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alastor-x-reader-stories · 13 days

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To Rate a Hug - part 1 of ?

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, Humor, Antics, Fluff, Hugs, Reader is cat-like, shenanigans, Lucifer is a dork, Alastor is a petty bitch

part 2

“Who, in this room, is the most huggable?” Charlie asked, grinning ear-to-ear.

Your ears twitched, tilting your head at the question. “What?”

The residents of the Hotel were playing Truth and Dare as one of the redemption activities. Something about it being a good thing to be true to yourself and others? It was originally ‘Truth or Truth’ but Angel Dust complained saying if they had to play this game at all there should be a dare option.

You, being the hotel’s very own scaredy cat, only went with the Truth option. Charlie grinned, vibrating in her seat.

“Who’s the most huggable person in the room?”

You blinked. “Specify.”

“Huh?” The princess said “Um. I. What?”

“Do you mean who do I think would physically give the best hugs, who do I want to hug personally, or like, who I think is most likely to give me a hug?” You said, rocking a bit in your seat.

“Oh! All three?”

“Ok. Um.”

You scanned the room. Charlie was vibrating with excitement, waiting for your answer. Vaggie was watching Charlie more than you, a soft smile on her face. Angel Dust struck a pose, kicking one leg up in the air and shooting you a wink. Husk was pretending he wasn’t there. Nifty wasn’t paying much attention either, flitting about dusting and the like. Alastor hadn’t bothered looking up from the book he was reading and Lucifer… was staring right at you, vibrating much the same way his daughter was.

The Morningstars were so cute.

“Um. Okay, no judgement, though?” You said, grinning sheepishly.

“Of course, of course!” Charlie said with a smile, waving away your concerns.

“Wouldn’t be judgin’ ya unless ya told us who you wanted to f-“

Vaggie whapped Angel Dust over the head with a rolled up newpaper before he could finish that sentence. She sat back down and smiled.

“Go ahead, hun.”

“Okay…” you hummed, pretending you never thought about this before in your entire after life. You had. But that’s an embarrassing thing to mention so you pretended you didn’t.

“I’d say who seemed the best at hugs, physically, would be Husk.”

The cat’s ears twitched.

“Who I’d want to hug personally would be Alastor.”

One ear flicked to point in your direction.

“And I think Charlie’s most likely to hug me.”

“You’re right!” Charlie grinned, squishing you into a hug immediately and just as quickly letting you go. “I do love to give hugs!”

You chuckled, ears laying down bashfully. “Yeah, um, okay. Who’s next?

“You spin it, toots.” Angel said, shoving the bottle from Charlie to you. The group was using an empty wine bottle as the decider, and now it was your turn. You spun it and it landed on Lucifer.

“All right, Luci. Truth or dare?”

He jumped a bit like he forgot he was participating. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side and thought the floor was a lot more interesting. “Er. Truth?”

You hummed, tapping your claw against your chin. “Ooookaayyyy… Um. What’s your favorite color of the alphabet?”

“Well-“ He stopped mid-word, blinking one eye at a time. “….What.”

You cackled, unable to help yourself. “Well?”

“Answer the question, yer majesty!” Angel chimed in.

“Yeah, Dad!” Charlie said.

“But- What- how do I- I dunno, the number 5???”

You nodded sagely. “Good answer.”

“’Eh, I prefer-“

“Angel, I swear to heaven and back if you say 69 I’m going to rip your limbs off.” Vaggie growled.

The spider shrugged “I was gonna say 420, actually.”

“Ha! Weed.” You grinned. You’ve never actually touched the stuff because it smelled gross but it was fun to joke about.

Lucifer sighed and gave the bottle a spin. It landed on Husk.

“Right, Bar Cat, Truth or Dare?”

“I have a name, your majesty.” Husk snorted. “And. Dare.”

Lucifer grinned “Hee hee hee, okay. I dare you to… make me a drink!”

Husk rolled his eyes. “Coming right up.” He got up and left, then returned with a drink he passed to the king and sat himself back down, giving the bottle a lazy spin.

The old cat was really good at the art of misdirection. So if he carefully stopped the bottle with the very edge of his tail no one would notice. Except Alastor. But he didn’t mention anything because he wanted to see where this would go.

After all, he had it land on you.

You sighed, rocking a bit in your seat. “Truth.”

“Not even gonna consider a dare?” Angel said with a huff. “Kinda boring.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He flipped you off. Life continued.

Husk sighed, leaning against his hand and humming as though he didn’t already know his question. “Ok. I guess… Why would I be the ‘best at hugs’?”

You sunk a bit in your seat. “Um. Well. Your fur looks soft…”

Alastor’s ear twitched again.

“…and you got those big ol’ wings.”

Lucifer found the wall interesting all of a sudden.

“…and you just kind of look like a care bear.”

Angel Dust burst out laughing. Husk’s ears went back, eye twitching. “Ex-fucking-scuse me?”

You ducked your head “I didn’t- I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything bad- I-“

Husk deflated, rubbing his face. “Right, right, m’bad.” He still looked irritated but managed to get his voice to sound indifferent. “…Why do I look like a care bear?”

“The hearts.” You said meekly, pointing a claw at him. “You have hearts in your ears, little hearts for your eyebrows, and your nose is shaped like a heart, and you have hearts on your hands.”

“…You know, they’re right.” Vaggie said, glancing over at the old cat. Charlie cooed.

“I never noticed that before!”

“I did!” Nifty chirped, scuttling on top of the table. “I did I did I did!” Her eye narrowed, pointing her feather dust threateningly at all those in attendance “But no one listened to Nifty.”

“Who’s Nifty?” You said with a shit-eating grin. The small little goober’s eye widened, surprise and wonder crossing her face.

“I’M Nifty….” She hummed, tapping at her chin.

You nodded sagely. “You are Nifty.”

…

“All right I’m done.” Husk said, pushing out of his seat and leaving. Charlie sighed. She thanked everyone for showing up and participating and the various people in attendance left for their own rooms.

You scurried off as soon as Charlie said you were done for the day and curled into your bed happily. Sweet, sweet privacy. Away from prying eyes-

“Hello there!”

You screeched, fur floofing up to the point you just looked like a puffball with eyes.

Alastor cackled. You crawled under the blankets to hide from him. Alastor was under the blankets with you, grinning. You flailed again, scrambling off the bed and darting underneath it. Guess where the fuck Alastor was.

Several more repeats of that later and you were laying face-down into your pillows with the Radio Demon standing over you.

“Well, that was amusing!” He said.

“I’m glad you had fun.” You muttered.

“I did, I did! Now, a question.”

“And now, an answer.”

“Very good. So. Earlier you had said that you wanted to hug me?” He leaned further towards you, quirking an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To annoy you, mainly.” You said flatly. Static surged. You flinched, ducking back under the blankets. There he was again, sitting on your bed with his legs crossed, eyes glowing brighter in the makeshift blanket fort. He had his hand on your back before you could dart again, keeping you in place.

It wasn’t forceful, though. You could sliver around if you wanted. What was awkward was how close he was to you now. Eyes shining in the dark, breath warm against your face, the smell of his cologne in your nose. And those fluffy ears squished slightly by the blanket.

The Radio Demon had no business looking so huggable.

“Now was that really the reason?” He said, eyes lidded. “From your reaction to our close proximity, I feel as though you were simply teasing me.”

“Partially.” You said. “I mean, yeah, it’d be partially to annoy you. But overall you just kind of seem really…huggable.”

He rose an eyebrow “Huggable?”

“Yeah?” You snorted “That’s what the question was about?”

Alastor leaned closer, voice dropping an octave as he purred “Absolutely nothing else you were thinking about?”

“Well now I’m thinking you need a lozenge.” You said, pushing him back “Voice sounded a bit hoarse there. And before you ask, no, I’m not that stupid and I know what you’re implying. But really that’s it. You just seem really huggable.”

“How so?” He asked, voice thankfully back to normal.

Alastor had just been messing with you the moment prior. Usually those kinds of comments lead to certain kind of things. Though he would never partake in those ‘things’, the reactions of those who found him attractive were very entertaining. This just confused him.

You shrugged. “I dunno? I just look at you and go ‘mmm yep that’s a huggable person alright’. I mean. Assuming you didn’t hurt or kill me.”

“Oh, I might.” Alastor grinned. Your flight-or-flight instincts kicked in and you jerked back, being stopped again by Alastor’s hand. The instinct kicked in a second time when your face was suddenly pressed against his chest, a deep chuckle reverberating through him. “I jest, my dear.”

“You’re the deer.” You said. He chuckled again. “So. Uh. Is this permission to hug you…?”

“Ha! No.” He shadow-traveled out from the blanket fort and the thing crashed down on you. You reacted to this startling by running straight off the bed into the wall. Alastor’s cackle echoed in your ears as you de-tangled yourself from your blankets. You shot him a peeved look before gathering up your bedding and making yourself comfortable again. Alastor was gone by the time you were settled and you rolled your eyes and decided to forget about that encounter.

However life decided you weren’t done with the day yet. Someone knocked on the door. You groaned, melodramatically opening the door up.

“Uh? Bad time?” Lucifer said with a lopsided grin.

“Oh? Nah, I’m just being silly.” You said with a shrug. “What’ s up?”

“Uh. Well.” Lucifer said, rubbing at the back of his neck “You know, earlier, when you were saying Husk was the most huggable person ‘cause of the wings and stuff? I mean. I have wings.” He materialized his wings and spread them for emphasis. “And. Uh. So. I guess I’m wondering why I‘m not huggable….?” He ducked his head down, grin wobbly as more of his face turned red.

You blinked.

“Um. Sorry?”

Lucifer’s grin dropped entirely and he started flailing his arm around “No no no! You don’t have anything to apologize for! I’m sorry- I! Fuck I’m bad at this.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. You tilted your head, confusion beginning to cross into concern territory.

“Um-“

Lucifer disappeared into a cloud of sparkles only to immediately reappear right next to you.

“My apologies for my silly doppleganger.” He said, checking his nails nonchalantly. “In anycase, I have an important question for you.”

You snorted, crossing your arms “Ah, yes. Your doppleganger. Who is not you.”

Lucifer waved you off “Most certainly not, I am a superb mentlegan- Ah, FUCK!”

Lucifer poofed into sparkles again and reappeared on your opposite side. He dusted his shirt off “Whoops, there was another one of those imposters of mine. Sorry about that.”

You covered your mouth, trying to hide your laugh. “Yeah. There seems to be a lot of those right now.”

“Indeed.” He said, checking his nails. “Can’t blame them for wanting to pretend to be the King of Hell.”

“I dunno.” You said with a hum “I’ve heard rumors the King of Hell is kind of a huge dork.”

“Ah, yes- wait really?”

You laughed. He chuckled a bit, fidgeting with his sleeves. “Uh, yeah. My antics aside. Uh. Can I ask a question?”

“Sure. I see no reason why not.” You said with a shrug.

“Um. So. How would you rate my huggable-ness?” He said, grin snaking back up on his face. You smiled at him.

“May I get a sample for study?”

Lucifer’s wings twitched “Oh-Oh! Yeah! Sure!”

You chuckled and hugged him. He went tense for a moment, stock-still. Then the King of all of Hell practically melted into you, arms wrapping around you and squeezing tightly. Wings gently curled around you both. Soft and warm.

Overall, very solid hug. Only issue is you had to lean down a bit to do so.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #allright i'm a luci simp what do ya want from me #humor #fluff

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cherryslyce · 1 year

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Unearthed | Regulus Black

Synopsis: You felt your world turn upside down at the revelation that your husband was a wizard, and you get a sense of deja vu when three teenagers appear on your doorstep seeking him out about a locket.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Muggle!Reader

Notes: Not canon-compliant! Word Count: 3.3k

The warbling of sparrows stir from the swaying trees and into your open window, bristles of morning wind brushing against your night clothes. You stare intently at the stove to your side, back pressed against your kitchen island as you mentally count. The glistening finish of your sage-colored tea kettle shone at you as you pace forward to remove the instrument off the flame.

Regulus was still asleep and the last thing you needed was to interrupt his rest because you wanted a cup of tea. As you steadily pour the water into your mug, your mind spirals into a wave of nostalgia.

It had been nearly two decades now since the man stumbled into your life with proper-fitted clothes and a closet of skeletons. You hadn’t met Regulus by any conventional means, having found him stumbling around blindly in front of your house, clutching at his head. You remember that it took a few days for the boy to wake after that night, his lithe figure draped across your couch as the sun rose and set. Those days of waiting felt like centuries now that you thought about it. You had been springing back and forth, debating on running over to the closest town for a doctor, but luckily, the boy woke just as your resolve hardened.

The first thing you had done when Regulus managed to sit up in your living space was offer him a cup of tea, trying to give yourself time to formulate questions as he steadied himself with reality again. He had informed you that night that he had been mugged, and had escaped into the fields within an inch of his consciousness. You had known that he was lying, recognizing that no one was even within a mile radius to do such a thing to him, but you somehow grew to care for him despite your suspicions. After many months of coexisting in your home, with Regulus taking on a good heft of the house chores, he had opened up to you about his family and home life.

You both sat staring into the streaks of flames stirring in your fireplace, the room gradually becoming enveloped in a blanket of grey as the sun sank further along the horizon.

“My parents were not good people.” Regulus murmured into the darkness, eyes trained on the pillars of heaty orange lapping at the blocks of wood and bark.

You gulp and nod along, “Dead like mine, too?”

“Dead to me,” Regulus supplied, hand reaching up to push his curls back as he continued, “I was not pulling your leg when I told you I had been mugged that night. My parents… they stripped me of my freedom and choices. There wasn’t a day that passed by where I could pinpoint my true aspirations or future. Not a day where I could lift the veil that disillusioned me since birth.”

Your lips slant down at the abrupt confession, and you could feel your fingers itching to rest on his hand for comfort. Heaving in a tense breath, you bite the inside of your cheek as you let your curiosity bleed through, “And the rest of your family?”

“The same, but my Uncle Alphie, he was different,” Regulus hesitates for a few moments, and you see his face darken, “so was my older brother.”

Another year after that, he finally cleared up a majority of your suspicions by demonstrating his magic. You went to bed in denial for a week, unable to maintain eye contact with him the whole while as you felt your world flip inside out. Once the reality sank in, you had demanded answers about the secret society that he fled from, trying to wrap your head around the influx of information.

“So… magic.” You breathe out, eyes flying around the perimeter of your kitchen as you lean back against the faded wooden counter.

Regulus allows himself a small small before he drops his gaze down towards his dinner plate, “Yes, magic.”

“Tell me more.” Your tone splintered into brusqueness, leaving no room for Regulus to dodge away.

Regulus, to his credit, seems hardly perturbed by your request. Nodding jerkily, he takes a sip of water before motioning for you to sit across from him, “What would you like to know?”

“Everything. Start from the beginning.” Your words are coated in anticipation, eyes glittering brightly as your mouth sets into a firm line.

Laughter bubbles in Regulus’ throat and he shoots you an indecipherable grin, “As you wish.”

It was a slow process of acceptance, one convoluted with your developing feelings for the boy, eyes no longer seeing a stumbling, comatose boy, but a dependable and bright partner—a life partner.

You both stewed in silent pining and agony for a few more months before the tension boiled and tipped over the precipice one night with a silent kiss by the fireside. As your relationship continued to bloom, you both decided to move toward the city with the last of your savings.

“Are you certain?” Regulus whispers against your lips, eyes trailing across the plane of your face.

You nod and bring a hand to thread through his hair, “I have the money. Besides, a change of scenery would be nice.”

Regulus hums and catches your lips in a swift kiss, bringing his arms to wrap around your figure.

