#when they had no choice but to keep living
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Newjeans Hanni smut (M reader) - the title is a hint to the TW.
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It didn't happen through a cliché.
Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she's stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.
What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?
Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn't begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…
"My apartment. My TV. My choice," you told her, as you have so many times before.
"But this film is supposed to be the best. It's got great reviews. Dani loved it..." Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It's an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.
"Hanni! What are you—"
"Just gimme the controller already!" She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn't reach; not that it stopped her from trying. "Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?"
You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. "Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off."
She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, "what the hell was that for?"
"What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?" You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—"
"You're sick." You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.
It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn't even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni's thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.
As much as you tried for it not to be, it's become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn't have to be up at the break of dawn.
It's your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.
Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.
The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn't even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.
She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn't your fault; they were just right there.
"Shit..." you muttered, catching Hanni's attention.
"Still alive there?" She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.
"Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb."
"You fell asleep after like ten minutes."
"Yeah, and it seems it didn't take long for you to use me as a body pillow."
Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.
"You're an idiot," she says. "Always have been."
You shrugged in reply, "And you're easy to tease, always will be."
"Asshole." She kicked at you.
She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.
"Let go! I'll kick you again. Asshole!" She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. "Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—" She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.
"Your what?" You asked.
Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. "Nothing."
She turned away from you. Just standing there. There's a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.
But you did it.
Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.
"Is that what I think it is?"
She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. "No! I... it's not mine. Minji loaned me one for... just to try... it's not." She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "This is... oh, god. This is so embarrassing."
Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. "Why'd you loan it?" You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.
"Because."
"Because what?" You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. "I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things."
Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. "The fuck?"
"And if you're going to use my laptop, try deleting the history." At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.
"Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?" She threw the cushion into your face.
You picked it out of the air. "Nothing." You lied.
"Bullshit!" Hanni swore. "Did you see everything?"
"Nothing at all..." you said sarcastically while standing up. "I definitely didn't see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week."
She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. "I hate you! You freak!" she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.
"Says the chick wearing a buttplug." You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.
"What happened to boundaries!?" She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her.
She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.
"You're an asshole, you know that!?" she shouted, holding onto her knee. You stepped closer, thinking she was really hurt. Until she used the chance to lunge at you and grab you. "What's wrong with a girl enjoying some fantasy? Not like I want to actually fuck you."
You realise now that the proper thing to do would have been to match her disgust. Tell her something along the lines of how the thought repulses you. Continued to tease her about how fucked it is that she would even look at that sort of stuff. The whole thing could have dissolved, but it's when she had hold of you, hammering her fist into your arm, that you said, "don't you?"
Then the long silence ensued. The one that said a hundred unspoken words. As her punches turned into light taps and then to her just holding onto your upper arm. She looked up at you with her pretty eyes open wide. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue rested on the bottom one as if she had something to say, but the words wouldn't come.
That's the first time you kissed her. Your own step-sister, a girl who should be off-limits in every conceivable way. Yet she opened her mouth and accepted you in that moment. The taste was so sickly sweet.
It was brief, but it told you everything you needed to know, and everything seemed to spiral from there.
First, there was the confusion. The immediate aftermath where you both let go of each other to turn away. Your backs turned on one another as the awkwardness reached its peak. Neither of you was willing to confess the enjoyment of that little exchange.
Then came the passing of the blame. First, it was Hanni who turned to you with a "What the fuck are you doing?"
And you replied with "Me!? You're the one who kissed me!"
She scoffed and shouted a response, "That was all you! Stop being such a perv, freak!" Hanni stomped past you towards her room, face half-full of anger and topped off with shame.
"I'm the perv? You're the one who I hear moan through the walls while, apparently, watching step-brother porn! I think that makes you the messed up one!” you called after her.
A pause. The hesitation. The possibility of confession. She reached her door, and it flew open. In she walked before slamming it closed with a, "you're sick!"
You stared at the door and vainly said under your breath, "you're the sick one." In your head you had realised the real truth to that; how maybe you're both sick because, as the dust settled, you can only think about a handful of things.
The kiss. Her ass. Her cute little tits.
You didn't see her again for the rest of the evening. She reserved herself to her room, while you resigned to the couch with nothing but the television keeping you company.
It had been a long time since you had a shouting match like that with Hanni. See, it used to happen all the time when she first moved in. The problem with a girl like her whose whole world revolves around singing, dancing, media training and beauty is that she lacks any sense of what it's like to be an independent adult. It seemed like the fights would never end, on account of her being seemingly incapable of washing a dish, her clothes or even cooking the most simple of things without burning it or setting something on fire.
But this? This is uncharted territory.
The night wound down, and you were headed to bed, but you found yourself outside her door. Your hand raised, ready to knock. Your breath held. Right when you finally built enough courage is when you heard it. Heard her. Moans muffled through the wood of her door. Your stomach knotted. Your groin twitches.
You lingered, unable to tear yourself away. Even as your logical side began arguing with you that you were in the wrong. That you're probably the worst sort of pervert imaginable and you should feel nothing but guilt.
The other voice, the more confident one; the devil on your shoulder told you that it's Hanni's fault. You had just warned her, and this is what she did in response, like it’s all some sort of game. You refused to admit to yourself that hearing her groaning, whimpering, and moaning through the wall influenced you—tempted you.
Louder and louder. Her voice raised higher, getting to the point where you knew she was practically screaming in the throes of pleasure. Harder and harder you grew. The rational side of you was saying that you should ignore it. Just go to sleep. Forget about it.
"Fuck!" she moaned, and you remained, listening through the door—lost in imagination.
Then you heard footsteps. Bare feet patting on wooden flooring coming closer and closer towards the door. A rush to retreat and you slipped toward your bedroom door. You barely reach the handle before the door across the hall opens.
There was a moment. The two of you locked eyes. Every fibre in your being fought against looking down.
"What?" she asked with a stone-cold expression.
"Nothing." You said, and your willpower broke. You glanced down. Completely naked, she stands at the door, her nipples peaked to fine little tips. And your gaze drifted down her soft curves and slender figure, her wide hips and full thighs.
"Nothing," she mocks.
Her eyes glanced down for a second, then back to your face, and her gaze narrowed. You panicked, dipped into your room and slammed the door just like she did earlier. You press your back to it, the cool wood against your burning body. Your mind raced.
Her feet slapped again against the wooden floor and headed toward the bathroom. That should have been that. You slipped into your bed, frustrated and confused. The sound of the shower running quickly drifted through the walls, but her cries from earlier replayed in your mind until you fell asleep.
That should have been that.
You woke to the darkness of the room—not the morning sunshine—sometime later. Half in a haze, not quite conscious yet, but something had roused you from your slumber: a movement under the sheets and a strange sensation. Warm and damp. Your eyes flicked open, adjusting to the darkness. Your hands jerked reflexively toward your groin and then your senses sharpened.
Someone between your legs. A warm and wet something sliding up and down the shaft of your hardness. Tongue? Yeah, a tongue. Your fingers reached and buried themself into hair. Stomach muscles spasmed as your hips thrust up on their own. Your lips parted as you moaned, "Fuck."
You glanced down.
Hanni.
Naked.
The tip of your cock at her mouth, lips pursed around it. Her smiling eyes sparkled and her skin glimmered, bathed in moonlight coming through the open curtains. Hanni giggled when your eyes met. Your hand dropped to her shoulder.
"Hanni..." Your throat choked dry, and you pushed at her shoulder.
"Shhh." The word whispered against your sensitive tip.
"What the hell are you..." You tried to ask, but Hanni shook her head before sucking in a breath. Then she drew the length of your cock into her warm, wet mouth and the question escaped you. "Holy shit," you gasped.
"This can be our dirty little secret," she said when she lifted her head, fingers stroking you. "We can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning, but for the rest of the night," her finger tickled down the underside of your cock as she spoke, "it can be as real as you want it to be."
You remember being convinced that it was a dream. Maybe one that you would wake up from with a mess in your shorts and, honestly, that probably would have been bad enough—having a wet dream about your step-sister. Reality intruded and threatened to drag you back from your delusion. Hanni took you into her mouth again and it was so very real.
There was no doubting the pleasure, and it was too good to make her stop. You took your hand away from her shoulder, allowing her to do as she pleased. Maybe if it was just a dream, you could allow yourself to indulge in the madness just one time…
"Fucking hell, Hanni." The words slipped from you, and with it, her warm mouth left your throbbing cock.
You peered down at her. She wiped the drool from the sides of her lips and smiled at you. Her eyes were wide as she lowered her head and slipped your dick into her warm mouth once more. Your body jolted as she put her tongue to work. She swirled the tip along the contours and ridges, then licked down the underside of the shaft and then right back up the top, leaving a thin film of saliva on your hardness.
She clasped her hand around you and it all felt far too real. Mixed emotions. There was a cold sense of terror in your heart, even with the heat of arousal radiating all over. The things she did with her lips and her tongue made you doubt your sanity.
"Does that feel good?" She said as she took a quick pause, stroking her hand along the full length. She had just caught her breath in the one moment where she stopped sucking, the first chance where her mouth wasn't busy trying to draw the soul out of you through the tip of your cock.
"You were right." She spoke almost as quickly as your mind spun. "About... the step-brother thing. It feels sick, and gross, and... wrong. It makes me feel dirty." Hanni pauses for a second, seemingly running her eyes over your body and then asks, "how depraved does it make me that it gets me really, really horny?"
Hanni had no clue that the same thoughts filled the back of your mind. Only that you weren't able to string it into words like she did. She was right. It felt really wrong, and yet there was a rush to do something that should never be done. This was where the next step began. The breaking of the boundaries. The perverse excitement in the face of the taboo.
Her hand reached out behind her and pulled back the sheets that covered her body. She was crouched between your spread legs, head still by your cock, her soft ass in the air. The cool light from the moon kissed her skin as she slowly slipped her fingers between her plump cheeks. "And this only made it worse. I've been so horny ever since I started wearing it."
Her hand moved slightly, just out of view behind her, and she let out a breathy moan.
"Hanni. What're you—
You're interrupted. "It hurt a little at first. Just a bit but you get used to it, and if it's in a good spot, if you hit it right..." She kept touching herself in front of you, and another breathy gasp escaped her lips and then she looked up at you still lying there. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"
That's when you stirred. Reciprocated. You sat up and she rose to meet you. In seconds, you were embracing. Frenzied. Wild. All teeth and tongues and roaming hands. Shorter than you. So much smaller. She let out a yelp when you grabbed her, though she instantly silenced it by shoving her tongue back in your mouth and kissing you deeply.
Pressed against your bare chest, her breasts felt small but supple, perfect little handfuls. Her waist is slender beneath your grasp. The thick flesh of her thighs was so full and shapely. When she opened her eyes, they had such want. Lust—pure and undeniable.
So close, and the faint whimpers at her throat are a seduction. You felt it was an invitation, and your lips kissed her chin, trailing kisses down her neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes..." she encouraged you lower. Your tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin, teeth grazing and then pinching softly. Her arms were tight around your head, nails biting into the base of your neck.
She trembled at your every caress, shook each time you teased a pert nipple. Gasped louder each time you nibbled her collarbone. You turned, lifting her, and then she fell back and presented herself to you. Her legs splayed open and her bare, wet cunt dripping, begging you to take it, but...
"No," you told yourself, "it's too fast," and you began a line of kisses down her stomach, beginning at her cleavage and trailing straight down her stomach. The muscles beneath her pale skin twitched and clenched in response and her breath had gone erratic. You reached her belly button and she hooked her legs over your shoulder, and when you dipped further she clenched her thighs and squeezed as you toyed with her.
You remember savouring the moment. Savouring the pleasure, savouring the veniality.
"Lower, please," she begged in the most needy voice. "Please, I... fuck, oh, fuck please..."
It's hard to describe it all.
Somehow, in the night, you both reached a state of understanding. A state of consensual debauchery that came with a sense of agreement; a pact signed with tongue on skin in this moment of depravity.
You kissed her, playfully moving between her legs. Thigh to thigh, to dangerously close to her wet core, and there you lingered. The air grew humid. Hanni's sweet scent filled your nose. You ran your hands up her legs and felt the warmth in your palms. She gripped onto the hair at the top of your head; her fists tightened.
"Why're you teasing me, asshole?"
Hanni's moans grew louder and more needy when you used your tongue against her. Her legs wrapped tight, hooking behind your back. There was something satisfying about her reactions to your actions, something exciting about seeing her squirm.
The tip of your tongue ran up the lips of her cunt, dipping between the fleshy folds and coming to suck upon her swollen clit. Her eyes widened at the touch, and her jaw slacked to the point her words went incoherent. Her whole body spasmed as she arched and moaned out something filthy.
One moment you had hold of her thigh, feeling her clench up and quiver, the next you found that your fingers had moved downward and pressed against her slick opening. At the slight touch of your fingertips to the tenderness there, a short cry slipped out of her again. She tightened and clenched around them as you pushed in deeper.
"Who's teasing?" you asked before you buried yourself to the knuckles in her.
A smirk formed, and Hanni was about to speak, but no words came. You pumped her at a steady pace, curling your digits within her while lapping at her clit. The taste of sin never tasted so sweet.
The combination drove her insane, and it didn’t take long until you were on the verge of making your step-sister cum.
You wrapped your lips around that swollen nub of hers and flicked it with the tip of your tongue, faster and harder, until her many moans became one, long, drawn-out and passionate, as a climax rocked through her.
Her ass lifted off the bed and her legs quivered, shaking uncontrollably while her fingers tugged painfully at the hairs on the back of your head. She jerked and gasped with a look of ecstasy on her face as she moaned your name over and over, almost reaching a scream. Your name on her lips again, and again, and you were drunk on this euphoria.
She released your head, and you postured over her, still slipping a pair of fingers into her, but slower. She drew a deep, trembling sigh and forced a smile, watching you. "I hate you," she managed.
"Do you?" you asked as you drew your cum-soaked fingers out of her. Her legs rested on your hips and the underside of your stiff cock was against her pussy. You reached around her hip, to her ass, to the plug still sat between her cheeks. Hanni hissed at your touch, biting her lip at the sensation.
"Yes. I hate you," Hanni whimpered, giving the softest moans as you tugged on the metal. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Why?" you asked.
"I just do," Hanni weakly gasped, struggling to stay strong in the moment. "You make me feel things. Things I shouldn't feel. It shouldn't be this easy."
"In that case. I hate you too, sis'."
There was this moment after you said that, where you shared a stare. Maybe the most confusing stare of your life. Calling her sis', in this position, should have been horrifying. And it was, but only at a peripheral level. Otherwise, it felt surprisingly... hot.
You dipped into her for another kiss, and this one seemed ever more ravenous than the last. You kissed with hunger and her hand ran around the back of your head. Kissed as lovers would. She was just as aroused as you and eager for more.
Slow and soft, you rocked yourself against her wetness. Your length dragged between her lips, up over her clit, and down again to poke at her entrance. You moved over and over, enjoying the tease.
The slow, sticky friction between the two of you. Her breath was sharp, as you slipped yourself over her and kissed at her neck. Every rock of your hips, she ground back against you.
"I think..." She hesitated. "Fuck. I think I'm ready. Just... go slow?"
The guilt of what's happened was a distant thing, a buzzing fly on a summer afternoon. The kind of thing that when you're so enthralled by something else, it becomes invisible. Then, with a nod and a shivering sigh, she reached down and gripped your cock. You bent back from kissing her so she could guide you.
Her tiny cunt. Her beautiful wetness. Her forbidden, decadent treasure.
Her breath was shaky. Her next words came out amid a tremble, "I've never... No one else."
You brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and ran your hand over her cheek. You gave her the reassurance she needed.
She told you, a few weeks later, how grateful she was that it was you. See, for all the filth that ran through her mind on an almost daily basis, she never imagined what it would be like. It being you—who you are and everything you meant to her—made it easy. Natural. Wonderful.
That first time, you took it all so slow. With her legs raised over yours. Watching the subtle changes in expression as you gradually moved more and more of your cock into her. Sinking deep between her pink, delicate walls. Your step-sister, panting and squirming beneath you.
"You okay?" you asked her.
"Ah... yes. This is... I love it," she responded between whining breaths.
It was just enough, the reassurance, so you could push into her the rest of the way. Her hand found its way to your shoulder; bracing as you eased in, her delicate frame tensing as you buried fully.
You watched her reaction and tried to be still as you felt her slick cunt pulse around you, wanting you. She swallowed and gripped you with the muscles within her. The second of respite didn't last long though; you weren't sure if it was a request or accident when her feet tapped against the curve of your ass, but it prompted you to fuck her.
"Feels... fuck." You sucked your breath between your teeth and braced yourself up on a shaky arm. You drew out slowly, and you noticed her nails digging into the arm you supported yourself upon.
