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writeyouin · 3 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Misery Loves Company

A/N – Okay, so for anyone who loves Stand-up comedy as much as I do, I highly recommend you watch Daniel Sloss’ tour, Dark. That’s his first tour, and it was where he coined the term Wanker-Anchor, which is used in this story.

Warnings – None.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy @midoria-kinnie @meesachan @fusehoundshipper @velvettenoctus @crescent-z @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @rosiescannibalwife @skylerbutterfly @hamthepan @latersgaters-steven @kryptidkova @sleepyhead-number27 @cherry-4200 @harcourtholmesii @alastorandluciferspouse @holyspacething @kedelman24 @becsmarvel @vash-yuu

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

“Whoa,” Charlie said upon seeing you.

She had seen your Demonic form before, but it was a rarity and it usually meant that you weren’t doing well mentally.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sucking in air through her teeth, her voice pitching high, indicating that she already knew the answer but didn’t want to point out the obvious in case it upset you further.

“I’m fine,” You answered shortly.

“Really? Because you uh, well,” Charlie twisted her hands back and forth, “You uh, you look a little- I mean, hey, I think you’re beautiful inside and out but when you’re like this it usually means- It’s normally-”

“You’re fucked up,” Vaggie finished for her, getting straight to the point.

“I’m fine,” You insisted, using the words everyone used when they were decidedly not fine. “Where’s Angel Dust?”

“In his room,” Vaggie explained.

“What happened? He was doing so well.”

Charlie’s eyes welled up with tears and she threw her arms around you, sobbing out an explanation, “It was my fault. I asked him about his contract, and he told me not to worry, but I did worry, and then I wanted to make sure he’d be okay when me and Vaggie go to visit Heaven, but he said he didn’t need a babysitter, and then I got Husk involved and Husk told me not to fuck with things I don’t understand, and then Valentino came-”

“Wait, Valentino came here?!” You pulled Charlie off you so you could look her in the eyes.

“Well, not exactly, but he sent his crew here and told Angel they had to film and I said no, and-”

You left Charlie and ran to Angel’s room. Both Charlie and Vaggie followed you as you pelted through the corridors. No wonder Angel had relapsed. That piece of shit Valentino had used Angel’s contract against him. As part of the deal they had made, Angel had to do any work Valentino demanded of him, and that fucking scumbag had dared to invade the one place where Angel felt safe.

Knowing Charlie, she would have pointed out that Valentino couldn’t use her property and would have to wait for Angel at the studio, but that wouldn’t matter. Valentino would play by the rules; it wasn’t really about filming at the Hotel, it was all a matter of proving that Angel belonged to him and that there was no safe place he could hide away.

Besides, even if Valentino hadn’t gotten his way at the Hotel, he would take it out on Angel the next time he was in the studio. It was a lose-lose situation, something that Hell was always too eager to provide.

When you got to Angel’s room, you paused to compose yourself. It wouldn’t help if you sounded too desperate or concerned; Angel didn’t respond well to that. It would make him blame himself for making you worry, and then he would spiral further.

You knocked on the door, “Hey Angel, it’s us. Can we come in please?”

“Go away,” Angel’s heavy accent came through the door, marking him more as Anthony than Angel Dust, though you didn’t say anything about that; there were very few people who knew his real name, and he didn’t like to be reminded of it.

For better or worse, he was Angel Dust; that was who he needed to be to survive.

You glanced at Charlie and Vaggie, then tilted your head, indicating that they should leave. Charlie hesitated until Vaggie placed a hand on her shoulder, then after an affirming nod from you, she let Vaggie lead her away.

“Come on Angel,” You said when they were gone. “It’s just me. Let me in.”

“Piss off.”

You sighed, then sat outside the door, and began talking. You didn’t have a grand speech planned, only what was on your mind, and if Angel wasn’t going to let you in, then it became a matter of letting him know that he wasn’t alone and that you wouldn’t abandon him, though you would respect his space.

“I get it. Valentino fucked with you. He love-bombed you, and that didn’t fucking work because you’re stronger than he is and you’re not going to fall for his shitty manipulation tactics. Now, he’s sending his goons here. It’s all just another one of his games, Angel. Don’t let him win.”

There was no response. You stayed quiet for a minute then were struck with a thought; misery loves company.

“Hey, I also kind of feel like shit today, you know? I kept thinking about Hell and… a lot of things. I told Charlie’s dad how I died. That was fucked up.”

Again, there was no response, but you thought you heard Angel shuffle closer to the door. Until that evening, nobody had heard anything about your mortal life, and now you were talking about it for the second time.

“I was murdered for a snuff film. I still have nightmares about it.”

There was a bluntness to your tone. Although it hurt to state the memory aloud again, albeit in less detail, you decided not to put too much thought into it. If your death could help someone, well, there had to be some good in bringing it up.

You stared at the peeling red wallpaper across from you, just so you had something to focus on. “I’m terrified that one day, I’m gonna walk down the street and see the guys that killed me. Like, what do you even do in that situation? Call them out? They’re in Hell, that’s punishment enough, right? Will they find it funny to see me again? Find new ways to hurt me?”

I honestly don’t know what I want in this scenario. I don’t want them to die, ‘cos then they’ll be here, but if they live, they’ll do this to other people. Kidnap them, sell them to the highest bidder, film it for the black market. I dunno… I’ve been here for a year, and I keep thinking about that.”

The door opened and you fell back, looking up at Angel’s concerned face.

“That’s the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard.”

He lifted you up, setting you right with two arms, while the other two brushed you off.

“So… this is you?” He asked, taking in your rag-doll appearance.

You laughed and imitated his voice, your Demonic abilities kicking in to mimic him perfectly, “I can be anything you want, bay-by.”

“That’s the hottest you’ve ever sounded.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You waved him off blasély. “Just let me in, okay? I can help.”

“So, uh, with the voice, and the-” Angel gestured at your new look, moving his hands in a circular motion, “Can you uh- Be other people?”

“I don’t know,” You said slowly, looking at your hands, “Never tried.”

You concentrated for a moment, trying to transform back to your original self. Usually, it was effortless. Yet, as you stared at the stitches that bound you together, you found it difficult to do more than revert to your original skin colour. Seeing that beneath the stitches was somehow worse, so you stopped trying to change, accepting that for now, you were a ragdoll.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Fuck it. I am what I am, and that’s all that I am.”

You caught sight of Angel’s precious pet pig. Scooping him up into your arms and cuddling him, you cooed in a baby voice, “Besides, you still love me, don’t you Fat Nuggets, yeeeees, precious baby.”

Sitting down on Angel’s bed, you looked up at your friend, deciding that it was better not to let the difficult conversation wait and fester.

“Soooo…” You scratched Fat Nuggets behind the ear, “Charlie told me that you relapsed. Wanna talk about it?”

Angel sighed and flopped back onto the bed so he was lying next to you, his legs planted on the floor.

He dragged two hands over his face, the other two lay despondently over his stomach.

“I- It was just such a shitty day, and Val sent those pricks here, not that they could fill any holes. Wrong kind of pricks, you know?” He half laughed, but it died when he realised the joke wasn’t funny in such a shitty situation.

Still, you smiled at him. When Angel was sad, he didn’t always need someone to sympathise with him. He needed to see that you weren’t going to change and start treating him differently. Sometimes that meant just listening, but other times it meant making the meanest jokes you could think of and laughing at how horrible everything was.

You were his Wanker-anchor, chaining him to reality by being a dick; Husk was the best at it, but seeing as he was nowhere to be found, Angel had you instead.

“Here,” Angel held up a small sealed bag, with his stash in it. So, he hadn’t relapsed after all. He’d just come very close.

“No thanks,” You joked, “I’m full from all the crack I had at breakfast.”

Angel got up and punched your arm, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” You took his stash, tucking it away in your pocket, then you stood up, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed, and you offered Angel your hand. “Come on.”

“What-”

“You need a distraction. So, I challenge you, Angel Dust, teach me how to dance.”

“You’re fucking kiddin’, right?”

You shook your head. “You can dance, I can’t and I’m bored. So, come on, give me some lessons. It’ll be good to get moving.”

“When you fail, can I call you a retard?”

“Fuck no. You can’t say retard anymore, what the fuck is wrong with you. You can insult the shit outta me, but keep your terms acceptable, okay?”

Honestly, Angel had thought he was up to date on what insults and trash talk were deemed acceptable, but evidently, he was wrong.

“Alright, I’ll teach you to dance, but you gotta keep me updated on all the latest slang, and what’s changed up there,” He glanced up as if he could see Earth.

“I’ve been dead a year, bud. A lot can change in that time,” You said, thinking about all the ways you were probably outdated.

Angel grabbed his phone and turned up the tunes, “Sounds like a coward’s excuse to get outta teaching.”

And so it was that you and Angel started to dance. It was nothing like his work, or when he was forced to pimp himself out in clubs as a form of ‘networking.’ Instead, it was stupid, fun, and uncoordinated with you as his partner. Christ, he had never danced with someone so terrible. You let him lead, and together, the two of you laughed at each other’s expense and forgot all about the shitty things that had happened that day.

Up in his Radio Station, Alastor grinned sinisterly. He had heard you quite clearly as he went about his business in the Hotel. You were murdered? How delightful. Victims were so easy to manipulate. Furthermore, you were a ragdoll. Oh, how wonderfully he could exploit that power.

All it would take was an invitation of friendship, a desperate situation, and an offer of assistance. When Alastor had sent Husk away on an errand earlier, he hadn’t imagined it would turn out so wonderfully.

Now, there was a new piece on the chessboard, and Alastor was determined to capture you as his pawn.

Your soul would be his.

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thrumbolt · 7 months

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Top 5 most annoying Tamlin scene misinterpretations

1. ''There is no such thing as a high lady'' I hate this one, because it is always taken as some sort of proof that Tamlin is a raging misogynist who doesn't want an equal woman by his side or some similar type of nonsense. I don't know where this is coming from. Tamlin never wanted to be a high lord. He would probably welcome for someone to take over most of the work so he could just keep running through the woods. He also has absolutely no issues with taking advice from women in power (Ianthe? Hello??). His first reaction to the high lady question is literally this:

“Is everyone just going to call me ‘Tamlin’s wife’? Do I get a … title?” He lifted his head long enough to look at me. “Do you want a title?”

And let's not forget that Feyre's first reply is ''No, I don’t know if I can handle them calling me High Lady”. To which he then answers that she doesn't have to worry about that, since ''there is no such thing as a high lady'' because the magic choses the title and it keeps chosing males. Also this whole scene happens while he eats her out. Not that it's relevant or anything, just saying...

2. ''Tamlin killed Rhys' family'' No. Tamlin's dad killed Rhys' family. I have no idea how Tamlin doing it is ever the takeaway from that whole story. Let's just quote the actual scene:

“Tamlin’s father, brothers, and Tamlin himself set out into the Illyrian wilderness, having heard from Tamlin—from me—where my mother and sister would be, that I had plans to see them. I was supposed to be there. I wasn’t. And they slaughtered my mother and sister anyway.”

Yeah okay, Tamlin gave the information (supposedly) and was there (supposedly) sure, but it's highly unlikely that he was so willingly. Let's not forget that it's established that Tamlin was afraid of his father, that Tamlin's father is worse than Beron (who, I might remind you, tortures his sons) and that Tamlin was friends with Rhys at the time - which neither family approved of. Even Rhys doesn't actually believe Tamlin did anything besides being spineless:

''I didn’t care that Tamlin had been there, had allowed them to kill my mother and sister, that he’d come to kill me because he didn’t want to risk standing against them.''

In the end we don't know the details. Tamlin could've been tortured and tied up or whatever. Making him watch could've been a cruel form of punishment for being friends with Rhys. We don't really know until SJM graces us with Tamlin's side of the story.

3. ''It's really Tamlin's own fault that the spring court fell'' Alternatively also phrased as: 'Feyre just opened everyone's eyes to Tamlin's incompetence' and....honestly? This low key makes me question the reading comprehension of people.

Yes, Tamlin made a deal with Hybern, which was extremely risky, but the war was coming regardless (as we learn from Rhys in the first half of ACOMAF) and the spring court would be the main target because of its location next to the wall. Inviting Hybern into his lands in a trade is actually a pretty smart way to avoid a lot of death on Tamlin's part - plus he needed help to rescue Feyre and get her out of the deal she had with Rhysand (people forget that Tamlin didn't know Feyre didn't actually need rescuing from the guy that was abusing her in front of him in ACOTAR).

So yeah anyway, Feyre did several things to make the spring court fall: 1. She manipulated the solstice ceremony to make herself seem cauldron-blessed in the eyes of the people, 2. She made a sentry accuse Ianthe (who WAS doing sneaky shit) which essentially did nothing except putting Tamlin on the spot in front of Hybern, so he was kind of forced to throw the sentry under the bus. Good job Feyre, you got a poor sod whipped! But it also built resentment within the soldiers, which was her plan all along and 3. before leaving, she did this (let's just quote the whole thing):

''I had a people who had lost faith in their High Priestess. I had sentries who were beginning to rebel against their High Lord. And as a result of those things, I had Hybern royals doubting the strength of their allies here. I’d primed this court to fall. Not from outside forces—but its own internal warring. And I had to be clear of it before it happened. Before the last sliver of my plan fell into place. The party would return without me. And to maintain that illusion of strength, Tamlin and Ianthe would lie about it—where I’d gone. And perhaps a day or two after that, one of these sentries would reveal the news, a carefully sprung trap that I’d coiled into his mind like one of my snares. I’d fled for my life—after being nearly killed by the Hybern prince and princess. I’d planted images in his head of my brutalized body, the markings consistent with what Dagdan and Brannagh had already revealed to be their style. He’d describe them in detail—describe how he helped me get away before it was too late. How I ran for my life when Tamlin and Ianthe refused to intervene, to risk their alliance with Hybern. And when the sentry revealed the truth, no longer able to stomach keeping quiet when he saw how my sorry fate was concealed by Tamlin and Ianthe, just as Tamlin had sided with Ianthe the day he’d flogged that sentry …When he described what Hybern had done to me, their Cursebreaker, their newly anointed Cauldron-blessed, before I’d fled for my life … There would be no further alliance. For there would be no sentry or denizen of this court who would stand with Tamlin or Ianthe after this. After me.''