Once you both edge back to breath, he gives you a boyish grin before musing, “Thank you.”

“Good morning, love.” A groggy voice cuts through the air as you squeeze your tea bag against the side of your cup with a spoon.

Swiveling your head over your shoulder, your mouth tugs upwards as you take in Regulus’ disheveled appearance, “Hello, dear. You’re up early today.”

Regulus draws his arms around your waist before kissing your temple as he hums, “Couldn’t sleep without you.”

You huff out a laugh before dropping a hand down to pat his arm, “You don’t have work today, right?” Your eyes drop down to your mug as your head flits through several thoughts about Regulus’ work duties, pleased that the company was flexible, yet you still vied for more.

“Yeah, got the day off,” he murmurs, burying his face into your shoulder, “how should we spend it?”

“The new bookstore around the corner?” You hum as you sip on your tea, noting that the brew of jasmine was much more potent than usual.

Regulus shifts from behind you and maneuvers his chin over your shoulder, “Sounds like a plan. Which reminds me, I should get our bookcase built today, too.”

“Lots to do.” You murmur absentmindedly, not bothered by the fact that Regulus was now inching to take a sip of your tea.

He takes a small mouthful of the cooling beverage before brushing his lips against your cheek, “We have all the time in the world, love.”

“That we do.”

The day seems to speed by in a blur, shrouded with an atmosphere of serenity and bright clouds. Your walk with Regulus through the idyllic streets is bundled with small lingering touches and peaceful silence. As you drift through the bookstore with your husband, you find yourself suppressing a smile as Regulus opts to carry the growing collection between you both, not a peep of complaint slipping past his lips as the sea of pages lengthen in height.

He had always been good to you in that way, and at first you had chalked it up to him repaying you for providing sanctuary, but you soon learned that such manners were practically instilled in his bones.

As you both trail towards the check-out line, an idea strikes you and causes you to hum audibly. Regulus peers over at you with an inquisitive gaze, curiosity barred by the need to shuffle forward in line.

“Dear, we should invite Severus over for dinner.” You mutter in hopefulness, feeling a familiar mawkish pang bud in your chest. Regulus maintained few ties to his life before you, but Severus had been a near constant presence in your life ever since you encouraged him to invite someone to your wedding. You had initially been nonplussed by the doleful man, aware of the turmoil and despair that practically radiated off of him, but you grew to care for him nonetheless.

“We have to build our bookshelf, no?” Regulus hums with consideration, eyes steeling as he notices a fussing customer holding up the line.

You wave him off and lift a finger to run along the spines of books in his arms, “Severus can help us if anything. It’s good to get things done without certain abilities every once in a while.”

Regulus’ lips flicker into a minute grin as he nods, “I’ll send for him when we return home, but he did say he would be rather occupied for a while last time we corresponded.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought, a tidal wave of unease washing over you, “I hope everything is alright.”

“Severus is quite capable, he’ll be okay.”

The lingering traces of worry that pervade your mind fail to dissipate as you walk hand-in-hand with Regulus, the both of you intent on heading home as quickly as possible as streaks of grey clouds roll across the sky.

A sense of foreboding coils around your nerves as you tread closer towards your destination, head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeate into the air. Regulus seems to share your feelings of inexplicable unease as you feel his grip tighten on your hand.

As you both round the corner of the street and near your front door, you feel yourself stop in your tracks as three figures come into view.

“Reg?” Your words are barely above a whisper as confusion ousts your previous apprehension.

Regulus mirrors your feelings, and his perplexity is palpable as he slowly inches forward, “Just some kids, I think.”

You both mutely compose yourselves as your pacing resumes. As your footsteps echo into earshot for the trio, they all spin around with wide eyes. Your eyes drop down towards the redheaded boy’s hand, gaze narrowing as you discern the outlines of a wand.

Regulus seems to draw the same conclusions and he steps in front of you as his eyebrows furrowed together, “Hello, can we help you?”

The three kids, probably no older than 18, share silent looks before the curly-haired girl steps forwards and nods, “Yes, hello. We’re looking for Regulus Black, do you happen to know where we can find him?”

Your thoughts sputter and whirl as your gaze burns into Regulus’ head, trying to correctly assess the situation at hand. It was entirely possible that these newcomers were enemies seeking to drain Regulus of his life, but it was also plausible that they were completely harmless and you were overestimating the danger and animosity of wizards in general.

Regulus seems to stew over the same dilemma, and you catch the calculative look that flashes across the girl’s face as she considers your husband’s hesitance. You decide to interject into the tense silence, not wanting to see the situation escalate, “Hello, I’m Y/N. Sorry, we don’t get many visitors in the neighborhood. Are you all a part of a youth group? A church? Unfortunately, if this has to do with fundraising, I don’t think the Black’s are interested, neither will most residents on this street. Perhaps, you can try with the Miller’s down over at that blue house.”

You plaster on an assuring smile as you point over to yonder, feeling Regulus inch towards you until he was practically pressed against your back. The girl hesitates and looks over her shoulder at her companions as they silently begin to communicate again with wide eyes and emphatic eyebrow raises.

Finally, one of the boys steps out and into direct view. Your eyes run across his face, catching against his round glasses and black fringe. Regulus tenses against you as the boy peers towards him with striking green eyes, and you’re almost too entranced by their vividness to stay on guard.

“My name is Harry Potter.”

The announcement does absolutely nothing for you, but you feel Regulus’ breathing hitch before he relaxes. Your husband brings his hand to rest atop your shoulder as he adjusts the paper bag in his grip, “I see the resemblance now, Harry Potter. Why don’t we all head inside?”

You mask your bewilderment at the invitation, turning to send a questioning glance at Regulus. The man merely shoots you a look of conflict before he guides you towards the front door.

As the trio awkwardly shuffle into your house, lingering in your entryway, you shoot them a small smile before beckoning them inside. You still had your reservations, but it seemed that Regulus recognized them — or Harry, to some extent.

The girl slowly walks further into your home, stopping in front of your living room as she glances at the large box propped up against the wall.

“Ah, we were planning on building a bookshelf.” You supply, bringing a hand to run across the nape of your neck.

The girl nods and sends you a shy smile, “I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Y/N Black.”

Your name seems to drop some intangible bombshell on the three young wizards as they all peer at you with wide eyes. Clearing your throat you turn towards the ginger as you gesture towards the couch, “You can all sit. And I don’t believe I got your name earlier.”

They all trudge towards your couch and the boy nods towards you, disbelief still painting his face, “Ron Weasley.”

“A Weasley and a Potter. Interesting.” Regulus’ voice emits from behind you, evidently finished with putting your newly purchased books away. He approaches the living room and stops to stand beside you, eyes assessing the three as they shuffle uncomfortably under your husband’s scrutinizing gaze.

You turn to look at him, nudging your hip against his, “Care to explain?”

“After we get answers,” Regulus murmurs, eyes trailing towards the loveseat, “Come, love.”

As you both settle on the cushions, Regulus immediately bypasses formalities, still uncertain about your guests’ presence, “So, there must be a reason that we’re meeting this way, Mr.Potter.”

Harry visibly gulps at the intense look in Regulus’ eyes, clearing his throat as he leans forward, “Yes, we’ve come because of this,” you tilt your head to the side as the boy fishes out a pendant from his pocket before he holds it up to you both.

Regulus’ hand drops to your thigh as he hums, “I see.” His tone indicated a lack of surprise, yet an unwillingness to indulge. You knew Regulus’ ways of dancing around conversations well.

“You have the real one.” Harry’s words are firm, eyes stormy as he seems to drift into thought.

“So you have come to find me, and pray tell, how did you find me?” Regulus’ flinty words have Harry retreating back imperceptibly, eyes flickering away to consider his answer.

“Well, you used quite a bit of magic to make this.” Harry clears his throat, slowly retracting the dangling locket from the air.

Regulus quietly huffs through his nose, leaning back as he hums, “Tracking spells. Of course. I assume you’re here for the real deal then?”

Your mind was spinning in circles as you tried to keep up with the conversation, having half the mind to be disconcerted by how you both were effectively tracked down by three kids. Hermione licks her lips before leaning forward to address Regulus, eyes scanning him with confusion, “How did you survive that night, sir? If what Harry told us was true, that cave…”

“You lot aren’t the sort to dawdle, are you?” Regulus muses, fingers brushing down to your knee, “To answer your question, Ms.Granger, I received some help that night.”

“Help?” Ron interjected, eyebrows raised in perplexion as he glanced at Harry for an answer.

At Regulus’ admission, you redirect your attention to him, lips furling into a faint frown as you question all the hidden facets of his life. Of course, you knew the foundational details about the magical world, and perhaps tidbits of his past, but the avenue of conversation unfolding before you was completely foreign.

Regulus peers at you for a brief moment before he nods, “Yes. Severus helped me. He gave me the antidote for the potion inside of the basin.”

Ron sputters at this. “Severus? As in Snape?” He spins to look at Hermione who looks equally dumbstruck, yet she steadily caps away her shock with a hum of acknowledgment.

Harry nods slowly as he runs his thumb over the pendant in his palm, “He’s a traitor.”

You gape at the uninhibited jab, wanting to insert yourself into the exchange to defend your friend. Regulus pats your knee before steadily riposting, “Self-servitude finds companionship in loneliness.”

“Is that the life motto for all you snakes?” Ron mutters, hands clasped together as he leans his elbows on his knees.

Regulus seems hardly fazed by the boy’s acrid tone, eyes slowly rising to gaze away, “You know us Slytherins. Self-preservation and then some.”

“To see the right and not to do it is cowardice.” Hermione blanches, mouth set into a thin line as she examines the wall opposite of her.

“Confucius.” You muse, hand trailing down to cover Regulus’.

Regulus nods and gives Hermione a look of consideration, “Gryffindor, then.” The girl nods in confirmation before tilting her head, causing Regulus to continue his train of thought, “I was a bit partial to betting on Ravenclaw. I suppose you hear that often. That being said, I implore you to examine the nuances to Severus’ situation. I can assure you, he is not your enemy.”

The three teenagers seem to sink into their thoughts and Regulus takes this as his cue to slowly push himself up, giving your knee a parting squeeze as he huffs, “I do hope you all know how to destroy it, and I hope you’re able to accomplish your endeavors, Harry Potter.”

Without waiting for a response, Regulus cascades out of the room and up the stairs, only the sound of his muffled footsteps occupying the hushed atmosphere. You slap your palms against your knees as you begin to get up too, mouth slanting into a small smile, “Would any of you like some tea?”

The shock from the impromptu visit from the three teens stew in the air long after they departed from your home, eyes glistening with determination as Regulus relinquished the mysterious locket to them. A lingering itch of curiosity occasionally swept through your head, but you figured that there would come a time when answers would be granted to you.

You just hadn’t figured such a time would arise so soon after. Not even a week after meeting Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley, another novel face was taking residence by your front door.

“Hello, may I help you?” You asked pleasantly, propping your hip against your door frame as you balanced a stack of towels by your side.

The man surveys you with poorly concealed anxiety before he clears his throat and nods, “Hi, I’m looking for a Regulus Black. I was told he lives here.”

You tilt your head and look over your shoulder at the clock, “Yes. He won’t be home for another hour or two. May I ask how you know him?”

“My name is Sirius. Sirius Black. I’m, uh, his older brother.”

Shock flashes across the forefront of your mind at the man’s words, and you barely thread together any semblance of composure as you nod, “Please come in, I think a much needed chat is in order.”

“Thank you.” He breathes out, straightening his coat with a gulp.

“My pleasure, Sirius. I’m Y/N Black, by the way. Which, I suppose, makes you my brother-in-law.”

“Wait—I'm sorry, what?”

masterlist

#regulus black #regulus black imagine #regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black angst #regulus black scenario #the noble house of black #harry potter imagine #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #regulus black fluff #regulus black x you

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beforeimdeceased · 2 months

Note

what if… toxic ellie but make her a subtop 😋

nsfw! ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

omg toxic!ellie getting caught doing some stupid fucking shit again. like cheating or breaking into your car or slashing your date’s tires or putting an airtag in your bag or something else equally fucking insane and you just have to grab her wrist and pull her to the side. furrowing your eyebrows, you shake your head. “ellie.”

and there’s so much conviction in the way you let those two syllables slip off your tongue. a desperately confused question, immediately followed by a sense of knowing. she was doing all of this for attention. she wanted to get under your skin.

“you frustrated or somethin’?” is not what she thought would come out of your pretty plump lips. the ones she’s had her eyes on since you’d dragged her outside against the wall. she looks at you, confusion ridden face.

“huh?”

“huh?” you mock, a small frustrated smile on your face. you shake your head. “you’re acting out. like you want something from me, is that it? do you want something from me?”

and now her sage colored eyes refuse to meet yours. she’s staring at the tip of her shoes, feeling pushed back by your response. how the fuck could you tell? was she making it obvious? you clear your throat, awaiting her answer, and she finds herself even more frustrated than before.

“i don’t want shit from you, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

but you do know what you’re talking about, because the second you looked around and reassured her that it was just the two of you up against that wall, she started whining about how much she misses your sweet cunt.

“you cut me off, but i need you. need to taste you again.”

you just roll your eyes at her. “so this is how you fucking ask?”

no. definitely no. and since she doesn’t know, she’ll have to work for it. she’s gonna start by tongue fucking you against this wall like the cunt dumb slut she is. hands gripping onto your thighs like her life depends on it. moaning into your pussy because you taste so good and you sound so pretty and that was all she wanted. to make you moan her name again.

#i took her to my penthouse #n i freaked it #bunnie can speak? ☆#— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —#ellie williams #・❥・ bun’s sweet ellie #ellie williams x reader #bun’s asks ꕤ #bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #sapphic writing #lesbian #wlw writing #ellie williams x you #ellie williams drabble #tlou fanfic

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visualbutterflysworld · 4 months

Text

Meet my girlfriend | VHackerr

While on stream the chat hears you in the background and begs to met you.

love you vin ! this is for my black girls frfr but only a section

“AH FUCK!” Vinnie hears you scream. He would’ve hurried to your aid but he’s frozen because he’s streaming. With you being so loud the chat hears you. Vinnie’s eyes shift to his monitor partly afraid and partly intrigued

“Who was that?”

“Was that a girl!?”

“WHO WAS THAT?”

“Vinnie you’re cheating on me!?”

“Ahhh! I knew he was dating someone!”

Vinnie licks his lips as he can’t come up with an excuse. He sighs heavily before he starts to talk. “That was my girlfriend. Who screamed.”and that’s when the chat blows up. He sees the views ranking up which means he’s probably trending on twitter not even 5 minutes after he said that.

“Babe!” Vinnie yells for you. You come quickly, standing in the doorway with a confusion look as you know he’s streaming. He relaxes in his chair as he looks at you with a lazy smile. “They heard you. The chat wants to meet you.” You widen your eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I was that loud.” You put your head down in disappointment.

“It’s okay, love, please come say hi.” He smiles even harder as you slowly make your way to him. You glance at the chat. You see so many comments.

“HE CALLED HER LOVE”

“SUCH A WARNER MOVE”

“AHH SHE SOUNDS SO SWEET AND INNOCENT”

“SHE SOUNDS LIKE SILK”

“AHHH”

“Say hi.” Vinnie says as you look unsure. “Can i stay out the frame?” You ask and Vinnie nods, honestly glad he could keep what you look like to himself. “Hi, chat.” You say shyly. “This is my girlfriend guys. Should we give her a nickname?”

The chat floods the comments section with ideas and names. “Mm. Buttercup? I like buttercup. She acts like her from the power puff girls.” “I do not!” You yell! Vinnie laughs as he looks at your little pout. “She does too! Don’t let the cuteness fool you!” Vinnie smiles as he sees more questions pop up.

