under Rayleigh’s gaze; you arch your back as you come undone, wailing out the names of both men while your vision blurres, making you see nothing but stars and a whole new galaxy.

Not holding back any longer, Roger comes as well with a loud groan and more laughter, filling you up to the brim with his thick load, a hot white mess mixed with your own juices dripping out of your cunt with each of his sloppy thrusts. He kisses you over and over again, drawing you back into this sweet reality while he stays inside of you, not wanting to break up the connection you had just yet. You smile against his lips, even more when you feel Rayleigh placing a kiss on top of your head as well, the affection of both men sending waves of pleasure throughout your whole body.

The first mates gazes upon you both with adoration, humbled by being invited into your sacred space. He still holds your hand, his thumb brushing over the back of it as he leans against the bed frame, the silhouette of his throbbing cock still very much visible in his pants. You can’t take your eyes off it, licking your lips slightly as you feel your lover getting hard again inside of you. Roger smirks and reaches for the face of his first mate, tilting his chin up with two fingers.

“Now, Rayleigh… say, can we lend you a hand as well?”

#silvers rayleigh #gol d. roger #one piece x reader #rayleigh x reader #roger x reader #one piece reader insert #purethoughts.exe has stopped working #2K3D event

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