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#typed out my brain starts doing the song

horsechestnut · 2 years

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I love The Lighting Thief Musical... but it has ruined THE line for me. I keep seeing people making memes about it, but every time I read the line instead of picturing the dark, atmospheric, amazing way Walker says it, my brain automatically goes for the high energy, excited, slightly angry “LOOK!... I didn’t want to a half-blood.” way Chris did it.

#i'm not saying either is better then the other #but every time i see #look i didnt want to be a halfblood #typed out my brain starts doing the song #the lighting thief #the lightning theif musical #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson tv show #percy jackson musical #also everyone's saying how emotional they are to hear it outloud #and i'm like #i've been listening to it for years man #not that i didn't also get emotional at the trailer

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missmielyhoran · 10 months

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He looks up grinning like a devil

your parents think their sweet catholic girl is in the city working as an assistant to big ceo but is she really?

(Sugardaddy!Harry × reader)

A/N- Idk where this came from lmao

[Warning- Smut, if you squint you will find the plot, slight voyeurism, oral (fem receiving), virgin reader, Harry being a dream ngl, daddy kink]

Masterlist

*****

You were skipping up the office stairs leading to the elevator, hands full of shopping bags and lunch from his favorite restaurant you picked up.

You hummed the song you were listening to in the car and greeted everyone back. To everyone, you were Harry's younger beautiful girlfriend or dumb arm candy, as some said, you didn't care. Everyone either wanted to be or have you, and it was thrilling.

You reached on Harry's floor and greeted his assistant, who was a sweet guy looking not much older than you.

You pushed opened the door to Harry's office and saw him typing away on his computer, his blazer thrown over the back of his office chair, his sleeves rolled up and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

You bite down on your lips to not whimper out loud, but the small sound you made got his attention. He smirked, looking up like the devil your parents warned you your whole life about.

Oh, your parents would have a heart attack if they knew.

He raked your whole body up and down. You were wearing the short, flowy red dress he loves. Your hair is half tied up by a ribbon with few in front framing your face and a simple cross laying between your breasts.

"What are you doing so far away babygirl?" Harry said, leaning back in the chair and spreading his thighs more, inviting you in.

You put down the shopping bags near the entrance and walked towards him with the food packets in hand.

"I brought your favorite food" you said, lifting the food packet in the air in front of Harry. He pulled you on his lap and put the food on the desk.

"Thank you so much love but I want to start with desert today" He said as his fingers found his way towards your dripping pussy.

"It will go cold-""I will order another one" He said while nipping on your neck and once his fingers found your clit you forgot about everything that wasn't him.

Harry gently picked you up, and your heel claded legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. He kept nipping on your neck as he put you down on the desk.

His hands worked skillfully as he took off your panties and slid down on his knees, leaving open mouth kisses all over you. You were gasping for air, but he didn't care. He loved it when you let out breathless whimpers.

It was a heavenly torture.

"Always so wet for me, aren't you baby?" He said cockily. He kissed your inner thighs and watched you squim with lust blown eyes.

His thick finger ran up and down your sodden folds while his other hand ran up your body and gripped your chin, keeping your eyes on his.

Keeping the eye contact on he leaned closer and kitten licked your pussy making you let out a small whimper. He grinned like a devil, looking up, and all the hell broke lose in the best way possible.

He sucked on your clit while his middle finger circled your entrance all while his eyes watched all your moves. Then suddenly he pushed whole finger in, in one go making you almost scream out.

"Mr. Styles the papers- Oh my god" You heard someone say behind you but you couldn't have cared less. The person yelled series of sorrys and ran out of the office as fast as they could and you knew you will be the talk of the whole office tomorrow.

You clenached around Harry's finger as he pushed another one in. He chuckled and pulled back from your swollen clit.

"Your virgin little pussy is gripping my fingers you tight. I can't even fathom about how my cock will feel" He said taking eyes off you and watched the mess you were making on his hand.

"You know how many times I have come at night thinking about fucking your brains out." He asked gripping your cheeks so hard they hollow up, your lips part but nothing except airy moans come out.

"You're a mess on my fingers babygirl what will you do if I take you right here? huh?" He said standing up to his full height in front of you and leaned down to capture your lips into a open mouth kiss.

"Good little Christian girl is sitting on a office desk getting finger fucked by her older sugar daddy. What will your parents think?" He shook his head, "Such a whore" He clicked his tongue mocking you.

Meanwhile your eyes were getting blurry and the coil in your stomach was inching to breaking point. It wasn't helping that his words, so sinful words were escalating it.

"Be a whore, my beautiful whore and come on my fingers. Come for daddy babygirl" He said as he increased the pace of his fingers, repeatedly hitting the spot inside you.

And then everything went white, you were floating away on the cloud, angels were singing, and you were in pure ecstasy.

Maybe this was the heaven your mother talked about.

You didn't realize you have lost your balance and was now laying on the cold glass desk of Harry. He pulled his fingers and thank god you were so out you and sucked them clean couldn't see it cause you would have jumped his bones.

After a few moments you came back to duller life and out of you colorful cloudy world.

"There she is. You okay babygirl?" Harry asked as his fingers rubbed circles around your knees in comforting way.

"Yeah" You said breathless, "Very tired" You added. Harry laughed and pulled you off the desk.

"C'mon let's take all this and go home." He said picking up all the bags and lunch and kissed your sweaty forehead.

You smiled and followed him out, and if you weren't so out of it, you would have realized he called his house home for the first time.

*****

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515 @yeehawbrothers @sleutherclaw @ikea2-0 @thechaoticjoy @astridcommings @grapejuicebluesrry @gxbiqs

I know I said I will update stages of grief and I will but I didn't want to leave you guys without anything so here is little something.

I hope you guys liked it and if you did please tell me here♡ I love it when you guys talk to me

Please take care of yourself and drink some water. Love you.

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jeon-ify · 1 month

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| quit staring - song mingi |

synopsis: it wasn’t the cologne or the grey blazer he put on this evening before the show, nor was it the slight gloss in his lips that made you fall into a craze for the entire night. it was the way his blazer was unbuttoned with nothing underneath. it was the way his chest was so plump with pretty muscles, the crevices and slight contours in his collarbones that made you weak in the knees— weak between your thighs.

warnings: sexting, dom!mingi, sub!bratty reader, reader starts staring hella hard at mingi, degradation (slut, whore, bitch), orgasm denial, fingering, car sex (slight), swearing, if i missed anything, you know what to do!

there mingi was; stood over you, reaching to grab something on either side of you. the quick scent of his fresh cotton and sandalwood scent sends a rush through your nostrils, as well as the body oil he’d rubbed on his chest. he knew what he was doing tonight— using your favorite products to get you into bed all over him later.

he leans over to whisper something in your ear that you almost didn’t catch, but you force yourself to understand for the good of the group. “keep staring at me with your jaw on the floor so people won’t think something of it,”

you didn’t realize how hard you’ve been staring, but mingi felt your eyes burning holes through his torso all evening. you can’t help it when all you can think of is his hands around your throat while you ride him all through the night.

“i wasn’t staring. and you smell good so its hard not to look,” you whisper back. departing with a smirk, he takes his assigned seat across from you. your thighs nearly clench on their own, unaware of your surroundings.

the conversations and soft music continues to flood the room, as your thoughts continue to flood your brain and trying to control yourself becomes harder by the minute.

you finally decide to make a move on your boyfriend because it can’t keep going on like this. at this rate, if you stand up someone will find a patch of your juices on the chair and a wet stain on the back of your dress.

you turn on your phone and look to your left and right, making sure no one is looking at what you’re about to send.

to: my man

please

i need to go home

my man:

Stop staring at me

No im jp

Whats up? Talk to me

to: my man

i want you inside of me

like all the way inside pls

want u to bend me in half and fuck me

knock my lights out im so fr

with the last of your foul messages to mingi, he looks around and glances at you, smirking before shooting his next few texts.

my man:

Yeah? Do i look that good?

Think u deserve a good pounding from how you controlled yourself all night

Dont u think?

your thighs clench and your heart drops to your ass at the texts mingi just typed back to you, your cheeks turning a flushed berry red, and your nose becoming shiny from the thin layer of sweat hugging your skin.

to: my man

my god mingi

pls lets go home come up with a shitty excuse

say that ur brother just called

say he needs a ride somewhere

my man:

Needy girl

Okay. I’ll let hwa know.

Can u start my car? My keys are in ur purse

*seen*

your hands fidget with your purse on autopilot, rushing to remote start his car. you cannot wait to get home— the feeling is building up and you hope it’s mutual just so you’d get the fucking of your life tonight. you see mingi talking to seonghwa about wanting to go home and somehow it works. whatever he says makes seonghwa look worried for a second, but mingi ends up fleeing in faux worry. you get up and greet everyone with mingi behind you, watching everyone say their good lucks to mingi. hiding a laugh in your throat, you walk out of the door and hurry to the passenger seat of your boyfriends car. mingi follows suit, sighing the moment he closes his door.

“what’d you tell him that made him look so worried?” you begin.

“i told him my brother got sick and i had to drive him to the hospital. i don’t even have a brother,”

“as long as it worked. now let’s go home please, mingi.” the car doesnt move, mingi’s tongue pokes through his cheek as he smirks at you, watching the way your thighs clench and your breathing picks up. he breathes out a small chuckle, almost mocking your neediness. “you just can’t wait, can you?”

“no, baby. i can’t, i’ve waited all day.” your breath hitches in your throat when mingi’s long fingers graze through your inner thighs and up your skirt. he tips his head up to face you, planting a kiss on your chin. he moves his fingers up, pushing your panties to the side and sliding a finger between your folds. he rubs up and down, eliciting a couple gasps and moans from you.

“this what you wanted, y/n?” he stares lasers into your face, distracting you from his thick index and middle fingers plunging into your sopping hole. he curls them, pulling the strings of your orgasm and threatening to ruin his expensive custom leathered seats. “oh my g- slow down! i can’t—“ his fingers move at an ungodly pace, making you oh so overwhelmed with how powerful your orgasm is about to be from his fingers alone. when he doesn’t get the response he anticipates, he lands a harsh slap on your clit making you yell.

“that wasn’t my question. is this what you wanted so bad in front of my friends? what if someone saw the dirty texts you were sending me, hm? would you want that?”

just when you’re about to cum, mingi snatches his fingers out of you, pressing the brake and shifting gears to begin driving home. “if you complain about not cumming, you’ll never see the end of it, am i clear?”

“yes,” you breathe out, fixing your panties and trying to calm yourself to the best of your abilities.

the ride becomes slower and more dreadful, waiting to get home to finally reach an orgasm.

after what feels like hours, you arrive home and rush up the stairs to your bedroom, quickly undressing, waiting for mingi to see you ready for him. you hear his footsteps walking up the stairs, inching closer to the bedroom. he locks the door behind him as if anyone were to walk in.

“if you weren’t my girl, i’d think you were a whore. take your bra off.” the words mingi says to you never fail to make you feel like the smallest of the small, and never fail to make your panties wet. you almost drool on yourself, feeling how his sharp cat-like eyes watch your body move and your tits bounce with the moves you make. he undresses himself and hovers over you, grabbing your leg and putting it over his torso. he plants kisses on your neck, up to your jaw and beginning a hot makeout. your tongue explores every inch of his mouth, sucking and breathing in his venom.

“fuck, mingi. please do something.” he continues to grind over your heat, rubbing against your black laced panties. your wet cunt is visible to him through the lace, making his breath pick up. he leans down to suck a generous amount of skin on your right nipple, making your back arch upwards. he sucks and sucks like his life depended on it, blowing on the spot and sending chills through your chest.

“yeah? want me to be rough with you? think you deserve a good pounding after what you did to me at dinner today?” he brings his fingers down to your clit, rubbing quickly before unnoticingly pushing his fat cock into your hole. you try to answer him by apologizing, but you need a moment to adjust to his size.

“fuck! fuck!” you scream out as he straightens himself upwards and has your legs on his shoulders. he pounds into you quicker, not giving you a moment to relax. it’s skin on skin and it’s raw. his tip is kissing your cervix, making your thighs shake on his chest.

“there you go, pounding you like the good bitch you are. gonna knock you up, yeah? wanna walk around with my babies in you?”

beads of sweat begin to form on the base of his chest and the corners of his forehead, making you clench around him. he feels your orgasm approaching, making him slow his thrusts just to bother you.

this fucker.

“faster, mings.” you moan and cry in hopes that he’ll let you cum, but…

“you’re not cumming yet. i’m cumming first tonight, i deserve it.”

“i can’t hold it mingi please please please!” his pace quickens at an ungodly speed, making you fall silent and mingi groaning and whimpering at the feeling. your stomach clenches and mingi continues his abuse on your pussy.

“fuck, oh my god, baby. should have a gangbang from how good this pussy is. wanna share my bitch with my crew, yeah?” he leans down and lands a slap on the right side of your face, making your eyebrows furrow and your lips out from how fucking good your boyfriend is pounding you. the thought of a gangbang makes your pussy clench again around him, making his eyes darker and his chest heave.

“what a whore. wanna fuck my friends and show off what’s mine? you’re not even ashamed?” he grabs your jaw and makes you look into his eyes.

“n-no, just w-want you to fuck me. i live for you, i’m yours to use.”

“good girl, finally your brain works,” his cock throbs in your heat as his thrusts become shallow and slower. your eyes roll back as you try to hold your orgasm again.

“can i cum? please please please can i cum?” you beg, holding his hand and begging for a release.

“cream on my cock, pretty. let me feel you.”

“th-thank you! fuckkk,” it feels like you’re floating when your orgasm finally reaches and you let all go. mingi stops while he’s still in you, waiting for you to calm down before he shoots his load into you.

“gonna take a picture of my cum in you and send it to the groupchat. how’s that sound?”

—————————————————————————————

#kpop smut #ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san #mingi ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #song mingi #song mingi x y/n

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dearreader · 1 month

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k so i made this poll awhile ago to answer my question on if people would rather spend a date with a swiftie or an anti-swiftie (someone who hates her and devotes their life to hating on her). i mentioned i didn’t have the spoons to handle it being longer than a day and know it was going to be biased as it would start in my circle and would work it’s way out, so i wanted to do a longer poll when i had the energy to handle a week long poll like that. (i’m assuming when i post this, as i’m pre making it, i’ll be in recovery from my nose surgery since i’ll be stuck at home a week so i’ll have more time to monitor and look at the tags)

so nows the time, but i’m going to addendum the question a bit:

*some extra things that came up on the original poll i didn’t elaborate on fully that i want to make clear:

- you don’t get a say in what type of swiftie you get. assume that you’re going to be spending the evening with someone who massively loves her and her music and wants to discuss it. they’ll talk about songs, their favorite lines and meanings, symbolism behind the reputation album, etc.

- YOU MUST TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT. even if it’s the anti-swiftie you must talk about her. i understand the sentiment people made on her not coming up, and that’s valid, but that’s not the question i’m asking. YOU HAVE TO SPEND THE EVENING WITH SOMEONE WHOS GOING TO TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT NONSTOP, WILL IT BE THE LOVER OR HATER?

- im just trying to gather a general consensus on this and want to get data from a lot of people which means this is going to end up on people’s blogs who probably hate swifties and are annoyed by them. that’s okay as that’s the point of my question. but if you’re going to go off in the tags about how much you hate her or hate swifties and be an asshole about it im blocking you. you can just simple say “i hate her/i hate swifties” and don’t need to elaborate. you don’t need to sit in the tags going off on how much you hate her and trying to “defend” yourself from swifties. i just want an answer to the question.

- ALSO, this is not an open poll to go harass anyone in general. if you are a swiftie and see an hater in the tags and wanna fight DON’T FUCKING DO IT. just block and go read/watch your favorite media and think of blorbos kissing or whatever, but DO NOT SEND HATE OR HARASS ANYONE.

the hypothesis im trying to prove is that people in general would much rather spend an evening with someone that is going to talk about something they love all night vs someone who will spend the evening talking about something they hate. i want to gather as much data as possible to get a good consensus and if you go and be an asshole to someone because of their tags on this poll, either side of the swiftie to anti-swiftie spectrum, your disproving the point. if you see tags you don’t like just simply block and carry on. understand? k good.

- in general this is not meant to be a very serious or heavy question. it’s meant to just let me pick people’s brains and see what they’d want to do. i just want to get my results and go. just vote, drop your opinion in the tags, and go.

- also, this last part is silly and not at all related to my data, but since i’m forcing you on a dinner date i’ll at least let you pick the restaurant and food you have. so if you could also say what restaurant/food choice you’d want and what you’d want to order i’d love to hear it. sky’s the limit here. go nutz or even very specific on what you’d want to eat. i am trying to learn to cook and don’t know a lot of recipes or different food types, so i’m hoping this will give me a bigger idea of what food is out there to make. (this question is not meant to be a way to stick it to anyone or for you to go “i’ll go to a shitty ass restaurant and take a swiftie/anti-swiftie and make them eat garbage 🤪”, it’s just a fun question to give people something positive to add to the poll if they want. AGAIN IF YOUR GOING TO BE AN ASSHOLE ILL BLOCK YOU.)

- i’m going to be annoying and ask that you reblog for a wider sample size and such, if you don’t want to that’s fine, but i’m going to be polite and ask you nicely.

that should be everything, thank you for reading my long ass list and voting in this poll. i hope you have a good day and such.

#kelly babels #polls #taylor swift

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eraenaa · 2 months

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Casual

Inspired by the song "Casual" by Chappell Roan

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You would settle for causality as long as you had Rafe by your side.

Warnings: ¿Angst?, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F receiving), Fingering, Choking, Not Proofread

Word Count: 2,126

A little break from Aemond fics because I just recently watched an obscene amount of Rafe edits, and now I'm obsessed.

“Rafe… fuck, Rafe,” you called— cried as he was stated between your legs. Your lusted eyes warily scanned the outside, mortified by the idea of you two being caught in such a state. “Shh… I’m doing my best work here,” He hummed and nipped the inside of your thigh, making you whimper. Your hands tangled in his hair, your lips were in between your teeth as his fingers slipped in and out of you, his ring adding a sense of coolness that only aided you in pleasure. “We—we might get caught!”You shirked as his lips sucked on your nubbin. “I really don’t fucking care, baby,” Rafe growled and nuzzled his face closer to your cunt.

You gasped and took hold of the grab handle of his truck as his fingers curled at the familiar sensation of you peaking was about to break. “Rafe!” You cried, and he just chucked and continued to draw circles on your clit, waiting for you to come undone on his lips. “Fuck you always taste so good,” he groaned as he lapped your cunt, and you tried to catch your breath. You slumped on the passenger seat, your back resting on the door and your head leaning against the fogged window. You sighed as his lips met yours, tasting yourself on his tongue while his hand went to cup your breast under your shirt. “We could have gotten caught,” You say against his lips when both of you parted for air. “So what? Let them see how great I am at eating you out,” he said with a sly smirk, enjoying the way your cheeks would flush and your gaze would bashfully go downward.

Rafe chuckled and kissed your cheek before settling himself in his seat and starting the engine of his truck. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he said, resting his large hand on your thigh. “Or would you rather go back to mine?” He asked, and you shook your head at his teasing tone. “I can’t. My parents are expecting me for dinner,” You said and stared at his hand on your thigh; it was odd that you found that part of his so attractive. Rafe hummed and squeezed the plump flesh of your thigh. “That reminds me, Rose told me to tell you you’re invited for dinner tomorrow.” He said as he turned a street. You slightly frown at his words. “Why?” You ask. It was unexpected— maybe even inappropriate because, though having known him and his family for a couple of years, you and Rafe were not on a level of social intimacy that warranted you joining him and his family for Sunday night dinner.

He had made it perfectly clear to his friends what the two of you were. That you two were just casual— just simply going about and fucking each other. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” were his words. You would admit that it stung greatly. But you could not hold it against him because you perfectly knew that Rafe was not the committal type. He wanted something less serious and where there would be no strings attached. And you, who grew up with the idea of relationships stuck in your brain— being labeled as a hopeless romantic by your friends, settled for a casual fling with Rafe because… you wanted him— the whole of him. Even though he only wanted your body, that was enough for you to settle because you’d rather have him want you in a physical sense than not have him want you in any sense at all.

Rafe simply shrugged at your question. “Want me to pick you up?” He asked as he was pulling up to the driveway of your family’s estate. “Uh… no, I’ll just ask our driver,” you say because the act of him going out of his way to pick you up and drive you to dinner with his family was an act of intimacy that you would surely misinterpret and lead you to grow fonder of him whilst he still wants the casualty that did not come easily to you. “You sure?” He asked as his car stopped in the curve of your driveway. “Yeah, wouldn’t wanna impose,” You smile and remove your seatbelt. Rafe nodded and moved to kiss you again. And though you enjoyed kissing him, there was uncertainty on your lips.

“His step-mom invited me to dinner,” you told your friend through the phone. “Why?” They asked in the same confused tone you heard earlier. “I don’t know, too,” You say as you raid your closet for something to wear for the dinner that is fast approaching. “I thought you two were casual?” They asked—their tone hinting distaste. “We are,” You say and stare at yourself in the mirror, deciding which dress suits you best. Strategic in what to wear. You wanted your clothes to be casual but not come off as uncaring.

“Then why would she…?” Your friend trialed, and you debated if you should tell them the thought that pestered in the back of your head. If you should utter the hopefulness and optimism that you harbored. “What if… what if Rafe changed his mind? Maybe he doesn’t want casual anymore, and inviting me to their family dinner is a sign of formality— of exclusiveness.” You said, waiting for their reply. Your friend was silent, trying to find words that would not offend your ludicrous thoughts. They had only met Rafe twice during the summer, but they had the accurate image of him being noncommittal and just one to play around with girls.

“Am I reading too much into this?” You sighed as you were met with stony silence. “A bit, yes,” they finally spoke, making you sigh heavily. “I told you this was not your brightest idea,” they said, and you shook your head. “Just… be cautious. I don’t want you to get hurt. You gave him a lot of your firsts… it’s just— I, for one, know the regret and pain in tying your firsts to someone unworthy of it.” You bit your lip and nodded. Saying goodbye to your friend and promising to visit them in New York once spring break comes.

“You’re here! She’s here!” Weezy exclaimed as she abruptly opened the door of Cameron’s estate. Rafe’s younger sister practically bouncing around and beaming up at you. “Hey,” Race greeted as he descended down the steps, “What’d you bring?” He asked and took the box in your hands; his stepmom Rose coming to greet you in the foyer. “Oh… I brought cupcakes,” you smiled as Rose greeted you with a hug. “Oh, you shouldn’t have gone through the bother, but thank you. Come on, dinner is ready,” Rose smiled, and Weezy took the box and followed her mom. Rafe guiding you to their dinning room with hand placed on the low of your back, edging towards your ass and you had to elbow him in fear of being seen. His reply was only an amused chuckle.

The night proceeded with his parents getting to know you better. Interested in you because your family was one of the wealthiest— if not, the wealthiest on the island. Yet, unsociable because your parents had no want to participate and spend their off time in the country club nor attend the parties thrown by the island’s elite. You, however, were introduced to Rafe through his sister, Sarah, who was notably missing from the dinner table.

You were discussing something with Weezy when Rafe leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear. “Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.” He stood up, excusing himself, saying he had a call to take. You battled with yourself if you should do as he asked. It was completely inappropriate to have sex in the washroom whilst his parents and sister were at the dinner table. But the thought of Rafe pushing you against the bathroom counter, you watching him as he fucked you through the mirror… it was enough for wetness to come to your cunt, and you quickly excused yourself from the table.

You looked behind you before taking hold of the bathroom doorknob. The door swung open, and Rafe pulled you in, quickly smashing your lips and moving you to sit on the cool marble counter of the sink. “Thank god you’re wearing a dress,” He practically growled as his fingers were quick to be met with your cunt and your lips continued to dance. “They might get suspicious,” you breathed out as his fingers worked their way into you, and his lips moved to your neck. Rafe groaned as your hand cupped his length through his trousers. “Again, baby, I don’t fucking care.” You gasped as Rafe abruptly pulled you off the counter, turning you to face the mirror and bundling your hair in his hand. His other hand was frantically hiking up your dress and pulling down your underwear. “Such a perfect ass,” He mused and harshly gripped the flesh, making a wince.

You bit your lip and rolled your eyes in pleasure as his cock plunged deep into you. Rafe hissing in pleasure and gripping your hair tighter. “So fucking tight— if I weren’t the one to take your virginity, your cunt would have me believe you’ve never been fucked before… but we both know that’s not the truth, huh baby?” Rafe taunted as he rested your head on his chest, your back arched as he pounded into you. You let out a stifled moan as he removed his grip from your hair and instead placed it around your neck; his other hand, the one with his ring, found its way to the bundle of nerves on your cunt, determined to make you cry out in pleasure— for his family to hear your actions.

“Rafe— please… I—“ You rasped as you felt the need for release. “Aw… not yet, baby… you don’t get to come yet,” Rafe taunted and gripped your neck tighter, enjoying the way tears spilled from your eyes and the way your cunt clenched tighter around him. “Watch me fuck you, pretty girl. I want you to watch how pleasured you are by my cock.” You obeyed his order and watched at the pleasured state both of you were enveloped in, your eyes locking with blue ones through the mirror. You plead with him for release, which only spurs a deeper desire in Rafe. When his thrusts became sloppier, and his grip on your neck grew tighter to the point he was truly close to obstructing your breathing, that was when he finally let you come undone.

It had been a week since the family dinner at Rafe’s. Your parents were away on business, giving you and Rafe the opportunity to play house. The lines of casualness blurred when you had Rafe holding you close in sleep every night when he would wake you with his kisses and his lips on your cunt. The lines of casualness faded away when you cooked for him at dinner, and he served you breakfast in bed.

You started to wonder if being casual meant that you would take showers together, that you would be in each other’s arms as you watched hours of movies. Was it still casual when he handed you his phone because his sister wanted to talk to you? It’s hard to say you two were just casual when he went through the piles of your baby albums and forced you to tell the story behind each photo, making you recall your childhood with such interest that it made your heart flutter. It was far from casual when he lay on your lap and started to open up about his torn relationship with his dad and mum; your hand soothingly brushed his hair whilst the other was intertwined with his.

Hope was dangerously blooming in your heart that perhaps you two were starting to be more than casual. The actions shown led that way. You only had to muster up the courage to ask Rafe for more, to establish something stable between the two of you. So you went to his party with hopes that you two would be something more. Idealistic and idiotic because the moment you stepped foot in his house, with the crowds of people and the music blasting, all you could see was him in the corner, making out with another girl. Holding her in the way he held you, kissing her in the way he kissed you. Your heart pitted, and your mind scolded you for being stupid enough to hope. You hated yourself because you made yourself believe that Rafe Cameron would ever want something more than casual.

Part 2

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely.

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college.

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like.

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name.

Ravish

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was.

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard.

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him.

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps.

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.”

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most.

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later.

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug.

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore.

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself.

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet.

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks.

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop.

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!”

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.”

“Patience everyone.”

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .”

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor.

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . .

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out.

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?”

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles.

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.”

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible.

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again.

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.”

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet.

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got.

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it.

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal.

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.”

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.”

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good.

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.”

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone.

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm.

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?”

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias.

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?”

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.”

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud.

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.”

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter!

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come.

He wants them to come at the same time.

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up.

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera.

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time.

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet.

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes.

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor.

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release.

Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop.

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline.

Good girl.

Joel is a weak weak man.

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him.

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling.

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets.

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious.

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little.

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her.

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat.

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable.

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly.

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?”

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look.

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice?

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?”

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively.

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.”

You always call me that. Why? . . . Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean.

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.” she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.”

Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks.

“Can—Can you hear me?”

Her eyes sparkle.

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.”

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?”

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?”

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.”

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.”

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.”

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.”

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?”

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement.

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?”

“Would you laugh if I said no?”

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily. “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?”

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.”

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.

“Anything that you like, sir?”

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—”

“The heart-shaped ones?”

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.”

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?”

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.”

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.”

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples.

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch.

“Are you touching yourself, sir?”

“Yea.”

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.”

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted.

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?”

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it.

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.”

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?”

Fuck.

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword.

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough.

“Harder.”

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release.

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders.

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it.

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.”

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?”

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.”

“P-Pillow?”

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.”

“Shit, say that again.”

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—”

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat.

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.”

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?”

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight.

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.”

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him.

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips.

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.”

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking.

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.”

You hate visiting home.

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of.

JMiller.

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again.

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online.

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood.

Of course he did, he was perfect.

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late.

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you.

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line.

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.”

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.”

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.”

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.”

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull.

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind.

“You know what—”

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice.

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you.

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?”

You’re not but you kinda wish you were.

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.”

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after.

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.”

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters.

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale.

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask.

“You don’t have—”

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?”

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.”

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment.

Your rake your brain for answers.

Why?

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle?

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.”

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.”

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow.

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.”

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.”

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.”

Oh shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

It is him.

JMiller—J stands for Joel.

Fuck.

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .”

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.”

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.”

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.”

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.”

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that.

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel.

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Technically you bought it.”

“Right. . .”

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?”

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.”

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction.

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself.

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice.

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.”

“Ask away.”

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss.

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward.

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods.

“Is that okay?”

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His grin is infectious.

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.”

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home.

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had.

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company.

You found it incredibly charming.

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too.

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall.

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.”

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.”

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall.

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs.

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .”

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.”

You gasp, “P-Please.”

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze.

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled.

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock.

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—”

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face.

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!”

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper.

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—”

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing?

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.”

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.”

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs.

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.”

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean.

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing.

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild.

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth.

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.”

“You really had low expectations, huh?”

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.”

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.”

You smile, heart fluttering.

“Me too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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fieldofdaisiies · 4 months

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Icarus Has Fallen

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: fluff | words: 5,4k | warnings: none playlist: can't help falling in love | la vie en rose | moving along | my heart will go on | I think I’m in love | you and I enchanted; this story is dedicated to two of the most amazing people on this app @brekkershadowsinger @moonlightazriel thank you for all your help and support and love (now you know why I asked for the songs)💛

Icarus has fallen.

It was the sun that made Icarus fall, and it is a female as bright and beautiful as daylight that made Azriel fall. In love.

Deeply. Head over heels. No ground in sight.

He has never expected this sort of feeling. Not after Mor. Not after Elain.

But the first moment he lays eyes on you, the second he spots you, splashing around in the large marble mountain in front of the castle Azriel is gone. His gaze remains fixed on you all the way to the castle, not once averting his eyes. His is so focused on the sort of beauty he has never ever seen before, he doesn’t even realise that Cassian is talking to him. He doesn’t register what Rhysand answers, or what his High Lady adds. Everything around him fades into insignificance, becoming absolutely unimportant. There is only one thing on his mind - only one thing he can focus on and that is you and figuring out a way to get to know you. To learn your name. To find out who exactly you are.

He is only ripped out of his gazing by a deep male voice greeting the High Lord of Night and his entourage, including Azriel. He has to shake his head, his shadows calming a little around his shoulders.

"Welcome to the Day Court,“ Helion greets, his toga flowing around his strong thighs, his arms spread wide to welcome the visitors from Night to his court. Bowing their heads, they return the greeting and fall in line with the High Lord of Day who lets a casual eye run over each of them. "Where is Morrison?" he asks, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity, but also a hint of amusement. In the past, this question would have enraged Azriel. Not anymore. Not for a long time. He knows that Mor and him…there would never be anything between them. He knows this now.

Rhys answers him that she has business to deal with, and couldn't manage to come here. Helion accepts this answer with a smile and says, "Please, follow me. Allow me to show you my throne room where the discussions will be held."

Azriel’s gaze, one last time, moves over his shoulder, craning his neck quite a bit to catch one last look at you. You are engage in happy chatter with who he guesses are your friends, hair and the thin white gown that is damp from the water, leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. His breath catches and—

"If you keep staring any longer, you might break your neck, Azzy.“ Cassian fetches his best friend back to reality, nudging him playfully in the ribs and colour blooms high on the shadowsinger’s cheeks when he meets the general’s gaze. "Wh-at?" he stammers, trying to pretend he wasn’t doing anything, but obviously Cassian isn’t stupid and sees right through his bluffing.

"I wasn’t staring," Azriel growls, his forehead lying in furrows.

"I am only teasing you, Az,! Cassian adds when he watches Azriel’s expression, the cold and indifference creeping back into his features. The general chuckles and returns his gaze to his own mate, his large hand holding Nesta’s tightly. "But you totally were."

Azriel tries to ignore his friend, shaking his head slightly, shoulders squared, posture straight as he follows the others into the big throne room of the Day Court castle. He wasn't staring. He was…observing.

Everyone gathers around a large class table, the meeting starting a moment after, but Azriel is unfocused. Helion says something about Koschei, Azriel thinks. His High Lord adds something, and so does his High Lady. But his brain doesn't allow him to participate. Or is it is heart?

Yes, he found females attractive in the past. Many females. But it has always been different. He has never been so enthralled, so enchanted by someone he hasn’t even properly met. He has only seen you for a few minutes and—

"Tell Lady Y/N to come here. She should bring the Book of Death Gods and Dark Forces.“ Helion waves of his sentry and then focuses back on the conversation with Rhys.

Azriel swallows thickly, the name, it has struck a cord in his heart. It sounds oddly familiar and he has no idea why. Like his heart has heard it before, remembers it, almost like it evokes memories deep within him… Within his soul.

The discussions continue, Azriel contributes with the occasional dip of his chin. He can’t focus, his mind is too…he doesn’t actually know. But somehow, seeing you, has pulled a lever in his head. In his heart. In his soul and focusing on anything else then the sudden pull he feels in his chest becomes a sheer impossibility. He has never felt this tug before…it is a wholly new feeling that renders him dumb.

But he has to focus. This is important. Not only for the Night Court but for all of Pythian.

Azriel brings up a hand and folds it over his chin, trying to listen in, his shadows perched on his shoulders, gathering information.

"So what we know about Koschei is very little, but I truly hope that the ancient book in my possession can give us more answers.! Helion releases a loud sigh, his expression concentrated, posture rather stiff. He shakes his head, swirling pits of worry in his eyes.

He leans back in his chair and turns his head, acknowledging movement at the threshold. He lifts his gaze, "Ah!" he says, and waves you in with two of his fingers. "Come in, my lady."

Azriel, simultaneously to the High Lord of Day, focuses his gaze on the female figure appearing in the door - hair still damp, but the dress a new one. A dry one.

His breath catches, heart skipping one or the other beat and if he hadn’t been sitting down he knows his knees would have given in right in this moment.

As you enter the throne room, your curious eyes scan the room, taking the people gathered there. You curtsey to not only greet your High Lord but also his guests. His guests from the Night Court. Your gaze eventually settles on Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, engaged in conversation with Rhysand, High Lord of the Night, the opposite solar court to your own.

Next to him is his High Lady, Feyre Archeron, the first High Lady Pythian has ever seen. She smiles at you, polite and kind, and you dip your chin at her. And next to her…you find a male, his beauty not comparable to any you have ever seen before. He is the most beautiful male that exists in all of Pythian, you know this, and you are captured by him. His expression is cold and indifferent, but his eyes of hazel, sparkle when they meet yours. His composed demeanour seems to falter as his eyes lock with yours.

For a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still. Azriel is struck by your presence—your grace, your elegance, your beauty, your brightness. Could you be the light to his darkness, the sun in his endless gloomy days.

He's at a loss for words, captivated by you. It's as if the world around him dims, leaving only you illuminated in his vision. You are sunshine, and life.

You want to look away, focus on the task at hands - delivering the book, but you can’t. Your heart starts to sing inside of you, begging you to draw nearer to the shadowy male, to ask for his name, to get to know him, to—

"Lady Y/N, thank you so much for coming,“ Helion reaches out his hand. "I see you brought the book I requested.“

Your footsteps echo on the marble floor in the throne room as you approach your High Lord, finally averting your gaze form the beautiful male, holding the Book of Death Gods and Dark Forces in your shaky hands. He holds out his hand for the book, his attention momentarily drawn away from the discussion at hand. "Meet my guests, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court and his High Lady, Feyre Archeron. Joining them, Azriel, and Cassian, the two best Illyrian warriors that there are.“

You smile politely, trying to greet each person again with the bow of your head. "It's my pleasure," you says, and then claim the seat on Helion's left, helping him open the large book and find the right page and then you start to read together, helping Helion and Rhysand filter out the important information (you are after all one of the head scholars of the Day Court, your wisdom and knowledge big).

Azriel’s gaze lingers on you. Gods, you are so stunning, he barely knows how to keep his breathing steady, how to avoid the constant subtle glances into your direction - those stolen glances every now and then that make his heart beat faster.

He wants to meet your gaze, accidentally, not make it too obvious he is staring. But you never deign him another glance, not once you look at him again, fully focused on the task at hand - going through the large book and some extra piles of parchment. Some other scholars, both young and old, have joined in as well, searching for any kind of important information.

Over time sentries deliver more books and papers, all splayed out over the table until nothing of the glass was visible anymore. Your delicate fingers traces over the written words and every now and then you bring a hand up to brush back a loose strand of hair that has fallen over your shoulder.

Azriel is fully enthralled by you - never ever has he seen such a beauty before, you are breathtaking and stunning. He doesn’t know why he is feeling so strongly, why the sight of you made his heart skip one or the other beat and why there is a sudden pull, a tug on his chest and then it hits him like slap.

Might this…could this be the bond? Could you be his mate. It would explain why one look at you was enough to pull out the rug from under his feet.

You work for hours, discussion everything that is noted about the old Death Gods. Azriel is unfocused and he knows it. He wants to fight against it but he can't — like some force is restricting him from it. Like it only wants to make him focus on you.

He doesn't even fully notice when the discussion comes to an end, not even registering what the outcome exactly is.

"Don’t you trust my strength that I can carry all those books and papers back alone, High Lord?" you ask with a hint of teasing in your voice. Your eyes sparkle while they hold Helion's gaze.

Helion chuckles lowly in answer, smirking. "I absolutely believe in your strength, but I am also a gentleman and wish that someone helps you with the books, so—"

"I can help." At least six pairs of surprised and wide-open eyes dart to Azriel. He slowly gets up, right now not minding the attention he normally hate so much. "I will help you with the , if I may."

Lips that have formerly parted due to your astonishment, form a smile - bright and happy. "You absolutely may, I appreciate it a lot."

You are strong enough to carry the books alone, you most definitely are. But, you have this absolutely breathtaking male offering his help, you would be a fool to say no. Maybe you can get to know him a little better, maybe you will talk on your way to the Grand Library - whatever it will be, you will spend time with him and that makes you feel happy, and excited.

So, Azriel gets up and walks to you, picking up some books (the heavier ones, leaving the lighter ones for you). Everyone is watching you, surprised about the scene unfolding itself in front of them, but before it gets to uncomfortable, Cassian manages to pull everyone into a conversation, wanting to help his best friend out.

Azriel is thankful, yet does not let it show, his sole focus on you. He nods his head at you when he has a tight grip on all the large books, signalling you he is ready to leave, and you should lead the way.

Once you are out of the door, out of earshot, Azriel exhales loudly and finally opens his mouth. "I‘m Azriel," the shadowsinger introduces himself, voice quivering the slightest bit, his palms so clammy all of a sudden, he would love to wipe them down his trousers weren't he holding the many books.

You turn your head and grin at him. A soft chuckle escapes you, "I know, Helion introduced you earlier."

Colour starts to bloom high on his defined cheeks, embarrassment passing over his features, so you quickly add, "But I am very pleased to meet you personally. It’s my pleasure, Azriel. I am Y/N."

"Such a beautiful name," he whispers. Perfect for such a beautiful female, he wants to add, but doesn't do. Not yet. That would not be appropriate. He barely knows you after all.

"So you are head scholar?" Azriel asks when you set out down a long pathway, at the end a large towering building and Azriel guesses it is the Grand Library.

"Exactly. But I am not the only one. The High Lord has a Head Scholar in every library of his court." You explain a little more while you walk over to the big library, adding some random details that you love to share and he loves to hear. Azriel is interested in the information you share with him and that warms your heart - no one has ever truly cared about those things.

From time to time, you find him marvelling at our surroundings, the large sunflower fields or the Pegasi that trot by, neighing and bowing their heads.

You set out for the last part of the path, pebbles crunching beneath your feet, creating a soft melody in the same rhythm as the beating of your hearts. You tell him that High Lord Helion himself helped build this Library, and it took them over a century to finish it.

Azriel gasps when he takes in the whole expanse of the gigantic Library, crafted from marble and glass, reflecting the sunlight and towering over him - not in an intimidating way, more in an impressive way.

"Welcome to the Grand Library, you tell Azriel upon entering, smiling him and his astonished face.

"Stunning," he breathes, his gaze brushing you. He is only partly talking about the Library.

"Where to?" Azriel asks and you look around, unsure. You wish he could help you put all the books away, but you don’t want to keep him here for too long.

"Just on my desk, if you please." You smile and tilt you chin into the direction of said desk. Azriel bows his head and follows without a word, shadows swirling around him, almost like they are dancing to a melody.

"The shadows. What are—?"

"I’m shadowsinger." He turns his head to you, a lopsided smile on his lips.

"Ah," you answer. "And what exactly does a shadowsinger do?"

He somehow looks happy over this question, happy to explain it to you. You listen in awe, his shadows skittering down his arms and reaching out to you, almost like they want to brush over your skin. Or pull you closer. To their owner. To—

"I think I should leave now." Azriel clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to leave. Not yet. But he has too. First of all, they need to return to the Night Court and secondly, his heart is beating so rapidly and he has been looking at you for so long he doesn’t know how long he can survive without his knees giving him.

You have changed something inside of him and he needs space and time to makes sense of it. He needs some solitude to order his thoughts.

"That’s alright," you say, a pang of sadness sparking in your chest. You want to spend more time with him, get to know him better, but your knees feel wobbly only when his gaze brushes you. You don't know what it is, but your are not dumb and suspect a larger force behind the emotions boiling inside of you. Could this be the Mother's doing. Could you and Azriel be connected through more than just attraction?

The shadowsinger starts to back away, slowly, hesitatingly walking toward the large entrance door, wings tucked in behind his broad back.

"Thank you for offering your help with the books," you call after him. You meet his gaze.

Azriel bows his head. "Any time you need me, I am here for you."

Cheeks turning rosy, and your heart skipping a beat, you place the parchments on the desk in front of you. You draw in a deep inhale, warmth spreading from your chest throughout your whole body.

Azriel is almost out the door, his footsteps hollowing through the large, empty library.

"Azriel."

You bite down on your lower lip. He halts on the threshold, one scarred hand braced on the door frame. It seems like his posture straightens and the shadows on his shoulders halt in their swirling, waiting for what you are about to ask.

"Yes." He turns to you, a smile on his lips, hope etched upon his features.

"Will I see you again?" Tension leaves your body the moment you voice your question and see his expression.

Azriel seems surprised about this question, even his shadows have stilled, no longer swirling around him. "Do you want to see me again?"

You grin and brace your hands on your hips. "I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to."

He smiles, yet doesn’t answer immediately.

"I would love to see you again," he eventually says, voice tinged with a rarely-there happiness. "Maybe we can work together again any time soon? There is still a lot to find out." He tilts his chin at said book, the one he carried back here.

Your heart flutters and so does Azriel‘s, heartbeat increasing, chest swelling with an emotion he has never felt before.

"I think that is a great idea."

He meets your gaze, eyes locking, the promise of seeing each other strong and steadfast between your hearts. "See you soon, Y/N."

You smile politely. "See you soon, Azriel."

His name on your lips - nothing has ever sounded more beautiful in Azriel’s ears and he can’t avoid the grin, reaching from one ear to the other. An expression hardly anyone has ever seen on his face. With a fluttering heart, he lets door fall close behind him, exhaling loudly.

He can’t quite say what has happened and why it hit him so hard when he barely knows you, but he is falling - heavily, deeply. Madly.

Will I see you again?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"I would like to show you something, my favourite place. Then we can continue with the book. But right now, we deserve a break."

You are hopeful, really wanting to spend time with him alone. You and Azriel, joined by other scholars, have been dealing with several books surrounding the topic of Death Gods for hours, your necks and backs aching already.

"Are we allowed a break?" Azriel asks, raising his brow. He wants to say yes so desperately, but times is pressing and you need answers soon.

"Yes, because working too hard for too long without a moment of rest is not beneficial for making progress."

You have a point, Azriel decides. He closes his book and with a contented sigh leans back in his chair. "What do you want to show me?"

"A special place here in the Day Court. It’s not far from here, we can return shortly."

You step from one foot to the other, impatiently, because you really want to show him your favourite place. You know he will like it.

Azriel’s heart is beating a little faster when he gets up, surrounding the desk he was sitzing behind, spending hours being bent over paperwork. You want to show him something?

He is only a political guest so you showing him part of your court feels like a huge honour.

Heading towards the large marble doors, Azriel follows, his breath catching when his eyes follow the sway of your hips, how gracefully you glide over the ground. He has to shake his head, the tug on his chest so strong he worries his heart might rip right through his rib cage.

And he isn’t the only one feeling it. You need a moment, closing your eyes, his closeness doing something to your body. To your heart. And you very soul.

You close the door, waiting for Azriel to step away, to move, but he stays, his eyes running over you. They drop to your hand and then meet your own. He seems to hold his breath for a small moment, then inhales deeply, eyes still locked with yours, and parts his lips. "Can I hold your hand?"

You know that primarily he poses his question because of his scars. Maybe he has been rejected in the past, or he is genuinely worried you may feel disgusted?

But there is no reason for it, you like his hands - they are big and unique. And you don’t care about the scars, not in the way he thinks. If someone caused him the scars, if someone hurt him, you care because you want to make them pay - severely. With their death.

"You never have to ask for something like that," you say, voice tinged with empathy.

You extend your hand, grasping his gently, fingers easily sliding between his, intertwining them. "Your hands are so big," you tell him with a grin and it even draws a small smile to the shadowsinger‘s face. A beautiful smile, eyes glowing like you have never seen them before. "And our hands fit perfectly."

Azriel assesses your intertwined hands and with a sigh and the deep rise and fall of his chest, he eventually says, "They do. Like they were made for each other."

Your cheeks turn rosy, and you search his gaze. "Maybe they were," you whisper, voice tinged with a sheepish tone. Slowly you set out, one step after the other and Azriel follows, both silent. Both of you are too stunned by sensation sparking between your palms to speak - it feels like heat and tingles erupt, almost like lightning zips between your bodies.

You walk up a small pathway behind the Grand Library, through a canopy of large, towering trees, light dancing on every single leaf, and filtering through the branches. Your gaze moves over your surroundings, sometimes touching Azriel. He seems amazed, and to be liking what is presented to him which makes you happy.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze, just a small gesture but it makes his heart flutter, and a smile appear on his lips. Birds song in the distance, accompanying the rustling of leaves and the crunch of pebbles beneath your shoes. You inhale deeply when you come to a halt.

You are atop a small hill, overlooking most of the city below, and Helion‘s palace in the midst of it. Large fields of sunflowers stretch in front of you, Pegasi trotting on the paths in between.

"I think it is my favourite place. Here in the Day Court I mean." You turn your head to the side, already finding Azriel looking at you. His eyes shimmer with an emotion you can’t quite place - is it love? Admiration? Anticipation?

You smile at him, and he mirrors your expression. "I can see why." His deep voice is barely above a whisper, caressing your skin like feather. "It is beautiful." He pauses, but his lips part again, like he wants to continue. Azriel’s eyes run over your face, scanning every small detail, memorising it.

"Just like you," he finally whispers, and now you can see love sparkling vividly in his eyes. He lifts his hand, fingers halting mere inches from your face, "May I?"

You dip your chin and in a featherlight caress, the shadowsinger brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your pointed ear. "I’ve never seen beauty like yours before, Y/N,“ Azriel says, his tone sincere. "And before you try to object, it is the truth." The corners of his lip quirk upwards and he smiles down at you. "You are a bright ray of sunshine, and with your smile alone you could light up the darkest night. Your beauty rivals that of the sun herself."

That has strung a cord in your heart and you feel how tears brim your eyes, the back of your mouth starting to ache. You don’t want to cry. Not right now, but the compliment was just too beautiful - no one has ever said something like that to you.

"How fortunate that I thought the same about you when I first saw you - that you are the most beautiful male I‘ve ever seen," you whisper, voice a little hoarse. You lift your hand, resting it atop his, your soft palm touching his scars.

"One day you will tell me the story of how you got those?"

"I will," Azriel whispers, a tang of gloominess filling his voice.

"But for now, I want you to know that they do nothing to diminish your beauty, or your worth. You are beautiful and perfect the way you are. Scars or no scars, you are the most beautiful male I have ever laid eyes upon."

Bouncing up on your toes, you bring your lips closer to his, almost kissing him. "You asked me if you could hold my hand, now I am asking you if I can kiss you." Your soft breath tingles his lips and a low, amused chuckle leaves Azriel. "Please," he breathes, eyes fluttering shut. You connect your lips with his.

It is a delicate kiss, lips moving in a graceful dance of tenderness and longing.

The sun's warmth brushes your skin, intensifying the sensation, as if the Mother herself looks down on you, happy about this union. Time seems to slow around you, everything but Azriel and the feel of his lips against yours, fading into insignificance.

Azriel’s thumb gentle caresses your cheek, his tongue hesitantly gliding over your lip, asking for entrance which you grant him. The first stroke of his tongue against yours, elicits a gasp from you and you have to smile, pulling back from the kiss.

"That was—"

"I think we are mates!" The words just pour out of his mouth and he can’t stop them before they are already there, hanging in the air between you. He has lost control, his soul won the upper hand, and he couldn't stop his mouth from revealing the bond.

Everything stops, even your heart and breathing. Your mouth is agape with surprise, and slight shock about this sudden and unexpected revelation. Yes, you have felt this tug on your chest as well, but…

It still surprises you to learn about him feeling the same. So, it is truly the bond. Air gets caught in your throat and your heart hammers against your rib cage.

"I…I—"

"I am sorry," Azriel admits and shakes his head, "I shouldn’t have said anything."

He wants to step away, but you don’t let him.

"Don‘t be." You smile up at him. "I was just…the bond is a huge thing, and I…you just surprised me, maybe even overwhelmed me with your revelation. It was so out of the blue." You step into him, arms slinging around his torso. He has gone stiff and you want some of the former light to return to his eyes. "I probably need a moment to order my thoughts and realise what it all means, but I am happy it is you. I’ve been feeling a pull towards you as well, Azriel, and it all makes sense now." You press a soft kiss to his pectoral.

His arms curl tighter around you, holding you against him, marvelling at the feeling of your bodies melding. Not only your hands are made for one another, but also your bodies. You are equals, one half of the same coin.

"You don't mind it is me?" he asks of a moment and you can feel the sad thrumming of his heart through his chest. You tip your head back, trying to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on an undefined point in the distance. "No," you say, voice soft, "I could never be disappointed about that."

He finally lowers his gaze, eyes brushing yours. You smile and continue, "It might take us some time to figure everything out, to really get to know one another. To learn everything about the other person."

He bows his head. His shadows caress your upper arms, your face.

"I don't want to rush anything. I want to give us time to get to know the other. I don't want to give the bond the upper hand and make us forget about the simple things of falling in love."

"I don't want that either. I want to learn everything about you, Y/N, before we accept the bond." His lips brush your forehead. "But I already call myself the luckiest male in all of Prythian."

A grin appears on his lips, so bright, that now he is the one whose beauty rivals the sun.

The shadowsinger's chest heaves with a deep inhale, his chest brushing against yours, hearts beating in the same rhythm.

"I guess, Day and Night have at last found each other." You quip, nuzzling your face into his solid chest, his warmth so soothing to your soul, his scent bewitching your senses.

A bemused chuckle leaves Azriel as he tips your head back and gazes into your eyes, but soon the happiness fades from his face, a hint of worry and coldness reaching you through the bond.

"There is a chance for our love? Our bond?" Azriel‘s forehead lies in furrows, his chest aching fiercely all of a sudden. He hasn't considered this before, but you are from two different places of Prythian.

His throat works on a swallow before he continues. "We are from two different courts. Day and Night. We are—"

"Mates! Our souls belong together. So do our hearts. And when two souls belong together, there is always a chance for love."

You nip at his lower lip. "We will figure out a way to make it work, but we will stay together. We will be a couple. Our mating bond is stronger than the border of our courts!"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A loud chuckle parts your lips, your head tipped backwards, Azriel’s broad hand splayed out on your lower belly, fingers relentlessly tickling and teasing you.

"I love you, have I told you that already today?"

"Not yet, I think" you quip, giggling into his biceps.

Azriel leans in quickly, lips on your neck. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." Azriel’s hot breath fans your skin and leaves goosebumps in its wake. "More than my own life, more than anything in this world." He nips at your skin. "My mate."

"I love the sound of it," you whispers, fingers stroking through his silken strands. "I love that I can call myself yours. And that I call you mine." You grin, even though he can’t see it, face still buried in the crook of your neck.

"I love being called yours, my sunshine."

Azriel‘s hand slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing gently and then he lets himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling you with him, your head resting atop his chest. He has arrived and his heart sings happily within his chest.

The sun burned Icarus. Made him fall.

But Azriel is not afraid to get burned again. He is safe with you. Always. You won't burn him. And he won’t fall. Not in the literal sense of the word.

In love, though? He has fallen massively, deeply. He loves you with every part of his body, truly and fully.

You are his mate. His equal. His home.

~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf

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sh1-n0bu · 4 months

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can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??

✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿

characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…

notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea

oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?

tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it

which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it

safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways

has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong

him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there

like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei

safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family

his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life

his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T

his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!

yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it

you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims

the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last

AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!

likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game

will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die

something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too

he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones

had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it

the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you

was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!

he aint fooling anyone

takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh

had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ

yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice

after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date

you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud

walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home

the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you

“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”

“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”

“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”

yeah… just say you love them already, scara

your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face

“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”

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rogueddie · 2 months

Text

Mutual Mixtapes T | 544 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is letting him pick the music

Steve hates metal music. He hates how loud it is, how the higher notes on an electric guitar grate on his brain. He hates how it always triggers a migraine when it's played too long, how it makes them almost blindingly painful when it's played too loud.

But Eddie loves Metal. It always makes him visibly happier, excited, energetic.

As long as he pays close attention to himself, Steve can get through Eddies metal music. He knows that Eddie will turn it off, or turn it down, the second he asks.

It's worth suffering a few mild headaches to see Eddie so joyful.

"Which ones do you like?" Eddie asks him one day, out of the blue.

"I don't know, they're all great," Steve lies.

But Eddie rolls his eyes, tutting. "You hate most of them, it's fine, I know. Are there any that you do like?"

"Uh... that master puppet one that has that line that goes, uh... 'sleep my friend and you will see, the dream is my reality'. That's kinda good. But, uh, I don't like the heavy guitars it gets into."

"So you like the first three minutes, got it. That ones not too heavy for you?"

"It's a little heavy, and that start bit with the high guitar is, like, bad, but it's pretty alright. I like the words."

Steve forgets about the conversation as soon as he gets to work, distracted by Robins rambling and their work.

It doesn't come up again for a few days too, so when Eddie is holding a mixtape and grinning at him, excited, he's confused.

"I made you a mixtape! Well, technically us."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think you might like it. If you don't, it's ok."

He puts the tape in and, when it starts to play, Steve is surprised. The first song that plays is... nice. It's nothing like the music he's grown used to Eddie playing.

"What is this?"

"It's Black Sabbath."

"This is Black Sabbath? Are you sure?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. It's a short one. Orchid. Thought it'd be the type of song you'd like."

"It is. Yeah, this... it's lovely."

Some of the other songs are edging a little too close to 'too much', but most of them are alright.

When Welcome Home (Sanitarium) plays, Eddie tells him the name and explains how he cut it up so the parts that Steve mentioned not enjoying aren't in it. It ends up sounding a little choppy, but Eddie is proud.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks, pausing the tape when he pulls up outside the new place Steve and Robin are working at.

"So far? Great. Some, um... they'd be better played a little quiet, but I like them. Thank you, for doing this."

"Don't worry. I want you to enjoy music with me, not suffer through it for me."

"Well, I loved that first one."

"Good. I'll try and find more like it."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to."

"Alright," Steve huffs, ducking his head. "Thank you."

Eddie shifts, turning so he can look around them, before quickly leaning over to kiss Steves cheek. "Stop thanking me. Just be honest when you're miserable, ok?"

"Alright."

"Go on then, out, I have another mixtape to work on."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm #day 21

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makisoda · 7 months

Text

𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐄𝐖𝐖) !

jjk boys and their icks… because no man is perfect…

jjk boys x implied fem!reader

cw : men being gross, slight nsfw in nanami’s part, very mild misogyny if you squint in megumi’s part, this post was literally just so i could rant kinda

a / n : long time no see… not much to say other than i’ve been busy !!! anyways hope you enjoy :)

yuji itadori - bad grammar

giving him the tamest one tbh because he’s such a sweetheart </3 idk why but i feel like he just has such shitty grammar… like he’s smart ! just not when it comes to grammar. for example, he mixes up his to, too, and two’s, his there’s, and don’t get me started on your vs you’re :/ again he’s the sweetest boy ever ! it’s just the fact he probably failed his lit classes…

megumi fushiguro - “females”…

i was so close to giving this to satoru but i didn’t cause he has shoko to hold him down, megumi on the other hand… look, i don’t think he’d say it in front of girls, but to other dudes, yk ? and i definitely don’t think it’s on purpose to try and be an asshole but it just happens. quickly unlearns it when he says it around maki though.

yuta okkotsu - referring to himself in third person

you guys know how elmo is like, “elmo wants to go to the park,” yeah… yuta does this. and no, it’s not ironically. he definitely thinks it’s cute too and sometimes it is ! but it’s to an extent. like it’s cute the first couple times where he is goes, “yuta loves you,” but then it gets weird and corny when he’s like, “yuta wants to get dinner,” like ermmmm ok…

toge inumaki - fish pics.

as someone who lives in those south i see these OFTEN. for those who don’t know, fish pics are basically when dudes hold up fish they caught while fishing and post pictures of them holding it… i think the main problem with this to me is that a lot of very weird and racist men do it, so that’s why i hate it. anyways i’m 90% sure he has an official art where he’s holding a fish ( i also didn’t know what ick to give him ).

satoru gojo - his height is his whole personality

this shit irks me so bad omg. as someone who’s short ( 5’0 ) and hates seeing other short people make their whole personality their height, it’s even worst when it’s a tall person. satoru is definitely the type to be like, “omg guysss i bumped my head otw hereeee i’m so tallll,” like no you’re just stupid ! he definitely has other icks but this was the main one i could think of… ik he gets on everyone’s nerves.

suguru geto - says “my bad” instead of “im sorry”

another personal one tbh. i hate hate hate when people do this especially if it’s something serious. i remember one time someone pushed me in the mud ( i didn’t fully go on, just my foot ) and i got mud all over my white shoes and they have the audacity to go, “my bad,” like yeah it is your bad lmao. anyways, suguru def does this often especially to shoko. i feel like he’s pretty clumsy and say if shoko’s studying and he knocks over a drink onto her books he’ll say “my bad” and not even attempt to help her clean it up. like dude at least say sorry or something idk ???

nanami kento - calls his dick anything but a dick

“my member” you are grown !!! say dick !!! he does it to be ‘classy’ but like, he is pushing 30 doing this, just say dick. i also think it’s a shame thing ? idk probably hanging out with stsg for most of his teen years rotted his brain so he hates hearing really nasty stuff but he won’t even say penis half the time. like it’s really not that serious nobody wants to call your dick a phallus ( it was also really hard to give him an ick ).

choso - using 🥺 / 🥹

oh BROTHERRRR this one pisses me off. i hate both of those emojis in general but especially when men do it, it’s cornball behavior. like aren’t you supposed to be fighting in wars ? stand up. but i don’t think he has any ill intentions at all, honestly just picks emojis that represent his mood often. however he definitely uses 😂 instead of 😭… sorry choso…

song : ick - lay bankz

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maxillness · 3 months

Text

Secret Love Song || LH44 x Russell!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age-gap, degrading kink, praise kink, sub!lewis

Wordcount: 1.4k

“Oh, fuck. Just like that, baby” He moaned from above her. His hands were tangled in her hair as his back was pushed up against the door of his drivers room

“Your lips feel so good around me” He couldn’t stop praising her, even though he knew she was gonna be in charge when they got to her place after the race later

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this; saliva dripping down your chin, red cheeks, my cock in your mouth” His body was starting to sweat as he twitched in her mouth

“Just like that. Fucking hell, I’m gonna-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence before he shot his hot loath down her throat

She stood up as she swallowed his cum. He zipped his trousers back up before kissing her tenderly “I’m gonna return the favour when we get to your place after the race, okay love?”

“If you win” She kissed his cheek before leaving the room. They both managed to get back to the others without being seen leaving his drivers room

“Where were you?” George asked her with a hint of concern in his voice

“I was just at the bathroom, no need to worry your pants” She chuckled as she walked over to him

“I’m just looking out for you” He said with soft eyes

“George, I’m 20, you don’t need to look out for me anymore” He had always protected her through out their childhood, he was worse then their parents

“You’re right. I’m sorry”

Normally after her and Lewis had fucked or she would have sucked him off, they would be clingy with each other. Her lips would be all over him. On his lips, cheek, neck, throat, chest, stomach, anywhere they could be, they would be

But they couldn’t this time. Nobody knew they were together, and god forbid they ever told anyone, her brother would absolutely destroy him, both on and outside the track

I wanna kiss you so bad rn

She heard the ping of the message she had sent across the garage. She looked over to Lewis who had picked up his phone. He looked over at her before typing

I want to kiss you too love, but you know we can’t <3

She knew it was true, but what if they fucked with the rules? What if they stood in the corner and it was just a little peck before going back to talk to people they were talking to before

Win the race and my lips will be all over you ;)

She smiled as she sent the text. She looked over at Lewis who was blushing hard. He was talking with Bono who looked confused at him

She could hear their conversation, but she guessed Lewis’ excuse for his slightly red cheeks would be something like it was hot in the garage

It gave her some kind of rush, knowing she was the only one to draw this kind of reaction out of him

It also made her folds wet, but she would never dare to tell him that

She spend the rest of the day in the garage, sending him texts with either different kinds of praises, promises to fuck him when he wins, or wishes about the two of them

You’re always doing so good for me

You better do good on the track, Hamilton

I’m gonna fuck you dumb when you win

I’m gonna fuck your brains out

I wish you could hold me in your arms

I wish you could kiss me before your race

Every time she sent a text, she looked over at Lewis who would just blush harder every time, if that was even possible

Her brother had questioned her multiple times who she was texting, but she would always say it was one of her friends

Like wise did he ask Lewis, who said it was either his parents, his neighbour who was sitting Roscoe, or one of his friends

Stop sending me all those text love

Why? I can see you like them <3

She looked over at him, eyes went down to his slight boner in his trousers

You drive me crazy woman

At least I fuck as good as I drive you crazy ;)

He won the race, of course. I mean, if he hadn’t my won, maybe he wouldn’t get to fuck his teammates sister

“You need a lift home?” George asked her

“No thanks, George” She didn’t give him a reason why, but he brushed it off like he was used to it

“You did so good, baby” Her hand was on his inner thigh as he drove them to her apartment. His breath was heavier as her handed hockey closer to the place where he needed her the most

“Thank you, love” He said, his words almost getting caught in his throat. Her hand started stroking his thigh, making him harder by every stroke

They had barely entered the apartment when Lewis was all over her. His hands on her waist, pulled close to him as his lips were on hers and her hands were on his ass, squeezing him every so often