So, the sentries left Tamlin because of a lie. A fake story. Without sentries, Hybern decided to take over rather than just be guests and had a prime spot to attack the summer court in turn. Which is also why Tarquin is extremely pissed at Feyre - not Tamlin. So no, Tamlin wasn't a bad high lord. His only real mistake was ever trusting Feyre.

Sure, some argue that Feyre thought Tamlin genuinely sided with Hybern and might be a threat to the rest of Prythian, so taking him down would make sense for her even outside of petty revenge. But there's just one problem with that: Feyre is a mind reader. She could have just.....checked. lol

4. ''Tamlin didn't do anything Under the Mountain'' This one really gets my goat because it's not really true? Things Tamlin did to help Feyre: 1. He sent her away to the human realm. (People forget this, but he basically doomed his court to protect her ass - it's not his fault she came back!) 2. He made Lucien check up on her. (Yes Lucien was Feyre's friend but he still acted under Tamlin's orders!) 3. He ignored Feyre as to not rile Amarantha up even more (Come on, have you seen Amarantha? It totally makes sense) 4. He tries to get to Feyre, begging Amarantha to stop even as he is tied up, bleeding out from a stab wound to his chest that he can't heal because he has no powers - like what do you want him to do??? 4. He literally kills Amarantha the second he is able to

Also personal conspiracy detour: That music that Rhysand supposedly sent to Feyre was SO originally supposed to be Tamlin, you can't convince me otherwise. I will never not believe that this wasn't just a lazily done quick change when SJM rewrote book 1 and 2 to account for the boyfriend switcheroo. Attributing the music to Rhys makes absolutely zero sense. He's not a musical boy at all, come on! Music themes never come up with him again either! Meanwhile Tamlin played for Feyre before, is generally a musical guy COME ON! /conspiracy detour over

5. ''It's Tamlin's fault that Nesta and Elaine got turned to fae'' No. No it's not. He knew nothing about this. Ianthe did this on her own accord because Feyre told her where her sister's lived. Tamlin actually attacks (!) the King of Hybern over it (to no avail, but still).

Some people blame Tamlin for keeping Ianthe around afterwards, despite of what she did. Those people I want to refer to point number 3 in this list. Ianthe was working with Hybern. Tamlin tried to be buddies with Hybern for reasons. No, he can't just throw out Ianthe.

#thanks for coming to my tedtalk #tamlin #acotar #idk man i get that people hate him but literally everything he does gets interpreted in the most unfavorable way ever #or simply misquoted #and it's annoying ok #feel free to add to it or correct me #SORRY THIS GOT LONG I WENT OFF A LITTLE #pro tamlin #i guess

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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a feeling so peculiar * fem!driver

the new season is finally starting and it doesn't start out as great as she'd expected

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: whatever is on the masterlist for the 2025 season is all i'm going to write for the 2025 season (i think) and it's all angst so sry in advance

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

for starters, she’s never been shy of being on the receiving end of bad news. or devastating news, or ones that feel earth-shattering.

she knows that because growing up in a male-dominated scene has prepared her for that. people used to tell her to give it up because she wouldn’t get anywhere with it, or not to get her hopes up expecting something from a place where she’s clearly not wanted.

but she’s made it this far to formula 1. with her best friends.

her first year in the sport, she climbed to a mere 6th place and ended 4th in her sophomore year. just months ago when the 2024 season had wrapped up, she was on top of the world. a woman in the top 5 of the driver’s championship — it’s definitely something.

to her, she expected that the only way was up.

she could not have been more wrong about that.

the lights have just gone out, the cars on the grid have just skidded off for the evening and she’s… in the garage? in liam’s garage, to be exact.

noise-cancelling headphones on her ears as she stares dreamily into the screen of data of liam’s car. realistically, she should be helping out because she’s always been big on numbers, but not today. something didn’t feel right.

she’d been so excited all winter break to get back into the car, hopping from all the adrenaline and glory she put in her pocket from the year before. only for her car to have an irreversible problem that would force her out of the race before it even began.

she didn’t even have a chance to participate in the first race of the season. no way to shut down all of the unwanted background noise of the critics of her involvement still in the sport.

“hey.” she feels a bump against her hip, flinching at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. “brought you ice cream.”

her eyes flutter close and a sigh of relief passes her lips. she smiles and takes a small cup into her hands. “i was wondering where you’d run off to.”

matt grins. “you looked pretty upset so i went ahead and got you some ice cream. does it at least make you feel a little better?”

“yeah, a little,” she says softly, pursing her lips. “thank you.”

but there’s still a yearning in her chest to be the one in the car to race tonight. that’s not fair — how come liam gets to race this weekend and she doesn’t?

she thought about politely asking for his car, but she couldn’t get herself to do that to him. he’s now become one of her best friends after all.

“rocky.”

she tilts her head at the call of her name, turning around to meet a familiar pair of eyes. one that she’s honestly been avoiding all day from the turnout of the weekend.

sebastian had been the one to break the news to her: that she wouldn’t be able to participate in the race due to a fault in the car. she had simply nodded while tears formed in her eyes and turned to walk away from him.

if you were to ask sebastian, the lack of a response from her scared him.

“ice cream?” the girl offers with a small smile, extending her hand towards him.

sebastian glances down at the ice cream before lifting his hand to reveal a cup of himself. “matt got me a cup too,” he admits with a small grin. “i just wanted to check if you’re okay. with the car and the pulling out of the race…”

she smiles politely, lips pressed into a thin line. what exactly is she supposed to say to someone who doesn’t really have anything to do with the development of the car? well, he does have involvement in it — being a retired world champion warrants that kind of valuable input — but she hardly believes it’s his fault.

“it’s okay,” she says softly, feeding herself another spoonful of ice cream. she blinks as her answer registers in her head. she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i mean– i’m okay. it’s just one race.” she glances at matt, standing next to her. “right?”

matt blinks at her. caught off-guard by her sudden want of his opinion; he’s an actor, not a race car driver. he only knows more about one of the two and it’s the answer that his girlfriend wants to hear. so he nods, “right.”

she turns back to sebastian. “a little frustrating,” she shrugs, “but things like this happen. that’s what you always say.”

sebastian smiles. “you learn quick, kid,” he pats her head endearingly. “that’s a good grasp of the concept. you’ll be back on the track next week good as new, i promise.”

she nods, forcing herself to swallow down the words that sebastian spoke to her. but there’s a churning in her stomach that she cannot seem to ignore as she feels her appetite come to a halt suddenly.

she huffs softly as she turns back to the screen. things like this happen, she repeats in her head. surely it can’t get any worse than this.

so it apparently can get worse.

she sits in the car slightly longer than she needs, eyes staring intensely at the steering wheel in her hands.

something’s not right, something’s off. something doesn’t feel okay.

she wants to blame something — rather someone — that isn’t the car. perhaps, she’s suddenly become the problem without her knowledge? it feels like something has shifted in the air recently because nothing seems to go her way anymore.

“is everything okay?”

she flinches at the sudden voice that fills her ears, reminded that she’s still sitting in her car in parc ferme. “yes,” she answers softly at first, “yeah. i’m okay. sorry. it was just a long race. i’m quite exhausted.”

“copy. let me know if you need help, okay? or if you need to talk. it was a tough race.”

a finish out of the points feels so foreign to her. to be two races into the new season and not be in the top 10 of the driver’s championship. this time last year, she was at least in the top 8 in the standings by the second race of the season.

not this time.

but a slow start isn’t so unheard of for her. it feels like the only thing she can do now is hope that everything gets better eventually. it can’t stay like this all year, right?

when she does arrive at her garage, though, it seems that sebastian is not the only one concerned about her first finish out of the points in almost a year. a crowd has formed in her garage, her friends all staring at her cautiously as they await to see the big reaction that they’ve been expecting from her.

“what?” she asks softly, putting her helmet down on one of the vacant tables. “why are you all staring at me like that?”

the silence doesn’t stop. eyes dart all over the garage, some avoiding her gaze and some staring right at her every couple of seconds.

logan is the first to step forward; the boost from mick prompting an annoyed click of his tongue as he throws his arms into the air. “you uh,” logan blinks at her, “didn’t finish in the points today. how are you feeling?”

she blinks back at him. “i’m,” she trails off and catches oscar’s stare, to which he immediately looks away, “okay?” she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you guys okay? you’re acting kind of… weird.”

her friends’ consideration for her feelings during this trying time is valid. once upon a time, she couldn’t handle the outcome of her not finishing in the points. she just had — has — so much to prove.

but it’s just one time out of her many races.

liam smiles. “we’re just concerned.”

“well your concern is concerning,” she laughs sheepishly, now tearing the velcro from her neck and unzipping her race suit. “i’m 22 — i can handle my emotions when i finish outside of the points. also, not my first time.”

a lie. she actually wants to start throwing things around. perhaps the steering wheel since it’s the only part of the car that she could actually detach and yank around, unlike others.

but it’s just one race.

“yeah, but we’re just saying,” mick speaks with a smile, “if you need to scream and cry and vent because you were out of the points — you can talk to us.”

“i won’t even take it personally if it was because of the team orders,” liam adds with a grin. “you know what? i’ll even scream with you.”

there’s only one person she wants to scream with right now, and it’s the only person that isn’t directly involved in whatever the hell this is.

“as will i,” logan presses his lips together, “i feel like i need to scream into the void until my lungs give out actually.”

she runs a hand through her hair. “i’m okay,” she holds her hands in the air to stop any more chatter from her friends who decided they know her better than herself. “let’s freshen up and regroup at the mclaren camp. ice cream, right? maybe dinner? oscar made podium — we need to celebrate!”

oscar shakes his head, taking a step forward. “we really don’t have to. it’s okay, it’s not even a big deal.”

“no,” she says firmly, head snapping over to the australian. oscar flinches back at the way she’d turn to him with his hand pressed against his chest. it’s silly that after all these years, he still tries to minimise achievements when she’s not had the share of the glory. “i’ll see you guys in a bit. 40 minutes?” she looks around. “where’s matt?”

“in my garage getting ice cream,” mick smiles. “40 minutes, right?”

“yes,” she mutters, quickly dismissing them as she heads for the exit to the paddocks. “i’ll see you then.”

the air feels thick when she steps into the paddocks. the whispers are louder than they used to be and the stares are boring holes into her again.

a heavy sigh passes her lips as she picks up her feet into a run, heading straight for her racing home. she just needs to be alone; be by herself.

because surely, it can’t get worse than this.

right?

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#oscar piastri x reader #mick schumacher x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #logan sargeant x reader #liam lawson x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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adventuringblind · 3 months

Text

Unfair Of You to Leave Me Behind

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Oscar's world comes crashing down on him in Vegas.

Warnings: Graphic injury descriptions, lashing out in anger, car crash, Lando's 2023 Vegas crash, grief, panic attacks, blood, pregnancy mentions, miscarriage, death

Notes: I'm back to make you cry again. Me and the requester who shall not be named were cackling while coming up with this idea.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She kisses Oscar when they first wake up. The only way he ever wants to wake up is with her in his arms. Despite the fact that it's the afternoon Vegas sun shining through the window, he could care less.

She's racing today in place of Carlos, and he couldn't be prouder of her. He's devastated that Carlos got injured from that stupid grate, but his girl is driving a Ferrari. He's pretty sure the Spainard will understand.

Oscar laughs softly to himself, recalling the memory or how their 'rivalry' started.

~~~~~

"Carlos! Wait up!"

The Spainard slows his pace and waits for Oscar to catch up. "Hey man, it's not your fault, I didn't give you anywhere to go."

"I'm sorry too, didn't mean to be so... I don't know..."

"Seriously, mate, we all make mistakes on track." Carlos claps him on the back and gives him a reassuring smile. "Was that all? I, unfortunately, have to go he eaten by the media sharks."

Oscar laughs at the comparison. "Actually, I had an idea."

"Oh? Do tell?"

"I thought it might be fun to cause some chaos."

The two males find themselves huddled over Carlos' phone, crafting a petty tweet that will definitely get people's attention.

Thus was the start of their 'rivalry'.

She'd laughed so hard with Lando when they found out. The utter ridiculousness of Oscar being any kind of petty had them in tears.

"Oscar, if you weren't dating my sister for so long, I might believe you."

"Might?! I'm petty when I want to be!" He huffs and crosses his arms.

"Petty? My love, you are the king of unbothered. This thing with Carlos is cute, though!" He pouts in disappointment but quickly forgets about it when her lips meet his. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

~~~~~

Oscar spends his morning (afternoon) complaining about the diet Kim has him on. It's completely unfair. They both sneak a cookie anyway. Giggling as they get away with their crime.

He walks her to the Ferrari garage and drops her off with Charles. He doesn't want to let go; the goodbye kiss is longer than neccecary, and Charles makes a fake gagging sound.

"Shut up, Charlie. Like you don't make out with Max." She waves off Charles indecent noises.

"I'd rather not watch baby Norris get it on. Not when I have to face Lando sooner or later."

Oscar shrugs. "What a way to celebrate his birthday, no?"

