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thebestofoneshots · 10 months

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MARAUDWEEEN

Renegades | Remus Lupin x reader

Pairing: Remus L. x Reader + bits of Sirius x reader

Word Count: 6.8 k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, P in V, lots of praise, bit of oral near the end (male receiving) consent is sexy, lusty!Remus, childhood friends to enemies to lovers.

Prompt: As a part of the Maraudween Series, this fic takes you to an Alternate Universe where Remus Lupin is the Sheriff of Moonridge and you’re an outlaw he’s bound to chase after, but there’s a catch, you knew each other in the past, and the tension between the two is palpable, to say the least.

Maraudween is a Halloween-inspired anthology series where each chapter transports you into a distinct alternate universe. From the real world to old western Texas and even through the dark times of vampires. These standalone tales invite you into a realm of boundless potential. Experience the enchantment of Halloween as it weaves its spell, intertwining the magic of costumes, AUs, terror and spice.

NSFW (Smut under the cut) ♡

The sun was hot against you, almost burning the unclothed soft skin of the back of your hand as you stared at the long dirt road ahead of you. There was a man a few feet from you, tall, broad chest, handsome. The Sheriff of Moonridge, Moony, as Sirius would call him, just to spite the man. Or… The Wolf, like most criminals, knew him.

Things didn’t go awry on his watch, Moonridge was the safest town in the west and it was because they had a protecting Wolf against all the bandits that even dared get close enough. No one had managed to cause havoc in his town. No one except yourself.

His hand was on his hostler, so was yours, you could see his grip tightening in the distance, a warning, telling you he was ready, telling you he was faster, telling you you’d be gone in an instant if he took it out. He was the fastest gunsIinger of the West. You smiled, placing your own hand on your own hostler, because it didn’t matter if he was faster, not today at least.

3 seconds passed, he was looking at the way you smiled when a horse barged in from the side. Sirius and Firebolt. Your smile grew wider as the man on the horse extended his hand and hauled you over it, zigzagging his way towards the Sheriff.

“Took you long enough,” you huffed.

Sirius looked back and flashed you a smile as he bit his lip “Saw this beauty,” He said as he raised one of his hands up to your face, there was a small gold ring on his pinky, contrasting against the rest of silver rings he wore “Had to get it for my favourite outlaw.”

“You’re not gonna appease me with a little trinket.”

He pouted “Come on baby, you really think I only got one little trinket?” he asked as he nodded to the thick bag that hung from his belt “I’d get you the entire jewellery if that’s what you wanted.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, pulling out his gun and firing a warning shot against the Sheriff's feet even in the horse, you had one hell of an aim. That’s how Sirius had discovered you and hauled you into the life of an outlaw after your parents passed away and your uncle was ready to sell you to an old man in exchange for a piece of land.

When you were about to pass next to the man, you put the gun back on Sirius’ hostler and placed your hand on his shoulder, “What are you…?” he started to ask, but shut his mouth when he noticed.

You had leaned down and taken the Sheriff’s hat from his head, and placed it on yours “Thanks Sheriff,” you said in a cocksure tone, a mocking smile and a wink before taking the gun from Sirius again and shooting another warning shot. A few more horses had gathered around you, the rest of the gang.

“Just shoot him somewhere Fox!” Barty said as he got slightly close.

“Oh, but Sheriff Moons is the only one that puts up a fight, it will be boring if he’s gone,” you responded with a pout.

“Why the hat?” asked Sirius, he looked to you over his shoulder before turning back ahead, you could hear the hooves clicking against the ground, approaching your group fast. You turned around and saw the Sheriff, chasing after you on his massive steed, a gift from the bankers after he stopped a robbery, if the rumours were true.

“A little souvenir,” you said with a shrug as you turned around and waved at the Sheriff, hoisting your own gun out and shooting at the side of a light post, causing it to fall down on the floor, a few metres ahead of the man.

“You missed,” teased Crouch. You just smiled, the kerosene from the broken street lamp was on the floor, slipping through the sides and making almost the perfect line, you shot at that this time around and the fire started ablaze.

“You were saying?” you asked your friend, he gave you an approving look. There was a reason you had been made a member of The Marauders, and it wasn’t just to be the leader’s little plaything as some other bands assumed.

Regardless of the fire, the Sheriff’s horse had no fear, and jumped over it, still trailing close behind, “Prongs, you got the timing right still, correct?” Sirius asked.

James nodded, he was Sirius’ best friend, and one of the minds behind the plan of this heist, “Of course,” he said and Sirius tightened his grip on the reins and spurred Firebolt.

Things were getting faster, you kept shooting at things to deter the Sheriff from following, but he was just as relentless as your gang, and followed behind the three of you. “It’s coming,” you said when you heard the whistle of the train. The chug-chug of it would have been enough to deter any horse, but you had trained yours well.

When the train was about to reach the spot you walked through, the horses jumped, to the other side of the tracks, your hat –Remus hat– almost flew off your head, but you managed to hold it with one hand while you used the other to grab onto Sirius and avoid falling of the horse yourself. Once Crouch, the last one to cross made it, the train passed right in front of you, making the perfect wall, in between you and the sheriff.

But that wasn’t the end of the plan, there was a chirping sound from a few carts back and suddenly a side of the train fell open, inside waited for you the rest of the gang. Peter, the mousy guy nicknamed Wormtail and Evan, Bartie's lover. The second guy was a lot more on the peaceful side, but when Barty joined he clarified that he came as a package. Either Evan came with him or he continued by himself, the way he always had been.

James and Sirius agreed, and he was glad he did, since it was thanks to that, that they had another master planner in the team. All the horses jumped up the ramp and into the train, and Evan and Wormy quickly picked the latch up and closed the cart. You smiled and looked at Sirius, a shine in your eyes that let him know exactly what you wanted, “Was it perhaps dangerous?” Yes. But Sirius already knew you found a thrill for danger when he recruited you. He also knew you ended up in a better mood when he indulged you.

You gave him a wink and went to the door of the wagon and opened it with a rather strong pull, slipping out only partially, the Sheriff, had been shocked when the train passed and there was no one left, being stunned by the magic of it before realising you’d somehow gotten on the train and chasing behind. He was a few blocks back, and you smiled, pulling off the hat in a small nod and waving to him with it “Thanks for the souvenir,” you shouted. He pulled his gun and aimed a shot, but you moved to the side and he missed by the hair, you were expecting it. You gave the man a pout as he aimed again, but Sirius was faster, pulling you inside and shutting the door before the second shot even reached the cart.

“You’re absolutely insane,” Evan said in disbelief.

You shrugged “I like to think I’m fun.” You then placed the hat back in your head “What do we think?” you asked with a smile “Nice souvenir, right?”

“It’s rather elegant,” agreed Barty.

“How long are we staying?” Sirius asked Evan.

“12 more minutes,” the blonde responded as he checked his pocket watch, “then we’re out and ride towards Hideout 6.”

You smiled and hummed “I love Hideout 6.”

Barty almost rolled his eyes, he knew why you liked it, he liked it for the same reason. It was big, it had comfortable beds and private rooms. He just didn’t like when Sirius and you were too loud.

A few minutes later, you heard a clock chime and James spoke “Time to get down.”

Peter rode with him, while Evan got on Barty’s horse. You, as you had done earlier, mounted Firebolt along Sirius. They opened the ramp and you all rode down and towards the hideout. In less than half an hour, you’d already gotten there. Evan checked the traps, to make sure no one had sneaked inside while you were gone and you all got in. You took a piece of dried jerky to snack on and walked upstairs, Sirius and the rest stayed, splitting the plunder. While on a normal gang, you wouldn’t trust them to do it evenly without you, you knew Sirius and James would never allow such scheming inside the Marauders. More than a team, the group was like a family.

You were lying on the bed, the sheriff’s hat over your head blocking out the light when you heard a knock on the door “Who?”

“The love of your life,” he responded, you rolled your eyes but mumbled something that sounded close to “come in”, not that it had been necessary, Sirius was already walking inside. “I see you’ve kept the hat,” he said before sitting beside you, turning the bag he’d hold onto and letting the contents fall on the bed.

You took it from your head and sat down beside him, to take a peek at what he’d kept, “Smells nice,” you said pointing at the hat dismissively. Sirius took the hat to his nose, and it really did smell nice. While most cowboys’ hats smelled like nothing more than sweat, this one had a rather distinctive and pleasant aroma, most likely from whatever grooming products the owner used “We should ask him what cologne he’s using now.”

Sirius sighed “You miss him, do you not?”

You shrugged, ignoring the question “We’ve picked very different paths to his own,” you said simply, a tone that let Sirius know that you did not want to talk about it. But after all, it had also been why you never shot him directly.

You all knew The Wolf of Moonridge, except you knew him as Remus.

Sirius traced his finger over your clothed thigh, and you gave him a soft smile, one that contrasted with whatever mask it was you wore when you stepped outside the hideouts and onto a raid. One that only he and maybe James were allowed to see, he loved it. And then gave you a similar face in return. He grabbed onto your hand and pulled it towards his, taking the ring from his small finger and slipping it onto your ring one. Sirius had always had relatively thin fingers, even for a man.

You extended your hand with a half smile and looked at it, turning it around swiftly as you stared “Looks good on me, doesn’t it?”

“Anything looks beautiful on you,” he said, and then smirked “In fact, nothing looks better on you.”

You gave him a rather incredulous look with his suggestive little tone, he pulled you by the hips on top of him, the rest of the gems and jewels he had stolen already forgotten on the bed as he pulled you into a heated kiss. You were already halfway removing the buttons of his shirt when there was a rather urgent knock on the door.

You both ignored it, and went back to kissing, but the person persisted, both of you separated from each other and looked at the door “What?” you said at the same time, annoyance laced in your tone.

“We’ve been found out. Moony followed us somehow.”

“What?!” You asked with a frown “Not Hideout 6!” you whined.

“That clever son of a bitch,” Sirius huffed “Alright luv,” he said, his hand patting your leg “Time for some action,” he added with a half smile.

You hummed in response. As Sirius stood up, you grabbed the bag and threw all the jewels inside, fastening it to your belt before putting your boots on, “Hey babe?” He hummed, “Don’t you think Sheriff Moons grew up rather handsome?”

Sirius threw you a look “He grew up fine,” he responded.

“Aye he did,” you said. “If it were a different situation, perhaps we could drag him to our bed.”

He looked at you, eyes narrowing “You want to drag him to your bed, don’t you?”

You shrugged, putting on the sheriff’s hat again “He smells really nice.”

Sirius laughed at the silly innocent smile you were giving him after hearing such a request “If anyone can convince him, it’s definitely you darling…” He dragged you by the waist and placed another kiss on your lips, taking some time to smell the sides of your face, exactly where you had placed the hat earlier “You’re right, he does.”

When you separated you smiled up at him, and then you heard a gunshot, “I hope he doesn’t fucking ruin hideout 6 for everyone,” you said with a huff as you took a кnife and placed your gun in your hostler. Sirius grabbed you by the waist again, pulling you to him. Your eyes shone with lust at the instructions he whispered into your ear, “And that would work?” you asked, turning to him with a shrewd look.

“Don’t overestimate your abilities, darling,” he told you with a wink and nodded, a sly smirk forming on your face as you both placed yourselves on each side of the door. Sirius opened it carefully, the gunshots still going off in the distance.

There was a moment of heavy breathing as the door opened completely, and then Sirius leaned over the frame, only letting a little of his head out as he searched for signs of someone. He pulled back and nodded. The two of you stepped out, guns held high as you walked down the stairs.

Midway down, you heard a gunshot, the bullet biting onto the wood of the railling and spluttering to the side. You looked around, they were shooting from the outside, Barty and Evan were shooting from one of the windows while Peter and James were on the sides of the front door, the hinges had been torn apart by a gunslinger with surprising accuracy and the door was currently laying on the floor.

“Well there goes hideout six,” you mumbled “How many?”

“At least 6 of them,” Barty responded.

“Sheriff’s with them,” James warned.

You took a deep breath but nodded looking at Sirius and tilted your head just a little “Andromeda's Strategy?”

Sirius took a second to process your suggestion and nodded in response “We’re doing Andromeda, get ready.”