You groaned in relief more than anything else as your hips pumped the shallow strokes that sent electricity through your body. She started pushing herself onto you as she clutched your back, drawing her heels over the small of your spine. You looked down to see her eyelids were flickering, and the sight only served to inflame you more. Her moans were so erotic and encouraging.
That first time, it was special. You took your time together to explore each other's bodies, the curves of hips, the muscles, the valleys and ridges. You caressed your stepsister's gorgeous body and then tried your best to put her through another climax, as if your efforts to reach your own were less important.
"Fuck you're so tight," you told her, during those final thrusts, buried to the hilt in her tiny, soft pussy.
She spoke, her voice weak and shuddering, "You're big... inside me..."
The fact that she held you tighter in her embrace and how it seemed that she refused to let you out of her even as she came apart was telling.
She came that night, again, this time all over your cock. The first of many times to come. A string of incomprehensible cries erupted from her in the throes of that first proper fuck. Hanni's thighs flexed around your hips. She clung desperately to your body as she cried into your mouth as she climaxed.
Not long after is when you felt it too, that impending release. A coil of pressure. Unfamiliar and intense. The mere thought of emptying inside her drove you mad. Your fingers dug into her hips as you fucked your step-sister with complete abandon.
"Don't. Not inside. Please, not inside," she murmured in an incoherent mantra of guilt and pleasure, right next to your ear.
You didn't, of course. You drove yourself right to the edge and pulled out. Her juices coated your length, slick and wet as your cock twitched in anticipation of the final moments. Hanni wanted your release as badly as you did. She took you into her hand for the finish, gripping tightly and jerking that first hot shot of cum onto her soft tummy. You thrust through her hand to let the pleasure course through you. Each thrust sent a long rope splattering onto her naked skin as she grinned up at you, flushed and sweaty, covered in your lust.
That was the first night, but definitely not the last.
The next morning arrived with Hanni in your arms—the little spoon. The little naked spoon pressed against your body. Skin to skin. She woke you with the slow rocking motion of her body, grinding her plump cheeks against you.
"I could get used to this," she whispered under her breath, smiling against the crook of your arm. "Good morning," she said to you over her shoulder. "Sleep well? You had some pretty naughty dreams last night, didn't you?"
You responded with your erection growing against the warm crevice of her butt and a gentle hum as her ass rocked over it. That was no dream. "I did," you said groggily. "As naughty as yours."
"Mmmm," is all she had as a response, lost in the pleasant distraction, grinding herself back into you even more. As she did so, you grew harder, until your stiffness pressed against the plug still wedged into her ass. Hanni had left it there overnight. "The thing about dreams is that they're easy to forget. Want to remind me of mine?"
You ran your hand down her thigh, and that's how the second time started. You caressed her flesh for a while, feeling the softness of her thighs while she silently lay there, patiently allowing you to enjoy her.
Then, you grabbed her by the knee, opening her legs and then she spoke, "Are you going to make your step-sister cum again?"
So quickly did she become so utterly shameless. You grunted in reply and then you held her leg up by hooking under the knee, and shuffled down slightly, letting your hard cock slip from between her cheeks and go between her legs.
You closed your eyes and leaned into her. Lips at her shoulders, the kisses soon trailed to her neck. She hummed as you ground your cock between her folds. Not even putting in the effort to try to actually enter her just yet, just teasing your stepsister for the moment.
Her voice filled with the sweet sound of passion.
Your heart began pounding and a flush rose to your cheeks. You could have written that first night off as a mistake. One you would regret, forget and never make again. Not after this. This is a definitive choice. One of sound mind and body, not under the tension of an argument or anything else that happened before.
This is different.
Hanni reached her hand down between her legs, pulling your cock so it would slip into her when you shift your hips. "Fuck me," she begged.
You did. You slipped inside her and heard her moan in such sweet ecstasy. She gripped the pillow she slept on the night before, burying her face in it, and moaning into it in such sweet rapture. "Fuck, yes, harder," Hanni moaned.
When she pushed her hips back onto you, her ass brushed against your belly. The rhythm began. Slow. Lazy thrusts. Enjoying every sensation in the post-sleep haze, savouring the fact that you knew how good she felt on the inside. How incredible her wet, silky, tight depths felt when you slid in and out of them.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your voice is low, near a growl. Your arms around your step-sister. It shouldn't, by all accounts, feel natural to have her like that, but it did.
"Yes, it feels incredible. Please don't stop." Your cock bottomed out within her. As deep as you could go. You groaned, and stayed there for a while, feeling your stepsister clenching down, her inner walls trying to pull you in further.
Hanni's hands gripped at the bedsheets, clutching tightly to them. The position pressed the metal of the plug between her asscheeks, and as your thrusting continued, the sensation sent a tingle through her body. It was a filthy combination. One that allowed every stroke you drove into her cunt to simultaneously send an equally blissful shock straight into her ass.
It was madness for her to indulge in the ecstasy—for both of you to lose yourselves.
You grew faster, and she unwound completely. She grew limp as she reached her climax. She couldn't even grip the bedsheets, or the pillow, her body simply submitting to the pleasure. She merely lay there as your hips battered against her soft ass, fucking her right through it.
Then she asked you, right after it subsided, "Ever fantasised about cumming on my ass before?"
The way she asked that made the question feel almost normal. "That the sort of thing they do in the porn you watch?" You slowed for a bit to deliver the tease.
Hanni couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips. "There was this one video where a guy put it all over his sister's butt. Seemed like he really liked it."
The fact she talked to you about the dirty things she likes helped it all along. It was the extent of her experience, the videos, but it helped. What it told you about what she really likes, what she enjoys... It became the basis for all your dirty experiments.
"That sounds hot. You have a cute ass."
She giggled to herself, rolling her hips, getting up onto her hands and knees and facing away from you.
You seated yourself onto your calves, giving her space and watching as she turned, giving you the view you craved. "I do?" She said as she glanced back over her shoulder, showing her innocence and naïvete in all its splendour. Her eyes sparkled and then a smile spread over her lips to match that look in her eye.
"The cutest," you told her as you kneeled behind her. One hand caressed the outside of her thigh while the other gripped the base of your cock. Eyes firmly set on that beautiful plump ass. That was the second time in just a few hours that you covered Hanni in your cum.
She watched every second as you did, barely managing a blink. Arousal and delight danced over her features in equal measure, and your name left her tongue in the form of a delightful, drawn-out groan. The effect was very apparent. With every streak and ribbon of white landing, she gasped and moaned while staring at the mess.
From that moment on, you entered regularity. It seemed like for months, every chance the two of you got to fuck, you fucked. Her room. Your room. The shower. The sofa. The kitchen. Against that window that overlooks the city's skyline. A public bathroom. A hand job in the car while you're stuck in traffic. Riding your face in a park, hidden among trees, grass, and bushes. Fucking, kissing, and biting until the both of you are exhausted and sore and dripping with sweat. It never ceased. Two insatiable appetites. Your mutual loss of control continued. The affair felt so exhilarating. An explosion of forbidden sin in an otherwise normal existence.
It all came with its fair share of close calls. That Saturday morning surprise visit from your parents where you answered their knock at the door and they invited themselves in, all while Hanni lies naked in your bedroom. How you sneakily warned her before she emerged and spun the story to them both about how she slept on your floor out of fear after watching another one of her horror movies. They bought it, of course, because they couldn't imagine there being any other explanation.
Then there was Hanni's near miss with her group. She told you all about how Minji had picked up on how something had changed with her; about how convinced Minji was that Hanni had found herself a boyfriend. About the look Minji gave her as Hanni protested, and finally how she got away with a half-truth.
She told the girls it was because of you and how you would work out together on weekends to make her feel better.
Everything was going so well, which made this week even more confusing.
It's been days since you last saw her. The longest you have gone in some time. Long hours and staying over with her members are one thing. Going days with no word or anything at all is another. She ignored your texts, never returned your calls, and stopped showing up at home like you'd come to expect.
No warning.
Nothing.
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How To Reach Your Destined Role? ~ Advice & Guidance on your journey through life.
Hi everyone, I'm finally back with another Pick a card! This time I am doing the PAC that the majority voted for and it is all about who are you destined to be? How can you get to that level? Or perhaps you already are there? Pick an image which draws you in and that shall be your pile!
This PAC took a lot longer to get around to than I would have hoped, but I had to put myself first as I'm sure you will understand between battling mental health struggles and then physical ailments, which have still not cleared up but hopefully I will get there soon! Still, I feel brighter and more energized mentally so I thought it was about time to get back on the horse, so to speak anyway without further rambling shall we get into the piles...
[ Image credit goes to ilikefairies ]
Pile One ~
[ Cards drawn: The Magician, The lovers, three of swords & the sun.]
[ Top Of Deck - Nine of cups. ]
Who are you meant to be: You are meant to be a free-spirited soul so do not worry about rushing into choices of who or what you are meant to be. Before I had even pulled any cards I heard the message in my head that you have lots of opportunities in this life and you can choose to be many different versions of yourself, many people get stuck into the mindset that there is only one version of themselves that can exist in this world but that is untrue, it is up to you who you want to be, exist in a way that brings you happiness. Now based on the image you chose and the messages the cards are sharing with me, I feel you are someone who is meant to bring more love, light and hope into this world by merely existing you do this but if you wish to be more proactive then read the next part and hopefully the messages will resonate for you.
How to get there: You need to become more aware of your power in this world, and how your actions and emotions can influence your days. How your thought patterns can affect your choices and beliefs. They either will push you onwards towards happiness and success or hold you back in stagnation and fear but when you work on finding your footing, grounding more in the present moment and working on having more confidence in yourself. seeing yourself as worthy and lovable on the bad days as well as the good then you come closer to the higher power that connects you with your soul. With the three of swords present you have gone through much despair and heartbreak, it has toughened you to this world which can indeed be cruel and though those experiences however sorrowful they were gave you much more perspective and wisdom on human nature and your own inner world they were not meant as punishment or as a way to put out your light. With the sun following this card I can tell that it is your loving energy and the fact you feel so deeply that can power you on to create brighter days not just for yourself but for others too, do not fear sharing your experiences or using them in your creations or hobbies to add inspiration to others life. All in all, I can see you living a good life, not without its challenges but a life like that is unlikely and perhaps boring! The final advice I hear is to keep working on yourself, masterpieces cannot be rushed and you should focus on what intrigues and brings you happiness in the moment, don't worry about having it all figured out too soon. Best of luck, my dear pile one!
Pile Two ~
[Cards drawn: Page of cups, Knight of cups, the Star & eight of swords]
[Top of the Deck: Ten of Cups]
Who are you meant to be: Okay, woah Pile two your energy is so happy and bright I love it thank you for letting me bask in it for a while!! If no one ever tells you that you are wonderful and lovable then let me please be the one to tell you now: You are wonderful and lovable in so many ways, thank you for existing!! Anyway on with your reading. So we have a lot of water energy going on here so right off the bat I can tell you are meant to be someone who values and uplifts your own as well as others' emotions. I keep hearing therapist in my mind and though I never intended this reading to be about careers perhaps that is a job you feel drawn to or perhaps you already seem to act like everyone's personal therapist in your day-to-day life. (I know that can get tiring so do put your own wants, needs and boundaries first if you feel that others are putting too much upon you.) I am now also hearing teacher and parent so yeah it may be in your destiny to help shape and mould the next generation into as bright and uplifting a soul as you are yourself. Now in a more general sense, I can see you are meant to be someone who always strives first to open others' eyes to truths in the world that others may want to turn a blind eye to, sometimes this may make you feel alienated and insecure of yourself but keep striving on and never back down for those who wish to put your down like to see you trapped in your insecurity and doubt it allows them to get away with all the malice they put into the world but you are far bolder and brighter than them and your presence, voice and actions help to bring forward a more hopeful future.
How to get there: Honestly Pile two I feel you are already on your way to getting there without much guidance from anyone else but I will say keep listening and feeling your emotions, honouring them as truth for it is how your intuition seems to let itself be heard. Keep working on your communication skills for I feel they are a skill you will be using quite a lot in the future or perhaps you already do. Finally don't be afraid of having a bad day, you are allowed to feel negative about things and it's totally okay to lean on others as much as they lean on you. Don't get so caught up in overthinking and doubts, or even worries about how to help others sometimes we have to let others make it through their own lessons in life, it is like the baby turtles who hatch on the beach and must make it to the sea on their own power and will, not all of them will make it but we can't intervene less we can cause more harm than good. That's all I'm getting for you pile two. I wish you the best and again I just love your energy so keep being you because it brings so much happiness to the world.
Pile Three ~
[ Cards drawn: The magician, The high priestess, seven of pentacles, four of cups ]
[ Top of the deck: The Tower ]
Who are you meant to be: You are meant to be someone who changes, themselves and the world. You are like a phoenix who rises from the ashes and is rebirthed as a newer, better you after every fall. I am also getting the visual of a chameleon who changes to fit their environment. This at times may have left to feeling confused or a sense of imposter syndrome but do not fear it is a skill and talent all in itself and it is not a wrong thing to be doing. It allows others to feel more comfortable around you so then in turn you can aid them in bettering themselves. Now to focus more on you, who this reading is meant to be helping I can see you are meant to a more spiritually in tune individual who listens and honours their mystical power, of which you have a lot. I feel many of you have been shamed or forced into behaving "sensibly" when you try to show this part of yourself as many cannot understand it and feel it doesn't help with the real world. Please stop listening to them, you would not have this connection to your higher self and the divine if it was not meant to benefit you and the world in some way. So feel free to behave as "woo-hoo" as you wish, the ones who value and respect you will stick around and those who behave in ways that try to condition and control you will eventually leave and you will be all the better for it!
How to get there: Work on listening to your intuition more, remember that intuition is a message that carries calm energy while anxiety will make you feel frantic and in the need to rush. You do not need to rush. As the seven pentacles show you need to cultivate patience and wait for the seed to grow. Trust that all that you are doing, even if at times it is having to sit and do nothing is helping to nurture and give your dreams and goals the best chance of success. I also feel you need to take more time to give yourself mental rest, let your mind grow still and quiet, focus on one thing at a time and seek more time for meditation. This in turn may help you feel more grounded and grateful for all you already have and all you have already achieved. Finally do not fear the tower falling, in the midst of the chaos it may feel like the end but you will begin to see it is simply the clearing of the unneeded and stagnated to allow for the creation of the brighter and better. From it you will always become wiser, stronger and yes even kinder.
I wish the best to all of you in pile three, I know the days may seem long and hard but try to focus on the simple gratitudes and you will begin to see the sun beam from behind the clouds. Until next time, Love Fae.
#divination#cartomancy#tarot#tarotblr#channeling#♡ messages channelled from the divine ♡#pick a card#pac#free tarot reading#tarot readers#tarot cards#tarotcommunity#tarot witch#pick a reading#pick a card reading#pick a card tarot#how to reach your destined role pac#destiny tarot
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I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY
✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)
✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)
✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.
✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.
Bright.
Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.
You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.
Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.
Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up. The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.
There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.
Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.
When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.
The conversation is easy.
“Does that mean you trust me now?”
Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”
“See you later.”
“See you.”
You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.
__
You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.
He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.
(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)
You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.
You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.
He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.
He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.
You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.
He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.
“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”
You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.
Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”
Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”
He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”
“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”
The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”
You look proud again. “What? Fun?”
Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”
You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.
He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.
When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.
His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”
“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”
His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”
You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”
He cuts you off quickly.
“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”
The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.
“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.
__
Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.
You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.
It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks. Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.
You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.
He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.
The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.
A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.
“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”
That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”
Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”
There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.
(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.
He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)
You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”
It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.
“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”
You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”
“Why?”
“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Why not?”
“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”
He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.
He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.
Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”
He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.
He finds it suits you.
A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.
You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.
“That was so bad!”
“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.
“I like your laugh, by the way.”
He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”
You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.
“I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”
You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”
He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”
You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.
“I like your laugh, I think.”
You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”
He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”
He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.
“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”
“Nevermind. Shut up.”
You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”
The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.
“So you do like coding.”
“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”
The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.
We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.
__
Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.
He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while, but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.
So its fine. He won’t waver.
He’ll just.. call you.
He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.
You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.
“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?” You ask, after probing.
“In a way that matters, yes.”
You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.
He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.
“I don’t think that little of you.”
He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.
“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”
You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”
He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.
“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”
You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”
It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.
It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.
These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.
(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.
Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.
He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)
He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.
“Is it really that easy for you?”
You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”
“Is that what you’re doing with me?”
“What?”
“Is this…?”
He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.
Oh.
Oh.
__
The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.
It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.
Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.
Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.
The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.
__
You call him every day.
You’ve been doing it for months.
He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.
You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.
There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.
He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.
You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.
You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.
“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.
“Yeah?”
You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.
“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”
He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”
You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”
He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.
“Want help looking?”
“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”
“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”
You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hater.”
You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.
“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”
Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.
“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”
He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.
“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”
His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.
“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.
“So you don’t want to date me?”