"We'd be having a funeral for him if that ever happens." Charles watches them with fondness, leaving each other's embrace for the last time.

Lando teases up until they are forced to separate and head to the grid. A plethora of jokes about Oscar with his sister in Vegas are had. To the point where Oscar manages approximately one indecent joke and Lando shuts up.

"That's my sister, mate."

"And she's my wife, your point?"

~~~~~

Oscar stands nervously at the edge of the water. Daniel and Max keep reassuring him it'll be fine. However, he wouldn't put it past those two to push each other into the water while officiating.

Logan stands beside him. He smiles happily and nods to where she is walking down the beach.

Oscar may be unfazed by most things, but he is only so strong. She looks ethereal walking down the Australian beach in white, flowers decorating her hair.

Lando is the one walking her down the aisle on her request. Both her sisters trail behind her.

It's just their immediate family and a few close friends. It's intimate and small, just the way they wanted it.

Daniel does end up pushing Max into the water. Oscar is to wrapped up in his new bride to notice, let alone care.

His entire world came together that day. Oscar could lose everything but still have her and live the rest of his life a perfectly content man.

~~~~~

The faster her drives, the sooner he can get of this car and go check on Lando. The crash looked awful; like the car just slipped out from underneath him. It's making him more nervous than he would like.

His lover can't be fairing much better, that's her brother. The last thing she needs right now is to be distracted. Which he most definitely is not.

Oscar drives because he can't wait to see her after, to tell her how proud he is. Maybe he'll worship her tonight if she'll let him. If she isn't too exhausted-

The world moves in slow motion. She was ahead of him after his last pit stop. She was running in sixth, he's seventh but they both are lapping cars at this point.

The red Ferrari and the blue of the Williams collide. Oscar is barely able to dodge the debrief flying everywhere.

For a brief second, her car is over his. He wants to reach out to her; grab her and tell her it'll be okay.

Then she's gone.

Oscar hears his engineer talking to him, but he only has one thing on his mind. He stops the car, pulls of the belts off and bolts in her direction. Except it's worse than he imagined. The sight we he turns around is brutal.

The Ferrari is in pieces. The entire front is wrapped around the pieces of wire barrier it took out. The fence is decimated and the car itself is smoking.

Oscar puts himself to work. He can see her, clearly unresponsive. The marshals are talking to him. It's fuzzy, but he knows they are helping.

He tries to pull her out and has to choke back his tears while doing so. Metal rebar from the car sticks into her through her abdomen. Her head lolls to the side like it's been snapped.

Oscar pulls her helmet off instead. He makes eye contact, and shatter. She's trying to talk to him, but it's incomprehensible.

His body is half in the cockpit with her as they cut the car away. He's not being useful now, but they have to understand. This is his entire world bleeding out for everyone to see.

He cups her face tentatively, as gently as he can manage. "Please love, stay with me - please - you did so well, come on love - open your pretty eyes for me." He chokes on broken sobs. He rips his gloves off, longing for the feel of skin of skin. Forehead pressed against hers, he will her to stay awake.

The marshals try to pull her away, but he knows as soon as they do, she's going to start bleeding worse. He screams at them defensively, not sure why, he just needs everyone to leave them alone.

Logan is the one to pull him off with the help of a few others. Oscar whips around out of Logan's grip. "This is your fault!" He regrets the words when they leave his mouth. Logan looks sick, pale and clammy.

~~~~~

Logan sits next to Oscar after filming another video for Prema. He's never been the biggest fan of media, but Logan makes it more fun.

"You gonna ask her out today? Like I suggested a month ago?" Logan wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

Oscar shrugs. He'd been working up the nerve to ask her, but knowing who she's related to scares him a tad. She's out of his league by miles. "Not sure yet."

"Well, she's coming over here right now."

Oscar looks her way and has to fight the urge to cringe when they make eye contact. She is beaming at him. "Hello Oscar and Logan!"

"Hey! You got any plans for tonight?" Oscar reels when Logan sounds like he's going to ask instead. He'll say something like 'You snooze you lose, Piastri' after this encounter is over.

"Not that I know of."

"Great, Oscar doesn't either, He'll meet you tonight at six!"

"Will he be the one talking?"

Logan looks at Oscar and sighs when there is no response. "Hopefully."

"Okay then, I'll see you tonight, Oscar."

He does spin himself after she leaves and shoves Logan's shoulder. He mumbles some kind of thanks before crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

"Bet you she's the one."

And at the time, Oscar had laughed like it was a joke.

~~~~~

He only stops his seething at the distressed American when somebody pulls him away. He wants to push them off and run. He'll sprint to the hospital if he has too-

"Oscar, we're gonna get you there, okay?" Max and Daniel are escorting him off the track. They make no mention of the fact Oscar is converd in her blood.

Andrea tells him he can leave. Kim throws extra clothes at him and his phone. He can't look at it right now. The thought of dealing with any kind of media has him gagging as Max peels out of the parking lot.

He blocks out the drive. He tunes out the voices of Max and Daniel, trying to calm him. He'll be calm when he gets to her. Not a second before.

Oscar fights his way to her room. Determined to see physical evidence that she's okay.

Only, she's not moving.

The door to her room is wide open. Lando is sat curled next to Jon with his own medical equipment attached. His teammate is sobbing into his trainers chest, clutching his sisters limp hand.

Oscar takes tedious steps in. She looks so peaceful, entirely undisturbed. His knuckles run across the cold flesh of her cheek.

A doctor comes in, but he doesn't pay any attention. Not until the confirmation finds its way to his ears.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Both of your losses."

Oscar turns his attention to the doctor. "What do you mean both?" He snaps.

The kind looking woman looks disheartened. It makes Oscar's chest crack further. "She was pregnant. I'm so sorry."

~~~~~

"Osc, seriously, I'm not too worried about it." She wraps her arms around him from behind.

Oscar spins her around so he can see her eyes and peck her lips. "You could be pregnant."

"Or - hear me out - I could be stressed." She cups his face and stares at him with adoration. "I want to have a baby with you - I just - I don't want to get my hopes up, you know?"

"Whatever happens, we're in it together. Baby or stress, we'll figure it out."

She pulls him back to bed despite it almost being the afternoon. "If it's a girl, we should name her after one of our mums."

"And a boy?"

"Jack, after his daddy, the greatest man I've ever met."

~~~~~

Oscar collapses.

He shatters.

He screams until his lungs give out.

He holds her one last time.

He whispers his praise.

Then he watches her leave, taking everything with her.

His world is gone.

The funeral comes around far too fast. The last name on the grave includes his, the hyphenated one. It was her idea to conjoin the two. He wanted to match.

Charles had been around to tell him what actually happened. Both him and Carlos are devestated. The Spainard believes it should've been him.

The sketchy patch jobs over the grates had been quick. Carlos had been the first victim. Oscar's wife had been the second.

The grate hit the underside of the car and knocked it off the racing line. Right after she passed Logan. The American just happened to be close enough that it looked like they collided. He'd just been an innocent bystander in a brutal accident.

The FIA and Ferrari are pinning it on her. The statements made, despite the footage and data, are claiming it a driver error. It makes Oscar sick.

Oscar refuses to go anywhere near a track until the FIA own up to their actions. So does Lando, Max, Charles, Daniel, and Carlos.

They get everyone to take a stand. Soon enough, there are no drivers to put on a show.

The FIA has nothing. They took everything away from Oscar, so he did it right back.

~~~~~

A year goes by too quickly. He feels like it was yesterday that she was kissing him goodluck. Now she's a Ferrari reserve, getting ready to test the car.

He's fretting over her like a mother hen, but he can't help it! He might actually cry prideful tears over how proud he is of her.

He always kisses her in case it's the last time.

~~~~~

Oscar kneels over her grave. Logan sits beside him, arranging flowers in the shape of a heart.

The Aussie had cried his apologies to his best friend as soon as he found out what happened.

He's been winning races left and right for a few years now. Lando and him have dominated. He's not got a title yet, but Lando does. Her brother has dedicated it to her. They are both winning for her. He wishes she was here to see it.

"You were right Lo, she was the one."

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majorbaby · 3 months

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it takes a conscious effort to break your patterns of consumption and unlearn the notion beauty, interiority, diverse ways of existence aren't exclusive to whiteness or maleness. part of that isn't your fault. certain music is played on the radio, certain shows survive cancellation no matter what, certain people seem to be able to commit the worst possible acts against other human beings and are excused on account of their creative genius. others are selectively punished, with good reason sure, but still, selectively.

now more than ever it's easier to immerse yourself in art made by people outside of the mainstream. reading lists, free resources, playlists... all this stuff is more accessible than ever, but you've got to make an effort to give it a try. it's black history month, the recs are pouring in, go have a look. or take a chance on something absolutely no one has recommended anywhere and if you find something you like, rec it to someone else because the likelihood is they haven't heard of it.

tracy chapman's "fast car" is one of eleven songs that appears on her self-titled debut album. can you name the second hit single from it? if you're american and you fell anywhere left of center as of the 2016 election, it should be on the tip of your tongue if you were engaged in your country's politics at the time, regardless of your level of actual investment in the system. if not, the next time you're doing a task you need both hands with, washing the dishes, having dinner, doing your makeup, put that album on.

there's a post with over 100K notes on here that i see all the time of bruce springsteen and clarence clemons kissing. there's a part of that that is immediately meaningful to many if you're lgbtq, and a part that is harder for non-black lgbtq people to feel the weight of. but it is worth trying to do and was part of the reason why they kissed so often in the first place. clarence clemons was from norfolk, virginia. he released multiple albums outside of his work with the e street band. they may not be for you, but give them a try.

give enough music, or movies, or books that aren't a part of the approved canon a try, and there's no way you won't find something you don't feel as passionate about as you do about springsteen, siken, the beatles, what have you.

james baldwin was a prolific artist. see if you can't find something of his you like more than giovanni's room.

immerse yourself in ringo sheena, who mitski cites as one of her influences.

if you have difficulty paying attention to music you don't recognize, (i get it) make a playlist that alternates tracks you know and love with brand new tracks. start small. 5 faves of all time, 5 you're going to try out. you won't like everything, but you might find yourself looking forward to 6 songs instead of 5 eventually.

for movies, pick an actor whose performance you loved in something and explore their work. last year i picked whoopi goldberg, also a prolific artist, with a vast body of work that's pretty accessible as a result of her constant, intentional effort.

if you're an artist yourself, you can only stand to improve by getting to know your fellow artists better. so expand your notion of what art is. you can do it for free in lots of cases, and you're spending that time listening to music or reading or watching movies or series anyway, what have you got to lose?

anti-racism sometimes means engaging in real-world narratives of pain endured by brown and black people. that pain permeates much of our art, but we're just as three-dimensional as everybody else, and every aspect of our experiences come through in our work. you know that already, because what else is happening when you indulge in various genres. for everything you love or enjoy, there's a brown or black person who's doing something along those lines, in many cases, those genres wouldn't exist in their current form without the influence of our communities, some more than others, depending on where you're from. you can actually keep one foot inside your comfort zone and dip your toe into something else. that choice is both a joy and a luxury.

#im saying this with generosity #the best time to start was ten years ago the next best time is today #hope i don't regret this. lol.

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skxllz · 5 months

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Jealous Ian and Mickey??

say no more

“ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲? ”

warnings; mickey being mickey. physical violence (typical shameless shit). ian with rings + getting arrested hehe. blood mention. I think that's it??

date posted; 12.9.23

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usually, ian wasn't the type to get jealous. he had his moments in the past with mick’, with that fucker that had talked shit on ‘im at the bar. and maybe that angie girl... but that was a while ago. maybe even with svetlana, but of course that couldn't be helped. and maybe that one time when they first met you...

okay, maybe ian did get jealous. but that was besides the fact. he's never felt uncontrollable rage before when it's come to anyone other than mickey. the time mickey and svetlana married? he wasn't just heartbroken; he felt the need to actually kill terry and tell svetlana to fuck off in front of everyone, even though technically the circumstances weren't her fault. with you, he's never felt that — not since you started dating him and mickey.

it's funny really, for both of them. it was the moment ian realized he actually was in love with you — same for mickey. only, mick’ didn't realize until after the fact.

it started off with an actual date night between you three. ian told you that him and mickey planned one a while ago but it never sought through because some bitch named sammy got him arrested. you didn't know who the sammy chick was, and ian didn't explain who she was, but you mentally vowed that night to stick it to her. that's why you took them both out a week later, to some fancy restaurant on the west side.

mickey complained about a few things on the way there; the fact that he had to wear a tux, the way it fit him, and that the west side was the last damn place he wanted to be. he claimed it was where the ‘ rich bitches with those stupid nose bandaids ’ live and he wanted no part of that parade. you reassured him though that those noses of theirs would end up bleeding if they gave him the slightest problem.

to say the least, you gave him a boner and a good convincing.

after you arrived at the destination, you had watched while entering the restaurant as the two males gawked at the scenery of the place. it made ian question you just how you were going to afford everything —in which you laughed and just replied with “ don't worry, i’ ”— and mickey mutter under his breath just how much the golden posts by the doorway would go for on ebay. you swatted him on the shoulder since you heard ‘im.

you guys’ little trio was escorted generously to a nice window booth at the back of the restaurant, giving a nice view of the back patio where a fountain and little glowy fairy lights were displayed; giving off a familiar, comfortable feel. and, although you felt as ease, you could mickey still did not by the way he was tugging at different ends of his suit and scooting around in his seat.

“ mick- y’okay? ” ian asked, giving a puzzled questionable expression. the red head had been reading over the drinks menu when he noticed his boyfriend acting out of place.

