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#but he just doesn't read as bond to me
sleepynegress · 1 month
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The streets are saying Aaron Taylor-Johnson got James Bond yall. And that gets a resounding "meh" from me.
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monstrsball · 2 months
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if you're not making daichi the densest man alive when it comes to romance, you're doing it wrong. i want the most obvious romantic gestures to fly over his head. i want him to be painfully oblivious. i need it to hurt.
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mymarifae · 1 year
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aHA! i have finally figured out why i never jived with the kanade tenma hc. like you know me. THE found family guy. even if i don’t hc it myself i can still have fun watching other people have fun. but this one was always just 1. confusing and 2. not fun for me to see and i could never articulate why but i’ve got it now
the entire problem with Kanade Tenma is as a whole the fandom has a tendency to treat kanade like an orphan. like she has no family, no support system, like she’s all alone and needs to be taken in by the... tenmas... for some reason... (still not sure why the fandom decided she needs to be a tenma like she’s never even met tsukasa or saki. how is she getting over there. if she’s getting taken in by anybody it should be like... the mochizukis) and it’s like... guys. you do realize she’s not an orphan, right? she has family. she has good family. idr all the reasons why her grandma doesn’t live with her, but i’m assuming it’s along the lines of her being too old and frail to properly take care of a child at this point in her life - which is why she set kanade up with that caretaker/housekeeper system. it’s not perfect, but at least she isn’t being left to fend for herself
her dad is alive. just because he had a stroke and is now experiencing vascular dementia doesn’t mean he’s basically dead or that kanade is basically fatherless or something awful like that. (i’m genuinely still not sure what the fuck the game thinks it wrote irt what put kanade’s dad in the hospital but like. it wrote a stroke followed by vascular dementia. that’s what it did. “burnout” my fucking ass) i know at the end of the day kanade tenma is ultimately just a harmless headcanon, but like... please take a moment to think about the message even your most harmless headcanons might send. “if your parent is suffering from dementia and no longer recognizes you... well you don’t have a parent anymore. you need a new one. sorry.” obviously no one intends to say such a horrible thing, but remember that intent <<<<<<< final impression left on your outside audience.
having a family member that you love so much forget about you is a story that needs to be told. the prsk fandom needs to take a step back and just let this be told As It Is. kanade’s family is so, so fucking important to her. she’s only the person she is today because of her parents and all the gratitude and love she feels for them both. like, literally her most recent focus was her realizing how loved she was in light of mafuyu’s mother’s coldness. she knows that she experienced true unconditional love - something that mafuyu’s mom seems incapable of giving her daughter - and she still carries that love and warmth in her heart now. it’s what defines her as a person. it’s what gives her the courage to continue living. it’s why she believes she can save mafuyu and so many other people. she has that memory of what real genuine honest to god unconditional love is, and she’s so fucking determined to share it with the world.
kanade doesn’t... need a “new” family. her family may have suffered multiple tragedies, and it may be fragmented and a little broken, but... it’s hers. i don’t think it’s in good taste to take that away from her and try to “fix” her by placing her in a “better” family. it’s completely unnecessary.
#also someone on twitter said this i think but on the note of how i feel like making kanade a Tenma of all things is kind of out of the blue#like. the tenmas have nothing to do with kanade. i'm sure she'll meet saki and tsukasa at some point but ??#they aren't significant to her development in any way. and they /won't be/#their stories will just never intersect to that extent. trust me.#and because toya tenma (which is canon and true shut up shut up shut up learn how to READ) is often looped in with this hc too like#he doesn't have anything to do with kanade either!!!!!! she doesn't know who he is!! the tenmas are strangers to her.#so like. when you hc Kanade Tenma it feels like you're doing it for the sake of the OTHER characters and not her.#kanade HAS support systems !! she has people she's close with that she could potentially form a familial bond with!#she has niigo! she has honami! she has her literal grandma!#she has her dad even if he doesn't remember who she is. she's still able to talk to him some days and is able to connect with him by-#reliving the past with him. i can't like... express how powerful that scene where he's talking to her about how his wife is pregnant and-#how excited he is to meet their new child and that they're thinking about naming her kanade is. like it's heartbreaking but like#this kind of family dynamic is frequently glossed over in media. like i said it's a story that needs to be told as it is#learn. to explore kanade's relationship with her father and the relationships the game has spent like 200 episodes building up#stop throwing her into a random stranger's house stop thinking of her as an orphan in need of adoption.
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sylphwing · 25 days
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hm. i do not like chilshi 🤔
#sylph.txt#everyone likes to joke abt how much of an epic divorce man chilchuck is#but i dont think he ever even refers to her as his ex-wife. i could b wrong bc it's been a while since i read it tho#idk a lot of his arc is him learning to b more open w others (which is essentially what ended his relationship)#and u can see how much he's grown in the chapter where senshi goes into his past#to me it would b a lot sweeter for him to take on these lessons and go back to her and make things work#it's been 4 years but he's remained loyal to her depite their issues. idk to me it rlly does feel like he still loves her he's just a fool#it's made p clear that he's a coward and that he's quick to run away so actually committing to her would b a nice way to wrap things up#we don't get to see much of his wife so i get y ppl r quick to put him w the only other man in the party#but like senshi knows abt his wife too like i do not think he's gnna b making any moves here bc he has morals lmao#(*only other older man in the party. laios doesn't qualify for old man yaoi to most chilshi likers)#(even tho chilchuck isn't old either but shh they don't care abt that)#when it comes to senshi the changeling chapter def helped him w understanding how old the rest of the party is#but he clearly still views them as significantly younger than him#i don't think he views chil as a child anymore but for the majority of their time together he did#and so going from that to in a relationship is uhh rlly weird to me!#senshi has always taken a sort of parental role upon himself#w him romance is no where as interesting as the platonic bonds he has w the rest of the party#similar to how romance is entirely unimportant to izutsumi in the succubus chapter#idk i def don't hate the pairing and there r some takes on it that i find funny#but for me i just don't see anything between them i think ppl just want an m/m ship to play with#that ao3 gap is only gnna get bigger lmao
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years
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Tuvok REALLY will point to the nearest person in psychological distress, ask: “Is anyone gonna mind meld with that?” and NOT wait for answer!
#Just watched the episode where Kes ascends (I hadn't before)#Janeway: -running to try to get Kes off the ship before she tears it apart with her mind powers-#Tuvok: !!! KES!!!! Let's mind meld??? It might help???#Kes: Oh. Sure???#-they mind meld-#<- It does not seem to help literally at all#Anyway -turns to you with a crazed look in my eye- Have you ever thought about mind melding as a form of self harm#or a brand of Vulcan hypersexuality?#I do. I think about -mic feedback- sorry I think about how maybe there's a space in Tuvok's mind left behind by his wife's dormant bond#and he's filling it with these momentary and more often than not dangerous people#I also think about Tuvok has a weird number of mind conditions. The teero thing...the implanted ptsd cliff memory...the condition in endgame#the fact that he had trouble with regulating his emotions as a teenager...SOMETHING about Tuvok and his mind...#-back to previous topic- I wonder if it feels lonely to have only your thoughts in there after decades of sharing a mind with someone#and if that loneliness is manifesting itself as mind melding the first chance he gets#its not like he DOESN'T think it's an intimate thing - he says it is multiple times and YET#its like (sorry) having sex with someone you dont care about just to warm your bed...or you know - it could be. if you believe hard enough.#I love thinking too much <3#'the sex is good' by saving abel is literally a Tuvok song to me because of this VERY SPECIFIC interpretation of his character#and that sooo brave of me...#ANYWAY...Ignore this post. Thank you for reading now please fo rget it...
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cycloplasm · 10 months
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First part of the outfit meme thing i started in august 2022!
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juminohuts · 1 year
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i'm not sure if penny and elliott is a ship but i'm soo fucking close to figuring out ao3 to fulfill my own personal sdv agenda
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balteus · 2 years
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yea actually i think the author of raybearer is bent on messing with me specifically
#redemptors are sent every year or every hundred years which is it. how is yui alive if this was 100 years ago. organ death and poisoning#are the same cause of death. on the other hand death from falling isn't specified despite it being distinct from the others and the prince#claiming he is immune to it#CONSTANT TIME SKIPS. WHY#worst offender of show don't tell I've seen in a while. please let us see sanjeet nighmares instead of simply telling us about him#tell me more about maya she's the best character and only had 2 lines so far which is a crims#the entire bit of mc erasing her own memories was so not thought out. you immediately know what's going to happen there's 0 stakes here#how come everyone acts normal after she does this despite them calling medics just seconds earlier? how come she doesn't get her memories#back when she touches sanjeet?#raybearer has SUCH good worldbuilding concepts it's a shame they're so crudely explored#there's not a single character which talks normally. ifueko i promise you you can do foreshadowing without shoving it in oops didn't mean#to say that style dialogue#this book would be so much better if it was 2 or 3 books instead. tarisai growing up and her travel to the capital. exploring places she#was walled off from in her isolation. meeting kirah before and bonding with her. exploration of lodestones and magic systems#more kathleen and the redemptor. the author actually has no excuse to simply not have done this#because we KNOW tarisah can erase her own memories and would pass the test#AND THEN the second book about the trials living with dayo meeting sanjeet and fleshing out other anointed. perhaps finishing in her#regaining her memories and choosing to save dayo despite everything or at some point after the even im currently reading abt#which is abi demons escaping the temple#anyway! sorry for the long tags but i was so hyped about this book when i heard abt the main character being able to steal memories and#a plot point that happens later on
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talkorsomething · 1 month
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Too [insert adjective here] for guard ...................
Well, it's only half related.
We "hit a pothole", "had a slipup", whatever you want to call it — sunday. Aka: for the sake of my sanity we are not labeling it a relapse but good god does it feel as though I have invited the demons back in.
I know why, but I don't really know why. Because, I mean... I never have, to begin with. So: when I decided i was doing it sunday, i accepted it. "Let it happen", as someone would probably say to me. It's not...
I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's like anything - it comes and goes, a few times a year, and no matter what, I always ignore it.
Except, maybe there's something I'm not paying attention to? Or, ignoring, is the better word for it?
Of course it would be the one thing I have happening in my life.
November, I was burnt out for unrelated reasons. It was a lot to take in. That made sense. Now? ... why now?
There's not really any pressure on me. Yes, I have to do things, yes, it will be noticed if they're bad, but ...... it's not important. We don't spend time on it. I'm coming back next year, but it might be at the cost of ... all of this. I think it's progress. I haven't touched my guitar in any serious capacity in over a year. I think it's progress.
I don't take compliments well. I can't tell if that's why I don't get them, but I'm not being corrected much either. Only when I drift too far from what the work is supposed to be, only after weeks of it going, I can only assume, unnoticed. I keep getting stuck.
...push it back down.
Telling me I'm doing good isn't telling me what I know I have to be getting wrong. I could take it, at the cost of... all of this. I'm anticipating, and I know it can come. This is not where I was when I started.
It's been said, I haven't been told, that not starting it means you're more of a burden, by making the other person have to do it first. I know that. I do. And still it doesn't help. I'm not drowning. It wasn't an accident, but it wasn't planned, either. I don't know you.
I don't know you.
I'm not a good person. I'm not a nice person. Every week I tell myself this is really it, and every week I come back, and ... what? Forget I ever said anything? Forget we're not friends?
Well, we're not, huh? Nobody is, with me. What you see I swear you misunderstand. You don't ask. If you do, well, I can't answer. We're at an impasse.
It's not even my fault we didn't make it. I shouldn't feel like this over nothing. I don't do anything. You will, correctly, not let me do anything, because potential doesn't matter if you can't back it up. If you won't back it up. I let things happen to me.
I don't even feel better. And, actually, ironically, i think i know what would let me feel better. If I can't be upset with anyone else, at least I can be with myself.
... but, well, not even that. Your heart in my hands, but I mean it diegetically. And metaphorically. I hate putting myself out there, I hate having to actually perform, and yet every time, no matter what, I do it. I'm fine. I only cared at the start, and even then not very.
I don't feel anything. Not a lot, anyways. I don't let it happen. I can't. I don't know what it'll mean if I start being honest with myself.
...
I've pulled myself out of this before. A few times, now. Different circumstances, but I've done it all the same. Seasonal depression notwithstanding.
I'm only here because I did things I was scared to. And still, I'm the same. No progress made. The only way out is to do it again but I feel like I can't. I can't.
Will someone just let me say that?
Will someone just fucking help for once?