“Okay, baby, you wanna play lighting round? Answer real quick and short?” Vinnie asked before looking at your almost bare legs. His imagination going off the rails. “Sure.” You put your arms behind your back.

“What’s your age?”

“I’m 23!”

There were a few comments about you and Vinnie’s age gap but hey it could be worse.

“Occupation?”

“I’m a journalist.”

“Favorite color?”

“Depends on my mood. I like sage green, lilac, blue and light pink. Sometimes green and yellow.”

“How long have you and Vinnie been dating?”

“Almost five months!”

“Favorite physical part of vinnie?”

“His smile. He has one of the most beautiful smiles.”

Vinnie couldn’t help but smile. “Compared to her’s mine is pure shit.” You hit him and that’s when the comments blew up more.

“SHES PAC?!”

“BEEN KNEW VINNIE LIKED BLACK GIRLS”

“TWITTER IS FINNA FREAK!”

“VINNIE GOT HIM SOME SPICE!”

“BEEN WAITING FOR HIM TO GET A PAC GIRL!”

You laughed at all the comments. “Yes, I’m black. Thank you guys for noticing.” Vinnie snorted. “Now everyone can shut up about what I like.” You rolled your eyes as you continue reading the comments. Some were unfriendly but it didn’t faze you too much. It was an inevitable thing to happen.

“Well, everyone, I liked chatting with you all but I want to go lay down now so bye!” You waved and make your way out of his room. “I’ll be there in a little bit babe!” Vinnie called out. “Alrighty!”

Well, that went better than you could hope.

#vincent hacker #vinnie hacker #vhackerr #bwwm couples #bwwmromance #oneshot #love #lovers #vinnie hacker x reader

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xstrawberryshiftsx · 22 days

Text

My waiting room <3

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴

@norumis @coquettebratzdoll

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴

THEME: cottage-core

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴

THINGS I'VE SCRIPTED:

A fridge full of my favorite food

Big comfy bed

A laptop: I can script that I have access to every movie and show ever and watch it there.

Phone: Script that I have good wifi, (for fame dr shifters, script that you can watch edits of yourself)

A mirror where I can change my appearance (like diff colors of hair, eyes, etc)

A book with the answers to my questions, any questions.

A book with the opinions people have on ME (personally id love to see that)

an appearance room where I can see what I look like in each dr

A photo album full of my dr friends

My golden retriever Misty, my black cat Willow and My caramel cat Sage

I have a movie room where I can watch interviews/Movies/Memories of myself in my dr's

any book I could possibly want/this is where I write (ideas come straight away)/books I’ve created in my dr

any game i could possibly want with all the mods I need

the locals from the town near my cottage/farm rarely see me and think of me a bit like a crypid/urban legend (i do pop in time to time)

I’m always a subject of gossip and mystery

known as the strange-little-farm girl

no one actually knows my name

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴

IM A MARY SUE IN MY WR DONT JUDGE ME

also please feel free to use any of these ideas and feel free to replog an add some extras <3

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴

#shifting blog #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting consciousness #shifting diary #shifting motivation #shifting script #shifting stories #shifitng

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 month

Text

Meeting your Alpha in the King's Dungeon

A/N: This was someone's request, but I lost the request, so I'm sorry but here it is!

(Alpha) Riordan x GN Omega Reader

General Summary: You've been summoned to a magical world to soothe beast they call Alpha.

Word count: 6.5K

TW: cozy alpha/omega dynamic, kidnapping to another world, gentle alpha, mention of war and a small bit of violence, alpha/omega smut, nesting, knotting, and biting

You woke, your back cold. This wasn't you bed. You smelled something burning, maybe sage or thyme. It smelled herbal.

“Open your eyes, pretty, I know you're awake,” a nasally voice said.

Your eyes blinked open, and you squinted at the light. Sitting up, you found yourself in a well-lit room. It looked like a sort of lab with glass vessels filled with brightly colored liquids. Sunlight poured in the large windows. The glass was thick and uneven, making the world outside blurry. It had to be old and crudely cast to look like that.

“Welcome to my world, little omega,” the voice said.

You turned to see an old man in a purple robe, looking at you expectantly. He was rather short but had oddly long fingers. His face was gnarled with wrinkles, and his teeth were jagged and yellow as if they'd been broken.

“Omega?” you murmured, trying to make sense of the place.

You'd gone to bed as you did every night, yet you woke up here. Where was here?

“Where am I?” You asked.

“I'm sure you have many questions,” he chuckled, “but I don't care to answer them. You may not live long enough for it to matter, and I'm short on time.”

“What?” You gasped, instinctively hopping up, but your body was not yours.

The old man waved a gnarled claw, and you rose off the stone slab where he’d laid you and drifted behind him through a heavy wooden door.

“Hey, where the fuck am I? Who are you?” You snapped at him, wriggling, desperate to escape.

It was no use; whatever…magic he'd used on you kept you bobbing aloft just behind him. As he descended steep stone steps, he mumbled to himself.

“I'm sure I've gotten the signature right this time,’ he muttered. “The last specimen’s pheromones were muddled. Theirs is much more pure. It has to work.”

He stopped at a heavy iron door with a guard beside it holding a pike.

“Help me! This guy is kidnapping me!” you shouted to him.

The guard's eyes slid to you for a moment, and you detected the slightest bit of pity.

“Open the damn door!” The old man snarled. “The king will have all our heads if this doesn't work!”

The guard gave you another somber glance before finding a ring of keys on his waist and unlocking the door.

You did not want to go into the dark, smelly place he was taking you, but you floated like a feather on the wind right after him.

Around you, large shadows loomed behind thick bars. Red eyes peered at you from the gloom. It was quiet at first but then…whatever they were started beating at their cages, howling like beasts. You could only see flashes of sharp teeth and claws. Fear silenced you and you only let out a miserable whimper.

“Ah, here we are,” he said, stopping at one cell.

The creature inside roared his outrage at the sound of the old man’s voice.

There was the sickening snap of wood, and what must have been a bunk came flying at the bars.

“Now, now, Riordan,” he clucked. “I have a new toy for you to play with. Don't rip this one to bits this time, hmm? If this works, you'll see sunlight soon.”

The old man, swifter than he looked, opened the gate and tossed you inside. You landed in a pile on the floor and heard the ominous click of the metal lock behind you.

You crab-walked back towards the gate, terrified of what creature he’d trapped you with. Were you to be food? He'd stolen you from your bed just to feed this…thing?

In the dark, you could only see red eyes, glaring at you, set in a massive form. It must have been eight feet tall and two times the width of a linebacker.

“Please, please,” you whimpered. “Don't eat me.”

The creature parted its lips and you could make out massive, sharp teeth. Instead of pouncing on you, it lifted its nose, sniffing the air.

Staring at it, petrified with fear and confusion, you watched its red eyes dim to a soft glowing green…like sunlight filtering through leaves in spring. They were…pretty.

The creature took a heavy step forward, his wide feet emitting a deep thud. He seemed interested in you.

“H-hey,” you stammered. “That's a good…whatever you are…I'm a friend, not food.”

His eyes narrowed on you, and a large hand emerged from the shadows. You held your breath, ready to be torn apart, but he only patted your head, as if you were a kitten.

“Fascinating!” The old man said.

At his voice, the creature growled, then let out a loud roar that sounded more desperate than angry. You shrieked and jumped out of his way as he rushed the door, throwing his shoulder against the bars. A blue light flashed in front of you, and the creature flew back into the far wall, collapsing into a pile with a heavy thunk.

“I think it's worked!” The old man muttered. “He hasn't torn the arms off of the specimen. Further observations are necessary, but I must report this to the King!”

“Hey!” You shouted as he scurried away, careful not to touch the bars. “You can't leave me here!”

The old man ignored you, and with a slam, the heavy metal door swung shut behind him.

Around you, other creatures growled in the darkness, pacing the length of their enclosures. Unsure what to do, you tiptoed towards the shadowy figure slumped against the far wall.

“You okay, big guy?” You asked. “He didn't kill you, did he?”

Even though the creature was terrifying, you felt for him. No wonder he was in a bad mood being locked up in a dark, smelly cage.

He let out a low groan, and you extended a hand, brushing his hair. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see he looked more human than monster. His teeth were far too large to be truly human, and the features of his face were too rugged, with harsh lines and a pronounced brow. Still, he wasn't ugly. He had an attractive cut to his jaw, and his hair, though it needed a brushing, was soft and maybe blond. It was hard to tell in the dark.

A heavy hand grabbed your wrist, and you screamed, trying to yank your arm back. It was no use; he was too strong. Was this when he ripped your arm off? You braced for pain, but he only lifted his head and sniffed the inside of your wrist.

“You…smell…amazing,” he said.

His voice was low and rough, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. His eyes opened, and he looked up at you. They still glowed, but the red hadn't returned.

“Y-you can talk?” You gasped.

He let out a chuff devoid of humor.

“I was human…once,” he said. “I can remember now. I used to talk a lot.”

“If you're not human, what are you?” You asked.

“An experiment,” he growled, squeezing your wrist.

You whimpered, and he looked up at your hand, suddenly letting it go. He looked slightly ashamed.

“I'm sorry, I,” he muttered. “I'm nothing but a monster now.”

“Did that old man do this to you?” You asked. “Who is he?”

He tipped his head back against the stone wall behind him.

“The King's chief sorcerer,” he said. “He took us all from the army, injected us with Goddess know what, and we became like this.”

He clutched his head.

“I don't know how long it's been,” he moaned. “For so long, I could only see red, and then you came along.”

His eyes focused on you.

“I'm just a normal person,” you said. “I’m not sure what I could have done.”

He leaned forward, burying his face in your chest.

“Oh!” You squeaked.

“Your scent,” he murmured. “the world becomes clear when I’m near you. You chase the red away.”

His big arms circled you, and he pulled you into his lap, tucking his nose behind your ear. You felt the heat of his breath grazing your skin and shivered in his arms.

“I like you here,” he murmured. “Well, not here…but with me.”

“O-Oh,” you stammered. “Well, just your luck then, huh? Seems I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He let out another dry chuff. It was as if he'd forgotten how to laugh, but he was trying to remember.

“Where are we?” You asked. “I went to bed somewhere else.”

He hummed, thinking as he ran a heavy mitt over your head.

“We must be in the South, near the Capital,” he said.

“But where?” You asked. “I'm from Earth…(Y/C)? Heard of it?”

He shook his head.

“No, this is Swarin,” he said. “I've never heard of Earth or…(Y/C). Is it across the sea? Only pirates go that far.”

“I don't think so,” you said. “The old asshole called me Omega. Do you know what that means?”

At that, he nodded.

“I don't really understand all the alchemy behind it,” he said in a low grumble. “But I'm an Alpha. A monster. And you…are soft and delicate, an Omega. We…are compatible…I think.”

“Compatible?” you hummed.

“The sorcerer has been looking for Omegas. There aren't any in Swarin. He's brought down samples…but they never did…what you do.”

“What happened to them all? The samples?” You whispered.

He let out a low groan.

“I don't know, but I can guess,” he said. “I only remember screams…and blood.”

His deep voice cracked.

“What I did…” he sniffled. “What have I become? Why won't they destroy me?”

He pressed you to him like a teddy bear, and you felt moisture on your neck where he'd tucked his head.

Your heart raced, but you reached up and rubbed his cheek.

“It's….it's okay,” you said. “That wasn't you. The old man, the sorcerer, did this…you have no control. When I first saw you, you were out of your mind.”

“I would have killed you,” he sobbed.

You patted his head.

“But you didn't,” you said. “I think …I hope it's okay now.”

You both looked up as you heard the rusty squeak of the metal door open.

“This way, your Radiance,” you heard the sorcerer say.

“This better be good, Elias,” another voice grumbled. “God, this place smells like rotting meat.”

“Don't mind that it's the beasts. They tear apart rats for fun. Come, come. This way,” he replied.

A man with a crown appeared next to the sorcerer in front of the cell. He wasn't quite so old but had a white beard and a regal countenance.

“Look, your Radiance,” he said. “See how the beast is soothed? He clutches the specimen like a pet.”

The king looked at the two of you with interest.

“And you have a source for these…Omegas?” He asked.

“Yes, your Radiance!” He said, clicking his long nails together with delight. “I've found a world through the ether filled with Omegas. This is only the first. I can bring many here. Once we pair the Alphas, they will become useful.”

“They’d better be,” the King snarled, obviously annoyed. “This whole project has been a mess from the start. You promised me super soldiers, and what I’ve gotten is uncontrollable monsters. Can the thing speak?”

You frowned at his description of Riordan as a “thing." He was monstrous, yes, but he had been human once- he still had a soul.

“Riordan,” the sorcerer snapped. “Greet your king!”

Riordan let out a low growl that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

The King looked unimpressed.

“If you don’t cooperate, I will take your new pet from you,” Elias hissed. “You want to keep them, don’t you? If you are good, you will not be separated. You’ll have good food and sunlight. You’ll leave this dungeon, but you must speak like a man, not a beast.”

Riordan bared his teeth, but you patted his hand.

“Speak to him, Riordan,” you whispered. “It’s a step forward. You’re not alone now. We’ll figure this out together.”

His jade eyes flicked to you and then back up to the King.

“Your- Your Highness…apologies,” he ground out.

The King smiled and patted Elias on the back.

“Excellent work,” he said. “Secure the beast and bring him to our war camp for a demonstration in the morning.”

He looked a little sickly.

“I can’t spend another moment in this filth,” he grumbled, turning on his heels and marching out of the door.

The sorcerer looked at the two of you hungrily.

“You heard the King,” he said. “Time to return to the surface. Guards! Bring the collars!”

A handful of guards appeared holding two metal collars. One big and one small.

“Go in there and apply them!” He told them, and they all looked horrified at one another. No one moved.

“Go in now,” he snapped, clapping. “you're going to comply, aren't you, Riordan? Because you want to keep the Omega?”

Riordan narrowed his eyes, but you squeezed his hand.

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Maybe they'll give us some real food.”

You tried to sound positive. Riordan looked at you, then lowered his head.

“I will comply,” he said.

The guards slowly entered the cell, the one holding the collars first.

“Don't mind the collars,” the sorcerer told you. “They are a good thing. They keep you tied together with an invisible tether so your enemies can't separate you on the battle field.”

“What else do they do?” You asked, not believing the sorcerer for a moment.

“They also have the same energy as the bars,” he said. “If either of you misbehave, you can be punished.”

You looked warily at the soldier holding your collar, but you reasoned that the collar may be easier to escape than the dungeon, so you remained still as he snapped it around your neck. The cold metal was uncomfortable but could be tolerated.

The soldiers were eager to get out of Riordan's way as he rose, stepping heavily towards the gate with you in his arms.

The sorcerer looked pleased.

“Now to the baths,” he said. “You can't perform for the King stinking like you do.”

Riordan gave you an uncertain look, and you nodded just slightly.

“It's okay,” you whispered. “Won't a bath be nice?”

You watched his jaw twitch, but he followed silently behind Elias as he led you past the thick iron door. The baths were across the building you were in. Outside of the dungeon, it was quite nice, with potted plants and paintings of flowering meadows decorating the stone walls. Sun filtered in through leaded glass windows, giving you a glimpse at the land you’d been summoned to. From what you could see, there were more stone buildings with people going about their days.

“You have thirty minutes,” a guard barked sharply, drawing your attention back to the task at hand.

He opened a door, and steam scented like lavender drifted out. The room was tiled with a blue and white motif, with a large blue pool in the center. Riordan set you down, attempting to lift your shirt from your back.