“ this place gives me the fucking quivers... ” mickey muttered, once again shifting. “ I feel like ‘m bein’ stared at. ”

ian snorted at that. usually mickey didn't let shit get to him - especially people, at that. if there a problem, he'd sort it out himself, so why was he acting off now. “ why's that bothering you? ”

you were now looking at mickey as well, expecting him to answer as you raised your brows curiously. you too wanted to know why he was acting differently.

“ because, ” he sighed in frustration, only then leaning across to table to harshly whisper to Ian, while sparing you a slight glance. “ because I rather not fuckin’ ruin this night for y/n, okay? jesus christ. ”

ian's lips formed an o shape in realization. you were more sensitive than they were, so he could understand why mickey felt that way — didn't want to embarrass you or anything. if that happened, who knows how long of a grudge you'd hold.

mickey sat himself back just as a waiter approached. he was tucking in his finely pressed, button down shirt into his apron, not necessarily paying attention to his surroundings as he dropped a pen from his pocket. y/n realized — and, the good samaritan he was, he scooted out from the booth to crouch down and pick it up.

“ uh- here, ” he stood, pushing his hand out towards the waiter. “ you dropped this. ”

“ oh, ” the waiter extended a hand to take his writing tool back. and, as he did so, lifted his head, “ thank you- y/n? ”

“ blake? ” y/n asked, surprise on his face. “ holy shit. ”

that right there is when the first wave of jealousy struck in the night. the look of realization on both of their faces made Ian and mickey exchange glances — and, although ian felt a twist in his stomach, he wasn't exactly indifferent about the reunion just yet. mickey was, though. he looked sour.

and he was right to. throughout the remainder of the hours there, their waiter, blake, would always give you a smile that was always more than just a smile. he'd stop by more often than meant to, as well. asking for refills when it wasn't necessary, stopping by seconds later thinking he forgot a plate when in reality there was none to take. it pissed your boyfriends off - mickey especially.

the brunette had to withhold standing up and violating the guy where he stands. in mickey's mind, he wishes, wishes, that his stare alone could make this blake motherfucker burst into flames. it'd make his year. probably ian's too, because mick’ knew for a fact that his ginger companion was ready to blow the minute blake stopped by to give you the check.

ian's fingers were death-gripping his fork and his jaw was set. eyes pointed towards the table... and you were oblivious to it - cause you were too busy smiling at him.

“ say- ” blake spoke as he handed off the little black booklet to you, “ since it's been awhile, I was just wondering, would you like to hang out sometime? ”

mickey's head snapped up then. “ the fuck? ” he finally broke for the night. he's had enough. “ no- no, he won't like to fucking hang out sometime, ” mickey mocked, looking absolutely fed up. “ are you fucking nuts? you got some cotton in your damn brain- low iq? ”

the look on blake's face was priceless. his eyes were wide, jaw was dropped open. the hand that had stretched out to take the check back, paused midair. even you were looking at mickey like he was bat shit insane.

which, he probably was. but honestly, what do you expect with dating a milkovich?

“ you need to fucking scram before I pop your head off’a your body like a fucking cork. ” mick’ spat finally - and that was the straw that left the drink empty. you heard enough, scooting closer to mickey to calm him down.

“ mick- ”

“ who the hell are you talking to? ” blake's response made you whip your head around in his direction, eyes as wide as golf balls. was this kid crazy?

mickey looked at ian, who was already looking at him, ready to murder someone, before steering his eyes back onto the blonde male. “ I think I'm fuckin’ talkin’ to you- now y/n, sweetheart, move so I can kill this fucking rat. ”

by now, everyone around was staring. low, hushed voices whispering to one another, other waiters and waitresses watching the scene go down with saucer-bound eyes. a few folks had their phones out, recording, while others were on the phone with police.

“ I'm not moving. ” you sternly spoke, looking mickey in the eye so he knew you meant business. “ you promised you wouldn't make a scene tonight yet here you are, doing exactly that. ”

arms dramatically launched out of gesture to the blonde waiter, “ he was clearly hitting on you! ” mickey emphasized, making sure to get in through your head that you were being blind. you were. “ he wants in your fucking pants! ”

“ he does not want in my pants! ”

“ yes he fucking does! ”

“ stop swearing at me! ”

“ oh fuck off, get a grip! ”

you both were too busy arguing to notice that ian had gotten up from the table and approached blake. it wasn't until you heard gasps around you and a loud “ fuck! ” come from said blonde, followed by a thud, did you and mickey raise your heads.

ian was shaking off his hand with a blank mask of anger while blake lied on the floor, clutching his nose. blood gushed out through the cracks of his fingers, the red liquid flowing down and hitting the dark flooring of the restaurant.

people around looked frightened; staring at ian in horror, as if he was a monster. it was dramatic really.

a few of blake's coworkers rushed to his aid while ian walked back over to you both. his fist was raw and red, and his knuckles were slightly split open, but it wasn't too bad besides that.

“ holy shit... ” mickey breathed out, eyeing blake's bloody face from over your shoulder as he was stood to his feet. he was wobbly, wincing, trying not to shout as someone bumped him. it looked as if ian broke his nose. “ holy shit. ”

“ ian! ” you hissed, “ what the fuck! ”

ian shrugged, “ he got what was coming to him. he shouldn't hit on what isn't his. ”

you blinked lazily. shoulders slumping, breathing coming out in realization. “ but... I'm yours? ”

mickey scoffed and slipped his arm around your shoulders. “ are you insane? of course your ours, y/n. I wouldn't bite someone's fucking dick off for you if you weren't. ”

ian nodded towards mickey, “ what he said. I wouldn't just punch anyone. the dick deserved it. ”

you were silent for a moment, processing the emotions you felt. even though the gossip around you was annoying, you weren't necessarily mad at your boyfriends. moreso, you were just annoyed because the rest of the date was ruined. sure, you had dinner, but you wanted to do much more.

of course though, you couldn't, because the cops ran through the entrance seconds later.

“ he's over there! ” you saw the hostess point towards your red haired companion. ian swore under his breath, only to turn on his heel and book it in the opposite direction.

“ run, i’! ” you scream, looking worried.

“ fucking run like hell, ian! ” mickey looked worried too, surprisingly. I mean, it was his boyfriend, but usually he wouldn't let his emotions get the best of him cause of his pride. but here we are.

the night ended off with ian getting put into cuffs and walked out to the cop car. You and mickey both promised to bail him out somehow, and that you'd explain everything to his siblings.

“ oh- hey, y/n? ” ian called, just as the officer was shoving him into the vehicle.

“ yeah? ” you call back.

“ I love you! ”

your heart damn near skipped a beat. chest fell as you lost breath, a smile of joy spreading across your face. with happiness now in your heart, you lifted your hand, waving him goodbye.

that's when mickey suddenly pulled you by the arm, ripping a gasp from you, and kissed your temple.

“ I love you too, weasel. ”

#ask skullz #ian gallagher x reader #mickey and ian #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey x ian #mickey milkovich x reader #mickey milkovich #shameless us #shameless us x reader #male reader

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throneofsapphics · 6 months

Text

have your little girlfriend, part five

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods only know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now.

Word Count: ~6.5k

Warnings: darkish aelin/rowan, possessiveness, toxic relationships, minors injuries/mentions of blood, smut, thigh riding, nsfw, minors dni!

A/N: honestly idk where this is going, i’m just writing on vibes, but reader still has a backbone. this got deleted somehow :(, special thank you to @moonlightttfae

series masterlist

“I’ll be with Fenrys,” she said. It was another iteration of the same conversation they’d had the last three days. Her bringing up visiting home, Aelin and Rowan not disagreeing or agreeing, but questioning the safety of it. Technically, she supposed she didn’t need their permission, but it would be much easier if she could convince them to agree. Would they drag her back to Orynth if she left on her own? She didn’t want to find out. Her eyes shuttered closed. She wouldn’t give up on this, she needed to see her family. Needed to get some space. Fenrys had offered to speak to them, but she wanted to handle this on her own. To fight her own battles.

She had an idea. One she would surely regret. “What if …” she swallowed harshly, “I agreed to train with you,” she directed her gaze towards Rowan first, and then Aelin.

“Without complaining?” Rowan leaned back, crossing his arms.

“I’ve never complained,” he raised one brow at her. Maybe she had, once or twice. “It’s not my fault you’re …” she tried to find a nicer word to say.

“Ah asshole?” Aelin offered. “Dickhead? Bastard?” Rowan cut a glare at her, but she only grinned.

“Harsh,” you settled on.

“I promise I'll be …” Rowan’s the one who couldn’t find a word this time. She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. “Considerate.”

Aelin chuckled. “How kind of you, your Highness.”

She straightened in her chair. “I’ll train with you,” she tapped her fingers on the table. “Three times.”

“Seven,” he countered. She started low on purpose.

“Five.”

“Ten.”

Gods-damned in. Aelin only looked on amusement. Ten times. She had to leave in twenty days. Between work, spending time with them, and her friends, she didn’t quite have time to train everyday. Well, not in the way Rowan likes to train - grueling sessions, at least three hours.

“Seven.” She countered, he looked like he was going to raise it further, but Aelin fixed him with a look.

“Fine,” he grunted.

The weeks leading up to the visit, she spent so much time in her animal form it began to worry Rowan. He remembered the ten years he spent in his … after Lyria’s death. Maybe she was still healing - from everything she’d lost during those ten years. Her parents, several of her family members. He glanced down at the white fox, curled up next to his desk, snoring softly. She looked peaceful, and at ease.

She was leaving in three days and something in his chest clenched at how far away she’d be, at how he wouldn’t be there if anything happened. Or how difficult it would be to get to her. Aelin had threatened Fenrys so thoroughly he didn’t need to do it. As much as the male could annoy him sometimes, he trusted him with his life, and more importantly with hers. If anything happened to her, he’d make him regret being born.

He called her name softly, and her head raised, pretty eyes blinking away the haze of sleep. “Shift back,” to his surprise, she actually listened - and didn’t look too upset at his order.

“You interrupted a perfectly good nap,” her fists rubbed at her eyes, lips turning into something between a frown and a pout.

His mouth turned up at the corners, and he held out a hand. “I missed you.”

Her eyes softened, and she took it, letting him tug her into his lap. She nestled her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, he had one arm wrapped around her, the other still shuffling through reports he had to get through by the end of the night. A few more days, and everything should calm down for the holidays. But by then … she’d be gone.

He opened his mouth to say something, but her breaths had evened out, body relaxing into him, and he was reluctant to interrupt her sleep. Again. Rowan pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

The door swung open, and from the corner of his eye he saw Aelin striding in - looking both irritated and exhausted. She paused, tilting her head to look at the two of them, before a small smile creeped onto her face. Aelin had certainly come a long way, managing to curb most of her jealousy surrounding y/n, at least with him.

“I’m stealing her,” her eyes said. He narrowed his. “You’ve had her for the last few hours.”

“She just shifted back.”

“And?” Aelin shot him an irritating grin, making her way to their side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She perched up on his desk, shoving some of his papers out of the way.

Y/n stirred in his lap, lifted her head up. She beamed as she saw Aelin. Looks like Aelin wouldn’t have to steal her anyway. Aelin leaned forward, balancing precariously, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, before sliding off the table.

She cupped one hand around her cheek, tilting y/n’s head to deepen the kiss, the other female moved, brushing against him. His teeth tug into his bottom lip as he bit back a groan, hardening beneath her. The little devil noticed, because she moved again, more intentionally. His hands gripped her hips, holding her firmly in place, she was straddling his leg now, back arching as Aelin kept pulling her closer. Fuck.

He kissed down the side of her neck, scraping his canines over her pulse point. Rowan kissed over the two small scars on her neck. His mark. Where he’d claimed her. How everyone would know exactly who she belonged to.

Her arousal started dripping on to him, her hips wiggling to try and get some release, some friction. He dug his fingers into her hips in warning, and she stopped. Aelin let out an edged chuckle. She was always amused by how easily y/n listened to him. Well, how she listened when she wanted to.

“Please,” her voice was breathy, and he knew she was asking him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back to meld her body against his. Aelin leaned back against the desk, hands gripping at the wood - lips swollen.

“Let her.” Aelin shot him a look. She was always soft when it came to her.

“Go on,” he told her, and pushed gently between her shoulder blades, landing a gentle swat on her thigh. “If you want it that badly, take it.”

Her head twisted over her shoulder, tilting her head at him.

“Ride his thigh, petal,” Aelin said.

He groaned in mock frustration, before gripping her hips again, helping her to start moving.

“Don’t be mean,” Aelin tutted at him. Rowan ignored her, focusing on y/n, currently growing bolder with her movements, rocking her hips back and forth over them, soft moans and whimpers leaving her throat. Aelin’s fingers white knuckled against the wood, fighting the urge to step in, but flames danced in her eyes, lust glazing over as she watched, scenting the same arousal he did. Three different scents mixing through the room, flooding it. It was strong enough that anyone would know better than to knock. If they wanted their head still attached to their shoulders.

As much as he liked to tease Aelin, he was equally territorial over her. If anyone else even glimpsed her like this, he’d rip their gods-damned eyes out.

“I’m close,” she panted, “please please please,”

“Go on,” Aelin said before he could answer, winking at him. His eyes rolled, but he tightened his grip on her hips, helping her move faster, harsher.

Her thighs clenched around him, body stiffening, and Aelin leaned forward to swallow her moans, letting her ride out her pleasure. As soon as she started to come down, started to relax - muscles loosening, Aelin swiftly gripped under her thighs, pulling her up into her arms. Y/n laughed as her legs wrapped around her waist, arms draping over her shoulders.