“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”
Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“How long is that, exactly?”
You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”
“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”
Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.
__
He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.
Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.
After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.
He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.
Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.
You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.
The anticipation nearly kills him.
He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.
“It’s you!”
The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.
“Hey.” He says, dumbly.
“Hi!”
__
The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.
It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.
He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.
Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.
The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.
“Whats your love language, Od?”
He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”
“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”
He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”
“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”
Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.
“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”
You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”
“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.
“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”
He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.
“Have some faith.”
He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.
“Your room or mine?”
“What?”
You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”
He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”
“Just trust me, okay?”
He concedes with embarassing swiftness.
“Okay.”
__
You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.
Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.
The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.
Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.
“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.
“Touching each other.”
He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”
He nods. Can’t do much more than that.
He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.
Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.
It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.
“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.
You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?
You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.
Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.
You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.
Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.
“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”
He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”
You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”
__
You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.
It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.
He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.
__
He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.
Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.
He fails in his attempt not to blush.
“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.
“Yeah. Morning.”
You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”
Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”
✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL
this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾
#seekL x reader#odxny x reader#seekL#odxny#girl how the hell am i meant to tag this#normal fandoms tagging ettiquette means no fic but i dont think it applies here#what is my problem so genuinely
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Frat!Rafe Cameron x sporty! fem reader!
As Kiara’s older sister, gifted athlete and now college student, you never had time for dating. Or time to acknowledge your secret crush on Rafe Cameron. But when your eighteen year old little sister visits, she pushes you to attend one of his parties.
W.C. 2.4k. I was requested by anon for inexperienced!reader! And size kink! I hope you enjoy!! I lowkey wanna burn this lol
Warnings! I am NOT an athlete by any means so this is very vague lol. Size kink! Inexperienced reader! Manhandling, slapping kink! (Rafe likes to be slapped) degrading, praise, oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Reader is sporty and frequently works out. Kiara is also OOC but it’s my fic lol. Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx
Getting a visit from your parents and little sister motivated you for the performance as you accepted flowers and praise after the competition. Your mother and father finally allowed Kiara to stay the weekend with you on campus, you managed to convince them that your eighteen year old baby sister would be completely safe with you.
You knew they were mostly attempting to keep her away from Pogues back home but with your down to earth nature she felt comfortable to get along with you.
“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time studying something else. Why don’t you go to a fancy art school or some shit? Follow your dreams!” Kiara flopped on your bed in your dorm and you sighed.
“Because. Sports aren’t a long lasting career choice for me. Besides, if you want to live with me, I need to have a good paying job, right?” You countered as you sipped a protein shake.
“You need to stop thinking about everyone else. Think of yourself. You don’t have a life. All you do is study, work and compete. You’ve got to be so bored.” She argues, folding her arms.
“I’m not bored, Kiara. I stay busy and I’m fine with that. And I do have a life! I have a few friends and I have you.” You mumble and she lifts herself up, walking over to you and lightly elbows you.
“You know how much I hate them, they’re a waste of money that could be used for donations but what about parties? Have you gone to any?” Rolling your eyes, you groan at her lecture.
You knew she was jealous of your freedom, considering her relationship with your parents and her full time job. But she also didn’t understand you. The pressure you’d always been under. At a young age, you were in gymnastics. Building your body like a machine while you spent everyday challenging yourself to meet your next goal. And you were good at it.
Your wall was covered in medals, your shelf had a few trophies and photographs of your proud moments.
Dancing was a natural evolution for you. Something you’d discovered when one of your gymnast friends opened their own studio after graduating high school a few years ago. The fluidity of movement, the tempo of the beat and music brought you to life. You were strong, frequently at the gym to keep up with having to flip yourself around in the air with your part time job that was physically demanding.
Your life was fast paced, a competitive streak in your blood motivated you to remain disciplined and focused. Your guilt for being so busy was one of the reasons you wanted Kiara to stay with you this weekend. But she did have a point.
You didn’t have time for dating. You’d never had a boyfriend, guys in the past weren’t exactly pleased that you could fairly put up a physical fight given your athletic lifestyle and razor sharp drive. Men found you…boring. You had an obsession with Halloween and darker things too. It was a nice change from the neon uniforms you were forced to wear.
Her question about parties reminded you of a instagram post you were tagged in yesterday and Kiara must have sensed your train of thought. “Don’t tell me you were invited to one and you’re not gonna go?”
“I’ve been too busy! Plus I wanted to hang out with you-“
“It’s tonight?” She shrieked and started shoving you to your bedroom. “What the hell are we doing? You need to get ready.”
“Kiara, I’m not going to some stupid party. I’m tired from dancing earlier and besides Rafe Cameron isn’t going to notice one person who doesn’t show up.”
“I fucking knew it. You’ve been crushing on that asshole for years. That’s why you were so happy you got into this school.” She accused and you defensively shook your head.
“No I haven’t-“
“Me and Sarah knew you liked him when you shoved him in the pool years ago when he was messing with us when you were life guarding. And that’s why you always offered to babysit during high school. You just wanted to be near him.” Kiara made your jaw drop and you turned away.
“That’s not true! He’s a dick! Why would I like someone like Rafe? That’s why I’m ignoring his invitation.” She extended her hand.
“Let me see the post.” You grumbled something about how your little sister was the one bossing you around and you slapped your phone in her palm.
She read the invite with her mouth parted. “It’s a fucking Halloween themed party? You can dress up and you’re not going? He’s obviously obsessed with you.” You yank your phone back.
“What are you talking about? He’s not!”
“He was there tonight. I saw him watching you dance in the crowd.” You gasped and you felt your cheeks burn. “And now, he’s doing something knowing you like it. Get out of those damn sweatpants and put on something cute. You’re going to that party.”
“No I’m not! I don’t like Rafe Cameron and listen here you little goblin,” Kiara ignored you as she dug through your drawers for another set of clothes.
She tossed you an oversized shirt with skulls on it, knee socks and your converse. “Here. This is good.”
“Why do you want me to go so badly? You hate Rafe!” You complained and she waved her hands.
“Yeah I do. But I want you to have fun. Let loose for one night. Show off what you worked for and finally put yourself first.” You raised an eyebrow.
“You really wanna talk to someone don’t you and you don’t want me hovering?” She was finally silent for a few seconds and you smirked triumphantly. “Fine. I’ll go to this damn party.” You walked away, preparing to change clothes but you gave her a light smack upside the head.
“Ow! The hell was that for?” She whined.
“For telling me what to do.”
You felt your heart in your throat as you knocked on the door of the house where the party was held. You could hear the sound of music and chatter from behind the door as you shifted your weight from leg to leg.
Your face was covered in makeup and your jewelry dangled from your neck as you waited. The entrance opened and Topper ushered you in. “Hey! Look who it is! The girl of the hour!” His arm slung around your shoulders and the bustling crowd cheered. You awkwardly smiled and waved. Girl of the hour?
“Cmon. Rafe is upstairs.” Just the mention of the males name made you swallow thickly and you followed him. A lot of people were wearing costumes, fake blood and merchandise from scary movies.
You recognized Rafe because of his clothing and body but his face was covered. He was wearing a Ghostface mask. Plain black shirt and jeans. Your eyes widened briefly when he turned, noticing you before you smoothed back your nerves and approached him. He met you half way and looked down at you, mask tilted.
“You did show up after all, princess.”
You give him a smile. “Yeah I did. I heard you were at the dance. Did you like what you saw?” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from but he seemed to be enjoying it. Rafe stepped a little closer, “Oh I loved it, baby. That’s why I told everyone to dress up. Gotta celebrate my little champion, huh?”
“Champion?” You parrot and he chuckles.
“Of course, Angel. You think I’m stupid or something? I’ve been a big fan of yours for a while. I couldn’t wait to get you here so I could have you all to myself.” He trails off quietly and you feel his big hands settle on your hips, squeezing lightly.
“Well, we’re not alone,” You respond and he tugs you against him, as much as you love the mask, you wanna rip it off.
“Easy fix, baby girl. C‘mon.” Instead of walking, Rafe lifted you off the ground and you squeaked. Throwing you over his shoulder, he walked through a hallway before opening a door.
Rafe easily tossed you onto the bed, the plush covers and pillows bounced. You shakily sat up as he tore off the mask and looked down at you with a dark smolder.
“Oh, princess. You have no fuckin idea how long I’ve wanted you in my bed.” He leaned down and put both hands on either side of you as you looked up at him, doe eyes staring into his.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why would you like me? I’ve never told you-“
“Like you? Baby, I don’t just like you. I think about you all the time. No one else has made me feel like this. You’ve always stood up to me and didn’t put up with my shit. You think it’s a coincidence that I liked to push your buttons when we were kids?”
You’re breathless as he tugs on the end of your shirt with a smirk.
“I like a girl who pushes back. You’re my strong girl, hmm? But not tonight. You’re not in control for once. I am.” He grips your waist, your bare skin from your top pulled up and your core pulses.
You reach up, lightly smacking him in the face. “You think you can earn my submission?” Rafe gives you a chuckle and flash of excitement crosses his eyes.
“Princess, by the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be my little fuck toy. You just wanna push my buttons so I throw you around.” His words turned you on more and you shudder as goosebumps rise on your skin. “Slap me again. Get a good one in too.”
“You serious?” You whisper and he nods.
“What? You too scared?”
You slap him. Hard. Hard enough that his face turns but Rafe doesn’t look angry. “That was a good one, baby. But I’m gonna make you forget any other fucker. I’m sure all those other dudes are all over you at the studio or some shit.” He grunts and tugs off your shirt. Exposing your torso and bra.
You have the urge to cover yourself but you resist. “I don’t have time for dating.”
Rafe pauses and raises an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you haven’t dated? You a virgin?”
You bristle. “No but…it’s only happened once.”
Rafe cups underneath your arms and manhandles you higher on the bed. You don’t have time to breathe before you find yourself pinned with your arms above your head, his face inches above yours. “Bet you’re soaked right now. Underneath those panties you wear.”
He reaches in between your legs and cups your cunt. “God damn, princess. This what you needed? Me to take care of you? Shut off that overthinking head of yours?” He muses and you cup his face bringing him down to fuse your lips together in a messy kiss.
He moans against your mouth and shoves his tongue inside, you separate your legs and tug him closer.
“Gonna taste more than your mouth, baby girl.” He promises and kisses down your body, peeling off your underwear.
“I’m gonna worship this perfect pussy. I’m gonna take such good care of my girl,” He mutters against your pelvis. Rafe shoves your thighs apart and buried his head in, making you groan and dig your fingers onto the sheets.
His tongue laps hungrily at your clit, sucking in all your wetness as he moans and grinds on the bed. You whimper as he fucks you with his mouth.
“You like that, babydoll?”
“Mhm! I’m gonna cum,” You stammer and he lifts up, his massive body flexing as he rips off his shirt. Exposing his fit body.
“You’re gonna cream on my dick, then you’re gonna clean it up. Are you going to be a good little whore?” He breathes and you whine.
“Mhm, yes. Please, fuck me. I need it so badly. I want you to fill me up,” You beg and he shoves off his pants. His big, thick dick slapping against his thigh.
“How can I say no to such a pretty girl?” He gives your bare ass a slap before he pumps himself a couple of times, his cock in his fist before he presses into you.
You mewl and bury your head in his neck. He growls and thrusts, hard enough that you almost feel like you’re gonna burst from how big he is. But he quickly adds his fingers to rub your clit.
“This fuckin pussy is mine. It’s so tight, splitting you in two, baby girl. Gonna breed this perfect cunt.” He huffs and your eyes squeeze shut as your peak rises.
“That’s it, princess. Cream on my dick.” He praises and your climax overwhelms you.
You cry out and sink your teeth into his naked shoulder and he moans. He moves harder, bringing slight pain but it only adds to your pleasure. He spills in you, “Gonna stuff you so full of cum you’re gonna be a brainless little doll.”
Rafe pulls out, pumping himself again as cum drips onto the bed. “Give me that pretty mouth, princess. I wanna see your eyes roll back. You can fuckin take it. Like a little champion.”
Tagging @marchsfreakshow @xxbimbobunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @gri959 @rafesthroatbaby @slvt4jamesmarch
#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic
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A/N: an au where Buckys a mechanic, requested by anon 🫶🏻
pls don’t hate me for how short this is but i wanted to get it out 😭
i wanted to leave this one kind of open and not a lot of detail! i feel like with how i decided to end this one, there’s definitely options for it to keep going if this is popular enough 👀
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please send me a request for any Marvel character! or vikings characters too! i’m open to just about any request!
TW: flirting, shyness, embarrassment, kissing.
-
A warm summer day seemed like the perfect time to go for a drive, but that was proving to be a bad idea as your car rumbled angrily rolling into the parking lot of a small town mechanics shop an hour and a half from where you live. “This has to be just my luck..” you grumble to yourself as you step one foot at a time out of your car, pushing the door closed and walking around, heading towards the shop.
You definitely stood out here with your tight fitting gym leggings and sports bra top, your typical gym attire that felt normal to wear in a gym of strangers working out just like you. But now that you were the only person dressed like this, you felt a small bit of insecurity boiling in your stomach at the thought of eyes on you. If you hadn’t needed help with your car to get back home, you wouldn’t have even made the stop but you felt you had no choice but to have it quickly checked out.
All of the car bay doors are open but not a soul is in sight, the assumption passing through your mind that everyone may be in the office of the shop hidden behind darkly tinted windows. A bell jingles just above your head as you push the slightly heavy metal and glass door open, the smell of oil and something hitting your nose. It takes a quick sweep of your eyes to see there’s three men behind the long desk in the center of the room, another man standing in the doorway leading to the garage where they work. It seems as though your presence makes the atmosphere go quiet.
The man standing in the doorway to the garage catches your eye, almost makes your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. He has beautifully messy brown hair and striking blue eyes, gorgeously muscled arms that are crossed over his tight broad chest. You’ve never seen anyone like him and you really wish you could get a better look at the name patch on his black button down work shirt that’s completely opened, exposing a white tank underneath. The only letters on the patch you can see are a B and Y, your brain wracking for names.
As your brain is trying to piece together a name, you offer a quick and soft friendly smile to the men, clearing your throat gently. “Hi uh- I was.. I was having some issues with my car while on a drive and this was the closest shop I could get to. I was afraid it may breakdown, is there anyone that might be able to take a look at it?” You get out, shyness taking over your senses as your cheeks begin to feel warm, knowing they’re slowly beginning to glow red.
Out of the corner of your eye you can see the man in the doorway shift his weight on his feet as you maintain eye contact with the man right behind the desk. “Why of course ma’am, Buck, you mind going with her and seeing if we can’t help her out?” The man politely asks, clean blonde hair slicked back and just as piercing blue eyes as, who you assume is Buck, has. He’s the one to make a move, pushing himself off the doorway he’s leaned against and taking a step forward, unfolding his arms.
“Of course, not a problem.” Buck offers you a friendly smile as your eyes meet his and it feels as though your stomach does a thousand flips in just seconds. You already know with as awkward as you are, this may not end very well.
You follow behind Buck, just a few steps away, back out of the shop door and towards your car in the small parking lot. “So, what’s going on with it?” He speaks up, the sound of his deep warm voice making your bones tingle.
“I uh.. I was driving down the highway when it started to shake and it kind of smelt like something was burning. Then the check engine light came on the further I drove so I decided it was best to try and find a shop somewhere as close as I could.” You explain, unlocking your car and handing Bucky the keys. You watch as he gets in the driver seat, flipping the key in the ignition just enough to turn the dash on.
After the check engine light comes on, he gets out and motions for you to wait just a second before heading towards one of the open bay doors. He grabs a little handheld machine from what you presume is his area of work before heading back towards you to plug in this machine to your car in hopes it’ll tell him exactly what the check engine light is for.
As he’s waiting for the machine to load you have a second to watch his features and look him over, admiring the way the sun glistens off his skin and makes his hair shine too. You can see the peak of pale white skin under the sleeve of his work t shirt he’s wearing, a line where his tan starts and ends, making a smile form on your lips.
He glances up just seconds before the machine loads, to catch your eyes on him before you quickly look away in embarrassment, wondering if you’d just been caught being a creep. Though in Bucky’s mind, he’s dying to get a good look at you just as you have him.
“Hmm, this isn’t good..” Bucky says once he’s looked down at the handheld, reading what it’s telling him. “You’re having transmission problems.” He explains, glancing back up at you for a second. Your eyes widen then lower as you listen to him, nodding your head.
“That’s expensive isn’t it?” You ask with a soft laugh, pushing your stray hairs out of your face as you glance your car over. “Is it possible for me to make it home? I’m about an hour and a half away.” You ask, chewing on your bottom lip afraid of the answer.
Bucky makes a soft noise with your second question, eyes meeting yours and he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “You might be lucky to make it another thirty to forty five minutes, but not the whole way home.” He says, unplugging the machine and standing up, eyes drifting down your body as you’re not paying attention to him.
