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thewulf · 5 months

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The Quiet Between || Azriel

Summary: Request -Hiyaaa loved your Az story. So freaking good. I had one in mind and wonder if you could write it? Maybe some deep Azriel and reader angst? I'm picturing a scene where Azriel, drowning under his duties and secrets snaps harshly at the reader, our newest healer at the Night Court when she gently suggests he talks about what’s weighing on him. His words sting, making her doubt her role at the court... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew this was challenging to write but I really love how it turned out! Please let me know how you like it below. And as always, keep sending in your requests!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Dawn Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k +

TW: Mean Az, Harsh Words (soft ending!)

When Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court, realized the growing demands of her duties required an apprentice she petitioned the High Lord for permission to seek out a promising candidate. Her search led her to Dawn Court where your skills and unique approach to healing caught her attention. Impressed, as she often wasn’t, she offered you the chance to study under her. A chance to take over for her in a few hundred years. It was a proposition that both excited and terrified you. Normally you were more risk-averse but something within urged you not to let this opportunity slip by. Accepting the offer might be a decision you'd regret forever if declined.

Your arrival at the Night Court was a mix of awe and overwhelming pressure. You were acutely aware of the Court’s reputation with its warriors and schemers, and its dances of politics and power. Yet, as the years unfolded you found more than just acceptance. You found a place where you felt like you just might belong. Madja was an exacting teacher and under her guidance you thrived. Your skills became indispensable to the Night Court.

Mor, your favorite social butterfly, took it upon herself to integrate you into the Court's vibrant life. She invited you out with the girls to Rita's where the music and laughter helped weave you deeper into the fabric of Night Court society. Cassian with his easy grin and boundless energy offered to train you in physical defense. He said it was essential for everyone at the Court to know how to protect themselves. And even Rhysand himself showed you how to fortify your mental shields as a necessary skill amidst the intrigues that often played out around them.

Yet despite these warm inclusions, Azriel was the only one who kept a cautious distance. The shadowy spymaster was polite but reserved. He often watched you with a contemplative gaze that suggested he was trying to figure you out from a safe distance. His reluctance to engage was not overtly hostile but it was clear he held reservations. His own shadows clinging too tightly, perhaps, to allow another close. This delicate balance of respect and curiosity marked your interactions, or lack thereof, with the spymaster. You often caught glimpses of Azriel as his presence like a whisper in the vast halls of the Court. He was always just out of reach, both physically and emotionally. His aloofness didn't hinder your duties. But it did create a space of unanswered questions in your mind.

One cool evening in the Night Court the opportunity to bridge that distance between him presented itself unexpectedly. Azriel returned from a particularly grueling mission. His arrival unannounced except for the quiet clatter of his boots in the hallway of the healer's quarters. As he pushed open the door, the grimace etched across his face spoke volumes of the pain he was enduring, both visible and hidden beneath the surface.

You ushered him in, your professional demeanor in place yet your heart beating a tad faster with the realization that this was the closest you had ever been to him. His usually guarded expression was replaced with a rare, unguarded grimace of pain. It revealed a vulnerability he typically masked beneath layers of shadows and silence making you feel a touch uneasy.

"Let me help," you offered softly while guiding him to a seat where you could better assess his injuries. The proximity to him in this moment tending to his wound felt like an unspoken permission to finally address the silent questions that had lingered between you. It was an opening to understand the man who had so thoroughly perfected the art of being untouchable.

"Let's take a look at that," you murmur while taking his hand in yours. Your hands are steady and careful as you gently peel away the fabric near his wound. The cut isn't deep, but it's laced with poison, enough to have caused significant discomfort. “I’m sorry. This is going to sting.” You whispered as you rushed off to grab the needed supplies.

As you apply a soothing salve you notice Azriel's clenched jaw and the way his muscles tighten under your touch—not just from the sting of the wound. You've seen warriors in all states, and you recognize the signs of inner turmoil as clearly as physical injuries.

"Azriel," you start, your voice soft but firm, "even the strongest warriors can benefit from sharing their burdens. It doesn't make you weak to speak about what's weighing on your heart." You try and sound confident in your words, but it comes out as meek.

His reaction is immediate and sharp. It cut through the air like a freshly sharpened knife. Azriel's eyes snap up to meet your with a coldness in them that freezes you in place. "You think you have the right to offer me counsel?" he says with his voice low and biting. "You, who have barely seen a fraction of the darkness I have faced. Yet you presume to understand my duties, my sacrifices?"

You open your mouth to apologize. To clarify your intentions but he doesn't give you the chance. "No, don’t," he snaps. Cutting you off as your heart begins to sink. "Don’t patronize me with platitudes and naive compassion. You know nothing of the burdens I carry. Of the secrets that consume me. You see surface wounds and think to heal a soul scarred by centuries?" It was the most you had heard him speak and unfortunately for you those words made your heart nearly twist in two. Surely that wasn’t what you were trying to do.