“You’re invited,” Aelin said over her shoulder as she headed for their bedroom, a sheet of golden hair swishing behind her. Hair he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers into. The other female buried a laugh, tucking her head into her neck. He scowled. Aelin’s well aware he still has work to finish. A wink, and she disappeared, kicking the door shut behind her.

The next three days passed quickly, and a few tears slipped down her face as she left, but she managed to wipe them away before Aelin or Rowan could see. She would miss them, absolutely, but she was incredibly excited for the trip. For the chance to get to see everyone again - and to visit her home. Well, Orynth was her home, but so was out there. In the mountains, far beyond any of the hustle and bustle of the cities.

Fenrys shifted first, and she followed - taking off at a steady trot. They traveled in peaceful silence, listening to the various bird calls, water from the streams splashing on stone, pattering of paws against snow.

Freedom, that’s what this felt like. Majority of their journey was spent in their animal forms - the easiest way to stave off the cold. They hadn’t brought much food with them, knowing they could hunt for whatever they needed.

They only shifted as they approached the village, a mile or so out. Fenrys had shivered, wrapping his cloak tighter around him. She nudged him in the ribs, “at least act tough, brother.”

He cut a nasty glare at her, but she shot a grin back his way. Y/n thought about making it a surprise, but ended up sending word ahead that she’d be coming with Fenrys. They’d remember him, of course. He’d already made several trips this far north for his duties as Emissary. Although this one was more pleasure than business.

“Nervous?” He asked, glancing at her.

She swallowed and nodded. “It’s been a while.”

Fenrys gave her a side hug, a silent it’ll be fine. She appreciated it. He released his arm as they approached the village, a female sprinting out towards her with a squeal.

Her cousin, Lida. She shoved her pack into Fenrys’s arms, ignoring his oof, and sprinted towards her.

The decorations in Orynth were beautiful. They always were this time of year, but something was missing. Someone was missing. Rowan held her hand, running his thumb over the back of her palm.

“We’ll make sure she’s here next year,” he murmured, voice soft enough only she could hear.

“Every year,” Aelin corrected. “I don’t want her to leave again.”

“Neither do I,” Rowan said hesitantly, “but we need to be careful.”

Maybe it’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong. But, Aelin hoped she was feeling as miserable as she was - was missing her just as much. There’s nothing wrong with wanting her mate close by.

A muscle in her jaw flexed. She was surrounded by all of her court - her family, but without her it didn’t feel complete. Without her and Fenrys. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth, and refocused her attention on Lysandra’s story. Something about the local ghost leopard population.

“Are you ready to be home?” Fenrys asked. They had about three hours left, and decided to travel the rest of the way in Fae form.

“I don’t know,” she gave an honest answer, not looking at him. “It was nice to see everyone, and I missed them, but …”

“You’re not certain how they’ll … be,” he finished for her. Y/n nodded at him, lips pressing into a tight line. Part of her feared Aelin and Rowan wouldn’t let her go again, and she told Fenrys that.

“I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he’d replied. No promises or guarantees, and she appreciated that. The blanket honesty he always came with. He’d fight for her, she knew that, but if Aelin or Rowan put their minds to something - there isn’t much either of them could realistically do about it.

The gates came into view, two figures along with it. Aelin had broken into a sprint. Fenrys quickly tugged the straps of her pack off her shoulders, and she sprinted to meet her halfway.

The impact sent her stumbling back a few feet, but Aelin wrapped her arms around her waist, holding her upright. She breathed in her scent, letting jasmine and lemon verbena overtake her senses. Her mate. The bond between them thrummed with joy, that they were together again - reunited. Like it was mad at her for spending time apart. Another warm body caged her in, somehow managing to twist her around in Aelin’s grip, her face turning to press against a hard chest. He laid a kiss down on the top of her head.

They didn’t need words to explain it. She felt it - their relief that she was back now, and safe in their arms. The pure possession in their touch filled some part of her, the wanting to be desired - to know her mates claimed her as much as she did them. How she proudly wore her mating marks - never making an effort to hide them, never disguising her scent, wrapped up in theirs so thoroughly everyone knew who she belonged to. As much as she was theirs, they were hers.

She didn’t protest as Rowan slung her up over his shoulder, tapping her ass lightly as she laughed. He carted her right off to the bedroom, Aelin hot on their heels, and showed her just how much they missed her.

She was still sleeping when Aelin snuck out, no doubt exhausted from the trip and traveling back. Trudging through the forest and snow for days was enough to exhaust anyone - even in animal form. The first person she sought out was Fenrys - who apparently was expecting her, and asked her what took so long.

“Tell me how it went,” Aelin instructed him. The male let out a slow breath. “All of it.” Aelin added, and his face tightened. Whatever it was, he wasn’t keen on telling her - and a few years ago she may have felt a bit guilty, but when it comes to her mate she wants to know everything.

“They were very welcoming, and thrilled to see her. She … came alive.” Y/n did seem to be glowing. “It took some convincing to get her to stick to our original itinerary.”

Aelin could read through those lines easily, she didn’t want to leave.

“Aelin,” Fenrys cautioned as she felt resentment build up inside of her. “She needed it, she’s already lost so much -”

“She has us,” she interrupted, but he ignored it.

“And her family needed her.” Aelin swallowed harshly. He knew exactly what strings to pull. A duty to her people as well, and if some of them needed her mate’s presence, she couldn’t easily deny it. Her oath to the country wouldn’t allow her. “They’re true northerners,” Fenrys switched subjects, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that hungover before. I’d bet gold her family could drink you or Aedion under the table.”

He went on to describe some kind of homemade liquor or wine they made, strong and dangerous apparently. You couldn’t taste the alcohol in it, but luckily y/n had stopped him after the third glass - telling him her family was getting him that wasted on purpose, to test him out.

“How was your trip?” Rowan asked, sitting down at the breakfast table. He’d been reluctant to let go of her, at all, and currently she was perched in his lap. He needed the closeness, to feel her body against his - to know she was here and present.

“It was good,” she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of them, her neck arching to search his face. He ran his knuckles down the column on her neck, her pulse fluttering beneath them.

“Just good?” He raised her brows at her.

“Wonderful. I missed them. It’s beautiful out there.”

“Can’t be as pretty as Orynth,” Aelin mused, taking a sip of her tea. Y/n gave her a small smile, but didn’t comment. He narrowed his eyes at his wife, tucking y/n’s head back into his chest so she wouldn’t see their silent argument. She could always read the words in their eyes, so he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, sure enough her eyes closed at the touch, a small sigh leaving her lips. He’d taken his sweet time to learn all of her reactions, how every touch affected her.

Are you going to say anything? Aelin teased him. She also knows what he’s doing now. If y/n does, she hadn’t said anything, but he suspects she doesn’t.

I know what you’re trying to do. Turquoise and gold eyes narrowed at him. Aelin wanted her to say she liked Orynth more, or put some kind of primary claim on their city. Wanted some kind of assurance that she wouldn’t up and move back out there. This is still her home.

Aelin didn’t look wholly convinced. His arms tightened around her. She’d tried to leave once, when it was just her and Aelin, and he knew that fear always settled in the back of his wife’s mind. That she’d slip through a crack, through their fingers, and they’d lose her.

I can’t lose her. Aelin said, as if she’d read his thoughts.

We won’t.

She knew they were speaking, having some sort of silent conversation. Rowan doesn’t know she’s aware of his little trick, but she’s more observant than he gives her credit for sometimes. She’ll never tell them she’s aware of it. Because, even if she can’t hear it - knowing when they’re having it, and what circumstance, tells her plenty. It’s obvious they’re speaking about her - they’ve never hidden talking about state matters in front of her.

She let out a yawn, covering her mouth. “It’s good to be home,” she mumbled into his chest. “Can we take a nap?”

“You slept twelve hours,” Aelin chided.

She twisted her head enough to see her. “And I’ve been running for a week.”

Her mate’s mouth curved up at one side. “Fair enough.”

She waited six months before approaching the subject again, and did so casually over dinner. She hadn’t approached Fenrys yet, but figured she could thro the idea out there. “I’m thinking about visiting again, soon.”

As expected, they both went preternaturally still. They were going to have the exact reaction she hoped they wouldn’t, but realistically knew they would.

“Why?” Aelin asked, too casually.

“I miss them.” She frowned. Wouldn’t that be obvious?

“You have us.” She countered. “You just saw them at yulemas.”

“I’d like to see them more, It’s not enough just to -”

“We’ve always been enough. What’s different now?” Aelin hissed at her.

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I need my friends, I need my family, I need you. You can’t expect me to pick and isolate myself from everyone else.” They seemed ready to cut in, but she kept going, “I was embarrassed at how shocked they were to see me,” tears built in her eyes. Her tears were always Aelin’s weakness, and sure enough the female’s face softened - even as Rowan’s remained a solid wall of stone.

“Stop. Crying.” Rowan said through gritted teeth. That only made the tears fall heavier. He didn’t seem to give a damn. “If you’d quit being emotional, we could actually talk about this.”

She shoved her chair back, rising to her feet. They both rose with her, her fists clenched at her side. “There’s nothing wrong with crying or being emotional.”

“It keeps you from thinking clearly,” he countered.

She needed to get out of here. The tension in the room was stifling. Maybe it made her a coward to flee, but she couldn’t, couldn’t handle this right now. She made it one foot from the door, before a shield of flames blocked her exit. White hot anger and rage filled her, how dare she? Slowly, she turned back to face them. Neither of them looked apologetic, or like they thought anything about this was wrong.

“We need to talk about this.” Rowan said mildly.

She didn’t care. Maybe she was overreacting, but at this point common sense left her. “I don’t want to talk,” her voice rose, “I want space.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Aelin matched her pitch, crossing the room to stand before her.

Rowan watched his two mates scream at each other. Normally, he would’ve interfered by now - diffused the situation, but he was pissed. She wanted to leave them, after she’d just gotten back. Six months is a decent amount of time, but every minute away from her hurt. Did the bond not feel as urgent to her as it did to them?

“You leave for weeks at a time, why can’t I?”

“We have duties to our country,” Aelin seethed.

“I have a duty to my family. Are they not as important?”

“You’d choose them over us?” Rowan cut in, moving to stand next to Aelin. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew that - but he didn’t care right now. All of their tempers were too hot.

“I refuse to choose.”

“And if you had to?” He cocked his head. He wouldn’t make her choose, but he wanted to know the answer.

She shook her head rapidly, “don’t make me answer that.”

“It’s a mating bond. You. Can’t. Leave.” Aelin said through gritted teeth.

Her face was flushed, fists still clenched at her side. “I’m not fucking leaving. Get it through your head.”

“Watch your tone,” he snarled.

Aelin surged forward, gripping her chin with one hand, and kissed her. Y/n stiffened beneath her, but her body reacted on instinct, lips moving against Aelin’s. He watched - almost in slow motion, as her mind caught up with what was happening, and she shoved Aelin off.

”You don’t get to kiss me to shut me up.”

He saw red.

Aelin felt Rowan’s anger, and held up a hand before he could do something he might really regret. He paused, he’d been mid stride heading closer to y/n, and took a step back, body tight and stiff.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, half-heartedly.

“You’re not,” she countered coolly. Aelin shrugged, but noticed how she watched Rowan with pure … terror. She’d never looked that afraid of him before.

“Rowan won’t do anything to you.”

Her shoulders relaxed, slightly. Rowan couldn’t hurt her, not really, but she knew if y/n made Aelin upset - hurt her in any way, the blood oath reacted to a potential threat against his Queen. The last thing she needs is for her to be afraid of him, for any more damage to be done. She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now.

She thought about that time, years ago, when she originally tried to leave. She’d needed to figure out how to keep her, and keep her happy in the process. Aelin had an innate fear that she might leave one day and never return. Politics wouldn’t let her storm into the staghorns and take her back. The bond would likely bring her back, eventually, but she didn’t want to take that chance.

“Let’s find a compromise,” she offered.

“Why do I have to compromise when it comes to my family?” She was still spitting mad. Aelin winced at the bitterness in her tone. “Just give me some space, Aelin.”

The wall of flames still blocked the exit.

“So you can run away?” Rowan had crossed his arms, but not moved an inch.

Hurt and betrayal filled her eyes. “You really think I’d leave you?”

“I don’t know,” she gave her an honest answer. She owed it to her not to lie. Owed her that respect, even if it hurt her. She circled around them, giving Rowan an especially wide berth, and headed towards the bedroom. She watched her, not trailing after her. If she wanted space, she could have it in here - or in the castle. The door closed behind her, and she heard the lock snick closed, as if that might actually keep them out.

Early summer, and the sun was still bright - despite the late hour, soothing and warm on her skin as she braced her hands on the balcony railing. Tilting her head up to feel the sun, her mind replayed the encounter. She hated fighting with them, hated it so gods-damned much. And hated that she could see where they were coming from.

Choosing. She knew the answer they wanted to hear, of course, but refused to give it to them. He had no right to ask that of her. It’s like asking them to choose between Terrasen and her, and that’s something she’d never request. Not in an eternity, not for the entire life they’d get to live together. Mainly because she knew the answer. Aelin would never abandon her country and neither would Rowan. But, the difference is she’d never make them choose.

Gods, she’d lost too much already. Her family, the ones left, are something she can’t stand to lose as well. Part of her, a part she needed to shove deep, deep down, was tempted to leave for a while - to prove a point. She pressed her head down against the railing. Prove that she could leave and come back. That she was still capable of having a life outside of them. But who was she proving that to? Herself or them?

Would it serve any purpose? If she really wanted to go, would they let her? If they dragged her back, it would break her but if they let her go, it would too.

Maybe some part of her is broken, for even thinking of testing them like that - of putting them and herself through that kind of pain.