“Let me go talk to my boss, Steve, and see if we can’t work something out to where we can fix your car and get you home for the night, okay?” Bucky offers, sensing a feeling of stress coming from you though it seems to ease with his offer.
“Oh you don’t have to do that! I wouldn’t expect for you to have to worry about getting me home, that’s sweet though, thank you.” You tell Bucky, a giddy smile on your lips at the thought of him going as far as to getting you home safe.
Bucky chuckles and he shakes his head, rough hand running through his hair as the two of you make your way back towards the shop. “Steve might actually write me up if I just let you be to figure it out yourself.” He grins, looking to you. “And anyways, helping a pretty girl like yourself is no weight on my shoulders.” He offers a playful wink that makes your cheeks heat again.
With the nerves that Buckys wink has sent through your body, you stumble over your own two feet stepping back into the shop, nearly face planting onto the stained tile flooring but a strong hand catches you from behind, pulling you into his broad body to bring you back into a standing position. Even more nerves run through you, but the good kind of nerves. The kind that make you yearn for the feeling again and again.
“Watch your step darlin, don’t need you takin a trip to the hospital too.” His breath fans across your ear but you steady your feet to take a step away from him to maybe calm the pounding of your heart in your chest, trying to feign a prideful smile.
“I’m okay, I got it.” You laugh, Bucky hesitating a second before he steps around you and towards the desk where Steve is watching the two of you intently, a knowing smirk on his lips.
Bucky leans half across the desk so there’s little space between him and Steve, keeping his voice fairly low. “Listen, her cars having transmission issues. It’s gonna need a decent fix and she’s an hour and a half from home, let me give her a ride and I’ll work on the car for the night.” Bucky whispers, watching the way Steve’s expression grows even more knowing.
Steve slightly glances around Bucky at you, standing there glancing around the shop waiting room like a lost duck. He gives a soft little laugh and he nods his head at Bucky. “Go ahead, just, hurry back. You do have work to do. No dilly dallying.” Steve says, raising his brows at Bucky and Bucky grins wide at his friend and boss. “You’re the fucking best, man.” He nods, patting Steve’s shoulder and turning around back to you with a smile.
“You okay with me giving you a lift? Of course as small as this town is, a taxi won’t come all the way out and take you back.” Bucky says and you shrug your shoulders. “Id really appreciate a ride back.” You nod, smiling at him and he pulls keys from his pocket.
“You can grab whatever you need from your car, we should be done with it in a day or two depending on everything wrong.” Bucky states and you head back to your car as he heads around the building to pull his old model Chevy around to the front. With your purse and gym bag from the trunk, you climb in the passenger seat of Buckys truck, him patiently waiting for you to settle and get buckled before pulling onto the highway and back towards your town.
-
#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james barnes smut#james barnes imagine#james barnes#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan smut#seb#sebastian#sebastian stan#marvel imagine#marvel smut
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Been a while since I last made a fic rec list, and I recently went through all the newer bagginshield works on AO3, so I wanted to share some of my favourites! These are all amazing, please go give them a read if you haven't already! 💛
These are all completed, but if anyone is interested I might also do a list of incomplete works in progress that I'm feral about as well!
~
"Green-Handed" by lotusOkid
Post-BotFA, while Thorin, Fili, and Kili are slowly recovering from their wounds, Bilbo finds himself subject to a condition that hobbits might experience at a few very particular times in their lives, under very particular circumstances, none of which apply to him. Very confused (and somewhat embarrassed) he decides to keep it a secret during this delicate time in the mountain. This goes about as well as you might expect.
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"The Burden of Choice" by @fantasyinallforms
Thorin Oakenshield is the crown prince of one of the strongest kingdoms in Middle Earth, but in the last year, the kingdom has struggled to keep its place among the ruling powers of Middle Earth. Erebor was held under vicious siege by the dragon Smaug, who terrorised the land and wiped out the nearby human settlement of Dale. The hardship forces Erebor into a difficult position, creating no other choice but for King Thror to seek alliances with other kingdoms and races through the bonds of marriage. Will Thorin see this as his duty to his kingdom or take another path entirely?
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"No Grave Can Hold My Body Down" by @chaoticangel666
Bilbo returns to The Shire after the Battle of the Five Armies. He might be going insane though, because why does the ghost of Thorin Oakenshield keep showing up when he least expects it?
Follows the events from the end of The Hobbit until the end of The Lord of the Rings.
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"Handsome Stranger" by kriegswaffel
A handsome stranger arrives at Hobbiton, both reminding and distracting Bilbo Baggins from the upcoming negotiations between a Dwarven Envoy all the way from Erebor and the official-inoffical leadership of the Shire regarding trade.
As he gets more wrapped up in matters, can he find something true and lasting with someone so different - and maybe entirely different from what he expected? Or will he get his heart broken again, at long last, having hoped where there was no hope, or even only betrayal?
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"What's In A Name" by broken_pencils
A short scene that takes place post-canon, in which Bilbo and Thorin discuss the uniquely hobbit custom of family surnames.
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"And Watch Them Grown" by @sunnyrosewritesstuff
Thorin survives his battle to find Bilbo laying unconscious in the snow. Unable to carry him down, Thorin leaves him with his ring on to get help. Only he doesn’t make it very far before collapsing. Waking in the healing tents, Thorin comes to realize no one made it back up to save Bilbo!
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"The Kitchen Thief" by @mordellestories
There are pests.
At first, Thorin thought one of his assistants was stealing from him. And that may have been why he was a bit harsher on them than what was deemed necessary. But one by one, the workers were replaced only for the goods to keep vanishing into thin air. It was driving him to madness. And when Thorin wasn’t at peace, everyone knew it. So, it had to be pests, right? Pixies, brownies, rats, something was pilfering his hard work and it was happening more often as time went by.
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"The things you see in the market." by GothicMama
Krelven just wants to explore the market on his day off. But instead he gets thrown for multiple loops when he sees two extremely familiar faces.
#bagginshield#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#thorin oakenshield#thilbo#fic recs#fic rec#if you're one of the authors and want your tumblr linked just let me know!
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˖⋆✶Kissing Him Our Colors✶⋆˖
Lucilith x Female!Concubine!Reader (Lilith x Reader x Lucifer)
Content warning: Heavy teasing, groping, marking (kiss marks/hickies), sexual themes, sexual innuendos, no smut, polyamory, minors do not interact (MDNI), fast proofread
Summary: In your relationship with Lilith, marking one another with crimson or black kiss marks had been your signature sign of affection since the beginning. What will change when Lucifer poses a hypothetical question with an obvious implicit meaning?
Author Notes: Thank you @damsel-loves-machines for the inspiration to write this one shot! I'm definitely going to be writing a follow up concubine one shot off your more recent post but, it's going to be a little while before I get to that (too many projects!). Enjoy this in the mean time!
Word Count: 5083
To be the king or queen’s lover was an achievement sought after by the masses; both sinners and hellborns. A quick claim to fame. At some point in their long lives they had both begun taking new partners to their beds. Most held the title for extended periods of time as Lilith and Lucifer were both particular with their partners and once they found someone they enjoyed, they tended to hang on for a while. Not that there wasn’t the occasional individual rumored to have warmed one of their beds.
In the centuries since the royal’s opened their relationship though, there were whispers of 3 individuals, all of them hellborn, who had held an official title of concubine. For the title, you had to win both the king and queen over and tend to the both of them; separately and together. The title was coveted despite neither Lucifer nor Lilith ever having confirmed such individuals existing.
When you had first heard of the royals taking lovers, and the whispered concubines, it had been a fantasy you entertained in your free time. You had always been confident of your body and sexual prowess -you were certain lust had been your downfall sin- but, you were never delusional enough to consider angling for the position. Considering the rate of sinner lovers was so drastically low it was basically unrealistic. You also knew fanangling yourself into their lives would come off as desperate and that just wasn’t a look you were willing to wear. No, you were happy fantasizing about the power couple and seeing them occasionally at rallies or events.
It had been entirely coincidental you had met the king and queen one night when they came into the restaurant you served at and were seated in your section. Even more of a miracle that you not only had the audacity to question the queen’s choice of wine but, that you had enough charisma to smooth over your transgression. Promising she would much prefer your recommendation based on the snip-its of her preferences you had gleaned from her indecisive rambling at the king. Trying not to break out in a sweat as Lucifer violently glared you down from his seat, hints of horns poking from his forehead when you had challenged the royal.
You can still vividly recall her eyes rolling back into her head after having sipped the wine you gambled your life on. The lusty sound of her satisfied sigh that rolled from her lips after having left the most beautiful black lip marks on the ring of the glass.
“My dear…” her voice low and sultry as her eyes opened to give you a half lidded look, “you have exquisite tastes.”
“Thank you, my queen.” You offer a small smile and bow, making sure you didn’t break out in a full grin or groan out in relief. You couldn’t stop yourself from adding, intentionally or not, flirting. “I’m here to ensure my guests have the most pleasurable experience possible.”
Her lips had curled in an almost cat-like grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The silky purr having tickled your ears as she swirled the glass of wine slowly in her hand. Her expression evolved from indifferent to amused while Lucifer sneered at the exchange.
The next time you had seen Lilith, she had come back to the restaurant for lunch a week later on her own and had requested your company as she ate. It had taken her almost 3 hours to eat the small bites of food between the almost unnaturally easy flowing conversation.
The marking had all started that day.
As she had been getting ready to leave, you had gently taken her hand in yours and bowed, bringing her hand to your lips leaving a bright red kiss mark on her knuckles. As you straightened, you had smiled at her and told her, “A promise that I’ll answer should you ever decide to call on me again, my queen.”
Every encounter after that contained one of you, or both, leaving a kiss mark on the other; Lilith in her signature black lipstick and yours had become the crimson red you had dawned that day. The playful, prominent display you both unabashedly wore. A kiss on the cheek before going out together. Sliding down a sleeve to leave a hidden mark prior to an event. A kiss to the side of the knee. There soon weren’t any areas off limits.
Some of the times making promises that you both would ensure were fulfilled. Never a promise neither of you couldn’t.
All the while, Lucifer had been slowly growing use to your presence. He had kept his distance in the beginning due to his known dislike of sinners but, the longer you stuck around the more he seemed to relax. When you once couldn’t enter a room without him slipping out, you now could hold a small conversation with him about some of the events going on that day, before he would excuse himself. He used to turn his nose up at your attempt to make him breakfast and now he would periodically make requests. The three of you had even started having dinner one or twice a week with Lilith’s encouragement.
You had also noticed that when he was around the two of you, he would watch the both of you and seemed to have taken a particular interest in the marking. You hadn’t caught on to it at first, being so smitten with Lilith your focus had been entirely on her. The first time you recall seeing it though, it had been so fleeting it almost hadn’t even pinged on your radar.
“Say ah my queen~.” a gentle instruction as you had held up a strawberry to Lilith’s lips. She had giggled and parted her lush, ink black lips and took her bite of the strawberry. A bit of the succulent fruit’s juice slipped past her lips racing towards her chin.
You hadn’t even thought twice about grabbing her chin to turn her head. Leaning in to slowly lap up the nectar before planting a firm, red mark in its place. Your voice low as you growled out, “Delicious.”
She gave you a half lidded look, lightly biting her smirking lip. She reached over to your free hand and placed it on her knee before slowly sliding it upwards. “I have something else for your that’s delicious.”
It was at that point you caught Lucifer out of the corner of your eye observing your flirting. His lithe body, propped up against the door frame with his hands in his white sweatpant pockets. You hadn’t been able to catch his expression though, from what you could tell of his posture, he had been at ease watching the situation. As you turned, he was already walking towards the two of you. “Good morning ladies.”
“Morning my love.” Lilith responded, reaching for Lucifer with the hand that wasn’t on yours, to kiss him. Her lipstick transferring to his pearl white lips along with a small portion of your red. She grinned seeing not only her mark but yours as well.
“Good morning my king.” You grinned and shook your head at her antics, though refrained from telling him. You loved the look of the black and red against his porcelain skin and you thought at the time, that would be as close as you would ever get to painting him in your signature color.
Neither you nor Lilith knew that after Lucifer had retired to prepare for the day, he had intentionally sequestered himself to his office upon seeing the mark, so he could unabashedly wear it the whole day. Conflicted in his excitement to have both marks on him. It had only been around dinner time that he had removed the lipstick before he joined the two of you for a meal.
Several times after that, when you had marked her -or visa versa- you caught him watching. You had tried playfully teasing him initially about wanting to watch, or join, the two of you and that had beautifully blown up in your face. He had become seemingly agitated, or perhaps flustered, and immediately left. Lilith had soothed you as best she could but, you had convinced yourself you had taken it too far knowing his disgust of sinners and newly developed tolerance for you.
The breakthrough with Lucifer had come suddenly during one of the events you had been invited to attend with them since it was being held in Pride Ring. It was a bigger event where Lilith and Lucifer would speak together in front of the citizens.
You had just assisted Lilith with a little stress relief before she went on stage. You hadn’t cleaned yourself up considering how close you two had cut it. As soon as she gotten off, you both had bolted to the stage where she immediately walked out as her name was called.
You stood there with your lipstick smeared across your face, the backdrop for a single black kiss etched across your lips, your skin glistening with her juices. Entirely too worked up, and entirely indifferent, to care if people saw you like this momentarily. In the darkened wing, most just hurried around you focused on their work as you watched her command the stage effortlessly. Your eyes hungrily locked on to the smooth sway of her hips wanting to part her legs again. Crowd be damned.
“You uh…should probably go see the makeup artists to fix your makeup. If they were able to fix up Lilith’s makeup, after seeing what you look like, they should be able to take care of yours without much issue.” you heard from beside you.
You tilted your head to see Lucifer standing next to you, his eyes focused on Lilith despite his comment being aimed at you. You smiled and put a hand over your lips as you replied, humbled enough to make it a little less obvious, “Thank you for letting me know sir. While I don’t doubt the makeup team’s ability… they didn’t have to do much touch up with Lilith’s make up.”
His brows furrowed and he turned his eyes onto you. You couldn’t stop your quiet giggling at his befuddled expression. You had always found it amusing how when you were trying to be subtle about your sexual endeavors with Lilith it would go over his head. You stepped closer to him, your arm brushing against his, before leaning down, “I made out with her other lips sir.”
His eyes popped open and lips pressed into a thin line as he whipped his attention back towards Lilith. In the dim light, you could swear you saw the rosey tone of his cheeks spread back towards his ear. You didn’t want to assume though, especially after your multitude of botched attempts to flirt or tease him, so you bit your cheek and slipped away from him to give him back his space.
Lilith’s voice echoed around the both of you as you watched her. Filling the silence that would have lingered between the two of you so you could comfortably exist together. At least, until Lucifer cleared his throat. You turned to the king as he asked, “If you were to leave a mark on me right now, where would you do it?”
Stunned, you blatantly stared. Processing. You must've heard that wrong. He couldn’t have just asked what you thought you heard.
“What?”
A brow perked, his eyes locked onto you as his face remained stone still, repeating himself. “Where would you mark me?”
You swallowed hard, closing your ajar mouth only realizing now it had fallen open. Your voice, and mind, failing you as he waited. Skin crawling to reach out to answer him with action in the absence of your other voice. You slowly reached up, succumbing to the desire to show him, before you hesitated.
“May I?” A softly croaked out question.
He looked to your hand leaning away slightly, as if unsure, before meeting your eyes, courage rejuvenated enough to bob out a nod. You released a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and your hand continued it’s path. Slowly, your middle finger skimmed along the collar of his jacket, slightly pulling downwards to see the untouched succulent flesh of his neck. Your eyes honing in on where his neck met his shoulder. The thought of marking him there appealing though, with him going out on stage it could be spotted very easily.
You prowled behind him, his bent collar revealing the back of his neck. An excellent choice as well. You could imagine licking up the back of his neck to his hairline, nipping lightly before placing your firm red impression. Yet, given your current relationship with him it didn’t seem right. You did lean in though, unable to resist, to lightly blow on the back of his neck, sending goosebumps rippling across his skin.
As you rounded his other side, your attention caught on his ear. Your hand released his collar to lightly caress it’s way up his neck with your knuckles. Gently pushing his hair back away from his ear. Your finger sliding it’s way up the lobe towards the middle ear to lightly pull it forward, exposing a small patch of skin.
Subtle. Sensual. Intimate without going too far.
You lean in, your lips inches away from his face as your eyes raked over the flesh. “Right there.” you uttered, barely audible over Lilith’s voice, the acting of stroking behind his ear emphasizing your choice while making him shiver.
It was his turn to swallow.
He started to open his mouth when his name was called by Lilith. His eyes shooting over to her and then back to you as you pulled away from him. “Good luck my king.” You grinned at him, stepping away. He cleared his throat, briskly fixing his collar and hair before joining her out on stage. His rebound seemingly effortless.