#sh tw#(implied - i know i didnt actually say it in the post but yes i did c** myself sunday)#100% секретный дневник левы НЕ ЧИТАЙ#im cursed with being a bit too self aware so#i think its compounded by my nepotism hire ... not letting me do my nepotism hire things#(for legal reasons i cannot say)#and then to add to that not letting me do anything I probably COULD actually do given slightly more instruction (at guard)#its just ... im a very angry person actually . except right now thats because im not EATING RIGHT EITHER#BECAUSE ALL OF MY PROBLEMS ARE COMBINING INTO ONE BIG INTERCONNECTED PROBLEM#back to my point.#guard instructors decided that for my first year i will not do anything cool because i'm not able to learn in about 2 seconds flat#[read: get very upset very quickly when i get things wrong and then . cant do them because im trying not to have a breakdown over]#[something REALLY STUPID like NOT BEING ABLE TO DO A SIMPLE TURN WHILE MOVING WITH THE FLAG]#so like okay. i get it okay. i'm not good at this. could you at least TELL ME i suck so i can feel justified about feeling bad about it.#could you just fucking tell me this isn't a guard where you can show up with no experience. could you do me a real solid and tell me that.#i dont know maybe the real sign it wasnt for me was when i was seriously considering not turning up for the second 'audition'#really i just hate how much he yells at us. not even at ME because i do so little there is no room to fuck it up. just at everyone else .#it doesn't motivate me to come back but i NEED 'friends' so bad and i love performing so now i just get anxious enough that i cant eat ..#.. before going to rehearsal. which is stupid. because i've done it a million times before.#......#i'm just.... everyone says he isn't actually that bad. & he used to be worse. so it really is just me.#it's just me being oversensitive. because i've never had any REAL experience in ... just about anything#so; yes. it IS on me how I feel and obviously how I react. and I keep pushing it down because it's stupid; really; to still feel this way.#anyways. our last weekend without a competition is this very weekend#so you'll never guess who's having a REALLY FUCKING HARD TIME trying to practice#i'm like this close to going to bed early and without having done the dance warmup for the third day in a row.#лёва there is no TIME why are you STILL NOT PRACTICING for the love of god get it together#(oh also when i say 'friends' in quotes it is because i desparately want to believe we're friends but they dont even talk to me really)#(and because im not even IN most of the show theres not much to bond over. literally like i have everything down Decent enough (apparently)#so theres not even any 'i will help u with this toss' team bonding. no shared moment of we are all out of breath because i DONT DO ANYTHING
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moon7jay · 2 months
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TEMPTATION (p.js)
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best friend!jay x fem!reader
Warnings : non consensual, dubious consent, manipulation, smut, loads of masturbation, jay is a freak, anal sex, obsessive behavior, mentions of violence, Morally gray plot and characters obviously, read at your own risk. Not proofread, there might be some errors.
Wc : 8.6k
a/n : reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated so much, please, please don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts, it makes my entire day<3
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Candid.
You were too candid for your own good.
Jay doesn't remember when it started to get this bad. you have always been someone who spoke their mind, but he never expected to be witnessing it first hand, and definitely not like this.
As he watches you deep throat the popsicle, your glossy lips wrapped around it so deliciously,the lustrous sheen reminiscent of morning dew on rose petals; he thinks he's in one of his wet dreams. The gloss you're wearing today is not the same as yesterday; they're both shades of dark red but Jay can tell the difference. How? Don't ask him. It's not like he spent most of his time staring at your lips or anything. He isn’t obsessive (he is). He most definitely doesn't look up the same glosses you wear online, or order them to use them for some ulterior motives. so yeah, don’t ask him why or how he can tell what the raspberry red on your lips tastes like.
Your twinkling eyes meet his, the ice pop coming out of your mouth with a loud squelch, and you smile.
"What do you think?" you ask, and Jay doesn't remember what you're asking, or what you were talking about before that pink popsicle came into the picture.
He stares at you dumbly, eyes transfixed on the allure of your saliva coated lips. Oh, he so badly wants to-
"Jay, are you even listening?" your voice interrupts the not so decent direction his thoughts were headed in.
"Huh?"
"I'm asking you, what do you think about my throat game?" your eyes shine, and Jay gulps.
This. This is exactly what he's been dealing with for the past few months.
You both have been best friends since sophomore year, and he understands that as people get closer, they start sharing all types of thoughts and secrets. Even the most intimate and inappropriate ones. Right?
Wrong.
Because jay doesn't remember sexual questions and indecency being a bonding activity among best friends. Sometimes he wonders, do you even consider him a man? Because what man is immune to these sinful thoughts, no matter how hard he tries? Were you really that unaware of the impact your words have on him or did you do it on purpose?
Jay just wasn't mentally prepared for this phase of your friendship. He blames it on his sex crazed brain.
"It-it's good" he mutters, praying that you don't notice the shakiness in his voice. or the reddening of his ears. or the sweat trickling down his neck. or the way he keeps the cushion tightly situated on his lap. Oh fuck it, there's no way you don't notice.
You giggle. You giggle, and the sound goes straight to his chubbing up cock.
"thought so, I've been practicing you know? Heeseung is so lucky, I don't even have a gag reflex" you excitedly brag about your sexual prowess, and Jay can't feel his legs. In fact, all his focus is zeroed in on one place, just like the blood rushing to his dick.
His fists clench at the familiar name and he grits his teeth to stop the throbbing in his jaw.
If Jay's life was a coming of age comedy, you were definitely the main character, and heeseung; even thinking of his name leaves a bad taste in jongseong's mouth, would be your potential love interest. Matter of fact, he seemed to be everyone's love interest.
Jay tho? He wasn't even a supporting character. You just kept him around.
You had pranced into his life in sophomore year, all wide smiles and bright eyes. When he had moved away from his home for college, he had accepted the fact that he would probably spend all of his college life alone.
Because, one, jongseong was awkward. And two, jongseong was awkward.
His awkwardness stemmed from having two friends for most of his life; they were the only two people he could talk to like a normal human being. So, when he left them behind, he left his ability to make proper conversations with them.
But you didn't need him to talk. Nope. You did all the talking for him.
He'd been minding his business, cramming up the notes for upcoming end sem exams , when the chair beside him had been pulled out and you had plopped on it in all your glory. He remembers that you had smelled like ripe cherries, and it didn't take long for jeongseong to get addicted to that fragrance.
Extrovert adopting an introvert, was the basic description of your friendship with him.
But he doesn't know where his obsession with you fits in the dynamic, doesn't know where his need to inject you in his veins stems from.
"Y-yeah, H-he's so fucking lucky" he admits, eyes shaking. He knows he sounds nervous and distressed, but if you notice, you don't mention it.
He watches as you smile proudly and go back to sucking on the popsicle, without a single care in the world. Your red tongue pokes out to lick along its length, before you start suckling on its tip.
oh, how he wishes he was that godforsaken popsicle.
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It happens again on a leisure evening. Jay had rented out the movie you so desperately wanted to see, but somewhere in the middle, you got bored. Honestly,he should’ve sensed it coming; from the weary sighs leaving your lips, to the way you were reclined on the couch, it couldn’t have been more obvious.
"It's so hard being single I swear, my fingers don't do it for me and i am so fucking frustrated right now "
Jay thinks he has developed hearing impairment. If not that, then maybe brain damage, because he's sure he's making this all up in his head somehow. there's no way you're talking to him about masturbation right now. This has to be one of his lucid dreams, there's no way you're that comfortable around him.
oh but you are. Your eyes rest on his, curious, inquisitive, as if waiting for a response. But jongseong has lost his ability to formulate coherent sentences.
"Oh" he blurts.
that's it. That's all that he can come up with.
It's an essential mercy that you don't particularly seem to care for his response, just needing a signal to rant more.
"Yes. oh. and i swear Jay, sometimes I'll try to get my fingers in there, but it's so fucking tight and they only go half way in, it's so frus-"
Jay tunes the rest of the conversation out. His mind latches onto the word "Tight ". His throat becomes parched and his palms sweat profusely where they rest against his thighs. His eyes travel down your body, drinking you in. The moles on your collarbone are so fucking tempting, he wonders if someone has told you this before. The way your skirt pools around your thighs has him gasping for air, too much skin, his palms itch to grope.
He feels like a fucking creep, because the creases on your forehead and the heated movements of your hands as you emphasize your point, makes it clear that you are just rambling.
He's your best friend and you're sharing your issues with him, like normal friends do. except Jay is not normal. At least, not when it comes to you.
He knows that you've not had much experience, knows that you've never even been fucked good, and he can't stop his imagination from running wild as he pictures you under him right now. Right on the couch that you've got your pretty ass seated on.
He wonders what your cute moans sound like, wonders if you're a screamer, or do you like to deep throat on fingers to keep your voice down. Wonders what your face looks like when you're cumming. Wonders if your nails will scratch his back red while he stuffs you full of his cum, or will you beg him to pull out.
he shouldn't be having these thoughts and yet, he just can't help it.
"What about you?" you ask, disrupting his inner monologue.
"Me?" he falters, shifting a little, sneakily adjusting his aching length.
"Yeah, are you getting some? or do you just jerk off like other losers? " There's a teasing glint in your eyes as you ask him the most intimate question one can ask someone.
Jay chokes on his own saliva. Thankfully, before he can muster up the courage to stutter an embarrassing attempt of an answer, your phone rings and you're making your way out of his house. A family emergency, you tell him, and Jay can't even bring himself to ask you about it, his mind too preoccupied with the conversation you both just had.
What would you have said if he had told you about all the girls that he fucks, imagining that they were you? Would you have been disgusted, or would it turn you on?
or about all the nights he spends wanking off to your most innocent pictures on his phone; would you think he's creepy, or would you ask him to show you how?
He can't help slipping his hands inside his pants once you're gone, can't help the pathetic moans that fall from his lips while he imagines how 'tight ' you must be. Fuck. Would you clamp around his throbbing length? would your cute little pussy suck him right in?
His movements get faster, more desperate, palms getting slick with how much precum he's leaking as he jerks himself off to the thoughts of your cunt. He flicks his wrist, the friction of his rough palm against his sensitive dick driving him insane.
He needs it, he needs you.
His grasp on his leaking cock becomes firm; tighter, wetter, softer, your thoughts send him right over the edge just in a few more dreamy strokes. The act of cumming inside his boxers is so fucking filthy, the wet spot forming on the front of his pants being a testament to his perverted desires.
"fuck, fuck baby" he groans, gulping harshly while he comes down from his high, his cum covering his palms and thighs , some of it splattering onto his stomach.
God, if only you could see him right now. If only you knew what a mess you make of him.
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You're drunk.
He can see it in the way you're starting to slur your words, the sentences no longer making any sense. Your eyes are glassy and droopy, almost on the verge of passing out. He should stop you. He should snatch the bottle away from your wobbly hands and yet.
He doesn't.
Maybe if he was a better man, he would have, but jay is not that man.
Jay watches you take another swing and anticipation builds up in his chest. You're unaware, blinded to the fact that he came here with a purpose tonight; multiple bottles of rum, the particular brand that gets you groggy in a few sips, the game cards, the setting, everything was planned.
When you told him that your roommate was gone for the night, he saw the perfect opportunity to set his sick scheme into motion. And like the naive little girl that you were, you didn't even question him about his odd idea of getting drunk on a weekday, or why you were the only one getting drunk while his glass sat untouched between you both.
Your head lulls to the side ,and within a few seconds, you plop onto your back, mumbling a few intangible words, spread out on your bed like a fucking feast.
Jay inhales harshly, his tongue flicking out to lick over his dry lips. He looks around frantically, as if someone can see what he's about to do. As if someone can peek into his sick and twisted mind. There's no one here though, and his patience is running thin.
Jay crawls over your limp body, his dark eyes devouring you, memorizing every feature up close. Your hairs are splayed around your head like a halo, some strands falling onto your forehead. your lashes flutter slightly, still in between the phase of being passed out and somewhat awake. Your luscious lips keep mumbling words that he's sure even you don't understand. there's a red flush on the apple of your cheeks, enhancing the contours of your face, and Jay just wants to take a bite.
His hungry eyes travel lower,drinking your beauty in like a famished man, watching in rampant awe at how your chest rises and falls, your tank top giving him an eyeful of your soft cleavage. well damn.
His throat bobs, taking in the way your tank top rides up your stomach, exposing your entire midriff to his lustful eyes. You're so, so innocent like this, so naive. How could you trust him so easily? He was a man, it didn't matter that he was your best friend,he was a man regardless.
you really have zero survival instincts.
But Jay is glad that it's him and not someone else. Jay would never harm you, Jay would never do anything wrong to you. He just wants to love you.
His hand moves instinctively, and he's groping your soft thighs, eyes flickering up instantly to watch you with a bated breath. When you don't show any signs of waking up, his movements get harsher, his hold sliding up,grabbing a handful of your ass. A groan falls from his lips at the feeling of your soft skin against his rough palms, his dick hardening inside his pants. Your shorts are too thin to leave anything to the imagination.
Before he knows, his hands are roaming and exploring your curves freely, caressing every inch of your naked skin that he can find. God you're so soft, so fucking soft. He doesn't overdo it tho, doesn't grab you as harshly as he wants to, aware that he can't leave any marks. He leans down and bites on your lower lip inadvertently, eyes closing in delight when your taste overwhelms his senses. You're sweeter than he imagined, and he automatically presses further into you. He moves his lips, tries to kiss you, but your lack of reciprocation irks him to no end. Fueled by his desperation to taste you, his hand comes up and he's cupping your plushy cheeks, making your mouth pucker up like a fish, the little peek of your red tongue from inside drives him up the fucking wall. Without thinking, he dives in, his tongue meeting yours, licking into your hot mouth messily, slurping in your saliva like a freak.