The perfect phase had passed, and everything was shattering around her. The sun was setting before her, she needed to do something. Maybe they’d “let” her go down to her workshop. Or she’d argue with them enough til they either had to let her go or knock her out.

“I’m going down to my shop,” she announced as she strolled back through, sparing a passing glance at them. She seethed internally as Rowan gave her a quick nod. It was probably acknowledgement rather than permission, but everything was out of sorts for her now. Everything was skewed. Her mind shut off as her feet took the usual path, through back halls and servants passageways, avoiding all occupants of the castle.

Slowly, she opened the door. Everything in here was just as she’d left it this afternoon. Down to the tools strewn around the place, as if she knew she’d need to come back later. Aimlessly, she wandered around the space they’d created for her.

Something snapped. Tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to tell how she got to that point, but as soon as she picked up an object - a glass ball, painstakingly painted with small intricate designs - she threw it across the room, watching it shatter on the floor.

It felt good. She picked up another, and another, watching them all smash to the floor - into a thousand tiny shards.

She didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear the low curses, but heard her name. She whirled around, ball still in hand, arm cocked back. Fenrys. He held both hands up, taking slow steps towards her. His eyes scanned the room, picking up on all of the shattered glass behind her. She took a step back, and back, not registering the glass digging into the bottom of her feet, when did she lose her shoes? Her balance faltered, sending her careening forwards, knees digging into the glass. The pain didn’t register.

Fenrys called her name again, eyes pleading. She froze, and recognized the look. Haunted by something in the past, in his past. His boots crunched, glass breaking further beneath him. Y/n let him take the small ball left from her hand, watched as he slowly placed it on the table before coming back, offering a hand out to her.

She took it, rising up to her feet - wincing at the first hint of pain. “Don’t take me to them. Please.”

He only nodded at her, and carefully picked her up - minding the shards of glass still sticking from her skin. She didn’t feel anything as he took a pair of tweezers, plucking the small bits out. Her body healed quickly, not leaving a scratch behind. He found a washcloth somewhere, wiping the blood away - any last reminders of what happened as well. Finally, he took a seat down across from her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. “Do you need to talk about it?”

Her throat bobbed, constricting almost painfully, and she nodded. An arm reached across the table, palm facing the ceiling. She placed her hand in his, letting him squeeze, and everything spilled. With the exception of her thoughts about leaving, because Aelin could easily ask him - and he’d feel obligated to tell. But, she could tell he saw where her mind went.

“I know what they’re doing is wrong,” he started - and she heard the but. “This isn’t an excuse,” he took a deep breath, “Rowan lost Lyria, almost lost Aelin several times, and Aelin almost lost you. That’s what they’re scared of the most.”

He let the words settle in, waiting patiently for her thoughts.

“They really thought I'd leave. Permanently.”

He paused, leaning back in his chair. “You need to make them believe you won’t, that’s the only way they’ll loosen up.”

“What am I supposed to do? Take them home with me?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re always reluctant to meet my friends, or family.”

Fenrys let out a big sigh. “Then pester them until one of them comes with you.”

“It’s a long trip,” she frowned. A long time for one of them to be away from the capitol - and to leave the other completely alone. That would only brew jealousy.

Fenrys leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Whitethorn will visit Allsbrook at some point - likely next time the Bane is nearby there. We’ll time our visit - get him to fly his ass over the mountains, a quick trip.”

“You really think there’ll be a next visit?”

“I do try to go there frequently,” he grinned. Fenrys had gotten along well with her cousin, who had visited Orynth once in the last few months. She refused to ask any questions about it. “We’ll make it before the next snow hits - the trip will be shorter, you’ll end up away for less time.”

She groaned, leaning forward to press her head against the table. “I don’t know if it’ll work,” she mumbled.

“I’ll make it work,” he promised her. “Let me do the talking this time. You and your family are alternating now, correct?”

She’d forgotten about that. They’d talked about alternating who visits where for holidays, and she couldn’t make a promise - but they’d told her they’ll be in Orynth this coming yulemas. “We’re going to try to,” she muttered, still not moving her head.

Fenrys rose, and she finally lifted her head. “I’ll take you back up, then i’m having a little chat with their majesties.”

“Anything I can do to change your mind?”

He gave her a forced grin and shook his head.

Aelin lifted her head as the door opened, revealing both Fenrys and y/n. Immediately, she noticed the small spots of blood - one on the edge of her dress, one on Fenrys’s hand. The male sent her and Rowan a warning glance, shaking his head once. Y/n didn’t look at them as she headed right for the bathroom. Against all of her instincts, she didn’t follow. Not with the look Fenrys was pinning them with. She heard the tap running, starting a bath.

“I need to show you something,” Fenrys muttered, jerking his head towards the door. They were both on edge as they followed him. He led them right down to her workshop, and turned his head slightly. “Don’t lose your shit.” He paused, hand on the doorknob. And blinked. She counted, five times. This is real. Her heart dropped to her stomach. What the hell happened?

Glass. Broken glass covering the entire floor. And blood - y/n’s blood.

“This is what I walked into.” He said quietly. “She’s like a sister to me, and I don’t know what you’re doing to her, but for fucks sake. Fix whatever the hell it is.” He met Rowan’s glare head on, but she could only stare at the room.

Aelin swallowed harshly, and could only stare. Had he picked all of the glass out of her? Waited until she healed? Cleaned the wounds for her - like they were supposed to. Months, she’d spent months making all of those little glass balls, and only one remained. Decorated with the Lord of Terrasen, a flame between his antlers - green forest in the background. Yulemas decorations.

“Why didn’t you bring her to us?” She could sense Rowan’s temper flaring.

“She asked me not to.” He was leaning back against the wall, eyes still fixed on the glass. “But she managed to get out some of her rage. Anyway, I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do-”

“Yes you would,” Rowan interrupted him, and Fenrys snorted - rolling his eyes.

“But maybe consider getting your heads out of your asses. Don’t get me wrong - she’s no angel right now, but try and figure it out.”

Aelin hissed at the small insult against her mate, and he let out an edged chuckle, before sweeping his gaze back over the room. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, and she knew exactly where he was taken back to. Rowan looked between the two of them, and left without another word.

“Are you still banned from cleaning up in here?” Fenrys asked her after a few minutes. She huffed out a laugh, but nodded, and watched as he grabbed a broom - starting to sweep all of the glass into a pile.

“Keep the glass,” she murmured quietly. He tilted his head at her. “She might want to make something else out of it.” He didn’t question her, and she stood as moral support. They talked about everything and nothing - carefully avoiding speaking of y/n. If Fenrys was her confidant, she wouldn’t push him for answers now, even if she desperately wanted to. The back of her head hit the wall as she looked up at the ceiling. If she wanted to know something, she’d ask her directly.

Rowan came in silent, and she tensed - still in the bathtub. He stopped in the doorway. “That was stupid.”

At least he didn’t mince his words.

“It was therapeutic,” she countered. He didn’t reply, but his eyes scanned over her body, and she felt his magic reach out - checking for any kind of lingering injuries.

“You spent months on those,” he finally said. “Why?”

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek against her knees, arms tugging them close to her body. The water was already cold, and a small shiver went down her spine. “I don’t know. It’s all a blur.”

He saw the goosebumps down her spine, and grabbed a towel before striding over towards her. He stopped a foot away as her body tensed. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.

His rough and calloused palm was warm against her skin, and she let him help her out of the bath. He started running the towel over her body, and she tried to snatch it from him. “I can do that myself.”

He pinned her with a look, and continued, gesturing for her to turn around. She grumbled the entire way, but laughed as he gently swatted her ass. It felt so … normal, and she leant into that feeling, the moment, and didn’t let the events of the last few hours taint it.

By the time Aelin came back, she was already in bed - half asleep, half sprawled on top of Rowan, his hand running soothing strokes up and down her back. Wordlessly, they’d agreed to table it until tomorrow. Until everyone had a clear head.

She blinked her eyes open as the sheets rustled, Aelin slipping in beside her.

Aelin pressed a kiss against her forehead, murmuring “tomorrow,” before moving closer, caging her in between the two of them.

She woke the next morning, wincing at the nausea in her stomach. There was a slight cramp in her legs as well. But .. she’d only had her cycle a week ago, she wasn’t due another one for six months. And, she took her tonics like clockwork. Carefully, she untangled Aelin’s arm from her waist, awkwardly climbing over her, and slid towards the edge of the bed. She’d planned on an early start, to re-stock after her little episode.

Her feet hit the soft carpet, toes wiggling against it. Gods, she hated dragging herself out of bed in the morning, especially if the two of them were still sleeping next to her. Turning her head over her shoulder, she spotted half-lidded and wary green eyes watching her. She fought the urge to roll her own, he was watching at her like she might flee. Not entirely unreasonable, but he didn’t know that.

As she stood, pain shot up her legs, ricocheting as her muscles seized. She let out a small yelp, before crumpling forwards, barely tucking her arms in time to avoid breaking her wrist. Rowan was there in an instant, Aelin a second or two behind him. He fell to his knees before her, carefully propping her up with one arm as his magic ran over her. His nostrils flared slightly. “You’re settling.”

A shield of wind covered the room on instinct.

Rowan saw her eyes widen, tears starting to fill them, the scent of her fear filling the room. Aelin had settled shortly before she met y/n, and it was a difficult process to say the least. It wouldn’t be his first time helping someone through it. He knew how dangerous it was. How vulnerable Fae were during it. She could lose control of her power, or lose her power entirely throughout the process.

Meeting Aelin’s eyes, her expression mirrored his thoughts. If she thought they were overbearing before … he turned back to y/n. “It’ll be fine,” he assured her, stroking one hand through her hair. “You’re not alone.”

Months of her body re-ordering its aging process and magic re-adjusting. If she lost her magic .. although he didn’t think she would, it would wreck some part of her. She relied on it for some of her crafts as well, a large portion of which she’d just destroyed.

She’d already lost it for ten years. To get it back, and have it taken away again … he shoved the thoughts from his mind. If it came to that, they’d handle it. In the meantime - he’d do everything he could to prevent it.

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin #throne of glass x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #aelin x y/n #aelin x reader

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weebsinstash · 3 months

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I didn't notice vals coat was his wings until you mentioned it, but side note, val and vox were literally frenching it in the last episode, vox literally had vals spit all over his mouth wdym they're not dating???

Oh yeah, the wing reveal was an entire thing!

In episode 4, Masquerade, Charlie decides to put her foot down and use her authority as Princess of Hell to try and visit Angel at the studio to talk to Valentino, but, um, she cannot read a room to save her life, massively fucks it up, starts a small fire (not entirely her fault, that surge protector was a mess), and Valentino actually uses his wings and his weird smoke/pheromone powers to put out the flames (so also I've thought of him rescuing Reader from fires now because of course)

I'm not sure how the logic of the coat wrapping around his arms to form sleeves works but it fucks severely. then I also think, what are alternatives for a moth Reader? Someone sent in an ask about Reader being a silk moth so that you have the moth powers but you're ultimately helpless because you either don't have wings or they're too small for you to actually fly and escape ( because domesticated silk moths were bred to not be able to fly) and I think that would be great. Maybe Reader just has a tattoo of moth wings across their back, OR you have just, magical poofing powers where you can retract that shit back in, like Anthony's second pair of arms, and when they're hidden away, you have a tattoo. It leaves potential for hiding who you are from Val. This whole mystery of him chasing down some cute moth he sees in blurry footage from your first night in the afterlife and he doesn't realize the mysterious moth with rumors of a special dust that knocks you on your ass and makes you see stars is right next to him

I just. I keep thinking of butterfly/moth Readers and different powers they can have, like a silk moth Reader who can create silk and lowkey be Spiderman (or... bondage powers? 👀) , or the pheromone powers we mentioned before, or just a Reader who has their own fuck huge wings. Most moth species have female moths be physically larger than the males and I can just see like, a luna moth Reader who's wings are big and elegant and can become an evening gown or whatever, just a moth Reader whose wings become something pretty 😍 (ughhhh callback to my "Reader becomes an incognito Overlord called Big Blue" poeer fantasy except now I'm thinking of a Reader who's tall like Val and you're a blue morpho butterfly.

Reader being in the midst of being Val's weird pet slash forced partner, waking up and Valentino is sleeping beside you and he's just got those big ass wings open and they're draped all over the bed and they're covering you like a blanket while he squeaks in his sleep... you wind up as the filling in a VoxVal sandwich and those big red bitches are huge enough to cover everybody... also... what if Valentino used his wings lowkey like a tripwire so if you try to get up out of bed, you can't move without touching the wings, and he wakes up the instant you leave the bed, I'm talking you're 5 feet away still tippy toeing and you hear "you better get the fuck back here before I have to get you" and you're instantly scrambling back to his bed and now he's wrapping his arms around you so you can't leave again

I feel like Vivienne saying Val and Vox aren't dating is.... I saw someone phrase it as "dating is a really heteronormative concept and you'll have people be in domestic partnerships who aren't married" which is a good point and i also saw someone say "you've got two men throwing nasty hissy fits and probably having the world's best hate sex afterwards, you know Valentino isn't taking this man to dinner"

I feel like staticmoth IS sort of canon but it's not, explicitly like, they would DIE for each other or anything, idk. Maybe Valentino is only truly capable of loving himself and he loves the attention Vox gives him, and Vox is toxic codependent but he truly loves Alastor, who fucking knows, I'm still over here writing them both as my favorite problematic horny queers. Now I can just see Val and Vox fighting for "custody" of their shared darling, arguing who gets them which days, stealing them from each other, sabotaging each other's dates, just being selfish nasty evil obsessive gross dudes 😩❤️

#hh #yandere hazbin hotel #sinprompts

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c1eepypas1a · 22 days

Note

Can you do some dark Dean Winchester smut? With an age gap, daddy kink, and virgin reader?