“Hey! I can do that!” you snapped.

His eyes flashed, but not red, a rich gold, and he looked contrite.

“I can’t help it, Omega. My instincts tell me to tend to you.”

You huffed. You weren’t sure what to make of this dynamic, but Riordan seemed bent on caring for you. If it kept the red away, you figured you ought to allow it.

“Fine! Go on, but ask next time.”

You eyed him carefully.

“I’m not used to your size.”

A smirk grew on his lips, and a deep noise rumbled in his chest. It sounded like…a happy cat, but deeper. More of a rumble, like thunder from far away.

“Are you purring?” you ventured.

“I think it is natural to calm my Omega…the wizard told me many things I didn’t understand until now.”

He tugged your shirt from you, then your pants, and paused, his fingers skimming the underwear you wore. Though you weren’t used to being naked in front of a stranger, you couldn’t bathe in your underwear. You leveled him with a stern stare.

“Continue, but don’t get any bright ideas.”

He nodded, slipping the small garments off of you. When you were ready, he dipped you in the hot water, following close behind when he’d removed his own clothes. The second he got settled in the water, he scooped you into his lap and started to scrub you.

“What are you doing now?” you rasped.

Underneath you, you could feel all of his power; the massive muscles, hard planes against your soft skin, and something…large poking you in the back.

“You smell…like strange things. I will wash you, then I will scent you.”

You figured that if he had a better-than-average sense of smell, he would probably be able to smell the cheap soap you used, which was filled with chemicals.

“What does ‘scent you’ mean?” you asked as he lifted your arm.

As the smell of rot from the dungeon washed away, you were suddenly aware of a sweet cinnamony smell coming from Riordan.

“I need to mark my Omega, so others know you’re mine,” he said, seeming proud that he could recall such facts. “It will not hurt.”

“Oh…Okay…”

He was very methodical, making sure every inch of skin was cleaned. When he was satisfied you were spotless, his nose dipped to the crook of your neck, and he purred.

“You smell so good, Omega,” he breathed into your skin.

The thick shaft pressed against your body thickened and hardened, drawing breath from your lungs.

“We need to clean you,” you stammered, swirling around to straddle him.

His cock patted your most sensitive spot, and it took some effort on your part not to look down. He watched you with wide eyes as you carefully scrubbed his hair with the lavender-smelling soap sitting on the rim of the tub. When you rinsed it away, you found he had pretty wheat-colored hair. Scraping it back with your fingers, he looked a bit more tidy, though he needed a trim. He didn’t wait even a minute after you were done helping him scrub the years of dungeon nastiness away, snuggling into your neck, running the spot just under his ear down your arms.

You yelped, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm.

“Riordan!” you squealed, and he looked up, his cheeks ruddy.

“I have to rub my scent glands on you,” he informed you matter-of-factly before diving back in.

You tried to ignore the heat that pooled in your stomach as his cinnamon scent filled your lungs. Your breath drew short, and every sensitive spot on your body perked up under his touch. You weren’t sure if you were compatible with the giant, but your body certainly believed you were. As he rubbed himself against you, his cock gingerly brushed your stomach. Closing your eyes, you desperately tried to think about anything but sex.

Riordan’s head rose suddenly, cocked to the side.

“The guard is back,” he muttered.

A moment later said guard appeared in the door, grimacing.

“Don’t tell me you’re going at it in the bath, fucking beasts.”

“W-we weren’t-” you started to say, but your words were cut off by a growl.

“Don’t shout at my mate,” Riordan grumbled as he scooped you out of the water. Standing at his full height, looking down on the guard you saw the annoying intruder’s eyes widen, and he took an instinctive step back. Clearing his throat, he waved the pile of clothes he held at him.

“Come on,” he tried to assert, his voice cracking. “The King is waiting.”

You quickly dressed in the light cotton pants and loose shirt he’d provided, having to pause for a moment so Riordan could refresh his scent on the new items.

Though you could walk, you found your legs swinging in the air as your Alpha tucked you in the crook of his arm.

“Where are we going?” you whispered to him as the guard led you out of the building.

“We are at war…or we were. To a war camp, I assume.”

Around you, a pleasant, medieval village buzzed with activity. As you passed, people gaped at Riordan’s size. He was at least a foot and a half taller than the tallest among them. Your eyes danced around the archaic scene with wonder. Where had this wizard spirited you off to?

Ahead of you, a shrill grinding noise drew your attention. With five guards on each size manning lever handles the massive gate of the city opened to a sprawling wilderness. An overgrown cobblestone road cut through the forested hills, flowers blooming through the cracks in the stones. Dappled sunlight spotted the forest floor, lighting falling leaves like sparkling emeralds. In Riordan’s arms you felt him suck in a heavy breath.

“Nice to breathe fresh air, huh?” you asked and he smiled.

Despite the collars, this was far preferable to the stinking dungeon. Your body shook with the pleased purr emanate from his chest. Hours passed, marching along the winding trail. You could only assume it was early spring by the crisp, cool air and the early blooming daffodils growing from every spot of sun.

As you turned a corner Riordan grunted and you glanced up to see him frowning.

“What is it?” you whispered.

“I can smell the camp from here. It’s much closer than it used to be…not a good sign.”

You blinked at him.

“Do you think the war has been going on for all the years you’ve been captive?”

He nodded, jaw ticking, as he held you close.

“I smell blood and rotting flesh.”

You swallowed hard, sniffing the air. Your scene of smell was not any better than it had been and all that you caught was Riordan’s cinnomin and cardamom musk. The Omega emerging inside of you had you cuddling your head into his chest. It was hard to believe you were some magical creature, designed to compliment this massive beast, but your body and instincts were already caught up.

His purr soothed your anxiety and you wanted to roll around in his scent. You wouldn’t have liked them under any circumstances, but the longer you bonded with Riordan the more bloodthirsty thoughts about his captors filled your mind.

Freedom, your Omega crooned, Freedom to mate, to nest, to rear his pups.

Before you could catch yourself, you were fisting his shirt, the urge to rearrange it to your liking driving your fingers.

“Soon, Omega,” he purred. “Soon you can make your nest.”

The impatient, emerging Omega huffed at him. He chuckled, allowing himself a moment of amusement before his attention returned to the road ahead. The sounds of metal clanging and shouting soldiers signalled your arrival.

The camp was an ugly, dirty place. Smokey bonfires smothered your breaths and soldiers, some clearly injured, covered in blood scuttled around. Your guard guided the two of you through the hastily erected tents. Some were merely a bit of leather stretched between some odd poles. The one you stopped at was the finest of them all, made with lengths of canvas and gold and silver threads.

“Gold threads at a war camp? A waste,” Riordan scoffed quietly, following your eyes. “Money would be better spent on bandages and rations. The enemy doesn’t care for such indulgences.”

You blinked up at him.

“You know a lot about war?”

His eyes narrowed as he thought.

“I believe I ranked captain when I was taken.”

“Wait here,” the guard ordered before he entered the tent. A moment later the king emerged surrounded by his entourage.

He smiled up at the both of you, not a friendly smile. It was calculating and cool.

“Enjoy the walk, creature?” he asked, his lips carrying a smirk. “Nice to be out in the sun again, isn’t it?”

You felt the growl building in your Alpha’s chest and patted him to calm him. He glanced down at you and you flicked your head just slightly to tell him not to fight this. Instead, he gave the King a half bow, careful not to jostle you.

Pleased, the King smacked his hands together.

“Now is the time to work for your supper,” he announced. “You’ll be accompanying a regiment to flank the enemy in the hills. If you make it back and do as your told, there will be food for your return.”

“We will not be fed now?” you asked. “He will need energy to fight your enemy.”

The King scowled at you and one of his guards slammed his spear into the dirt.

“Learn to show your king proper respect,” he snarled.

You felt Riordan’s arm tighten around you, but he gritted out an apology.

“Please excuse my Omega. They are not used to our ways.”

He set you down, patting your head.

“Stay here where it’s safe. I’ll be back soon.”

The King laughed outloud.

“Oh no, your little Omega will be going with you. I’ll have no mishaps if you go rogue.”

At that Riordan growled.

“It’s too dangerous. They are not a soldier!”

This time the guard rubbed a strange crystal he had around his neck and Riordan spasmed as his collar shocked him.

“Silence creature, you’ll do as your King wills!”

You tugged on his shirt, asking to be picked back up. King’s edict or no, you didn’t want to leave Riordan’s side. He gave you a wary glance before he scooped you back up, panting from the shock.

“Aye, your majesty,” he finally said on a heavy breath.

The King gave Riordan a haughty look, high on the idea that this creature served him, only.

“Escort them to the battlefield!” he announced before returning to the comfort of his tent.

The soldiers around you looked wary, be it from Riordan’s great size or what lay ahead, you couldn’t tell. However, this time you smelled your destination long before you arrived. The scent of death was on the wind.

As you drew closer, the scent wound around the sound of screaming and metal clanging. In either realm, you’d never seen a battle before and it was nothing like the movies. All of the parts were there, dead bodies, swords, shields, sweating soldiers, but it was all so much more. At the back, some captain shouted orders, but nothing about this seemed orderly. The soldiers had long broken whatever formation they had been in and it was clear the enemy had them pressed.

“This is no good. The King will be overtaken by nightfall,” Riordan whispered to you.

The captain seemed acutely aware of this fact, a bit of hope in his expression when Riordan appeared.

“Into the fray beast!” he shouted. “Drive them back or we’ll all be skewered!”

Needing his hands, Riordan reluctantly put you down.

“Stay close, Omega,” he murmured, his large jaw setting.

Your heart pattered in your chest, holding on the the back of his shirt as he waded into the bloody mess. Enemies flew at him swords raised, but he threw them back with little more than a wave of his arm. You tried to stifle your screams, lest he be distracted, shuffling behind him. The enemy was thick, bearing down on the two of you from seeming every direction.

You jerked a dagger loose from one of the bodies you past, swinging it at a soldier who’d gotten too close.

The enemy’s face was hidden by silver armor carrying a massive sword. A desperate scream emerged from your chest as he bore down on you with the sharp end of the blade. Riordan turned to come to your rescue, but it was too late. The sword made contact with the collar around your neck, knocking you sideways. Riordan roared, grabbing the soldier and ripping his sword arm off. You gasped in the bloody mud of the battlefield, prepared to meet you maker. Only, you didn’t die…in fact, you weren’t hurt at all. The collar around your neck slipped off you, sliced clean in half.

Free, you sat up, eyes wide with confusion. Riordan, however, was quick and sharp, prying the sword from the disembodied arm’s grasp.

“Elven metal,” he gasped, green eyes glowing.

Before you could question him, you’d been tossed over his shoulder and he made a B-line to the forest’s edge. In the chaos, your guards hadn’t even noticed, busy fighting back the enemy the best they good. As soon as you were safely past the treeline, he turned the sword, which looked like little more than a cooking knife in his hand, to his own neck. The collar popped off with little trouble and Riordan massaged the sore skin where he’d been burned.

“What now?” you gasped, still eyeing the battle behind you with concern.

“Now we run,” he announced.

Before you could respond, he picked you back up and sprinted into the forest.

“Where are we going?” you asked as trees flew by.

“The mountains, it ought to be safe there.”

There was little you could do but hold on tight and peek over his shoulder to be sure you weren’t followed. You must have dozed off, because you woke in a strange place…on a bed. The sheets were itchy wool, but warm enough. In fact, you were quite warm. Blinking you looked around. A cheery fire roared in a stone fireplace and the scent of the stew boiling in a pot filled your lungs. You found yourself in a little cabin. There was only one room, but it came furnished with the bed you were on, a rocking chair, and a small table with a log bench.

“Riordan?” you called, though you were the only person in the room.

A few moments later the door opened. You could see it was snowing outside and a puff of icy air hit your face.

Your alpha brushed snow off his shoulders before he smiled at you.

“You slept a long time Omega,” he chuckled, handing you a pile of what looked like linens.

“What’s this?” you asked. “Where are we?”

“In the mountains.”

You looked down at the pile he’d set on your lap.

“What are these?’

“Some blankets for your nest. They’re not very nice, but I’ll get you better ones soon.”

“Where did they come from?”

“The orc village next door. After I dropped you off here, I went looking for food and stumbled on some very surprised orcs.

They have no great love of humans, so when I explained our situation, they asked if I would join their patrol in exchange for some supplies to get us started. With my size, they see me as one of their own, I suspect.”

“They don’t mind we’re staying in this cabin?”

He shook his head.

“It’s a patrol cabin, we’d be staying in it anyway. We can stay as long as we like, or move into the village if we want.”

He grinned, pleased he could provide for you. Your Omega side purred in your head and without thinking you started organizing the furs and blankets to form a proper nest. It came instinctively to you, where everything ought to go for maximum comfort. While you were busy with that, Riordan shuffled about the cabin, straightening things and finally spooning two bowls of stew for you.

“C’mon Omega,” he said, setting your soup on the table. “You can fuss more with your nest after dinner.”

"Your eyes are still green? I thought you'd go red without me."

His eyebrows jumped as he considered that thought.

"I think with your scent all over me, it held it off. Perhaps it will work even better when I've given you my bite."

Your cheeks warmed at the prospect of his teeth on your neck.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the warm food filled your stomach. After all you’d been through, you felt safe. The cabin was already filled with Riordan’s comforting scent. Belly full and your nest on it’s way to a proper state, your Omega mind turned it’s attention to other matters. Your eyes drifted over Riordan’s strong shoulders, down to his thick hands. You’d always liked hands and his long strong fingers, lined with stiff veins sent heat pooling in your core.

He looked up from his soup suddenly, sniffing the air and giving you a wicked smile.

“Are you ready for me, Omega?” he asked and you didn’t have to wonder what he meant.

Your body already knew. Purring, he abandoned his meal and gently set you in your nest, examining your features closely. Your cheeks burned under his careful inspection and some feral part of you wanted to tear off his clothes.

His green eyes flashed gold and a smug smirk spread across his lips.

“Present yourself to me, Omega,” he purred. “Invite me into your nest.”

Those words in his grumbly bass, flicked a switch inside you. Your logical self slipped into a fog of lust, your instincts telling you to undress. With trembling hands you tugged your shirt over your head, then slipped off your pants, finally your damp underwear went. As nature told you, you scooted to the back of your nest to make room for his big body, then tipped your head to expose your neck to him.

He thundered his approval with a deep growl.

“Sweet little Omega,” he hummed, crawling across the sheets to you like a hungry panther. Your first kiss was soft and sweet, but was soon followed by his greedy mouth, eating you up. Your tongues and teeth clashed. He seemed desperate to taste you, pushing you onto your back to pin you to the bed.

“Let me out,” he growled, his husky demands making your spine arch.

Your most secret place wept for him, smearing your desire across the blankets you’d arranged. You carefully unfastened his pants, his cock bobbing to greet you. Precum dribbled down the length of it and you gave it a curious stroke. It was so big, hot, and ready for you. Under your touch, he hissed in pleasure, egging you on. It seemed impossible that that would fit inside of you, but you wanted to try. You wanted to please him, seduce him, so he’d give you his bite.

The concept echoed in the haze enveloping your mind.

His bite? He’s going to bite me.

You weren’t afraid. You knew in some primordial corner of your consciousness that his bite was good. It was exclusive. With his bite you were his and he was yours.

When your gentle teasing became too much, he flipped you on your stomach, big hand fisting your hair.

“You were made for me, omega, but I won’t force you,” he informed you. “Tell me now. Do you want my bite?”

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, eyelashes fluttering at the pressure on your scalp.

“Be a good Omega and say the words,” he chided.