Your eyes begin to burn. His words slicing through any defense you might have had. You look down instead focusing on the bandage. To hide the hurt that’s welling up, threatening to spill over. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"Save your apologies," Azriel interrupts with a tone as harsh as a winter storm. "They mean nothing in the face of what I endure daily. You wish to help? Do so by not overstepping your bounds again." You drop his arm after finishing up removing the poison and sealing the cut. But he wasn’t done, no. You just wished he’d fly away instead of cutting you even deeper. You had no intention of offending him yet here he was, hurt by your very own words. You’d never truly felt like a helpless child in all your centuries until this very moment.

As he continues his words grow even colder, each one a deliberate stake right into your very own heart. "Understand this, healer. My life, my pains are not fodder for idle chatter or curious minds seeking to 'fix' what they perceive as broken. You cannot begin to comprehend the wars I fight within the shadows. Wars meant to protect you and everyone else here from horrors you should hope never to encounter." His words were final, offering you no chance at rebuttal. Not that you would have been able to find the words. Your mind was racing in horror about what had just transpired in your very own healing hall. You, the one who was meant to mend broken souls might’ve just torn his right back open.

He stands abruptly with his wound tended but the air around him colder than the stone walls of the court. His departure is swift, leaving a wake of silence so deep it echoes through the chamber. You're left alone with the sting of his rebuke more painful than any physical wound you've treated. His words replay in your mind as a harsh reminder of the chasm between his world of shadows and your desire to heal. Guilt begins to consume you as you replay the words that struck you so hardly in your mind.

The room feels overwhelmingly empty as you struggle to compose yourself. The impact of his dismissal weighing heavily on your heart. You realize that healing Azriel might be beyond your reach. Not for lack of skill, but because the wounds he carries are far deeper and more complex than you ever imagined. Perplexed and deeply hurt you find yourself grappling with a tumult of emotions. Confusion is the first to surface. You had approached the situation with genuine concern. Your offer to listen driven by the empathy that defines your role as a healer. His aggressive response, then, feels like an undeserved refusal. A dismissal not just of your words but of your very intent.

You replay the conversation in your mind, dissecting each exchange, each barbed word. His accusation that you, nestled in your world of herbs and healing, could never understand the scope of his darkness stings sharply. It's true though you realize. That the depths of his secrets are beyond your grasp. This acknowledgment doesn't ease the sting of rejection. If anything, it deepens the wound. You had not claimed to understand. You only wanted to listen. And yet, he had cut you off, leaving no room for reconciliation.

As the initial shock fades, a deeper, more persistent ache settles in. You're hurt. Undeniably so. Hurt by his insinuation that your attempts at comfort were trivial, naive even. Does he truly see you as just another court member? As just a healer? Naive to the true workings of his world? The thought is disheartening, and you feel a profound sense of isolation creeping in. A sense that perhaps you are out of your depth in this court of shadows and secrets. Perhaps your mother was right. You weren’t built for the Night Court. You had a wonderful, easy life in Dawn. She had even picked out a high-ranking husband for you that would’ve provided and kept you safe. Her nagging words pricked at the back of your mind as the last five years here almost fell all for nothing. Five years was no time in the world of fae, you knew this. You were still the new healer, but you had thought that maybe you were finally finding your footing here. But then again maybe you were wrong.

Yet, beyond the hurt and confusion there's also a glimmer of resolve. You're a healer, trained not only to mend wounds but to understand the people you treat. Azriel's outburst, though harsh, reveals more than his disdain. It highlights his immense burden. His profound isolation. Perhaps your approach was too direct. Too unguarded for someone so accustomed to concealing his emotions.

As you clean up the space a quiet resolution forms in your mind. You won't push him again, no, not without invitation. The sting of his words lingers, and you decide that perhaps the best way to handle this is to give him the space he seems to fiercely guard. He may have dismissed your concern today but it's clear that what he desires most is distance. Not the compassion you offered. In this moment of reflection, you recognize the complexity of healing. It’s not just about tending to visible wounds. It’s also about understanding when to step back. Recognizing that some scars are too deeply etched to be approached without consent. Azriel has his walls, high and fortified. And you, you decide, will no longer attempt to scale them. Instead, you resolve to avoid him, believing that distancing yourself is the kindest thing you can do for him right now.

This decision doesn't come easy. You're a healer, trained to offer solace and aid to those in pain. Yet, in this case, the healing you want to provide is not welcomed or perhaps even needed in the way you thought. You accept that sometimes healing means stepping back. It means allowing wounds to close in the solitude they were opened in. Maybe with time he will seek you out if ever he feels ready to lower his guard. Until then you'll focus on those who welcome your help carrying with you the lesson that sometimes the best way to care for someone is simply to let them be.