A/n: I can only try, this is my first smut pls don't make fun, plus I dunno how to do the writing color change thingy, cringe ahh title name.

Parings: dean Winchester x fem! Virgin!sub! Reader (I can do a male version if it's not supposed to be fem)

Warnings: age gap (dean is 29 reader is 18, daddy kink, dean forcing reader to call him daddy/dean calling himself daddy, non-con, pain for the reader, forced oral (m!rec), tit palming/slapping, slight choking, kissing, swearing, obviously Dom!dean and sub!fem! Reader, nipple play (for like a second), crying, blood (slightly yk since she's a virgin)

"Please, don't...daddy."

*gif isn't mine I got it from Pinterest*

*readers pov*

Me and dean have been friends for awhile now, he thinks I'm stupid, that I don't know about all the staring or lingering touches when he's fixing up my wounds, I hate the looks, I remember when it all changed, when he changed

*flashback*

I smile as I walk into my house with jo, I jump as everyone shouts surprise at me,my dad, bobby singer walks up to me "wow kid, the big 18, do you feel older yet." He smiles warmly and I smile "uh, yeah I guess." I giggle, dean makes a backhanded joke about me finally being legal,

Sam rolls his eyes "dude, your almost thirty, stop being so gross, you knew her when she was in pigtails." Dean grumbles and hands me a present, telling me to open it later when nobody's around and his hand lingers on my shoulder,

That night I open the gift dean gave me, a fucking vibrator, in the shape of a rose and a photo of him, gripping his clothed hard cock, I quickly throw it under my bed along with the vibrator and I pretend nothing ever happened.

*end of flashback*

I walk into the motel room, I look at dean who's binging through channels on the tv "where's Sam?." I sit down next to him, "gone to get food." I nod and I continue to watch the tv, dean lands on a horror movie,

My eyes wander to the hand he placed on my thigh, I don't move it nor I say anything and I get back to watching the shit gore on the tv, "you know sweetheart, sammy's gonna be gone for a while." He says in his usual flirty tone, his hand sliding more up, I push his hand back down, "so what if he's going to be gone." I say feigning my clueless tone, bile rises in my throat as I feel his eyes move down from my face to my tits, "means we could find other things to do then this shitty ass movie." He grips my thigh tighter, borderlining on pain "d-dean what the fuc-" I'm cut off by his lips on mine,

I try to push him away and get up but he pins me down and he tsk's "no, your not going anywhere, I've waited to fucking long for you, I'm not letting you go now." He smirks and starts to undo and push down his jeans "as much as I want your cunt, I'm gonna use your mouth first."

He manhandles me so I'm on my knees, tears sting my cheeks and he smiles condescendingly, "oh baby, you started this, this is your fault, parading in your short shorts and your tight shirts, wearing no bra thinking I won't notice." He says, gripping my hair with one hand and palming my tits and thumbing at my nipples with the other, against my mind praying for this to stop, my body reacts, my nipples getting hard and my cunt getting wet, he smirks at me, pushing down his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, the imprint of his dick visible,

He stops palming at my breasts and pulls his boxers down, his hard cock slaps against his stomach, leaking pre-cum at the angry red tip, "open up for daddy." He smirks but I don't, I keep my mouth shut and he gets visibly annoyed, he grips my hair tighter and then his other hand closes my nose, "c'mon baby, you gotta breathe soon." He says in a condescending tone,

I try my hardest but I finally open my mouth to breath, he quickly shoves his cock down my throat, I gag and spit forms around my lips and his length, he lets go of my nose and I try to breathe but its hard, "you know, this all could of been avoided if you didn't play fucking coy with me.", he says as he practically skull fuck's me, gripping my face and hair, thrusting his hips roughly,

After about 5 minutes he finally pulls away, I take a deep breath of air,tears streaming down my face, he roughly pulls me up against him, his cock against my clothed stomach, he pushes me down and sits in between my legs, trying to push my shirt up but I twist and I turn to get away, "c'mon babygirl, the less you resist, the less it'll hurt your little virgin pussy." I whimper at those words,

After what felt like forever of struggling, he finally gets my clothes off of me, leaving me in my panties, "lace...it's like you asked for me to fuck you.", I cry at those words "c'mon baby tell me how much you want this, tell daddy how much you want his big cock to stretch you open." He grins sadistically, I stay silent and dean doesn't like that, I feel his hand strike my left breast, "say it!." He shouts in my face, I whimper and I finally speak with a scared tone, "i-i want d-daddy's big cock to stretch me open." He smirks, "that's a girl.",

"please don't...daddy."

That's all I can say hoping that will please him but before I know it he thrusts into me, pain shoots through my whole body and I start to cry again "awe, baby don't cry, daddy's got you." He says as he fuck's me faster, taking away the one thing I thought I could control, but I can't, I'm helpless as he takes it from me, I feel liquid down at my pussy and I look down, I notice the crimson liquid leak down my cunt,

"I fucking knew you would bleed, don't worry sweetheart, it won't hurt that much anymore.", he says as he fuck's me harder, it hurts, no pleasure from it, I beg for him to stop, I cry to god that it'll be over soon and before I know it, I feel him pull out and his cum spurt on my tits and stomach, I feel dirty as dean kisses me before he flops down beside me and cuddles me, like he didn't just destroy me, exhaustion takes over me, before I slip into sleep I hear dean mutter something and I fall asleep.

*the end*

(a/n: my first smut, I hope it was good, if there is any mistakes or anything you didn't like please tell me, I'm sorry it's so short, I wrote this at 1am.)

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #demon dean smut #deanwinchtser #dark! dean Winchester #smutty fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #dark!smut #non-con

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bjtch-craft · 8 months

Text

"Can I make it up to you, please?"

Peter Parker x Black! Male reader

✩ Summary: Peter gets into an argument with the reader but makes it up to him...

✩ Word count: 2k

✩ Genre: Angst to Smut

✩ Request: Yes or No

✩ Warnings: Smut, crying, over stimulation (if you squint you'll see it), and (LIGHT) choking!!

✩Authors note: Sorry for disappearing for a while. School started again, and I wanna d!e already!!! Anyways this is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's so totally not proofread! So if there's any mistakes, please comment them so I can correct them.

"I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me!"

"Peter, I’m not fucking mad at you!"

Peter takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes with his wrist before placing them on either side of him, softly gripping at the sheets.

"Then why are you yelling at me?"

"I’m not-!" [Name] cuts himself off after hearing his tone. "I’m not yelling at you; I'm just... worried. Okay? Worried that one day you’ll meet your match or run into some crazy obsessed fan." He finishes his sentence with a softer tone.

"Well, you don’t have to be! Okay?"

"I know, but..."

"Is this about MJ?:

[Name’s] worried look is wiped away by Peter’s accusation and a look of shock forms.

"W-what? No!"

"Because it feels like it is! Is that why you meant by an obsessed fan?" Peter says, putting up air quotes while saying "obsessed fan. "

"That’s not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean? Because to me, it seems like you’re upset; I’ve been hanging out with her more often. Jealous even."

"Oh my God, Peter, you’re un-fucking-believable! This isn’t about her or anything else; this is about me! And my concerns! You don’t even know how many times I’ve seen you go up against some big and how terrified I've been! Terrified that you’ll get seriously hurt or worse."

Peter lets out a scoff.

"So you’re just being overprotective now?"

[Name's] jaw dropped at the sentence that left Peter’s lips. He wasn’t sure how to react.

Peter and [Name] never argued, and even if they did, they’d get over it within a minute or two, but for some god-forsaken reason, Peter was being an absolute dick.

The energy in the room increased by ten as both of them (mostly [Name], of course) could feel the anger begin to sink in even deeper.

"Peter. What. The. Fuck! Is wrong with you today? I don’t know why you’re being like this!"

"Like what?"

"Like a dick! I don’t even know why you’re arguing with me; I’m just telling you my fucking concerns, and you have the fucking gall to call me jealous and overprotective."[Name] says, dragging out the word "Gall".

"And I’m just telling you how I feel too!"

[Name] didn’t know how to react; he felt hurt and could feel a sob begin to make its way up his throat. He gulped it down (that didn’t work; he ended up still crying later, but that’s later) he began to pull at the bottom of his shirt while looking at the floor.

"Peter… Can you leave?" [Name] said quietly.

"W-what?"

"I said," Can you leave," please?"

"Okay. Fine."

And with that, Peter stood up and made his way out the door, leaving [Name] standing there in silence, a tear threatening to fall from his eye. It wasn't an empty threat, and the tear fell. And fell. And fell. And fell.

Soon the sun set behind the tall buildings of New York, and the moon rose, casting a small bit of light into [Name's] room. [Name] sunk into his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, a million thoughts rushing through his brain.

Are we over?

Why was he mad at me?

Should I say sorry?

Should he say sorry?

Is it my fault?

No, it's his fault.

For sure.

Tap tap tap. [Name] sat up softly and looked towards his window, expecting to see the source of the sound. But there was nothing…

"Am I hallucinating? Can you even hallucinate sounds?" [Name] thought aloud.

Now, you can actually hallucinate sounds, but this wasn't a hallucination. Tap. Tap. Tap. [Name] got up from his bed, crept towards the window, and slid it open.

"Hello…? Why'd I say hello? That's basically a death wish if this was a horror movie. "

"Hi!"

[Name] jumped back from the window with a yelp. Before creeping back towards it and looking out it once again, but this time staring down to see a familiar blue and red suit.

Peter stood on the building's brick wall, looking up at [name], his arms crossed around.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah…"

[Name] backed up from the wall as Peter climbed inside with a smile on his face.

"Do you have anything I can change into, babe?"

[Name] let out a scoff.

"Babe! Don't babe me, dude. Are you seriously going to pretend that our argument didn't happen?

"Sorry! I thought you'd be a little calmer. But do you?"

[Name] walked to his closet, pulled out a sweater, made his way toward his dresser, grabbed a pair of sweats, and threw them at Peter.

Peter changed and threw the suit in a corner before sitting down on the mattress. And a somewhat awkward energy filled the room.

"I'm sorry… I am. I don't know why I was being such a dick! But I'm sorry for what I said." Peter looked down at the floor, unable to look at his boyfriend.

"Peter…"

[Name] wasn't sure what to say, and in situations like this (awkward, scared, and nervous), he often coiled his already-curled hair around his finger.

"I feel like such a shitty boyfriend."

[Name] placed his hand on Peter's cheek. "You're not a shitty boyfriend, though... You admit when you're wrong and understand why 6 wrong. That's legit one of the many reasons why I love you!"

Peter looked up at [name], nuzzled his face into his palm, and planted a soft kiss on his palm. [Name] ran his thumb over his pale cheek. It was a sweet moment that didn't last very long.

[Name] softly ran his thumb over the corner of Peter's soft lips. Peter adjusted his head and planted a kiss on the darker-skinned boy's thumb. [Name] smiled down at Peter.

"I love you, Peter..."

"I love you too."

[Name] pressed his finger against Peter's lip. He got the hint and opened his mouth, letting his boyfriend's thumb in. He looked up at [name] with innocent eyes as he bobbed his head up and down on his thumb.

"Jesus..." [Name] whispered out.

Peter came off his finger with a pop, his face turning a light pink.

"Can I make it up to you, please?"

[Name] nodded his head softly and backed up as Peter got up off the bed and kneeled in front of him.

"You can say no at any time, and I'll stop," Peter said with a smile.

"Same to you."

Peter reached up and pulled down [Name's] basketball shorts, dropping them to his ankles. Peter reached up and gently groped at the bulge in the other boy's boxers. Peter pulled them down with ease.

Peter stroked it gently, causing a soft whimper to release from [Name's] mouth as Peter's soft hands glided over his cock. Peter grabbed the base of [Name's] cock and gently licked the tip before taking it into his mouth. Peter looked up at [Name] as he slowly took more into his mouth, gagging a bit as he made his way towards the base.

[Name] reached down and placed his hand in Peter's hair, holding his head in place, making Peter gag as drool pooled out of the corner of his lips.

"Fuckkk! Peter, your mouth feels so good."[Name] moaned out.

Peter let out another gagging sound and tapped the side of [Name's] thigh, signaling for him to let go. And [Name] did Peter come off his cock with a pop and look up at him with a smile, a rope of drool connecting [Name's] tip to his lips.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

"Yeah. Fine." Peter said as he began to slowly stroke [Name's] dick.

He placed it back in his mouth and began to go back down on it. He bobbed his head up and down in a repeating motion as he reached into his sweats and pulled out his own cock and began jerking himself off.

Peter came off his dick and kitten, licked the tip, and placed it back into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

"Agh, Jesus Peter" [name] whimpered out.

[Name] placed his hands on either side of his head and slowly began pulling his head further down on his shaft.

"I'm going to go a little rough. Is that okay with you?"

"Mmmm," Peter hummed in response, causing a soft vibration on [Names] dick, making him let out another moan.

[Name] gripped a handful of Peter's hair and began to pull his cock out of his mouth before slamming it back down his throat. Peter, still stroking his own cock, reached out and grabbed at [names] thighs for support.

[Name] strengthened his grip on Peter's head and began slamming his cock down Peter's throat harshly, causing drool to pool out of the corners of his lips.

"Ohhh God! F-fuck!"

Peter whimpered and whined around the length as tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill.

"MM~ MMM~" Peter whined out.

Peter jerked himself off at an even faster rate, chasing his climax. And he chased it, cumming all over his hands and floor.

"Aww, Pete...."

[Name] pulled his dick out of Peter's mouth, leaving him gasping for air.