“Yes, Alpha…I want your bite,” you whispered.

“When we are like this, you will always call me Alpha.”

“Yes, Alpha,” you moaned, body lighting up as you did what was natural to you and submitted.

He let out a possessive chuff and you felt him nudge your legs further apart to accommodate his width. You were already plenty wet, but Riordan needed his scent in your most secret place, spreading his precum on your clenched channel.

His sticky fingers drifted over your body, covering you in his essence. You were his and he needed you to know it.

“All of this is mine,” he hummed in somewhat of a trance, stuffing his fingers into your mouth so you could taste him.

Unable to speak, you whimpered and sucked, the flavor of his spice on your tongue. While the fingers of one hand pushed into your mouth, the other tested your slick tunnel. Your muscles clenched at his intrusion, pleasure and need forcing you to push your hips back to seek your pleasure.

“Good omega,” he purred, pushing another finger inside, “You’re going to take me just fine.”

After thrusting and scissoring until your arms collapsed under you, your face pressed into the pillow and you ass sticking up, you felt the round head of his cock pushing against your core.

“Relax. You can take it.”

Tears slid down your cheeks as he entered you. He was large, extremely large, but your body performed some kind of Omega magic, stretching to accommodate him. He let out a gutteral grunt as he bottomed out inside.

“So tight and hot.”

He gave you one small thrust, to test you.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes, alpha!” you wailed into the pillow.

You’d had sex before, but it was nothing like the sense of sheer domination you felt with his massive cock moving in you. Your pleasure was his, your body was his, your mind was his.

“Show me your neck.”

You tipped your head to bare your skin to him. He settled a hand on the spot where your throat and shoulder came together, holding you open for him as he slowly revved up his thrusts. With every ragged drive your mind unwraveled.

Your alpha was fucking you. Your body gave him pleasure. Your cheeks burned with a sense of Omega accomplishment. You’d lived your whole life not knowing that this was what you were made for. Your heady mewls filled the little cabin as he rutted you. He curled his hands around your body, playing with your sex with his fingers. His touch drove you deeper and deeper into madness and you whimpered for more, pleading and begging into the pillow.

He pushed you higher and higher until you were ready to implode. Seeing the time was right, Riordan bared his teeth, sinking them into your neck. It was impossible to tell if he timed it just right to bite as you came or if the bite caused you to cum, but it really didn’t matter. Suddenly you were in the stars, a sensation beyond an orgasm rolling through you along with the heat of your Alpha’s cum spilling into you.

It felt good, and right, and explosive. You let out a yelp as colors sparkled in your vision and pressure built in your channel.

“Wh-what?” you could only stammer.

“Shhh, shhh, Omega, all is well. You’ve taken my knot.”

He rocked the engorged rock into you as he stroked the most pleasurable spot with your fingers. The pressure turned into bliss and you melted into him as he licked the bite on your neck.

“You did so good, taking my bite and my knot,” he purred, calming you. “You are a perfect Omega…so perfect.”

He rolled on his side, smoothly taking you with him so as not to disturb the shaft linking the two of you.

“I’m yours now?” you squeaked, thoughts still scattered.

It was the only thing you could put together.

“Yes, sweet one. You’re mine.”

You let your body relax, his scent perfuming your nest. You were safe, marked, and all was as it should be.

Bluesky -- Carrd -- Commissions -- Instagram -- Threads -- Subscribestar -- Art

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waynes-multiverse · 2 months

Note

Can I put in the request for Ben to “support the fine arts?” 🤣

A/N: Hahaha you may! Hope you have fun with this! Based on this drabble and this little ask 😝

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSFW, smut (oral m), degrading, dirty talk, weird jealousy on both side, SB being a manipulative asshole

Word Count: 2.5k

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist

He Comes In Colors

The chatter in the classroom quiets down as your teacher, Mrs. Fournier, enters. You and your friends finish your sentences in hush and take your seats in front of your respective easels, not wanting to upset the strict, older lady again.

But instead of her usual cantankerous and bitter features, she sports an unusually bright smile and pinkly flushed cheeks today, still giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush and looking in the direction of the hallway as she walks to her desk.

Bashfully, she clears her throat and fights to regain her composure. “Class, we have a change of plans. I know we were supposed to devote our attention to the intricacies of nature today, but an opportunity presented itself we simply cannot pass up on. We have a very special guest this beautiful afternoon, who so graciously volunteered to be our model for this class.”

Your chest tightens slightly at her words, encumbered with a dark forewarning that settles in your gut. And as you catch a flicker of an all too familiar sage green kimono by the door, the bad omen in your belly only grows.

He wouldn’t dare, you think. Would he?

But you don’t have to answer your own question. Deep down you already know.

Of course, he would.

“Ladies and gentlemen, meet our model for today – the one and only Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier introduces, and you watch with parted lips as your stupid boyfriend strides into the classroom with an even stupider grin.

Mrs. Fournier claps with vivid adoration, expecting the class to follow her lead, but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than an annoyed slow clap. You shoot him a glare, and the smirk directed at you tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He aims to get on your nerves. He wants you to be mad.

Now, you’re sure you’ve done something in the last couple of days to upset him, and this is his way to enact his revenge instead of talking to you like an emotionally intelligent human being. Because Ben’s a fucking petty child, and this is how he deals with his feelings.

Ben offers his most charming red-carpet smile. “Pleasure to be here and support the fine arts, Mrs.–”

“Fournier,” your teacher provides all too helpfully.

“Ah, like fornicate. I can remember that,” Ben quips with a flirtatious smirk, while you suppress the sudden urge to stab him with the sharp end of your paintbrush.

You half expect the French woman to be appalled by the dirty joke. But to your big surprise, your over-sixty teacher only giggles in response like a high school freshman when the quarterback winks at her in the hallway.

“It is such an honor to have you here in my classroom, Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier raves with a blush haunting her cheeks. “You have been my favorite superhero ever since I was a little girl.”

“Oh, so only ten years, huh?” Ben flirts shamelessly, all the while sending you little glances that let you know that this is your punishment.

Do you have a clue yet what you did? Nope! And you suppose you will never find out. You just have to get through this.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Soldier Boy devilishly rubs his palms together as he struts into the middle of the room, and with one flawless swing, he drops the robe and stands before you (and your classmates) in all his god-given glory. And boy, did God give – not only with two hands but probably with six or seven.

Mrs. Fournier gasps unabashedly with a palm on her weak heart and goddamn drool in your mouth, causing your frown only to deepen.

“Marvelous! Simply marvelous,” she rhapsodizes and is close to fainting. Of course, your boyfriend enjoys all this attention greatly. “It’s like staring at the statue of David!”

“Oh, please…” you mutter with a miffed scoff and roll your eyes back, but that only earns you a scolding glare from your teacher. You know then that showing your displeasure with the situation will only secure you a failing grade.

Ben then props his foot up on a little stool right in front of you, his cock hanging heavy and long between his muscular bow legs. And no, it’s not inflated to its full size but still as impressive and formidable as a lion king during a safari.

His gaze only sweeps across you before it lingers on your friend Alexander. There’s a cocky and yet threatening glint in your boyfriend’s eyes as he assesses the male next to you.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Soldier Boy prompts daringly. Only your boyfriend could talk about his dick like that and not even feel an ounce of shame. “Don’t worry, squirt. I’m sure yours is just fine,” he adds, but you know he doesn’t mean it.

And then, suddenly, it dawns on you – why he has decided to infiltrate your art class.

Two nights ago, you went out with Alexander and a few other friends from class for drinks and didn’t invite Ben. Mostly because Ben is obnoxious when he meets new people and is a little too “old-school values” for your hipster friends. It would take ages alone to even explain all their different sexualities and pronouns to your last-century boyfriend. You just wanted one night for yourself, and you knew now that hurt his feelings.

You even felt a tiny bit bad and guilty but by far not enough to accept this current shit show he was delivering.

“Oh my, I don’t want to be too forward but may I–” Your teacher doesn’t finish her sentence, but her reaching hand is suggestion enough.

Soldier Boy chuckles amusedly. “Oh, you may,” he says but smirks at you as you gape at him in utter indignation. “What kind of hero would I be, if I said no? After all, this body belongs to every American citizen.”

And as Mrs. Fournier’s greedy palm stretches for your boyfriend’s perky buttcheek, something inside you snaps. You jump up from your seat, all wild and fuming, before you realize everyone is staring at you with wide eyes and confused brows. No one knows you’re dating him, so your upset seems completely unwarranted to everyone else in the room. Only Ben’s lips rise triumphantly.

“Be-… Soldier Boy,” you correct yourself and clear your throat, forcing a tight-lipped smile on your face. “A word, please?”

“Y/N, we’re in the middle of a class. Show our guest some respect,” your teacher demands chidingly.

But Ben soothes her anger with another charming smile. “Oh, absolutely no problem, beautiful,” he says and causes Mrs. Fournier to blush once more. “Y/N here is clearly an adoring fan, and I always have time for my fans.”

“Yes, I’m a huge fan. I’ve never met a real celebrity before. My grandma will be so thrilled when I tell her all about it,” you lie as dryly as possible. Honestly, you’re so pissed you can’t get yourself to act remotely convincing.

“We’ll be right back,” Ben excuses with a tight smile.

He quickly throws his robe back on and grabs your upper arm, ushering you outside. You want to stop in the hallway, but he drags you further and shoves you into a supply closet, closing the door a little too roughly.

“You know the rules: no fucking drama in public. It’s not good for my image,” he reminds you sternly, and you try not to scoff.

“How dare you say that after waltzing into my goddamn class? Ben, my education is serious. You don’t mess with that,” you point out angrily and fold your arms over your tits. “I don’t have time for your petty revenge.”

“Yeah, you never have fucking time,” he huffs scornfully.

“Is this because I didn’t invite you for drinks with my friends?” You cock an eyebrow, shooting him a knowing look.

“No, this is because you went out with that fucking empty nutsack in there,” he bites and points an angry finger at you. “And by the way, you’d be fucking lucky to show me off. I’m a fucking catch! Have you seen how those bitches fawned over me in there?”

“Who? Mrs. Fournier? That old hag hasn’t seen any action since the French Revolution. She’d fawn over a fucking trash bag,” you retort and watch Ben purse his lips dejectedly. You smirk a little at your win.

But you don’t want to antagonize him more. You can tell that you hurt his fragile ego with your rejection, and while he fucking annoys you and drives you incredibly mad sometimes, you’re still deeply in love with the idiot in front of you. He does have his sweet moments every once in a while. He comes in many colors, a whole palette of different shades.

“Look, uhm, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to, okay? I don’t want you to be jealous. You have no reason to be, alright? I love you, asshole,” you tell him with a small smile.

“Fine, maybe I was a little jealous,” he admits after a beat. “But not of that scrawny twinkie in there.”

“Alright, maybe I was a little jealous, too,” you remark to make him feel better. “But not of that old French whore in there.” Ben snorts at that, chuckling. “So, do you forgive me and get the fuck outta my class now?”

Ben muses slyly and then grins. “I don’t think that apology was good enough.” Your brow draws into a deep frown at his words. Whatever has gotten into his mind now can’t be good. “They do say an apology is only worthy if it’s said on someone’s knees.”

You glare at him, your hands balling into furious fists by your side. “You gotta be kidding me…” you mutter and hiss through your teeth, “Ben, I’m not fucking blowing you in the supply closet of my school!”

Ben only shrugs carelessly. “Alright, guess I’ll have to ask Mrs. French Whore and see if she takes me up on my offer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you grit.

“Oh, we both know I would, but I do prefer your beautiful and warm mouth, doll,” Ben smirks, letting each word roll off his tongue as his thumb pad reaches out and seductively traces your pink lips.

Instinctively, you suck his thumb into your mouth and massage it with your tongue, only widening his brash smile. As your eyes flicker down, you notice his rock-hard cock push through the fabric of the kimono and salute you. Your legs grow wobbly at the sight, your knees giving in with the urge to bend.

“Down,” he mouths, and you oblige without another protest, sinking to your knees in front of him.

You part your lips and stick your tongue out, ready to welcome his swollen tip. He fists his length and jerks his palm up and down a few times. He likes it to be as big as possible. He loves to see you struggle as you desperately try to fit all of him inside your tiny mouth.

His free hand lifts your chin, forces your eyes to find his as he guides his cock to your waiting mouth. He plops it on your tongue, heavy and thick, and lets it rest there for a second, gauging your reaction with a knowing smirk. You seal your lips around his weeping tip without question, your tongue swirling around it and dipping into the slit. You lick the salty precum with moans of pleasure, your hums sending vibrations up and down his length as your head begins to bob.

With each swallow you get closer to his pelvic bone, but Ben’s impatient and fists his hand into your hair. He roughly tugs and pulls you all the way down till your nose disappears in the little tuft of hair and tears stream down your cheeks as you cough for air.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl. Choke on my cock, you little slut,” he growls. His hips rock and find a rhythm as he thrusts inside you, hitting the back of your throat each time. “Fuck, that’ll teach you a lesson, won’t it? Who do you fucking belong to?”

He pulls you off his spit-drenched cock for the sole reason of replying. You look up at him as he expectantly meets your gaze with an arched eyebrow.

“You, daddy,” you reply on command.

He smirks in satisfaction and praises you, “There’s my good girl.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes back inside you. “Gonna send you back in with my cum all over you. Show those little pricks they can’t fucking touch what’s mine.”

As his hips gain speed, you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, feeling him swell on your tongue. Your jaw begins to ache, barely fitting his girth while his massive length drills relentlessly into your throat. Drool dribbles out from the sides of your mouth and mixes with your tears. Your mascara is nonexistent at this point and smeared all over your face.

And you know damn well, as soon as you walk back into class, everyone will know what you did.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Ben groans and pistons deeper once more, squeezing his eyes shut. You know it’s his telltale sign that he's close. “You’re such a fucking mess. Shit, gonna blow…”

He grunts as his hips stutter and his cock throbs in your mouth. He shoots hot ropes of cum down your throat, pulling out in the midst to paint your face with the rest. God knows he would never miss an opportunity to mark you. And when he’s done with his piece of sublime artwork, he smirks down at you, all self-satisfied and proud.

But then a bit of sweetness returns as he holds out his hands and helps you back on your feet. He gently tucks and brushes your hair back into place before snatching a roll of paper towels from the rack of art supplies behind you. He thoroughly cleans your face, removing any evidence of his deed, and kisses your hairline like you’re his most prized possession when he’s finished.

“There, all done, doll.” Ben’s smile makes you blush as he cups your cheeks. “No one will be the fucking wiser.”

As the two of you saunter back inside, no one seems to suspect anything. You get back to your original seat, while Ben invents some silly excuse to get out of his naked commitment.

But then Alexander tilts his head at you with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, his finger pointing at his own cheek. “Y/N, uhm, I think you have something there. Oh, uhm, is that…”

He doesn’t finish as your eyes widen and your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your shocked gaze darts to your boyfriend as he lingers by the door. With one last cunning smirk, he winks at you and heads out.

Yes, your boyfriend surely comes in many colors – and most of them are dark.

And yes, you bet your ass Ben was crushing hard on Mrs. Fournier 😂 Hope you enjoyed this!