“Fuck, I want to return the favour, love” His lips traveled over to her jaw

“Then get to the bedroom, Lew” Her hands traveled him to stroke his sides

“No, I want you now” He backed her back so her ass hit the dinning table “Please” His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting her up on the table

“Lewis, we should go to the bedroom” He had already gone to his knees as she spoke

He didn’t listen to her words, he instead proceeded to pull her closer to the edge of the table. He lifted her skirt up, giving him access to pull down her panties as she bucked her hips

She gave in, and let him do what he wanted to her. He threw her panties the floor beside them before spreading her knees, giving him more access to her cunt

He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder before darting his tongue out to lick through her folds

She moaned at the contact between his tongue and her clit. He flicked over it with his tongue as he entered her with on of his fingers

As her moans started getting loud, he inserted another finger “What wouldn’t your teammate think, huh? If he knew how you fuck his little sister” He hummed at her words giving her extra pleasure

She bucked her hips into his face, grinding on his tongue she came close to her orgasm “Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good for me” Hs Eleanor’s her head back, rolling her eyes into the back of her head “Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

A few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of his tongue, and she came around his fingers. He rode out her high before pulling out of her and standing up

She got to the ground “The bedroom, Lew” He kissed her quick before going to the bedroom

She chuckled at his eagerness. She walked into the bedroom, seeing him already stripped naked and laid on the bed

“Good. You’re already ready for me” She smirked as she walked over to him

“I’m always ready for you, love” He said pulling her into his lap. She pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra. She threw them both to the floor

She spit in her hand, and started stroking him slow. She lined herself up with his cock, slowly pushing him in making them both moan

“Fuck, you always fill me up so good, Lew” She smirked as she started moving. She loved hearing his moans and whimpers coming from him

“You sound so pretty” She kept praising him as he started bucking his hips up into her, meeting her thrusts

He gripped her hips tighter, slamming her down onto him. Both their moans were loud and heavy as they came closer to their orgasms

“You feel so good around me. Fuck, love. I fucking love you” He spoke between his moans “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum, fuck, please”

Her fingers went to her clit, circling it between her fingers. Her actions pushed her closer to her orgasm

“Cum for me, baby” He came into her, holding her down onto him. Him coming into her, sent her over the edge, coming around him for the second time today

She pulled off of him, going to the bathroom to get a damp towel to clean them both up. She laid down beside him, scooting close into him under the duvet

“I love you” He sighed holding her close kissing her forehead

“I love you too” She kissed his chest laying down hearing his heartbeat

#smut #dom!reader #formula one #lewis hamilton #Lewis Hamilton smut #Lewis Hamilton x reader #Lewis Hamilton x reader smut #Spotify #sub!lewis hamilton

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lizzyk137 · 6 months

Text

Figuring Out Parenthood- A Spencer Reid Story (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Summary: You had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. Now three years later, Spencer makes an appearance in your life, on Halloween, making you question- Is Spencer the father? Warnings: None, pure fluff

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

His lips were locked against yours, his hands roaming your body as you laid back onto the bed beneath you. His woodsy cologne filled your brain with nothing else but him, intoxicating you even more. The more his skin touched yours the more you lost yourself. The night went on full dizzy in his embrace. The only reminder of your night together was the sweet dreams you had of his embrace.

And the two lines on the stick.

"Penelopeeee!" You dragged out her name, hoping she would ignore what she was doing and chat with you. You leaned against the door frame; two mugs full of hot tea in hand while you watched her type away at her computer. A small smile fell on your lips while you watched her head bounced as she danced along to the song she was humming.

"I'll be right with you, my love! Just one more minute... and done!" With one final click on the keyboard, her home screen popped up to a picture of the two of you and your adorable three-year-old son.

Penelope and you have been friends since you both started working for the F.B.I., she was your closest friend at work and out of work. You didn't work much together but you would occasionally help out on a few cases. You worked with a small group of people which didn't interact with anyone besides a few people, but Penelope always made sure you guys came out with her when she organized company functions, aka club nights. Which is how you ended up pregnant three years ago.

You weren't the type of girl for one-night stands or going clubbing. It was a stupid decision to get drunk and have a one-night stand, but they had given you the biggest blessings you could ask for. Work kept you busy and isolated, so meeting someone was out of the question but starting a family was something you had always wanted. You couldn't remember who you had slept with, just that he left a handkerchief behind with the initials SR engraved on it. You wouldn't tell Penelope what the initials were since you knew she would go to such lengths of trying to find him, but you had to figure he worked in the same building you did since most of the people attended worked with you. But you couldn't bring yourself to find out who he was.

"Is he almost here?"

"He should be in a few minutes, I gotta go down and get him from security." You handed her a mug, and she took a sip. "He's super excited and can't wait for everyone to see his costume."

It was Halloween and every year the F.B.I held a trick or treat party for the kids, and this was the first year that Percy, your son, was attending.

You both headed down to get Percy, teas in hand as you chatted. He cleared through security and ran into your arms, his little pumpkin pail discarded on the ground.

"Looks like we got a roller." You looked up to find a tall man grabbing the rolling pumpkin pail.

"Oh, thank you." He turned around and your mouth almost dropped opened. He looked just like your son.

"Spencer! I didn't know you were joining in on the celebration." Penelope exclaimed.

"Well Halloween is one of the best times of the year, plus JJ threatened me that I had to pass out candy this year." Spencer handed the pail to you, Percy's face still tucked into your chest. He smiled down at you then waved goodbye to Penelope before heading down the hall.

"Um, Penn... Who was that and why does he look like my son?"

She looked at you confused. "That's Dr. Spencer Reid. What are you talking about? They don't look the same."

"They look exactly alike!"

"I mean sure, they have some similar features but so does a lot of people." She shrugged and grabbed the reached-out hand that Percy gave her.

"I guess so..." You were unconvinced, but you shook it off when your son smiled up at you and waved his pumpkin pail around. You got up, and smiled back at him. "Lets get some candy, okay?"

Spencer looked down at the giant bowl of candy by his desk. The team had decorated the desks up and the meeting room upstairs had fun decorations for the kids to walk through. He never thought of passing out candy as fun but so far it hadn't been too bad. Penelope said she was going around with her friend from another department and her kid and to save some leftover candy for her but with how the bucket was looking, there might not be any left over.

He spotted Penelope's blonde hair peeking through the swarm of parents and kids along with the women he saw earlier. She was beautiful, and something about her seemed familiar but he couldn't figure it out which for him was irritating since he could always figure things out.

He saw them making their way over, stopping at each desk to collect candy. They finally made their way over to his desk, Penelope and the girl smiling down at the child who was hidden behind the line of kids at his desk. He looked up after a few kids and his heart caught in his throat.

The little boy looked just like him. But how, why?

The small boy smiled at him, giving out a trick or treat with a big smile, his brown curls bouncing as he raised the pumpkin pail up towards him, his body still frozen in shock. He quickly cleared his throat and gave a smile then poured some candy into the pail.

"I wike your costume. Look we have the same sonis!" The little boy waved his sonic screwdriver at Spencer, making Spencer laugh. They were both dressed as the 10th Doctor.

"I guess we do have matching ones!"

"Hey, Penelope. Can we talk?" It was a week after Halloween and Spencer finally caught Penelope alone.

"Sure, what can I do for ya?"

"W-who was that with you a few days ago for the trick or treating?"

"Oh, that was my best friend, Y/N, she works a few floors down."

"And the child with her?"

"Her son Percy, he's three years old. Why do you want to know?"

"She just looks like the girl I met at that night out at the club you dragged us to. And the child... well he looks like me." He sat down and Penelope looked at him with worry as his face went pale. "I can't help but think she was the one I had spent that night with... I was so intoxicated but she- well she looks like her... and maybe perhaps, Percy is mine." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Oh, Spence... I think you two should talk." Spencer nodded.

The coffee shop was loud, but it didn't seem to mind Percy as he sat there colouring. Since Halloween all you've thought about was him, how he looked like Percy, how he smelled of the same cologne that the man in your dreams did. You couldn't shake it off that he could possibly be the father, and neither could he, you've come to find out.

He had found you a week ago at your desk. At first, he was nervous, rambling about all the probabilities and their known percentages on how he could be the father. You had stopped him right off, giving him the dates of which everything happened. After that, he had calmed down a little, but it wasn't until you suggested a paternity test to ease his mind was when he totally calmed down, which you assumed that he was just in shock.

You had the paternity test done a few days later and Spencer wanted to meet at a coffee shop to go over the findings together. You were slightly freaking out. You knew you would be fine if it wasn't him, you had done three years alone without a man but what do you do if it was him? You didn't know him at all, besides physically. Would he try to take Percy away? Would he want nothing to do with you if you did find out Percy was his? You couldn't stop your mind from running wild.

You saw Spencer's curly head heading your way with drinks in hand. He sat down two lemonades in front of you and Percy and a coffee for himself. He sat down and pulled out a manilla envelope from his bag. "Are you ready?"

You nodded your head and pulled Percy onto your lap.

Spencer opened up the envelope and pulled out the stack of papers his hands shaking. "Here you read it, I read too fast."

You looked at him confused but grabbed the stack of papers he handed you. Taking a deep breath, you read what was in front of you, looking at him once you were done. "You're the father."

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid scenarios #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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