It's too much, the feeling of your body so close, your taste, the fact that this was wrong on so many levels, it all just added up to his arousal.
He trails his lips downwards,kissing and licking every inch of your tempting flesh.
As if a switch is flipped inside his head, Jay pulls back hurriedly and unzips his pants. his hands shake on the zipper, high from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His dick throbs against his boxers, begging for some sweet relief. His breathing is deep, the fact that he is finally about to act on his perverse fantasies hitting him hard. As he pulls his leaking dick out of the confines of his boxers, shoving them unceremoniously down to his knees, he leans back over your figure again, supporting himself with one palm resting beside your head.
He hisses painfully through his teeth, the feeling of his palm wrapping around his cock being too much.
Jay wants to see your pussy, god, he wants to taste it, he wants to fuck it till you're screaming, but not yet. He knows his limits. He knows that once he gets a peek of the treasure you hide between your legs, he might not be able to stop himself from pounding your limp body into the sheets; and so he controls the itching in his loins, resists the temptation. That can wait for another day. Right now though, he just wants to cum.
He pulls down your tank top impatiently, exposing your bra clad tits to his starving eyes. Lace, of course you wear lace.
"fucking slut" he grunts. Fuck, the way your boobs spill out of the cups, your nipples peeking through the sheer fabric makes his dick twitch. Without further ado, He wraps his palm around himself and starts stroking.
"fuck baby, look at what you do to me" he groans, leaning down to kiss your plump cheek, nuzzling his nose into your warm flesh.
His bottom lips is tucked between his teeth, his grip tightening around his leaking shaft, moving his rough palm up and down languidly. As much as he wants to take his time enjoying your body, he knows he can't take a risk. On top of that, he's too pent up to be able to drag this out, he can already feel the familiar tingling in the pit of his stomach. Too good,everything feels too good.
He whines as his thumb rubs over his engorged tip, the pleasure driving him insane.
"are you tight baby? fuck, I bet you're so fucking tight, would make my dick feel so good won't you?" He gasps into your skin, brows furrowing as his movements become harsher, faster. His abs flex and his hips jerk forward into his tight fist, imagining it's your pussy that he's fucking into.
“god it feels so good to finally fuck my fist” he pants, his warm breath fanning your flushed face.
His thighs tremble and he leans his body into yours, pressing himself flush against your unsuspecting figure. He slots his throbbing cock between your plush thighs and starts humping against you eagerly. He just can't help it. It's all your fucking fault.
"Mhmm, baby, baby, fuck you feel so good" He whimpers, fingers digging into the fat of your waist, nose buried inside the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You smell so fucking intoxicating, and he feels his sanity slipping away. God, how he wishes he could thrust inside of your wet heat right now. How he wishes he could jerk his cock off using your tight little cunt.
Its getting wet and messy, the squelching sounds coming from his cock moving back and forth against your flesh are downright filthy.
A strained moan slips from his throat and the knot in his stomach tightens. He's so fucking close.
Jay gathers a copious amount of saliva in his mouth and spits in his hand, rubbing it all over his dick, lubricating it for more pleasure, flicking his wrist faster.
"wish I was inside you right now, look how hard you make me baby, gonna cum so much f’ you-mhmnp-fuck-fuck" His whines become louder, groans get breathier, indicating the approach of an impending orgasm.
The heat inside his loins becomes unbearable and he needs contact. Direly.
Naked skin, soft flesh rubbing against his sweaty body while he jerks himself off, that’s exactly what he craves. He lets go of his cock momentarily and strips his shirt off, throwing it aimlessly across your room. He pants while he slides your bra down your chest, letting your boobs spill out in the open. The sight so lewd, he could come from this alone.
His pupils dilate, sweat trickling down his neck in effort and desire. he leans forward and presses his nipples against yours, hissing harshly, gasping in pleasure at feeling his naked chest rubbing against yours. Is this what sex with you would feel like? Sweaty bodies rutting against one another, chasing carnal pleasure?
Jay pants, and starts to jerk off furiously, wanking his dick like a mad man, palm moving back and forth while he thrusts his tongue inside your open mouth again. A groan escapes his lips, it really does feel like he is fucking you.
"God I wish you could see me right now baby, using your body for my pleasure, just like it's supposed to be" He grunts into your mouth, coating your lips with his saliva.
His hand picks up speed, he's so fucking close, his hips jerk into his own touch, chasing that friction like an animal in heat.
"God yeah, oh fuck yeah baby, gonna cum so hard for you" He groans, squeezing his eyes shut while he spurts long strings of cum onto your naked skin, hot pants fall from his mouth into yours. He squeezes his dick, tugging at it a few more times, cumming so much that it doesn't seem to stop.
"oh fuckk yeahhh, just like that" he moans, rolling over and falling onto his back beside you, rubbing his dick raw. He pumps himself shallowly, milking himself for all that he's worth, his breathing getting slower, sighs of contentment falling from his lips.
Fuck. That was so good.
He looks over at your mess of a body and quickly gets into action, getting dressed haphazardly and adjusting your clothes while he tries his best to clean every drop of cum from your skin and clothes.
The next morning when you whine about a headache, he pretends to be worried, and when you hiss in pain, telling him that there's a painful redness in your inner thighs, he tells you that it might be from your sheets rubbing against your soft skin, and that you should probably buy new ones.
If his dick twitches as he remembers rutting in between your flesh like an animal in heat, that's between him and God
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Jay is thoroughly convinced that he's losing his goddamn mind.
With each passing moment, He can feel himself descending into madness.
Nothing feels good, nothing feels worth it, time thoroughly stops if he's not constantly touching you or moping around you.
After that night, he did not get another opportunity to have you alone, and it was promptly causing havoc in his brain. It was fucking him up from the inside.
He wonders if you notice the lack of proximity between your bodies every time you both hang out together lately. But if you do notice the small lingering touches he leaves on your skin here and there, you don't mention it.
"fuck, j-just shut the fuck up" he growls, pushing the woman's head further into the pillows while he continues to plow her from behind.
Ever since he got a taste of you, Jay has found it harder and harder to find pleasure in anything or anyone else. He fucks and fucks but deep down, he knows that no pussy can ever feel like yours.
The cunt wrapped around him is warm and wet, it feels good, making hot pleasure run across his abdomen, but every time he feels his high approaching, the glaring realization that this isn't you underneath him, hits him hard. Fuck.
Jay grits his teeth and closes his eyes, remembering the taste of your soft lips on his, reminiscing the addicting feel of your nipples pressing into his hard chest; his hips pick up pace. He's fucking the woman underneath him brutally, her screams echo in the entire room, her body flailing to get out of his grasp; but Jay can't seem to stop.
"G-gah God just-take it" He groans, hissing in relief when the knot in his stomach snaps, his hips plowing at an animalistic pace, riding his high against the warm pussy in which he's buried.
"fuck fuck fuck" He chants, sighing in hot pleasure, eventually loosening his grip on the slut's body. As soon as he does tho, she pushes him off of herself, turning to him with tears streaming down her red face.
"You're a fucking animal you know?" She spits, sniffing and sobbing as she limps to her feet, his cum running down one of her legs. She collects her clothes and throws a dirty look over her shoulder towards him before she leaves.
Jay scoffs and runs an exasperated hand over his sweaty face. Refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room. All that talk and she didn’t even satisfy his dick.
What the fuck is happening to him? This type of aggression isn't typical of him and yet, he can't seem to control his emotions in the heat of the moment.
Before he can get immersed too deep into his self reflection, his phone rings, your face glowing like an angel on his lock screen.
You. The bane of his existence.
His dick twitches as he swipes right.
"Jongieee" you squeal, going on a tangent about your eye contact with heeseung across the hallway. The visible vein in jay's forehead throbs, as if all the blood's being pumped through that one particular artery in order to give him the strength to cope.
He's going to fuck heeseung's pretty face up. The rage that fills him up at the thought of another man touching you is insurmountable. It wasn't always like this. But somewhere in the middle of your budding friendship, the dynamic shifted drastically.
At first it was a stupid crush, he thought he was in love with you. But he isn't so sure now. This isn't love, no. This is beyond love. A vile, dark version of it. This is an obscene obsession. Jay is fucking obsessed with you. The need to attain you weighs heavy on his conscience.
As he hears your voice, he focuses on the sweet melody and drowns out the words. This makes the throbbing in his dick return ten fold.
He wraps a shaky hand around his slick shaft and starts to stroke it. Real nice and slow. Just how he likes it. Just like he knows your small hands will do to him.
He bites on his lower lip to prevent any sounds from escaping, and he continues to jerk off to your voice. The veins running along his cock throb in his tight grip, the swollen tip squirting precum onto his moving palm.
"Hmm yeah? Tell me more" he whispers, hoping that you don't notice how breathy his voice sounds, or how pure lust drips from his panting breaths.
The slick squelchy sounds from his palm moving up and down his leaking length echo loudly in the room. A part of him wishes that you catch him in this filthy act, relishing in the surprised and scandalized gasp that would leave your lips when you realize what he is doing.
Fuck.
His hand picks up pace, his second orgasm getting closer and closer the more that your sweet voice rings in his ears.
"Jay?" you ask, obviously confused as to why he hasn't said a single thing yet.
Jay, on the other hand, mutes his side of the mic and groans loudly.
"fuck yeah baby, say my name" He whimpers, his hips thrusting up into his tight fist.
He's jerking himself furiously now, closer, closer, he can taste the sweet release at the tip of his tongue,
"Yeah, shit y/n, make me fucking cum" his mewl fades into a high pitched moan as he shoots thick strands of cum after cum into his own fist, watching with hooded eyes , how it spurts everywhere, his abs contracting at the immense force.
God you drive him batshit crazy.
He hangs up on you, ignoring your voice calling out to him, not trusting his own voice enough to talk to you like a normal person, right after he wanked off to you like a perverted freak.
He shoots a quick message to you in explanation tho, getting his cum all over his screen in the process.
"can't hear you, network issue I think. Call u later?"
Later when Jay lets the hot water of the shower run all over his spent body, his mind drifts off to you and the events of the last few months.
He needs to fuck this madness out of his system, he decides.
Maybe once he gets his dick inside of you, he might be able to get you out of his mind.
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You look beautiful.
You always look beautiful, but something about the way that tight little red dress hugs your curves tonight has every man in the room salivating. You're like a piece of meat that's dangling in front of a pack of hungry wolves. And Jay is sure that he's the hungriest of them all.
When you had called him that afternoon, your voice sweet and pleading, begging him to accompany you to yeonjun's party, he didn't know what it would entail.
"Please, please come with me Jay, you know it's my best chance at getting heeseung to notice me" your words had been whiny, travelling straight between his legs.
He had clenched his jaw and hummed in response, not having it in him to refuse your offer. As much as it enraged him that you would take another man's name when he was right there, he also knew that his time would come.
"I love youuu, you're the best" you had squealed, making his heart do weird flips inside his chest. Yeah, he was the best. And he was going to make sure that you knew it too by the end of the night.
He's sure he's drooling, eyes tethered to the way you grind your hips on the dance floor.
It's sexy, you're so fucking sexy. Your lips are stretched into a small smile, as if you know that all eyes are feasting on you. He loves how you thrive in it, loves how you're eating up all the attention.
What he doesn't appreciate tho, is the sight of heeseung's figure making his way towards you on the dance floor. Jay's body works faster than his brain, his nostrils flaring as he makes his way towards heeseung, red hot rage propelling him forward.
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Sweat trickles down the valley of your breasts and the air feels stuffy. You need a drink. Right now.
You're mildly disappointed when you don't find heeseung anywhere in sight, all that show that you put on, and for nothing?
You sigh dramatically and make your way to the kitchen, recognizing jay's hunched over figure in the corner, doing God knows what.
"Jay? " you call out to him. His figure freezes upon hearing your voice, he turns his head to meet your eyes and shoves his hand inside his pocket without a second's delay. His behavior makes you furrow your brows "what?" you ask him incredulously. Why was he behaving like a child who'd been caught sneaking where he shouldn't be sneaking.
He shrugs his shoulders and turns fully to face your approaching form.
Jay knows that he's staring, but he just can't help it. Not tonight.
You pick up the drink from the counter and swirl it, looking around the kitchen, scrunching up your nose adorably at the intense make out session near the sink.
Jay follows your line of vision and almost groans. Did you have any idea, how badly he wanted to recreate that scene with you.
"Where's heeseung?" you question, your curious eyes looking back at him.
Jay hopes you don't notice the way his jaw immediately locks up, his mood dampening at another man’s name. Jay likes you best when you’re calling his name, he decides.
"He left" He quips, reaching for a drink with his free hand that isn't buried inside his pocket in a meticulous manner.
You look at him heatedly, and Jay sighs.
"He left, or you made him?" your voice is angry, irritated when you ask him that, and Jay feels his own anger flare up at your tone.
Not wanting to cause a scene, he grabs your hand and drags you inside the bathroom instead, grateful when you don't resist.