"F-fuck~" Peter said in between breaths.

"Are you okay, Pete?"

"Mhm."

"You came... kind of fast."

Peter's pale face turned a soft pink as he ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor.

"Do you want to, like, you know, go all the way? You don't have to say yes." [Name] said, reaching down and lifting Peter's chin up to look at him.

"Yes, I want to do it."

[Name] reached down and pulled Peter up by his arm, smashing his lips against his. [Name] kicked off his shorts and boxers and began walking them toward the bed, lightly pushing Peter down. Peter reached out and gripped the collar of [Names] shirt, pulling him down with his lips, never breaking contact.

[Name] broke the kiss, placed a soft kiss on Peter's cheek, and started making his way towards his neck. Kissing down his jawline before softly biting his neck.

"Fuck~" Peter moaned out.

[Name] began sucking on the flesh and biting at it before licking over the bite. The warmth of [Names] tongue made Peter blush even more, making his already pink skin turn a deep scarlet. [Name's] hands traveled down Peter's body, slipping them up his shirt and feeling him up.

[Name] reaches out from under Peter's shirt and takes his cock in his hand, gently tugging at it. Peter let out a soft whimper at the feeling of [name's] warm hand.

"Is this okay?" [Name] says speeding up the pace.

Peter bites down on his bottom lip and nods his head.

With his other hand, [Name] begins to pull Peter's shirt up and begins placing soft kisses on his torso, making his way toward Peter's cock. Peter pulled his shirt off, making [Name] let go of his cock.

[Name] delicately kissed Peter's tip, spat in his hand, and began jerking him off once more. The sound of wet noses and whimpers filled the room.

"Does that feel good, Peter?"

"Mhm-ahh~ Fuck~!" Was all he could whine out as [Name] ran his thumb over his tip in a particularly hard motion.

[Name] let's go of Peter's cock and steadied himself on his knees, grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off.

"Let me know if it hurts or if I'm going to be rough, okay?"

"Okay."

[Name] placed Peter's legs on his shoulders and steadied himself on the mattress before lining himself up with Peter's hole. Peter reached out and felt around on his boyfriend's bedside table until he felt a familiar wrapping.

"Here."

Peter handed him a condom. [Name] opened it and slid it over his dick and pushed into Peter slowly, wanting him to adjust to his size before moving.

Peter gripped the sheets and twisted them in his hands as he let out a soft moan.

"F-fuck~"

[Name] reached out and grabbed Peter by the waist and pulled him down on his cock. [Name] bottoming inside of Peter as he looked down at him to see his arm covering his face, his face somehow even pinker.

"Does this feel okay?"

"Mhm."

"Can you uncover your face? I want to see all the pretty little faces you make, Pete."

Peter's cock twitched at this, and a drip of precum made its way down his cock. Peter did as he was told, took his arm off, and looked up at the curly-haired boy.

"I'm going to start moving, okay? Let me know if it's too much or if you want to stop. I won't be mad, I promise!"

"Okay, I will."

[Name] began to roll his hips in and out of the pale boy, starting off with a slow pace to ensure he didn't hurt him. [Name] decided to test the limits and pulled out of Peter, making him let out a breathy gasp at the loss of friction before slamming back into him and producing another loud moan from him.

His face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain as his hands shot out and grabbed at [Names] shoulders as he rocked his hips into Peter.

"Aghh~ C- Can you go a little harder?'

[Name] listened to his question and sped up the pace, filling the room with the sound of a headboard banging and the sound of skin against skin. [Names] hands roamed down Peter's thighs until they reached his cock, took it in his hand, and began once again jerking him off at an irritatingly slow pace.

[Name] placed his other hand on the back of Peter's head and leaned in their lips inches apart. [Names] thrust slowed for a second before stopping all together.

"Why did you stop?" Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

[Name] closed the gap between them. Peter kissed back almost instantly and placed his hand on the back of [Names] head, tangling his fingers in his curls. [Name] began to thrust into him slowly and more gentle as the kiss deepened.

[Name] grabbed Peter's hands and placed them above his head, holding them in place and breaking the kiss in the process. His thrust quickened, and once again, the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

"Fu-fuck~ ugh!" [Name] moaned out.

His thurst became even harder as he chased his high. Peter could feel tears starting to fall from his eyes, not from pain but from pleasure. It was all too much. His ccok standing up straight twitched and shot ropes of cum all over his abdomen, painting that area of his body glossy white.

"I'm not too far behind," [Name] grunted out.

His thrust became sloppy, losing the rhythm as he tightened his grip on Peter's wrist.

"F-fuuck~"!

He let go of Peter's wrist, pulled out of him, and made his way to the floor. Peter got the idea quickly and knelt before sticking his tongue out as [Name] jerked himself off.

After one or two strokes, he came, shooting his load over Peter's face. Blotches of white landed on his lashes, chin, nose, forehead, tongue, and hair.

Peter swallowed the cum that had landed in his mouth and smiled looking up at [name] innocently.

"Jesus Christ, Peter, you're so pretty."

Authors note part 2!!!:

Okay so y'all I'm thinking of doing an Olivia Rodrigo type of story with Bad Idea, right? Should I do this???

Link to the song in case y'all haven't heard it yet!!!

#lgbtq #gay #peter parker x male reader #spiderman x male reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x male reader #smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x black!reader #Peter parker x Black male reader #idk man #Is this even good #Spotify

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supercap2319 · 1 year

Text

Beauty within the Beast

Tyler Galpin x Male Reader

A/N: I have no idea why I made this.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Y/N?” The sounds of leaves crunching underneath shoes could be heard as Y/N led Tyler deep into the forest behind his house. They were out here to conduct an experiment. Hopefully, if all goes well, they will succeed.

Y/N turned to the other boy, a childish like smile on his face. “Of course it is. My dad let Eddie and me play in these woods all the time. Especially at midnight when the killer spirits come out to play hide and go death.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but trust me. With all the knowledge my grandpa gave me about Hydes, this plan will work.”

Tyler’s ears picked up at the note. “Really? What did he say about them?”

“That apparently Robert Louis Stevenson wasn’t crazy. The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde wasn’t just a short story or a nightmare he experienced. He was real. And apparently Edward Hyde and my grandpa were good friends back in the day,” Y/N said. “He’s your ancestor, though his mutation grew into a more beastly form that he passed down to his descendants. Passed down to you.”

Tyler tried to rack his brain around this new information. So, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were real people and apparently he was a descendant of the original Hyde. “So, I’m a descendant of them? And my mom was too?”

“Yup. But the good thing about my grandpa being friends with benefits with Mr. Hyde.” Y/N smirked at that. “Is that a person can learn to control their Hyde form and even use its strength in their mortal form.”

“So, I can learn to control my beast-like side?” Tyler asked. It seemed too good to be true.

“Yeah, but the only way for you to control it is to own the darkest parts of yourself. Your hidden desires and wants.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Tyler admitted. He’s made so many mistakes that it seemed impossible for him to be brave enough to control this side of himself. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“Tyler… I know you can control this…” Y/N got closer to the other boy and put his face in his hands as he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips as the other boy blushed red. “I believe in you.”

“Why would you help me, Y/N? After all the pain I’ve caused you, I don’t deserve your protection or your help.” He began to cry as he looked so broken and full of remorse. All the terrible things he did. All the people who he hurt and killed. He was a monster and deserved to be put down.

Y/N gently brushed his boyfriend’s tears away as he gave him a small smile. “Tyler, I chose to help you because I love you. Because I know that it wasn’t your fault for what happened. It was Ms. Thornhill’s. If anyone deserves to be punished, it’s her. For using a young man’s trauma and the need to know about his mother against him.”

Tyler hiccuped as he looked at Y/N with sad, wet eyes. “Really?”

“Really. Despite everyone saying not to, I don't care. All I care about is helping you.” He hugged him and that filled Tyler with warmth and hope. Hope that he can do this. “What do we do first?”

Y/N moved away from Tyler and looked into his baby blues. “We give you a moving target.”

“A target?”

“Right. If you can successfully catch the target and manage to control your killer instincts, then it means you’ve gotten control,” Y/N said.

“Who’s the target?” Tyler asked, but he had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

“You’re looking at him.” Y/N pointed to himself. “If you can catch me and manage not to tear me limb from limb, then it’s worked. You’ve owned the darkest parts of yourself.”

“Wait, Y/N, I don’t think this is a good–”

Whatever Tyler was going to say was cut off by a punch to the gut from his boyfriend. Tyler keeled over in pain. He looked up at Y/N in shock. “What are you doing?” Tyler groaned.

“Sorry, Puppy, but I need Mr. Hyde right now. Not Dr. Jekyll.” He punched Tyler in the face, minding his Frankenstein’s strength and not breaking Tyler’s nose or his bones. Tyler groans as he looks at Y/N, as his breathing becomes heavy and rapid and when Y/N sees Tyler’s eyes bulged out, literally, he knows it’s time for him to run. And fast.

He vamp speeds out of there, as he can hear Tyler’s inhuman roar as he begins to transform into his beastly side. His clothes tear off as he grows sharp claws until he stands about 10 feet tall. The Hyde roars and as soon as it catches Y/N’s scent, it begins to give chase.

Y/N speeds through the forest as he tries to put some distance between himself and the Hyde on his tail. It would have been easier to fly away, but unfortunately, he needs to be on the ground for this plan to work. He continues to speed run as he can hear the Hyde’s thunderous steps closing in on him. He stops just short of the gates of the local cemetery as he turns and waits for the inevitable. Not a moment later, the Hyde crashes through the trees and roars loudly, not a moment later he’s down on his back with the Hyde’s monstrous hand pinning him down.

Y/N looks up at the creature’s red, bloodshot eyes instead of Tyler's clear blues. They were wild and unfocused, with the only objective on the Hyde's mind was to capture its prey and mutilate it. Y/N wiggled a bit as the monster tighten its grip on him as it dug its claws into his sides. The young hybrid hissed at the pain of Tyler's claws digging into his skin. He locks eyes with Tyler's other self. “Tyler, if you can hear me, fight. I know you can control this. I love you.”

Meanwhile, in the dark recesses of his mind, Tyler watched the scene play out like a movie. Like he was merely an observer looking out into the film and he had no control over his actions. There was a dark chuckle as Tyler turned to see a doppelgänger of himself, but this version of him had black hair and bloodshot eyes. He smiled at the scene of Y/N pinned helplessly to the ground.

Tyler called him Dark Tyler. A more malevolent version of him that enjoyed the chaos and bloodshed. This was the darkness that Y/N said that he had to own. If he wanted control of himself; he needed to learn to accept his dark side. “Pathetic. He thinks love can save him?” Dark Tyler laughed. “I can’t wait to rip him limb from limb. I bet you he likes to get loud. I betcha he’s a screamer, eh, Ty?” Tyler looks at his evil counterpart, who has a filthy smirk on his face as he raises his right arm and Tyler sees the Hyde do the same thing in reality.

Tyler grabbed his arm before he could put it down. “I’m not going to let you hurt, Y/N,” Tyler protested.

His doppelgänger frowns at him. “And why not? Because he loves us?” Dark Tyler mocks. “You and I both know no one could love a monster like us.”

“Y/N did. He believes in us. Believes in me. And I’m not going to let you kill him.”

“Oh, so little boy, Galpin, has finally grown a pair and decided to man up.” Dark Tyler got close to his good side. “What are you going to do, Tyler? I’m the best version of us. The version that Ms. Thornhill brought out. I’m the stronger one. I’m the smarter one. I’m–”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Tyler jammed his fist into his chest and grabbed his heart. Dark Tyler looks up in shock as there was a fire in his doppelgängers eyes. His blue eyes were cold and fierce. “I’m done letting you take control and ruining my life. From now on, I’m in control!” Tyler rips the heart of Dark Tyler out and drops it to the floor beside his fallen lookalike as a sudden switch goes off inside his head.

Instead of just seeing Y/N. He could feel his body underneath his hand, his claws. He could feel everything in his Hyde form right now. He was no longer a mindless killing machine. He’s finally learned to control it, and somehow Y/N knew it too as he looked into Tyler’s eyes. “Puppy, is that you?”

Tyler felt himself shrink down to his human side as he willed his transformation to end. His claws came out of Y/N’s body as the young man winced as Tyler became human once again. A very much naked human. The Galpin boy looked at Y/N. He quickly got off him and tears formed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Y/N got up and hugged Tyler. “It’s okay, Tyler. It’s alright now. Because you did it. You took control.”

Tyler looks at him. “I did, didn't I? I can’t believe I did it.”

“I can. I told you you were strong enough to do this, and I was right.” Y/N smiled.

Tyler smiled back. “I love you, Y/N Munster.”

“I love you too, Tyler Michael Galpin.”

The two share a passion kiss that was much more heated than the first one as Tyler groans as Y/N pulls away when he feels something hard poke him. He looks down and smirks as he looks at Tyler. “Someone’s excited.” He points to Tyler’s hard on as the other boy blushed.

Y/N giggled. “Tell you what, for being so brave, why don’t you and I go all the way today?”

Tyler looks shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah, my dad says there’s no better or more romantic place to lose your virginity than in a cemetery. Especially if you do it on a gravestone.”

Tyler just chuckles as he kisses his boyfriend once again.

#x male reader #Tyler galpin #Tyler galpin x male reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x reader #hunter doohan x male reader #hunter doohan #wednesday 2022 #mr hyde #y/N Munster #the munsters

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writeyouin · 3 months

Text

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Misery Loves Company

Warnings – None.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @lxkeee @moonieper @sle3pyh3ad2 @gomib0 @mixplara @ica1 @loser-monologue @blackbeautyiloveyouso @equkki @literalzxmbie

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE