#let me know if I need to tag this with any warnings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

5sospenguinqueen · 2 days

Text

Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader

Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2024 but some events switched around

I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.

Main Masterlist

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and others

YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend

6,883 comments

User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed

User2 our favourite elle woods

charles_leclerc ❤️💛

charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo

→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char

→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved

→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you

→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy

User3 i love that max follows charles’ gf but not charles himself

francisca.cgomes get that degree, girl!

lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles

→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together

→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend

→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend!

→ charles_leclerc wait, no

→ User4 the prettiest girlfriend

User5 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple

→ User6 they always look so infatuated with each other

→ User7 umm, how? she's literally never at races

→ User8 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not

→ User9 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo tagged: YourUserName

12,298 comments

User10 omg dad charles!!

User11 charles in his dog dad era

User12 we’ve only had leo for a minute now but if anything happened to him, i would kill everyone here and then myself

YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️

→ User13 mom and dad!!

User14 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-y/l/n. he truly is their child

→ User15 omg they would make the best parents

→ User16 agreed! i can’t wait for them to have a baby. it would be too cute, i fear

roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s

→ User17 roscoe-leo play date when please

→ User18 not until 2025 😂

User19 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum

→ User20 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods

pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one

→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend

User21 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next

→ YourUserName oscar

→ User21 omg i love you!

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad

User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her.

User3 how cute. they’ve just gotten a puppy together, and he’s already thinking about all the future things he wants to do

User4 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is

User5 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?

→ User6 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way

User7 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though

→ User8 it’s the way charles' face changed when the interviewer said that. like he realised what he was saying came across the wrong way

User9 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world

→ User10 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further

User11 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman

→ User12 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on

User13 i’m hoping that she’s just mad at him and eventually they’ll talk this through

→ User14 praying. like it wasn’t a great thing to say but hopefully they argue, say a few harsh words and carry on being the most adorable couple in f1

User15 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one

→ User16 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics

User17 i miss them already

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User1 oh god, it’s official

User2 i am not feeling good

User3 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour

User4 what do you mean mum and dad have broken up

User5 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles

→ User6 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept

User7 omg I just checked and it’s true!!!

User8 i know we didn’t get her in the paddock all the time but i’m going to miss seeing her ferrari themed fits

User9 the nation of monaco is in mourning

User10 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce

liked by OllieBearman

User11 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?

→ User12 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?

User13 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :(

User14 i no longer believe in love

User15 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)

→ User16 may all your delulus come trululu

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others

YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing

3,880 comments

YourBestFriend this barbies practices law

→ YourUserName and she wouldn’t be complete without her historian barbie

→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults

→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol

→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one

lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these!

→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart?

francisca.cgomes good luck, beautiful girl. and if all else fails, at least you can boast that you know latin

→ YourUserName ut dulcis es, kiks.

→ francisca.cgomes see, not a clue what you said. But i miss you trying to teach me. brunch soon?

liked by YourUserName

arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine

→ YourUserName i’m not that bad!

→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls

→ landonorris betrayal!

User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it

YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?

→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n y/l/n

→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line

User4 i’m jealous of how neat those notes are though. i don’t think i’ve ever written that neat

User5 good luck. don’t let charles’ silly comments stop you from achieving your goals

User6 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave

→ User7 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is

→ User8 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams

User9 good luck, y/n. we’re all hoping you do well!

carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼

→ User10 not sainz being messy on main

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week.

8,449 comments

User11 the maximum? babe, you were still on the podium. we’re all proud

User12 eyes on monaco! charles leclerc, prince of ferrari

User13 how does one man look THIS good

User14 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm

→ User15 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl

→ User16 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life

User17 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend

→ User18 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this

→ User17 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it

→ User19 uh, he got a podium. i'd say he drove pretty fast

→ User17 omg guys this wasn’t a criticism on his driving, more of a comparison for how badly he wanted to see y/n

User20 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week

→ User21 also it means that his parents will be conversing

User22 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together

→ User23 a bad argument tore them apart but an adorable puppy will mend everything

→ User24 literally, the more they see each other and the more they talk, the sooner they’ll realise they couldn't be with anyone but each other

Baby Fever Angst

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version

Lance's Version

Oscar's version will come out next and then I promise, I'll release some of the Part 2s before making any more

(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish

1K notes · View notes

tsukii0002 · 2 days

Text

My demons' periods cycles. By Mc

Note: these are purely my headcanons at the moment, they are based on animal ethology and behaviours that I think would suit each character depending on their personality and Lore. I would love to read your headcanon in case you have them.

Warning: Long text. Possible grammatical errors. It's written as if Mc was writing for themself.

Hey, it me Mc, the best human. Here is a compilation of the behaviours of my demons during their periods, cycles, for practical day to day use. It wasn't easy but I sat them down and got to talk to them, with a little effort I now know what they need. So now I am ready to assist them during these complicated times and be prepared in case I find a dead goat on the porch as a tribute.

Lucifer, Mammon & Levi || Satan, Asmo, & Beel || Belphie, Barbatos & Diavolo || Simeon & Raphael

Satan

Light damages his eyes, and during his period he does not sleep at all.

During his cycle, the plaques that extend from his tail to his entire body become more pronounced and acquire a bioluminescent coating. As do its horns. Beware, they prick.

Some parts of his body grow feathers (I think this is a "side" effect of his birth). He aggressively plucks them out, help him not to hurt himself.

His teeth grow continuously, he has to be sanding them (biting things or his own tail). Other than that he doesn't groom much.

Satan doesn't have a fixed place to spend his heat, and although he likes to "nest" he doesn't know how to do it well, which frustrates him a lot. Help him, you already have experience (I think that's why he has chosen my room as his favourite place)

Depending on the weather he may make something more like a nest or a burrow.

Satan is terribly territorial, even with his siblings. He has had a run in with Cerberus from time to time. Please don't let that happen, the house won't hold.

Satan does not have a pre-heat period as such, but you can tell it is coming because he becomes more taciturn and solitary.

Raw meat is his main food, which is what he goes out to hunt very often because he needs a lot of it, but make sure he doesn't eat more than his capacity or it will make him sick. One way to do this is to feed him yourself (I think he thinks you have hunted for him if you do this).

Satan is the only one who haunts other demons and even souls of the condemned.

It is the only one that has fought other demons. Any living thing within 100 metres of him is encroaching on his territory, which is a problem because he moves so much for hunt.

Satan becomes non-verbal. But he does not use noises to communicate, only physical contact.

Growls and roars are reserved for threats and warnings (in other words, to communicate with everyone but you).

He likes physical contact, but is afraid to get close in case he hurts you (his tags and tail), you won't deny him comfort so be careful and that's it.

Satan produces pheromones, but does not usually mark.

His way of courting is to offer you resources, especially prey (he wants to prove he can feed you), it's not the first time he's brought you a live demon. Once he brought you a Little D, the poor thing kept shaking.

Satan's senses are heightened to the extreme. Many stimuli upset him and he has fits of rage. talk to him, so that he focuses his attention on your voice, that will calm him down. Lucifer's voice calms him down a lot too (but it's a secret)

All these changes (hormonal, behavioural…) are not good for his anger, the poor thing gets very angry without knowing why.

Satan's temperature is a reflection of his activity, when he is on the move it increases and when he stops it decreases.

During periods of low activity he curls up next to you, holding your hand (for fear of hurting you) with his pupils fully dilated, don't be fooled, he is fully alert and ready to attack.

Satan purrs? YES! It's the purr that most resembles a cat (that will make him happy, but don't tell him, the avatar of wrath has his pride).

Mc: *in their bedroom helping Satan* Here is ok?

Satan: *looking at them and nodding*

Mc: Making a nest is complicated… are you sure this is okay?

Satan: *standing next to them and rubbing his cheek with their cheek *

Mc: *smiling* Okay, let's go to the next part.

Satan: *grunting at a demon that's approached the house*

Mc: Satan!!! Satan stop!!!

Demon: *paralyzed with fear*

Mc: *hugging* Satan now, let him go, he's going, he's goi- agh!

Satan: !!!

Mc: *cut themself with his tail* It's okay, it's nothing.

Satan: *guilty look*

Mc: *taking him by the hand* Don't worry, this heals fast.

Satan: *nodding still guilty, squeezing their hand*

Demon: …. I thought I was dying!!!!

Satan: *purring as he presses his chin on Mc*

Mc: *talking to him to calm him down* And remember you don't have to go out every day, there's plenty of food here….

Satan: *purring more loudly*

Mc: But if you see my great uncle's soul, the one from the village, it's all yours.

Satan: *nodding with a smile*

Mc: *laughing* How trustworthy, you're awesome Satan.

Asmo

Although he spends most of his time awake, he needs to sleep.

He can be just as active during the day as he is at night (like arachnids).

For him to sleep, you have to be right next to him or he won't sleep.

Asmo needs to nest completely under cover, underground, but prefers the safety of his home to going outside. So he improvises a burrow in his room.

During his period the scales of his exoskeleton become shiny and velvety coated, as do his wings and horns.

Them take on a more striking fuchsia colour than usual. It will be one of the few times you will be able to see Asmo's tail with its sting.

He preens himself a lot, moistening its wings, polishing its scales... At first he is a little reluctant to be helped, but later he will be constantly asking for your help.

More than territorial, Asmo is possessive. He doesn't want you to leave his side, sometimes with his siblings too. If he smells a scent of someone else in his tribe, good luck to that individual.

Asmo doesn't have pre-heat, you'll just wake up one day with all your clothes gone and you'll know it's started.

Asmo's diet during its cycle is varied, although its consumption increases, ranging from fresh meat, fluids of all kinds, to poisonous substances such as flowers, mushrooms or other live animals. Be sure to allow some time to pass before he kisses or bites you.

If you get him a rare poisonous plant, he will be happy and content.

He can talk normally, but he will also make clicking sounds to indicate his mood.

Lots of pheromones, Asmo produces lots and lots of pheromones during his period, pheromones that he will use to mark his territory. Often his siblings can't be near him. You don't have that problem

Asmo is very needy to contact, hug him, give him kisses, caress his wings, his hair. He will be happy to let you.

And he will return the gesture, he will bite you too (always have your first aid kit handy). He will always try to be on top of you or for you to be on top of him.

Asmo's courtship consists of exsivating while performing a dance (like scorpions), this dance is complex and elaborate, and during it he releases a large amount of pheromones.

He gets very confused when you don't react to it, Asmo I'm sorry but I can't smell your pheromones, sometimes he even gets sad.

His senses are very developed, especially his sense of smell, which is more developed than any of his siblings. Make sure the flowers in his room are enchanted so that they don't emit odour and with perfumes and other fragranced products the same or he can get hurt.

Asmo's temperature will generally drop, but he will go through periods of very high fever (due to his sin) which will leave him tired.

During fever peaks he will become very active, and will devote most of his time to courting. To balance this out you will have to COURT him yourself, you'd better improve that dance.

Because of his temperature, he will spend most of his time hiding in the burrow, demanding your cuddles.

He purrs? , yes, in an adorable and soft way. It is easy to make him purr, with a simple praise.

Asmo: Kiss? *with Mc sitting on his lap*

Mc: Not yet Asmo.

Asmo: *with teary eyes* Don't you love me anymore?

Mc: *sighing* Asmo, my life, my heart, you just ate three nightshade roots.

Asmo: *almost crying* And?

Mc: I love you very much but I also want to live.

Asmo: My nose itches.

Mc: Wait a bit longer, I'm finishing enchanting the flowers.

Asmo: *sad * It would be less trouble to remove them…

Mc: But you like them, don't you?

Asmo: Mc..

Mc: *hugging him* I'm here to help you and to make you comfortable, if you like the flowers, the flowers stay.

Asmo: Love you so much!

Asmo: *dancing with a very high fever*

Mc: Asmo, you are so beautiful… you can rest now.

Asmo: *staring at them non-stop*

Mc: *blushing while standing up * You leave me no choice *starts dancing and grabs Asmo by the waist*

Asmo: ?! Are you courting me?! * excited*

Mc: *Grabbing him in their arms to take him to rest* Yup, it worked?.

Asmo: I'm all yours, Mc, from the beginning…

Beel

Light is not a problem for him, although he prefers darkness.

During his period, the exoskeleton hardens and plates of it appear all over his body, and his horns become iridescent.

In addition, its wings become ribbed in a pattern, which at first glance is very beautiful. The more complex the pattern, the more attractive it is. You always see his wings as beautiful, but you agree with him, Beel deserves it.

He does a lot of grooming, which is lovely to see, because Beel is a bit clumsy and needs constant help, he has been injured a few times and you don't want that to happen again.

There are some flies and other insects that lay their nests underground. In Beel's case he has a small gallery dug in the garden, which he uses for storage too.

Beel at the beginning of the cycle may be in the house, but as he progresses he will be in his gallery.

More than territorial, he becomes protective of you and his siblings (he once kidnapped Luke), so when he is in his gallery he feels bad, because his desire to protect them is crushed by his need to be hidden.

Beel has a very marked pre-heat, in which he accumulates large quantities of food in his small cave and his appetite doubles. All the inhabitants of the house join in at this time to cook.

In contrast, during his period of heat his activity is reduced and his appetite decreases, this does not mean that he does not eat, he eats more often but in much smaller quantities and from storage (food that does not spoil).

He will insist on feeding you constantly, prepare indigestion medicine, you will need it.

Beel becomes totally non-verbal, be prepared to become an interpreter, he communicates with grunts, clicks and buzzes his wings.

Lots of buzzing, it's not the first time you've been hit by his wings, with the different buzzes he makes all sorts of claims and they have a high communicative range, you'll just need some time to figure it out.

His pheromones are strong, and he will mark, although he does it unconsciously.

As I said, he likes to have his family around him, but when he can't, anxiety takes over, vibration and physical contact calms him down. The easiest thing to do is to lay him on your chest and talk to him while stroking his hair or wings.

Beel's courtship is complex, first he feels the need to prove he can be a good provider, so he will constantly enlarge and improve his gallery.

And then there is the display of his wings, patterning and rhythmic, synchronised movements and buzzes to impress you.

He sleeps more than usual, will want you to sleep in his arms, and usually does so perched on one of his walls, hopefully you won't develop vertigo….

His senses are not as sharp as those of his siblings, but he becomes much more agile and has much better reflexes.

Beel's temperature increases, due to the continuous movement of his wings (insects produce a lot of heat when flying), but when he is at rest he tends to cool down.

Beel's purr is a mixture of a buzz and a vibration, he will purr when he is calm and content.

Beel was a little worried about how you might react because many humans detest insects. Be sure to praise his wings and other attributes, because this demon is adorable.

Mc: So this is your lair?

Beel: Yes… I decided to keep it from period to period to not destroy the garden…

Mc: I think it's very practical!!! It must be very cool in summer.

Beel: Do you really think so?

Mc: Yes, and cosy too, you're an artist Beel.

Beel: *smiling as he blushes*

Beel: *grunts*

Mc: Beel I can't take anymore…

Beel: *holding out a piece of fruit to them* *buzz*

Mc: Really Beel, I'm going to explode…

Beel: !! *hugging them*

Mc: It's a figure of speech… but can you eat my share… please.

Mc: *sleeping hugging Beel in one of the corners of his gallery*

Beel: *caressing them with his cheek*

Beel: *crackling with worry*

Mc: It's all right Beel?

Mc: Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you.

Beel: …*cradling them adoringly*

Mc: And I'll take care of you, so rest…

If you have made it this far thanks you 🩷

190 notes · View notes

mountainsandmayhem · 2 days

Text

🌊 Beach Babe 🌊

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: There’s no summary, this is just you and Marcus having a hot one night stand on the beach. It’s all corn, no plot

Content Warning: oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, praise kink (duh, have we met?), dirty talk

AN: This is my entry for the beautiful @mermaidgirl30’s Ocean Challenge. She is usually my beta but I wanted to surprise her so this is not beta read or proof read really, but it’s not like the internet is forever or anything haha. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I’m no longer doing a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for updates 🙂

“You can do it, baby. Yeah. Fuck, just relax your throat.” His voice is a heady whisper. You squeeze the meat of his upper thigh like he showed you and he pulls you off of him. Salvia and pre cum falling onto your tits, the triangle cups of your wet swimsuit are tucked underneath them, holding them high for the stranger that just had his dick pressing against the back of your throat.

His thumb reaches down and swipes across your swollen bottom lip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Let me know when you're ready for more.”

You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you’re already nodding your head, you’re not above begging if that’s what he wants. “More. Now. Please, I want more.”

His hands tangle back into your hair, he looks around the sand dunes and tall grasses that keep you somewhat protected to ensure you don’t have any visitors before he thrusts roughly into your mouth. You hold back a gag, closing your eyes and trying to breathe through your nose.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he whines softly when you push your tongue past your bottom lip to swipe your tongue along his balls. He yanks you off him and you gasp out, sucking in the cool salty air of the ocean just behind you.

“Fuck me,” you coo, pulling at the baby pink drawstrings that are holding up your bottoms. They fall to the soft sand with a wet smacking sound. His eyes fall to the apex of your thighs and he licks his lips hungrily.

“Get on all fours, now.” You smile at the rough commanding tone, spin your ass towards him and get on your hands and knees. He lets out a groan as you arch your back enticingly.

When Pike was assigned a new trainee in California he wasn’t overly thrilled about it. He had finally settled in DC after what he’d been through the last time he was in this state. However, ego aside, he was the best in the country at this job, and the training would only take a few weeks. The guy he was training had an impressive resume, he was probably more educated on art than Pike himself. He didn’t want to think about that now though, he’ll meet him tomorrow. Right now he wants to focus on this insatiable ball of need that was pushing her pert little ass out at him. He’s not sure what came over him when he saw you sitting in the sand, but he knew he would be fucking you before he left, and with the beach pretty much deserted as the sun started to set he made his move.

“I’m Elle,” you had said as you shook his hand, biting your bottom lip.

It wasn’t long after he said his name was Marcus that the two of you were ducking between the dunes and grass and he had his swollen cock rammed down your throat.

He lowers himself to the sand, tracing a thick finger through your folds, spreading your wetness. He swirls your clit and you cry out in pleasure, “Gotta be quiet for me, sweet girl.”

You nod and hum in agreement as he slips two fingers deep inside you. To stay quiet you focus on your breathing. Short, laboured breaths in and out, in and out. He twists his wrist to be palm down, watching the way your tiny pink entrance sucks at his fingers, the way your juices squeeze out, and then he curls his fingers forward and every nerve in your body tingles. Marcus has never had an issue finding that spot before.

You gasp, the salty air burning your lungs as you try to keep your noises to nothing but hushed whimpers. “Good girl. Stay quiet. That’s it.”

He picks up the pace, pushing and pushing on that spongy spot inside you before bringing his free hand around, his middle finger easily finding your swollen clit. Your arms buckle at the pleasure of it all, landing on your elbows, opening yourself up to him more. You bite the skin of your forearm as the pleasure starts to reach its peak.

“Come on, you can do it. I can feel how close you are. Squeezing my fingers so tight. Let go, baby, let go.”

Just as you start to come he pulls his fingers out and slams his rock hard cock inside of you. The welcome stretch has you coming harder than you ever have before, back arched like you’re in some sort of tantric yoga pose. His cock is so buried so deep that you can feel it pressing into your cervix. He doesn’t stop the tight circles of your clit as you clench around him tightly, body twitching and legs shaking at the feel of him.

You thought you were just going to have a relaxing evening on the beach, a nice way to celebrate the promotion you recently received at work. Truthfully, what better way to celebrate than being fucked into oblivion by a handsome stranger.

As your orgasm begins to morph into overstimulation you release you teeth from your forearm, deep red and purple marks left behind. You voice comes out breathy and you almost don’t recognize it as your own, “Fuck me now. Just fuck me. Please.”

“Not gonna last long,” he says as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts hard back into you.

“I don’t care, just fucking give it to me, Marcus.” His hands grip your hips tightly as he repeats the same motion. Pulling out torturously slow, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of his heavy cock, before he slams back in.

“Ready?” He hums, his hips pressed firmly to your ass.

“Yesss,” you whisper.

He starts to really fuck you. Its fast and hard and with every thrust you can feel his dick swelling bigger. He bruises the walls of your slick pussy with the pace he’s setting, all while whispering praises about how good you are and how well you're taking him. “Should see how much this little pussy loves being stretched. She’s crying for me, baby.”

“Cum all over my back. I wanna feel it.” You moan.

“Fuckfuck - oh god, such a good girl for me.” He pulls out roughly, strings of your arousal and his pre cum keeping you connected temporarily before he grips his cock and pumps into his fist.

You look over your shoulder to watch him. He looks wrecked, his outgrown hair all messy, eyebrows fused together as he looks at your ass with glazed over eyes. With a shuddering breath he comes, coating your ass and back in warm white ropes of cum. He sits back on his heels and admires his painting. Smirking to himself he says, “Look like a work of art, baby.”

After a few calming breaths he grabs your swimsuit bottoms and wipes off his cum. “Stay here,” he says, slipping his red swimsuit back on and after a careful look around he jogs over the sand dune. You stay there, almost fully naked with your ass in the air waiting for him.

Marcus rinses the cum off your bottoms in the ocean and then jogs back to you. He helps you up and watches you put your swimsuit back on. As you grab your cover up from your bag he says, “Well, that was fun. Unexpected, but fun.”

“I agree,” you say, feeling your cheeks warm.

“I’m - umm, well I’m just visiting for a few weeks but if you wanted to see each other -“

You cut him off, “You don’t have to do that. It’s really ok if this was just a one time thing.”

He nods.

You grab your stuff and after you two smile at each other sweetly you turn to start to walk back to your condo.

“Elle,” he calls after you. You stop and turn to face him. “What if I don’t want this to be a one time thing?”

You laugh and shake your head. You call back, “Then you better be at the beach tomorrow around eight.”

When you wake in the morning you can still feel the dull ache of Marcus all over your body. The back of your throat, in between your thighs, the bite mark on your arm and the small bruises on your hips. He’s still everywhere and you relish in it.

You start your new job today, so after finding a long sleeve blouse to cover your teeth marks, and doing your best to look both professional and serious you head to your new office building.

You trace your fingers over the nameplate on your door. They’ve used your full name and you’ll have to ask them to update that to Elle, people always assume things when they see your full name.

You put your bag down and log into your computer just as you hear a soothing, deep and friendly voice travel down the hallway.

“Good morning. I’m looking for Elliot Hall. I’m supposed to be training him for the next few weeks.” Your spine stiffens. You know that voice.

No way. There’s no way.

The receptionist giggles, “Elliot is a female. Her office is second door on the right. She just got in.”

His shoes click on the hardwood of the hallway, each step closer has your heart racing. There’s a quiet knock on your open door and when you look up you lock eyes with Marcus.

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #Marcus pike fan fic #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro stories #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal smut

122 notes · View notes

djarins-cyare · 3 days

Text

Never Look Down

Part 1: Din’s Evening

Series Masterlist

Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+) with a smidge of explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 5,330

Tags/warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, vomit (no description), numerous references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, non-explicit smutty thots, Din carries OFC a short distance, masturbation (male, semi-explicit, but I don’t think enough to push up the rating), 3rd person POV (part 2 will be 2nd person POV and OFC will become reader/you).

Author’s note: This was originally supposed to be for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event, although drabble this is not! Kel said there was no word limit, but it grew so long that I couldn’t even call it a one-shot anymore, so I’m uploading it in two parts to make it easier to read and I think that probably disqualifies it from the Drabble Event. But Kel, thank you so much anyway for the prompt – it resulted in me finally pushing through my writer’s block and finishing/uploading something new, so I’m eternally grateful!

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

He’s panicking. It’s stupid, really – he’s been in situations far trickier and more critical than this. But Karga said he needed help urgently, and now his babysitter isn’t answering her comlink.

Should he just go and leave Grogu here? It’s not like he never left him alone on the ship.

Except… something’s changed since the adoption. Din has started to care what others think of his parenting style. He hears people whisper that fatherhood clearly isn’t coming easily to him (he thought he was doing alright). He watches how his babysitter closely monitors every move the kid makes (the Mandalorians never watched him that closely). He listens when people talk about how they raise their own children (he hadn’t realised it was such hard work). And it’s made him feel as if he’s… lacking.

He hates feeling less than adequate in any area of his life, but somehow, failing as a father cuts deep. Perhaps it’s because he grew up without one. Plus, that scolding Peli gave him after she found Grogu alone on the Razor Crest still haunts him.

Although the Mandalorian method of letting them learn from their mistakes has merit (and it never did him any harm), he wants to be there for his son. So, no. He won’t leave Grogu here alone. He can’t risk him waking up and wondering why nobody comes if he calls. The kid has probably had enough of that in his past.

Why isn’t Maia picking up?

Din paces the cabin’s length, listening to the gentle ping of the comlink as it tries to connect with the one he gave her. Even the soothing pulse doesn’t ease his frustration. Diligent parenting is hard.

Just as he’s wondering if he can wake the kid and bring him along, the comlink crackles to life.

“—know what the stinking stang is wrong with it! Ah, frotz! Hello? Is this thing totally borked?”

For a baffling moment, he can’t work out whether he’s shocked or thrilled. She certainly doesn’t use that type of language around the kid, but he’s delighted to hear her voice nonetheless.

“Maia!” He interrupts her frustrated confusion as loud as he dares, lest he wake the sleeping child downstairs.

“Shiny, hi! It works! What’s up, my metal man? It’s late… is this a booty call?”

Once again, Din can’t decide if he’s shocked or thrilled. However, his dick’s instant twitch of interest proves that it, at least, is clearly siding with the latter. Dank farrik, he wishes it were a booty call. “No, Maia, I need—”

“Course it’s not!” she interrupts, giggling inanely. “Sorry, that was ridiculous, ignore me. Go on, you were saying?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to push past the stab of dismay at her labelling the idea of a booty call as ridiculous. At least she sounds in a happy mood.

“I’m sorry to contact you so late, but Karga has some kind of crisis. IG-11 is still with the Anzellans for repairs after the last crisis, so he’s asked for my help. Grogu’s asleep, but I’m gonna need you to come over and wait at the cabin until I return. I’ll pay you double your usual rate. I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“Suuure! I’ll haul my jets over to you now. Five, ten minutes, tops. If you wanna take off now, I know your door code. I’ll check on the li’l bug as soon as I arrive.”

Din breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank you, I owe you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Happy hunting, Beskar Boy! Or happy dispute settling!” Maia signs off with a melodic laugh that instantly makes him grin beneath his helmet, despite the stupid nickname.

The grin fades as he processes the meaning of the words preceding her addictive laughter, and he sighs. She’s probably right, although he hopes he’ll at least need his blaster for whatever mess the High Magistrate wants him to clean up.

Karga was once able to intimidate the townsfolk, but these days, they see him as purely a leader and captain of industry. They respect his ability to govern and improve the town – he’s more than proven himself capable in those roles. But whipping out a blaster from beneath those ridiculous robes now gains him little more than dubious raised eyebrows. By contrast, Cara was a fearsome and capable law enforcer, and now IG-11 keeps the citizens in line.

Except a reptavian tore off both of IG’s legs a few nights ago. Apparently, whatever the droid equivalent of ‘sick leave’ is, he’s taking it.

Din doesn’t mind helping out when he’s not on jobs for Carson. As long as Karga doesn’t solicit his help too often, it’s an easy way to make a few extra credits. He supposes that kind of makes him a part-time deputy, though he’ll never accept a title or a contract. But if tonight’s job is nothing more than a neighbour dispute, he’ll be a little peeved. His friend is aware of his skillset and wouldn’t contact him unless it required weapons and armour. He hopes.

He checks on Grogu once more, then equips himself with his usual arsenal, making sure to lock the weapons cabinet behind him. For some reason, his blasters fascinate Maia. He’s given her several shooting lessons, and she always asks to hold them whenever the cabinet’s unlocked. Although he doubts she’d handle them without his permission, he’d rather be present if she’s caressing his things.

Truthfully, he’d prefer it if she handled and caressed something else entirely, though he buries that thought for now. He has work to do, and an ill-timed hard-on would be awkward at best, if not downright perverse. He can torture himself later.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Din wraps up the problem in less than an hour. It does require his blaster, in fact, and he does have to shoot someone. Okay, it’s in the shoulder to disarm him, but the guy is only on his drunken vendetta because he’s heartbroken. He doesn’t deserve to die.

A year ago, he would’ve just shot him in the head and gone home. But he’s lived among the citizens of Nevarro for several months now, and he’s almost starting to feel like part of the community. Passing through it to visit the old covert was different. The Mandalorians were a separate (secret) colony, and he was merely a visitor who lived on his ship. Even though his new home is still on the outskirts, Grogu attends the school in town, and he already knows many of the other parents by name. These days, the market stall owners try to chat with him instead of looking away in fear as they used to.

The guy standing on a table in the cantina tonight with a blaster trained on his ex and her new flame is someone Din recognises. He can’t recall from where, but disarming rather than killing him feels like the right thing to do.

Once he has him in binders, he delivers him to Karga and hurries straight home. The lava flats are quiet and peaceful this time of night, free from the nocturnal bustle of the town and lit only by the celestial display above. There’s no sulphur fog tonight, and the air smells fresh.

But as pleasant as it is, he doesn’t dawdle. Just like every other time he’s left Maia in charge, he relishes the chance to walk into his home and see her there. As if she belongs. He finds that image far more dazzling than the constellations sparkling above him. It’s far sweeter than the fresh air he inhales through his helmet filters as he hastens toward his cabin.

He can’t pinpoint when his interest in her changed from professional to passionate. Grogu made it clear that he liked her best out of the several childminders they auditioned, so he gave her the job. At some point between then and now, he became enamoured with her.

But he can’t do anything about it.

His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so for now, Maia belongs to the kid, and Din sleeps alone.

Even though he’s had no serious relationships in the past, he imagines he’d be willing to try it with her. But since it’ll never happen, it’s not worth dwelling on. He’s noticed a few locals checking him out, so he can always approach them if he’s looking to get laid. He’s much more used to casual encounters.

But none of that stops Din from thinking his babysitter is beautiful. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could run his hands over her welcoming body, indulge in her tender touch and heady scent, sink into her depths over and over until she’s crying out his name as they shatter together in ecstasy….

Dank farrik, he’d better quit thinking like that. He has enough trouble controlling his physical urges around her as it is. In fact, it’s starting to become a problem. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to dash off and furtively rearrange himself so his stomach padding hides his boner. He can’t wear the flight suits with the tight pants around her anymore, so the looser-fitting ones are getting much more use. In fact, he’s wearing his last pair. (That reminds him: he needs to do laundry tomorrow.)

Maia teases him whenever she can, but it’s always friendly, not flirty, and it doesn’t come close to being sexual. He’s never caught her looking anywhere other than directly at his visor. Still, he can’t help feeling embarrassed whenever something she says or does causes his cock to harden. He simply can’t control it.

Din reaches the cabin and punches in the door code, happy to note that his guest has locked it from inside. Her diligence and attention to detail certainly helped him trust her in his home from the outset of her employment.

Stepping across the threshold, he notices all the lights are out except for the one above the kitchen sink, which is unusual. Stranger still, all it illuminates is a near-full cup of water standing in a pool of condensation.

Nonetheless, it’s bright enough for him to survey the rest of the room cast in shadowed shades of grey.

He can’t see Maia.

Instantly, his heart rate rises, although he doesn’t panic. She’s probably just in the refresher or the kid’s bedroom with him. But the amount of moisture surrounding that cup shows it’s been sitting there almost as long as he was gone, which is curious. And there’s no light coming from downstairs either.

The cabin is small, with an open-plan kitchen and living space, and a staircase leading down to two bedrooms and the refresher. Din’s priority is his son, so he creeps down the ferrocrete steps, well-practised at following the route silently. With his night vision on, he can see that Grogu’s door is open a crack, and he pushes it wider. Little purring snores verify that the kid is sleeping soundly, and he slides the door fully closed to ensure he stays that way. Good.

Since his babysitter wasn’t in that room, and she wouldn’t invade his private space without permission, there’s only one other option. He bypasses his own bedroom opposite Grogu’s and heads to the door facing him – the refresher. He can’t pick up any sounds from within, but he’s not about to invade her privacy by listening too intently. The door is fully shut, but there’s a faint glow through the ventilation grill at the bottom, too weak to be the usual lights. A glowrod?

That’s rather odd. He’s grateful that Maia avoided putting on the hall lights while Grogu’s door was ajar, but she could’ve switched on the refresher lights once inside.

For an unsettling moment, Din isn’t sure how to proceed. He really doesn’t want to interrupt her if she’s busy. But… his instincts are telling him something is off, and he wants to know she’s okay.

He’ll give her a little longer. He’d rather be cautious than a perv.

He retreats upstairs again, conducting a thorough check of the living space and kitchen but finding nothing abnormal or suspicious. Nothing besides that abandoned cup of water, at least. Next comes his nightly check of the cabin’s weak points – the windows and entryway. He secures them all, figuring he can escort Maia out when she’s ready. Tipping away the water, he runs a fresh cup, turns his back to the stairs to lift his helmet and drink, and refills it. Finally, he disarms himself of most of his weapons, leaving one blaster in its holster and his vibroblade in his boot. He likes to bring some of his usual arsenal downstairs with him, even though he has multiple spares in a secure cabinet near his bed.

Which is where he’s headed now. Din sets the drink on his nightstand, switches off his night vision, and switches on the dim bedside light. His guest has seen him armourless a few times before, so he begins removing his beskar and the rest of his kit. He’s almost finished – just his armourweave stomach padding to go – when he hears a thump from the refresher.

In seconds, he’s outside it again, listening intently for any further clues. He’s been in the business of handling unconscious bodies for decades, and that sounded like an unconscious body.

“Maia?” he tries, keeping his voice low to ensure he won’t disturb the kid.

Nothing.

He knocks gently, giving it a few moments.

Still nothing.

Okay, now he’s really��starting to worry. He returns to his bedroom, grabs his vambrace, and flicks through his visual settings until he’s replaced his night vision with the thermal overlay. He hopes he isn’t crossing a line here, but what else can he do? Walking to his doorway, he takes a deep breath… and directs his visor at the refresher.

Dank farrik, she’s on the fucking floor. Why didn’t he check sooner?

Jabbing off the thermal overlay, Din throws his vambrace on the bed, then rushes to the refresher door. He keeps his voice low in case he wakes Grogu, hoping it reaches her anyway. “Maia, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

He gives her five torturous seconds to respond or get decent if she isn’t already, and then he keys in the override code. The door slides open, revealing his unconscious (but blessedly fully clothed) babysitter slumped near the toilet, lit by a glowrod on the floor next to her. He can now hear her breathing heavily, though it doesn’t sound laboured, just a deep state of sleep.