The way you free your wrist from his grasp to create some distance between you two, is what he doesn't like.
"What did you do?" You demand, folding your hands across your chest, pushing your boobs up in the process. Jay's eyes flicker down to your beauties and the heat in his head travels all the way down to his groin. He needs to have you, now.
You watch in horror as Jay retrieves his hand from the pocket of his pants. The cuts and bruises all over his knuckles make you gasp. Your hands fall to your sides and you look up into his eyes disbelievingly.
"I-w-why? Jay? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you ask, disbelief and anger making way for concern.
"You! you are what's fucking wrong with me!" Jay bellows and it makes you flinch, terror filling up your viens , because this isn't your Jay. Your Jay was calm, and so, so quiet.
Raging eyes look into yours as he stalks towards you. You don't see it coming when he cups your cheek in his hands and thrusts his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands come up to bang against his chest but it only propels him to pull you further into his chest. Fuck, it feels so fucking good when you move against him.
You whine while his tongue tastes your hot mouth hungrily, forcing it deep inside the crevices of your cavity.
Mustering up all the strength that's left in your body, you push him away, heaving heavy breaths as he stumbles back by a few steps.
Your watery eyes look at him in horror and disbelief, refusing to believe that your best friend just forced himself upon you.
"You're insane" you whisper, your voice hauntingly quiet.
He pulls your body closer to himself and kisses you again, diving into your taste desperately "for you, so fucking crazy for you" he murmurs between kisses, continuing to make out with you, making a mess at how forcefully he sucks your tongue into his mouth.
You hit against his chest, thrashing your body in his hold. He pulls back a little and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes are crazed as they look into yours. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his famished one.
"Let me fuck you" He pants.
His words hit you like a slap across the face. What the fuck.
Your head feels dizzy, too much was happening for you to process. Using all the force you could, you push him away from you again.
"Stop acting like this jay!" you cry, just wanting your best friend back. But from the looks of it, he's nowhere in sight.
No, no, no. This can't be happening to you
"Come on, you know you want this" Jay hisses, malice dripping from his eyes.
Your lips wobble and you can do nothing but shake your head, it lolls on your neck lifelessly. You want to say something, but words feel foreign, as if not knowing how to bend your tongue to make the syllables sound quite right.
The bathroom is a tight space, not much expanse for you to run or hide. You see the door from your peripheral and it gives you some hope. If you can get the door to open up in time, you can scream. Maybe someone might hear you through the bass boosted music thrumming in the house.
You stumble back a few more steps but before you can stretch your hand towards the bathroom door, he pounces on you, a sharp whoosh leaving your mouth as your back thumps against the wall behind. He buries his nose inside the crook of your neck, gliding it's slope across the expanse of your soft skin, humming in desire.
His hands run all over your body, cupping your boobs through your dress, making you mewl as he twists your nipples painfully.
"it's about time we had sex baby" he whispers in your ear, biting and nibbling on your earlobe sensually.
"J-jay p-please think about this" you plead, your voice small and frightened, tremors covering your entire figure when he starts to unbuckle his jeans impatiently.
"Think? Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how much I've thought about this do you? " His eyes stay on yours, maintaining eye contact while his fingers unzip his pants. Jay had forgone boxers, too impatient to take his time undressing. His sole purpose was to get his dick inside your stomach tonight.
"This is all I've been thinking about for the past year baby, your cute little cunt is all i fucking think about" He grits.
His dick plops out of his pants, hitting his abdomen, smearing a blob of precum on his happy trail. Your eyes widen and water further, little sobs start to wrack your body. Your eyes take in the view of his uncut cock, curving upwards in sexual need.
"Too big?” he asks, tone mocking your deer caught in the headlights expression, his body presses closer to yours while he works to slide your tight little dress up your thighs, exposing your panty clad pussy to his eyes , fuck yeah.
“I'll make it fit" he groans, running his fingers over your vulva, pinching your clit in the process. You sob and start flailing in his hold, your fists coming up to hit against his chest.
"Jay please, please,no" your voice shakes urgently when he tears your sheer panties apart in pieces, his tongue coming out to lick over his dry lips.his eyes are wide and unseeing, they terrify you.
"Fuck, this pussy has been driving me fucking crazy" he pants, taking a hold of his dick and running it's bulbous head along your slit, coating it in his precum. His eyes come up to momentarily look in your terrified ones and he bites his lower lip, gaze famished and hungry, drinking up all your reactions.
He pops his head in between your silky folds and his knees buckle at the delicious feeling, his free hand coming up to rest against the wall behind you, as he cages you against it.
"fuck, you're tight, gonna have a field day forcing myself inside" he tuts, amused.
His words make you sob, an inexplicable heat spreading across your pelvis when he bullies more of his throbbing shaft inside, satisfied moans leaving his mouth in stuttering gasps.
He wraps your leg around his waist and without warning, buries himself inside your cunt in one harsh thrust, doubling over in pleasure.
"Oh fuck yeah baby, shit" He growls, resting his forehead against yours, his hot breaths falling on your wet cheeks.
You wail and scream but Jay doesn't stop moving, your small fists do nothing to deter his movements, his hips starting to pick up pace instead. His brows furrow in pleasure and he moans into your mouth, urging you to cry more as his cock pumps deep inside your guts.
"Tight little slut, this is what you fucking wanted didn't you? Fucking cock tease" he hisses, throwing his head back in extreme ecstasy, pounding his hips rapidly into yours. The feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck makes him groan in pleasure.
"Yeah baby, you wanna fight? let's fucking fight like this" He whispers silkily, grabbing your ass in his big palms, groping your soft flesh painfully, digging his own nails into it.
"h-hurts so much Jay, stop please, p-please" you sob, tears blurring your vision, the stretch from his cock being too much for your tiny little pussy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, you're sure that if he was naked, you would break his skin.
Jay scoffs and presses your body further into the wall, snapping his hips faster into yours, fucking desperately into your wet, hot cunt.
"Yeah? But your cunt is sucking me in baby, looks like you like what we're doing"
You throw your head back at his words, unable to stop your hips from gyrating against his thrusts. Pleasure was starting to cloud your mind.
"fucking finally, feels so good to be buried in this pussy, should have forced myself in it a long time ago" He pants, taking your lower lip in his mouth while he increases the intensity of his rut. You moan into his mouth when he digs his teeth in your plump flesh, his actions barbaric.
The squelching sounds start filling up the small cubicle, the filthiness of the whole act only working to fuel your desire more.
Before you can get submerged in pleasure tho, Jay pulls out of you with an embarrassing ‘plop’ and forces you to your knees instead; ignoring how you hiss in pain at the feeling of the rough tiles scraping against your bare knees.
He penetrates your mouth with his cock and starts fucking, plowing it like it's your cunt, moaning and groaning in pure pleasure.
You dig your nails into his thighs but he ignores your pleas to breathe, pushing your head further against the wall instead. He digs his fingers in your hairs and grinds his hips into your plump mouth, his dick hitting the back of your throat mercilessly.
"God yeah, just like that, jerked off so much to you baby, suck my dick like you fucking mean it" His whiny voice travels straight between your legs and you moan. The vibrations of your throat make his dick twitch inside your mouth and he pulls out with a groan.
He rubs his cock head against your lips and buries himself to the hilt inside your throat again, pressing your nose against his pubes while his cum filled balls slap against your chin.
The lack of gagging makes him chuckle in disbelief “no fucking gag reflex, god your throat is just like a fucking cunt”.you mewl and rub your thighs together at his words.
"Fucking hell, should have done this before, we could have been fucking so much" he grouches, kneeling down and forcing your body onto the floor. It's a tight fit, but jay doesn't seem to care. He folds your body in half and thrusts inside your pussy again. His movements are so impatient and hurried, you aren't used to being desired this way.
"mhmnm yeah, pussy feels so good" He growls, his hold tightening further around your legs that rest against his shoulders and he starts to rut into your tight heat again. This time it's more desperate, downright filthy. He's panting on your face, letting a string of saliva drip from his mouth into yours when he sees your mouth open in a silent scream. You choke on it and he laughs, condescending, hissing through gritted teeth.
"Get used to this baby, we're gonna be fucking so much after tonight, gonna keep my cock buried in your fuck hole" he groans, bullying his cock into your hole over and over again.
You wrap your arms around his neck and start grinding into him, staring back into his eyes to let him know that you want this.
His eyes widen upon feeling your hips thrusting upwards, humping his cock, hot pleasure running down his spine.
"Yeah baby? fuck, you like this? fucking slut, you did all of that on purpose didn't you? wanted to drive me fucking crazy for this pussy?"
You nod in pleasure, all rational thoughts leaving your mind. All you know is, that his dick feels a little too good when it rams against your cervix.
You are close, way too close, your body convulsing in carnal lust as your orgasm washes over you all of a sudden.
Moan after moan of his name falling from your red bitten lips.
He laughs as he feels your cum trickle down his thighs, drenching his balls in your juices.
"fucking slut" He moans, throwing his head back as he enjoys the clenching of your throbbing cunt on his leaking shaft.
He feels himself close to his high, but he doesn't want this to end. Not yet.
Jay pulls out and rests his back against the wall, patting his thigh for your spent figure as you lie on the floor.
"Come sit on it " He breaths, his voice strained due to how much effort it takes for him to not start jerking off to the sight of your sticky cum running between your pussy lips.
So fucking hot. He wants to obliterate your pussy.
He watches with hooded eyes as you get up on your knees and crawl towards him, eyes trailing down to his hard dick. Jay groans at your hungry gaze, fuck yeah. You want him. You want his dick.
This singular thought forces him to wrap his palm around his leaking prick. Your eyes widen and a small mewl escapes your lips as you watch him stroke his length slowly, wet sounds resonating between the space between your hot bodies.
Jay bites on his lower lip and starts to stroke faster "yeah you like this? This is how I jerked off to your thoughts baby, rubbed my dick raw every night, imagining it was your pussy instead of my fucking hand" He pants, cupping his balls with his other hand, the double stimulation driving him insane.
The sight in front of you is so lewd, it makes your pussy drip. The way his pants are not all the way off, resting against his ankles, hanging on him unceremoniously is so hot, your cunt clenches around nothing.
Without a single thought, you close the gap between your bodies, straddling his lap while you maintain a hungry eye contact with him. He looks famished as he watches you replace his palms with yours, tugging on his throbbing cock a few more times before you guide it to your wet hole.
"Yeah baby put it in, come on, put my dick inside" He groans, his hands coming up to wrap around your waist, pulling you down onto his length impatiently. You both let out gasps of pleasure when his dick slips inside, buried in you balls deep.
"f-fuck" you moan and he hums, throwing his head back in pleasure. The itch in your pussy starts to intensify and your hips start moving on their own, looking a way to satisfy it.
"Yeah, ride it, ride it like you fucking want it" he moans, thrusting up into your hole. You gasp and hold onto his shoulders, slamming yourself up and down on his shaft. The sex feels too good. So hot and so messy. It makes you wonder why you were resisting it in the first place.
Your hot, sweaty bodies rutt against one another desperately, feeling your highs approaching at a rapid pace.
"Bounce on it baby, come on, make me cum, wanna fill this pussy up" He pants, digging his nails into your thighs as he begins thrusting up at a rapid pace. You squeal at the sudden action but bury your face inside the crook of his neck in pleasure. Too good. Fuck it's starting to get too hot.
Desperate gasps escape his lips when your cunt starts clenching around him again, he's close, so close. Fuck yeah. He can’t believe he is finally gonna cum in your cunt, and just the thought of it was enough to make the knot in his stomach snap.
"Just like that, oh yeah, oh fuckkkkkk" he growls, humping upwards as he holds your body down and squirts his cum into your womb, thrusting rapidly into your swollen pussy, making you cum again.
You moan and whine when he doesn't stop moving, his hips pick up pace without break and your head gets dizzy. The over-stimulation getting to your head.
"can't stop fucking, let's do it again yeah? let me pound this cunt again I'm so fucking hard"
Before you can protest, he is flipping you around, pressing your body against the bathroom floor, your boobs squished against the cold tiles. The tiles were so dirty, probably because of the number of couples before you both, who couldn't wait to get down and dirty. You wonder, how many people fucked in this cubicle before you, and your back arches on its own. You feel his body mounting you and he envelops your sweaty body with his meaty arms.
You gasp upon feeling his thumb prodding at your asshole, dipping in and out experimentally.
"Jay not there please please I've never-" your begging gets cut off with a shrill scream as his entire head bullies inside your sphincter.
Jay's eyes roll back in pleasure and he moans, the sound so pornographic that it makes hot lust run through your womb.
"fucking hell baby, it's tighter than your pussy, gonna fuck it so hard"
Your legs flail but Jay doesn’t stop dicking you down, he thrusts his entire length inside your virgin hole and groans in ecstasy, it is the tightest hole he's ever been buried in. His hips start moving, plowing into you at a rapid pace. He puffs and huffs like a dog in heat, the stimulation around his dick pushing him closer to the edge again. Your hole stays tight as a clamp around his meat.