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Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33

#dirty drabbles #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x femaler reader #soldier boy reader insert #soldier boy smut #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x reader #the boys smut #jensen ackles

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phantomcodes · 7 days

Text

emerald | theme by sage

get the code: static preview / live preview @tina-snow my first theme back!! a npf supported sidebar theme

features (more info below the cut):

toggle: tags on click, updates tab, left/right sidebar

headerbar includes blog icon & title/home link | day/night & tumblr controls buttons

sidebar includes links for home, ask, archive, & up to 4 extras, an uploadable image, and custom description

customizable: blog title, description, colors, body & title fonts, and font size

npf supported, responsive design, scroll to top, 3 corner options, tabler icons

nothing needs to be changed in the code, everything can be changed in the customize panel!

terms:

reblog if using

do not touch the credit

all terms / faq

credits listed in the code / credits page

please consider supporting me ♡

this is my first theme in over a year (wtf) so please be patient as i'm still learning to navigate the new npf stuff!! i'm still on a sort of semi-hiatus, i'll be around for questions but please check my faq, answered asks, etc. before asking - i will not answer repeated questions!

blog name !! important

make sure you fill out the blog name field, this is what will show on the top of all your original posts. to clarify: your blog name is your blog’s url - for example: phantomcodes

responsive sidebar

when the browser window gets too small the sidebar will disappear and become toggleable, the sidebar toggle button will appear on the right side of the header

reminders

remember tumblr's customize panel is buggy, you may have to toggle the options on/off before saving

#themehunter #theme hunter #code hunter #tumblr theme #tumblr themes #tumblr codes #tumblr resources #completeresources #allresources #userbru #userdre #usernik #useraashna #tuserlucie #emerald #phantom code #phantom theme #responsive theme

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jttw-monkeybusiness · 10 months

Note

What inspired you monkie boi's design ? Any specific monkey or take on the great sage ?

I have answered the same question on my main blog when I didn't have this one so I will explain again! ✨ So my version of Sun Wukong was mainly inspired by the Monkey King Reborn movie bc it was the first movie about Monkey King that I saw! I just loved his facial markings and his edgy personality so much! He was definitely the main inspiration for my Wukong's look!

At the same time, I was introduced to Lego Monkey Kid when I realized "Hold up. This seems familiar somehow-" and I found out it was inspired by Journey To The West. I don't remember the very first time I saw something about JTTW but I knew the basic stuff from the story. However, I didn't know who Sun WUkong was until I saw that movie. Then I got interested (obviously) in Sun Wukong's character and I saw these paintings and art of him and I sunk into the rabbit hole.

Then I just happen to jump back on Tumblr to see some art of Wukong and AU's and I just loved it! So many talented artists are out there doing God's work with their own AU's and I can only name a few of them (@journey-to-the-au, @digitalagepulao, @semisolidmind, @sixteenthchapel, @sunny-days-and-warm-mournings) bc there are more! But those were the first artist I just happen to fall right into their traps and here I am. Still trapped 😩

But I think when it comes to my son's design I just looked a lot of art and references and just tried to find a line that I feel comfortable drawing many times (hint, why his clothes are simple with no pattern) and focus on other things. Just trying what colors and clothes feel good. Trying to find the vibe that I'm looking for him ✨

So yeah. I think I just happened to find it again after many many years and now that I'm older I got interested. I still don't know the story THAT deeply and that's the reason I made AU so I can stay on safe waters 😭 I hope this answered your question!

#personal questions #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #jttw tag #journey to the west #journey to the au #my art

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thegoldfishkid13 · 8 months

Text

Transformed Jasper Hale x reader

A/n: Please feel free to send me requests for characters :)

Warning: Blood mentioned, death kinda, swearing?, Rosalie being softish

Words count: 794

Type: Sorta angsty with a dabble fluff

Masterlist

I lay on the ground in agony, pieces of glass scattered around me. The vampire, not one I know, is standing above me wiping the blood from his mouth. My blood! The pain suddenly hit causing me to groan, a fire sensation shot through my body. The vampire bent down to touch my face, I tried to pull away but I couldn’t. He leaned down and whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t understand what he said, the pain was unbearable. All I want is for the pain to stop. Another agonizing shot of pain runs through my body.

“Please…” I begged for him to make the pain stop, to do something. He shook his head no.

“ Sorry sweetheart, but a lesson needs to be taught.” Confusion filled my brain. ‘ Why was I being punished?’ ‘Did Jasper get into trouble and not tell me?’ While questions raced through my head another vampire joined him in the room. She looked down at me and smirked, she motioned something and then they both jumped out of the window. I layed on the floor still, I couldn’t move or more pain would shoot through my body. It felt like I layed there for hours on end, in reality it was 30 minutes. I heard the front door of my house open and then shut. Someone was yelling my name.

I tried to scream for help but all that was able to be released was a strangled cry. Footsteps grew quickly and louder, he wasn’t alone, someone was with him. My bedroom door flew open with so much force that it almost blew it off the hinges. They rushed over to my side. I opened my eyes and looked at who was standing there, it was Alice, Jasper and Carlisle.

“Make it stop please, It hurts!” I beg. Carlisle was quick to get down by my side and the others followed, he turns my head and see the bite mark, which was slowly healing.

“ We are too late, she will transform soon.” He spoke “The venom has already entered her blood stream and started to take over. The best thing we can do is stay with her.” His voice was calm and serious.

“There has to be something we can do, right?” Jasper spoke, Carlisle shook his head no, nothing could be done. I close my eyes again, too weak to speak. I felt a cold hand grip mine and I heard footsteps leave the room, most likely giving me and Jasper space. Cold lips connected with my forehead.

“I’m sorry darlin’, I love you and now we can be together forever, nothing will bring us apart.” His voice shook, if he could cry he would. A strangled groan leaves my mouth and that’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up in the Cullen family home. I could tell that it was Jasper's room by the dark sage green walls, the color we picked together. I get up and look in the mirror, to see that I was changed into a black dress, I gasp. My eyes are red and my skin is cold and pale. I open the door and walk down the stairs to the living room where everyone was sitting. Most looked solem and others looked worried. Alice was the first one to notice me standing there.

“Y/n? You’re finally awake.” She said, excitement filled her voice. Everyone turned and looked at me, I just stood there and nodded, not knowing what to say. Jasper rose from his place on the couch and rushed over to me. He wrapped me in an almost bone crushing hug.

“Oh darlin’” Was all he said. I hugged him back, squeezing him, rocking us back and forth. Everyone got up and joined the hug, each saying they were glad that I’m okay and everything.

“What even happened?” I asked. I already knew the answer but it would be comforting to be told.

“ You were transformed into a vampire and now you're one of us.''Alice said, her voice was giddy and excited.

“You have so much to learn, come one.” Alice grabbed my hand and drugged me out of the house and into the woods. I tried to protest but it’s Alice and she doesn’t listen. Edward stayed inside with Bella, who still had a bandage around her wrist from some sort of accident I’m guessing. Rosalie and Emmet were standing with us.

“Y/n I know I haven’t been the nicest to you and I apologize.” Rosalie spoke, this shocked me.

“ Thank you Rosalie, it means alot.” I said and gave her a wide grin, Emmet gave her a hug and mumbled something causing me to let out a small giggle. Maybe transforming was for the best.

#jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight

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sage-is-in-fact-very-tired · 4 months

Note

im sending you a character but its not icarus-

mmmmmmm wolf? /nf

awoooo

[First Impressions]

man he so fuffy and cool lookin, also very strong. very tall. very funky. wonder what that whole "being a wolf" thing is about

[Impressions Now]

Uh. sad :(( ; he needs a hug, man.

[Favorite Moment]

mmmmmm. I do enjoy pretty much anything that happened at Morningstar, castle crew my beloved. i am. not very good at picking favorites honestly-

[Idea for a story]

oh i had a new one the other day and i wont say anything but i will say its sad and definitely involves ic cause im a little loser-

[Unpopular Opinion]

uhhhh, i dont really think i have one? at least not one that i can think of

[Favorite Relationship]

mmmm, i dont like picking favorites when it comes to romantic relationships (but i do hold nightingstar in my little hands); platonic wise i hold wolf and Icarus in my hands-

[Favorite Headcanon]

im not sure; i think the idea that wolf has kept some (or attempted to keep some] of his human mannerisms as a wolf is one i think about on occasion and i hold it in my hands. Also the idea that Ic would help him preen is another one and i think about it.

#mmmmmm #i dont have many headcanons for wolf so that last question was *hard*#sage answers things [colorized]

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strawbrerian-writes · 11 months

Text

Take Me As I Am

Summary:

Long after the fall of a death lord, Lucien and Elain have become friends. Teammates even. He's learned to be content in this, never believing he could have more. As his parents prepare to take their vows, he's readying himself to become Prince of Day, and Elain has a question for Lucien.

for @elucienweekofficial

“Lucien?”

Lucien slowly looked up from his book at the quiet intrusion, the scent of jasmine and honey filling the space. Elain was standing in the open door to his rooms, dressed in a long linen robe covering much of her sun-kissed skin.

“Yes, Lady?” Lucien stood, cognizant of the fact he was only in a pair of low-slung linen pants and a loose white tunic. He laid his book on the small table beside him. She seemed nervous her hands fisted in the tie of her robe.

“What is your least favorite food?” she asked the question in a rush. Lucien barely caught it.

“Why do you want to know?” Lucien asked in return, cocking his head just slightly. His long, unruly hair brushed over his shoulders. He shifted his weight, settling against the back of the sage green armchair he’d been lounging in.

“Don’t answer my question with a question, fox,” she quipped, standing a straighter as she found her courage. Jutting her chin forward, Elain marched into the room.

It made Lucien smile. To have her here. In his room, in his court. In his home.

Getting to that point was no easy task. She was cautious, skeptical, and surprisingly, the most stubborn of all three sisters. It had taken months, years even, from the moment he met her to the day she decided they were friends. Of course, a little danger and the heavy potential for death tended to bring to light long buried things.

After Koschei, after nearly dying in her arms, Lucien found that Elain did have feelings for him. Though even now, they spent time most of their time dancing around each other. She was just more likely to join him on his trips and whims now then to let him leave without her.

She’d arrived in Day just that morning, coming ahead of the rest of the Night Court for the wedding. Tomorrow, his mother would marry Helion. His place would be solidified and legitimized in the Day Court. Elain would be beside him through it, had insisted she be there. The knowledge thrilled him.

He questioned why she’d arrived so early, and she’d brushed him off. Claiming a desire to assist his mother before the wedding, as well as keep the hot-blooded Vanserra’s calm.

“We make a good team,” she’d claimed. “And I know this is going to be awkward and overwhelming for you. To go from exiled seventh son of one high lord to the heir and prince of another, and teammates stick together.”

Lucien had only given her a hug, because it might have been the nicest thing she’d ever done for him outside of saving his sorry ass, and then whisked her off to wherever Sylva was fretting. He’d spied her flitting from room to room, but hadn’t been able to talk to her until now.

Lucien thought for a moment, tapping his long fingers against his chin. “I supposed it’d be … century eggs.”

It was Elain’s turn to quirk her head. Golden-brown hair tumbled over her shoulder, her robe shifting with it. Lucien struggled to keep his eyes on her face and off the sun-kissed skin revealed.

She’d be the death of him one day. Though he knew he’d die a happy man.

“100-year-old eggs?” Elain asked skeptically. The peach-colored robe dipped a little further, exposing a delicate collarbone.

Lucien wanted to dip his head and run his tongue across the exposed skin. His instincts riding him to taste, taste, taste. He adjusted his stance, crossing his legs as he reclined on the back of the chair. One hand gripped the wooden frame to give him some grounding, while the other pushed his hair off his face.

“No, not a hundred years old,” Lucien answered, his voice just a touch strained. He watched her pink lips purse as he spoke. “Though, they are left to ferment for one hundred days.”

Those full lips twisted into a snarl, adorable nose scrunching up in disgust. “Why is it called a century egg then?” she retorted, crossing her arms in front of her. The movement pushed her small breasts upward.

Lucien stole a glance before shaking his head trying to dislodge the lewd thoughts trying to surface.

“I don’t have an answer for that,” he admitted. Elain sighed and walked around his sitting room.

“What is it, exactly?” she asked while perusing one of his bookshelves, running her fingers lightly across the spines.

“An egg,” Lucien laughed. Elain threw him a look over her shoulder. He winked his good eye and shot her a smile back. “One that’s fermented for 100 days until it turns black.”

“Ugh, why?” she groaned. She pulled a book from the shelf whose spine had little green vines decorating it and flipped it open.

It was a book of the horticulture of Scythia. It depicted the native plants and flowers of the small southern kingdom. Vassa thought Elain would enjoy it, and thus gave it to Lucien.

“Probably started from someone just trying to survive and evolved into a delicacy,” Lucien shrugged. “It tastes about as gross as it sounds, I promise.”

‘Where did you try one?” she asked, fingers running over the pages. She had that cute little crease in her nose when she concentrated hard. Lucien watched her do it often when they were in Spring, trying to convince a sullen Tamlin that yes, he had to deadhead the roses.

“Dawn,” he replied easily. “They hail from the continent, originally. From Xian, though several street vendors sell them in the market district, if you’d like to try one for yourself next time we go.”

“No thank you!” Elain squeaked, slamming the book closed. “I have no desire to eat a black fermented egg.”

Lucien laughed “Then why did you ask?”

The faintest hint of a blush creeped over Elain’s skin, over that collarbone, up her neck. Lucien tracked it like a predator tracking prey.

It was intoxicating. He wanted to lick the trail up the side, bite at her pulse point until she was as breathless as he felt. He wanted --

“There’s still a lot to learn about each other,” she whispered softly, interrupting his thoughts. He watched her nose flare slightly, breathing in.

Shit. He could smell his own arousal beginning to saturate the air around them. She had to be scenting him.

Lucien nodded tightly. “True, very true,” he murmured. His chest thrummed, the mating bond tugging on him. Taste, claim, mate. His cock twitched to life in his trousers. He wanted to give in. Let go and think with his lesser brain. Things were so…good between them.

He couldn’t risk it. Precisely because things were so good between them. He couldn’t push her. She didn’t want the bond. Not yet. In all their time together, they hadn’t broached that subject. Still a sore point he supposed.

That sobered him a bit.

Elain brushed a thick strand of golden curls behind her ear. She put the book back on the shelf and turned, a small smile on her face.

“Mine’s nowhere near as exciting. It’s celery,” she said, fixing the robe over her shoulder. Lucien fought back his frown. “It just tastes like stringy watery weeds. I hate it.”

“Duly noted,” he nodded. “My favorite is —”

“An apple tart sprinkled with cinnamon and a strong cider for the drink,” she finished with a grin. “Remember Eris’ birthday?”

Lucien’s face lit up at the memory. Elain had thrown the newly crowned high lord a birthday party during their trip to Autumn, and Eris kindly repaid her by getting Lucien so shitfaced he stood on the tables singing bawdy tavern songs and eating apple tarts and performing like a court jester.

“I remember nothing,” he lied with a grin.

Elain threw her head back with a warm laugh that wrapped itself around his heart. It was enough to bring Lucien to his knees if he’d let it.

“If I recall,” he continued, basking in the glow of her smile “you both conspired against me that night.”

“I seem to recall a certain emissary who couldn’t hold his liquor eating about twelve of those tarts before they came back up,” she teased, close enough now she poked his chest with one delicate finger. On instinct Lucien grabbed her wrist with one of his larger hands, holding it there.

“I can hold my liquor just fine. It’s not quite as easy when I’m drinking for you as well. Or did you think I wouldn’t notice you slipping me your whiskey every time one of my brothers refilled it?” Lucien smirked.

Elain opened her hand until her palm rested against his chest. The linen of his shirt was thin, her hand burning a hole through to his heart. She looked up at him with doe eyes, lips still pulled into a smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, my lord,” she said, voice breathy and light.

Lucien held her there, so close that one step and they’d be flush against each other. They’d been here before. That night in Autumn. Lucien, blitzed off fire whiskey and faerie wine, had decided to give in, to go for it. He’d followed her back to her rooms, stood just like this before her. Ready to give her everything. He’d believed she wanted it then too, with her face turned up eyes wide and wet lips parted, or at least the alcohol let him think it. But before he could taste those sweet lips –

“Are you going to puke on my shoes this time too?” Elain asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she fisted her tiny hand in his shirt. He opened his mouth to argue when it hit him in the chest.

A sweet, musky scent right under the jasmine and honey. She was aroused. As soon as he released the groan that had been building, Elain ripped on the bond between them until he nearly fell into her. He had to wrap his arms around her to steady himself. Elain wound both hands into the collar of his tunic.

“Tell me to leave,” she whispered against his chest. Lucien leaned down, running his nose through her hair, drunk off the clean scent of her. He barely ghosted his lips over the gentle arch of her ear.

“Do you want me to?” he whispered into that soft ear. She shuddered and shook her head against his chest. “Then stay, Elain. Please.”

Lucien gently cupped the side of her face with one large hand, the other sliding up her back to pull her closer until there was no room between their bodies. Her soft flesh gave against his hard muscle.

Elain let him tilt her head up, lips parting as she drew in a ragged breath. Her arousal was so potent he wanted to drown in it. Wanted to breath it in until all he could smell was his mate wanting him.

“Lucien…”

The sound of his name on her lips did him in. He leaned down, intending their first kiss to be gentle, just a brush of lips before he devoured her whole. Elain had other plans. She rose up and crashed her lips against his. He rocked back with the force of it, taking it all and moving against her.

Her fingers ran a trail up from his chest to his hair and buried themselves, holding him against her as she licked the seam of his lips. He parted them quickly, taking the opportunity to meet her tongue as it delved into his mouth. All thought escaped him at that first taste of her. His mind that had been running with a thousand questions just…stopped.

He devoured her. Pressing hard, scraping his teeth along her tongue, licking the inside of her mouth like he was trying to memorize it. She met him blow for blow. Nip for nip. Hands flying across his body, nails gently scraping against his shirt and skin.

Finally, Elain withdrew just enough to wrap her lips around the tongue in her mouth and suck, flicking the tip of it with her own tongue. Like a promise, for what could come. He moaned obscenely into that mouth. There wasn’t a drop of blood left in the rest of his body. His cock held on to that promise and began to throb, screaming at him.

Lucien wrapped her curls around one hand and pulled until she had to release him, a pathetic little moan slipping from her lips. Her eyes were wild with want. She liked her hair pulled. He put that away for later.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he began, “but where did that come from?”

Fear flooded her eyes, replacing the desire that had just burned him. Idiot, you fucking idiot, his cock threatened mutiny. Elain began to pull away as her hands fell to her side.

“I-I’m so--”

“No,” he interrupted. He adjusted his grip, holding her tighter, giving her no room to escape. His erection dug into her hip. “Never apologize to me, Elain. I’m just…confused. Very fucking happily confused.”

“You’re an idiot,” she whispered. “That’s what you are.”

“Certifiably, sweetheart,” he chuckled. He dip his head to her neck and placed a gentle kiss there before looking back into her eyes. She watched him, half wary. “Still waiting on that answer though.”

Elain ducked her head into his chest, mumbling something incoherent. Though he could make out the word mistake.

Lucien’s heart dropped. Of course, she’d think it was a mistake. He made to drop his hands and step away. “I don’t want to be your mistake, Elain,” he hissed, a little harsher than he meant.

Her hands gripped his biceps and dug in. He met her eyes, surprised to see fear mingled with the silver tears. He lifted a hand to brush them away before they fell, the pad of his thumb resting on her cheek.

“You could never be a mistake, Lucien. You’re my choice,” Elain nearly choked out the admission. “I’ve wanted this for months. I was just…was trying to say — “

“I don’t give a fuck,” Lucien growled. He grabbed at her with more force than he meant, both hands enveloping her entire head, and crushed his lips to hers.

If he’d thought he was devouring her before, it was nothing on that moment.

The thread in his ribs sang out, going taut and…thickening? He’d try to decipher it but Elain gasped so deliciously and that was his opening. His tongue delved into her mouth once more, fucking her mouth like he would her cunt just as soon as she let him. It took Elain all of a breath to regain herself and match him.

The kiss was wild, all tongue and teeth. He was a madman. He lived and died in the space between their mouth. She bit his lip hard enough to bring blood and the taste of himself mixed with her broke him. He slid his hands under the curve of her perfect little ass and dug in, lifting her. His mouth slid from hers long enough for him to bury his face in her neck, sucking and biting the pulsing flesh there.

Lucien’s stumbled across the room as Elain’s fingers threaded through hair, pulling at the scalp. With little urging, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her robe riding up around her thighs. Lucien immediately took advantage of the exposed skin, shifting his grip until he could run calloused hands over the smooth skin revealed. She ground her hips against his erection and growled.

Elain growled at him.

Lucien was a goner. He bit her then, hard and claiming, the taste of blood filling his mouth. Elain made some noise between a whimper and a moan that stilled him. Then her hand was there on his head, urging him to continue. So he did. Licking, biting, sucking his way back up to her face. No one in his entire existence had tasted like this, had felt like this. He could come from her lips on his alone. From the feel of her heat so close to his cock. They’d barely done more than made out and he was undone. He felt like a boy groping his first pair of tits.

Speaking of, he’d yet to actually feel his mate’s breasts.

He sat on the bed, Elain straddling his lap. His hands immediately fell on her breasts over her robe. They fit so perfect in the palm of his hands, so pliant and warm. His thumbs teased and pulled at the still covered nipple. He wanted to throw her down, rip the robe from her and put his mouth on them. He broke the kiss finally, pulling her hair back, exposing the long length of her neck, already bruising from his ministrations.

Good he wanted his mark on her.

His lips immediately went to the dip of her collarbone, that damned thing that had been teasing him from behind that robe. He kissed once, twice before licking his way up her neck.

Elain kept her head thrown back in both ecstasy and submission to his hand on her breast. She ground down, straight onto his weeping, throbbing cock and moaned at the friction. Lucien whimpered, his control nearly a forgotten memory.

He let go of her breasts, hands finding the end of her robe and nightgown as he began to bunch it together, intending to rip it off her, when small hands stopped him. Disoriented, he pulled away from her. Her pupils were blown, the black covering the brown. Her cheeks were ruddy, breath coming in hot pants on his face.

Elain shook her head once. Lucien stopped immediately, bringing his hands to her back just to hold her.

“No?” His voice was low, rugged. He’d stop. He’d set her down, tuck her in his bed, go straight to the bath and stay there all night if she wished.

Elain, the tease, rocked against him again, hard. They both moaned, gasping for air as Lucien rested his forehead on hers.

“No,” she breathed out finally, stopping her hips. Lucien made to move her but Elain once again threaded her hands in his hair. This time she gripped it by the root and pulled his throat to her mouth, where she began biting all along the base.

Lucien’s eyes rolled up in his head. “Elain… you’re giving me very mixed signals here,” he growled out, head lolling to the side while she mouthed at his neck. He was going crazy, bathing in the scent of her arousal while she bit and pushed him away.

Elain slowed her kissing, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “You taste so …good,” she groaned into his skin. “It’s so hard to stop. Is it the bond? Is that what makes you so …delicious?”

Lucien chuckled, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down her spine. She was trembling, the poor thing. “No,” he whispered. “I just taste that fucking good.”

Elain laughed into his neck, her breath tickling him. The vibration of her laugh shook her core, and his cock, embarrassingly hard and wedged between them. If she did that one more time, he’d come in his pants. He was already weeping so much his linen pants were ruined.

“I’m not ready to… lie with you,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Then don’t,” he said into her hair, stilling running his hand along her spine. “There’s no rush.”

“You aren’t upset?” she looked up at him, eyes big and hopeful. How could he be upset with her? She could do nothing but kiss him like that for the rest of their lives and he’d take it.

“Of course not. I will be elated with whatever you choose to share. I am just happy to be here with you,” he acknowledged softly. “It is a far cry from you running from the room when I enter.”

She batted at his chest with an indignant yelp. “I can still run you know.”

Lucien tightened his hold slightly, just enough to draw her attention. “Run this time, little fawn and I’ll chase you,” he teased, nipping at her nose. She squeaked.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he stated, stroking her cheek with one long finger. “So…months, huh?”

Elain blushed. “Yes,” she admitted. “Since before Autumn at least, though I think it was then that I realized what exactly I wanted.”

“Which is what, Elain?” Lucien asked, half afraid of the answer.

Elain smiled, holding his face between her hands. “For now, I want to sleep in your bed. If that’s ok?”

Lucien quirked a brow, then stood, still holding her tight to him. “You have to go to your side, I’m very partial to this side,” he said as explanation while walking around the bed.

“My side?”

He nodded. “Been reserved for you for a while.”

He gently lowered her to the bed, brushing the hair from her forehead with one hand while the other pulled the coverlet up.

“Oh?” she smiled as she settled into the pillow.

“Yeah,” he grinned. He reached for her hand as he knelt by the bed. “I’m sorry…I got carried away,” he apologized, squeezing her much smaller hand in both of his.

Elain raised one eyebrow incredulously. “Luicen, I attacked your face with my mouth.” His grin widened. “I wanted it. I still want it. There’s just…I want to do this my way. Can you give that to me?”

Lucien nodded. “There’s no limit to what I can give you.”

He’d meant it to be a romantic gesture, but perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say. Elain rose off the pillow so quickly she nearly crashed into his chin. “Will you give me my own Pegasus?”

He roared a laughed. “What the hell would you do with a Pegasus?”

“I’d love him, of course,” she sniffed. “Besides it would make Nesta so incredibly jealous she’d probably scream.”

“Why Elain Archeron, you do have a little wicked in you, don’t you?” Lucien teased, brushing a kiss to her temple. He’d have to talk with Helion, find some way to wheedle or beg but Elain would get her Pegasus.

“A lady never tells,” she giggled. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Ah…not right now,” Lucien stammered. He could feel his dark skin turning a little red. He was still painfully, glaringly hard. If he didn’t take care of it now, he’d likely wind-up covering them both in his own spend in his sleep. After which, he’d have to walk off the highest cliff he could find and pray the cauldron let him have a quick death.

“I need a quick bath. To cool off,” he offered as explanation, resting his forehead to hers. “I’ll be right back. If you want me to.”

“You’ll stay with me?” She asked softly. He nodded.

“Of course, love.”

Lucien stood and turned to walk to the en suite, trying to hide the wet tent in his pants.

“Think of me in here!” Elain called out before the door closed.

***

Her side of the bed was empty, cold, her scent lingering on the sheets, his skin. He had taken a deep breath that morning, drinking the remnants of her in. Had he chased her off? If the way she was clinging to him through the night were indication, he’d say no.

Still, Lucien had woken up alone.

She had missed the entire ceremony.

He’d thought perhaps she went to join her family. The guests had started arriving that morning. Though she seemed ready to be with him, perhaps she still wanted to hide their budding…whatever from her family.

Still, she promised to be there for him. They were a team.

But Feyre had glided in on Rhysand’s arm, as lovely as ever in a gown of rich purples. Nesta and Cassian had arrived shortly after, each holding onto one of Morrigan’s toned arms. Elain was nowhere in sight.

Neither was the shadowsinger. Which had been a source of petty joy for Lucien until he began to wonder if perhaps that was the reason for his mate’s absence. Had Azriel held her up? Found her in some corner waiting for her family only to scent Lucien on her and whisk Elain away for safety.

Lucien had never forgotten how the winged male had actively pursued his mate. He’d tried not to hold it against the entire court, who had dangled Elain in front of him whilst one of their own slipped in behind him. Elain was free to make her own choices after all.

She still was.

Lucien growled, unable to control the slant of his thoughts.

The wedding was long over. Helion and his mother had quite literally ridden off into the sunset on the back of a pegasus while the partygoers were instructed to dance, drink, and revel for as long as they pleased.

And Elain wasn’t there.

It drove Lucien so deep in his cups he couldn’t remember his own count, nor the name of the female with the big green eyes currently trying her best to flirt with him. His mind was wrapped up too deeply with thoughts of his missing mate. Turi maybe? Yuri?

Where the hell was she? Had she already changed her mind? Was he cursed to a miserable life without her after having just learned how she tasted, the beginnings of the sounds she makes. And if that bat had her tied up…

Politics be damned, he’d gut him. Hang his wings and head from the top of the palace.

Down killer, Feyre chuckled into his mind. He tried to resist the urge to flinch and wound-up swaying on his feet. Her name’s Illya by the way. How’d you fuck that up so bad?

Lucien groaned. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

Green eyes narrowed; her painted brows furrowed together. “You’re not even listening,” she hissed with a thick accent, punctuating it with what he was sure were curses in a different language before turning heel and running off.

“That went well,” Feyre mocked. She sidled up beside him, glass of wine in hand.

Lucien tried to glare at her. At least, he was pretty sure he picked the right High Lady – there were three of them standing beside him after all. They all looked him up and down in unison. As the newly crowned Prince of Day, he had a loose robe draped across his chest, pinned over one shoulder with a golden brooch shaped like a burning sun – clothes fitting his father’s court. He wore green linen pants under the robe, however. He wasn’t sure his cock would behave around Elain, and he wanted the extra fabric between them.

A lot of use they turned out to be.

“Pretty sure you’re going to have whiskey dick at this point, my friend,” Feyre nodded to his cup before taking a sip of her own. Lucien snarled. Or, tried to, but it came out half strangled by the burp that overtook it. “Classy.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” he slurred. It had been a long day and was becoming a longer night. He needed to sit down. Jerk himself to the memory of Elain’s tits bouncing in his face until he was raw and go to sleep.

“Ugh, I do not want that image in my head,” Feyre groaned, shaking her head as if it would dislodge the thought.

“Don’t go where you’re not welcome.”

“True,” she nodded. “But I was worried about you.”

Lucien slid his eyes over to his friend as he tried to grin to the one in the middle. He was pretty sure that one was actually Feyre. They were standing outside the main party, the ballroom still full despite the late hour. Cassian and Nesta were spinning in circles so tight and neat in the center of the dance floor that Lucien felt motion sick from the sight alone.

He looked away. Everyone was smiling. Happy. Enjoying themselves.

Why couldn’t he?

“Because you’re in love,” Feyre answered his thought with a whisper.

Lucien cut back to her. “I thought I just said stay out of there.”

She shrugged, completely unconcerned with the boundary she was crossing. “Still worried, Lucien. Besides I have permission.”

His mechanical eye whirred at that, tightening in on her aura. She didn’t have any unusual wards on her, nothing outside the ordinary for foreign dignitaries. At least, he was pretty sure of that. He was only 75% certain he was even staring at the right Feyre, the three fae heads still dancing in front of him. “From who,” he slurred again. “I didn’t give you any permission.”

“From me,” a soft voice came from behind him. “I asked her to.”

Lucien whipped around, swaying so hard Feyre and Elain both had to reach out and catch him to keep him upright.

“Are you alright?” Elain said softly. He couldn’t answer, couldn’t move or breathe. His heart was thundering in his chest.

She was here.

Elain was here.

Finally.

He drank in the sight of her. She was glowing. Her long golden hair swept over one shoulder, one side of it with three little braids behind her ear — the exact way he wore his hair. Golden earrings dangled from her arched ears, little suns dancing by her long neck. She was wearing a beautiful, muted orange. A long gown, tight through the bodice and embroidered with tiny crimson leaves. The skirt slit all the way to her hip, showing miles of creamy white skin — scandalous. She was wearing the laced up sandals common in Alexandrina. She was dressed in Day Court style…in Autumn colors.