His helmet isn’t sealed, so straight away, he’s able to detect the lingering smell of vomit. A somewhat grim consequence of being both a bounty hunter and a father means Din can also distinguish types of vomit. Although she has flushed, there’s no air filtration with the lights off, and the residual odour tells him that Maia has been drinking alcohol.

It also explains her unconscious state, so his worry dissipates a little, and mild annoyance starts to creep in.

She agreed to look after his son when she’d been drinking?

He kneels down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Maia. Wake up.” He shakes her, but she doesn’t stir.

He assumes she slipped from a propped-up position against the toilet, and the thud he heard was her slumping onto the ferrocrete floor. Did she bang her head? If that didn’t wake her… shit.

He tries shaking her again with as much force as he dares, and she groans and curls up even more. She’s fighting it, but he sees consciousness sluggishly returning.

“Maia, it’s Din. Can you sit up?”

“… y’can’t make me sing for the cup….” She’s still half asleep and confused, but that’s not surprising. A few seconds later, she cracks open her eyes, becomes aware of her situation, and slams them shut again. “Oh… fuuuck… no no, m’sorry… so so so s-sorry… please don’t be mad at meee….” She’s tearful and rambling but mostly coherent, even though she’s still curled on the floor with her eyes squeezed closed.

“What happened?” He can’t think of anything else to say until he’s established her culpability. He knows she wouldn’t drink on the job, so she must’ve been drinking earlier this evening. It certainly explains her overzealous response on the comlink. Dank farrik, he should’ve realised. But, no, he was busy revelling in his own drunken high from her joke about it being a booty call. Idiot.

“It was accidet— ac-ci-den-tal,” she continues from her foetal position. “Tried to call you back, but m’comlink’s busted… figured better I’m here drunk than not at all… ’m sorry sorry sorry, kark, pleeease don’t hate me. I jus’ wanted to make sure the li’l man was okay. I didn’t realise how much I’d had till I stood up, n’ it hit me worse on the way over. But Grogu’s fine, I checked. But I’ve grossed up your ’fresher, ’m sorry…”

Din sighs. In the scheme of things, Maia did the right thing. He’d rather she was here puking in his refresher than risk his child waking up alone. And it occurs to him that she achieved a surprising amount while seemingly drunk as a pirate. She secured the cabin, poured herself some water, stomached a few sips, managed to descend the stairs unscathed, and checked on the kid. Then she sealed herself inside the refresher and threw up neatly into the toilet bowl with no spills, even managing to flush before she passed out. And she did all that by the light of a glowrod so she wouldn’t wake Grogu.

In many ways, his babysitter’s actions tonight were more responsible than some of his own questionable choices regarding his son’s safety. He can’t be mad at her.

He tells her so. “I’m not mad, Maia. Thank you for coming over anyway. Can you sit up? I need to know you’re okay.”

Her eyes are still clamped shut, but she cracks them slightly as she tries to push herself off the floor. It doesn’t go well, so Din reaches forward to help, and together, they get her into a stable sitting position. Nevarro’s volcanic environment means the basement maintains a cosy warmth, so he’s not surprised she passed out down here. It’s not exactly soft, but those who grow up in the Outer Rim spend their lives making do. He likes that she’s a survivor. Like him.

“Everything’s s-spinning,” she groans. “N’ my mouth tastes like bantha balls.”

Din suppresses a snort. “Hold on.” He climbs to his feet, retrieves the cup of water from his bedroom, and then passes it to her. “Here, sip.”

After she’s taken a few delicate sips, Maia gives him back the cup. “Don’t wanna puke again.”

“You won’t,” he assures, placing it in her hands again. “Pretty sure you got all the alcohol out of your system already. You gotta rehydrate, or you’ll feel worse.”

Kneeling down next to her again, he watches her try to follow his instruction, pleased she trusts him. He can’t help but admire how adorably dishevelled she is. Her hair is mussed, her clothes are wrinkled, and she keeps pouting between sips… but it’s all so… cute.

Once she’s had half the cup, he accepts it back, though she follows it up with more apologies. “M’so sorry… , m’such a karkin’ idiot… I get it if you don’t want me to look after Grogu anym—”

“Stop,” Din interrupts sharply, unwilling to let her beat herself up. “This is as much on me as it is on you. I didn’t ask you if you were busy. I demanded you come over and bribed you with extra credits. I didn’t question why you sounded different on the comlink. And I didn’t wait for you to arrive. If I’d done any of those things differently, you might not have ended up on my ’fresher floor. So I’m sorry too.” Maia doesn’t reply besides blinking at him a few times, so he asks, “What was the occasion? For the drinking, I mean.”

“One year of freedom from a terrible relationship,” she states resolutely, and for a moment, she seems a little more sober. “Me n’ Zandi, we were both in deep with some mudscuffers who locked us in when we were too young to know any better. But we got lucky. Marshal Dune caught them dealing spice, and now they’re spending a decade mining the asteroid field at the edge of the system. The Nevarran tribunal sentenced them a year ago today, so we drank to celebrate our freedom.”

Din doesn’t really know how to respond. She’s made some previous passing remarks about the toxic relationships she and her friend escaped from, which he’s always taken as hints of her wish to remain unattached. It’s yet another reason he wouldn’t feel right about making any sort of move on her. He settles on, “You… deserve to celebrate.”

“Thanks, Shiny.” He bristles at the nickname out of habit, but he secretly likes that Maia has numerous nicknames for him. “N’ you deserve a ’fresher without a woman on the floor. I should get outta your way, Beskar Boy.”

She tries pushing herself up but instantly becomes dizzy and topples to the side. Din’s naturally quick reflexes kick in, and he positions himself to catch her, letting her fall into his chest as his arm snakes around her back. Before he can even process what he’s doing, he’s slipping his other arm beneath her knees and lifting her up.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, grabbing onto his flight suit with one hand while the other flies to grasp his neck. He almost shivers from feeling her clutch at him so keenly. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love it! Thanks for the lift, muscles!”

He’s glad his bold move has amused rather than perturbed her, so he doesn’t answer, too busy willing his cock to remain unreactive to this sudden closeness. His main goal is to get her off the ferrocrete floor and put her down somewhere softer as fast as possible. As he elbows open the door and navigates out of the refresher, he makes a split-second decision. His bed is closer than the couch.

“Shiny! This is your bedroom!” Maia whisper-shouts as he steps through the door. At least she’s lucid enough to keep her voice low in case Grogu hears across the hall.

Din grunts in agreement as he approaches his bed and starts carefully lowering her onto it.

She keeps going in a gleeful whisper. “Is this…? Are we…? Kriff, I never thought I’d actually end up in your bed, metal man! I mean, it’s been a dream, sure, but I figured your creed thing meant, like, no sex or whatever. But holy frotz, I guess tonight really was a booty call! Count me the fuck in!”

He’s already laid her down by the time he fully processes her words.

Dank farrik, he’s a fucking idiot.

He will never have sex with any woman in this state. He’s not that kind of guy. The fact that being with Maia is a dream for him too is meaningless, and so is the possibility that she might actually want him. Because does she really? Maybe this is still the alcohol talking. It has to be. Right?

It doesn’t even matter. All Din needs to do is extract himself from this situation in the least awkward way possible and without having to reject her verbally.

But how?

He points a finger at her. “Stay put.” She bites her bottom lip and acknowledges his order with a sloppy salute.

Damn it, the image of her lip caught between her teeth is now burned into his brain, haunting him with forbidden promise.

He pads back to the refresher in his socks and closes the door, relieving himself, flushing, and then pouring some cleaner down the toilet to sit overnight. He then washes up at the sink as fast as possible and refills the cup of water. Returning to his bedroom, Din places the cup on the nightstand along with the glowrod that belongs to his guest.

Speaking of whom…

In his brief absence, Maia has toed off her shoes, stripped naked and strewn her clothes across the floor, and burrowed under his covers. She’s still bleary from the booze, but he sees fire and lust behind her hopeful gaze as she blinks up at him.

It kills him.

He remembers he never finished removing his armour, so he retrieves the vambrace from where he threw it and places it on its shelf. Then he finally removes his stomach padding and puts that away too, directing his visor anywhere except at the naked woman in his bed. He’s doing everything possible to deny the physical reaction her presence is giving rise to.

When he’s done, Din approaches the bed again, acutely aware that she’s tracking him with a hunger he shares but can do nothing about.

Fuck, this is torture. The blanket has slipped down (or maybe Maia has arranged it) so low that it’s daringly close to exposing her nipples. She’s right there, waiting for him. Wanting him.

But she’s drunk. And she’s his kid’s babysitter. He tries to quell his ache by thinking about how she’s thrown up this evening, which would make kissing gross. It helps for a second, although the idea of kissing her at all ends up eclipsing the negatives, and he hardens even more.

Shit, he cannot think about kissing her. Or how naked she is. Or anything like that. Vomit. He should focus on vomit.

Okay. Din taps off the bedside light and picks up the glowrod, then heads to the door in the dark, stumbling over her clothes strewn on the floor. He can’t activate his helmet’s night vision without his vambrace control, but he won’t put it back on just to navigate his escape. Nor will he switch on the glowrod yet because he doesn’t want to see any dismay or regret in her eyes as he leaves her. He wants to remember the hunger he witnessed there.

Hazardous garments notwithstanding, he finds his way to the exit.

Crossing the darkened doorway’s threshold, he whispers, “Get some rest, Maia.” Then he fumbles for the control and taps the door close button, releasing a sigh as it swishes shut behind him.

Switching on the dim glowrod, he traipses upstairs. It’s going to be so kriffing awkward in the morning. Nonetheless, one thought keeps repeating itself to him above all others, one he can no longer prevent his dick from swelling at the prospect of.

Is she really attracted to him?

He has to know.

Din extracts another blaster from his cabinet, knowing he won’t sleep without one beside him. Then he sits heavily on the couch, thinking about how often he used to sleep in his helmet before this cabin became his home. It’s the first place he’s felt secure enough to remove it at night, so he’s no stranger to sleeping beneath his beskar mask. It’s almost a comfort in a way.

With his face covered in a darkened room lit by nothing but a glowrod while those he cares for slumber downstairs, more memories return…

Sitting in the Crest’s darkened cockpit, fucking his fist by the swirling glow of hyperspace, chasing a release during those first stressful days as a fugitive. In theory, if something had pulled him out of hyperspace, someone could’ve quite literally caught him with his dick in his hand. But the odds of anyone being close enough to peer in through the transparisteel at that very moment and notice his furtive actions were slim. Back then, he was so untethered that in his weaker moments, he desperately sought anything that made him feel good. Fleeting moments when he could pretend his life wasn’t falling apart yet again. The risk was worth it.

Here, too, although he’s locked up the cabin and closed the shutters, there’s a risk of Maia sneaking up the stairs and finding him. But a similar desperation fills him now – the utter frustration of loss. Back then, it was the loss of a stable income, the loss of his covert. Now, it’s his missed chance – the loss of what could’ve been with the woman downstairs. And maybe even the total loss of her in his life. Perhaps she’ll be too embarrassed about this evening’s events and quit. Din couldn’t take that, nor could Grogu. It’s why he tried to avoid this.

Can they get past this? Maybe he ought to find someone else to care for the kid. Would that be best? This is getting too complicated. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

So, right now, he’ll imagine the positive and lose himself in the fantasy, just like he used to. He’ll think about the hunger he saw in her eyes and let himself believe it wasn’t merely the alcohol. Just for tonight, he’ll believe it’s the truth. The risk, once again, is worth it.

He’s already tenting his loose flight suit pants, so he fumbles to expose himself and relaxes against the couch cushions behind him. The wet spot on his underwear displays just how profoundly turned on he is simply by the idea of being with Maia.

After all the temptation it’s endured this evening, his cock is extra sensitive, so he begins with measured, lazy strokes. Whilst he’d love to revel in the fantasy, he knows he won’t last long. As he imagines joining her in his bed, filling his palms with those half-exposed breasts he saw, pressing his naked body against her, his movements begin to speed up and his pressure increases. Very soon, he’s plummeting toward the edge of ecstasy like a podracer pilot with the finish line in sight.

His helmet tips back to stare at the ceiling as he pictures how it would feel to sink into her warm depths, and the notion ignites his fuse, burning rapidly. It only takes a few more strokes before the powder keg within him explodes into a million tiny raptures. His hips stutter, his muscles clench, and his orgasm tears through his body. He comes hard, and a fractured groan far louder than he’d intended escapes through the modulator as he spills forth his pleasure…

Fucking. Bliss.

Din’s mind is blank for some time, just a sense of fulfilment and contentment gently rippling throughout his relaxed form.

As the real world filters back in, he’s able to think clearly, and he now knows what he has to do. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the mature and sensible option. It’s also a fucking daunting prospect, but he’s faced worse. Has he? Yes, he has. He can do it.

He tucks himself away and finds a cloth to wipe down the mess on his flight suit. That task makes him realise he’ll have to sneak into his bedroom tomorrow without waking Maia to grab his armour and some fresh clothes. And now he really needs to do laundry tomorrow. The only pants he has left are the tighter ones, which he tries to avoid wearing around her. Great, there’s another reason to dread the morning. Although it’s not as if he’s ever caught her checking out his package – she may tease him verbally, but her gaze is always polite.

For now, he’ll enjoy the security of darkness and the lingering swirl of happy chemicals in his brain.

Din lays down on the couch and switches off the glowrod. With a deep sigh, he surrenders to the relaxing state of comfort brought on by his orgasm, letting himself fall into a contented sleep. Before he drifts off, his last thought is of Maia’s beautiful lips… leaning in for a kiss….

If only.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

[PART 2 COMING ON 1 JUNE 2024]

Those of you who've read my work before will be familiar with my copious end notes:

As usual, it’s British spellings I’m afraid. Demographic stats say about 60% of you are American, but I can’t help where I was born, so sorry about all the extra ‘u’s and ‘l’s and for using ‘s’ where you would expect ‘z’. However, I’ve channelled my inner linguist and used American language and speech patterns since the show is filmed in the US and Din’s accent is American. All other wording is internationally neutral, including Maia’s dialogue (since the next chapter is written from her POV and I’ll be switching to second person reader insert for that, e.g. you/your pronouns). I’m a little sad I didn’t get to include any Mando’a linguistics in this fic tbh. Maybe another time.

The cabin’s layout is inspired by the concept art by Christian Alzmann that appeared in the closing credits of s3e8, in which there appears to be a staircase leading down to a lower level. That makes sense to me, as Din would need total security to sleep without his armour on, and a windowless underground room seemed appropriate. I also like the parallel that on the Razor Crest he used to sleep on the lower level in a windowless room too.

I know Carl’s absence is going to be felt when we finally get the movie, so I wanted to write something where Karga is still around. If this had been a longer piece, I would’ve had him actually featuring in it instead of being in the background, but in any case, Karga lives forever in the universes I write.

The reference to Din wearing looser pants is, weirdly, Canon. One of the ways you can tell it’s Brendan Wayne in the suit is because he seems to prefer these weird baggy clown pants. Contrast to Pedro who likes them tight (Din Peña?), as does Lateef Crowder, and as did Barry Lowin in season 2. Since Brendan did the majority of season 3, we saw Din in the loose-fitting style a lot more, so I decided to write in a reason for that beyond actor preference.

Though we have no information on Nevarro’s judiciary system, they’re an independent world who have a marshal and a magistrate, so my guess is they’d adopt the New Republic’s system of having a tribunal. Generally, group decision-making is favoured during this era, in contrast to the single-judge system of the Imperial era, so it seems more likely that Karga would encourage citizens to serve on a tribunal rather than unilaterally passing judgments himself.

Apologies to @the-mandawhor1an for using the name of your longtime established OC – it was coincidental, I promise! I chose it after looking up the most common female names in the world, one of which is Maria, and I settled on the variant Maia because it sounded like a more Star Wars-y version (and for another reason which you’ll see in part 2). I only realised when you reblogged my WIP Wednesday snippet, and it was a bit late to change it by then. I guess it’s a common name in the SWU too! But I’m sorry and I hope you don’t feel like I’m muscling in on your domain. Your Maia is of course the original Maia 💖

I made the GIF myself. Sorry it’s a bit blurry, I’m not very good at making them yet. I tried to use Tumblr’s GIF-making function, but it wouldn’t let me crop out Grogu’s ears, so this was my alternative attempt. It’ll have to do.

Definitions: Comlinks are those little cylinder comms they all use. Glowrod is a catch-all term for anything portable that produces light. All the swears/insults (stinking stang, frotz, borked, kriff, kark) are from the Legends list of phrases and slang this time (it’s longer than Canon). Nevarran reptavians are the ones that Grogu saved Karga from in s1e7 and that the Mandalorians were roasting in s3e7. Ferrocrete is a compound building material (Canon and Legends) made from concrete and iron, used in roads, reinforced bunkers and building foundations. I figured Din would only be happy with something strong and defensible, so Karga had the cabin built with it. Transparisteel is used for windows and ship viewports, as well as helmet visors.

Part 2 is written and will be uploaded next weekend once proofing/editing is complete. What do we think? Is Din gonna be dumb and tell her she can’t babysit Grogu anymore? Deny himself what he wants for Maia’s own good?

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@foomoosworld @jude77 @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an

Those tagged below showed interest in my masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs), so I thought I’d sneak in some extra tags. Apologies if it’s too forward, if you’d prefer I didn’t tag you in part 2 just let me know…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

94 notes · View notes

adora-but-ginger · 13 hours

Text

Ardently Yours

ardent (adjective): to fall into strong feelings for or to develop a crush; to begin to love

pairing: spencer reid x psychic! gender neutral reader

synopsis: the four times where you almost call spencer by his first name, and the one time that you do

warnings: typical cm talk and discussions, a quick undercover case, spencer reid is NOT straight, honestly assume that any character i write for isn't straight, food mentions, swearing (probably), nervous spencer at the end, me having a bias towards glasses reid

masterlist

word count: ~5k

a/n: here is the next installment for my psychic reader collection! i spent a lot of time and effort on this one, and i have not written something this long in awhile, so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do!

want to be tagged? let me know!

not proofread whoops again

credit to gif owner!

"Why do you drink coffee when you don't even like it?" You were by the kitchenette as Spencer rolled up for his morning caffeine fix, caught off guard by the realization that he wasn't alone.

He turned to you, adding sugar into his beverage. "Caffeine is a stimulant that increases your brain and nervous system's alertness. We work really odd hours. I don't understand what you're asking." The flow of sugar didn't stop until he was almost done talking, your eyes widening every second he kept pouring.

"Yes but aren't there other drinks that get the same result? Why coffee when you obviously don't like the taste?" You watched as he stirred the sugar-with-a-dash-of-coffee drink together, combining the ingredients.

He shrugged as he pushed up his glasses to sit better on his nose. "It's what's easily available."

"Hmm." You scrunched your eyebrows together. "Do you like tea?"

"I much prefer tea, actually." A wisp of hair fell in front of his face, and you were tempted to push it away. You weren't going to, that was absurd. But you were tempted. You had just reached a truce not too long ago and put your differences aside, meaning you had to make every moment count if you wanted to keep the peace.

Reid surveyed the room before continuing, as to watch for any possible intruders. "Last time I walked in with tea though, Morgan commented on my cup and would only talk to me in a horrible British accent the rest of the day." A small smile crept onto his features. "Learned that lesson quite quickly."

Now that you didn't seethe at the sight of him, you were able to read Reid better. Six months into the BAU now and you were able to have civilized conversations with the genius, progress that you valued as you got to know him. He was skeptical of what you could do with your mind still, but at least he was less vocal about it.

Something was different this morning though, but that may just be on your side. Because at seven a.m. sharp Spencer walked into the bullpen with those frames of his adorning his face, something that he hadn't done since the first month you were here. Why was that a problem? Because you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.

Maybe it was the change, or maybe it was something else, but you were put into a daze the first few seconds you saw him.

You came back to reality just in time for him to make his leave, and you made the collective decision to make a pit stop on the way in tomorrow if there were no cases announced today. You needed a change of pace in your morning routine anyway. At least, that's what you told yourself as you walked back to your desk, getting Emily's attention before striking up a riveting conversation with her regarding her weekend plans.

The next day when you walked into the office, you were balancing two drinks, one pastry, and a load of anxiety in your hands. You were the first one there, showing up a half an hour early as Spencer appeared twenty minutes early on the dot without missing a day. You had stopped by the café next to your apartment on your way here, getting yourself a drink and ordering a tea for Spencer that felt right. You didn't know what he usually had, but your mind searched his the day before to get a good grasp of the basics.

You knew that he had a big thing with germs (which was completely justified) and so you delicately laid down a folded napkin as a coaster for his tea before writing a little note of what it was. You signed with your initials before rounding to your own desk, just in the nick of time. You glanced down at your watch as it struck twenty-to, and watched nonchalantly as Reid walked into the office, immediately noting your presence and giving an awkward wave. The rest of the team filed in not too long after, and before you knew it you had lost a few hours to paperwork. It wasn't until midday that you felt a presence near your desk, the energy telling you it was Reid before you even looked in his direction.

"You got me baked goods. And a drink. Why?"

"The tea is caffeinated, and it's green--I know some people have sensitivities to other bases but usually green is a safe bet. It was no big deal, I had a couple punch cards that I turned in for free goodies so please don't think you owe me anything."

He awkwardly leaned against the side of your desk, trying to find a place to stick his hands. "Why did you do it?"

"Why do you think I did it?"

"I'm not sure. I looked up the shop on the cup and it's ten minutes in the opposite direction from here, you didn't go out of your way did you?"

Yes, you totally did. "No not at all, it was on my way."

He squinted at you, knowing you were telling a fib but not confident enough to call it out.

"Plus, I get the feeling you like pastries of the sort."

A smile flashed across his face. "I do, actually, the one you got is my favorite type."

You shot him a wink. "I thought so. You like the drink too?"

His shoulders slumped into a more relaxed response as the conversation went on. "I did, I never had that type before, but it was quite nice. The flavors were all very balanced, and I appreciated the sugar packets you brought along with it." He stood up, beginning to head back to his desk. "Thank you."

"Anytime Reid."

Were you there long enough to use his first name? It was a tricky thing, names, because some didn't mind being on a first-name basis from the get-go, but Reid was different.

It almost fell from your lips just then too, as he was walking away.

Maybe today wasn't the day, but you hoped soon it would be.

ii.

You were called into a case before you could finish your Saturday morning routine, and by midday the jet was taking you to Kentucky. with the woods surrounding you on pretty much all sides. That plus the humidity ever present equaled a very irritable team.

It was two days in when the profile was given, but your focus was on one of the local cops at the department. You didn't want to make it a big deal, but your incessant glaring was clearly making him uncomfortable. He was hiding something. Prentiss was the one to cue you first, nudging your arm after realizing you weren't letting up on your stare down.

"What is it? Everything alright?" She crossed her arms as she followed your line of sight.

"Yeah, it's just something's off."

"What's off?" Spencer appeared seemingly from nowhere and perched himself on your other side.

"Oh, hey Reid." Emily nodded in your direction. "They're reading Mr. Cowboy Boots over there." Sure enough, the cop had a pair on that did not match the uniform at all.

"His aura is different." You squinted as he gathered up some paperwork. "Most of the people in this office have an uncomfortable energy, but his is just...different. Not a good different either." A moment of silence filled the air. "Plus, I hate that toupee of his. It looks like a joke." He turned towards the three of you and you all glanced in separate directions, trying but failing to look like you hadn't just been studying him.

"The way he flows just doesn't match the energy of the others, and I'm going to figure out why."

"How can you tell?" Spencer looked from the man in question to the other locals, trying to understand an inch of what you were saying.

You kicked off from the wall you were slouching against before starting on your way towards him. "I just can. Give me a minute." And off you went.

You just needed to strike up small talk with him, really look into his eyes to try and uncover your rising suspicions. You were in earshot of Emily and Reid still, and it didn't take you long to understand why you were feeling the way you were.

Nodding as an exit cue, you booked it toward your two coworkers. "Call Garcia." You closed your eyes for a second, focusing your thoughts. "He knows the unsub. I don't know how, but either through friendship or familial ties, Boots over there is familiar with these murders.

"All you did was discuss tomorrow's weather, how can you know?" Spencer looked at you, confusion written all over those chiseled cheekbones.

You hummed as you reached out to flick an invisible piece of dust from his sweater vest. "His heart, it tells a story. A story of betrayal, of protecting a secret. Not like a typical hidden truth, but something much, much darker. He's inserting himself into this case as much as he can because of it." He reached for his found to send Penelope your info, no matter how apprehensive he was about it. You could tell he was unsure, but if it meant getting one step closer to catching this killer, he wasn't going to question it. Not now at least.

He picked up his phone, adjusting his glasses as he did so. "Hey, Garcia? We need you to check something out."

Emily went to relay the information to Gideon, and you took a moment to admire the boy genius. You had to admit that ever since you two started getting along, you were seeing him in a new light. A light that you wished minded its own damn business. His awkwardness was adorable, and when he showed up to the case today wearing those glasses of his, well, you had to pencil in a cold shower for later.

Whether he knew it or not, he truly was gorgeous.

You weren't planning to acknowledge those feelings anytime soon though. There was a killer on the loose and this was the last thing you needed to be thinking about right now.

"He hasn't slept since the beginning of the case either. Those bags under his eyes are days old and he--" Spencer stared at you as he telephoned your information to Garcia's side. "He has a grass allergy. That last part isn't important, I just needed to let someone else know that I knew that too." You mumbled the last part of yourself, looking briefly out towards the cloudy evening.

He turned towards you, shooting you a confused look. He covered the phone with his hand. "You can tell if someone has an allergy?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I can." You squinted your eyes at him, and you two had worked together enough now that he knew you were reading him. "You're allergic to pollen." The lack of reaction from him was reaction enough. "And peaches? Cantaloupe, too."

The corner of his eye twitched, and you smirked at your victory. He resumed his attention to the phone. "Garcia, they're freaking me out again, reading my mind."

Maybe you two were friends. Friends call each other by their first names, right? You silently tested it out on your tongue.

Gideon's voice grabbed the two of you's attention before his name could fall from your lips.

iii.

You were not a fan of going undercover. It was a part of the job that you thankfully didn't have to exercise much of, but whenever the opportunity arose, you did your best to avoid it. It was uncomfortable, especially when you fit the victimology to a tee. You had a weapon tucked away as a fail-safe, but there you were, sitting alone in a bar with a glass untouched in front of you.

Act as though you had a fresh break-up, he's going after people who seem heartbroken.

Make sure not to draw too much attention.

Let us know the moment he leads you out. Click the pen and we'll be sent an alert.

You were a decent actor, but it felt weird knowing that you were practically bait for this case. It didn't help that you hated the bar setting, the sticky floors, questionable seats, and dim lighting. Not to mention they were always overcrowded whenever you went. No, you'd much rather be at home, or honestly anywhere rather than here.

"Any updates?" Reid's voice sounded through your earpiece, relaxing you a little. The team was strategically placed outside the establishment, with Spencer also somewhere within the pool of people inhabiting this bar. Back-up, he called it, though you were pretty sure that you'd be a better shot than he was. Plus, he hated this setting even more than you. So why was he here?

You tried to search for him, attempting to find the brunette in the mass of people. You caught someone's eyes in the process, quickly locking theirs with your own before moving on.

Here we go.

The man fit the profile to a tee, and noticing that you were alone started to make his way to you.

You swirled your drink in your hand as he sauntered up to you. Even if you weren't here undercover, you wouldn't go near this guy with a jousting pole. Time to put on the charm.

"Well hey there, you look lonely."

You put on an overly friendly smile. "Oh, you're too kind."

"Mind if I take a seat?"

One glance at him and you knew. This was your guy. You clicked the alarm disguised as a pen, and now you just had to get him out of the bar. "Go right ahead."

It took ten minutes before you could get anywhere, and by the time you convinced him to leave with you, you wanted to retch--his grubby hands were laying on your shoulder, rubbing it as he walked alongside you, other hand on the small of your back.

You were definitely making sure that as a reward for putting up with this, you had your paperwork covered for at least a week.

One moment you felt the fresh evening air, the next you heard shouts from all sides. But then you felt cold metal against your neck, and you realized this was going to take a little longer than expected. This is exactly why you hated going undercover.

"Put the guns down or they get it." You hadn't been on this side of the job yet, being held hostage with your teammates staring down the possibility of what one wrong move could mean.

"Statistically, killers like you try to take the path of police-assisted suicide in a situation like this, but you can make it out with a life sentence if you're smart about it. Either way, you'll never see what life looks like out of cement walls." Reid's voice sounded from behind you, as you welcomed the wave of relief that swept over you as his voice hit your ears. "Choose wisely."

You sensed it before it happened. You kicked his kneecap in as he went to swipe at you, and though you ended up with pain lightly searing against your clavicle, there Reid was, handcuffing him before handing him over to Morgan.

Spencer noticed your wound and moved towards you. "Is it deep?"

You shook your head. "No, just stings."

"I had eyes on you the entire time. I know it was really busy in there, but I was there. Just in case. I didn't lose you, you were safe." He waited a second before continuing. "Let's go get that cleaned up, it's pretty nasty looking."

You sent a smile at the man. "Thank you. Seriously, Spen--"

Gideon called both of your names before you could finish the sentence, leaving his first name still unknown on your lips.

iv.

The weather was just starting to clear again. It wasn't humid in D.C. and the temperature was at a steady rise, though it was still bearable. You had been talking with Hotch about weekend plans, which you had to admit was a little odd.

It wasn't that you and Aaron didn't get along, per se, but you two had just never sought the other out during non-work hours. He was telling you about his partner, Hailey, who sounded lovely. You'd never seen the man as lively as when he was talking about her.

"And then she offered to go to the art gallery to see the new exhibit, which I didn't even know about."

"You like art?" You were leaning against his desk with a cup of coffee in hand.

"I do. What about you, any events planned?"

You shook your head. "No, just me and my fish catching up on some reading hopefully."

"You know Reid reads too?" Hotch looked over to the man of the hour who was coincidentally staring back, quickly glancing away as if caught.

"Reid reads. There has to be a pun in there." You snorted at your words, shrugging afterward. "He reads books that I have no interest in though, and I distinctly remember hearing about his disdain for fiction, which is my forte."

"I'm sure if you asked him, he would." He paused for a moment before shuffling some papers. "You two could start your own book club."

This was the thing with Aaron, you could never tell if he was joking.

"In fact, he's coming this way now." Surprise scribbled onto your face as you turned to look behind you. Sure enough, like he'd been summoned, there was Spencer striding over. His contacts must have been picked up because he was bare-faced today, which made no difference to you--your heart still skipped a beat. You noticed he was giving off lots of nervous energy as he approached, though from the outside he looked relatively relaxed.

"Why are you nervous Reid?" Never one to beat around the bush, you were.

That relaxation quickly dissipated as he looked towards you and Hotch. His eyes met yours. "How do you--never mind. Do you have a second?"

You nodded. "Hotch, tell me how the exhibit goes, yeah?" With a nod from Aaron, you met Spencer halfway, motioning him to lead the onward. "What's up?"

He didn't speak until you got to his desk. "First, before I say anything, know that I do not mind at all if you say no."

"Okay...?" You watched him skeptically as he fiddled with his hands, looking at you every few seconds before surveying the room. "What, are you about to ask me on a date or somet--"

"I have two tickets to the star show they're hosting at the planetarium on Saturday, and I know that you love the constellations. I've been once before and it was really nice, they tell you all about the patterns and legends behind each one and I think you'd really like it. Penelope suggested I ask you since you usually are relatively free on the weekends, which isn't a bad thing of course. In fact, I don't usually do much on the weekends besides going to the park and playing chess with the regulars there." He was rambling, truly on edge about how'd you respond. A smile started to rise on you. "It's later in the evening so when you leave the planetarium you can see the stars in question, but it's not too far from my place and you do not have to go if you're busy or don't want to, I just thought I'd ask."

His eyes were wide as you ate up every one of his words. His voice was like the harmony of your favorite song--you loved to pick it out and listen to how each of the words he spoke flowed. His face had a tint of rose on it, and a piece of hair had fallen into his eyes. You had to once more withhold from pushing it back into place.

"I would love to go, where would you like to meet?"

Shock was written all over his features at your accepting of his invitation, and you were pretty sure he was already preparing a proper response to a rejection when you said your words.

"You want to go?"

A nod accompanied you. "Yeah, you can teach me all about the science and I can teach you all about your star sign."

He shot you a quizzical glance before relaxing his shoulders. Man, he was really tense. "Okay. Okay, great! I can send you my address. We can walk there from my place, it's only about ten minutes away. It's at 7 pm, does that work?"

"Works perfect for me." A thought popped into your head, one that could make this outing seem to be much more than it really was. "That's a little past when I eat, want to grab dinner beforehand?"

He scrunched his eyebrows at you. Uneasiness started to form in your belly, maybe you were being a little too bold. "What type of dinner? Restaurant dinner or takeout dinner?"

"We could do takeout? You said you know a 24-hour Thai place around here, right? It's one of your favorite places in the area."

He was almost caught in a trance then, looking nearly through you, staring at you with an expression you had never really seen on his face before. "You remembered that?"

"Of course I did, I remember things about the people I care about."

He couldn't speak for a second after your words. Yeah, you were definitely being too bold.

"You--" His voice cracked and you almost chuckled as he cleared his throat. "--I'll grab some food from there before we head out. Want to stop by around six?"

"Six it is. See you there, boy wonder." You shot a wink his way. "And thank you for the invite, I cannot wait to go." His first name was on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out at the slightest egging on. He looked almost expectantly at you and you had to remind yourself of where you were and who you were with.

This wouldn't be considered a date, would it?

Spencer totally thought this was a date. He could count the number of dates he'd been on on his hand, and most of them were with Ethan. It'd been a while since he'd gone out, and he was nervous.

What if he was overdressed? What if he was underdressed? What even was the dress code for the night? What if you didn't show up?

He tried to not let that last thought get to him because if it did then he would spiral and would all in all not have a good time tonight. This wasn't platonic, right? He didn't think it was. Did you? Did--

A knock at his door interrupted his ruminating. He scrambled to make sure he looked presentable, heart practically thrumming against his rib cage as he did so. There was just one problem.

He couldn't see.

It wasn't that he hated how he looked with his glasses on, but it made him feel self-conscious and he hated to wear the frames outside of his house. The only problem was that the last of his contacts had dried out, and he really wanted to look nice for your guys' outing. He could not see more than five feet in front of him for his life, which in retrospect kind of ruined the whole point of looking at the stars.

That didn't matter in his mind as long as it impressed you. He knew that he shouldn't dress to impress, but you and your alternative methods of profiling had snuck their way into his brain and refused to leave. He thought about whether you'd do the daily crossword with him almost every morning. He made sure to always bring an extra morning snack in the case that you got hungry. Hell, he was writing to his mother about you.

He was in much farther than he knew.

A second round of knocks sounded at the door.

He opened it after looking through the peephole and nearly lost his breath.

You were stunning, and he felt more out of his element than he had in years.

Wow, he was really in deep.

"Phew, I thought I had the wrong address at first. I am so ready for some Thai and stars!" You entered his place, but his mind was still a few steps behind. "This place is beautiful, and so...you!" Neat piles of books were stacked in rows alongside his couch, and as he went to readjust one's positioning his lack of visual clarity made him trip.

Great.

You rushed over to him, careful to keep your distance but still close enough to offer help if he asked. "Woah, are you alright there?"

"Yeah, I-I just must've not seen where I was heading." He could feel the dust adorning his cheeks. He was totally making a fool out of himself. "Please, take a seat at the table, the food is still hot."

You smiled and nodded, taking in the contents of his home whilst sitting down. He went over and grabbed the Thai food, bringing it over to the table. He set the food down and went to sit, not knowing that this was the moment before a disaster. One of the chairs must not have been fully pushed in, and with the combination of his nerves, and his blurriness, his foot got caught right over it as he went to sit across from you.

Now, you fully respected and understood Spencer's hatred of germs, so you'd apologize later for coming to the rescue. That being said, you sensed it a half a second before it was going to happen, stood up, and reached out to catch him.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" His arms were on yours, bracing them for stability. "What's wrong? Are you sick?" He could feel your eyes looking him up and down for any signs of maladies. "We can reschedule and go another night if something's wrong." He really did not want to admit the reasoning behind his clumsiness. "I can take you to the doctor's if you're feeling ill." Now he definitely had to expose himself. How would he even explain this to a medical professional?

Oh hey doc, I got told repeatedly that I look better with contacts and now the one time I need them I don't have them which ironically is the one night in years that I had to chance to go out with someone who I think I'm starting to really like so can you please give me a fake diagnosis so they didn't drive me here for nothing?

Yeah, that wasn't going to work. He had to bite the bullet. "I'm not sick." He slowly removed himself from your grasp. "I just can't see."

A concerned look graced your features. "What? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I just--"

"You just what Reid? You can talk to me. Your energy is super wonky right now. I'm getting a little worried for you."

This was stupid. He was acting stupid. He shouldn't be embarrassed by this. You were just looking out for him, that was all, it was all probably surface level anyway. It was all--

"Spencer, what's wrong?"

His breath stifled to a halt.

"What did you just say?"

Your concerned look deepened.

"I asked what was wrong."

You had never called him by his first name before.

He shook his head. "No, before that." His eyes met yours. "You've never said my first name before."

A flash of...regret? nerves? shot through your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries. I should've asked--"

"Say it again." He properly sat down. "My name I mean, say it again. Please."

"You're not mad?" You were tentative with your words now, adding his name after a beat. "...Spencer?"

His name formed like the first rain shower after a draught on your lips, falling with the grace of the autumn leaves from your tongue.

"You've never called me that before." His expression was shy, and man he wished he could see more than your blurry figure right now. "I, uh, thought I could go without my glasses tonight, but I also don't have my contacts."

"Would you like me to call you that more?" You were going to make him go into freaking cardiac arrest. He nodded fervently. Your shoulders slightly lost some of their tension. "Why would you do that to yourself? You wouldn't be able to see."

"Statistically those who wea--"

"Spencer."

Oh, he was turning to putty now. You were going to kill him, and he didn't mind.

"I thought I would look better without them."

A scoff emitted from you. "If you need them to see, you need them to see. Don't change your appearance for the approval or interest of someone else." He felt the red rush up his neck, around his ears. "Plus," You added with a quieter tone. "I think you look plenty good with them on." You locked eyes. "Gorgeous, even. There's a reason Morgan calls you pretty boy, you know."

Gorgeous? You just called him gorgeous. No one had called him that before.

"Really?"

"Really, Spencer."

Yeah, he was done for.

taglist:

@alllriseabove @kitty-kei @donttrustlove @jiuseoks

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #bau #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #gender neutral reader #psych you out in the end #spencer reid fanfiction

89 notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 17 hours

Text

Mercy-Five

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: thank you to everyone who was incredibly patient in the long two and a half months it took for me to update this. I am so proud of myself for busting through this chapter this past weekend. I am VERY excited for what's to come! Huge thank you and shoutout to @thescarlettvvitch for all the LOVELY ideas. I had so much fun creating the gif.

Tags[OPEN]: @happi-goth @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka @malice-ov-mercy @respectfulrebel @themortaljessica @crimson-calligraphyx @blackveilomens @lyschko666 @iknownothingpeople @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus

NOAH

With a sigh, I rolled over in bed and stretched out an arm towards Lethia, hoping to feel her warmth again but was met with cold sheets. I removed my head from underneath the pillow to see that the space next to me had been empty for a while.

“Lethia?” I called out while rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Silence.

After I got into bed with her last night and we said our goodnights, neither of us said a word. Letting the silence that encased my bedroom be the eerie white noise we needed to fall asleep. My dreams were filled with all the information I had found out moments before coming to bed and the feathers tucked away in the studio's closet. I hadn’t told Lethia what I knew, I wanted her to be the one to tell me. It was her secret to tell.

If she ever did.

Slowly dragging myself out of bed, I let my feet guide me over to the bathroom across the hall.

Do angels even go to the bathroom?

I shook my head with a chuckle and peeked into the bathroom only to be met with darkness. Once I made it downstairs and through the quiet house, I noticed the back patio door open, the cool breeze wrapping around my bare legs.

“Lethia?” I called her name again when I stepped outside.

Just past beneath the trees to our backyard was a path that led down to the beach less than a mile away and something in my gut was telling me to follow the path. I only made it a few feet away when something black on the fence caught my eye.

One of Lethia’s feathers.

I hesitated slightly, not knowing if it was a good idea to touch it now knowing what I do. It would take me into a part of her memories and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see something else I couldn’t understand. It felt as if the memories were getting stronger, more intense, and there was a part of me that feared I might not be able to pull myself out of it.

“Fuck it,” I muttered.

With my fingers wrapped around the soft feather, I felt the darkness creep in, pulling away at my subconsciousness. My breath caught in my throat as my soul went through a black tunnel, throwing my body from left to right, and when the oxygen was constricted any longer, the white haze around my eyes cleared. I blinked rapidly before gazing around at my surroundings.

There was an eerie calm. But the ringing in my ear caused me to cover them for a moment. It was an annoying sound but after a moment, I got used to it and pocketed my hands in my sweats.

Movement from my right caused me to whirl around and what I saw took my breath away.

Lethia stood in front of me, in her old form. The exposed skin from her sheer white dress was clean and innocent; not a mark of ink anywhere.

The only way I knew it was Lethia was from her smile. It radiated comfort and solace, something I found myself falling for. There was a connection between us that I couldn’t explain and it drove me absolutely mad. I couldn't figure out why she felt so familiar.

Lethia was standing on a mountain's edge, the soft and quiet breeze blowing through the feathers of her wings. Her hair danced over the freckles on her shoulders and from my position behind a tree, I watched as a smile graced her face.

“I was wondering when you would show,” her angelic voice rang out.

My heart skidded in my chest and for a moment, I thought she was talking to me and I was ready to step out from behind the tree. But then another figure stepped forward, his wings breaking the branches as he emerged from the forest.

“It was hard for me to slip away, Lethia.”

She turned to face the man and I tore my gaze away from her to take in the sight of the angel. Large stone gray wings extended from his back but unlike Lethia’s, he had a design to them.

Gold lines, almost like veins, vibrated with color as he shook them out. His hair long and dark, pulled back out of his face, and Lethia brushed away a loose strand; tucking it behind his ear. From my position, I could only see the man’s back.

The white shirt clung to the muscles as he moved his arms around Lethia to bury his face in her neck. I expected to feel jealous at seeing how close they were but instead, I felt at peace.

“The King has you caged like one of his peasant animals,” she sighed deeply. “How can we ever be together?”

The man gave her a small smile. “It will all be worth it, Lethia. Soon we can go wherever we like. Leave the Kingdom.”

Her eyes widened. “Leave the Kingdom? Are you mad? Where would we go?”

“There are places outside of here. I’ve seen them and they are gorgeous. Vast fields of green, the colors here in the Kingdom pale in comparison to what I’ve seen there. The light creates a humming glow and the sounds of the birds make you want to dance.”

The two of them began to sway, dancing in the wind, and Lethia laid her head on the man’s chest.

“Oh, Knoa. This place sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “Can you take me there soon?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Soon. We can create a home there, rule the two of us. Anyone who is tired of the King’s ruling will join us.”

“How are you so sure?” Lethia gazed up at him.

“They’re all lost and looking for the meaning. I've been searching high and low for it. Some think that we will fade into nothing, going up in the smoke, and fail. Some may think we will beg the King for a mercy that we both know he would not show.”

Blinking rapidly, I looked around to see that I was back in my backyard and it took me a long moment of staring straight ahead to process what I’d seen. Lethia was with a different angel this time, not Lucifer.

Knoa.

Was this angel before or after Lucifer?

Pocketing the feather, I continued down the trail behind my house and towards the beach. The waves crashed against the rocks, echoing loudly into the dark sky above. There wasn't anyone on the beach and when I was ready to give up, I saw a flash of black off in the water.

Enormous wings lapped up the salty brine of the ocean water and the figure stood with their arms outstretched. Lethia’s face made my heart leap in my throat when I took in the euphoric bliss on the soft feature of her face.

Her wings looked heavy but the way she moved through the water at a rapid pace made it seem like they weighed nothing. I already knew what she was but seeing her in her true form silenced the lingering doubt that plagued my mind.

Lethia tip-toed out of the water, standing on the shoreline and that's when I noticed she was naked. Her perky nipples begging to be tasted and the water droplets between her breasts slipped down over her navel and towards her pussy.

“Shit,” I muttered while adjusting my cock.

Her crimson eyes snapped up at me and we stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us saying anything.

“I knew it,” I breathed.

Lethia’s lips twitched. “What?”

Taking a tentative step towards her, her wings shook causing a gust of wind to blow through my hair. They were even larger close up and the darkness of them felt like I was staring in the depths of someone's subconsciousness.

“I knew it,” I repeated without taking my eyes off the wings.

“How?” Lethia questioned, unmoving.

My eyes finally darted to her face. “I found some of your feathers and slowly things started to come together. I researched some things last night.”

Her shoulders went even more stiff. “My feathers. You’ve seen-?”

“Your memories,” I finished for her with a nod. “I’ve seen Oblivion, Lucifer, and Knoa.”

Her brows furrowed while shaking her head. “Knoa?”

“He talked to you about a new kingdom. A place where the two of you could rule,” I explained.

The confusion never left her face and that’s when I realized she had no idea who I was talking about. For a second, I thought I might have slipped into someone else's memories but I was certain it was Lethia who I saw in that particular scene.

“I saw you in your old form,” I closed the distance between us.

Her lips turned down in a scowl. “Oblivion. Do you still prefer what you see in front of you now?”

I cupped her cheek. “Definitely.”

There was a strong urge to run my fingers through the feathers but I was hesitant. If merely touching her dropped feathers dragged me into her memories, what would happen if I touched her wings?

“You can only see my memories from a dropped feather,” she answered my thoughts.

“Can you read minds?” I asked, not being able to hide the excitement in my voice.

She giggled. “No, but the hesitation in your eyes was clear.”

I raised my hand slowly. “Can I?”

When she nodded, I let my fingers brush along the softness of her wings and marveled at how they felt against the roughness of my palm. Lethia gasped which caused me to rear my hand back in worry.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she shuddered. “Touch them again.”

I did and she gasped once more.

“I can feel your touch. The roughness of your fingers on each feather,” her eyes sparkled.

“I thought fallen angels couldn’t feel humans touch,” I said.

Lethia nodded while linking our hands together. “I can’t feel you here but I can feel you touch my wings.”

They encased us, protecting us from the outside world, and I felt a sense of peace fall around me. I couldn’t stop staring at them, marveled at the sheer strength and power they could possess.

“You’re not afraid?” Her voice was quiet.

I raised my brows. “Why would I be?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and I wanted to taste them so bad but refrained with the look of disgust in her eyes.

Not at me but at herself.

“They’re darkness. Evil. Every part of who I am now shows my transgressions,” she said.

“That’s not who you are anymore, Lethia,” I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “I don’t know the reason why you fell but think of it as a way to leave that part of you behind. Start fresh.”

“Fresh,” she repeated, as if mewling over the word.

We stayed like this for a long moment, letting the warmth of her wings block out the chill brought on by the ocean. It was then that I realized she was still naked and I let out a low cough, trying to keep my gaze on her face still.

“Did you want to get dressed?”

“Shit,” she cursed. “I almost forgot. I was taking a bath in the ocean. The salty brine helps my wings. They’re beginning to deteriorate from hiding my true form.”

Stepping away with the opening, I watched in awe as the large wings retreated into her back, hidden away beneath the slits of skin.

“Deteriorate?” I asked while she slipped on her clothes.

My eyes cast downwards for a moment and a flash of ink on her ribs caught my attention. A green snake.

“That’s why you keep finding my feathers. They’re falling off,” Lethia explained once fully dressed.

Linking her hand with mine, I brought her into my chest to lay a chaste kiss on her lips. Even if she couldn’t feel it, she still kissed back with equal force.

“You never have to hide from me, Lethia. I want to see all of you,” I said with a stern gaze.

Crimson eyes danced between mine and with a curt nod, she let out a long breath.

“I can’t believe you figured it out on your own.”

With a smug smile, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began leading her back up the beach towards my house.

“I’m quite perceptive with these things,” I informed as we slipped back inside the quiet house.

It was nearing four in the morning and everyone was still asleep as we quietly ascended the stairs back to my bedroom.

“Let’s get some sleep,” I suggested while tossing back the blanket.

“Angels don’t sleep,” Lethia informed while sinking low beneath the mounds of blanket on my bed.

Once I was lying next to her, I brought her into my chest and shivered when long black nails dragged over the tattoos.

“Does that mean you can’t dream?” I asked.

“Well funny story about that. One of my powers is that I dreamwalk in others dreams. I actually walked in yours a few times, unwillingly. I go wherever I’m needed I suppose. I have this familiar that follows me in every dream; leading me,” she said.

“Wait,” I gazed down at her. “A crow? With a white stripe of feathers?”

She rested her chin in her palm. “You see him too?”

“In my dreams. So that means when I dreamt of you, that it was actually you?”

Her cheeks reddened, thinking back to the dreams I had of her. “Yeah. I don’t know why it was your dreams I always found myself in. There’s a lot of things I’m still trying to understand.”

“Could you feel it when we would have sex?” I asked slyly.

A darkness crossed her features, the one that I found myself gravitating towards.

“Right now, I can’t feel your heartbeat,” she placed a palm on my chest. “But in your dreams, I could feel every inch of you.”

Now Lethia’s hand dragged down my stomach, those sharp nails leaving red marks in their wake, and when she reached my cock, I hissed out in pleasure. She palmed my cock and I let my eyes flutter shut.

“I can’t feel you physically, but I get this feeling inside of me; almost like a fire. It’s urging me to continue because I know it’s making you feel good.”

Lethia adjusted herself so her mouth was hovering over my sweats before she hooked her fingers in the waistband, slowly dragging it down over my hips.

“You don’t have-,” I tried to say but my voice was seized from me when I felt her cool lips around the warmth of my cock.

She hummed but I couldn’t tell what it was for. I knew she couldn’t feel the way my cock hit the back of her throat but could she taste the precum that gathered at the head?

Did it taste bitter?

Was it sweet?

Fuck, I wanted to taste her so bad.

“Lethia,” I moaned, grasping at the sheets beneath me when her tongue flattened against the base of my cock.

Her movements were precise, like she knew what she was doing. Even if she couldn’t feel how perfect her mouth was on me, Lethia used my moans and sighs of pleasure to guide her.

“Just like that,” I snaked my fingers through the short tendrils of her hair to keep her in place.

Our eyes met in a blaze of seduction and the way those crimson pupils shined with curiosity of if she was doing it right, I dragged a finger over her cheek.

“So good. You’re doing so good,” I praised. “I don’t know how it’ll affect you but tap on my thigh three times if you need me to stop.”

Lethia winked and with both hands at the base of her skull, I kept her in place to fuck into her throat. My pace was relentless as the head of my cock reached the back of her throat with ease and when her fingernails grazed over my balls, I felt my body ignite. The base of my spine tingled as I let out a guttural groan, her name falling from my lips as I came into her mouth.

Her hums of tasteful pleasure intertwined with mine as I spilled every last drop down her throat. She let go of my cock with an audible pop and wiped away the drool from her mouth with a slick wipe of her finger.

“You taste so fucking good,” Lethia whispered while placing tender kisses along my stomach.

“You were able to taste me?” I asked, still breathless from my orgasm.

She nodded with a wide smile. “I couldn’t feel your cock in my mouth but I could taste you. Everything I feel with you, I feel it here.”

Her finger traced a heart over my own.

“That was better than any dream,” I mused as she tucked herself underneath my arm again.

“And no little friend watching us,” Lethia teased with a wink.

Just to add to the humor, I made a show of looking around my bedroom for the crow with the white stripe of feathers but breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank fuck,” I murmured while tucking us deeper underneath the blanket.

We were quiet for a long moment until Lethia kissed the tattoos on my chest. “Thank you for being so understanding and not running away after you found out about what I am. There’s still a lot I don’t understand about myself.”

I squeezed her shoulder. “One day at a time, angel.”

The lines in her forehead creased when the realization of what I called her sinked low in my gut.

“To on the nose?” I asked.

“No, surprisingly I like it,” Lethia patted my chest before laying her head there. “Goodnight, Noah.”

My face twitched at hearing my name on her lips but thought nothing of it as I brought the blanket higher up over us.

“Sweet dreams, angel,” I teased with a smile.

LETHIA

I was falling down to the depths beneath the earth.

My body felt weightless as the darkness underneath me started to creep without warning of when I would hit the ground. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as I reached up towards the space in front of me, hoping by some miracle I’d be able to latch onto something.

Just as I braced for impact, the scenery changed and no longer was I falling. Instead I was standing in this unknown darkness in my angel form and my wings shook with the uncertainty of what would jump out.

“Hello?” I called out cautiously.

The silence was deafening and I couldn’t tell which way was right as I spun on my heels, my wings not even making a sound in this unknown void.

“The faith and the fighter.”

I froze at the deep voice. It sounded far away yet at the same time like it was spoken right in my ear.

“Lighting up the streets, singing for the damned.”

I whirled around, the voice now sounding farther away but I could feel the breath on the back of my neck. There was something so familiar about the richness of the voice but ice cold fear crept into my bones.

“Confessing to the choir.”

It was as if the voice was right in front of me, the warm breath fanning over my lips and I shuddered when the familiar smell tickled my nose.

No, it couldn’t be. There was no way he could be here. He couldn’t have found me.

Although, Maraxa did know where I was hiding and she could have easily told him where I was.

The all too familiar heat spread in my veins that made my wings flutter, the noise absent in the darkness. He was so close now, the anger radiating off of him in droves and I nearly collapsed with how it crushed my throat, making it hard to breathe.

Suddenly loud footsteps smacked on the ground at my feet, closer and closer. It came from in front, behind me, and on both sides. It sounded as if someone was running but I couldn’t figure out which direction.

A face appeared out of the darkness, bathed in a red glow but the even darker circles around those eyes made a broken cry fall from my lips.

“Bury every beast and we are born again!” Lucifer’s wicked smile spread across his face, showcasing the sharpness of his teeth.

The scene around me shifted, the warmth now overtaking me as I found myself standing in the middle of flames. It licked up my arms but I couldn’t feel the sting of pain. Through the lick of fire, a lone figure stood out and the pain from his screams stabbed me in my chest.

No.

No, no, no.

It isn’t.

A hand outstretched towards me, begging to be pulled from the fiery depths of Hell, and my eyes took in the sight of a tattoo; some kind of mandala flower.

“Lethia!”

I took a step towards the hand but hissed in pain when the flames caressed my skin.

“Please. Help me!”

Tears welled in my eyes as his name choked on my tongue. “No-Noah!”

“You can’t save him, my sweet Oblivion. His soul is mine,” Lucifer’s voice tickled my ear. “Just like yours is about to be.”

I woke up with a start, sitting up in bed and feeling the cool beads of sweat trickle down my back. My breathing was erratic and my veins were pumping the blood in my body so violently, I could hear it in my ears.

Noah stirred next to me and reached for me, wrapping the mandala flower tattooed hand on my thigh. I watched as his hand squeezed but felt absolutely nothing. Then that hand reached up to cup my cheek, dragging his thumb over the sharpness of my cheekbone.

Once again not able to feel anything.

I watched as his hand wrapped around behind my neck, bringing our lips together. The base of my spine vibrated, telling me that Noah’s tongue was brushing over mine. But the images of what I’d seen were hindering me, useless, unable to respond.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was laced with exhaustion and there was guilt eating away at me for waking him up.

“I’m fine,” I dragged through my hair, trying to ease the pounding of my heart.

Noah sat up in bed, his own sleep tousled hair a mess, but he still looked gorgeous.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fine. You’re acting like you had a nightmare?”

I thought about for a moment of lying, keeping up the ruse that I was fine, but deep down I knew I wouldn’t be.

“I don’t dream, so whatever this was,” I let out a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. “It felt too real. The flames when I tried to reach for you.”

Noah stiffened. “Flames?”

I turned towards him, pulling my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them. “I wasn’t in my own dream. I was in his.”

When Noah gave me a look of confusion, I bit my lip and said his name with fear.

“Lucifer.”

A bunch of different emotions passed through his face and I wasn’t sure how he was going to react.

“You saw me in the flames?” He asked.

I then reiterated the whole scene for him from beginning to end, not leaving any details out. Quickly, Noah left the bed to begin pacing his room and the red LED lights casted him in the same glow I’d seen Lucifer. I shuddered with that same fear, slowly sinking farther away from Noah.

“It sounds like an omen, Lethia. Lucifer shows up in your dream, tells you my soul is his. Am I going to die?” He stopped pacing to run a hand over his face.

Your lips parted to speak but hesitated for a moment to which Noah took the opportunity to speak again.

“Is that why you fell? You were sent here to tell me I’m going to die?”

“That’s not-,” I shook my head, still in my crouched position on his bed.

Noah chuckled dryly. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you tell me in the beginning? Why waste my fucking time with everything?”

My eyes narrowed. “I can assure you that I wasn’t wasting your time, Noah. It’s just that I'm still learning things. Figuring out why I fell into this time and not where Lucifer fell.”

Noah halted his pacing, dark eyes pinning me. “Is he going to stop looking for you?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed while resting my head against the wall next to Noah’s bed.

Silence fell between us for a long moment and Noah remained unmoving, eyes staring straight at me.

“What’s the point of this, Lethia?” He asked.

My eyes snapped away from the sharpness of my nails and sliced them into him. “Excuse me?”

“Lucifer won’t stop looking for you. He wants you back and it’s probably better that you’re with him instead of me,” Noah said with his hands on his hips.

I couldn’t figure out where the shift in attitude came from and it had me rising from the bed so I could stand toe to toe with him.

“This is pointless,” he continued. “You can’t feel my touch. You can’t feel anything about me. How would a relationship between us work?”

My face turned to stone, crimson eyes deepening with his words.

“That’s not fair, Noah. That’s not anything I can control,” I reminded him.

“Is that why you just magically dropped here?” He scoffed. “If I was going to fucking die you should have told me from day one.”

“I didn’t know. I swear,” I almost begged for him to believe me.

He didn’t say a thing, simply shrugged before crossing his arms over his chest. The silence between us was deafening and when I felt the tears burning in the corners of my eyes, I stood up straighter. I refused to cry for this mortal, no matter how I felt about him.

“Fuck this,” I grumbled while ripping my jacket from one of the hooks in his room and throwing it on me.

When I brushed past him, slamming my shoulder into his, Noah stumbled back but I gave no indication the push impacted me. But when the lone tear slipped down my cheek, I could hear his soft intake of breath.

“Lethia, I’m-.”

“Save it! I’m going to get some air,” I spat while slamming his bedroom door shut behind me.

By now, his roommates were awake and lingering throughout the house downstairs. As I reached the front door, Michael’s voice called out after me.

“Lethia, are you alright?”

But I didn’t bother saying anything. It wasn’t worth it. None of these mortals mattered anymore. My life wasn’t something that concerned them anymore and in the haste of my fight with Noah, I had one goal in mind.

Find Uriel.

However, my thunderous footsteps stopped when four figures stepped out of the dark street and boxed me in. My head snapped in all different directions and when the one familiar face stepped even closer, a low scowl pulled on my face.

“Ceecee,” I snarled.

The man adjusted the black bandana around his forehead before winking. “Nice to see you as well, Lethia. Although I must say, you’ve changed since we've seen you last.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

The man with spiked up black hair spoke next. “Do you know how long we’d been looking for you?”

“For all eternity, Jake?” I joked with not an ounce of humor in my voice.

“I never remembered you being such a jokester,” said Jinx, one of the other men.

I turned towards him with an unamused shrug. “But I do remember Lucifer always sending his little bitches to do his dirty work.”

The last man, taller than the others, wore a sour smile.

“Always the conversationalist, Lonny,” I faux sighed. “Nothing to say this time?”

His dark eyes never left my face. “I said everything I needed to say before.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I snapped. “You accused me of keeping Lucifer from his true potential. I was a snake in the grass.”

“Was I wrong?” Lonny extended his hands wide. “We all fell for your transgression.”

My upper lip recoiled. “Lucifer led me astray. It’s because of his betrayal to the King we all fell.”

Ceecee made a show of groaning while tying away the long strands of hair from his face. “You can come with us the easy way or the hard way.”

“NO! Please, not the hard way,” I overplayed my helpless voice before a dark chuckle fell from my lips. “We know all of you together are no match for me. I was higher ranked than you four up in the Kingdom.”

“Things are different now,” Jake said, his leather jacket slick from the earlier rain.

“You know, I’m surprised Maraxa isn’t here,” I clicked my tongue.

Lonny chuckled low behind me. “Lucifer was upset with her failed attempts so she’s chained in hell.”

I cocked a brow while glancing over my shoulder at him. “I take it as Lucifer is there, watching her beg for his forgiveness?”

“No, he’s actually been up here in the mortal realm for quite some time. Closer than you think,” Jinxed explained.

My arms were extended wide with a playful smirk on my lips. “I’m right here. Tell him to come and get me.”

“I already have.”

A voice inside my mind spoke and my wings exploded from my back as I turned towards that voice only to be met with darkness as it overtook all of my senses.

NOAH

I sat in my computer chair, knee bouncing so fast I was sure the guys could hear the floor shaking downstairs. I couldn’t stop biting the skin on the pad of my thumb as the worry began eating away at me. Lethia had been gone for almost an hour and with no way to reach her, I was at a loss of what to do.

I never meant the things I said. Us being together, whatever this relationship was, wasn’t pointless. I knew it was wrong of me to use the fact she couldn't feel my touch against her but when Lethia told me that Lucifer was not only after her soul but mine as well, I got scared. If you would have told me last month that I’d find myself falling for a fallen angel and had to worry about Lucifer coming after her, I would have laughed in your face.

My life had been soley Bad Omens until Lethia arrived. Now things changed and Lethia slowly became top on my priority list. For example, finding where she went.

Just as I sat up from my chair, ready to head downstairs and ask the guys for help, Jesse appeared at the open doorway of my bedroom.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything alright?”

No. Far from it. My girlfriend's, who's not my girlfriend, her ex-boyfriend is after her soul and mine.

I shifted on my feet while stuffing my hands in my pockets. “I don’t think so. Lethia and I had a fight. She stormed out of here almost an hour ago and I thought she’d be back by now but I’m worried something is wrong.”

Jesse nodded and held out his keys. “We can take my car.”

Quickly slipping on a sweater, I followed him down the stairs and filled in the rest of the guys in on our plan. To which Jolly and Orie said they’d go out looking as well and Michael would stay in case she came back.

Two hours later after scouring almost all of downtown L.A and our neighborhood twice, there was no sign of Lethia. But it wasn’t until we were walking back up the steps to the house that my eyes caught sight of the large black feather there.

How had I missed that before?

I gently covered it with my shoe as Orie, Jolly, and Jesse walked up.

“Have you tried calling her?” Orie wondered.

“Voicemail,” I lied, knowing she didn’t have a phone.

It was now mid afternoon and I knew the guys had plans to work on the studio for a bit so after thanking them for their help, I told them I was going to hang outside for the time being.

Once alone, I hastily picked up the feather beneath my shoe and felt that all too familiar feeling of my soul being dragged through the dark subconscious of Lethia’s mind.

I landed five houses down from my own to see a group of four men standing over the crumbled body of Lethia, who was protecting herself with her large wings.

“Hm, it’s a shame what she became. Are we sure he’ll even want her back,” a man wearing a bandana asked.

The tallest of the group and dark curly hair snorted. “If he doesn’t, I’m sure we could find use for her down there. We’re always in need of slaves.”

One of the men with spiky hair lifted Lethia’s body with ease and it was then I got a good look at her face. No marks indicating she was hurt but my heart stopped in my chest when I noticed how white and vacant her eyes were.

“Is Lucifer in the same place we left him?”

The man with the bandana nodded. “As soon as he found out where Lethia was staying, he refused to leave. He wanted to remain close.”

“Remember what he said Jake, not a hair on her head is to be misplaced. He wants her in all her glory.”

Jake rolled his eyes while adjusting his grip on Lethia. “How do you think he’ll react when he smells that mortal on her?”

“It will be a death that I cannot wait to experience,” The taller man smirked before all four of them extended their wings, all differentiating in size and color.

My eyes blinked a few times as I felt the earth tilt back on its axis, everything coming back to me with a force that had my breath shaking. Four angels took Lethia and they had plans to bring her back to Lucifer. I didn’t know where but what I did know was that they were close. And that once he found out Lethia and I had been together, it would only mean one thing for her.

Death.

“Fuck,” I raked a shaking hand through my hair. “Fuck!”

The sounds of fluttering wings echoed behind me and I swiftly turned on my feet, expecting to see Lethia but instead saw the crow. It was perched on a branch up in the large willow tree in our yard and its wings were extended wide, showcasing the white stripe between its feathers.

“Where is she?” I asked the bird.

Its response was a simple caw.

“You’re her familiar. You know where she is,” my voice raised.

Now the crow didn’t make a noise. Its dark eyes watched me intently as I did the same to it. I could feel the anger beginning to boil over that stemmed from my fight with Lethia and an afternoon spent trying to look for her, only to be met with this fucking bird that wouldn’t stop staring at me.

“If you’re not going to be any fucking help, then leave me alone!” I yelled while throwing a rock at the bird, hitting its left wing.

It cried out in pain before fluttering out of the tree and off into a direction I didn’t bother to follow. There was only one way I could possibly talk with Lethia and figure out where she was.

I needed to go to sleep.

LETHIA

My eyes slowly opened, a feeling behind them causing a slight groan to fall from my lips. This was a new feeling; pain. I hadn't felt something like this since I fell to earth all those months ago.

So why could I feel my insides burning?

Groggily looking to my left, I took in the chains around my wrist with a curious pull of my brows. There were markings all along the cuffs and my eyes doubled when I recognized those markings.

Ancient markings. Ones that hadn't been seen in eons.

Ancient markings that were created for one thing and one thing only. I knew because it was me who created them.

Power binding markings. To help keep an angel trapped in imprisonment.

"No, no," I whispered, trying with all my strength to fight against my bindings.

It was futile. There was no way out.

When I looked to my right and saw the same bindings, I did my best to remain calm. There had to be a way out of this. I was the one who created these sigils, surely I could find a way out.

I thought back to what happened moments before my capture. The fight, the accusations, and the hurt look in his eyes.

"Noah," I breathed while closing my eyes, trying to dream walk into his mind.

Blocked.

Cursing under my breath, I knew the reason why I was blocked had to be because he wasn't asleep.

A sudden movement from my left made my head snap up and the rage festered low in my gut when those four familiar men stepped into view.

"You were always the ones sent to do his dirty work," I chuckled while rising to my knees.

Ceecee smiled wickedly. "He was tired of waiting. Maraxa clearly wasn't the right one for the job."

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "Right, you said she’s chained in hell. Was that before or after trying to get into bed with him?"

"No, malach. That place belongs to you."

I froze at hearing that name; it had been so fucking long since it was uttered in my presence.

Angel in Hebrew.

There was only one being that ever called me that.

No. No. No. It can't be.

The dark voice loomed in the shadows and I whirled my head to the right in time to see his face emerge from the darkness; those piercing blue eyes locking into my soul.

"Lucifer," I shuddered while pulling on the bindings, to no avail.

He cocked his head to the side, those eyes drinking in the sight of me before he bent low to his knees. Our faces were mere inches from each other and with one gaze down to those lips, memories of us lying together up in the Kingdom replayed in my mind on a loop.

I couldn’t figure out why he looked different from the images I had been seeing around town lately.

“I played with your mind, creating a different version of me. It was easy to control you, Lethia. Your mind has become weak since the fall,” Jinx said.

I snarled while rising to my feet, ready to attack, but was pulled back by my bindings.

“I should have known you were inside my mind, Jinx. This entire time, I thought it was Maraxa.”

He chuckled darkly while crossing his arms over his chest. “Please, she was weak before the fall. She couldn’t hold a candle to the things I’ve done.”

Lucifer held up a hand when I was about to have a witty remark.

“Enough!” His voice boomed throughout the small room I was held in.

The four men behind him slinked farther back into the darkness, like puppies who were just scolded for chewing something they shouldn’t have.

“Lucifer’s bitches,” I repeated my words from earlier with a smirk.

His hand gently cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at him in those blue depths.

"I haven't been called Lucifer in quite some time, not since the fall. Humans aren't too keen on it when you tell them your name is literally the devil. You can call me my mortal name."

I swallowed thickly. "Which is?"

The grin that spread to his face was a wicked one and made my heart drop with fear.

“You can call me Andy.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x fallenangel!oc #mercy noah sebastian

39 notes · View notes

traffic-was-a-b1tch · 2 days

Text

anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: SMUT, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP), oral (f rec), praise kink, mentions of cellulite and stretch mark insecurity, kissing, cursing, let me know if I missed any!

author’s note: heyyyy! sorry for the long wait on these chapters! I wanted to post them at the same time so y’all weren’t left on a cliffhanger lol. thank you so much for the love on this series! let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! as always, please feel free to give me feedback, requests, comments, etc. enjoy!!!

• • •

Chapter Seven:

jake kissed you feverishly. he had one hand on your waist and one on the back of your neck, pulling you close.

you could barely breathe. the buildup to this moment felt unbearable and now you needed to release it.

he let his hands roam, both finding your ass and squeezing roughly. he tapped your thighs, asking you to jump.

you did, wrapping your legs around his waist. you couldn’t pretend you didn’t feel him on your pussy, hard and long. it made your mouth water. walking blindly, he carried you to his bed and laid you down.

taking a break between kisses he managed, “you have to tell me if it’s too much. I don’t know if i’ll be able to stop myself.”

you nodded, pulling him close again.

he resisted, “no. I need words. come on, baby, use your words.”

it’s a good thing you weren’t standing. him calling you baby left your legs without feeling and your core pulsing.

“yes. I want it. please.” you choked out.

he grinned and climbed on top of you.

you kissed for so long that your lips were sore and red. still, every time he pulled away for a moment you wanted more. you couldn’t get enough of him.

you sat up and pulled up at the bottom of his shirt. he took it off in a swift motion, revealing his tan and toned chest.

your only thought was yes please.

feeling it was only fair, you took off yours too. because you were in bed only an hour and a half ago, you had no bra underneath. this didn’t occur to you until the cold air hit your nipples, hardening them. you leant back on your elbows, allowing him to take in the view.

his eyes locked on your breasts, mouth open in awe. he looked at you, asking permission. you nodded and he leaned towards them. he kissed one messily and massaged the other with his hand. you moaned loudly, the sensation taking over your mind.

he smiled at your reaction and trailed his kisses lower to reach the top of your pants. he inched them down and off, leaving you in your thong.

he breathed heavily, looking you up and down. you squirmed, needing more of him.

“do you even realize how gorgeous you are? goddamn.”

his words sent fireworks to your heart. you had stretch marks and cellulite; you didn’t necessarily think those parts of you were pretty at all. but you could tell his words were full of honesty, his voice passionate and sincere.

he couldn’t take it anymore, grasping your lace panties and dragging them down. you were left bare for him, cool air contrasting your warm mound. he took just a second to whisper, “fuck, so beautiful. wet just for me”, before he spread your legs and put them on his shoulders, burying his face in your pussy.

you gasped loudly and moaned. this was gonna take you down. “jake, please”, you begged.

it was strange, he was just as good as in your dream. the way he lapped at your folds and focused on your clit was making you see stars. he was taking care of you so good, letting you feel his tongue everywhere.

you grasped his hair, pulling lightly to show how good he was making you feel. he moaned into your pussy, making you quiver from the vibration. on of his hands met yours in his hair and encouraged you to pull more, while the other reached up to play with your nipple.

you were getting seriously close, your moans and gasps getting louder. the thread was so close to snapping, your legs started to close around his head.

he moved his hands to your knees, prying them apart and splaying you open for him to eat.

you lost it.

your high washed over you, feeling like warmth and fireworks. he kept going until you were shaking and pulling his head away to run from the overstimulation.

he sat up on his knees, wiping his mouth and smirking.

“you tasted better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

he climbed back over you, kissing you roughly. your hands wandered his body and you found your fingers running underneath his sweats’ waistband. he sighed in your mouth when you finally grabbed him. he was more long than thick, but you knew it would destroy you.

he tugged his bottoms down, releasing his dick. he lined himself up to your entrance but stopped.

“are you ok? fuck, please tell me if I can keep going.”

you nodded, “I need all of you. right now.”

he smiled, keeping eye contact as he pushed the tip of him inside. you gasped, already feeling incredible.

“so fucking tight, baby.” your pussy was weeping for more of him, trying to make him fit. he pushed more, “all the way in. fuck, yes.” his head fell back in ecstasy as he bottomed out inside you.

you were amazed by him. his size made you ache for more; to be completely demolished by him.

jake started moving slowly, in and out. slowly at first but then quickly losing control, grabbing your hips, and speeding up.

“you’ve been driving me fucking crazy ever since you moved in”, he admitted. “you’re so fucking perfect and I couldn’t stand you living right next to me. so close but so unattainable.”

he groaned as you squeezed around him, his words spurring you on.

“me too”, you whined. “you’re so goddamn aggravating, so cocky-“, you moaned as he pummeled deeper.

“cocky, huh?”, he teased. “I am very good with my cock.”

you tried your best to roll your eyes and give him attitude, but he was really living up to his words.

“you don’t believe me? let’s see, where’s that spot…” he slowed down his thrusts, aiming carefully.

you gasped loudly as he hit the most sensitive spot inside you.

he found it so easily.

“oh yeah, there it is. fuck, there we go, baby. feel me there.”

he was whispering dirty things, trying to hold on as long as he could. you, on the other hand, were crumbling by the second. he hit your spot over and over, faster and faster.

“please please please”, you panted, eyes shut tightly.

“come on, be my good girl and cum on my dick.”

your high hit you like a ton of bricks.

it felt like electricity, bolts of lightning striking you both. you shook, riding the wave of pleasure, your pussy gripping him like a vice. jake groaned, thrusts getting faster and sloppier.

“yes, that’s my good girl. so fucking good.” he panted, chasing his own high.

he came inside you, shuddering.

you were both fucked out, minds fuzzy and tired.

he pulled out after a minute of catching his breath, leaving towards the bathroom. before you even realized, he was back with a warm and damp cloth. he cleaned you up, then himself, then threw the rag in a laundry hamper.

jake climbed back into bed and you turned to face him. he smiled softly, his hand finding your face again, tracing it softly, and brushing your hair out of the way.

“so”, he began, “good girl, huh?”

you giggled and hid your face in his shoulder.

he returned the laughter and continued, “hey, don’t worry, baby. it’s hot.”

“you’re hot”, he added after a few beats.

you scoffed and smiled, turning over so your back was towards him. “shut up, I was just starting to come around to you.”

he pulled you in and spooned you, “well, after making you come twice, i’d say i’m off to a strong start.”

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

you slept in jake’s arms the rest of the night.

your phone woke you up, ringing on his nightstand. it was too early. you reached over and grabbed it, yawning. after pressing answer, you brought it up to your ear and said in a groggy voice, “hello?”

“hello! my name is lisa and i’m calling from Create Marketing Agency to invite you to an interview today. will 2 pm work?”

you jumped up, CMA?! your dream place to work in nashville? your first choice? they want to interview you today at 2?

“oh- yes ma’am, that sounds great to me.”

“amazing. we look forward to seeing you then. goodbye.” she hung up right before you squealed with joy.

this was the best. morning. ever.

• • •

hell yes.

tag list: @gvfpal @hollyco @piratejakesgf @sunandthemoontwinflames @kiszkas-canvas @jjwasneverhere @anythingforjtk

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #daniel wagner #danny wagner #danny gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut

36 notes · View notes

christinaur · 3 days

Text

So Idk if anyone is gonna see this but I’ll just write this Nina Zenik/Matthias Helvar writing prompt down so I don’t forget it. Maybe I’ll do something with it one day but probably not cause I wouldn’t be able to write stuff like this even if my life depended on it

If anyone wants to write this, pls tag me so I can see the results!!!

(Warning there are some spoilers for the books)

So, Matthias’ family does not die, there weren’t any Grisha that destroyed his hometown and he didn’t grow up being as hateful towards them, he just dislikes them because of folktales or something but it’s not as intense as in the books since he didn’t get shoved military propaganda down his throat.

One day his little sister discovers that she’s a Grisha and Matthias is like: Alright that’s my little sister, I lover her more than I hate the Grisha (it was somewhat like that with him and Nina, not quite but I think it’s understandable what I mean(?)). But since he knows that his sister won’t be safe in Fjerda, he decides to take her somewhere that’s safer for her: Ravka.

He travels with his sister and hears various tales about the Grisha. One of them being that they need to use their powers in order to be healthy so he decides that he has to take her to the little palace and let her be trained there, but he doesn’twant her to be a soldier because a) he’s worried and b) internalised misogyny.

And when they arrive at their destination they meet all the Grisha and Matthias’ little sister starts her training, Matthias stays so he can also look after there but is generally bored. Then he meets Nina. She wouldn’t have been taken captive if Matthias wasn’t with the other Fjerdans (if I remember correctly) or she just would have escaped in some way or another, idk.

In the beginning the two of them are like rivals, because of their different upbringings/cultures and stuff like that but eventually they fall in love and have each others backs.

And because Matthias wasn’t a Drüskelle he won’t be seen as a traitor and therefore he won’t be killed, so the two of them get their happy end and Nina and Matthias’ sister would team up to annoy him or something along those lines

…Yeah idk, do whatever you want with this

#matthias helvar #mathias helvar #nina zenik #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #nina x matthias #matthias x nina

22 notes · View notes

gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 24 hours

Text

Cursed

Author's note: Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow their Boy Cedric. :) The Brain Worms... Here's Jophiel's debut in Mermay.

Summary: Jophiel hates his wretched mutation, it causes him to be slower in the water, and faster in the air. He's glad to be a trained Psyker and Librarian to be able to hide his wings. It drains him far more to hide them on Ancient Terra. But he will. He has to.

Warnings:... Thoughts of self-harm. Mentions of past self harm. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Jophiel, like all first generation Primaris Space Marines had been taught on Mars by the Mechanicum and their First Born brothers of the Iron Hands and the occasional Imperial Fist. As a son of Sanguinius he'd been taught about the Schism that happened when Elder Brothers occasionally gained the Holy Wings of the Primarch of their Legion. No matter the chapter, the others would assume he was their Primarch Reborn and things would grow twisted, strange and then others would be called in and the perpetrators slain by the Righteous.

He shifts his shoulders a little uneasily as he remembers that as he closes his eyes and goes through his training by the Psykers First Born brothers as he assures himself the illusion that he's woven across his back hold true and to the gaze of all around him. He's honored, and anxious, to have been chosen to be a Blood Angel, it had been a decision that one of the Ultramarine Captains had handled, he and his squad would either have become a Blood Angel or a Lamenter, but the Ultramarine had decided that his squad would go to the First Founding Chapter. There is extra pressure for him and his brothers to perform well. He tries not to have his tail lash out in anxiety as he swims.

Part of him wishes that the Curse he'd gotten, that rotten mutation, had either had him culled, or had been cut off by the Mechanicum. For some reason they'd done neither. But he'd been taught the history of the Sons of Sanguinius, and what happened to those of them who'd gained the White Wings, how their brothers would be driven to a form of madness and how a schism would form and they'd nearly tear apart their chapter in a civil war. He would need to find a place to groom his curse and ensure that the wings- so heavy and sodden with water, wouldn't have feather's fall and be noticed by his brothers, Primaris and, most especially, First Born. He'd followed dutifully after his elder brothers and gone to where he had been assigned to work. His fellow Primaris Marines were relieved to see him.

As all known Psyker Primaris were taken from their original squads and taken to a different facility to be trained, not that their non-psyker brothers knew what happened to them. So he'd embraced his old squad and greeted them, glad that they had also survived their training as well. He ensures that his Illusion keeps them from feeling the brush of feathers. It's better if he doesn't allow other's to touch him, it's safer that way. He's a good, loyal, and dutiful. To be found with such a wretched Mutation would have his entire squad torn apart by the Inquisition for being Abominations. He's not. He's … he's not unholy and wrong. He's dutiful, he's loyal, and slowly he and his squad proves themselves to their First Born Brothers.

He understands why they can be so hard on them. After all, with the Red Thirst and Black Rage, they are on thin ice with the Inquisition and the other Chapters for being… Different and Odd. Anything more could spell their doom, and that is not something he wants to cause, that any of the Primaris Space Marines want to cause. He lags behind his brothers, telling them that he's spotted something and that he'll be back, he just wants to check on something. He's glad to be on planet, fewer eyes and ears to worry about, electronic and otherwise. He heads deeper into the water a bit. Looking around almost frantic and paranoid as he relaxes a little and unweaves the illusion around himself and sags a little, tired from the constant use of Psykery to hide his wings. He carefully grabs his left wing and starts to pluck out the lose feathers, with care, setting them into a pouch on his belt, once he's done preening those feathers, he lets go of that wing and then grabs his other wing, carefully preening and plucking out the other lose feathers on his right wing.

Putting the feathers into the pouch. He stretches his wings, they are so heavy, especially sodden with water, he's been teased by his brothers for being slow moving, and a bit clumsy, but it's not enough to be Irritating or Troublesome. Jophiel eyes his feathers as the urge to pluck out all the feathers, to try and cut the wings from his back is almost overwhelming. He shakes his head and closes his eyes. No- the scent of his blood would be noticeable and they'd fuss and shove him at an Apothecary to see where he's wounded. No. While he's tempted to do so, had done so back as an Aspirant in Training, he'd been very grateful that the Apothecary he'd been dragged before had been a Son of Dorn and not a fellow Son of Sanguinius. Cedric, he'd managed to convince that it had been a… training mishap and the wounds were already closing.

Cedric had pushed the issue, as all good Apothecaries did… and he'd less control of his Psykery and had accidentally shown his shameful Mutation. Then had begged Cedric not to tell anyone, that he's loyal and good and while he's… he's suboptimal, that he's… he could prove that despite being cursed with a mutation that he can be a good and loyal Primaris Space Marine. Cedric had promised not to tell anyone, provided he didn't over preen his wings, and if his… Mutation was hurt to come to him, if it was possible to, for helping to fix it. He'd agreed to the deal, and so far he's not had deal with such things. Having heard that Cedric became a Black Templar has… made that promise harder to keep. Still. He weaves the illusion back on his wings, which he keeps tucked against his back. He will do what he must to keep his shameful secret hidden.

Perhaps he should have gone to the Lamenters, for he's heard of how cursed that Chapter is. Not that he's ever going to say those words aloud, as then his brothers, first born and primaris alike would ask what he meant by that and he... he can't say why. He won't. Not with what it could cost him and his brothers. He doesn't want to, by the very cursed wings upon his back, drive them mad, and think he's ... he's not... he's a simple Son of Sangunius. Just that and nothing more.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #mermay #mermay 2024 #mermay 40k #oc: Jophiel

25 notes · View notes

sleepyfan-blog · 2 days

Text

Phantom

Author’s Note: Sirass part three! I hope you enjoy :D

First.

Previous.

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel@whorety-k

Warnings: none

Summary: Sirass and Pollux go to the afflicted reef to scout how many fellow Astartes they’ll need to destroy the burgeoning garden of rot. What they find surprises them.

“We’re going to have to burn all of the samples the humans took of the diseased wildlife and plants.” Pollux muttered, swimming back and forth in agitation as he waited impatiently for Sirass to finish gearing up.

“I know that, you’ve left instructions and warning for the blue stylus pushers to handle that, right?” Sirass snapped, rolling his eyes beneath his helmet as he continued to check over his gear, wanting to be sure that none of it had any flaws before they went diving into a territory defiled by Nurgle’s Worshippers. “We’ll need to check the machinery as well.”

“... But the Plague-bastard’s curses and afflictions only affect the living. Metals rust and decay but don’t fall sick.” The Imperial Fist spluttered, eyes going wide under his helmet.

“Clearly you’ve never had the dubious misfortune of having to deal with Glitchlings.” Sirass huffed, shaking his head a little “... When were you brought from?”

“Mid M-32, why?” Pollux asked “What the fuck is a Glitchling?”

“My bastard Primarch decided to cut a deal with the Plaguefather for… I’m not sure why… Some time in the past as I know it, after you were brought here. The ritual he used to seal the deal fused Machine Plague and Warp Bullshith together to create Glitchlings. They’re Nurglings, but for machines instead of living creatures. They delight in the corruption of machines and twisting them into horrific monstrosities.” Sirass explained “I heard about it from some of my Chaos brothers in passing and the knowledge stuck with me.”

“Oh fuck that entirely. They aren’t going to be thrilled about having to purge the data.” Pollux sighed. “And don’t call the Ultramarines stylus pushers. They do far more than that and you know it. They’ll likely handle the data as well, and explaining why fire and destruction is the only safe path forward.”

“... True enough.” Sirass sighed, reassured that his gear was in perfect working order. “I’m ready to go.”

“Finally! Remember, this is a scouting mission, as neither of us can deal with a full Rot Garden, we don’t have the kit to do so. There are Salamanders inbound, but it’s going to-” Pollux stated.

“It’s going to take them a few days to get here. Yeah, I know. This isn’t the first shit-awful mission I’ve been on, and I doubt it’ll be the last.” Sirass finished, cutting off the Imperial Fist. “We need to have a rough estimate of how many Death Guard are making this fucking thing, and whether or not they’ve managed to corrupt any humans into worshipping their shit-ass deamon-god. I remember the briefing protocols for something like this, I don’t need to be reminded. Let’s get going.”

Pollux grumbled under his breath, and Sirass pretended not to hear the bitchy bastard as they swum swiftly over the deceptively beautiful waters, diving in.

“... Wasn’t the garden bigger, the last time we were here?” Pollux asked Sirass over vox, sounding as perplexed as Sirass felt.

“It was. I helped with the last survey of the afflicted reef two days ago. Something’s changed… I could almost taste the Chaos in the water, but that’s faded somewhat too…” Sirass murmured, scanning the area more closely. “The densest bit of fuckery is this way. I haven’t seen any signs of Death Guard here today, what about on your side, Pollux?”

“No signs of Death Guard on this side of the Garden, either. Maybe they’re deeper in, or off on a hunt?” Pollux offered. “I… Suppose we should push further into the territory.” It went without saying that they should touch nothing in this cursed place unless they absolutely had to.

The signs of decay and illness were still very much present in the plant and animal life, but it wasn’t nearly as dire as it had been a couple of days ago. Some of the fish were actually moving at close to their normal speeds, doing their usual behaviors. The numbers of parasites in the waters had gone down according to Sirass’ scanners, and the amount of chaos taint had plummeted precipitously, now that he knew to look for it, knew what the signs were.