You, on the other hand, wail in pleasure mixed with pain. It hurts, it hurts but God does it hurt so good. His balls slap against your ass cheeks painfully.
Skin slapping sounds fill up the bathroom and you push your ass back against his dick, moaning and bucking back, needing it deeper inside your stomach.
"That's right baby, fuck back on me, gonna cum so hard again" His plaintive groans indicate his arousal, lust drips from the frantic movements of his hips.
He thrusts inside you wantonly, his desire to nut overpowering all other senses.
The desperate rut and stimulation of your hole sends you tumbling over another orgasm, your legs quivering as you come with a pleasured moan, chanting his name in a prayer.
The tight clamping of your two sphincter muscles on his fully engorge cock send jay over the line. He bellows loudly, cursing and grunting as spurt after spurt of his pent-up sperm paint the inside of your fuck hole
Finally satiated, Jay falls onto your limp body, kissing your earlobe, mumbling lazily about how he's gonna fuck you again and again till he erases heeseung's name from the forefront of your mind.
You don't tell him that there is no heeseung anymore. You don't tell him how every cell of your body only craves his touch now, aching to be plowed by his dick alone.
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winterzsurprise · 11 months
Text
A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.
Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.
Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.
mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)
“I think I’m ready.”
Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.
“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”
“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”
Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him. 
Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.
“Alright, what is it?”
Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.
But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.
Having a kid with both of your features…
It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.
“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”
The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”
“I think I’m ready for one.”
Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject. 
If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.
Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.
As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...
His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”
Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”
You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation. 
tik!
tok!
tik!
tok!
tik!
Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.
You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair. 
His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.
Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.
It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.
There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.
His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.
You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.
"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid." 
You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.
"You don't mind this one, yeah?"
"Rip it off."
He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.
"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."
You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.
His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.
But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.
"Fuck…" You whined.
"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."
He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.
You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.
"Mi vida..."
"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.
You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.
"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."
With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.
"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"
"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."
"P-please... Ah!"
Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.
You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.
"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.
Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.
"I-I'm close…"
"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."
Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his. 
"Come for me, cariño."
Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.
The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.
"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"
"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"
Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.
Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.
"You're wasting them."
Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.
The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.
Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.
"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
Note
Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,
So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.
Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))
Midnight Encounters [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 2.2k
note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.
Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it. 
A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more. 
That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.
You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.
You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.
You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?
You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.
"Who is it?"
“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.
"What happened? Everything is alright?"
You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...
“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.
You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:
"I'm cold"
You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you. 
“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”
"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”
For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.
“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.
“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”
“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”
If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch. 
Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.
“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.
“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.
You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.
“We have to sleep, then”
Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.
"Are you comfortable?"
“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.
You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.
You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.
“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”
“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”
Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.
“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.
"Yeah?"
Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.
“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"
Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.
Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.
In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.
Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.
She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.
“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"
Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.
It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.
At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.
"Is…?"
“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”
She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.
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Text
If It All Fell (5)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, references to nonconsensual situations (very brief, nothing graphic, and not Az)
a/n: Hope this clears some stuff up ;) More to come and especially more Az to come. Thank you forever for reading and sharing your thoughts! This is getting me through the semester <3
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 6 ♡
Series Masterlist
~~
Azriel walked you to your room. 
He knew exactly where to go, which corners to turn and which to pass, which was very convenient as you still found yourself struggling with the task. The House of Wind, as everyone so lovingly called it, was practically a maze for someone with no memory of its twists and turns. But Azriel had absolutely no trouble getting you to your room. 
Once you got to your room, however, he appeared to have many troubles. 
“You can come in,” you prompted, looking over your shoulder to find the shadowsinger with his shoes at the threshold. “I promise I just cleaned it. Or, at least I’m pretty sure I cleaned it. It’s hard to know where to put things when I only just started…” 
Your voice trailed off. Upon further inspection of the man standing just outside your door, you found that he didn’t simply look hesitant to enter. He had his hands pressed to the doorframe, his head slightly leaned into the room, and his eyes were slowly trailing along your belongings. The expression on his face read as forlorn, but his body read as tense. 
He had been here before, obviously. Of course this would be hard for him. You probably had everything in the wrong place and he had just told you about the difficult time he was having—how close the two of you had been before you lost everything. 
“Um,” you began, pressing your lips together tightly when his gaze flickered to you. “Maybe you could… or would you mind maybe telling me where my bags are? If you know. Mor gave me a surface-level tour, but she didn’t seem to know everything.” 
Azriel looked down to the ground beneath your feet. He blinked back up to meet your eyes. “Of course,” he replied, with so much practiced restraint in his tone you weren’t sure how he gritted out the words. 
When he stepped in the room, it felt as if something shifted. He walked between tables and furniture and he fit like a puzzle, his wings never brushing anything, his eyes never casting down to analyze his body in the space. He looked like he belonged—he looked like he completed the space. 
Something finally felt right. 
Nothing felt right… but this did. 
Azriel pushed open the closet doors, rifling through a cabinet you had only glanced at before. After a few silent moments, he walked out with bags in hand. His shadows hadn’t followed him. They drifted towards the bed instead, burrowing into the blankets and pillows until the plush surface became dark. 
Azriel zeroed in on them as he placed the bags by your feet, staring off at his shadows as you brought your attention back to him. This close, you were able to catch his scent—the cedar and night-kissed air you’d recognized many times in recent days. But it had been so faint before, like he had been gone for weeks and the scent still lingered, or he had been in the room but only for a brief time. Nothing like now, with his chest only inches from your face. 
“They seem to like my bed,” you laughed, just a small, breathy sound. An attempt to diffuse some of the untouched tension in the room. 
The side of Azriel’s mouth curled up. You watched it rise, silently relishing in the heat of his body as it radiated into the space between you. “I can see that.” 
He wasn’t a man of very many words—that’s something Mor had thankfully shared with you—but you wanted to fight against that. You wanted to hear the soft, low rumble of his voice. You wanted his laugh to spark in the air, to feel his words against your skin as you had just a few moments earlier. Azriel told you he didn’t hate you, that he was close to you, and suddenly the space between you felt impossible. 
You just wanted to hear his voice. 
“Have I changed things much?” you asked, heart thudding when he brought his gaze down to you. “I don’t know how much time you used to spend in here… or currently spend in here, I suppose—it’s only been a few days—but I’ve moved a few things. If you could tell.” 
Azriel took in a long breath. “Actually, you—” he shook his head with an expression you could only decipher as baffled “—you put everything back. Cassian and Feyre, they moved a few things around when you were being brought home. Things that might have… well, we just didn’t want you to be overwhelmed.” 
Overwhelmed. 
“We should have known that was a ridiculous idea. You’re too brilliant, even without the context.” 
Warmth flooded you; one compliment from Azriel and it was as if nothing mattered. You didn’t need your memories, you only needed this.
Azriel’s cheeks colored as if he felt the rush of emotions himself, his eyes bright. 
No, that wasn’t right—you needed your memories. You needed to remember each and every time he had looked like this. 
“Probably didn’t help that there were a bunch of empty spaces everywhere. If you leave nails on the wall it becomes quite obvious that something belongs there,” you quipped, a small smirk playing at your features. 
Azriel laughed. Not a full laugh, but one that you had no idea you were missing before. “I will be sure to pass on the message.” 
“Good. Cassian has many messages coming from me, it seems. Conflicting ones as well.” 
“Right, of course. I will convey to him that you missed his presence earlier, but also that he is awful at hiding things from an amnesiac.” 
“Perfect, thank you, Azriel.” 
He gazed upon you, eyes flickering to every corner of your face. 
They rested on your lips and then your eyes, trailing up until his hand followed to move the strand of hair that had wisped across your forehead. He brushed it away with delicate fingers, not a touch of hesitancy in them. Like it was natural for him, normal. 
And maybe it was. 
“I don’t know what to pack,” you whispered, trying to keep some of the lightness in the room. “Can you help? I haven’t a clue where most of my things are and you appear to be much more knowledgeable.” 
Azriel drew his hand back, his eyes closing for a few long moments. 
You wished you could delve into his mind the way Rhysand could—that you could understand some of the pain written in the tight clench of his eyelids. 
“Of course I’ll help you.” 
It began with him gathering things from the connected washroom. He entered the tiled room and opened drawers without fault or mistake, collecting perfumes you had been gravitating towards and zipping up products you hadn’t even found yet. He packed your brushes and jewelry as if he’d done this all before, as if your request for help wasn’t really a request, but an expectation. 
“Have we traveled together before?” you found yourself asking as you followed behind the shadowsinger, a bag hanging from his arm. 
Azriel smiled, turning to you with a glint in his eye. “A few times.” 
You were very close friends, then. 
Azriel led you back to the closet where he pulled a few articles of clothing from the hangers, holding each out for you to approve before he neatly folded them. You denied nothing, rather surprised by his taste and sense for whatever the weather was like in Day. 
He moved further into the closet, half of which was sparsely filled. Maybe you filtered out your clothes with the seasons. 
Or maybe something was missing. 
Azriel paused.
You watched his scarred fingers brush over the purple dress you had worn on the first day you spoke to him after waking up. He rubbed the material against the pad of his thumb once, and then twice, before closing the closet doors and taking an abrupt step back. You stepped with him. 
The shadowsinger said nothing.
“All done?” you asked. “Anything else I would need at Day?” 
His shoulders rose and fell. Some of his shadows returned to make revolutions around his body.
“Azriel?” 
“I—I’m sorry. Give me a moment.”
The shadowsinger stalked over to the bed, went to sit, but then seemed to think against it and began pacing instead. You tucked your fingers into your palm as you watched him, trying to hide the discomfort you felt as his clear unease. 
Had you done something wrong? 
Maybe you were being too familiar. This friendship between you was new and comfortable and exciting, but that was for you. 
For Azriel, there was a gap, an immense amount of pain and missing connection. 
He didn’t hate you, and that was… wonderful news, but this was also uncharted territory. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have asked for his help—shouldn’t have invited him in. 
“Azriel, I—” 
“I need to explain this to you,” Azriel began, running a hand through disheveled locks. “I need you to understand why this is so hard. I don’t want you to assume this is your fault or that this is anything other than what it is.”
You nodded, but he didn’t look up to see your confirmation. 
Azriel sighed and his wings flared slightly, returning back to his body in a quivering motion. 
“I am terrified, y/n.” 
This time, Azriel did look up to catch your gaze. 
“I am terrified because this has happened before. It’s like I’m reliving it. Like you’re reliving it but you just don’t remember.” 
Your fists unfurled as your brows met a point. “No one’s told me—“ 
“I know,” he breathed out, defeat the most prominent emotion on his beautiful face. “Last time this happened, the more we told you about the past—about certain aspects of your life—the more it hurt you, y/n. You’d… you’d scream until your lungs gave out every time we tried to share something new. It was like that for weeks.” 
The Illyrian forfeited his internal battle with the bed, dropping down into a seat on the foot of it. Unsure of your place within your own room, you simply followed him, standing in front of his bent knees, eyes prompting him to continue. 
He watched you as you moved. 
“Has anyone told you what you do for this court? Your job?” 
You shook your head. 
Azriel continued. “You work as an emissary between courts and continents, but that’s more of a cover—a more comprehensible title for those outside of our circle. It’s hard to explain, but that power Rhys mentioned? It’s—it’s as if you have this intuition. For everything. You look at things, at people, and you just… know them. You look past lies and you pick up on things that are seemingly impossible to catch.” 
Your head shook as Azriel fumbled over each of his words, confusion swirling in your gut. “That doesn't make any sense. Mor said that Rhys found me working at some boatyard by the Sidra. She said I used to help build vessels—there’s no way I have a power like that.” 
“You do,” Azriel affirmed. “Rhys only went to find you because he heard of a girl building boats from memory. You took one look at him and knew what he wanted. Rhys said he barely had to offer you the job.” 
It was a struggle not to grind your teeth together in frustration. 
You used to know everything. 
And now you knew nothing. 
Your head began to hurt, or maybe you were just noticing that it had never stopped hurting.
“You said—” you started, tone heavy with vexation. Your eyes couldn’t find a solid place to land “—you said this has happened before. What does that have to do with these powers?” 
Sensing the rise in your mood, Azriel seemed to even his own out. A balance between the two of you. You became agitated, he became calm. But you could tell he was struggling.
“Around 270 years ago, after you’d been working for the court for a few decades, Rhys sent you to Day. It was routine. You were going to gather information for a High Lord’s summit meant to take place there, but really, Rhys wanted you to scope out the area. To get insight on any plans, any secret dealings. You were meant to be gone for a few days at the most.” 
Azriel’s fists clenched atop his knees. His face remained impassive.
“You were gone for six months. Gone. No one could reach you, Helion had assumed you went home already. It was right after you and I… became friends, so I was worried for you. More than the others, but no one was without worry. We found you eventually, but you—”
Something choked. Azriel choked. His head hung down and you replayed the last few of his words in your mind—the way they tightened and then tapered off. 
This was too much. 
Conveying comfort in the only way you knew how—in the way this family tended to love—you stepped between Azriel’s legs and brought a hand to his cheek, raising his face until his glassy eyes came into view. 