Momentarily you marveled at their ability to flawlessly recoup as Lucifer joined hands with Lilith and carried on with the show. Neither of them letting on that they had been out of sorts before walking into the limelight.
As more guests joined you off stage in the wing, you slipped away to fix your make up. The smeared red having lightly stained your skin and despite your best attempts to remove it, the staining was steadfast. Acquiescing, you mask it with a new layer of foundation and contouring before returning to your place off stage.
The crowd roared when the royals made their exit.
You awaiting them as they approached. “You two are a marvel at getting the crowd going.” you whisper, turning to walk next to Lilith placing her in the middle as the three of you made your way towards dressing rooms.
“Well we’ve been doing it long enough.” Lilith chimed, “The real challenge is always navigating and garnering the support of the goetia at the after party.”
Lucifer let out a disgusted groan and rolled his eyes. “Some of them are so…”
“Pompous?” Lilith offered, her tone pairing well with his tone despite her own schooled smile.
“WHY do we agree to the dinner party?” Lucifer grumbled.
You smiled as Lilith giggled. “To ensure they’re doing what they need to be doing, my love, and to be available for if they require our assistance or insight.” He tsked as you all approached Lilith’s dressing room and Lilith stopped. “I’ve just got to grab something from my dressing room real quick. Lu, can you run ahead and have the car readied?”
“Of course.” he said, throwing a grin over his shoulder as he sauntered off.
You stopped at the door, watching Lilith walk over and grab her clutch. She popped it open, grabbing her lipstick to freshen it up quickly in the mirror all the while her eyes were on you. You smirked, her own grin growing in response.
“You’ll never guess what Lucifer asked me before joining you on stage.”
Her application faltered briefly before she finished and turned towards you with both brows raised. She made her way back to you, at which point you offered her an arm. She happily slid her hand along your forearm purring out, “Well, don’t keep me waiting.”
“He asked if I were to mark him, where would I do it.” You placed your hand atop hers as her smile dropped into a stunned gape. “I know. I’m certain I had the same look on my face.”
She snapped her mouth shut and the two of you headed towards the exit. You peeked over at her, giving a lopsided smile seeing her contemplating the news. She huffed out, as if she had made a weighted decision and looked at you. “Are you interested in having the both of us?”
The fantasies you use to craft when being a lover or concubine was a far fetched dream flitted through your mind inducing a blush. You laughed out nervously and she leaned into your arm emitting a soft ‘hm?’ as if Lucifer being attractive hadn’t been something the two of you had talked about. You glanced at her half lidded eyes and knowing smile.
“I am.” you utter as you both turn a corner to Lucifer waiting at the end of the hallway.
She leaned close, lips brushing against your ear. “Follow my lead dear.”
You shivered, biting your lip hard. Excitement and nervousness twisting your stomach.
“Thank you for getting the car ready Luc.” Lilith called, pulling away from you to a respectable distance. He eyed the two of you as the chauffeur opened the car door. “Go ahead Luc.”
He stared a moment longer before he relented and climbed in. His obedience evoking a smirk from his wife. She withdrew her hand from your arm and steered you towards the car. “Go ahead.”
You hesitated. Lilith had always sat between you and Lucifer anytime the three of you had ridden together. It had never been you in the middle. She had implored you to follow her lead though and so you did. As you climbed in, you noticed that she had started around the back of the car towards the other side.
It wasn’t going to be you in the middle.
You bit back a smile as you settled into your window seat, the chauffeur closing the door behind you just as the other door opened to Lucifer’s surprise. “Slide over love.” she cooed, waiting until he had started to shuffle before she slid in. Pinning Lucifer between you and her.
“Oh! Well, this is different!” he laughed out nervously. His knees pinched together and hands tightly gripping his cane that he had propped between them.
It made Lilith laugh out softly as the door closed behind her. “I was feeling a window seat after being stuck in the middle for so long.”
“Is that so?” he gave a tight smile.
“It is.” she angled her body towards him. “I think we all should take turns being in the middle from now on.”
You smiled, biting your cheek. Picking up where she was going with this. So you too angled your body towards Lucifer who was too focused on Lilith to notice. “Aaaaannnnd…why would we do that?”
“Well…” Lilith’s eyes flickered to you and then back. “if we are all going to be marking one another why wouldn’t we?”
Lucifer’s eyes widened and he laughed out looking back at you, “That was just an innocent question Lili.”
“Was it?” Your question pushing Lilith’s agenda as you recalled his reactions; him holding his breath, the shivers, his hard swallow, and his questionable blushing. Further proving the point though, you reached out and lightly flicked the edge of his collar eliciting a hard swallow from him.
Lilith perked a brow at the reaction, giving Lucifer a lopsided smirk. She reached out and turned his attention back on her with a single finger to his jawline. “Lucifer…” she leaned in and brushed her nose along his cheek back to his ear. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“I have no idea-” he started.
“We both have your majesty.” A quick interjection from you. Gaining confidence as you push past his collar to run your fingers down his neck and then slide them into his hair. Your pinky running over the spot behind his ear.
His face began to flush. He tried to look back at you as Lilith held his face in place. “What’s holding you back my love?” Lilith posed, the hand holding his face sliding down his neck to his jacket to undo the fasteners. “Is it purely the fact she’s a sinner?”
Lucifer’s eyes shot back to Lilith as your hand stilled while lodged in his hair. “That’s not….I mean…”
“She’s been a good sinner to me, to us, hasn’t she?”
He sighed out. “She has.”
“Passed all of your ridiculous background checks and little investigations?”
Your brows furrowed and you shot a confused look at Lilith that begged the question ‘What now?’ She remained focused though, her free hand sliding across the back of the seat and to your hand wrapped up in his hair, beckoning it to move with a light push as he replied. “Yes…”
“You find her attractive?” Lilith pressed onward, the hand on his chest having freed all the clasps, pushing open his jacket to begin working at his vest.
You would most certainly be bringing up the background checks later but, you let it slide for the moment. Your hand beginning to rake through his hair again before combing it downwards, abandoning Lilith’s hand, to lightly pull his jacket off of his shoulder. You leaned in, lightly blowing on his neck making him yelp out, “YES!” He coughed, shutting his eyes and attempting to recover, “I uh do.”
“Then, can I mark you?” the words came out almost involuntarily, though you knew Lilith approved as her eyelids lowered. Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath. Your hand on his shoulder reached up to turn his head to you making his eyes fly open. His face fully flushed now and eyes saucers.
Lilith leaned in to kiss Lucifer’s neck making him jump slightly, his attention stolen. Nothing a quick tapping to his chin didn’t correct, begging an answer with the quirk of your brow and pout of your lips.
“I…” a quiet stutter as she shivered at the feeling of Lilith pulling his vest aside before she stopped. The three of you still awaiting Lucifer’s approval. “Y-Yes.”
“So stubborn.” Lilith crooned into his neck, beginning to tug at his tucked in shirt.
An elated shiver quaked through you as you turned Lucifer’s head towards Lilith enough for you to access his ear. Leaning in, your hands brushed backed his hair and lightly pulled his ear forward enough so you could finally plant your first mark. Firmly pressing your lips to his skin, ensuring it would leave a solid imprint before pulling back to revel in your crimson work. “I’ve waiting so long to do that.” you whispered out.
“Oh why stop there?” Lilith growled as she leaned forward to paint his stomach with her own inky strokes.
Lucifer choked and gasped out, “Hold on!” Lilith’s only response was to grab one of his hands and pin it to the back of the seat. He shot a pleading look to you, as you took his other hand, lacing your fingers with his before pressing it to the seat as well.
“Pentagram is our word if you genuinely want this to stop my king.”
Lilith looked up to the both of you, her movement dragging his gaze away from you down to her. He nodded, gulping as his head lulled back to land on the seat. “Okay.”
Lilith’s tongue snaked out of her mouth and slipped below the waistband of his pants evoking a moan. “Such a good boy.” you utter into his ear before you begin your own descent. His hand squeezing yours at the praise.
Your hand pulled his shirt up higher, undressing more of his torso. A pristine white canvas that you fully intended to marr, the thought alone making your chest tighten. Leaning in, your nose brushed against his chest gliding over his nipple. You slipped farther down and right where his sternum ended you landed a kiss before dragging your lips in a sweeping motion following the anatomy.
Lilith pulled back from her work, his stomach already covered in marks; both solid and smeared. Seeing your paint stroke she smirked before leaning in to mimic it on the other side as you leaned in to leave a solid kiss on his belly button. Moving downwards, you started littering his skin with light smudges. Fragments of impressions. The only other full lip mark you decided to leave was on the hip closest to you. A single finger slipped under his band to pull it down enough you could fully capture his hipbone with your kiss.
Lucifer had slowly brought his head forward to watch the two of you. Desperately willing himself still despite desperately wanting to writhe. His breathing had sped up though and he had groaned out a few times; such as when Lilith had matched the rib mark you left or when your finger teased his pants downward to access his hip. He couldn’t stop from grinding his hips upwards towards the end, right before you and Lilith slowly pulled yourselves away to examine your handiwork; his eyes glazed over, face flushed, labored breathing, with a plethora of lip marks strewn across his abdomen tapering off on his chest.
It made you want to hike your dress up to ride him into oblivion. Obviously the sentiment was shared with Lilith who moaned out, “God you make me so wet.” A breathy moan of agreement sounded from you as you bit your lip, knowing it was turning the same color as your lipstick from the pressure.
“Such a shame we have the dinner.”
Both Lucifer and you snapped your attention to Lilith who smugly started to fix Lucifer’s outfit. Oh. What a tease. You knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. You wouldn’t be able to focus either but, few would take an interest in your presence. You apologetically looked at Lucifer who was sitting there gaping. “M-My love! I can’t go to the dinner like…like this!” he looked down at himself, alluding to the tented pants but, Lilith feigned ignorance.
“Oh my love, these marks will be well hidden beneath your clothes. It won’t be a problem.” She soothed, his shirt messily tucked in now. She released his hand to straighten it out and then started reclasping his vest. “We just cannot skip any more events than we already have this month.”
He groaned looking to you for assistance, receiving only a shrug. The idea of subtly teasing him further at the party making your core ache. “I don’t make the schedule my king. I promise on all my markings though, I’ll make your patience now worth it later tonight.”
Lucifer narrowed his eyes at you before he freed his hand from yours quickly wrapping his arm around your waist to yank you closer. With his other hand, he pulled down your sleeve before sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder. You gasped, eyes fluttered closed as he began to roughly suck. The hand that had bared your shoulder sliding down to capture your clothed breast in a tight squeeze.
You heard Lilith hum before feeling a hand on your knee, slowly caressing it’s way upwards beneath your skirt. Her fingers ever so lightly skimming across your panties, ever so slightly applying pressure to the perfect spot, only to depart down your other leg making you whimper. “All in good time my loves.”
Lucifer pulled back with a loud pop to examine his claim on you. Smirking at it he leaned back down to lick it before trailing his tongue up your neck to your ear. “I’ll be damned if you get any sleep tonight.”
You shuttered. Your breathing quivering as you almost inaudibly whispered out, “I’m here for your use.” An approving growl sounded and the hand on your hip gave a tantalizing squeeze with his claws.
He then turned his head to Lilith, his hands quickly grappling her. Draping her across the both of you; her ass in his lap and her back on yours. “Don’t think I forgot about you my darling wife.” he seethed, hiking up her dress.
“I’d be disappointed if you did.”
She sat up, one elbow propping herself up on the seat between your legs. The other hand reached up to grab the back of your head and pull you in for a sloppy kiss; tongue slipping into your mouth. All the while Lucifer propped one of her legs up and leaned down to sink his teeth into the flesh of her inner thigh. Repeating the process he enacted on your shoulder. The sensation making Lilith moan into your mouth.
She only pulled away when Lucifer released her leg with another loud pop. The both of you panting, neither of you wearing the other’s lipstick having spent it all on Lucifer. “Such a shame…” Lilith pouted, her hand sliding around your head to brush her thumb over your lips.
You laughed out softly, “Good thing I painted your lips earlier.”
“You rake.” She playfully swatted your chin before sitting up further with your assistance. Still in Lucifer’s lap, she started fixing his jacket.
“You sure we can’t just…go home?” you ask, leaning in to kiss the back of her neck as Lucifer wrapped an arm around her waist and yours just as the car pulled to a stop.
“The show must go on.” she purred, smirking at the both of you before sliding off of Lucifer’s lap to let herself out of the car, seamlessly fixing her dress in the same motion. You and Lucifer both making your own noises of displeasure as the car door behind you opened marking the beginning of what would feel like a never ending soiree.
#hazbin hotel#lucilith#lucilith x reader#lucilith x you#lucilith x y/n#lucifer#lilith#lucifer morningstar#lilith morningstar#Lucifer#Lilith#Lucifer Morningstar#Lilith Morningstar#lucifer x you#lucifer x reader#lucifer x y/n#lilith x reader#lilith x you#lilith x y/n#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar x y/n#lilith morningstar x reader#lilith morningstar x you x y/n#lucifer x reader x lilith#lilith x reader x lucifer#lucifer x you x lilith#lucifer x y/n x lilith#lilith x you x lucifer#lilith x y/n x lucifer
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hiii! i was wondering if you could do a fic based on this yt video with charles?
https://youtube.com/shorts/33NhUYNKqu8?si=90BAJ_FLoZFkq9pa
I just think it's so cute and he would be so pouty about it. like when the guy in the video was like, "he needs to wear glasses , what a nerd!" i was thinking about reader going, well you wear glasses too amour. i just think it would be so fluffy and cute lol.
Ooh yes! But I decided that Y/N also wears glasses because I wear glasses, and I think it would be hilarious.
Nerdy Glasses?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina Reader
Summary: Y/N decides to show Charles her favorite holiday movie and his reaction is hilarious to say the least.
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: i have never seen The Holiday but I have seen this YouTube short many times
Y/N turned on the TV and got comfortable on the couch.
“Mon coeur, it’s not even Christmas yet, do we have to watch this movie?” Charles asked.
“I didn’t see you complaining when I made you watch Exmas last night.” Y/N said, getting her Calvin Klein glasses to watch the movie clearly, sitting back down.
“Fine, put it on, amour.” Charles said, sitting beside her.
“Thank you, I will.” Y/N got the remote and set up the movie. She snuggled into Charles and it was all going well until he saw that Y/N was practically swooning over Jude Law.
“Is he really that good looking that this is your favorite Christmas movie?” Charles asked,
“I mean technically my favorite Christmas movie is The Santa Clause, but it’s cute.” Y/N said.
“Why? Is it because he’s British? I speak French, mon coeur, the most romantic language in the world.” Charles said.
“Ay ya párale, muñeco, im trying to watch the movie.” Y/N said, a few minutes go by.
“He’s not that good looking, I bet there’s something wrong with him.” Charles commented and Y/N stared at him.
“Like what, please tell me.” Y/N said,
“I bet the cameras make him look taller.” Charles said.
“Please, he’s literally your height, don’t even lie, you’re 5’11 on a GOOD day.” Y/N said.
“I’m 1.80m Y/N, you live in Monaco, learn our metric system.” Charles said.
“Oh shut it, you have no idea how big the states truly are, now shush.” Y/N said, turning back to the TV. They get to the scene where Jude Law says he lost his contact lenses.
“You see! He needs to wear glasses, what a nerd.” Charles said. Y/N turns to stare at him.
“Muñeco, you wear glasses when you’re on the sim. You own those thick black framed glasses too and you sometimes wear them out.” Y/N said.
“But this glasses are by choice, his are prescription.” Charles said.
“Oh so are my prescription glasses nerdy to you, Charles? Am i nerd because i wear glasses?” Y/N argues and Charles stammers.
“Of course not, mon coeur, I actually think you look really sexy in those glasses.” Charles attempts to save himself.
“Mm hmm.” Y/N said, not believing him.
“I swear, it’s kind of a turn on when you wear your glasses, especially with your hair up” Charles commented.
“You are such a guy, let’s just keep watching the movie, yeah?” Y/N said, Turing back to the screen,
“Yeah.” Charles said. Y/N then whispers in his ear.
“It’s a turn on when you wear your glasses too.” And Y/N pulled away to continue watching the movie. However, when the movie ended, Charles had a new appreciation for wearing glasses.
The End
Hope y’all liked it, I think it turned out cute, I’ve also been thinking I should make more headers like this for my other fanfics
#hispanic reader#hispanic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#latina#charles leclerc#f1 fanfic
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The Shadowsinger: Twenty-One
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Canon-level violence (blood, gore, fighting, killing, death), mentions of SA, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: You continue to compete in the Blood Rite.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
“What are you doing here?” You asked him. “You should’ve completed the Rite years ago…”
“I just qualified for it this winter… (Y/N), we all thought you were dead.” He said and stepped closer to you, making you take a step back. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just saved your life.” He said.