Lucien was speechless.

“I was going to see if you wanted to go for a walk, but…” Elain trailed off, making an exaggerated effort to look him over. She still held him by one arm, Feyre clutching the other between her tattooed arms. “What happened to you?”

“You missed the wedding,” Feyre answered for him. She was straining to hold in a smile.

Shock seemed to register on Elain’s face before she contained it, her mouth twitched. One delicate brow rose above those beautiful doe eyes. “You’re drunk? Because of me?”

Lucien could feel his face heating. He nodded his head in an attempt to shake out the cobwebs.

“Absolutely hammered,” he admitted sheepishly, leaning a bit more into her touch. He needed it. Needed the confirmation she was real and not a fever dream brought on by three full bottles of fire whiskey — and two bottles of wine. “I…didn’t think you were coming back.”

“He thought you were fucking Azriel,” a deep voice interrupted with glee. Lucien cursed.

“Rhysand!” Feyre admonished. She let go of Lucien to slap her mate’s chest with one tattooed hand. Lucien swayed before wrapping his arm around Elain. He pulled her close and tried to hold his own weight but his legs kept struggling. Elain bore the weight with a small smile.

Rhys’s feline grinned widened as his eyes glazed over from whatever Feyre must’ve told him mind to mind. He focused those violet eyes on Lucien. “I was stopping by to …”

“Be a nosy fucker,” Feyre hissed. Takes one to know one, Lucien thought loudly. He wasn’t quite sure how it worked but with the look the high lady shot him, he was certain his message got through.

“Extend an offer to return to Velaris for the evening,” Rhys continued, his grin never faltering. “The townhouse is empty. Mor tells me that Helion is planning…something for his sunrise return. And this party is one more tango from devolving into an open-air orgy. I thought I’d offer you an opportunity to escape.”

Lucien opened his mouth to…disagree he thought. At least to tell Rhysand where to shove it when Elain began nodding, vigorously.

“I didn’t…consider that,” she whispered. Then she stuck up her chin. “Yes, I think we’d like that.”

We? She caught Lucien’s gaze. “Right, Lucien?”

He’d follow her to hell if she asked. He meant to tell her. To say something profound and romantic. How he was hers to command, her loyal servant. Wherever she would go he would follow.

“I’m yours.” Well, that worked.

Elain’s answering smile was…everything.

Once, when he was a boy, his mother took him to a little cabin by the ocean. They slipped out in the earliest hours so he could dip his feet in the cool water and watched the sun rise over the waves. She held him tightly as they watched the stars blink out, one by one, the sky fade from darkest purple to orange to the brightest blue he’d ever seen.

In all his years, that was the moment he felt most loved. Even with Jesminda. Even with his friends and family.

Until Elain smiled at him.

“Fantastic. Feyre darling?”

“I’ll take Elain. You can winnow the drunk home,” she declared, reaching for her sister’s arm. Elain gave him one last lingering look, and then they were gone.

Lucien’s thundering chest guttered at that.

Winnowing when drunk had always been a nightmare. Something about folding the world while the senses were out of commission made him feel like he’d been dragged behind a horse running circles. Even just going across the room made him ill.

Across the courts? His clothes were not making it out of this clean.

Vomit on me Little Lucien, and I assure you, I will return the favor, Rhys’ smooth voice purred in his head.

Sympathetic puker?

A dark chuckle. Ask Cassian.

Rhys stepped up and offered his hand to Lucien at arm's length.

“Sure you don’t want to hold me a little tighter?” Lucien crooned, taking the offered hand. “What if you drop me?”

“Shit floats,” Rhys smirked. The High Lord of Night gave no warning before Lucien’s world tilted sharply.

As everything around him folded, trees and lakes and mountains blinked by faster than his eyes could truly process, Lucien held tight to the promise in Elain’s smile. Even as they were deposited in the foyer of the townhouse, and Lucien, golden brown skin turned sickly pale, immediately emptied his stomach onto the hardwood.

“Mind the shoes, please,” Rhys hummed beside him. Lucien, not entirely on purpose, puked again. The resulting splatter hitting Rhys’ black boots.

Feyre laughed somewhere in the townhouse. Lucien righted himself as the door began to open. He shot a panicked glance at Rhysand, who waved his hand nonchalantly, whisking the vomit and its horrendous smell away.

Thank you. He tried to convey.

Rhys inclined his head, a small smile playing on his lips the only indicator that he’d heard Lucien’s thoughts.

“Come on Rhys, let’s get him to the sofa, hmm?” Feyre reached for the unsteady Lucien, who graciously took her offered help. Rhys grabbed his bicep leading them through to the living room where Elain was waiting, a glass of tea in her hand.

“Try not to ruin the upholstery, please,” Rhys pleaded, depositing him on the sofa. Feyre tucked her chin into her mate’s shoulder, but not before Lucien caught the grin she was fighting.

“No promises,” Lucien groaned and settled into the soft cushions. Cauldron, it felt so nice to sit down, even if his head was still spinning so fast he could barely keep up.

“I’ll take care of him,” Elain piped up. Lucien felt her warm presence beside him before he ever opened his eyes. Even without the bond thrumming in his chest he’d know her. Her spirit sang to him.

And here he was, so in love he couldn’t bare it, and too piss-drunk to do anything about it.

Again.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Feyre said softly as she tugged on her mate’s arm. Lucien nodded, the motion setting off another wave of nausea, as they winnowed out.

Leaving him and Elain. Alone.

“Drink this,” his mate urged. She lifted a cup of tea to his lips and gently poured the liquid in as he opened for her. “It’s ginger. It’ll settle your stomach, at least.”

He hummed his gratitude. He kept his eyes firmly screwed shut against the low fae-light in the sitting room. He didn’t imagine this was how tonight would go. He’d hoped that it would end in a bed. Preferably with those long legs wrapped tight around his head, shaking.

Elain nudged at his head derailing his thoughts before they fell any further down the gutter. “Raise up a little…there, now come back,” she instructed as she parked herself on the couch, with his head in her lap.

Her fingers immediately went to his hair and began to brush it out, long strands gliding over her knuckles. It pulled lightly at his scalp, and he purred.

He purred.

Elain chuckled softly, head cocked as their eyes met and held. He’d known people who considered brown eyes ordinary, unremarkable things. No, to Lucien Elain’s deep brown eyes held all the warmth of the earth after a summer rain. They were where life began and ended. Should he be so lucky to spend all his days staring into them.

While he waxed poetic in his drunkenness over the beauty of his mate’s eyes, she began to withdraw. Her hand stilled in his hair. Her eyes began to shine ever so slightly with rising tears. His heart guttered.

No, his Elain wasn’t supposed to be sad. She’d shed enough tears for this life. No more. He had to say something. Do something to stop them.

“Lucien, I’m sorry I …”

“I love you,” Lucien blurted out at the same time.

Okay, not where he meant to go, but there it is.

Elain’s eyes widened, mouth hanging open.

Lucien had always been smooth with his words. It was one of the reasons he was asked to be emissary. He could sway almost anything to his advantage, navigate inter-court relations and politics with ease, and talk his way out of damn near everything.

So, he decided to just keep going.

“I know this has never been easy between us. I know that I’m not what…what you wanted.” He winced. “I know you saw me as a villain at worst, and at best a nuisance. A sword hanging over your head. Something you never wanted but felt chained to from the moment you were poured out of that cauldron. The enemy who stood by while your life, love and everything you knew was taken from you. And I…I could live a thousand lifetimes, Elain, and I’d never be worthy of your forgiveness. Never worthy of you. I’ve always known this, but…all I ever wanted was to get to know you.”

“Lucien…” Elain’s voice was soft, emotion heavy in her throat. Lucien shook his head where it lay on her thighs.

“No, please…just let me get this off my chest.”

She searched his face for a moment before she whispered. “Alright.”

“I was so confused. So on edge, myself. I thought I’d lost my mate years before even your own father was born. I thought I’d never have a chance at that kind of love again. And there you were… all …” he choked, unable to say the words he felt upon seeing Elain poured from that cauldron. Upon the knowledge that he’d had even the slightest hand in it. “I wanted to know you, Elain. All I have ever wanted since the moment you fell out of that cauldron was time. Time to correct my mistakes. Time to beg for forgiveness.” Lucien swallowed, his mouth inexplicably dry. He ripped his chest open, baring all he was to his mate. He only had once chance at this.

And he was shitfaced.

“Mostly, though,” he began again, his voice a tad hoarser, “I wanted time to get to know you, to learn what makes you tick. What drives you to wake up in the morning. Whether you prefer the sunrise to the sunset, and if you take sugar in your tea. And I know… I know when you saw me, you only saw a monster. An unwanted burden.”

Elain began to shake her head, unshed tears threatened to spill over her eyes. Lucien was unable to raise his head up. He was barely holding in his own tears, his heart deafening in his ears. He gently cupped her cheek with one calloused hand.

“Don’t…we both know I was never your first choice Elain. Not even your second. You’ve never…anyway, I know the bond was never what you wanted. And now that I know you, I can’t go back Elain. I can’t go back to the me who never knew your name. But…I would carve out my own heart if you wanted. I’d pack my bags tonight, leave for the continent. Waste away in some village no one has ever heard of. Fuck everything else in this life, Elain. I love you. I live or die by your word, sweetheart. Tell me to go and I’m gone. Tell me to stay…tell me you love me and I will spend every day of –”

“I love you,” she interrupted. Tears flowed freely down her face and dropped on his cheek.

Lucien snapped up though the motion brought a new wave of nausea. He gripped the back of the chair as he searched her face. She was…smiling.

She loved him?

“For cauldron’s sake Lucien the only reason I missed the wedding was because I can’t winnow and you had to pick something so fucking difficult to get ahold of.” The curse rolled off her tongue with an ease that made him giddy. She didn’t speak that freely around the others.

Her words finally registered in his liquor addled brain.

“Huh?” Lucien, who’d given a heartful impromptu speech, was nearly speechless. Maybe he’d passed out when Rhys was winnowing him and this was all some alcohol induced fever dream.

“Oh for crying…this Lucien!” Elain exclaimed, grabbing a small box off the table beside the teacup. How long had that been sitting there?

“I had to ask for Eris’ help to get there and he thought it’d be hilarious to drop me off on the other side of the city. Then I had to hunt down someone willing to show me the right place. I got lost three times. Then getting back was a disaster,” Elain rambled. She paused and took a deep breath.

“I asked you what your least favorite food was for a reason, Lucien,” she said softly as she began to untie the ribbon on the little black box. “This has never been easy for us. You were right, I did see you as a villain. We were raised to fear the fae, that you would steal us away in the night if we weren’t vigilant. We went against what we’d been taught, opened our home to fae and what happened? We were quite literally stolen away in the night. On two different occasions.”

Lucien winced. He so often forgot how it all must’ve been for them. When Feyre was taken by Tamlin, and then Hybern. Shame threatened to overwhelm him, and he must have flooded the bond with it because Elain paused in her unwrapping to lay a hand on his thigh.

“I know now that’s not the case, Lucien,” she said softly. “You never meant us harm. I know that…had you known, you would’ve fought against it with everything you were.”

He could only shrug, his head lolled to the side as the female he loved continued.

“And you are right, I wanted love. I wanted choice. I still do,” she admitted, courage growing as her chin came up. Elain released the ribbon from the box and grabbed his hand. She placed the box in his palm and curled his fingers over the painted wood. “I have made my choice, Lucien. But I need to know you are choosing me, not a mating bond. That you are choosing me for who I am. Not what Hybern made me, not what the cauldron gave me, not what the mother wove between us. I need to know it is Elain Archeron you love.”

She took a deep breath, let go of his hands and stood. She walked to the other side of the room. Her hand came up over her nose.

“What…are you doing?” Lucien asked. The gears in his brain were stalled. They seemed to have slowed from the moment she admitted to loving him. They seized at that knowledge, and that his mate, his love, his life was on the other side of the damned room from him.

He began to lift the lid on the box. Oh fuck.

The smell slammed into his chest like a well-placed punch. What little was left on his stomach well on its way back up. Lucien fought to keep the gag down. His eyes watered from the effort.

“So, I present you that.” Elain’s voice was nasally as she waved her unoccupied hand to the box in his lap. He’d have remarked on how funny it was if he hadn’t been trying so hard to conserve air. “Accept this cauldron-damned abomination, and I will be satisfied for eternity knowing I am so much more to you than a bond. Because only someone in love would weather this disgusting pile of shit, mating bond or not.”

Lucien stared down at the black egg nestled in the bottom of the box. The pungent odor was just as he remembered. He wanted to die then too.

He toggled between staring at the egg and staring at Elain huddled in the corner, both hands now shaking over her face.

She wanted him. She loved him. She accepted the mating bond! No matter it was in the most…unorthodox way possible.

Gods but he loved her.

“You really are a wicked little thing,” was all he managed before he yanked the egg from the box and shoved it in his mouth. He swallowed it whole.

The idea was if he swallowed it whole he wouldn’t taste it. That idea was bullshit.

Lucien felt himself turn green. It was the oddest sensation. It tingled up his spine, up his stomach, alongside that thin bond that was strengthened by the second. He wanted to throw up. The only other time he’d ever eaten a century egg, he’d immediately threw it back up.

He’d be cauldron-damned if he threw it up this time. Lest it unravel that shining golden bond thrumming in his chest. Lucien didn’t know how these things worked. He wasn’t risking it.

“Are you okay?” Elain asked, words muffled behind her hands.

Lucien’s nod was strained. “I think I’m sober now, at least.”

Elain chuckled and braved the still biting odor to come close enough to shut the box up. Immediately the smell lessened, though it lingered in the room like a hateful ghost.

“How?” Lucien managed.

“Bespelled box,” Elain offered. “Eris made it for me this morning when I explained what I was doing.”

Lucien nodded. Every muscle in his body was still tensed. He gripped the couch so hard he could hear the wood groan.

“Lucien are you…” she trailed off and eased onto the cushions. She lay one hand over his on the back of the sofa, the other on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles.

“I’m fine, you beautiful terrorist,” he joked and let go of his grip on the sofa. He grinned at her. “If the trade-off were that all I had to eat for the rest of my life was that fucking thing, I’d do it with a smile on my face as long as it meant I have you.”

All tension released out of her with a sigh. “Thank the mother you don’t, then. You’d grow to hate me.”

Lucien’s smile threatened to split his face. The bond glowed in his chest. “I could never hate you, my love. I would just be very, very skinny.” He leaned in, the need to taste her becoming a living thing in his gut.

Elain shoved him back with impressive force.

“I’m not kissing you until you’ve washed your mouth out!” she exclaimed. “Between the alcohol, the vomit and that thing you could literally peel the paint off the walls, Lucien!”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged as he came to stand. His intention was to go to the washroom, brush his teeth a few dozen times and immediately pounce on his mate. Upon standing, Lucien realized he was not in fact sober, as the ceiling very quickly turned into a roiling sea.

Lucien half-turned to Elain. “Sweetheart, please don’t take this next thing the wrong way.”

“Lucien?”

Lucien dropped to his knees and vomited all over Rhysand’s precious handmade rug from Sangravah. All the whiskey he’d imbibed mixed in the most atrocious way with the century egg, the smell reminiscent of some sulfurous hellscape. It made him hurl again. His stomach contracted painfully as it betrayed him.

He was vaguely aware of the small hands that pulled his hair back at the nape.

“Do you still love me?” She giggled in his ear.

“Ugh,” he moaned. “Were I not about to die, I’d take you to a priestess and wed you tonight.”

Elain laughed. “Maybe in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

#acotar #elucien #elucienweek2023 #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #prompt: mates

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