You smiled, in seconds the boys were shooting and both you and Sirius finished walking down the stairs and into a more secluded area. You walked to the side of the house and used a lighter to turn on a long fuse that was connected to the garden with an underground pipe. “Ears!” you shouted, and everyone placed their hands over their own.

3…2…1… Boom!

The explosion caused some of the men to fall back and then started emitting a good deal of smoke. You didn’t say a thing, everyone knew what they had to do. Sirius mounted Firebolt and offered you his hand, but you shook your head “I’m taking his horse, he’ll have to follow.”

Sirius gave you an incredulous look, and then smiled proudly “I’ll see you at our spot later, deal?”

You nodded with a little smirk as you bit your lip. “If things go as planned, we’ll definitely have fun.”

Sirius winked at you and started riding away. You took that as your sign and went through the smoke. The others were still distracted enough not to notice you when you walked behind them, uniting most of their horses and firing a shot just next to them to scare them away. You mounted Moony’s horse and let the last one free, but you didn’t prompt it to run, after all, Remus would have to find a way to follow you.

Once some of the smoke dissipated, you made sure Remus saw you, pulling the horse back a little to make him stand on his back legs for just a second before riding away. The boys were already riding in all sorts of directions, all different to your own and the men didn’t know who to follow behind, until Remus gave them orders.

He’s certainly good at giving orders, you thought as you waved at him with a taunting smile on your face. One of his men, a short, disagreeable-looking dude pointed his gun at you, and you stared at him, you knew he was a bad shot from the sole way he stood, legs wobbling and posture askew, poor dude, it might have been his first day. He fired the shot, but Remus pushed him away before he tried again “Not at my horse,” he said sternly.

You smiled “Yeah, not at his horse,” you repeated and rode off. Remus mounted the only horse left and indicated the others to follow behind the trial of the rest of the marauders.

“She’s the best shot in the county boss, it’s a bad idea to go alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Remus said, offering no further explanation before following behind you.

You both sped through the desert, it didn’t take him that long to catch up with you “Darling, I’m gonna need you to give back my horse and my hat,” he shouted, as he levelled with you.

“And surrender like that?” you asked with a pout “That wouldn’t be fun Remus,” you said before spurring the horse, leaving Moony behind.

Eventually, when you lost sight of him, you walked inside a small abandoned-looking little house, where you used to live before your family passed away. You walked inside and waited, you started to get bored at some point and went to rummage through the kitchen. You heard the creak of a floorboard and then someone was hauling you from the back, a кnife at your throat and a strong arm pressing you against his chest with enough force to keep you there but not enough to hurt you.

You pulled your hips back against his “Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?”

He tightened his grip, кnife prickling at the tender skin of your neck “Come on… why do you do this?” he asked.

“Because it’s fun Moons,” you replied as you felt the кnife pierce just slightly, deciding to pull your hips back again, this time making sure to roll them against his.

“Stop that!” he ordered.

“Make me,” you responded with a devilish little smirk, he hauled you off him and onto a nearby wall, кnife still at your throat.

“Come on darling-“

“It’s Fox now,” you interrupted.

“Does Sirius also call you that now?”

You didn’t respond, jaw clenching slightly.

“Thought so,” he said with a nod and whispered your name, almost a plea, completely in contrast with the way he had you against the wall, a small line of bIood already dripping from your neck, “Just… come back.”

“Back where?!” you said with a frown “With Uncle Cliff? So he can sell me off to the first old banker that asks for my hand? No, thank you.”

“Marry me, I’ll ask Cliff for your hand.”

You scoffed the кnife digging deeper into your skin, Remus pulled it back when he noticed, not having realised he had caused you to bleed, “What a hell of a proposal, with a кnife against my neck and one against your ribs.”

“What кnife against my–?” He looked down and realised your hand toying with one of the buttons of his vest, he sighed and turned back to you “I’m faster. I’ve always been faster.”

“No doubt,” you smiled, “but you want to slice my throat as much as I want to get married to an old rich banker.”

“You don’t want to stab me either,” he said as he pulled back, raising his hand and placing the кnife on its hoster. “The offer’s on, either way.”

You raised your eyebrows, leaning back against the wall and using your ascot to clean the bIood from your neck. “The marriage proposal you mean?” He looked to the side but nodded. “Why didn’t you ask me before?”

That seemed to take him by surprise “I’m sorry?”

“Before this,” you said, arms open, trying to express before you became who you were now.

He swallowed “You’d always liked Sirius.”

“That’s bullshit.”

He huffed “I thought you wouldn’t want me.”

That pulled a frown “What? Why?”

Then he pulled a look at you, a frown and a small tilt of his head as if he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to say it was because of the way he looked, because of the scars, because he had nothing to offer you back then.

You gasped “Don’t be ridiculous, you must get hundreds of women thrown at you, the Handsome Wolf of Moonridge, you think I haven’t heard the stories?”

“They’re not like you.”

“You hold way too high standards for me Moons, I think I’m just like them, swayed by the handsome cowboy,” you said and walked towards him, placing your hand on his badge “And the little shiny star on his chest.”

He frowned, “You just want me to let you go,” he said bitterly.

“Au contraire,” you said with a tilt of the head. “I want you to join us. We could use a great gunslinger.”

He raised his eyebrows “to stop being the Sheriff and join your gang of outlaws?”

“Mh-hm,” you said, your hands were now on his neck, tracing over some of the scars with a feather-like touch.

“No.”

You stood on your toes to whisper in his ear, “Allow me to persuade you.”

“NO,” he repeated, stronger this time, you smiled. You could hear the wavering in his voice.

You pressed a soft kiss, wet kiss to his jaw, and you felt him tense, another kiss and he was relaxing against you, his body giving in while his mind still raised with thoughts, you continued kissing until you reached the corner of his mouth, pressing a kiss that lasted just a second longer before pulling away “Tell me if you want me to stop,” you said looking at him, a deadIy serious tone in your voice.

Remus looked at you, eyes pleading before he placed his hands on the sides of your head and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed back instantly, brushing your tongue over his and deepening the kiss when he parted them to let you in. Remus was kissing you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and you kissed back in a similarly desperate manner.

Eventually, you pulled apart to take a breath, and you saw his doubtful face. He was about to say something when you leaned down to trail kisses from his jaw to his neck, fighting with the collar of his shirt for more space.

He saw you reach for your кnife, and he let you, if he was going to diе in between your kisses, then it would be the sweetest farewell a man like him could hope for. But you only used it to cut the buttons of his vest, letting the кnife fall on the floor before pulling the piece of clothing off from him. He allowed you, he’d allow you to do whatever the hell you wanted to him at that point if he was being honest.

He had been pretty passive up until then, but the moment you grazed over his thin linen shirt with your fingernails he seemed to be brought back. Placing his hand on your hips and pushing you further onto the wall, you smiled in between kisses as he pressed his knee in between your legs. You were still kissing him as you started to rock your hips against his leg, grinding on him shamelessly.

He groaned at the feeling of your hips rolling back and forth, grabbing your hair and pulling it lightly to get your lips away from his neck, to be able to look at your face again, to make sure it was real, to make sure it really had been you.

You smiled when you realised he was staring, thinking of a snarky remark to give only for it to be caught in your throat the moment he leaned down to kiss it. Licking over the place he had unwittingly cut and savouring the taste of sweat and copper “I’m sorry,” he mumbled against it as he continued to press kisses, “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Neither Remus nor you were sure if he was sorry for slicing your skin, for not daring to ask you to marry him before you became “Fox”, or for taking this long to finally press his lips to yours, perhaps it was all of it.

“Then make it up to me,” you managed to say with another roll of your hips against his leg.

He hummed into your neck, a mischievous smile, reminiscent of when you were children appeared on his lips “Tell me what you want.”

There were so many things that you wanted, but the only thing that could come to your mind in that precise instant was “Fewer clothes.”

“Yours or mine?” he teased and you huffed in response as he pulled his hands from you to unbutton his shirt and pull it off, he then went for yours, untying the ascot with his hands and teeth and immitting your earlier movement by taking his кnife to break the buttons of your shirt apart, and pulling it off along with your jacket, leaving you only with a corset.

He took his moment to look, to appreciate, before you spoke “Commission a drawing, it’ll last longer,” you teased.

“Sirius must have hundreds already, I could always confiscate them when we finally trap you.”

“Or you could ask for them nicely once you join our team,” you countered.

He huffed a laugh in response “And now?”

“And now?” You repeated.

“What else do you want?” he asked, his fingers tracing over your collarbone, torturous feather light touches that made you feel like you were on fire.

You flushed and his gaze darkened, “touch me,” you whispered and he complied, his hands trailing all over your body shamelessly as he started to flex his thigh muscles, causing you to go back to riding it, with his help now.

He too, without being prompted, went back to kissing your neck, now trailing kisses down your collarbone and towards the valley of your breasts. Lucious, soft breasts that would press against the fabric of your corset whenever you breathed, taunting him. He wanted to see them bare, and so he trailed his hands through your back and felt the laces. He toyed with one of the ends before looking at you, you nodded and he undid the top, trying to unlace it as he kissed.

But Remus wasn’t a particularly patient man, even being often teased by his friends due to his sometimes explosive temperament. He went back to his hoster and took the кnife out. “Don’t move,” he commanded. You stared at him with a smirk as he peered over your shoulder, grazing the skin of your back with the кnife before latching it against the lacing of your corset and cutting them all open in one swift motion.

You smiled, holding the piece of clothing against yourself and releasing only when he had pulled back enough to see. You let it slowly fall from your chest, it wasn’t even halfway down when he fisted it and threw it to the side, desperate to see you.

To see you up front, to see what his imagination had been showing him for so many years but better, brighter, warmer, softer and alive. He had seen a few of Sirius’ drawings, all from the fantasies of his head from when they were younger, but nothing compared to this, nothing compared to you.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he murmured under his breath.

“Could have it every day if you joined us,” you said, taking one of his hands in yours and leading it to one of your breasts.

He smiled at you, eyebrows raised but complied, letting your hand guide his, squeezing and then pinching your now hardened nipples “Could also have the entire law system behind my back, having to turn my head and worrying about getting shot every ten seconds,” he responded sarcastically as he trailed kisses down your neck towards the breast he wasn’t touching yet, “Not being able to sleep properly, always with a gun under my pillow and a кnife strapped to my leg.”

You moaned when he kissed your breast, he was enjoying the way the soft, supple flesh pushed under his mouth and sprang back just as he pulled away to look “Wouldn’t it be worth it?” you asked, breathless.

The sounds you were making were driving the man to insanity, him fading and fading away, leaving only the hungry wolf. He hummed as he took your nipple in between his teeth and nibbled on it softly, causing yet another moan to erupt from your mouth. Perhaps it would be, he thought.

You lowered your hand towards his pants, palming him softly as he groaned into your breast. He was hard and he was definitely big, a testament to his height after all. You couldn’t be sure until you actually saw him, but he felt bigger than Sirius did.

“Fuck, dove…” he said as you started stroking him gently, hand still over his pants, dragging up and down and gripping unto him when you felt the outline against your palm.

“Language Sheriff,” you teased, this time it was you who pulled his hair and dragged him towards your lips, kissing him with an almost feverish ardour that left the two of you breathless, all the while you continued to rock your hips against his thigh and he continued to flex his muscles against your cunt. And your hand, that devious hand of yours, the sharpest shot in the west, trading the gun for his cock, never stopping the lazy and soft strokes. “Ask me that question of yours again Remus…” you breathed into his mouth when your lips separated for just a second.

He smirked into your lips “Tell me doll, what do you want?”

You smiled “I want you to…” you breathed “touch more.”

He looked surprised at your request, and you used the moment to drag the hand on your waist lower, enough to bring it in between your pants. Remus took the opportunity and seized it, using his free hand to unbutton the few buttons that kept the pants in position and freely roam around, you were wet, almost impossibly wet. He didn’t wait too much, tracing his fingers through your folds as he used his knee to hoist you up and get better access, massaging and exploring the sensitive area until he discovered a spot that made you tighten your grip around his bicep, digging your nails so hard you almost pierced his skin.

“You want more of that?” he asked as he brought his lips back to your neck, you nodded and pushed your hips against his hand again, chasing for more friction and he chuckled, shaking his head in between kisses “No, no, use that pretty little mouth of yours to ask for it dove,” he tutted.

You whined in response, and he just chuckled further, taking his hand away and placing it on your leg “Remus!” you warned.

“Yes, dove? What do you want?” he asked calmly.

You scoffed in frustration licking your lips as you fought your way to surrender, and then you thought of yet another way to rile the man up “I want your fingers, Remus. I want them inside me, now.”

He considered asking you to say please at least, to beg, but he was mildly aware that you may or may not bonk him in the head if he dared to do such a thing, so he only listened, dragging his fingers back to your cunt, toying with your clit until he was satisfied with how wet his hands were and then, without a warning, digging two fingers inside you. Your breath hitched in your throat and your nails dug into his bicep even more, leaving little crescent moons imprinted on his skin, very proper for the Wolf of Moonridge.

“Hurts?” he asked breathlessly. You buckled your hips against his fingers in response. “Good,” he added and started pumping them in and out, curling them inside of you and toying with your clit as he did “You’re so fucking tight,” he mumbled, more to himself, but you heard either way, and clenched around his fingers, causing yet a few other curses to leave his mouth.

As he fingerfucked you, you brought your free hand down, stopping your own strokes to take it off, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall on the floor with a thud as you also took the button of his briefs off. His cock pretty much sprang and bumped with his belly as they too fell on the floor. You buckled your hips against his hand, head pulling back and biting your lips as he touched a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck Remus,” you breathed out, his name on your lips making the most pleasurable sound he’d ever heard.

He repeated his actions and in a matter of seconds, he had you panting, barely managing to make a coherent thought until you clenched around him again, hips making the most erratic movements until you leaned down your head against his bare shoulder as he slowed his pace.

“So… You still very sure you don’t want to be the Sheriff’s little wife?” he asked in cocky tone.

It took you a minute to process his question, his fingers still moving inside you although the pace had slowed significantly, and then you stared down, his cock was still there, hard and proud, a bit of precum brimming from the tip, you smiled and reached down, wrapping your hand around him and relishing on the way he groaned, the sound so close to your ear you almost shivered in return. You moved your hand up and then down and then toyed with the tip. Sirius had taught you how good it made men feel, seemed to be working just as well on Moony.

As you stroked him, Remus’ fingers became less confident, less focused, almost lost in the pleasure you were giving him, he was panting, you had managed to stand straighter and he had his head on your shoulder now, head cloudy and kissing your neck whenever his head allowed him to make a coherent thought. He had never felt this good with anyone. Whatever it was you were doing to him, you clearly knew what to do.

“Ask me that question again,” you taunted.

He seemed fazed, blinking at you in between pants “What,” breath “do you,” another deep breath “want?”

You smiled at that “I want this,” you tightened your grip around his cock just a little “now.”

That seemed to bring Remus’ vigour back, he pulled his leg from under you and allowed you to fall back on the ground, you pushed your pants off as fast as you could and Remus took a moment to look at you, to really look at your naked frame and his pupils were blown, much more that they had been in the past. He tried to memorise every curve and corner and crevice, scared he wouldn’t be able to see them again, you saw the way he stared at you and bit your lip “I said now, Remus.”

He didn’t make you wait another second, placing both of his hands on the side of your waist and hoisting you up on him, so you were straddling him, you bit your lip at the feeling of his thick and warm cock against your folds, and grinded against him by pushing your hips and tightening your legs around his torso. He tightened his hold on your waist, his breath growing heavier as he felt your wetness against him directly.

You rolled your hips again “All right, hold on,” he said “I’m trying to adjust.” You just rolled your hips against him again, causing the skin around his cock to ride down, and prompting him to hiss. “I said wait goddamnit,” he insisted a bit more commanding this time around.

You smirked “I like it when you order me around Sheriff Moons,” you joked, and he threw you a warning look, you opened your mouth again, but he had taken his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip to your clit, so instead of another witty remark you only managed to gasp.

It was he who smirked now, but then he stared at you, looking at you attentively “I’m going in,” he informed, and then he did, slowly, to allow you to adjust to his size, not completely at first, only the tip before pulling out again, next time he went in he pushed a little further again. You breathed slowly, he didn’t move, not until you started to clench around him, almost drawing him in even more “You feel so fucking good dove.”

That was all the encouragement you needed, you rolled your hips against his, a little harshly and he pushed towards you again, you let a sound in between a whine and a moan and he repeated the action, pushing in and out just to hear that sweet sound of yours again. The sound that made him go wolfish, undomesticated, wild.

Like an animal, like the wolf they always compared him with, he had no control, not when he was with you. At some point, you felt his lips on yours again, and you kissed back eagerly, you’d never taken Remus as a romantic, but then again, the way he was fucking you against the wall wasn’t exactly the most romantic either, he was harsh and strong and he pushed in and out of you with a ferocity that had you mumbling his name incoherently, sometimes Moons, sometimes Moony, sometimes Remus. That was his favourite.

Regardless, there was something about the way he held you close to him, the way his hands would travel up and down your thigh, almost reverently, that you could see there was care behind his actions, perhaps something more, something hidden and locked up for years out of fear.

At some point his movements became a little erratic, you clenched around him, just to tease and he bit your earlobe in response “I’m going to…”

“Yeah, I know…” you responded. He pulled out of you, ready to catch it with his hand, but then he turned to you, a mischievous smile on his lips “where do you want me?”

You were almost taken aback by his words, but you wouldn’t pass out such an opportunity, you kneeled down in front of him, and peered at him through your lashes “In my mouth.”

He froze, and you smiled, the very reaction you had expected. Then you nodded your head and dragged it closer to him, wrapping your lips around his tip, and bobbing your head, just once, and you felt the spurts of liquid into your mouth, you bobbed again, helping him empty himself before separating completely, a line of spit forming between your mouth and his cock. You looked up at him as you panted, breath heavy and chest rising up and down, your nipples still perked, your lips wet and glossy, you were the prettiest sight he’d ever seen and he was about to lean down to kiss you again when you spoke.

“Have I convinced you yet?”

Remus didn’t say a thing, he looked at you as a deer trapped in the headlights would, still hazy and seeing stars from his close orgasm, but then he heard someone clear his throat, and he was quite literally looking at a star now, Sirius.“If she hasn’t,” Sirius said as he tilted his head in the most lustful and cocksure expression he had ever seen in his life, biting his lascivious lips before he spoke again “I may have an idea of how we can convince you… together.”

A/N: well I’d been wanting to write e Cowboy au for a while, and while there are still some other tropes that I would have liked to use (like the ties to the railroad trope) I’m pretty happy with the final result hehe. Especially with some of those dialogues between the reader and Remus. I literally had to stop writing to take a breather more than once.

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passivenovember · 5 months

Text

thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.

Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--

So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.

And then they find each other.

Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.

It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"

"--Why answer the phone?"

Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"

"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"

"I don't like being impolite."

Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"

"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.

"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.

Steve can hear a smile.

Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."

"So what?"

"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."

Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"

"What? You?"

"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."

"So did you--"

"--Fell outta my dreams."

"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.

"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."

Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."

"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."

"Sure, you didn't."

Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."

"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."

Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"

"Ha-ha."

"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"

Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.

"Harrington, I need to see you again."

"Need is kind of dramatic."

"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."

"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"

"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."

Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"

"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"

"--God, you are feeling dramatic."

"When can I see you?"

"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"

"Not sure."

Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."

"Tonight. I'll make it rain."

Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."

"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."

"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.

Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"

"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"

"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"

"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"

The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"

"--Aren't gonna eat you out."

"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."

"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"

"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."

"What's wrong with--"

"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."

"What about a sleep over?"

"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"

"Or I come over to yours, yeah."

"But--"

"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."

"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.

Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."

"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."

"I'm gay."

"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"

"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.

So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"

"I never said that."

"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."

Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.

Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"

Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.

He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.

Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.

Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--

"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.

Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"

Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"

"Damn--"

"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"

"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."

Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.

"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.

And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"For what?"

"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."

"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.

"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."

"Great."

"You've got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."

That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--

It rains.

#harringrove #little fun thing to get me out of my writers block #and maybe sort of based on a real thing that happened to me recently #sort of #anyway!#bye!#billy hargrove #fluff #reconnecting

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saintslewis · 1 year

Text

“𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑”

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ - pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ - summary: first date with the world’s newest married couple!

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cursing, brand names, outfits descriptions, smau, typos.

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: aaannnnndddd we’re back! have quite a few wips so that took my time mainly lol. i truly love these two and i hope you guys do too 🥹. like i said, maybe i should make a schedule for this. hope you enjoy and let me know if you wanna be tagged 🤭.

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Tell me your thoughts guys!!!

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previous chapter

"what the fuck did we just do?" Nadia blurted out as she held the small but extremely expensive red bag in her shaking hand, her other hand over her mouth as she stared at it.

The man in question closed the car door to the backseats, making sure the two other shopping bags were secure. Climbing into the car, he looked at the frightened woman and desperately tried to hide his smile as she took small breaths. Eventually calming down with him typing on his phone, she reached into the deep red bag that read 'Cartier' and carefully took out the delicately wrapped boxes that held their respective wedding rings.

Walking into the luxurious store was a mission in itself as the newly married 'couple' had to pretend for the first time. With Lewis assuring her that it was usually empty during that specific time of day, Nadia tried to keep her cool together by entering the store she would only window shop from. Immediately when entering the private entrance, she could already feel the difference in the atmosphere, the quiet music through the hallways became a bit too overwhelming for her. What Nadia couldn't do was to understand what life she would be living from here on out, each step dragging the next as she watched the Harrods' security guards stand firm in their positions, guarding the gold elevator. Keeping within close proximity of each other, their arms would brush against each others from time to time and everytime she would glance at Lewis, he looked so unphased it was scary. It looked like he's been doing this for years.

As the two turned the corner and the jewellery store came into view, Nadia looked around at the other stores forming what seemed like a cul de sac within the store. The red and gold exterior of Cartier caught her eye and she and the man she was with gathered the workers and the customers attention. Giving a subtle nod and smile to both security guards standing on guard at the entrance, they opened the large Oakwood doors and a strong scent captivated her.

"Could I hold your hand?" Lewis asked quietly, holding his hand out for the younger woman to surprisingly grab onto in lightning speed. "My hands are really sweaty right now, I'm sorry." Nadia stressed. With their fingers intertwined and Lewis' cold rings managing to cool down her hand, he led into the shop where a sales associate was waiting patiently, gasping when she saw Lewis without his sunglasses and a woman standing next to him. Displaying a selling smile, the sales associate fixed her blazer and signaled to the security guards to close the doors.

"Mr Hamilton, what a pleasure to have you join us this afternoon. Greetings to the both of you. My name is Kim and I will be helping you today." Kim had said with a professional voice, leading them to her work desk near a counter showcasing diamonds and emeralds. "What brings you in today?" She asked, sitting on her desk chair and clearly directing the question towards Lewis. Before saying his words, Lewis knew that nothing he could say would be out these doors as the employees sign NDAs almost every week.

"Well, my wife couldn't find her ring at all for the past two weeks and rather decided to get a new one." He explained as he pulled out the chair for Nadia to sit before he did. The pure shock on the sales associate's face was borderline comedic, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor. "O-oh! Well, we definitely have a lovely range of wedding rings that would be suitable for the both of you, seeing as you guys are such a beautiful couple." Kim said with a shaky laugh, reaching to give them a look book for their purchase.

"I'll give you guys a couple of minutes to decide." And with that, the ever so young sales associate stood up from her assigned desk and left Nadia and Lewis to make their decision. Releasing a sigh she had kept in her from the moment they walked through the door, she looked at Lewis who just picked up the catalog and flipped through the pages.

"How are you so calm right now? My hands can't stop sweating, what the fuck." Nadia whisper-yelled, trying not to wipe her hands on anything near her whilst breathing through her nose. "I'm just used to this but it would've been nice if she wasn't so nervous." He shrugged his shoulders, leaning comfortably into the seat and his eyes scanning into the catalog. "Do you want to leave? Because we can. I really don't want you to be uncomfortable." Lewis suggested, placing his hand on her shoulder, somehow making her face him. Studying his face, she looked into his eyes as the sincerity poured out. He was worried, the fear literally showing through her but as she shifted her eyes to Kim who looked like she was coming over, a switch flipped in her.

Quickly grabbing the open catalog from the table, Nadia scanned the pages and landed on a ring that screamed at her with its luxury and simplicity. "Oh this is just stunning." She grinned, pointing at the picture of the ring. To say Lewis was surprised was an understatement but he could see what she was doing and it was smart. "It really is. Is this the one you want?" He asked, leaning close to her and noticed she didn't even move. Oh, she was really selling this.

"It's perfect." Nadia smiled so much so that her eyes closed.

"Wait so what do I say? Like happy 2 years or something?" Nadia asked, turning her body in the car seat to face Lewis. The two hadn't even put the rings on yet but they already were planning what to post on instagram.

"No clue. Did you choose what to post? Tia is bugging me about that." He said, sighing out for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Snapping her eyes at the man, he caught the look she sent him then clarified that she was his main pr manager. "I think I'll go with the flow when I choose the pictures." Awkwardly enough, Lewis and Nadia exchanged phone numbers and had to share a few photos with each other to have something to post for the world.

"You know, your dad mentioned that we should tell our friends before we tell the world." She said, slumping her head back into the surprisingly soft headrest. "Yeah. Uh my friends are in town so we could probably do something with them and announce it there." Lewis said, scratching at his hair out of nerves. He never was someone who got nervous often but this entire situation kept playing on his mind.

"Alright then. Home time?" He suggested, watching her nod before he even finished his sentence. He soon drove off with her address already on the car display, watching her as she admired the streets of London. They both knew this was going to be a long journey but it was worth helping each other out as their friendship began to bloom.

"Lewis?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you actually do for work? I feel like we've been talking about my job so much that I haven't taken the chance to know what you do. Y'know, besides shopping at Cartier so much that the workers recognise you." She asked, facing the car window and looking out as they passed through Central London. "Well um, I work in Formula One and it's been my..thing for the past 30 years." He revealed as he stopped at the red light, people from outside most definitely couldn't see inside the car even they tried.

"30? Oh my god, they had you working at 2?!" For this, Nadia sat up and looked at Lewis in astonishment, making him burst out laughing. "How old do you think I am?" He could barely get the question before giggling once again. "I thought you were at least 32. How are you older than 32?" Fully facing him now, Nadia couldn't believe what she was hearing because in her eyes, his features were very youthful (similar to hers but she didn't want to brag). "I'm 38, January 7th." Lewis said, giving her a closed smile.

Racking everything that she just learned about him, it all came back to her. Most Fridays when her students (whoever had History that time) would request to watch anything F1 related whilst she focused on something else or when the name 'Hamilton' was constantly thrown around between the last few minutes of classes almost every week. Even the 4 years she's been teaching at the same school, they would make a big deal every July before schools closed for the race in Silverstone and constantly cheer on the same British driver, Hamilton. Her new last name.

"Are you good? you went quiet on me for a second." Lewis glanced at Nadia as she had a slight pout on her face as she looked straight ahead, clearly her concentration face. "Just realised that most of my students adore you, borderline obsessed with you." She muttered but he heard her loud and clear. "And I don't know shit about you except that you drive super fast cars on weekends." She began clicking her nails as a way to distract her from her busy mind. "Okay, how about we go on a fake date after we tell the world about our marriage to get to know one another so we can understand our new lives now. Is that okay with you?" Lewis suggested and truly, Nadia's heart swelled a little.

"Can I dress up or will I be judged for that?"

"Anything you want."

The next day.

"Wait. I'm confused. Your PR lady wants to have a meeting with me when? After we launch? Because I'm gonna be really busy with my students tomorrow." Nadia was extremely stressed and rightfully so. After everything happened yesterday, it was time to worry about the logistics of this 'relationship.'

"Tia said she's around London now so maybe you two could meet at a café somewhere in case you're not uncomfortable with her being at your place but she preferred to do it before everything gets crazy." Lewis spoke over the phone. Nadia kept quiet for a few moments as she skimmed over a few facts about Lewis on her laptop. "Wait, you were knighted?" She asked, seeing the photo of Lewis with the badge she recognise as the one that knights usually get. "Are you looking me up right now?" The laugh threatened to come out as he slowed down on the treadmill. "What? I wouldn't." Nadia closed the laptop with speed as if he could see what she was doing.

"Uh huh... anyways, should I forward her number to you or should I make the call?" Lewis pretended as if the biggest smile didn't paint his face at that very moment. "Just send it to me and I'll probs invite her over. We'll talk later then." The two said their goodbyes and went back to whatever it was they were doing.

Placing her phone down next to her on the couch, she sat in silence as it all dawned on her. The man she is legally married to is one of the world's most famous athletes with millions and millions of supporters. Spending almost the whole morning researching anything she needed to know, her chest wanted to close in as she looked at everything from stats from his long ass F1 career to his businesses and social life and they didn't call him the busiest driver for nothing. Lewis never seemed like the type of person to relax and chill from the number of things he does in a day. From Fashion weeks to visiting labs for one of his many projects, it was going to be tough to adjust to his lifestyle whilst still being a full time high school teacher but she was willing to do so, to help a friend.

"Again, I'm so sorry for this sudden ambush on you. You're so lovely." Tia apologised once again, making Nadia hold her hand as she shook her head.

The dandelions that Tia brought over were sitting pretty in an empty vase on the living room table, making the room smell so fresh. Tia was definitely a few years younger than Nadia, shown by her enthusiastic energy as soon as she stepped into the apartment.

"So to just get to the gist of it all, you're entering the world of fame without knowing what exactly goes into it. You're gonna need a team, security intel, a refurbished social media look, probably a new bank account and a new address." Tia said, pulling out a notebook from her tote bag. "For now, I'll be your pr manager along with Lewis'. Please just know that this fake marriage idea was a collective decision by the rest of our team because of the scandals that have just been coming our way. I hope I'm not scaring you?"

"Girl, I'm scared as shit right now. What do you mean new address?" Nadia vocalised as her right leg bounced repeatedly. "So in order to make this believable, you'll have to move in with him and we've proposed that you say that you've been secretly married for 2 years. I know that you're going to meet with his friends soon and y'know that date? It has to be tonight because I know you have work tomorrow." Tia flipped her silk press over her shoulder as she placed her hands on the now closed notebook.

Nadia's jaw wanted to drop to the floor but she tried to seem calm as her eyes darted anywhere from Tia.

"So you and I can get ready for this date like we can go shopping, hair and nails then in the evening, he picks you up. How does that sound?" Tia smiled, already packing up her bag.

"Uh-"

"Perfect! Let's go."

"Breathe in and out, Nads. In and out." She quietly told herself as she paced up and down her room, the uncomfortable ysl heels clacked against the floor. Constantly checking if the little black dress wasn’t showing anything that didn’t need to shown.

The Cartier box sat perfectly on her dresser, staring at her and waiting to be opened. Eventually gaining the courage to open it, she gently picked up the ring and slid it onto her ring finger, feeling its weight slightly. Lifting her hand to the lamp, she watched as the diamond glistened, matching the charms and rhinestones on her fresh nails.

Even music couldn’t help her calm down as she anxiously waited for Lewis to say that he’s outside, palms becoming clammy at the thought of going on a ‘date’ with someone as famous as Lewis. The research she did on him was one similar to someone entering a fandom as she tried to remember basic information about her husband.

Walking over to her full length mirror, she scanned over her outfit once more and did quick breathing exercises to calm her down. She did a quick smile and walked out of her room, not forgetting her trusty fluffy slides in case she got tired of her heels.

Whilst taking a few pictures, the knock on her door startled her. Rushing to open up, she carried her new purse and touched her hair a little bit as she reached for the door handle.

The smell of roses mixed with the scent of Lewis’ cologne greeted first as the big bouquet of flowers blocked his face.

“Oh wow…” Nadia muttered as she reached to take the sunset orange roses out of his tattooed arms. Securely holding the bouquet, she looked up to observe the man and his look nearly took her breath away. The soft pastel colours of his sweater vest were matching quite well with the lilac slacks he had on, going casual with the air force ones and not to mention the jewellery that somehow emphasised the cozy yet fashionable style he was going for. It genuinely looked like he was going on a date and so did Nadia. His braids were tied back into a low ponytail and his diamond earrings sparkled quite nicely, the wedding ring he bought himself making an appearance as he lifted his hand to scratch his neck a little.

“Well good evening, Mrs.” Lewis greeted with the slyest smile on his face once he realised that Nadia was indeed checking him out. “Don’t give me that smile, Mr.” She rolled her eyes before turning around and placing the flowers in the kitchen. Seeing as she had everything she needed on her, she walked right back to the front door where he was patiently waiting for her. “Let me hold these for you.” He offered, opening his large hands to take her purse and slippers.

“You sure?”

“We’ve got quite a few flights of stairs to get through. Also, where are your neighbours? It seems like such a quiet building.” Lewis asked, curious as he looked at the closed doors they passed in the hallways towards the stairs.

“It’s mainly small families or students who just always mind their business and close themselves in by this time. It only really get noisy during sports weekends and spontaneous fights.” Nadia said, telling him a bit more about her odd neighbours as they eventually reached the same G wagon she saw yesterday.

He could listen to her talk about literally anything for hours, he told himself as he opened the car door for her, placing her stuff next to her. “Just so you know, there’s going to be some media where we’re headed, thanks to Tia so we just walk quickly whilst waving a little then we enter. Is that okay?” He asked, leaning against the open car door and his right arm caged her in a little. As much as she was distracted by how he was looking at her whilst standing like that, she nodded, somehow losing the voice that was there literally there a few minutes before.

“I have to compete with Nicki Minaj?!” She whisper-yelled as she leaned closer to him in the private booth that faced the rest of the restaurant. Already, the two had caused quite a stir as soon as they exited the car with the paparazzi rapidly throwing questions at each of them, barely giving them a chance to smile and wave as they planned. The security (both Lewis’ and the restaurants) helped them in and to the customers surprise, they entered in with confidence. Them holding hands really sold for everyone, the two waving to fans using their left hands before being escorted to the private booth.

“Well no you don’t have to anymore. It was just a…thing a few years ago.” Lewis said, taking a sip of his drink before leaning back against his chair. “But still! Like your fans literally know you with well known women so what are they even going to do with me?” Rightfully so, Nadia was stressed. This was a big commitment and already she was regretting it.

“I have a feeling that they will love you. As long as you aren’t a complete weirdo then they’ll most likely accept you. Well that’s what someone on Twitter said after hearing about a supposed fling I had with someone.” He assured. He seemed so calm about this and it freaked her out.

“Supposed?”

“Yup. Plus I’m now married to you so everything will swept up under a rug, y’know? Remove any bullshit rumours going on.” He said, sipping his drink once again.

“Again, how are you so calm about this, bruv? Feel like i’m sweating bullets here.” She breathed out, slightly fanning herself even though there was air conditioning in their booth.

“Is that who I am now? Bruv?” He asked, giggling as he looked at her amusingly.

“That is definitely your contact name. Oh! You have to meet my kids, that’s where I get it from.” Nadia spoke, taking a fry from her plate, the food the waiter brought over a while ago.

“Year 8?”

“Nope. Only Year 11 and 12. It was part of the ‘promotion’ but I only studied further to teach Year 8 so right now I’m winging it with my kids and it seems to be going pretty good. They’re excelling.” Nadia chatted, proudly talking about her students.

“You were meant to be a teacher, I swear. The glint in your eyes was so adorable when you spoke about them.” Lewis smiled, also eating his meal.

“Okay, don’t make me blush old man.” She scoffed with a little chuckle making Lewis laugh fully.

“Anyways, where am I gonna live? Tia was very adamant about me moving out to make it look super real.” Nadia changed the subject so quickly, as if it was lightning.

“My main residence is in Monaco but because of what I do, I tend to travel for two months at a time so I’ve got a few houses in another countries. So you can choose where you want to live really. Personally though, I can tell you love your job so this will be a bit tough for you but I get where she’s coming from.” Lewis informed, eating his pesto as if he didn’t just shake up her life a little.

“Oh. I’m gonna have to speak to my higher ups about this. Obvie, I won’t tell them the whole thing but can you give me a week to figure it out? Because it’s also salary that’s no longer gonna be there once I start travelling with you.” Nadia brought up, pinching her leg as thoughts raced through her mind.

“Sure, take as much time as you need because I get that this is a lot. I have a house near Wembley, that’s where I’ve been staying since I arrived so that’s my proposal to you.” He informed, watching her slowly eat her food.

“Well, there wasn’t a proposal to begin with, pookie bear.” Nadia joked, biting down on the fork as she giggled.

“That nickname, Nads.” Lewis giggled at her joke, knowing that she was going to be a joy to be around.

nadiahamilton

liked by randomstudent, tia.henderson and 538 others

nadiahamilton 2 years down, a lifetime to go 🤍

tagged: lewishamilton

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randomstudent MISS???? HELLOO???

user oh history is gonna be FUN tmr

lewishamilton my love 💗

nadiahamilton mwah!! 😚

user ma’am you’re joking????? WHAT

nella_rose yo, i leave for a bit and you’re married??? congrats babe omg 😭

user yo miss, what is a 8x world champion doing in your post?

nadiahamilton being my husband :)

randomuser whatever you manifested, GIVE IT

fanpage HE’S MARRIED

15 minutes ago

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, badgalriri and 10,828,929 others

lewishamilton forever and then some with you 🤍

tagged: nadiahamilton

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user NO FUCKING WAY

user well that’s one way to hard launch!

charles_leclerc 😧

lewishamilton 🤣

fencer congratulations on two years brother! 🩷

lewishamilton thank you bro 🫂

nadiahamilton it’s bruv to you 🤨

lewishamilton happy 2 years with my bruv 🫡

nadiahamilton much better 😚

user SHE’S HOT AND FUNNY???? WE’RE SO DOOMED

user and she’s not famous like at all

gigihadid where’s this beautiful woman you’ve been hiding????

nadiahamilton hello Gigi 🤭

gigihadid oh we’re so grabbing lunch soon

user wait so no one knew of her?? not even the drivers ???😭

landonorris MOM?

nadiahamilton hi son?

danielricciardo you don’t just hard launch on us on a random Sunday 😭

lewishamilton oh well, meet my wife! :)

user he really said no more rumours lol

user OMG THATS MY TEACHER HELLO?!

user WHAT

user YEAH THATS MY HISTORY TEACHER

mercedesamgf1 Mrs Mercedes? 🥹

mercedesamgf1 boss man says hi and congratulations! 🥳

fanpage noooo you can’t be married ☹️

user girl get a GRIP

badgalriri oh she’s SEXY

lewishamilton ri, pls don’t steal my wife

nadiahamilton TOO LATE

user the next media day is going to have a BLAST when he shows up 😭

10 minutes ago

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @tispys-blog @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting

(if your acc is blank, that means that tumblr didn’t allow me to tag you/show your account)

dividers by: @cafekitsune

nadia’s fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

all pic creds go to pinterest and insta!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #formula one x black reader #f1 x reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #formula one x reader #f1 x you #f1 x oc #f1 x black!reader #fake dating #f1 fic #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x black reader

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cazzyf1 · 5 months

Text

James Hunt with his budgie collection

An article about it under the cut

Last weekend, I found myself at the World Budgerigar Championships, held at Doncaster race course. My guide was James Hunt, world motor racing champion for the 1976 season and of late an ardent breeder of budgerigars: greens, grey- greens, sky blues, dominant pieds and the like. In return for carrying my share of his nine chosen birds in and out of the hall he would transport me from Flood Street to Doncaster and back again. We put our budgies under wraps in the Estate boot and drove north. As we drove, James ex- plained budgies, their infinite variety and perfections of type. Looking straight at a show budgie one should not be able to see the eyes; broad- ness of head is commendable, as is a steep lift to the plumage, a long straight back, sleek body and proud tail. The spots under the neck merit special attention. Usually there are six forming a broken ring but false spot feathers can emerge and these have to be tweezered out. Another area of concern is the head plumage, which can develop waxy quill feathers and blood specks.

Budgies moult in October. Doncaster, the most prestigious show of them all, is held annually in early November. It is therefore a race to bring them back into good condition. Ten days before James had visited a couple of top breeders and found their birds in a shocking state. He doubted that they would be ready in time. I commiserated with him on their behalf. We then moved on to the question of breeding. James only shows birds he has bred himself. His prize accolade so far is second place in the Beginner Breeder class at Blackpool, almost as big an event as the one we were heading for. Pairing takes place in late November, so he was absorbed with the permutations. After this season, his second in the budgie world, he intends to put it all on a computer prog- rammed by an acquaintance in the blood stock industry.

`It's like breeding racehorses, only cheaper,' he explained; 'a good budgie can sell for a thousand pounds, more to a German or Swede, not that I pay anything like that. The most so far is a hundred pounds.' James, like many self-made millionaires, is prouder of his caution about money than its possession. If he gets his pairings right this year, the basis will be laid for a first-class stud. Cock it up and he's back at square one.

The action takes place in his back garden, an acre and a half just off Wimbledon Common. As he travels heavily for the BBC during the motor racing season he has a curator, the correct word, of budgerigars. Indoor and outdoor flight pens give his birds the freedom and communion which he believes are essential to their development. Not all breeders agree, holding that show budgies are as far removed from their cousins who flock in the Australian out- back as those dying generations are to Yeat's artifice of hammered gold and gold enamelling. It was not a simile I tried on James as I wanted him to concentrate on the road.

`Under your feet are some supplies for the journey.' I had already heard the odd crackle and rustle. Sure enough, there were packets of crisps and chocolate, all now washed in a litre of orange juice that had spilt from its plastic bottle and in- formed the road map. I apologised for my ineptness, but there was worse to come. Throughout the journey, which was nearing completion in the Doncaster one-way system, James had fretted about his feather-pulling tweezers, hoping they were buried deep in a trouser pocket. This proved not to be the case. They had fallen between his seat and the doings of the German hydraulic system. His hand could not reach them with ease. I volunteered mine as being slimmer. He warned me that if the tweezers fell any further they would be unsalvageable, lost forever. In went my hand, down went the tweezers. 'That's very naughty, Napier. I told you to be careful and what do you do? Charge at it without any thought.' So my first task on reaching the Danum Hotel, Doncaster, was to ask the lady receptionist — still agog at matching her booking name of J.S.W. Hunt to the reality — for tweezers without which our budgies might as well stay in the boot. Thank God for Allens the all-night chemist and their range of broad-, slant-, and curved-headed tweezers at £1.29p a shot.

By the time I returned, James and the budgies were in my bathroom — smaller than his, so less problematic if one escaped. Two needed their heads washed free of quill wax and blood specks. A sky-blue cock had developed an extra spot feather. The tweezers were presented and found adequate. Deftly he probed to the base of the feather and pulled. Out it came and we both felt relieved. Washed and petted, the budgies, each in a black- enamelled portable showcase, looked their full importance. It was time for us to take them to the show where they would spend the night, be judged in the morning and thereafter open to public view.

A night on the town in Doncaster. In our second pub there was a fight. Three girls, about 18, fell to the ground, two tugging at hair while their friend inevitably paid the higher price for interfering. No one else made the same mistake. A pause for breath and acrimony, then back into the routine. The moment they decided that no man was worth such punishment the bouncers moved in and swept them out. Later in the evening we saw the three of them together enjoying a joke. The pub and club centre of Doncaster is small enough to walk round. We kept on seeing the same faces circling and finally asking for James's autograph with lines like 'I know who you are, at least my father does'. In London he barely incurs a glance. But at the night club, Rotters, we found our entrance barred by a further charm of bouncers. `Where do you come from, please, gentlemen? London? What, may I ask, are you doing in Doncaster?'

`We're up for the budgie show.' The door was flung open. Budgies are great levellers.

Next day, James admitted what I had already begun to suspect, that exhibiting budgies was far more exciting than winning a Grand Prix. 'After the first third of a race you usually know you can win, barring mechanical failure. With budgies the adre- nalin is there right up to the moment you walk in and see how you have done.' We walked in. Stretching the length of the Doncaster Race Hall were showcases in three tiered lines, nearly 6,000 entries in 392 classes. It took adrenalin-pumped minutes to find any class James had entered. The world became a clearer place, full of stewards in purple badges, men last seen in our hotel lift, now turned into awesome judges, serious punters in cloth caps with a jaunty budgie feather. The floor was covered in brown seed, scuffed by the birds out of their cages. We passed the cages of successful champions, surrounded by plush velvet boards and trios with red, blue and green rosettes on them and sometimes extra awards from provincial bodies affiliated to the Budgerigar Society. We passed classes with names like 'Recessive Pied Breeder Hens' and swatches of colour the like of which Scott Crolla only dreams. We overheard snatches of conversation: `That's a big bird, champion,' Not enough feather on the little blighter,' and men rattling bars to get the birds onto their perches for a better look or photograph.

At the far left of the hall we reached the Beginner Breeder section and the end of our quest was bitter disappointment. A fourth, a fifth, and two sixth places. Not one rosette to show for it all, let alone the Best Beginner Breeder trophy that had seemed possible.

`Bad luck, James, it's a bloody high- standard show. Nice looking birds, I must say. Wouldn't swop your one for anything but the winner.'

The commiserations in broad and know- ledgeable Yorkshire were far more effective than my plaintive twittering. James took his disappointment well: 'It's all good experience. I now know how good one's birds have to be, so good that there's no dispute.'

`So you'll be coming back then, James?'

`Certainly.'

#so wholesome what he got up to after racing #classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #james hunt

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ghost-n-butteredtoast · 1 year

Note

Can you write fem reader x mother Miranda smut

Me: I SURE CAN.

Also me: This might get a bit ... gory.

And though this may not contain as much Mother Miranda as you might have liked, I hope you enjoy it.

So with that... 18+, smut, gore, blood material below.

(Also posted on AO3 - Click here)

Your God Can't Hear You Now

You had prayed to your God until you had fallen asleep, still kneeling at the side of the bed. Your husband's side of the bed, empty. Not that you cared. The nights you slept alone were a blessing. Still, there was much on your mind and a crippling weight on your heart. Feelings that nearly ripped your insides to shreds; the guilt clawing at you constantly.

You did not love your husband. Nor did he love you. You shared gold bands on your ring fingers, last names, and a bed, but it meant nothing. He lusted after another woman in the village.

...and so did you.

Your husband hated that you refused to worship the Black God, that you did not bow before Mother Miranda and her four lords. He was embarrassed to be seen with you in the village and he despised the looks he received while in church.

"Mother Miranda is a healer, a miracle worker!"

"She is not my God." You whispered.

He shook his head. "You are a disgrace," he said before slamming the door, leaving you to go drown his disappointment in ale at the tavern.

As the clock struck midnight, you woke with a start, its chimes ringing just loud enough to stir you from your position on the floor. Your legs and back ached from kneeling, and you pushed yourself up from the floor and paused.

A rapping sound?

With an oil lamp in hand, you crept to the front room to look out a window, pulling the curtain aside to see who had come calling at this hour. For a moment, you worried. Had your husband had some sort of accident and someone had been sent to inform you? The moon provided just enough light to allow your eyes to make out the form standing at the front door.

It was a woman. You unlocked the door and opened it a crack, your lamp illuminating the stranger's face. Yet it was not a stranger. There, standing before you, was the woman you had secretly pined for.

Izabela.

Her family had a produce stand at the market. It was there you had first laid eyes on her, selling produce. Cautiously you circled the stand, discreetly watching her as you pretended to shop. Your knees grew weak when she smiled at you, thanking you for your purchase. Every day the stand was open, you went back, not for another parsnip, not for a bundle of carrots; only for her smile, and for that you would pay a hefty sum of lei to see.

"Forgive me for intruding," the woman's voice shook. She looked over her shoulder quickly, then back to you. "May I seek shelter here?" She begged.

From somewhere in the village you both heard a howl. It was hard to tell where the sound was coming from exactly. You pulled the woman inside and shut the door quickly, bolting it several times.

"Lycans?" You whispered, moving swiftly to the window to peer into the street.

"I'm not sure." The woman's voice was now calmer. "I saw your light on, it was the only light on in the street. My father's beloved dog bolted from the house and into the night. I gave chase through the streets and lost her near the cemetery." She said, a visible shiver coursing through her. "It was there I heard the first howl, and I turned back."

"You're safe here." You said placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come away from the door. I'll put the kettle on."

You were able to calm her over a cup of tea. It was now 2:00 am. If your husband was coming home, he would have been here by now. You showed Izabela to the spare room and wished her a good night. Once in your room, you shut and leaned up against the door. You could not believe the woman you had been yearning for was in your home right across the hall. For the past two hours, you had conversed in your small kitchen. The sound of her voice, her smile, her face in the dim light of the oil lamp; everything about her made your heart race and it was only now you felt like you could breathe.

Slowly, you made your way over to your bedside, placing the oil lamp on the table, turning down the wick, and blowing out the flame. As you pushed back the covers you heard the door click. Your mouth went dry when you saw her standing in the doorway. Izabela's long, wavy hair cascaded down her back, the moonlight shining through the window illuminated her white gown.

You swallowed hard. "Is there - there something you need?"

She smiled and came closer to you, gently shaking her head, each step with more and more purpose. "I've seen how you look at me. At the market?"

Your eyes grew wide.

"Always in the market, but never with your husband."

"He-he has other things to tend to-,"

"Such as...church? He is quite devout, isn't he? But I never see you attend."

You shook your head. "One does not need to set foot in a church to worship." Your hand shot up to the pendant that hung around your neck. Thankfully it was hidden beneath the collar of your gown. "Where one chooses to worship should not matter. God is everywhere."

Izebel tilted her head, considering your words with a low hum. She was so calm and it made your skin prickle. The speed at which her hand grabbed the one upon your chest was shocking. Had you not been backed up against the foot of your bed you surely would have fallen to the ground.

She removed your hand from the pendant around your neck, its gold engravings catching the light of the nearby lantern.

"God," she said almost mechanically. "And this God of yours," she asked, her fingers playing with the pendant, "What does your God think of a woman...a married woman at that... yearning for...the fairer sex?"

Her last words escaped her lips in a near whisper, dangerously close to your own. Air broke free from your lungs in small pants as your eyes began to water, unblinking, from staring into her icy blues.

"I don't-I,-"

Her grip on the pendant tightened and she yanked, the chain snapping and left to dangle in her clutches. You didn't even have a chance to object let alone gasp.

Izabel chucked the necklace across the room and you could hear it slide across the wood floor and disappear into the darkness. "Tonight, there is no God to worship." She said, her hand coming back to your chest as she pressed against you. "Allow me to show you how to properly worship a divine being."

The hand on your chest made haste at unbuttoning your gown. At first, you protested, your mind was scrambling to keep up with the woman before you. Her fingers came back to your shoulders and slid the gown from your body, leaving it to pool around your feet. Izabel's tongue, sweet from the honey she had put in her tea, slipped into your mouth, prodding at the muscle within to respond. You were too stunned to move, eyes locked on her icy blue orbs. It was only when you closed your eyes, that you felt her smile into the kiss, a sinister moan escaping her lips.

She shoved you onto the bed, knocking the wind out of your lungs and giving you no time to respond to her nails that clawed at your hips as they removed your underwear. And not that you wanted to object; the woman you had secretly craved was now between your legs, nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

But this was wrong and it was happening so fast. Your mind was clouded with lust but your gut was cramped with worry and guilt. Your husband could walk in at any moment. You may not love him, and he was indeed having relations with another woman in the village, but he was a man, he was your husband. You must obey him; respect him.

You looked down at the woman who was now on her knees and caressing your calves. She returned your gaze as if she were waiting for you to object. When no objection came, she immediately pulled you to the edge of the bed with a strength you did not expect and went to work pleasuring you.

The gasp that escaped your lips turned to sinful moans that clawed their way up your throat as your hands gripped the sheets. Izabel wasted no time, latching on to your swollen bud, sucking and moaning while she sunk her nails into your hips. They were unusually sharp, and you hissed when they made contact, your hands shooting to hers to pry them from your body.

Her grasp relaxed, and slowly her hands trailed down your body. You panted and whined as she rose above your womb, her fingers finding you and taking the place of her tongue, sliding through your wet folds, her other hand coming to rest beside you on the bed to keep her balance.

"Mmm," she licked her lips, her mouth and chin glistening with your arousal, "are you this wet when you are in the market, watching me, yearning for me?"

Your eyes went wide as her hand stilled and she stared at you, waiting for an answer.

"I, mmmfuh" was all you were able to eke out as she plunged two fingers inside your warmth.

"Perhaps if you attended church, you'd see me more often." Her tone was perplexing; a mixture of arousal and disdain. She looked down at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, her breath steady yet her hand sped up. "Soaking through your dress, staining the pews with your desire...could you imagine?"

Feeling your velvet walls begin to close in on her wicked fingers, she pulled out. You screwed your eyes shut and nearly screamed at the loss, but it caught in your throat. She cocked her head and watched you with great fascination. Your body was a limp mess on the bed, glistening with perspiration and quivering with the occasional tremble.

Suddenly, your voice cracked and rasped out a plea. "Please, Izabel. Ple-," you begged as tears of frustration welled in your eyes.

"Begging, are we?" She whispered. Izabel shifted and leaned forward, placing a hand over your frantic heart. "Perhaps you should pray to Mother Miranda for relief."

"Wha-,"

Your eyes opened and locked with hers. Was she serious? Or was this part of her game?

"You heard me. Pray. Beg." Her fingertips pressed into your chest. She lowered herself back between your legs, her icy blue eyes never leaving yours for a moment. As her lips hovered over your throbbing core, she whispered, her hot breath mixing with your warmth, "Pray, girl."

You racked your brain for a moment, sputtering out a few words as you tried to remember the prayers from all those years ago; the prayer your parents made you memorize in hopes of keeping you safe from the monsters that ruled over the village, from the beasts that lurked in the woods and attacked without warning. The prayer your husband made you recite on your wedding day. Oh how the words on your tongue burned, but so did you with an all-consuming desire for this woman.

"Great ones, h-hear our voice, together as one in reverence. We call on thee, ahhh-"

Izabel's tongue shot into your dripping core, exiting, flattening, and slowly trailing up to your clit. Her arm was still stretched across your torso, her fingertips continuing to prod at the tender flesh of your chest.

"...within the endless da-ahhrk to-to-to deliver us into fate's hands."

Her free hand found your pulsing clit, and her tongue returned to your opening, darting in for a taste.

At this point, your chest was heaving and you were gasping for air. Finishing this prayer would be a miracle in itself. She was stealing every bit of focus you had to give, and if you didn't come, you might literally crumble. This woman wanted to wreck you, but you were not sure why she chose to be so malicious about it. She had seemed so pure and kind in the marketplace. But now, now it felt like the devil was between your thighs, and if the devil was a woman, you would gladly go through the gates of hell to burn with her for eternity.

Her touch and her tongue were relentless and your mind was melting, forgetting the words as all you could concentrate on was your climax.

Your volume increased and your speech sped up. "As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice and await the light at the end. In life-" you swallowed hard and tore at the sheets below as your orgasm approached, the words were stuck, "I-I-in life!..."

"Finish!" She commanded loudly, barely breaking away from your core.

You came before you could complete the prayer, and as you did, a searing pain joined your ecstasy. The gut-churning sound of tearing flesh and crunching of bone picked up where your last gasp for air had left off as the hand on your chest plunged through your thoracic cavity. Blood filled your mouth as your primitive brain kicked in, your body flooding with a numbing panic in the seconds of consciousness you had remaining.

The taloned hand that literally gripped your heart pulled you into an upright position, just long enough for you to see the woman you had loved from afar, dissipate and morph into the black-winged priestess herself. She glared at you through her gold mask, her icy blue eyes, the same ones you thought had been Izabel's, burned into yours. You sputtered and choked as blood exploded from between your lips, running down your chin and chest, back into the gaping cavity below. As your body went limp, Miranda chuckled darkly, her hand pulling out of your chest, leaving you to fall back to the mattress.

She brought the failing organ to her lips, her tongue running over the warm muscle as your blood ran down her arms and into her robe. Turning back to you, she observed the blood seeping into the sheets beneath you.

“Just as I thought,” she snarled, squeezing your heart and letting it fall to the floor with a sickening splat, “an unfit vessel for Eva.”

#fanfics #fanfic request #resident evil 8 #re8 mother miranda #mother miranda #re8 village #re8 fandom #mother miranda x reader

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flowersandbigteeth · 2 years

Text

Your minotaur neighbor gives you some produce

General Plot: Your minotaur neighbor gives you some produce as an apology and defends you from bad actors!

Minotaur farmer (Tyrnas) x flower nymph reader

Word Count: 3k

W: sfw monster fluff, implied minor character death, injury, yandere behavior

Fluff Masterpost

Tip Jar

“Good Morning (Y/N),” the vegetable seller Tyrnas said as he set up his stand next to yours.

“Good Morning Tyrnas,” you replied shyly as you placed flowers on your own stand.

You both looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before looking away.

Tyrnas was a handsome minotaur with fluffy black hair that fell in his brown eyes and long dark horns that were a bit paler at the tips. His chest was broad and he wore a gold ring in his nose that you’d always wanted to give a little tug.

“Fine day today,” he mumbled, scratching his neck.

“It is,” you agreed, lifting a barrel of daisies.

“Oh! Let me get that for you!” he said suddenly, leaping at you.

You squealed and turned awkwardly on your heel at his sudden nearness, falling back into the dirt and dumping the water from the barrel all over your chest. Tyrnas slipped in the now muddy mess and all eight feet of him came tumbling down on you. Gasping, you found yourself face to face with his chiseled pectorals as he caught himself just before smashing you to jam.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, plucking the barrel out of your hand and pulling you up from the mud.

“Oh goddess,” he groaned, “I've gotten you filthy and ruined your flowers.”

Daisies were strewn everywhere in the mud, useless.

You hardly noticed because your cheeks were fiery red as he held you to him in his big hands.

“It’s fine,” you squeaked and he dropped you.

“S-sorry,” he said again and hurried back to his stand, returning with an armful of produce, “here take this.”

He thrust it at you and you had no choice but to accept the odd array of vegetables.

“Uh…thanks,” you said, arranging them behind your stand and glancing over your shoulder to make sure he didn’t have any other unexpected attacks planned.

He was just watching you, his eyes focused on your bottom. You blushed deeply, hurrying to gather the rest of the flowers for your display. You spent the day trying not to glance at your handsome market neighbor.

He was incredibly popular with the village, being gentle and kind and you were envious of the customers getting his attention. Trying to keep your mind focused on your own business of selling flowers, you didn’t notice the pest approaching you.

“Afternoon (Y/N),” a wiry fairy loomed over you. He was tall and lean with mostly gold teeth in his mouth. Unlike most fairies, who hid their wings when they weren’t flying, his smoky black wings were on display, clouding the air with a dark haze.

“Eh, greetings Ukel,” you said to the fire fairy.

He frowned at your dirty dress.

“I’ve told you if you chose me I’d buy you proper dresses,” he sneered, giving you an oily smile, “you’re always wearing rags. It’s a pity because you’re so pretty.”

“It’s just dirty,” you snapped, trying to brush some of the dried mud away, “there’s nothing wrong with it.”

He snorted.

“That’s something a poor person would say,” he laughed.

“Yes, we all know you’re very rich, Ukel,” you snarled back, propping your fists on your hips and glaring at him.

The snotty fairy traded in poached furs, bribing the authorities to keep them off of his back, and flaunted his ill gotten gains all around town.

He leaned into you so you could smell his sour breath.

“You know you’re very weak to be giving me attitude, little nymph,” he spat.

“Well if you don’t like it, move along,” you hissed back.

He looked incensed that you would dare disrespect him and raised his hand to smack you, but it never met your cheek.

Tyrnas stood over the much smaller fairy, holding his wrist.

The fairy, growling at him raised the temperature of his skin, trying to assert his dominance. You watched in horror as Tyrnas’ hand smoldered but he didn’t let go.

“Stop! Stop it!” you said, trying to push the two of them apart.

“Back off, cow,” Ukel snarled.

“You back off, fly,” Tyrnas growled back.

“Not in the market, boys,” the village guard, a strapping orc broke in, tapping Ukel with his spear.

The fairy snapped out of his vengeful trance as the minotaur released his hand.

“Move along, sir,” the guard said, “the lady is trying to do business.”

He snarled but flicked Tyrnas off before marching into the crowd. The guard gave you a small smile before he too drifted off to do his job.

“You’re hurt!” you wailed, pulling Tyrnas’ big hand into your two smaller ones, “how could he do that to you?”

“It’s nothing the doctor can’t fix,” he chuckled through his wince, but you could tell he was in pain. What skin wasn’t red and blistered was charred and blackened.

“Come on!” you said, hurriedly throwing tarps over both your stands. You grabbed his opposite hand and tugged across the market to the physician.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he assured you, “I’ll be fine.”

You rolled your eyes at him as he let you tug him along, anyway.

–

“Please stop hovering, miss, or I will have to ask you to wait outside,” the doctor snipped at you as she applied potions and salves to Tyrnas’ hand.

“Sorry! Sorry!” you apologized, taking a few steps back, but still craning your neck to see over her shoulder.

His hand looked so bad, you weren’t sure how he would be able to use it again.

“Now keep applying this every night and it will be as good as new in a few days,” she said as she bandaged it up.

“Let me cover the medicines,” you said, hurrying over and pulling out your coin purse, “this was all my fault.”

“I can’t let you do that,” he insisted, trying to pull out his own wallet, but accidentally using his dominant hand leaving him wincing.

“Ah!” he groaned and you dumped coins into the doctor’s hands in victory.

Too late, he frowned at you.

“Well, I won't let you think this was your fault, you did nothing wrong,” he said sincerely as you walked out of the office together.

Smelling smoke, which was odd, you glanced up to find a number of Fairyfolk grabbing buckets and running across the market. You rushed over, only to find it was your stall that was burning and starting to catch the roof of the building over it on fire.

Water fairies finally arrived, putting out the blaze before it could get any bigger, but your cart and all your stock were ash.

Tyrnas snorted, clenching his fists through the pain.

“How could this have happened?” you gasped, “we were only gone for a few minutes!”

“I know exactly how it happened,” he growled to himself before glancing down at you.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home alone,” he said.

You blinked up at him.

“You think someone did this on purpose?” you asked, “I mean why? I’ve never done anything to anybody.”

He blinked at you as if you were missing something obvious. He went to try to pack up his stand, but it was hard to do with only one hand. You helped him fold up the tarp and put his empty barrels back on his cart.

“You’re going to stay at mine until this is all sorted out,” he said as he scooped you up with one arm and deposited you on the passenger side of his cart.

“Do you think that’s really necessary?” you asked.

He nodded and got a very serious look on his face.

“We’ll stop by your house to get some things,” he said, “but I’m not leaving you there alone.”

Your flower farm was just across a small river and stone bridge from his vegetable farm. You had no idea how many times Tyrnas had taken a break from working in his field to gaze across the river at you working in yours. You were the prettiest flower in the whole garden as far as he was concerned.

The two of you paused at your house to give you a chance to get some clothes and do a few little chores that had to be done daily around the farm, before he took you back to his. You could see your house from his side of the river, so it wasn’t like you were that far away. It was close enough to walk back if you had to.

He fed you salad and a mushroom pot pie that was delicious and you insisted on washing the dishes. At first he absolutely would not let you but he finally gave in when he tried to do them without getting his bandaged hand wet.

It was incredibly cozy in his warm house. He had comfortable, large furniture for his massive stature that swallowed you up. The only artwork he had oddly, were framed pressed flowers.

You pulled out some knitting and he read a book while you sat companionably in front of the fire. It was so painfully domestic you almost cried because you weren’t his wife and didn’t do this every night.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because you awoke in a large bed. It had started to rain outside, hard, the sound of it a steady roll on the roof. Lightning flashed making you jump. You blinked in the darkness and climbed out of the bed. It must have been sometime in the middle of the night. You made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Creeping through the dark house on your tiptoes so as not to wake Tyrnas who must have been asleep in his room, you carefully rifled through his cabinets looking for a cup.

Finding one you poured yourself half a glass and started to return to your room when you heard something at the door.

It swung open and as the lightning flashed Tyrnas’ silhouette loomed in the doorway. Startled, you dropped the clay cup, sending water and shards of ceramic everywhere.

“Don’t move,” he said, hurrying into the room and scooping you up. He didn’t smell like himself, more like mud and blood. In the dim room you could only see dark stains splattered on his white shirt.

“What were you doing outside?” you asked as he deposited you on the counter and lit a lamp.

As he moved in the flickering shadows looking for a broom, you realized the stains on his shirt were deep crimson red.

“Is that blood?” you gasped, “are you hurt?”

He didn't look at you as he swept up the shards of the cup.

“I’m fine,” he answered.

“Then who’s blood is that?” you asked.

He looked up but not at you.

“There was a coyote that’s been pestering me for months and I finally caught him,” he said.

“In the middle of the night?!” you prodded.

He shrugged and dumped the shards in the trash.

“You have to take every opportunity when it comes to these things,” he said and you noticed his bandage was loose and covered in mud and blood.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It's pouring down raining outside! Don’t tell me you buried it yourself, injured. You can afford to lose a few chickens, not your hand!”

He glanced at you with a face full of guilt. You sighed.

“Go get the salve the doctor gave you and come here and let me fix it before you get an infection,” you said, reaching out your hands for his.

He looked at you for a long time before he cocked his head, smiling gently and did as you asked, standing next to you on the counter as you reapplied the salve and wrapped a fresh bandage on it.

You looked up at him and held him in a tender gaze as you held his hand in yours. You were finished with the bandage, but you didn’t let it go.

“Don’t do that, again, okay?” you asked, “take better care of yourself. For me? I could have helped you bury the body in the morning.”

His eyes widened slightly and he scratched his neck.

“Mmm,” he grunted noncommittally and swept you up in his good arm.

“I shouldn’t have woken you up,” he said, “let’s get you back to bed.”

“Make sure you take a bath, but don’t get your bandage wet,” you said softly, rubbing your sleepy eyes, cozy next to his warm chest, even though he was slightly damp, “then go straight to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled as he tucked you into your blankets, amused with your fussing.

“Sweet dreams, little flower,” he said and gave you a kiss on the forehead that made your skin tingle.

You fell asleep smiling with a warm heart.

–

“Have either of you seen this fairy?” the orc guard at the market asked you a few days later.

You’d gone back to sleeping at your own house as Tyrnas assured you it was safe. You weren’t sure what had changed, but you’d agreed to go to his house in the first place because you liked him, not because you seriously thought there was a threat, so you didn’t give it much thought.

He’d offered to share his stand with you at the market until you got a new one, so you were standing next to him as the orc waved the rendered image of Ukel in front of your face.

You twisted your lip and shook your head.

“You know I haven’t seen him recently,” you said, realizing it was true. Usually he came to bother you at your stand at least a few times a week, but in the past week you hadn’t seen him at all.

The guard, whose name was Zavi, rolled up the notice and smiled at you.

“Well good riddance if you ask me,” he confided, “that guy was nothing but trouble. He probably just skipped town because he owed somebody money or something. Rumor is he was in debt from gambling. But…they make me go around asking everybody anyway. It’s such a waste of time. ‘Course it’s always nice to talk to you (Y/N).”

He smiled and took a step closer, putting his big hand on the counter and leaning in.

“Would you wanna meet me at the festival next week?” he asked, making you blush and your eyebrows go up.

“Um…” you said.

“(Y/N) is busy,” Tyrnas said, sliding you gingerly behind him.

“What are you, her dad, Tyrnas?” he snorted.

“No, I’m her fiance and she’s going with me,” he snarled.

“You are?!” you exclaimed, staring up at him, “I am?!”

You rarely ever saw him cross with anyone, so him snorting and posturing over you, declaring you his, was a surprise to say the least.

“Yes,” he snapped and you jumped.

He blushed and held up his hands.

“Sorry! I mean…I’m sorry…Goddess,” he rubbed his eyes, “I did not mean for it to come out that way…I wanted it to be…I mean…I didn’t even bring the ring…”

You gave him a little smile.

“It’s okay,” you said, taking his hand and fingering his fingers, “I mean…I don’t mind…It was kind of…cute.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Zavi jeered, “that was the worst line I’ve ever heard, (Y/N). You’re seriously going to fall for that?”

You glared at him.

“Get lost Zavi! You’re ruining the moment,” you snipped and he rolled his eyes with a big sigh and found somewhere else to be, muttering to himself about “broads”.

“So you really want to be with me?” he asked, his eyes practically glowing.

You nodded shyly, your cheeks burning. He leaned down and scooped you up, pulling you to eye level before he kissed you, his bandaged hand cupping your jaw. Drawing in his grassy musk, you sighed into his mouth.

His kiss was heavy and warm, but a bit hesitant, as if he didn’t quite believe you. You nibbled at his bottom lip and slipped your tongue into his mouth to show him just how much you really did want him.

He tasted fresh and green, making you eager to explore. His arm under your bottom flexed and tightened, pulling you closer.

“Um…can I buy some vegetables…or…should I come back?” someone asked and you both looked down to find a wirey goblin holding a shopping basket waiting for service.

Tyrnas glared at him but you giggled, your cheeks red.

“Sorry, sure, we can help you,” you stammered and he was forced to put you down to take the goblin’s order and resume the business of selling produce.

Tag: @southernbluebellereader

#minotaur x reader #minotaur #monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #x reader #monster fluff #yandere fluff #yandere male

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deuxcherise · 4 months

Text

Collar Crimes: All Bark, No Bite (1/2)

A/n: So a long time ago, before reader met Eris, reader met a certain dog~ Hint, hint: she was mentioned in the last chapter (can I call it a chapter? It was in part 2). It’s not the bartender, by the way. So this is going to be a two parter because it got too long. Huh… Is it just me or are these getting longer and longer? Even the animal is getting bigger lol. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2) (you’re here!), Part 3 (2/2)

[Seven years ago…]

“Hiiiii~ Welcome to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guest. We’re so happy-happy to see you~”

“Oh, what do we have here? I heard a lot of great things about you. Come give Papa a big ol’ smile, why don’t cha?”

You keep your ever present resting blank face on, place your index fingers together in front of your mouth and drag them apart in an upward curve. You throw in a tilt of your head, as a bonus.

He throws his head back in ecstasy. “AHHH! So it’s true what they say. I feel so refreshed. Papa’s got an appetite for some sandwiches… unless you’re on the menu today?”

“Oh my~ You flatter me~ But unfortunately, nooooo sir~” you say with a high-pitched cutesy voice that heavily contrasts your stiff-robot face, fanning yourself for show.

You’ve always hated these kinds of customers– actually you really hated this job in general. Not only were you forced to wear a ridiculously, scandalously short pink waitress dress uniform regardless of your gender, but you had to listen to yourself talk with an ear-gratingly high-pitched tone because that’s what sells the performance here.

It’s not like you can just leave, as much as you wanted to. Where else would they pay you enough to make rent? Besides, with who runs this cafe, do you think you’d be able to leave scot-free? No.

Ah… if only someone with a lot of money could just… sweep you off your feet. Someone kind. Someone considerate. Someone polite.

Pff. Like that’s ever going to happen.

You take his usual order on your paper notepad. As you leave, you feel something heavy slap against your behind, the action sending a jolt through the rest of your body. You glance behind you and see him don a sleazy smirk, which further adds to your disgust and increasing resentment for this place and this man, as you pick up the pace to hand over the order to the chef. You slam the paper down onto the counter with a little more force than expected, warranting Remy’s attention.

“Which table?” he nonchalantly asks, cracking a couple of eggs onto the pan.

Somehow, despite wearing the same outfit as you, he maintains an extremely powerful look with his exposed bulging muscles and trimmed beard held by his hairnet. You envy the man.

“Table 13,” you grumble.

“Special sauce?”

“Special sauce.”

“Got it.”

The bell rings and in comes a trio of brothers in fancy suits, three of your most loyal customers, along with an unfamiliar face. Upon their request, the hostess leads them to a table in your section. You grab four menus before walking over and greeting them as usual.

“Hiiiii~ Welcome back to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guests. We’re so happy-happy to see you~” you say, with your iconic blank face.

The three men roar with delight. The lady with them, wearing the same kind of suit, simply pinches and pulls at her sleeve as she keeps her face downcast. One of the brothers turns to the lady with them while pointing at you. “Hey, Sis. Whatcha think of (Y/n), huh? That straight face and cute voice– combo’s real nice, ain’t it?”

“O-oh… um…” The woman makes eye contact with you for a split second before she looks away, a blush appearing on her face. She nods animatedly, releasing another roar from the men, much to your confusion.

“Oh right! (Y/n). You already know the three of us: Dante, Vergil and Nero. This,” Dante says, placing an arm around the lady’s shoulders, “is our baby sister, Lyn. She may look shy right now, but put a weapon in her hand and–” He whistles before chuckling.

“Ah. Happy-happy to have you, Lyn~” you say, cutely wiggling your fingers.

“... T-thank you… (Y/n).”

“Good girl,” one of the brothers sitting across pats her on the head. She reminds you of a golden retriever, with her blond hair and gentle, round eyes.

“Yay~ Now, what will it be today~?” you ask, clicking your pen.

They order some sandwiches and some drinks. You place the order in exchange for picking up the order for that sleazy customer who calls himself Papa. You and Remy exchange knowing looks before you deliver the food.

“Oooh. This looks delicious. Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, before your arm is grabbed by a meaty hand. You turn your head around to see the man grinning at you maliciously.

“Now, wait a gosh darn second. I heard that this establishment offers a… special service. Now… you aren’t holding off on me, are ya?”

You rip your arm out of his grasp, used to being grabbed by unscrupulous individuals like this man. You answer, “Oh~ The special service~ Sorry, hon~ That’s a privilege only reserved for customers who have dined here more than ten times~ Since you’ve come here once, that means you’ll have to come back nine more times.”

The special service in question refers to asking any server to sing the cafe’s jingle and perform a cutesy dance for the customer asking. Everyone who works here must learn this song and dance before they can be placed on the floor. Each server adds their own twist to it, of course, thus providing a unique experience.

The man slams a fist on the table and stands up, his face red with anger. “WHAT? I CANCELLED AN IMPORTANT MEETING FOR THIS. NOW IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME THE SPECIAL SERVICE, I AM GOING TO–”

Click!

Both your heads turn to the side to discover Lyn pointing a loaded revolver with one hand just a feet away, aimed directly for the man’s skull. Her eyes are sharp and narrowed, unlike the gentle, round ones you were introduced to earlier.

She raises her eyebrows. “Is there a problem here, sir?”

“D-do… do you know who you’re pointing that gun at, lady?” the man stutters, sweating beading up on his forehead.

Lyn shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“O-of course it does! Shoot me and you’ll have the West Razors going after you and your entire family.”

She raises an eyebrow. “... Never heard of them before.”

“What? Who are you then, huh bitch? Some don’s lady?”

She scoffs to the side. Her eyes widen, pupils contracting, as she cocked her head with a smirk. “Lyn Aurem-Diavolus. Of the May Devils.”

The man gasps and immediately lowers his knees, Lyn’s gun following. The man clasps his hands together in a prayer as he begs for his life. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know! Please forgive me! I didn’t know this server was your lover!”

…Who? Is what now?

Lyn’s eyes soften back to their round shape, her face darkening to a red hue as she stutters, “E-eh?”

“That’s right!” Dante pipes up with a smirk, coming behind Lyn, followed by the other two brothers. “Mess with (Y/n) again, and we’ll send you straight down to hell, capisce?” He gives the man a thumbs down with a frown. “Now scram.”who want to get on the bad side of the May Devils. The less competition, the better anyway.

Lyn replaces the safety lock before she puts it back into a hidden holster. She bashfully asks you, “Are you okay… (Y/n)?”

You nod and give a thumbs up. “Yeah. Thank you, Lyn~”

“N-no, well I mean yes, that too. But what I meant was–”

“Ooh, free sandwiches,” says Dante. “Don’t mind if I do–”

You throw a hand out. “No, wait!”

-----🔔-----

Ever since the brothers introduced you to Lyn, she has been visiting the cafe every day you’re scheduled to work for months now. Sometimes she comes with the brothers, sometimes by herself if they’re too busy dealing with… probably mafia stuff.

“Hiiiii~ Welcome to Petal Blush Cafe, dear guest. We’re so happy-happy to see you~”

“H-hi… (Y/n).”

At this point, there is no need to provide her with a menu anymore. She always orders a peanut butter milkshake and a plate of chocolate cake. Somehow, aside from the extreme sweet tooth she possesses, you always feel weird about giving her the chocolate cake. She’s definitely human but… she really does remind you of a very shy golden retriever… with perhaps a German shepherd side to her.

“Okay~ Here is your milkshake and your cake. Will there be anything else you’d like today, Lyn-Lyn~?”

You expect her to say no as per usual, but this time it seems she has something on her mind. Based on the way her face has turned red and her eyes look like they’re panicking.

“O-oh! U-um… (Y/n)?”

“Yes, Lyn-Lyn?”

“Do you… what time do you get off work? D-do you have time after work?”

That catches you off guard. “Why~?”

“UH… UM… I… I-I have something… to tell you! Come meet me behind the cafe.”

“Oh… kay. Okay~” you answer.

-----🔔-----

“Alright. Good job, everyone! Have a safe trip going home!”

“Yeah!” “Thank you! “Yes!” “Uh-huh.” “See ya!”

The day has ended and all of the customers have left. Your boss leaves first, but you and your coworkers stick around and begin making conversation.

“Oooh, you gonna go meet lover girl in the back, (Y/n)?”

You roll your eyes at a coworker’s words. “Ha ha. Real funny.”

“What does she wanna talk about anyway?”

You shrug, closing your locker. “Beats me.”

“Ooh, do you think she’s going to confess?”

You scoff. “No. Where’d you get that idea from?”

Your coworkers exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

Ever since that day when the don of the West Sharpies or something assumed you were Lyn’s lover, your coworkers have never let you live it down, especially with Lyn’s daily visits. She is… kind, considerate, polite, and she was pretty hot when she defended you back then. However! You do not have such a relationship with her, nor any kind of feelings like that.

You’re the last one to leave, the only one to leave through the back door to meet with Lyn. You see her leaning against the wall, dressed in her suit as always. The moment she spots you, she blushes again. She has never seen you in civilian clothes before, but you look so… beautiful. More so without the pink outfit.

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” you ask in your regular voice, out of character. Your face is still stiff though.

“O-oh, not at all, not at all. Um, here.”

She manifests a flower bouquet from behind for you. You take the bouquet, entranced by the largeness of it and how beautiful the colorful flowers look in the alleyway’s streetlight. When your eyes finally break away from the flowers, you find Lyn kneeling down on one knee and looking up at you with a very serious expression.

“Lyn?”

”(Y/n). Over these past several months,” she starts off, “I have been trying to figure out my feelings. I’ve thought about it over and over, tries to rationalize it as… as just infatuation, but… I know what’s in my heart. And I’ve finally come to a conclusion. Ever since I first met you, you have… captured my heart. I am in love with you, (Y/n).”

…..

You stare at her with wide eyes. “Huh?”

She clears her throat and starts glancing between you and the surroundings, embarrassed. “I-I know you may not feel the same. My brothers… and everyone else have told me already. And it’s not like I’ve really done anything to win your affection…” She mumbles something in between before continuing. “But if you give me the chance, I can show you what I’m capable of. As your potential girlfriend.”

She holds out a hand to you. “Will you… go out with me?”

“I…”

Do you want to try going out on a date with one of the May Devils, the youngest one too? You didn’t have any prior romantic feelings for the girl, which makes you feel bad. What if you never develop any feelings for her? What if she stops showing up to the cafe? What if you accidentally do something that triggers the entire famiglia after you?

In the midst of your thoughts, something dark emerges from you. A devil. It sits on your shoulder and whispers into your ear, “What if this is your chance to get out of here? She has money. You need money. It’s a match made in… well, ya know?”

…..

You smile, an expression Lyn hasn’t seen before but is entranced by, as you place your hand onto hers.

“I would love to.”

-----🔔-----

You hadn't expected to enjoy going out on dates with her, but you were sure glad that you said yes.

“(Y/n)! Look what I got for you!” Lyn excitedly says, holding a neatly wrapped box for you over your shoulder.

“Another one?” you chuckle, accepting the gift as she hugs you from behind and nuzzles the back of your neck. “Designer clothes. Designer bags. Luxuries cars. Lyn-Lyn, you're spoiling me too much. You're going to go bankrupt!”

She shakes her head, her hair tickles the back of your neck. “Mm mm mm mm. You're not being spoiled! You're being pampered! By me. Your loving, romantic girlfriend. Who regards you dearly very, very much! Forget about the money. Just let me enjoy spending it on you.”

You giggle and place a hand on her cheek, turning your head so you can share a kiss with her. Of course, Lyn starts planting lots of kisses on your face afterwards, like the lovely puppy she is.

You both fall into bed, full of laughter and joy until you both settle down to cuddle with each other. With your fingers interlocked with hers, Lyn gazes into yours with so much adoration, it makes you shy. You turn away and hide your face against the pillow.

“(Y/n), look at me,” she whispers.

You refuse, for a moment, but you make eye contact. You both gaze into each other's eyes, lovingly, until Lyn breaks the silence.

“I love you, (Y/n).

It makes you freeze, hearing those three words fall from her mouth for the first time in your relationship.

What shocks you more is that…

Well…

The thing is… normally…

You're… supposed to say it back, right?

You open your mouth but not a single noise leaves it. You avert your eyes in shame, biting your lip.

Why can't you say it? After all she's done for you so far?

…..

“I-It's okay, (Y/n),” Lyn suddenly says, making you look at her. Her eyes and voice are filled with sadness. “I know… that it takes time for a person to develop feelings for someone. I mean, it took time for me to realize my feelings too, and… I did ask you out knowing that you might not… reciprocate my feelings. At least not yet. That's why people date, right? To get to know each other and hopefully fall in love. So… I'll wait for you. Besides, we’ve only dated for a month, right? I’ll do my best to make you fall in love with me. Okay? Prepare yourself~”

You nod, happy that Lyn still wants to be with you even if you can't say those three words back to her yet.

-----🔔-----

“Who are you talking to?”

You look up from your phone. “Oh! One of my old coworkers. He was just asking how I'm doing now since I've left the cafe. Thanks to you,” you answer, with a playful smile.

Lyn’s face doesn't share your expression. “Oh. Okay.”

You pout, wondering what's going on with Lyn lately. She'd catch you on the phone, ask you who you're talking to, and then ignore you until she finds something else to ask.

You crawl towards her on the bed and ask, “Lyn, I know you're upset. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lyn looks at you, looks away, and then looks back at you again before she leans forward and catches your lips with a kiss. She pushes you down onto the bed before releasing you from her lips and just looks at you.

Her eyes move from your eyes to your lips to your exposed collarbone before going back up to your eyes. She sighs before laying her entire weight on you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck.

“Lyn?”

“I love you, (Y/n)... Do you love me?”

“I…” Your voice catches in your throat for nth time.

You feel her breath as she sighs. “I know.”

Tears start to fill up your eyes out of frustration. “I'm sorry…”

She pops back on her elbows, worried. “Oh no, it's okay. Shh shh. It's okay. (Y/n). My (Y/n). I'm sorry,” she coos, caressing your cheek and wiping your tears.

For some reason, no matter what she did, nothing could spark you to say those three damned words back to her. It isn't your fault but…

It is starting to drive her insane.

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