“I was doing just fine by myself.” You replied, grabbing your spear from the ground. “I don’t need help.”
“I’m not here to help you. I just think it might be easier to have an ally out here than not.” He said.
“And you don’t have a little band of brothers here?” You asked.
“All my friends have completed the Rite already.” He said and let out a breath. “We should keep moving.” He said.
You looked at him and held back a scowl as you started to walk. “Took you a while to qualify for this, hmm?” You asked and looked at him.
“I have a mate,” he said. “And I’ve been focused on caring for her since her father clipped her wings when she was young.”
You glanced at him. If he thought he was going to get any sympathy from you... “I don’t speak to our father anymore, either.” He said. “When our brothers didn’t find you, he got more brutal… and I decided I had enough.”
“Good for you,” you ground out. “I’m glad you had the choice of leaving and being able to live a normal life.” You said.
“How did you end up here?” He asked.
“I’m not telling you anything about myself.” You said. “And if you don’t be quiet you’re going to draw attention to us and get us both killed.” You said and continued walking.
“I just want to make Oristian.” He said, keeping pace with you. He was 10 when you left Valorworth. Had he always been this annoying?
“I just want to survive.” You muttered and looked forward, taking a deep breath. “Just stay quiet and stay out of my way. You hunt your own food and water.” You said. “And if I catch even a whiff that you’re going to turn on me, you won’t make it to the mountain.” You said.
“You’re taking the north way? It’s harder.” He said.
You closed your eyes. “I know.” You said through gritted teeth.
“If we-“
“There is no we,” you said and spun on him. That rage that was buried deep down was bubbling to the surface now. “It’s just you. And me. We are not friends. We are not family. If you insist on sticking by me, keep your mouth shut and don’t get me killed.” You said.
He faltered his steps, frowning at your words. “Okay.” He said.
You turned back around and continued to walk, saying those three words again in your mind to calm yourself back down.
Survive. Mountain. Mate.
Being pissed wouldn’t get you anywhere but buried in the ground.
Day 4-5
The fourth day went by quickly. You and Varyn ran into two separate groups that you took out easily. Varyn seemed to know one of them, but didn’t seem too upset when you killed them. You ripped your cloak more and found some flowers to clean your arm wound with water. It was wrapped as tight as possible to keep the elements out. It had stopped bleeding once water hit it.
Varyn still wouldn’t shut up. When you were alone he would tell you about the war camp, about his mate, Wessian, and about your elder brothers. As if you wanted to know anything about his life. The life that you fled from because of your father. You didn’t blame Varyn for it, he was 10 and could barely fly properly. But that didn’t change the fact that your father raised him. Even if Varyn left the second he could.
You were half a day's walk from Ramiel when you got into bigger trouble.
That group of 5 males was back again. You knew you would regret leaving them alive. They surrounded you again. This time, you had even less sleep, less food, and less strength than you did before. But you had Varyn. From the previous day and a half, you knew he could fight.
It didn’t go very well for you. But it went worse for them. The main brunette had left a nasty gash in your right calf. Your lip was busted open and your left eye almost swollen shut from where one of his friends hit your head with a bludgeon. And you were pretty sure another one of them twisted your left wrist even worse than it was before. Varyn was in slightly better shape, his legs were fine but you could tell his ribs were definitely not okay.
You found a stream, filled your canteen and cleaned your wounds. You just hoped that the water was clean enough not to cause infection.
This time you were glad that you killed them.
Day 6
You made it to Ramiel. Your leg was killing you, but you made it to the mountain. Your second priority was finished. You would be titled Oristian with Varyn. But once he saw it, he wanted to keep going. You knew you couldn’t make the climb, but being alone with your leg’s condition worsening wouldn’t be a good choice either. So you chose to follow him.
You told him about your new family. About Cassian, Mor, Amren, Feyre, Rhys… and Azriel. You left out the part of him being your mate. If you focused on it too long, you could swear you could feel the tug. Buried deep deep down from the spells that suppress magic. You knew he could feel it too, if it even snapped for him when it did for you.
You told him that you were a Shadowsinger and a spy for Amarantha, and Rhys took you to his home after you found Sirona, Igna, and Oran dead. You told him how you found a place in the Night Court. And it was your home.
You just had to last one more day, two more nights, and you could go back to your home. To your mate.
You found a cave on the mountain, probably half way up, trusting Varyn enough at this stage to actually sleep. It was a mistake.
Day 7
It was the last day. If you survived till dawn, you would be back home. With Azriel. But when you awoke in the morning, there was something sharp poking the side of your neck.
“We can’t let a female win, can we?” You heard someone say. It was familiar, but you couldn’t place the voice. You opened your eyes, going to struggle but you found yourself restrained. A terrible feeling washed over you as you saw your brother laying on the ground, gasping as he held his stomach. He was bleeding out. A lot. He wouldn’t make it till dawn. He wouldn’t even make it till noon. Not unless you could bind it. And you were pretty sure your leg was infected by the way it felt when the Illyrian restraining you pulled you to your feet. Your head spun, and you figured you had a fever as well from the flush you felt on your cheeks and the chill that ran through your body despite the lack of wind.
“Maybe we’ll clip your wings. Tear them right off of you. And then fuck you until your dead. Or close to it.” You recognized the male. It was Nearsen. He was the one who you fought the day before the qualifying course. “And then, we’ll show your wings to that pretty boy and the Lord Commander. See how they force females upon us then.” He said.
You couldn’t even struggle against the grip of the male holding you. Did they drug you with something? Your head felt a lot heavier than it should for a fever. “You won’t touch me.” You managed to get out, wincing when Nearsen grabbed your top and pulled it towards him, causing it to rip in the process. Luckily, you still had your second layer beneath so he couldn’t see anything. That was when he took a rock and tore threw the rest of your top, exposing the top half of your body.
“Might want to mind your tongue, princess. It won’t make it easier for you if you fight.” He said.
You glanced over to your brother as he slowly bled to death. The only thing in his eyes was horror. Something new snapped inside of you. You couldn’t let another one of your family members die. Not if you were alive and conscious. Even if you denounced the Vash name long ago. You wouldn’t let him die. Not like this. And you sure as hell wouldn't let another male harm you without fighting.
You took a deep breath, groaning when Nearsen pushed in on the festering wound on your leg. You took your chance while his head was down, kneeing him in the groin. You quickly moved your neck before they could jab the small wooden stake in it. You hit a pressure point below their arm, seeing the stake drop. You caught it, immediately bringing it up to stab the male behind you in the neck. You recognized him too. But you didn’t dare think too much about it as you stood up straight, ignoring the pain in your leg. You held the small wooden stake, now dripping with blood.
Nearsen and two other males closed in on you. Both were injured, and one could barely walk straight from the broken leg he had. You went for him next, dodging Nearsen and knocking the injured one out. You did the same to the other male, easily finding that pressure point. Whatever weakness that you woke up to was gone. Anger and determination pulsed through your veins.
Nearsen sneered, going to lunge at you but you simply hit his pressure point, watching as he fell down. You should kill them while they were down. You learned the cost once before. But you were concerned about your brother. You threw your cloak off, running over to him.
“How bad is it?” You asked as you poured the little water you had left on the wound before tying off his injury as tight as you could.
“I’m not bleeding from my mouth yet.” He coughed and you shook your head.
He told you what happened as you helped him up, both of you limping out of the cave into the late morning. How they jumped him and stabbed him before he even saw what was coming. They covered his mouth so he couldn’t warn you too.
You glanced back, cursing yourself for not killing the three males laying in the cave. But you were closer to the top than you thought, still about halfway up the mountain. You were on the easier route of the mountain as well, not the hardest part. You could make it by dawn if you didn’t stop. And if you were correct, the monolith on top of Ramiel would heal your wounds.
So you helped Varyn up, closer and closer to the peak. You had to let go of him, climbing the rocks instead of walking at certain points. Night had fallen, and you could barely see. But as soon as dawn hit, you would be free. You could see the moon setting, getting closer to the peak as it did.
You were doing well until you heard the three males chasing you. You slipped, your hand scraping against the rock. “Go faster.” You yelled to Varyn, who was ahead of you. You bit down on your tongue as you climbed, each wound you had yelled at you to stop. But you had to get up there. You made it to a pass where you didn’t have to climb. Varyn helped you up the best he could and then you both sprinting up the mountain. The moon was almost set. Dawn was nearing. The sun just about to peak over the horizon. You could see the top of Ramiel. You let Varyn climb before you, starting after him.
He waited for you at the top. He wouldn’t touch it without you. You gritted your teeth, pulling yourself up. Your leg was basically dead weight. If you made it back alive, you weren’t sure your leg would survive.
You almost made it to the top. Almost touched that stone as you felt a spear lodge in the top of your left wing. So close to the tendon you could’ve sworn it tore right through it. You let go of the rock you were holding on to, feeling your body give way to your injuries. Your wings fought against the bindings as they tried to free themselves. Tried to keep you from falling. But you were. Tumbling down the mountain. More and more wounds littering your body. Until you landed on the pass where you sprinted. Your arm broke. Every breath hurt. You faintly heard Varyn yell. Your wings twitched at the broken bones, the wooden spear that was lodged in it had pierced all the way through. You were sure the tendon snapped. And just as you saw the sun peek out from the ground, you succumbed to the darkness.
A/N: My note from what I was writing this reads: "heheehehhe cliff hangeerrr (almost literally)…." Stay tuned for Monday!
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#acotar#azriel x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar spoilers#the shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#katie writes
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I just rewatched Full Moon and seeing that last scene Blitzø and Stolas ripped my heart out AGAIN and these are my thoughts after watching it a couple times, please don't throw rocks at me
First, I think this is a pretty realistic progression of miscommunication and I've seen a lot of people be on either of their sides, but I don't think there's even a side to be on. Both of them went into this with their own thoughts and pre-formed ideas of what the other wants and how they'd react, and that colored their responses and clouded their ability to process what the other was saying.
Stolas opened the whole thing with "Blitzø, I need my book back permanently" which was absolutely the wrong tone to set here. It reinforced Blitzø's belief that Stolas was getting tired of him, and as far as Blitzø (who is NOT known for his ability to accurately and objectively read people or situations) is concerned, Stolas has just confirmed that he doesn't want him. Stolas immediately clarifies and pours out his feelings, but honestly, that's a lot for Blitzø to hear immediately after feeling like his literal worst fear has been confirmed, that his business—the ONE thing he's worked so fucking hard to build from scratch—is in jeopardy. So along with wondering whether Stolas even wants him anymore, he's now contending with the panic of losing two things, so he likely barely heard and couldn't comprehend Stolas's feelings.
In ordinary circumstances, less high stakes ones for Blitzø, I think Stolas actually did a pretty decent job of communicating himself and his feelings. But I get why Blitzø didn't take it seriously—he's been in an arrangement with Stolas for so long, thinks Stolas is getting bored, so of course he'd think, "Ah, yes, a new role play, a chance for me to do better and keep him from getting bored." Stolas is understandably upset by this, but man, he really did not give Blitzø a fucking second to process at all.
And this is why I think Blitzø's reaction is understandable (not necessarily reasonable or healthy or even appropriate, but I GET IT). Of course he feels like he's being thrown away. Stolas still has power because he's rich and he's royalty and Blitzø is used to being used and discarded and not good enough. Of course he's angry—he doesn't even feel like he's being given a choice because Stolas has already scripted this in his mind, went in prepared, and imagined how it will go. He mistakes Blitzø's misunderstanding and shock for rejection—also understandably because that's what Stolas is used to, and he doesn't seem to have any friends or support, which we've seen is a pattern since childhood.
What we're seeing is two lifetimes of trauma surfacing in the face of genuine connection and love, and neither Blitzø nor Stolas knows how to deal with that. Neither of them has ever seen what it's like to receive that before. Blitzø was in the circus with a dad who sold him to a prince for "a wadded up $5 and a slim fit condom" and was always placed in the shadow of his best friend, who then hated him for 15 years because he thought Blitzø purposely blew him up. Stolas was essentially raised by a butler with a dad who had zero emotional literacy and was then forced into an arranged marriage with someone who treated him like absolute shit.
They've both lived a life where love and relationships are transactional, and they don't know how to function when someone loves them for who they are. Of course they're going to struggle to communicate, and I don't blame either of them for their reactions, but I really, really want to see them have a calmer conversation where they can process this and understand each other and accept love.
#i put most of it under a read more because it got so fucking long#I JUST HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AFTER ALL THAT#fighting the urge to delete all of this but damn it i didn't type all that just to throw it in the trash#tl;dr: they both have issues and i hope they can work them out#their issues aren't their fault but mannn are they standing in the way of them being together#if you read this whole thing thank you and i love you#someone's probably said all this already but i'm gonna say it again!!#helluva boss#helluva boss spoilers#full moon spoilers#helluva boss full moon#helluva boss blitzo#helluva boss stolas
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What's the best depiction of/metaphor for addiction you've seen in fiction?
I don't know if I'd call it the best; I have a hard time remembering all of the media I've consumed when given general questions like that. But the one that stands out most in my mind, at least, is Willow Rosenberg's four-season decline into overdependence and eventual substance abuse of magic in Buffy: The Vampire Slayer.
A point I really like about the way BTVS handles addiction is that it doesn't blame the substance. The message isn't, "Magic is bad for you; It makes you an addict." The problem is never magic, and we see other characters both using magic responsibly and confronting Willow for the way she uses it throughout the series.
The problem, the message that BTVS conveys through Willow's addiction plotline, is addiction. The problem with addiction is addiction. You can be addicted to all kinds of things, not just controlled substances like drugs and alcohol. Caffeine can be addictive. Sugar. Video games. Fast food. Gambling. Sex. The internet. Money. Whatever gives your brain that dopamine hit that makes life worth living, that can form an addiction.
The problem in BTVS isn't magic. It's Willow's dependency on it. The way she makes it her personality, replacing who she was before. The way she leans on it as a crutch whenever things are physically or emotionally difficult. The way it substitutes for her lack of self-esteem, validating her with an artificial confidence boost by making her feel powerful and uniquely capable.
It starts in season two, with Willow casting her very first spell in the season finale to restore Angel's soul. Giles warns her then and there that casting this spell will "open a door that you may never be able to close". She doesn't really know what that means and neither do we.
But from season three onwards as Willow begins to learn about magic, we see her constantly turning to magic whenever things get hard - against advisement from the rest of the cast. People think the addiction storyline began somewhere in season six, but it actually began in episode 03x08 "Lovers Walk".
Willow and Xander, at this point, had begun cheating on their boy/girlfriends Oz and Cordelia with each other. Willow feels intensely guilty for it. At this point, they have three options in front of them:
1 - Break up with Oz and Cordelia, and get together.
2 - Do a better job of controlling their attaction to one another and remain faithful to their partners.
3 - See if Oz and Cordelia would be up for a polycule.
Willow decides to take a fourth option: She decides unilaterally that she should cast an anti-love spell on herself and Xander to magically erase their feelings for one another. She doesn't even consult him on it; In fact, she actively lies to him to keep him from realizing what she's doing.
She's put in a difficult but relatable situation; This is her first time having to make a choice between two people she's interested in. It's a situation where she needs to figure out what she wants for herself. And her response is "I can lobotomize us with magic".
It's gonna be a bumpy ride from here. This is Willow's chief character flaw. When things are hard either physically or emotionally, she leans on magic - Whether it's appropriate or not. Something that both Giles and Tara criticize her for as the seasons progress, to which her response is to sneak around behind their backs and do spells without their knowing - Such as trying to curse Oz after their breakup or giving Dawn guidance to perform an ill-advised resurrection spell on her mom.
Again, the problem is never that she does magic. Magic is shown to be tremendously useful in making the impossible possible. The problem is that she keeps leaping to extreme gestures of magic to do what was already possible. That she uses it as an emotional crutch, as a surrogate for her own self-esteem.
Magic makes her feel powerful. It makes her feel valid. That's something she didn't have before she had magic, and something she doesn't have when she isn't using magic. So she overindulges and rides the high of being able to crinkle her nose and make party favors go up, or stab a god with knives, or make anyone she loses come back to life because she is Willow Almighty and magic has made her omnipotent.
She likes being Willow Almighty. It's an awful lot better than Willow the Put-Upon Nerd. So she lets an otherwise benign activity become her entire personality, and she is made worse because of it.
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hi abbiee!!
for the hurt comfort prompt thingy : 'tell me where it hurts" for clegan pleassee <3
omg finally getting around to this!! thank u so much for the prompt, and i hope you like!!
“Why didn't you tell me?"
"What?"
"You've been up. Two missions. You didn’t tell me it was like that.”
Bucky knew Buck was sore with him, actually, genuinely for real this time.