This was true even as the two mer cautiously swum deeper into the garden. Signs of healthy life were beginning to appear, and the dead were no longer crawling or moving in a parody of life. Sirass stilled completely as he reached the middle of the garden, eyes widening beneath his visor “What… Who?... Why?”

Before him was the crawling vine-rose things that marked the heart of a plague garden. It’s tendrils should be glowing and pulsing, trying to reach for anything that wasn’t tainted by Nurgle in order to consume. The center mass of the foul creation should be undulating and hard to look at without nausea and pain ripping through his body and mind.

Instead, the thorn-covered vines were a dull grey color. Lifeless and unmoving. The center mass looked like it had been ripped or slashed apart by something large and pissed off. Clearly someone else had killed the heart of the this Rot Garden, which was what helped to perpetuate Nurgle’s curses and diseases. They hadn’t completed the job, and if left unattended, the Plague Heart would come back to life and start causing problems if it wasn’t thoroughly torched in Promethium-based flames and torn out, roots and all.

But it was an excellent start.

“I have no idea who did this… I didn’t think there were many Astartes in this area, apart from the group who lives with the humans nearby. None of them reported in, attacking this and they really should have…” Pollux muttered to himself. “We should retreat from here. It may be dead for now, but it’s still dangerous… And the Death Guard could come back. They’ll get nasty as they’ll assume we did this.”

“Mh, let’s get going then.” Sirass agreed, nodding shortly. Agreeing with an Iron Fist felt very strange and vaguely wrong… But Pollux was correct in this instance. The two of them took turns flitting from cover to cover around the periphery of the slowly shrinking Garden of Rot for the four days it took for the Salamander Flamer squads to arrive. Not a single Death Guard, nor any cultists appeared in that time.

Once the Salamanders had arrived and began the task of purifying the area with flames and psykery, Sirass and Pollux left after being checked and cleared for corrosion. The Ultramarines attached to the humans’ ocean preservation group had indeed purged all of the Nurgle Shit from the area, including information and explained why.

Sirass’ human sprinted over to him as soon as he cleared the ocean water. You hesitated for a couple of moments asking “You’ve been through decontamination, right?”

“Yes, my love I have been. The area is being purged by experts.” He explains with a nod.

“Good… It’s going to be a lot of work to restore that area, but it’ll be worth it. I’m glad that… That you’re okay. The… The stories they told us about what those twisting-illnesses can do to a person were awful!” You shudder, running up to him and hugging him tightly.

Sirass smiles a little, holding you close. He nuzzles you lovingly as he takes off his helmet, attaching it to his belt and giving you several loving kisses all over your face “I apologize that you were frightened for and worried over me, love. But I am fine. If you’d like to thoroughly check me over once we get home, I won’t object~”

You blush at his tease but nod, going up on your tiptoes and giving him a loving kiss “Yes please.”

He grins as he scoops you up, swimming through the air towards your apartment.

#oc: sirass #oc: pollux #iron warrior #imperial fist #warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #Celestial Seas AU #cw smut #reader insert #adeptus astartes x reader insert #female reader

18 notes · View notes

foxgloveprincess · 2 days

Text

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader, Lance Tucker x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: You’ve never had a vacation quite like this.

Word Count: 2,996

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Stalking, Fear/Paranoia, Horror Elements, Unreliable Narrator, Yandere Vibes, Kidnapping, Bondage, Drugging, Smut (Vaginal Penetration, Fingering, Car Sex, Coitus Interruptus), Pet Names (baby, li’l birdie, pidge, etc). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: It’s time. Let me know what you think!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

Trees pass outside the window. Lance holds your hand in his lap. You breathe deeply. A full week. Just the two of you. Lance’s cabin in the woods. Despite how your stomach flips, you’re excited. The first time really alone with him. Possibilities endless.

“Just another hour now,” he says with a squeeze to your hand. “How’re you doing? You need to stretch your legs?”

“I’m alright,” you say softly. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” he says with a kiss to your knuckles.

Your sigh and look over, a contented smile quirking his lips. Gaze tracing his profile, you can’t get enough. The strong set of his jaw and the crinkle around his eyes. Even the cute little bump on his right ear. It’s not even just his dashing good looks either.

The warm fuzzy feeling whenever he puts his attention on you plenty of reason to keep you enamored. Or the way he takes care of you, thinks of you, and appreciates the things you do in return. He’s picture perfect. You could really fall for him.

“Oh,” you comment, reminding yourself in your reminiscing, “I thought you might want your electric shaver, so I packed it with a few extra batteries charged.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” He chuckles. “I wasn’t sure I wanted it.” His fingers release yours to caress the sides of his face. “But even now the stubble’s getting a little itchy.”

You smile and turn your attention back to the window. With only an hour left, you figure the time will pass quickly. It’s then you feel Lance’s fingers tickling along your thigh. You readjust in your seat, hands falling to your lap and grasping at the fabric of your skirt.

“What are you doing?” You ask in a whisper.

“Making the time fly.”

His hand disappears under your skirt. You raise yourself from your seat, wary of his intentions.

“But the road—”

“We’ll be fine, cupcake, now let Daddy play with his pretty pussy.”

You withhold the cringe and settle back in your seat, your legs spreading on the leather. He hums deep in his throat. Lips pressed together, you try to swallow down the whine when his fingertips make contact with the fabric of your panties.

The trees keep passing outside your window, stretching for miles in every direction. As the only car on the road, Lance lets his foot off the accelerator, letting more of his attention fall to you.

Your pulse thrums and flits through your veins. An excited trill that spikes higher and higher the more Lance teases.

His fingers slip between your silky panties and your cunt, already sensitive with your arousal. He toys with your lower lips, massaging them and tracing their curves. His nails gently scratch over the tops of your thighs. You shiver. The anticipation kills you.

Your lips part, breathy pleas of, “Lance, I need more. Want to feel you so bad,” falling out.

Your boyfriend simply chuckles and keeps up his game until you drip. Coat his fingers, fill the car with the scent of sex, and squelch around his playful prodding. Only then does he show mercy. Circling his thumb around your aching nub and angling his fingers to plunge into your pussy.

You grip his forearm, head tilting back in relief. Filled as much as he can. He breathes deep and shifts in his seat. Track pants tented with his dick.

As worked up as you are, you’re unsurprised when your orgasm crashes over you. Sending you spiraling through bliss and clenching on his fingers. You grip at the handle above the passenger window and roll your hips with the movement of his wrist.

“That’s it,” Lance coos, “show me everything, baby.”

Your eyes close a moment to gather your wits, a satisfied hum droning in your throat. His fingers retreat, petting over your pussy one last time. When you turn to your boyfriend, a cocky smirk plasters on his face. Looking at each mirror and out the windows, he wipes his fingers on his track pants while pulling off to the side of the road.

“Are we here?” you ask, glancing around with him.

“No,” he replies, throwing the car in park and nodding toward the backseat. “But I can’t keep driving like this.” He gestures to his pants and a thrill zips through your veins. “So I’m gonna fuck you back there until your legs give out.”

“Won’t someone see?” Your voice drops low, excitement laced through the words but still wary.

“No one will see you,” Lance promises, taking your hand in his. “Don’t you trust me?”

You inhale a shaky breath and nod.

It’s a squeeze, but you climb to the backseat of the sedan. Lance unbuckles and gets out of the driver’s side. Quick fingers discard your panties on the floor and you tug your skirt up and out of the way.

Lance opens the back door and sighs. “That’s what I love to see.”

He leans in for a kiss, pinning you to the seat and closing the door behind him. It’s a cramped space, but you make do. His hips slotting to yours and your packed pillows making just enough cushion for your back and head.

He stretches you around his cock and rocks his hips. Thrusting into you at a steady pace. Your face tucks into the side of his neck, breaths panted against his skin and fingers combing through his hair.

“Lance,” you moan, legs locking around his hips. Your eyes squeeze shut, finding that glimmer of another orgasm right within reach. “I’m gonna cum.”

He grunts and jolts you as his hips clap faster against your own. The thrill of breaking the rules, of your naughty tryst, adds to the steamy grit of the moment. You reach between your bodies with a free hand and circle your clit, cumming with a cry and clutching Lance closer to you.

His lips slant against yours, swallowing your sounds, tongues tangling. His hips stutter so close to his own release. He only stops with a knock on the car window.

“Shit,” he growls, pulling away from your lips.

Heat floods your cheeks. Heart skipping a beat, you’re too scared to look out the window behind his back.

“You folks alright in there?” a deep voice asks.

Under your breath, you chant a succession of, “oh no, oh no, oh no.”

Breathing heavily, Lance adjusts your skirt and calls out, “We’re fine, fuck off.”

“You sure? It looks like your tire’s low on air and—”

“I said, fuck off,” your boyfriend repeats with a little more bark in his tone. He glares over his shoulder, slipping out of you and pulling his pants back up.

You grimace and take a peek. The man stands outside the window. A smirk tilts his lips, his hands shoved in his pocket. He wears large glasses in retro frames. Long hair pulled away from his face but falling out of its tie. He meets your eye through the glass and winks. Nausea pools in your belly.

Your hands grip at Lance’s biceps, shaking now not from pleasure but an instinctual terror. That man is dangerous.

He shrugs after the briefest moment and says, “Well then, you best get on your way before something does happen.” He backs away and turns from your car.

Your boyfriend blows a frustrated breath between his teeth. You smooth your skirt over your thighs and breathe deep, keeping the panic at bay.

“Oh my god,” you whisper in the quiet of the car.

“Hey,” Lance says cupping your cheeks, “he didn’t see anything. We’re fine.”

You nod and wait for him to get up, freeing you to step out of the backseat and take a lungful of fresh air. The stickiness cooling on your upper thighs. You shiver and glance to where the man stood. Relief yet to settle.

Thwack.

You keep an ear out for every chop. Lance outside preparing some firewood. Wrapping the blanket more fully around your shoulders, you descend the stairs. Assured of his presence.

When the two of you had arrived, you were impressed by the cozy structure. Some running water, electricity, but no heating or cooling. With the temperature dipping, Lance insisted on getting a fire started. But that required a trip out to the shed and some time spent with an axe. If you listen closely, you can hear his labored breathing and his grunts.

And you’re listening closely. Ever since that man knocked on the car window, you’ve felt off. Something amiss, crackling in the air around you, making your hair stand on end.

You’re halfway down the steps when you hear a dull thudding sound in the kitchen. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you jump, slipping down three of the steps. A yelp flies from your mouth, hand clutching to the railing with a death grip.

Frozen in time, you try to catch your breath. You’ll drive yourself batty like this. You breathe a moment, listening for the thwack of Lance’s axe and sit on one of the steps. Your phone buzzes in your pocket again. The reminder notification that you have a text.

Sighing, you pull the device out and marvel at the reception. Lance did mention something about a cell tower nearby. The screen shines up at you. An unknown number attached to the text—and a picture.

Your finger swipes before you can comprehend what’s happening.

Grandad said to say that he doesn’t miss you!

The picture shows Harlan sitting in his personal study, a game board between him and his grandson. Bewilderment doesn’t really begin to cover how you’re feeling. Unsure why he’s contacting you. For one, he promised not to. For two, what a strange thing to say. For three…Your phone blips with a new text just received. The next message from Ransom filling in under the photo.

What he actually said was to enjoy your week off, but asked where you kept your notes on the stonefish?

Brow pinched in both confusion and concentration, you type out explicit instructions where you filed the information in your desk and what page of your notes might prove most useful.

A shadow dances in the corner of your eye as you press Send. Your head whips up to catch the figure, but find no one. You clutch your phone in a tight grip and stand back up.

You walk to the bottom of the stairs and turn to the kitchen. Peeking out the window, you expect to see Lance, hear him still hard at work. All you see are trees and the afternoon sun casting shadows across the landscape as it dips closer to the horizon.

Perhaps he’s building the fire now? You glance over your shoulder toward the living room. But he’s not there either.

Fear grips your body like an ice cold hand. Something’s definitely wrong.

A white scrap of paper sits on the kitchen counter, illuminated by an overhead light. You walk over, eyes darting about. A creak upstairs makes you scamper to the note and grab it.

“Lance?” You call up, hoping for a response from your boyfriend. Praying for one.

Your hand trembles as you fold open the paper and read the messy scrawl.

I’ll see you soon, pidge.

You swallow down a scream. Darting into the living room, you hide behind the couch. The scent of cigarette smoke clings to the cushions. Your nose scrunches in disgust. Neither you nor your boyfriend smoke. A hand raises to block out the scent.

A scratch skitters next to your ear. You stifle your shriek and whip your head around. Nothing. Your heart pounds. You’re hearing things. This is bad—this is bad.

The back door creaks open. You look over, hopeful of seeing Lance, but only make out a large, dark figure looming in the doorway.

“Lance, is that you?” you ask, voice shaking in terror.

No response. You tuck your head back behind the couch and crawl your way around it. Closer and closer to the front door. Maybe then you’ll be able to get to the car and drive. Call Lance in the safety of those four metal doors.

You make it around the arm and peek behind the back toward front door. A clear shot if you can hurry fast enough. The car keys just on the side table next to it. Casting a glance toward the back door, still wide open, the figure gone. Phantom fingers creep up the back of your neck. You swallow another shriek and bolt.

Hand wrapped around the doorknob, you struggle to actually turn it. Through your desperation, though, it finally swings open. You grab the keys and race out. Fresh air filling your lungs and spurring you faster.

Down the steps and feet away from the car, you fold in half. Over the steel band of an arm around your waist. The punch of air out of your lungs refills as you prepare to scream.

A damp cloth presses over your nose and mouth before you can even try.

Your head pounds. Like someone put a too-tight cap over your skull. Pressure behind your eyes threatens to make them pop, but you open them.

The world expands around you. Four posters to your bed, wood stained dark. Gauzy fabric draped across the frame. Wide open space with an artful rug, a black leather chair, an ottoman. The walls covered in art, arranged just so. Heavy velvet curtains hang over frosted windows. A chandelier dazzles from the center of the ceiling.

You swallow hard. You’ll admit it’s nice, design-wise. The duvet covering your body clutched tight in your fists. Panic seizes your limbs, unable to move. Even as your heart jackrabbits and tells you to gogogo.

Sweat sticks under your arms and gathers on your palms. You throw off the cover. The bite of the cold room prickles along your skin. Still dressed like you were before, at least. Though that means you’re still missing underwear. Lost somewhere behind Lance’s back seat.

One more glance around the room and you’re ready to investigate. All alone with no one lurking anywhere, you gather your wits and stand. Your left leg falls heavy to the floor. Weight following the movement down. A thick chain. Banded around your ankle. Tethered to the giant bed frame.

The length of it takes you to the closed door across your bed. Even stretching as far as you can, though, you can’t get your fingertips to reach the handle.

Not that it’s necessary when the door swings open and misses your nose by a hair. You jolt away and scurry backward, eyes and mind unable to connect the dots between them. The man before you and the circumstance in which you find yourself.

“Hey, pidge,” he says and even then you still can’t believe what’s happening. Convinced your mind must be playing a trick on you.

Ransom undoes the belt of the fancy silk robe covering him. It drops and reveals naked skin. Not a stitch of clothing left on his body once the robe puddles at his feet. His cock stands hard and bobs in the air. You swallow and look away. The flood of memories from your transaction overwhelming—enticing. Tears dot your eyes.

“I can’t wait to feel your pussy around me again.” He sighs and then groans. In the corner of your eye, you catch the movement of his hand stroking his cock. “Been waiting too fucking long.”

You whimper and back away. Hoping maybe once you get to the bed things will make sense.

Ransom follows you step for step until you fall back onto the cushion. He pins you to the covers and smirks.

“You like it?” he asks, nodding around to the surrounding room. “Once I had you, I knew you’d fit right in.” His nose traces along your throat. A shiver follows it and darts down your spine.

“What did you do?” you whisper, uncertain whether you want to hear the answer.

“I took what’s mine,” Ransom replies. His hands wander down your body, pinching at your hips before cupping your cunt in his hand. “I can’t stop thinking about this.” He squeezes gently. “About you.” He dips his head to steal a kiss. Groans against your lips. “Now there’s no more distractions for either of us.”

“But Lance—”

“Will get what’s coming to him. Thinking he could take what belongs to me.” Ransom chuckles. “Did he make you cum, pidge? Make you coo so pretty, like I did?”

You press your lips together. Refusing to respond to his crass comment and still trying to piece together what happened in the cabin.

“You texted me from Harlan’s study,” you murmur. Ransom nods in response and no longer waits for you. His mouth and hands busy reacquainting themselves with your body. “So you had a friend kidnap me?”

“Is it kidnapping if you’re mine?”

The questions hits you like a punch to the gut. Winds you as you puff out a breath. Letting his words hang in the air a moment, you shift as he sighs. Nails grazing along your hip. Your legs tremble and the chain jangles in the background. You shift and stretch, his touch plucking at your desire, coaxing it awake. Already you feel arousal pooling in your belly and making your lower lips slick. Recollection your enemy as you remember the delicious stretch of his cock, the way he took pains to ruin you completely. And cannot help but anticipate, ache for it again.

“If the door’s locked,” you finally ask, blinking away the tempting haze of lust. “Why do you have me chained to the bed?”He places a kiss right below your ear before meeting your eye. “I thought you liked to be tied up, li’l birdie,” he says with a sharp smile, descending down your body to reclaim his place between your thighs.