“You don’t have to talk about this,” you whispered. “If it’s too hard, we can stop.” 
Azriel’s jaw quivered. His next words seemed to tumble from his mouth without warning. 
“Fuck, I miss you.” 
It was simple instinct that led to your reply. “I’m right here.” 
Something stirred within you, tugging lightly. Your heart, you deduced, beating so fast it was playing tricks on you. The shadowsinger in your hands twisted slightly, just barely so that the corner of his mouth touched your palm. Your heart tugged again.
“You didn’t remember anything, like now,” Azriel revealed, speaking just as you were about to pull away. You stopped yourself, feeling as if your touch was an encouragement to speak. “It was worse though, you were in so much pain. Any time you tried to remember anything, or even just tried to learn, it was like you were being pierced through the skull. You—you screamed so much.
“But it didn’t take us very long to figure it out. My spies in Day found the culprit and it was easy to capture him. He was weak. Strong powers, but weak in every other sense of the word. It was another Daemati—like Rhys. He became infatuated with you during your time in Day. He knocked you out, found a way to use your powers against you, to make them hurt.” 
Azriel shuddered. His mouth got closer to your hand like he was leaning into it. 
“It took a few weeks to get him to fix it. But those months, y/n—the time you were gone. You don’t remember them. I can only imagine what you went through. And when we brought you home you hurt so badly. So that's why… why us going back there is hard. Because this is all so similar and if it’s happening again I can’t…” 
“Azriel,” you softly called, sure that this was the most amount of speaking the shadowsinger had done in a while. Sure that he needed a break. A respite. “It’s not the same, is it? You know that. My head hurts, but not like that. I don’t struggle to be reminded of the past. I learn new things. There is no evil villain waiting to take me away.” 
“Y/n—” 
“It’s not the same. I might not have access to these all-encompassing powers you speak of, but I can tell you that much. I’m sorry for what you went through before—that you had to watch a member of your family go through that then and then now… but it’s different. It’s different and I’ll be okay.” 
His pond water eyes stared back at you as you attempted a reassuring smile. You felt his knees press against your thighs where you stood between them, and the pressure spurred you on. You ran your thumb along the high point of his cheek, relishing in the flutter of his lashes, gravitating towards him to relish in that closeness as well. This moment felt like yours, and something was telling you it was yours. That no one else could have this with him. 
But you didn’t have your powers, your fae abilities, so maybe that feeling was nothing but hope.
Your thudding heart lulled you into a long breath. 
“Maybe, if it would put you at ease, you could stay with me while we’re in Day? At my side, I mean. You could whisper everyone’s names into my ear so I don’t look like a fool and make sure I don’t get lost—” 
“Yes,” Azriel replied, sure and resolute with no traces of the impending tears that had made his hazel eyes a pretty pool just moments before. “I won’t leave your side once. I promise.” 
His devotion made you pause, surprise evident in the rapid blinking of your eyes. You wanted to protest, to tell him he didn’t need to promise something so taxing, but determination had set in his brow, and Azriel—your friend—wanted this. Needed this. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you, Azriel. For telling me all of this even though it was hard. For being here for me even though I know that’s hard, too. You’re a wonderful friend. I can’t wait to continue to find that out. I promise to be just as wonderful.” 
“You are already the most wonderful thing in my life.” 
Part 6 ♡
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utterlyazriel · 4 months
Text
an eternity, my love
eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)
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How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?
When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.
Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.
Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?
You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.
With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.
You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.
Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.
He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.
You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.
After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.
Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.
The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.
And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.
Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.
Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.
You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.
It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.
He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.
Your heart burns.
In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.
It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.
It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.
Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.
Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.
Ruination be damned.
Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.
You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.
Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.
But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.
The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.
An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.
He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.
All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.
It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.
And then, he remembers the pang of fear.
He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.
"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.
You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.
"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.
He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.
Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.
The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.
Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.
Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.
“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.
You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.
“Who says I’m nervous?”
Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."
There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.
"I can feel it.”
Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.
"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.
"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.
Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"
You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.
"Brussels sprouts."
Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.
"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.
"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."
He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.
You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.
The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.
Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.
Firstly, he's terribly quiet.
Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).
With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.
You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.
There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.
He doesn’t touch you.
Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.
His hands reach out but they do not find you.
At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.
Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.
The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.
As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.
Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.
And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.
A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?
Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.
Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.
The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.
It's a decidedly Azriel thing.
He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.
As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.
It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.
So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.
"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."
My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.
It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.
It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.
It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.
You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.
There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.
Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.
Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.
Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.
Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.
"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."
You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.
"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.
You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.
As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.
"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."
The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.
"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."
You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."
Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."
"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."
Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.
"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"
There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.
One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.
"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."
You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.
When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.
"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.
It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.
Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.
Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.
It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?
“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.
“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”
Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.
On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.
Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.
You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.
Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.
And then— then, you see it.
Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.
You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.
It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.
He doesn't touch you.
The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.
His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.
You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.
"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.
"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."
It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.
You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.
You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.
The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.
And like always, you never hear him coming.
"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.
You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.
He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?
His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.
Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?
"Please," He tries his words again.
His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.
"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."
You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.
"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."
Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.
You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.
Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.
All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.
Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.
You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?
You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.
"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.
"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.
"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”
You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.
"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."
Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.
"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."
“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.
"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.
Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.
"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"
"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."
His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.
The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.
You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.
Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.
He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.
Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.
"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"
"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.
But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.
"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.
"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.
"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."
You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.
"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”
Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.
“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.
“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.
“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”
Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.
“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.
“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”
And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.
His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.
It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.
Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.
He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.
Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.
“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.
“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.
“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”
Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.
some people i thought might want to be tagged :)
@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares
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moncherellie · 6 months
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𓆩⚝˚‧no room for the holy spirit ♱꙳˚₊‧
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a/n: finally it's here! been screaming into the void abt this one for... ever. a thousand thank yous to @thirsting-over-women who proofread this for me :>> my savior actually. if the religious themes offend you (whether you are religious or have trauma) i encourage you not to read, maybe check out my other works instead :D
content/warnings: 4,500 words, preachers daughter!ellie x fem!reader, nsfw, reader wears a skirt, semipublic/car sex, fingering, oral (r receiving), reader's first wlw experience, sexual awakening?, religious motif, christian themes, mild religious guilt throughout, mentions of religious homophobia, internalized homophobia, ellie smokes a lil, she's a bit mean, fuckin in a church parking lot
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The pressures of being a teenage girl were hard enough without the pressures of being a gay teenage girl. Being a gay teenage girl was hard enough without the pressures of being the daughter of a fucking preacher. Ellie had never really bought into the whole 'organized religion' thing, ever the skeptic. Even as a puny 8-year-old, she asked why she had to wake up early every Sunday for something she didn't even like doing. Her attitude didn't change much after that, but her parents got stricter and stricter in an attempt to control her sacrilege. She didn't spend much time with her family, instead seeking familial bonds at school, especially with her mechanics teacher, Mr. Miller. But, you know what they say:
Strict parents raise sneaky children.
And it's true. If Ellie's dad knew what she was doing outside the holy walls of the ministry, he'd have an aneurysm and have her exorcised. But, she always thought, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
You were the opposite. Raised the same as Ellie, you took to religion and fully participated, though mostly out of obligation. Just go every week for an hour and your family will leave you alone. This tactic, for the most part, worked. Your traditional family had their rough moments, specifically when they mocked the outfits you'd wanted to wear to service and called you some... unsavory names. But if you could avoid any similar incident, any clash with authority, you were taking the holy road.
On the outside, you were the purest of people. There was never a bad or dirty thought in your mind. You were a pillar of the community, someone that parents pointed out to their kids. "Be like them," they'd say. Your parents were proud, so you should've been proud. Should've.
You and Ellie had grown up quite close due to being in similar social groups and seeing each other every week at service. Since then, you'd grown apart as you took different paths in life, though you still felt a sense of commitment toward her; So when she cursed out her father in front of the clergy, your eyes widened.
"You fucking dick! You don't know shit about anything! You use all this- this... bullshit- as a crutch so you don't have to own up to your own baggage!"
As she stormed out, you silently move from your spot in the choir, doe eyes shining in the bath of stained glass light, and shuffle up to the front of the room.
"Father, if I may, I would like to go check on your daughter." You're a model fixture, a saint.
"Of course, my child. I hope someday she'll be more like you. I pray that-" You shuffle off again, not wanting to hear about how he wishes his daughter was different. He really wishes his child hid who she was, you think bitterly. You admired Ellie's rebellion, though you'd never say it, and you wished you were as strong as her.
You walk away from the church to the little park you and Ellie used to go to. Your memories flood with nostalgia for simpler times, and you smile to yourself, pleasantly strolling through the large trees and foliage and looking for the rough girl. You find her crouching against a tree, squatting with her head between her legs.
Is she crying?
"... Ellie? Are you alright?" You whisper, not wanting to startle her.
You notice Ellie tense up before quickly standing up and whipping around to face you, a hand behind her back. "Oh! It's... you. Hey. Aren't you s'posed to be inside?"
"Yeah, but I just wanted to check on you. That was intense in there."
"Mhm, I'm good. Just needed some, ah, fresh air. Y'know?" She sounds a little too jolly, weirdly chipper. It's suspicious.
"Uh-huh," you say, unconvinced. "Whatcha got there?" You point to whatever she's trying to conceal.
She knows she's been caught. Her attitude suddenly shifts from faux-innocence to her usual snarky persona as she rolls her eyes, leaning against the tree and revealing what she had. She brings her hand up to her lips. "Nothing."
"Ellie!" You shriek. "You can't do that! Where'd you even get a cigarette?"
She laughs as if you'd said the funniest thing imaginable. "You think this is a cigarette? Are you stupid? No offense. But are you stupid?"
You scoff. "No! I mean, you're smoking it. What else am I supposed to guess?"
"A blunt, idiot. Kush. Mary Jane. Weed. Ma-ri-jua-na." She spells out for you like you're a toddler.
You cross your arms defensively. "Okay, I know what weed is, smart guy. You still shouldn't have it. Where's it from?"
"Stole it. I just wanted to see why people liked it so much. They say it relieves stress, and I think yes." Ellie grins lazily, eyes lidded. "I got another. You want?"
The answer to your question only makes you freak out more. "No! And you stole?! You stole? Oh my goodness, Ellie, you're gonna get us thrown in jail or something!"
Ellie wordlessly watches your breakdown, eyes red and amused, the corner of her mouth turned up. "Relax, man, it's barely illegal. Who's calling the cops for a single gram? Don't be lame like that."
"Lame?" You scoff. "Are you a first grader? Ellie, it's against the law, you could go to prison. And it's not juvie anymore, you're gonna go to real jail!" Your hands flail around wildly as you explain the repercussions of her actions.
"Jail..." She rolls her eyes.
"Yes, jail! That's kinda what happens when you steal something, Ellie!" The high-pitched, prissy tone with which you said her name was starting to annoy her, but the way you looked when flustered was intriguing. Maybe in another context, she'd enjoy hearing her name fall from your lips.
Ellie takes another hit, looking up at you. She tilts her head, asking if you're being serious. "Jail? Over a single blunt? Who cares that much?"
You gasp when you realize: "I'm an accomplice!"
"You're not an accessory just because you're here." She chuckles as the wind blows past and carries her smoke near your head as you duck dramatically and swat away the smoke. She looks at you for a moment, slightly smiling. Her green eyes meet yours briefly before turning her attention back to the joint.
"Why are you using it anyway? It smells rancid."
"Already told you. I wanna know why people do it. It relieves stress and I'm plenty stressed. Plus, I look dope as shit with it, right?" Ellie leans against the tree, and a small part of you wants to say yeah, you do. "You should try it. Maybe get that stick out of your ass."
"You're gonna get addicted."
"God, it's just this once. What are you gonna do, tell my dad?" She chuckles to herself, taking a long drag.
She checks you out, head to toe, examining the flowy fabrics and neat hair and the Mary Jane shoes that drive her crazy. Who wears those? Her gaze returns to meet yours, and she looks utterly dumbfounded by you. Your eyebrows furrow as you see how her expression changes. "What's that look for?"
She shrugs nonchalantly. "I dunno. You're just so robotic. It's like you never think about stepping the teensiest bit out of line. It's creepy. You've never had an independent thought in your life. Have you ever done anything even remotely rebellious?"
You make a noise that seems to say Well why would I? "No! Of course not! And you shouldn't either, I mean look at your dad, he's-"
Her voice raises, a tone you've never heard and don't care to hear again. "-My father? You mean the preacher?" She mocks. "What about him? You don't know anything about my father." Ellie's look hardens, eyes steely and mouth pursed into a thin line. It's a look you've seen maybe twice before, both in much more tense situations. Her voice says that you can't change her mind. You don't care to try. Whatever she's referencing, you believe her.
"Okay. Okay... sorry." You say gently, losing the defensive energy you'd held a moment ago. Ellie sighs and takes an irritated puff. To relax, you think.
"And you always apologize. It's so weird. You need to loosen up a bit." Another long, somehow sarcastic hit. "What's the worst thing you've *ever* done?"
An embarrassing, very private thought crosses your mind. You obviously can't tell her what you think about at night- you're barely able to admit to yourself that you have such impure thoughts. Instead, you shake your head. "Can't- I can't think of anything."
You watch her forest green eyes roll up, then down. It's a very familiar expression on her. "Thought so." She grins up at you, and you look away into the treeline nervously. "Do you wanna try something fun?"
"Is it... illegal?"
"No. Don't worry about that." She motions for you to come closer, so you take a tentative step forward, eyeing her like a wild animal. She hates the way you look at her, making her feel alien. Just because she lives authentically. It makes her want to ruin you, to have you stoop down to her level. Then maybe you won't look at her as if she were extraterrestrial.
You need an attitude adjustment, you need to chill the fuck out, you needed to get fucked, and hard. Ellie thinks she can help you with that.
She grins that toothy smirk as she watches you step closer, taking a puff and placing the blunt between her slender fingers. She doesn't miss the way your eyes trail the two long fingers that hold it. You wonder if she's doing this on purpose.
Ellie backs you up against a tree, and you recognize is as the same old oak that you would climb with her as kids. The branches and bark have left scars on you that Ellie helped you heal. She wonders how they look now.
Your back hits the trunk with an unceremonious thump, and you startle. Ellie keeps walking toward you, now getting uncomfortably close. "Uh- so what are we..." You trail off, thinking she'll explain what she's doing right in your face. She doesn't.
Her arm raises, trapping you between the tree and her body as she studies you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin, but feels incredibly electric at the same time- it's a sensation you've only felt around her, though you don't know why. She takes another hit and you nervously look away.
She tilts your jaw back to look at her. You have to face her pretty green eyes, unwavering as she stares you down, while you sneak glances just to check if she's still there. Your breath speeds up when she leans closer.
Ellie puts her stupid pink slightly chapped adorable smiling lips near the base of your neck.
"What are you doing?" You say breathlessly. You swear that you feel her ghosting over your skin, so close, yet not as close as you want her. Maybe if you lean in...
Before you can, she breathes out her smoke, lightly trailing her lips down your neck. Her tongue comes out to prod at the skin, tasting you. You whine. The smoke envelops the two of you, and your nose crinkles at the foul smell. You look down to chastise her but she's already looking at you with those eyes and that cheeky look. No matter what you say next to defend yourself, you know you're caught, that Ellie knows she's affected you. It's in your eyes, the way you've seized up so tightly, how you look at her like you can't wait to see what she does next.
She presses a chaste kiss on your collarbone and you crane your neck upward. You're not sure if you're trying to get away or if you're giving her more access. She pulls away and you find yourself leaning forward to try to get her back on you.
"Is that the most rebellious thing you've ever done?" She chuckles, taking another drag and blowing it over you, bathing you in the white haze. "You like being treated like that, huh?"
You shiver. "I don't get it," you say dumbly. You've never been this confused.
"What don't you get? I just think it's fun to make you squirm." She thinks you've had enough and blows her next exhale away from you. "I wanna corrupt you, sweetheart." It sounds derogatory coming from her but you find that you don't mind the tone. The spot Ellie had made contact with feels as if it's burning. You crave for that feeling all over your body.
You stammer over your words, pathetically unable to spit out any sort of coherent reaction to her. Any reaction would be better to tripping over your words. Fed up with trying to sound like a person, you decide to stop talking.
"You enjoyed that huh? Admit it." She inhales and repeats her action. "Makes you feel hot inside."
"What? No- no, are you insane?" The sane part of you is telling you that you shouldn't be doing this, especially not with Ellie fucking Williams of all people. She's everything you aren't- she's rude and snarky and devilish... and tall and strong and hot. Oh shit! The batshit insane part of you is slowly melting the angel on your shoulder, and you can basically see the little devil cackling as you feel yourself straying further from the good girl persona you'd cultivated. You feel your heartbeat in your pants.
Ellie begins to kiss down your neck, sucking and licking at your jaw and collarbone. This time, you're acutely aware that you're actively giving her access to do as she pleases with you. "Maybe I'm insane, but I can tell. You did like it. And if you deny, I'll do it again until you tell the truth."
"Well I didn't, so you can forget about-"
She places her thumb on your lower lip as you start your tirade, effectively shutting you up. "Too late." Ellie leans in and before you know it, her lips are on yours. Her arm snakes around the back of your waist and pulls you as close to her as you've ever been. That warm feeling flushes down your body, leaving chills across your skin. More. All you can think is that you want more. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders, you almost want to push her away, but you find yourself pulling her closer and closer. No room for the Holy Spirit.
Ellie pulls away, smugly looking down at you. "Told you you liked it."
"I didn't say that." You were being a contrarian on purpose at this point. Anything to keep Ellie treating you like this- you wanted to prolong this moment for however long you could. She hoists you up, bringing you out of the park and into the back of the parking lot. She throws you into the backseat of her beaten pickup and crawls atop you with darkened eyes.
You squeal in surprise. "El-lie!"
She continues to kiss you, making you wetter by the second. The heat pooling in your panties is so fucking embarrassing, but you find that you don't care how humiliating this is. You just want more.
"Els, what if someone sees?"
She scoffs as if the idea is preposterous; as if the prospect of getting caught is impossible. "Nobody can see us, and they won't leave until later. Don't stress about it." Ellie bites her lip and it makes your body get hot flushes. "I can do whatever I want to you. But you know what? I think you'd let me. Is that right?"
"...Maybe." Read: Yes, yes, anything! She leans down, placing her hand on the back of your neck and pulling your head closer up towards her. Her hand forces your legs apart further to allow her access. The way she lays on your inner thighs, atop your clothed core, makes you feel lightheaded. You love the way she manhandles you, and it's exactly how you thought she'd be. Every time she adjusts her position, your clit rubs against her and sends jolts of electricity up your body.
"I knew it. You're not as perfect as you try to be. You're dirty."
You want to deny it, you really do, but the evidence is clear. You're disheveled under her, lips swollen from hers, and she's pulling your panties to your ankles and shoving them in her jacket pocket, yet you're ashamed to say that you don't feel an ounce of guilt over it.
Despite how excited you are for whatever is about to happen, you're still incredibly nervous. This is the most physically vulnerable you've ever been with another person, and the fact that you're completely bare under your skirt makes your stomach flip.
Your face must betray your emotions because Ellie momentarily softens. She pulls her hands away from your hips and cups your face, peppering kisses across your cheeks and up to your forehead, making you laugh lightly. "You alright? We can stop."
"No... please don't." Her face lights up.
"Sorry, say that again?" You roll your eyes and she chuckles. "I knew you were like this. Not so pure now, huh?"
"Guess not."
"So you admit it?"
"...Fine. Yes."
Ellie sighs in relief as if her thirst were quenched- that's what she's been wanting to hear from you forever. She could see it in the way you snuck glances at her during mass, finding your wandering, hungry eyes from across the room. She could feel it in the way your hand lingered on her a little too long to be friendly, your touch suspiciously light, like if you touched her any harder you'd start to tremor.
But now, there's no semblance of the timid person you'd been. When Ellie pulls away, your hand comes up to the back of her neck to pull her back in. You're insatiable, and Ellie fucking loves it. She tugs at the bottom of your sweater. "Pull that fucking thing off. Show me those pretty tits." Her breath becomes heavy as you oblige and become needier. "Did you know you were this easy?" She teases.
"What? I'm- I'm not." Everything she says feels designed to evoke the biggest reaction from you. She keeps you on your toes, never letting you get too comfortable. How exciting.
"So it's just for me then?" You don't answer, and it excites Ellie to know that she's right. This reaction is purely for her. Nobody else has seen you like this, and she's grateful to be the one who gets to corrupt you. It really didn't take much effort. "You're so easy to control."
Her hands drift back to your thighs, sliding under your skirt, her lips press to your jawline. Hot breath trails along your neck, down further to your collarbone. Her fingers slide over your inner thighs, sensitive skin rippling as she applies light pressure, testing how reactive you are. You twitch, unwittingly opening your legs more and giving Ellie more access. "You look good like this, though."
Ellie's fingers dig into you, grasping the flesh of your ass and moaning softly into your ear. Her thumbs are on either side of where you desperately need her, and your hips buck up into her, seeking her touch. "Knew you had a nice ass, too."
"Shut up." You mumble.
"Why would I? You like it when I say things like that, don't you? You wouldn't be this drenched if you didn't." She swipes the pad of her thumb over your clit and applies delicious pressure. You nearly cum on the spot.
Is this what you've been missing? This pleasure, this euphoria? Ellie grins at your reaction, drinking in your desperation for her like a succubus. "Aw, sensitive little pussy. Haven't you touched yourself like this before?"
You had, a few times, actually, but it never went this far, deep-rooted guilt gnashing in your stomach and ending the moment before you'd been able to finish. After admitting this, she coos at you. "Poor baby." Her tone is so condescending, but it makes you clench around the tip of her fingers.
She slides the first knuckle of two fingers past your entrance, pumping them in and out painfully slowly. "Ellie, you prick. Come on." She continues her ministrations, gently stroking your entrance, never giving you enough to feel remotely satisfied. She uses this time to take in your disheveled, sweaty appearance. Your cute tits bounce as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for Ellie to please you. A bead of sweat rolls down and she can't help but bring her mouth up to lick at it as it slides over your nipple. Her mouth attaches to you and you sigh, holding her closer by her hair. She grins up at you, making eye contact through her lashes. You can see the tip of her tongue poking out, wetting your bud as the cool air nips at you, making you all the more sensitive. Even now, Ellie still hasn't stopped her teasing below.
"Can't call me a prick then beg for me to fuck you. 's not how it works, pretty girl."
"Then what do you want?" You whine.
Ellie can feel your clit flutter and pulse as she moves. "Fuck, you're so desperate for me, aren't you? I want you to tell me how bad y' want me."
"I- I d-" You begin to protest, being cut off with a squeal as Ellie licks a sloppy stripe up your pussy, finally tasting you.
"Don't bullshit me. If I'm gonna fuck you, I needja to be a little more honest with me. I see how you look at me. You been trying to push some thoughts down, huh?"
It was so humiliating how well she could read you. Whenever her tongue came out of her mouth to take communion, your eyes would be trained on the muscle, breath hitching as she would wink at you. Without fail, you would trail your gaze up her body when Ellie walked in with a suit, her way of dressing nicely for service. Always, always, she could feel the heat radiating off your body as she pulled you closer, not taking her eyes off the pastor speaking.
Your thoughts were impure, sinful, and how embarrassing that Ellie knew. You believed you were hiding it well- obviously not.
"Yeah. Maybe."
Ellie's big hands wrap around your thighs, fingers landing on the sensitive skin near your pussy. She looks up at you and you can feel her hot breath on your clit. It takes everything in Ellie to not eat you out immediately, but your embarrassment is too tempting to pass up.
"Tell me about it. You try to fuck yourself thinkin' of me?"
"I do. I- I tried to, at least. Doesn't work."
"Why not, babe? You're so responsive right now." Her fingers find their place back at your entrance, pushing in as you speak.
"I- oh, shit-" You gasp.
Ellie grins. "Talk to me."
"My fingers aren't good enough."
"Ah," she says, "and mine are?" She knows the answer.
"So good."
Ellie likes that she's made you desperate enough that you've abandoned your pride. She enjoys the flush on your face as you shamelessly admit your secrets to her, the good-girl persona a figment of the past.
She's so busy staring up at how your face contorts in pleasure that she doesn't realize that she hasn't moved her fingers in a hot minute. The teasing is torturous for you.
"Ellie," she hears you whine, "Please!" You rut your hips against her fingers and she feels lightheaded. Jesus fucking Christ.
"Sorry, pretty girl. Got distracted." She smirks. "I'll give you what you want now." Ellie finally moves her fingers, curling them in and out slowly. You groan again and she laughs. "Okay, okay! Sorry." Her face darkens and she bites her lip. "You want me to fuck you? Alright, I'll fuck you."
Ellie's fingers begin to pump inside you, hitting all the spots that make you jump and squirm, and you're sure the rusted heap of a car you're in is about to fall off its chassis. She's going so fast and hard that you're immediately overwhelmed and you don't know where to put your hands. In the span of a minute, they cup your face, a forearm slings over your eyes, and you throw your arms up against the window. Finally, you settle on cupping your cheeks, fingers slit open so you can peer down at Ellie's focus on you.
Her eyes haven't left your pussy since she started. She's absolutely mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, how you seem to suck her fingers back in as she tries to pull out and your body betrays how desperately you want her. Ellie's mouth is slightly agape and she can't help when her tongue flickers out to lick curiously at your clit, wanting to taste you again.
"Fu- fuck!" You yelp, bucking your hips up into her face. Ellie snorts as she watches how you squirm. You can feel something building and though you have an idea of what it is, it's building fast and slightly scaring you. "Wait, Els, hold on a second, something- ah- I think- I think I'm-"
You're nervous about how it creeps up on you so suddenly but you find there isn't time to be self-conscious about it because you cum, and you wonder why God could possibly think that doing this is a sin. How could it be a sin if it felt so right?
You don't know what sound you made or how your face looks, but by the way Ellie looks up at you, it must've been something. Her eyes flicker back down to how your clit pulses as you finish, leaking cum onto her fingers and trailing down her hand. You know what she's fucking thinking because you always do. Before you can form a sentence, she's licking up your cum like it's the best meal she's tasted.
You shudder violently. "Ellie, holy fuck, stop, I'm still sensitive! Oh m- Ellie, come on!" Only when you push her face up does she stop, giving you the cheekiest grin.
You roll your eyes and throw your head back against the car door, panting. The dull ache in your thighs is apparent when you attempt to sit, pulling your panties up and cringing at how your cum pools on them.
Ellie still hasn't said anything. You glance over at her, wondering how she feels about whatever just happened. She's looking down, grey hoodie still pulled up to her elbows, staring at the fingers she'd just fucked you with. She glances up at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. 
“That was hot.” Her hand rubs up and down your thigh, a kind of comfort you’d never received from her. It wasn’t unwelcome.
You don’t quite know how to feel. There are twinges of guilt gnawing at your stomach, that religious guilt creeping in. Had you done something wrong? 
But at the same time, there was a warmth in Ellie’s gaze that made you feel like maybe, it was all worth it. Was it unholy? Almost definitely. But this awakening couldn’t be all bad if she kept looking at you with those soft, fond eyes.
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my masterlist...
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astonmartinii · 5 months
Text
big reputation part two | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader
a new season dawns but that doesn't mean we don't have a map to our buried hatchets
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE
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charles_leclerc
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,221,783 others
charles_leclerc: ferrari has been home for as long as i can remember, even before i joined the academy, the dream of driving for ferrari gave me a purpose. i am heartbroken it hasn't worked out, but formula one is, at the end of the day, a selfish sport and i have to think about my real goal here: to win a championship. ferrari has an amazing history, but that is what it is history. in the four years i have been here i haven't seen the drive and ambition to be as ruthless and as complete as they were with michael and with kimi. therefore i have to leave. it hurts me to leave the tifosi, but know you're always in my heart and i will always hold dear your support. grazie regazzi essere ferrari ❤️
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user3: i knew it was coming but HOLY FUCK CHARLIE COME HOME
user4: tifosi lecfosi YES SIR
user5: for real i'm down for him not that clown team
yourusername: i'm proud of you charlie, i knew how much this took. but you have to put yourself first at some point. i love you
charles_leclerc: i love you too. i'm sorry i can't stop crying
yourusername: no i love that you are so passionate. it's been a long season and you're finally allowed to let it all out
charles_leclerc: can we go to a rage room?
yourusername: FUCK YEA
maxverstappen1: pretty please may i join. i have a lot of rage. call it teammate bonding?
charles_leclerc: give me a tow in bahrain quali?
maxverstappen1: fine (NO ONE SCREENSHOT THIS OR HOLD ME TO IT)
yourusername: at least this one i don't mind having to third wheel us
user6: the SHADE that's mother right there
user7: trying to stay insanely normal over the fact that max, charles and y/n are besties
pierregasly: congrats calmar, HOWEVER, i though i was your favourite third wheel 🥰
yourusername: but you bring kika ??? how can you third wheel if kika is there? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO COUNT?
charles_leclerc: thank you pear i love you brother
user8: i love how this is some super sentimental post and y/n is asking pierre if he can count i hope they never change
landonorris: max as fave third wheel ??? @alexalbon @georgerussll63 twitch quartet erasure
yourusername: womp womp
alexalbon: WOMP WOMP?
charles_leclerc: guys i'm sad about leaving my dream team where is the compassion?
georgerussell63: yeah boo hoo there are bigger things at play here I DID NOT SIT THROUGH YOUR TEN HOUR MELTDOWN ON AN APPROPRIATE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY GIFT NOT TO BE TOP THIRD WHEEL
yourusername: you fools really will argue about anything huh
landonorris: this is the sanctity of our friendship on the line here
user9: the grid was really like YOU might be sad about leave ferrari but we ain't
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,421,455 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: holibobs with sharlie
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user10: i love as soon as the season finishes charles becomes THEE instagram boyf
user11: j.peg account? no. just taking photos of y/n? YES.
charles_leclerc: i have an eye for beauty
yourusername: heheheheheheehehehehehee
alexalbon: so he can use a camera? why does he only take 0.5s of me?
yourusername: the best angle for your big ol dome
alexalbon: EXCUSE ME ?
yourusername: yeah sorry that was a bit far
alexalbon: it's like you got off the ferrari leash and now we all have to suffer
yourusername: WELP
charles_leclerc: ma belle, the only one i'll actually listen to and put sun cream on
yourusername: yes you will because we...
charles_leclerc: put spf on everyday !!
yourusername: yes! because...
charles_leclerc: we're scared of aging?
yourusername: no?
charles_leclerc: we want to be safe 👍
maxverstappen1: you guys done with the kindergarten reading lessons?
yourusername: have you seen lobster leclerc? this kind of work needed to be done
user12: lobster leclerc? goodbye, goodbye, goodbye you were bigger than the whole sky
user13: see now i'm confused cause why are some papers saying that they're breaking up? or that charles is embarrassed by the way y/n acts?
user14: bestie we've been through this DON'T TRUST THOSE HOES - TRUST THESE HOES
liked by yourusername
user15: unless i see it from the horse's mouth I WILL NEVER BELIEVE THEY'VE BROKEN UP
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redbullracing
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liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 882,339 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1
redbullracing: charles the qualifying king takes his first pole position for red bull in his first race and is joined by max for a front row lockout
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user18: UNWELL
user19: suck on that ferrari xoxo
user20: *rubs eyes* is that... max being happy to be challenged by a teammate ???
user21: winning three championships really takes the heat off huh
yourusername: THAT'S MY MAN YALL
charles_leclerc: love you baby
yourusername: love you too darling
maxverstappen1: love you three 🫶
yourusername: this is not the problem i thought we'd have when coming to red bull
maxverstappen1: my gf can't make most of the races so you WILL deal with me
user22: max being clingy to charles and y/n is so fucking funny to me
user23: sainz not making it out of q1? shwartzman only making it to q2 but still out qualifying carlos? charles looking sexy in blue? EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST CHARLES LECLERC SHALL FALL
christianhorner: mega job boys, let's keep our eyes on tomorrow
maxverstappen1: tell them they have to let me come to dinner with them
christianhorner: isn't this the exact reason we rehired daniel
charles_leclerc: PLEASE MAKE DANIEL COME TO THE NEXT RACE
maxverstappen1: erm rude
charles_leclerc: i'm sorry i'm not used to a teammate that actually wants to be friends for real
yourusername: EXCEPT SEB WE LOVE SEB
yourusername: but for real max emilian i am monitoring the dutch papers... be very careful
user24: healthy teammate relationships (for now) ??? is this what heaven is like
user25: are you telling me that if max doesn't get the lead in the first lap he might actually HELP charles .... a certain spanish individual could never
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charles_leclerc
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,778,451 others
tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc: wow !! a 1 - 2 in our first race i couldn't be happier. this car is a dream to drive and i'm so grateful to red bull for being so welcoming. teamwork makes the dream work
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user26: tears in my eyes
user27: okay i understand both of them are like with their forever partners but lestappen is also real TWO THINGS CAN EXIST AT ONCE
yourusername: SHARLIE OMG YOU TALENTED, TALENTED KING
charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
yourusername: crying sesh. sharlie's drivers room @ 8. bring your own alcohol and tissues
charles_leclerc: just to make sure everyone knows THESE ARE HAPPY TEARS
landonorris: SAP ALERT GET IT TOGETHER MAN
yourusername: i know lando no-wins ain't talking rn 🤨
charles_leclerc: you walked into that one buddy
landonorris: just because i'm friends with carlos doesn't mean you have to come after me like him ...
this comment has been deleted
yourusername: bold... real bold. you're lucky i'm doing meditation and yoga (and that i want to make a good impression on christian)
alexalbon: lando do NOT look at the text she just sent your your ego CANNOT take it
user28: no no no do spill... i need the ammo if he ever takes out my fave
user29: true i need it for the next time either of the ugly twins at ferrari open their gobs
oscarpiastri: it was brutal. they need to get y/n to host the reading challenge on drag race
yourusername: oscar knows drag race?
oscarpiastri: i might be an athlete but i'm not completely uncultured
maxverstappen1: if we're talking being cultured... GET READY FOR YOUR FIRST RED BULL PARTY
yourusername: born ready my university years singlehandedly financed your 'catering budget'
charles_leclerc: no really i think she's actually addicted to the tropical one
maxverstappen1: are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT WAS YOU WHO DRANK ALL OF THEM
yourusername: and what?
maxverstappen1: idk i'm still kinda scared of you
user30: the way charles deflected the questions about fred and sainz ? WE'RE FREEEEEEEEE
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yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,311,723 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: i wanna be your end game <3
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user32: you guys better be end game or like you're paying for my therapy
user33: i respect her dedication to go to every race, make ferrari staff tremble in fear and pull LOOKS
charles_leclerc: i want to be your first string
yourusername: what if we just called taylor up?
charles_leclerc: you know here you call her i'm nervous
yourusername: @taylorswift paris night one, lover and this is me trying ft. charles on the piano?
taylorswift: sure thing
charles_leclerc: why was that so easy?
yourusername: better get practising baby
charles_leclerc: OH GOD
user34: how did we get red bull charles and a taylor collab in one year?
user35: i guess we used up charles' good luck from the last four years SORRY CHARLES
charles_leclerc: i guess you're forgiven...
maxverstappen1: so could you like tell me what you'd call me if i hypothetically fucked charles over... i'm not gonna but like i need to mentally prepare myself to hear it
yourusername: i have faith in you so i haven't thought that far ahead
maxverstappen1: can you please not be too mean i can't take it
charles_leclerc: you wanna come to therapy with me buddy?
maxverstappen1: i think i might
yourusername: when we entered the reputation era i did not think it would lead to taking max verstappen to therapy
maxverstappen1: and taylor swift?
yourusername: ... and taylor swift
user36: this is all very cute and all but can we have mean y/n back
user37: when will yall learn that reputation is a love album and y/n and charles are just loving each other freely
user38: but mean y/n did teach someone a lesson in not spreading false rumours cause them tabloids have been QUIET
f1tea
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liked by user43, user44 and 7,233 others
f1tea: carlos sainz was caught liking these tweets about charles leclerc and y/n y/ln, what do you think?
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user45: put me in the ring with carlos i am being so serious
user46: okay for a while i was on the fence about y/n and how intense she was being but like seeing this shit and realising it was probably what was being said in the garage she needed to do more
user47: for real if someone said that about my boyfriend i'd be in prison
user48: so charles and y/n were under contract to not say a word out of line about ferrari or anything to do with ferrari and this guy is out here liking this
user49: call me a conspiracy theorist but this was his public account... he meant for people to find it and wants people to know this stuff
user50: this is why he DNFed in the first race KARMA
user51: maybe this is why he's always the one with relationship issues bro clearly has no loyalty
user52: charles has never said anything about him even now and y/n only said something in retaliation
user53: fuck peace and love y/n needs to give this man hell
user54: read him for filth
user55: bro needs to keep his twitter fingers to himself and focus on not being in the wall ❤️
charles_leclerc
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,311,885 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: this is why we can't have nice things, darling
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user56: this is the most response we'll ever get from charles i fear
user57: allow me to elaborate: this is why we can't have nice things by taylor swift is about 'forgiving' the people who wronged you but she literally says "and here's to you because forgiveness is a nice thing to do... i can't even say it with a straight face" so basically charles doesn't forgive carlos or fred. and it specifically shouts out her family and friends and lover for sticking with her which is what charles' family, friends and y/n have done
liked by charles_leclerc
user58: thank you for service
yourusername: i'm reading what they call you lately (it says you're a race winner and a title contender)
charles_leclerc: got a taste of the celebrations and can't get enough
maxverstappen1: KEEP IT PG THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE
charles_leclerc: you're older than me
yourusername: all we said were celebrations, if anything you have the dirty mind 🤨
maxverstappen1: i am usually in the room next to you, i hope this helps
charles_leclerc: our bad <3
maxverstappen1: you don't care do you?
yourusername: not really no. when we get to the same amount of wins as you maybe it'll wear off
maxverstappen1: not on my watch
user58: is this an entertaining title fight but without the bad blood?
user59: and nowhere near ferrari? bless
alexalbon: i hate that i understand all these references
yourusername: lily trained you well
lilymunhe: like a drill sergeant
yourusername: as you should
sebastianvettel: proud of you charlie, i'm glad you're not wasting your talent
charles_leclerc: i love you seb, i'm sorry it took so long
sebastianvettel: make sure you win here, we can be ferrari failures together
yourusername: *ferrari failed you
sebastianvettel: i knew there was a reason i liked you
fin.
note: SOZ. so like i am still working on requests but that radio message FUCKED ME UP. so this had to happen. glad my queen girls (max and charles) did well today, hope you enjoyed !!!
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