Marching through interrogation with him, the chatter of the beaten-up, pale-faced men around them drowned out any notion of being able to continue their at first stilted, turned suddenly distinct lack of, discussion from the tense drive back across base. Buck didn’t so much as turn back to look at him even once on his way to his own crew's assigned table, eyes set ahead of him and weaving around things as if on autopilot.
He hid it well, was able to pull off the 'stoic, rock-solid lean-to' routine better than anybody, but Bucky could see he was shaken; caught the tremble in his fingers where they clutched the cup of coffee, miniscule but there.
After the sit-down debrief, as CO, Buck would then need to see to the injured men, get a run-down from Smokey on how long they'd be out of the fight, even after making it home. Great excuse to not talk to him some more.
Bucky turned on his heel towards the exit, gritting his teeth and biting back the urge to take it personally. Sometimes Buck just needed a minute to himself to work through stuff like this, Bucky rationalised. To process. He’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.
Before slinking back off to attend to yet more goddamn Air Executive duties (ones that didn’t involve getting into the actual air and doing something), he did manage to corner Curt, though, struck with an idea.
“Hey, what d'ya think about drinks tonight? You, me, Buck, some of the others, maybe?”
Curt, a little wide-eyed and clearly wired still from the mission - Jesus, it'd been his first mission too - smiled, nodding. “Yeah, sounds good. You ask ‘em yet?”
Bucky scoffed, playfully shoving the empty mug he hadn't managed to discharge yet into the other man’s hands. The bitter taste of whisky-infused coffee sat heavily on the back of his tongue. “You think I’ve got time for that?” he said, disdain clear his tone. “Buck’s in there with the rest of your guys, but I’ve gotta run… you ask him?”
For the rest of the day, through the endless meetings, and briefings, and making sure the guys' goddamn beds were made properly, as the hours ticked by Bucky fought against a knawing worry, Buck's rigid voice from the jeep ride ringing in his ears despite its characteristic stillness.
Maybe he'd had a point.
How could Bucky have let his best friend go up there, without him, and without the full knowledge of what awaited them? As part of their training, they'd of course been told what the dangers were, informed of how crucial but also how perilous the roles they'd play were.
Nothing can compare to what it's actually like, though, experiencing that first-hand. Facing down a minefield of flak and Luftwaffe gunfire and having no choice but to keep on going.
Being behind the yoke and feeling your plane sustain hit after hit, its outer shell shredding apart, and having no option but to keep on going.
Realising one of those hits took one of your engines and feeling your plane lurch menacingly to the left, or the right, under your hand, and there's nothing you really do about it other than manage it as best you can in the moment and keep on going.
Watching helplessly on as ships full of men they'd played cards with the night before or had breakfast with that morning were shot out of the sky, no parachutes emerging from the fiery wreckage, and suddenly feeling the weight of each of your own crew's lives in your hands that much more viscerally. The pressure to make sure that same fate didn't await them.
Feeling your heart leap into your mouth when one of them screamed over the radio that they'd been hit.
And just having to keep on going.
He'd let Buck face that blind and alone.
But at the end of the day, what choice had he? No words could prepare you for that. Any Bucky potentially could have found would've fallen inadequately short, he knew that without a doubt. The last thing Buck, or any man, for that matter, needed was to go up there for that first time more fearful than they needed to be, aware of the full reality of the horrors that faced them. They'd have plenty of time for that; 24 more of the mythical contracted 25.
It helped in some way, to just get up there, rip the band aid off, and dispel that unknown and survive it once just to know that you could. That went further in managing the fear going forward than anything else.
There was no way to go into that other than dry, maybe a little blind, not really.
That evening, he at least did both he and Curt the service of waiting until after they'd downed some of their dinner to press him about the plans for later, Buck's absence from the mess hall a blatant chasm.
"Nah, he said he was stayin' in," Curt reported back around half a mouthful of lumpy, powdered mash potatoes so gluey you'd need a boatful of gravy just to get through them. "...was complaining about his neck, maybe his head, bothering him, I think? One of those. Said he just wanted to go lay down."
Bucky's eyebrows furrowed immediately. If it were even possible, the potatoes solidified a fraction further, getting stuck in his throat on the way down. It could well have just been an excuse to beg off, but until he knew that...
He'd resigned himself to giving Buck space to deal with everything from today however he needed to, and actually hadn't been doing half a bad job at it either. He could've - probably should've - just snuck back into the barracks to freshen up, in and out, leave him be and not say a word, then swiftly head back out to meet the other guys. Since he'd apparently now arranged that, despite the initial motivation for doing so being moot now.
Would've, could've, should've...
He ended up cutting away from dinner early, what remained of his appetite quickly waning. Those nasty potatoes.
He went straight from the mess hall to the barracks, slipping into the still-mostly deserted quarters with a peace offering in-hand. Granted, Buck would probably have preferred it be coffee, but if this was one of those awful migraines he gets sometimes, the last thing he damn well needed was caffeine. Steaming hot, milky tea - just how the Brits seemed to like it - would have to suffice.
Bucky took a deep breath and crossed the room with an affected ease, setting the mug down on the bedside table as he dropped down into the rack beside Buck's own. The man in question lay outstretched, lounging though his posture seemed rigid, holding a book in one hand that he'd lowered as soon as he clocked Bucky's presence.
They held each other's gaze for a silent, expectant moment. Buck looked tired and endearingly sleep-rumpled in the muted lamplight. Always a sucker, Bucky blinked first.
"For you," he said, nodding towards the mug as steam curled up from the rim. "So have at it."
Buck nodded jerkily, seemingly before even thinking about it, as he winced a little at the movement. After a brief pause, he set the book face down and stiffly pulled himself up further into a sitting position, reaching for the mug.
Bucky wasn't quite sure whether he was relieved or unnerved that he clearly hadn't just been making up a convenient excuse for Curt and the guys, that there was actually something wrong.
To Buck's credit, he didn't even so much as wrinkle his nose at the the tea.
"Thank you," Buck murmured, taking a grateful sip.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, unable to help himself, annoyance rising that he didn't just know because of this stupid day-long disagreement. He'd seemed fine at interrogation, where Bucky had left him. "Curt mentioned something about your head?"
Buck tried to shrug it off, though the sudden movement made his face twinge in pain. "Not even. I just..." he started, bowing his head for a second, sounding embarrassed about it. "We got knocked about a bit in turbulence on the way back. Moved my neck the wrong way at the wrong time, must've pulled something. Didn't even realise 'til the adrenaline started wearing off."
A small, dulled kind of smile twitched at Bucky's lips. "You mean to tell me you made it through miles of Kraut artillery fire unscathed, only to then pull a muscle in turbulence?"
Buck sighed, rolling his eyes, though even he couldn't help but have a little chuckle at himself with him. Bucky could feel the ice between them melting away in real time, and suddenly his breath came easier to him than it had all day. Buck's momentary smile was a reflection of Bucky's own, though he quickly hid it behind the rim of the mug as he took another sip. "I don't want to talk about it..."
Even so, bolstered now, Bucky took advantage of the opening and shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the other man's bed.
"Tell me where it hurts, I'll see if I can help."
It must actually hurt a decent amount, with how quickly he gave in, not even bothering with the customarily playful scepticism or the banter Bucky could practically already script in his head. 'All those extra courses you had to take after getting Air Exec - who knew that included massage therapy?'
He leaned forward wordlessly and indicated to Bucky where the pain was focalised, and Bucky got to work. Gentle but firm, his fingers kneaded the muscle beneath, the other man's skin soft and warm under his fingertips. When Buck let out a soft little hiss, Bucky drove his thumb harder into the spot that'd driven it out of him, working, working, working on the tension.
There was an elephant in the room, though. One that only grew bigger, weighed heavier in the atmosphere between them, as seconds ticked by into minutes that it remained unaddressed. In that moment, Bucky prepared himself to speak up on it, when-
"John?" Buck beat him to the punch.
"Hm?" Bucky replied, embarrassingly quick.
"Look, I... I'm sorry about earlier. How I spoke to you. I've had time to think on it since, and I see where you're coming from..."
Bucky doesn't say anything, lets him take the pause before continuing. Buck could be so careful with his words, usually erring on the side of caution and saying little, when he did open up Bucky couldn't help but want to wring them out like a soaking wet rag. So he did, by listening. Making himself still.
It was part of what made Buck a great leader, one the boys genuinely respected the hell out of, as well as the ability to admit when he was wrong about something.
"I tried to imagine what I'd say to someone else who hadn't been up now that I have, and I just... I get it."
Bucky nodded his acceptance. "Still, I should've been up there with you."
Buck smiled, though it was solemn in its affection. "I'm glad you weren't."
He pulled away from Bucky's ministrations then, in Bucky's mind moving a little easier than he had been before, holding his neck steady with one hand as he reached into his bedside cabinet. Pulling out the lucky deuce, still with only the two corners bit off, he tried to offer it back but Bucky wouldn't take it.
"You hold onto it," he smirked, "Until I'm up there myself again to watch your six."
#clegan#buck x bucky#john bucky egan#gale buck cleven#masters of the air#bucky giving huge 'my girl's mad at me i hope i die' energy x#my writing
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Commission/Life update for 2024
Just want everyone to know I AM okay now and life has gotten better recently. However the past year and a half have been extremely difficult and I'm only now getting back on my feet. I generally don't like sharing life details publicly, but as a freelancer with clients that have been waiting for a while I feel like transparency is key.
If you don't want an explanation for the delays and just want to know my completion timeline, that's totally okay. Here is all the info up front. I'm going to continue updating my commission queue as usual and will not be accepting any more orders until ALL of the queue is completed. I'm working on finishing the half and full bodies first since they've been the longest waiting in queue. Then the rest. I don't have a set date in mind for when they'll be all done for good but the goal is by the end of the year. I think that's more than doable for me now.
If you're a client of mine and have questions/concerns, please message me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to help you. My username on discord is the same as my Tumblr username. Twitter and Ko-Fi are also options but I don't check them as frequently. I usually work Monday-Thursday so that will be the best time to shoot me a message or expect an update to the queue.
Information on what's been going on is below.
CW for mentions of death, financial hardship and homophobia.
As a few of you might remember, in 2019 I was disowned by my mother for being a lesbian. I made the choice to go no-contact. Since then, up until LAST YEAR, she's routinely harassed me or had other family harass me, stalked me on social media, tried to get to me through the website I take commission orders, and threatened me multiple times. I was forced to move across the country both because I felt unsafe and because my partner had family elsewhere that were more accepting. I've had to change my phone number twice.
It's been extremely difficult both financially and mentally to keep my head above water. In 2021 my grandfather died and I still haven't felt like I've been able to properly grieve. I wasn't able to see him due to her and I wasn't invited to his funeral. We were very close and he meant the world to me. In 2023 my grandmother passed away very suddenly as well, and my mother used it as an excuse to harass me over ko-fi/my professional email. It was such a horrific experience that I fell into a months long spiral that I only just now feel like I'm climbing out of. This is when commissions first stalled. I was also starting to get overwhelmed, as I had to take on more work than I could realistically handle in order to pay bills and rent. That's really it - I just had to take more orders so we weren't kicked out of our apartment, and as my mental state deteriorated I couldn't keep up.
The good news is that my wife and moved earlier this year we're living with supportive(!) family now and our financial burden is much lighter. This gives me time to work on my backlog without re-opening. I'm also going to school again, back in college starting this summer for a second degree. For my own health after commissions are finished I'm likely going to take a break on opening them for a good while, even though I really enjoy doing them.
In the past two months amazing and not-amazing things have happened. The amazing thing is I got an ADHD diagnosis, something I didn't even know had been ruining my life for years. I'm still getting used to the proper medications but I'm already seeing a big improvement. It's as much of a relief as it is frustrating. My mother also reared her head again (like she usually does at least once a year) - this time, though, I learned she'd had a stroke. While I'm not involved with her anymore, I think most people could understand how it would still be a very weird and upsetting situation. As of right now I'm free of her once again, she seems to be making a good recovery and will hopefully continue to live a happy life far away from me. Still, those two things back to back have been a LOT to deal with on top of just trying to get better in general. I stepped away from the internet for a while for my own sanity.
The downside to being a freelancer is that there's not always a safety net. That's what happened to me. Thank you all very much for being kind and patient, I genuinely have had nothing but polite interactions with all of you and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry my personal bullshit got in the way of getting my work done for you. This is the longest I've ever taken to complete commissions and it's something that I'm deeply ashamed of. I promise they will get done. Being medicated and starting to recover from the family drama has revitalized me a bit. If you have any questions or concerns please reach out.
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Home Is With You
Also on Ao3
Day 3 of the Dead Boy Detectives Pride Month Prompts- "I miss home"
Three days after returning from Port Townsend, a new case sent the trio out of the country again. The boys barely had a chance to start accommodating the office, and Crystal hadn’t even figured out where she would want to stay in London yet. Someone from Crystal’s past, currently residing in Ireland, needed their assistance. Apparently, old Crystal threw around information on her powers as freely as her parents’ money.
A painful hour and a half flight later, the agency had landed in Dublin. Crystal was attempting to calm the boys down the whole time, telling them it would be a quick and easy case. Edwin was making it well known that he still objected to traveling the long way even though the other two clearly saw how fascinated he was with air travel every time. Oddly, Charles was pacing both the airport and the plane like a caged animal the whole time. He brushed off both Crystal and Edwin’s advances in conversation, constantly keeping his head on a swivel.
Crystal’s friend, Emily, picked them up from the airport while debriefing them on the current status of the case. Emily recently moved into a new apartment, and it appeared to be haunted. Objects of hers disappearing, banging in the night, things moving through the air on their own, etcetera. Crystal shot the boys a few looks, attempting to tell them, “See? Easy.” Edwin still appeared annoyed, and Charles agitated.
The drive was short, and they were swiftly at Emily’s door. As she was about to turn the handle, she turned back to Crystal, saying, “Be careful walking around in there.” Her eyes drifted passed Crystal’s shoulder to look at the boys. “All of you.”
Charles instinctively reached an arm in front of Edwin while reaching one toward the back of Crystal’s jacket. “Crystal, wait–”
Emily opened the door, and a black cat scrambled out through everyone’s legs. The agency members all jumped back while Emily sighed, “Tinks, what did we discuss about scaring new people?”
The cat squinted at their owner and meowed indignantly.
“They’re here to stop whoever or whatever is messing with us, so play nice,” Emily replied.
Tinks glanced over the newcomers, their gaze lingering momentarily on Edwin. Charles stepped slightly in front of the other ghost. Seemly satiated, Tinks trotted back into the apartment.
“Sorry about her,” Emily said, now moving in as well, “She’s very territorial, especially with everything strange going on.”
The detectives lingered outside the door, staring in. They could see a sitting room on the left with a connected kitchen and a short hallway on the right leading likely to Emily’s bedroom or whatever other rooms she had. In the bit of the kitchen they could see, there were herbs hanging to dry with a bookshelf separating it from the living room. A couple of the books had copies on the agency’s shelves.
Charles gently grabbed Crystal’s arm and led her a couple more steps away from the door. “You didn’t tell us your friend knew about the supernatural.”
Crystal looked just as stunned and confused. “I didn’t know! She wasn’t this invested in it the last time I saw her.” She glanced around the still-empty complex hallway and stepped closer to whisper, “The last time I saw her was three years ago when I made out with her girlfriend after she told me she thought I was hot. I wasn’t exactly keeping tabs on her lifestyle choices after that.”
“Did you really lead us to a different country yet again to help someone who, this time, actively dislikes you, last you knew?” Edwin butted in, having overheard.
“I’m trying to be a better person,” Crystal defended. “In case you forgot, and part of that is trying to help people I hurt and fix our broken relationships.”
“Alright,” Charles broke the two up harshly. “Let’s just get the information we need and get out of here. I don’t like the feel of this place.”
“Are you three going to come in or just keep whispering about me at my door?” Emily asked.
Edwin and Crystal both huffed. “Let us begin our investigation,” Edwin declared before finally entering the house.
…
Three hours later, they were getting nowhere. None of the strange phenomena occurred, and physically searching the place came up empty. It was getting dark, so Crystal politely declined Emily’s spare bedroom in favor of going to the hotel she’d booked.
Crystal threw down her small bag and flopped onto the bed. “Don’t wake me until 9 or there’s a fire,” she mumbled into a pillow, knowing the boys would get the gist.
Edwin sat down on the couch, flipping through his notes to see if he might have missed any possible leads. Emily clearly can see ghosts and communicate with supernatural creatures, so why can’t she see what’s in her apartment? Unless they were using some form of cloaking, but he’d need something more specific. “Charles, do you have…” Edwin trailed off as he looked up at his partner. Charles was pacing again. His brow was furrowed as his hands were opening and clenching at his sides. “Are you alright, Charles?” Edwin asked instead.
Charles stopped and plastered on a smile. He opened his mouth before letting his face fall and rethinking his words. “I just…” He fidgeted with his jacket’s zipper. “It’s been a lot lately, yeah?” He began slowly pacing once more. “I mean, Post Townsend was a whole thing itself, then we barely get a moment’s peace at the office before being shuffled off to another country again. Plus, we got Charlie and Crystal, and we’ve still got no idea what Jenny’s doing. We went to Hell, got tortured, and lost Niko and…” He stopped pacing, grunting in frustration.
Edwin stood, trying to figure out how to help when Charles continued, “Don’t get me wrong, Crystal and everyone, they’re aces, but I just miss us, you know? It was so much easier.” Charles stopped and turned to stare Edwin down. He was breathing heavily looking on the verge of tears. “I miss home,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
Before Edwin had a chance to wonder what Charles’s parents had to do with this, he was being enveloped in a hug. Oh. That kind of home.
Carefully, Edwin reciprocated, holding tightly as Charles hiccupped sobs onto his shoulder. As the tears slowly died out, Edwin gently and firmly said, “Home will always be right here. I’m not leaving, and you certainly won’t let anything take me away.” Charles huffed out a weak laugh. “We’ll be back at the agency very soon, and I will talk to both Crystal and the Night Nurse about not taking any long-distance cases for a year.”
Charles sniffled and pulled away just enough to look at Edwin as he said, “You don’t have to do that, mate. It’s fine.”
Edwin squeezed his shoulder, refusing to let go until the other did. “No, it’s not. I don’t like these types of cases either, and we shouldn’t have to push ourselves. We didn’t for thirty years and shouldn’t change now for others.”
Charles’s eyes fluttered over Edwin’s face, making him want to look away. Softly, Charles brought their heads together. “Never change, Edwin Payne,” he whispered.
“Nor you, Charles Rowland.:
#dbd pride month prompts 24#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective agency#ao3#dbda#fanfiction#edwin payne#charles rowland#edwin x charles#payneland
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giver piwon... and what exactly they love to give
piwon hyung line x fem!reader 🌨️ some smut headcanons (mentions of piv, oral sex, fingering, etc) a bit self indulgent🫣
a/n: pls forgive me guys if my writing may seem a bit rough right now because im trying to ease back into it after being busy with finals a few weeks ago.! also this is my second time trying to make this post bc tumblr decided to be shitty and delete my draft🥲 oh well...
KEEHO ┊ what use would it be if he's spending hours sweating it off at the gym and he's not gonna use his arms to keep you in place. trembling underneath his hold with your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth. especially if you love a man that makes it clear that he's in charge, asserts control over you if his words aren't enough to do so, until he has no choice but to resort to manhandling you instead. unless that's what you're really aiming for, he's not that difficult to talk to.
have you seen kyo's hands? he'll play dumb and pretend he doesn't notice the way your eyes are almost always locked onto his veiny hands whenever you hang out or... accompany him while he works out. sometimes it becomes a surprise whenever a lil work out session doesn't end up with the both of you fucking.
oh… but when the two of you can't help the heated situation, then kyo's one to greatly enjoy catching you off guard. fucking you with his fingers too good until you fall apart—the weight of your frame leaning against his own as you get lost within the bliss from the repeated pump of his digits. and when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore than what he’s giving you, he’s quick to restlessly plow his fingers slick with your wetness while he watches you writhe from his unforgiving thrusts.
his other hand unabashedly snakes from the messy sheets and against the swell of your breasts before stuffing two digits inside your mouth, earning a high sob from your throat. fuck… if only you knew just how much effect you had on him, especially with the spit dribbling by the corner of your lips until kyo can’t help but urge himself impossibly closer to your figure.
“suck,” the warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, doing so while his tongue traces the shell of your ear, the wet muscle a contrast to the trail of saliva hitting the cold air. kyo would teasingly try to mimic the way you’re swirling your tongue around his fingers, pressing his lips flush against your neck before sucking just the way you like it.
THEO ┊ if you want to have giver!theo then… work for it.
would all start from the moment he accidentally stumbles upon your little toy stash the time he’d be looking for something else in your shared apartment. i just know the gears in his head would be turning once he’d laid his eyes on your filthy little secret, silently pacing back into the living room where you’re situated on the couch, unknowing of what’s to come before you.
“so did you find what you were… looking for…” your words trail off the second your eyes met the object taeyang’s clutching between his fingers, an object far too familiar for you and yet you wanted to keep it a secret from him for now, heart hammering in your chest.
…because you know just how much your boyfriend can be a menace, especially when he gets you reduced to an adorable mess from his control. your muddied thoughts aren’t helping the situation.
and that’s how he’s gotten everything into a quick blur, your head thrown back on the surface of the couch, pillows forgotten on the floor and everything, while the weight of his hand keeps your trembling legs spread. your vision’s turning hazy from the shuddering pleasure of your vibrator taeyang repeatedly buries into your wet cunt.
“should’ve hid them better then,”
he mumbles, staring back into your beady little eyes like he knows the exact words swimming inside your mind. and what if you wanted him to discover them anyway?
“keeping a stash of toys and using them by yourself seems like no fun, you know you could always ask for my help, right?” he’s mean, asking in a tantalizing tone while your mouth’s stuffed with your panties the whole time.
and when he does really focus on your pleasure, it’ll take a while before he decides to give it his all, settling on using your toys with the promise of only sinking his cock into your hole once he’s satisfied with the amount of orgasms he’s able to get out of you first.
JIUNG ┊ if he's got something to want to endlessly give you, then it would be pleasure. which comes in different forms of course, but in this case, you won’t even have to beg him for it, he’d probably be the one to plead you to use his cock all you want to get yourself off.
he knows how much it drives you insane, so naturally he knows how to work it.
always talks about how he needs to have you in positions where he can plow you into the mattress better, so i don’t think it would be that much of a shocker if one of his favorite positions during sex would be to fold you into a mating press.
especially once he’s gotten his plan to put a ring on your finger out of the way, jiung’s quick to spoil you rotten. not like he's not already treating you delicately to the point he doesn't even want your foot to touch the bare ground… if that’s even possible.
anyway, he’s always one to dream about a future with you, wanting to settle down and move into your own home where he could spend more happy memories with you and of course, fuck you good undisturbed. enough of quickies at the dorm or whatever, where there’s a high risk of getting caught by other people.
he’s one to value his privacy especially when he’s the type to take his time especially during the act.
only and if only he could put into words just how much he loves staring down at you when you're blissed out of your mind. he jogs back to his memories of your disheveled frame tearfully moaning out underneath him while he struggles to keep steady thrusts with the plush walls of your cunt engulfing his length, pulsing around him harshly whenever he hits that one spot.
"just like that..." he'd hear you whimper out with trembling lips, sneaking in a few gropes on your ass with a gentle kiss on your forehead. fuck, he’d wanna keep at it forever. especially when he gets to witness your gasp for air every time he sinks his cock back into your needy hole. and with the sight of his warm cum seeping down the sheets once he pulls out from the sticky mess you’d made, he’s long gone from being sane.
INTAK ┊ in usual settings, intak loves to make you feel like such a princess to the point all of your friends can’t help but gush about how lucky you are. intak's never ashamed to admit you got him wrapped around your finger, pressing soft kisses on the crook of your neck while he tells you how he’s literally brought to this world just to serve you.
"and i want to make it known to you just how much i want to pleasure you all i can," he says to you with that familiar croak in his voice, and it may sound cheesy in other scenarios. yet it sends a different surge through your core when your boyfriend's got you meekly spread out for him, sopping cunt drooling perfectly while his warm breath hovers on your trembling skin.
his doe eyes are a sight for comfort, not like it ever leaves you, never ashamed to run his gaze from your flushed face over your bare figure. clothes long gone to reveal your chest heaving up and down, until his gaze locks back onto your pulsing cunt, clit swollen and needy just for him.
if only you could read his mind, know just how starved he feels for your essence drooling from your hole, glistening just to heighten the building desire from his throbbing cock even though he's eaten you out far too much that he can count.
intak's a very passionate lover. he'd let you know so obviously from the way he laps up like you as if it's the first time he's going down on his girl, like you'd purposely let him hung dry for days. when in fact he'd beg to eat you out almost everyday if you could, finding it difficult to deny especially when he'd stare at you with his dopey little grin you came to adore.
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chapter forty-seven — bounce back
➝ elisabeth share her thoughts with her father, who doesn't hold back
➝ word count: 1,8k
➝ warnings: mentions of death and emotional distress
➝ author’s note: a short one to celebrate that is not race week!
NOVEMBER, 2018
Elisabeth couldn't remember the last time she had watched a Formula 1 race away from the circuit, sitting in the comfort of a sofa. And she was sure her father didn't remember either.
Sitting next to her, Niki had his blue eyes fixed on the board. With his red cap on his head and his arms crossed, he seemed less than pleased with the overtake that Max Verstappen had just made over Lewis Hamilton. However, his expression, as well as his grumpy comments about the team's strategy, were secondary to Elisabeth.
It was unbelievable that he was still there.
After the treatment alternatives were exhausted and Doctor Idzko stated that Niki needed an urgent transplant within a week to have a chance of surviving, Elisabeth was unable to avoid the sadness that came over her. She didn't feel like going to the factory in England, much less attending the races in the circuits on her father's behalf. She just wanted to stay by Niki's side, taking care of him, trying to enjoy those last moments with him.
Until a phone call changed the course of Niki's situation. A donation of a pair of possibly compatible lungs rekindled hope in the whole family. The operation was carried out successfully on the first day of August and, fortunately, his body accepted the new organs well. His release from the hospital, just over two months later, marked what her father called his “third life”.
And he was making the most of it.
— What? — Niki grunted, looking sideways at her daughter.
— Nothing.
— You're looking at me with a strange face.
She just gave a small smile.
— Just enjoying your presence — Elisabeth replied, stretching her arm towards him — I missed you, you know?
The former driver took her hand affectionately, his thumb caressing her skin.
— Something told me you did.
— Was it my daily visits?
— No, in fact it was Toto.
Elisabeth rolled her eyes.
— He can't keep that mouth shut...
— In fact, when it comes to you, he's completely incapable — Niki murmured, his eyes shifting to the screen, where the radio transcript indicated that the Mercedes was preparing for a double pit stop. He pursed his lips as he watched the silver car with the number 77 stuck on its nose enter the pit straight, seeming to evaluate the choice made by the strategists.
A few seconds later, it was Lewis's turn to enter the pits, while Red Bull Racing's Max Verstappen increased his lead.
— They shouldn't have put these super soft ones...
— Why?
— Since the FIA ordered the holes in the wheels to be closed, this car has lost performance on these types of tires. The best thing was to start with the soft ones, like the Ferrari…
Looking at the leaderboard, Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.
— Not that they're better than us, right? — she commented, while the narrator spoke of Kimi Räikkönen and Sebastian Vettel's difficulty in remaining in second and third position, respectively — They still need to stop, don't they?
— That doesn't mean they're not capable of catching up to us, especially with worn-out tires — Niki muttered, looking at the screen.
She didn't say anything, after all, he was the one who knew everything about Formula 1 — at least from a technical point of view — and, in a way, that was what made them a good pair at the negotiating table. The memory of their last meeting together, in Brackley, made her smile.
However, it was short-lived, as a sharp kick towards the ribs made Elisabeth hiss.
— Any problem? — the ex-driver asked — Is that my granddaughter?
— You should stop with this granddaughter thing, you know? — she grunted, massaging the side of her belly in an attempt to move her child's foot away — And yes, it's the baby.
— I know it's a girl, Mauslein, there's no point in complaining — Niki said — Is she kicking you?
— More specifically my ribs — Elisabeth murmured, squeaking with the new kick. It was something she had noticed over the last few weeks and, according to her research and the app she was using, it was completely normal, but it was still uncomfortable, not to mention painful.
Her father slid across the couch, sitting closer to her. Then, placing one hand on her protruding belly, he began to caress it.
— You should give your mother a break, mausi — Niki said in the direction of her belly, while being watched by her daughter — Kicking her won't make you leave any faster, you know?
Elisabeth smiled a little.
— Maybe it would be better if it came soon, wouldn't it?
— Why?
— So you can meet it.
Niki frowned.
— She doesn't need to rush into this world. Until she's here, I'm not going anywhere.
There were a few seconds of hesitation, the race narration being the only sound that prevented the environment from falling into complete silence.
— I was scared — Elisabeth whispered.
— Of what?
— That you wouldn’t meet the baby.
The former pilot withdrew his hand, a skeptical expression on his face.
— Elisabeth — he said in a reprimanding tone.
— Dad, you were lying in a hospital bed, breathing on machines and with all the doctors telling you that you would only get out of there if a pair of lungs fell from the sky — she began to speak, her eyes wet — What do you imagine I would think?
— That you have no power to change my ending — Niki replied, dryly.
It hit her like a punch. Tears ran down her cheeks, thick and bitter.
— Dad…
— Elisabeth, you can't do anything about this. I'm going to die, it's a fact.
— But I wanted you to meet the baby…
— And what difference would it make if she met me?
She stared at him for long seconds, her lower lip trembling. Upon realizing that his daughter wasn't going to say anything, the former pilot let out a long sigh.
— I know I said I wanted to see you become a mother, but that doesn't mean I need to see it. You don't need me for that...
— I need it, dad! — Elisabeth exclaimed, gesturing with her hands — How am I going to be a mother without you?
— As far as I know, I've already done my part in this process, which was putting you into the world and raising you. From there, it's up to you, Mauslein.
— But who will help me…
— This child's father — her father cut her off — And, as far as I know, he had two other children before this, so he doesn't lack experience.
Elisabeth didn't dare look at Niki, feeling like a scolded kid.
— Tell me, do you remember your grandparents at any of your birthday parties? — he asked.
— No.
— Because they didn't go to them. Well, there was no way they could go, since when you were born, both my father and your mother's parents had already died. And it's okay, you didn't miss them at all...
— Didn't you miss it? — Elisabeth stammered.
— No, Mauslein. Because what you needed was me and your mother, not your grandmother. In fact, I don't think she would do anything much other than judge your brothers for riding motorbikes and you for not straightening your hair, so it was even better that way.
Feeling a kick from the baby, she looked at her belly wistfully, resting her hand on the curve formed under the dress she was wearing. Her father, as it always seemed, was right. She had grown up without her grandparents around and visits to the woman who had inspired her name could be counted on her fingers.
However, if her father wasn't interested in bringing his children closer to Mrs. Lauda, Elisabeth didn't think the same way. She wanted to have Niki around, she wanted him to create the bond that, even though he hadn't missed it, was still something special.
— You don't want to be around, then? — she asked softly.
Her father snorted.
— Is that what you understood, Elisabeth? — Niki returned, without waiting for a response to continue — What I want to say is that my granddaughter doesn't need me around, in the same way that you didn't need Ernst. But that doesn't mean I won't be around, on the contrary. Someone needs to make sure Toto doesn't spoil my granddaughter.
A shy smile appeared on her face.
— He won’t spoil it…
— He won't, I won't let him — the ex-pilot said, chuckling.
Running a hand over her cheek, Elisabeth wiped away the tear that was sitting there, before looking back at the television, where a Red Bull appeared to have had some trouble.
— And this is Max Verstappen, the leader of the race, he spun on the way down the hill — the narrator exclaimed, as the camera moved away, showing a pink Force India car — Did they make contact?
— I'm not sure what that Force India was trying to do at that point, as a straggler — the commentator said.
The onboard image confirmed that there had been a dispute between the Dutchman and the Frenchman, who seemed to want to fight for space on the track despite being one lap behind, in 16th position. While Verstappen cursed his gridmate over the radio, Elisabeth looked at her father with wide eyes.
— Do you think he will make it back?
— He'll probably just need to change the tires — Niki replied — But that's good for Lewis. Very good.
In fact, that was good. Good enough for the Mercedes stickered with the number 44 to cross the finish line first. The flag made Elisabeth squeal, clapping her hands excitedly while her father smiled proudly. Giving the former driver a hug, she kissed his cheek.
— Another title, dad — she said, smiling.
— And there are five, now! — Niki replied, before pointing to the television.
On the screen, Toto appeared celebrating effusively alongside Bradley. The scene filled Elisabeth's heart with warmth, a silly smile appearing on her lips. A smile of admiration for the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with.
— I think he did fine without us, don't you? — she asked, giving her father a mischievous look.
— Yes, it was.
— Hi, my world champion — she greeted him with a small smile.
— Hi, my love — the team principal replied, returning the smile — Another one for the shelf, did you see?
— I saw it, my father and I saw it — Elisabeth said, turning the cell phone slightly to the side so that Niki was on the screen. Her father tilted his head slightly before theatrically taking off his cap without saying a word. It wasn't like he needed it, since that gesture said it all.
He was satisfied with what he had seen.
— I hope the result lived up to your expectations, Mr. Lauda.
— Couldn't have done a better job, Toto.
— Thank you, Niki.
— Now, we have to continue working for the sixth. And this is going to be a challenge, my friend.
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