After the confrontation in the healing room the atmosphere at the Night Court seemed to shift becoming dense with an unspoken tension that hung heavily in the air. Azriel quickly became burdened by the discomfort of his own harshness. It wasn’t often but he felt an acute sting of regret. His words, sharper and colder than he had intended, replayed relentlessly in his mind. Each sentence an echo of a reminder of the pain he had inflicted on somebody so kind.

Late into the night he found himself wandering the quieter corridors of the court trying to clear his mind.. The stone beneath his feet was cold and unyielding much like the mask he wore so well. With each step he attempted to outpace his regret, but solitude brought no relief. The memory of the genuine shock and sadness in your eyes haunted him. A vivid image that refused to fade into the shadows where he so often retreated.

Why had he lashed out? Azriel questioned himself. His normally composed thoughts unraveling with unusual disorder. He knew the stress of his duties as the spymaster often left him on edge, a blade perpetually sharpened and ready. Yet, it was more than just the strain of his role. It was the fear of vulnerability. Of opening those darker parts of himself he fought so hard to control. Seeing your concern, so innocent and genuine, had somehow threatened the walls he had meticulously built around his emotions for centuries. He couldn’t become undone by your one simple question.

He hated himself for how he had responded to you. How his instinct to protect his inner turmoil had manifested as cruelty towards you. The more he thought about it the more he despised the part of himself that had become so adept at pushing others away, especially those who dared to care.

As Azriel continued his nocturnal wanderings the shadows around him seemed to whisper of solitude and sorrow. Yet, it was the sorrow in your eyes that lingered most prominently in his mind. He realized then that his actions might not only have hurt you but could also have damaged whatever budding respect or friendship could have grown between you. This thought tightened the already constricting band around his chest. He had messed up badly and he knew it. His shadows knew it.

Resolving to seek redemption, not just for his peace but to mend the fracture he had caused, Azriel decided he would apologize to you. He needed to explain to you. To make you understand that his outburst wasn’t a reflection of his feelings towards you but a misguided defense against his own insecurities.

His journey through the night didn’t erase his regrets, but it solidified his resolve. He would try to bridge the gap his words had created hoping that you would understand and perhaps forgive. In the quiet before dawn Azriel finally stopped walking, the decision firm in his mind. Tomorrow, he would face you again, not as the Night Court's daunting spymaster, but simply as Azriel… imperfect and remorseful.

As he moved silently past the gardens the moonlight cast a serene glow over the night-blooming flowers illuminating the path with a ghostly light. Drawn by the soft, muffled sounds of distress his shadows unconsciously steered him towards a secluded alcove hidden by tendrils of ivy and the long shadows of the towering trees. It was unmistakably you. His heart tightened as he approached. Driven by a mix of concern and a need to understand the impact of his earlier harshness.

There in the dim light, he found you seated on a small bench. You were not alone, but with one of the younger assistants from the healer's quarters he had recognized. The assistant, whom you often mentored, sat beside you with a hand on your shoulder. Her presence meant to support you as you struggled with a flood of emotions.

"I don’t know any more Helena. Maybe I just don't belong here," you whispered between sobs. Your voice shaky with uncertainty. Tears streamed down your cheeks unrestrained after holding them back for so long. Azriel's words had not just stung. They had acted as a dam break, releasing all the pent-up doubts and fears you had about your place in this illustrious court. "I keep thinking maybe I should just go back to Dawn. My very own mother always said I was chasing a fantasy coming here. Maybe she's right. Maybe a quieter life away from all this would be better for me. Maybe I’m not cut out for the Night Court."

The young assistant, Helena, looked up to you not only for your healing skills but also for your kindness and leadership. She listened intently. Her expression one of deep empathy and concern. "You can't think that way," she responded softly. Her voice earnest. "Everyone here, especially Madja, respects you so much. Cassian, Mor, even Rhysand—they all see how much you bring to our home. It's not just you’re healing. It's your spirit. You're meant to be here with us. Please don’t think like that. I’ve learned more than I ever thought possible from you. We need you here."

Her comforting words were meant to bolster your spirits, but the reassurance felt hollow against the backdrop of your raw emotions. Despite her encouraging tone, the doubts seeded by Azriel's harsh outburst lingered. They tainted your thoughts with shadows of uncertainty about your place in this world you had grown to love yet still sometimes felt alien in.

Azriel was hidden just out of sight. He felt a deep pang of regret as he listened. The raw pain in your voice and the sight of your tears struck him more profoundly than he had ever expected. He realized then that his careless words had cut far deeper than he had intended, not just challenging your confidence but piercing the very core of your sense of belonging. Knowing that an apology would be necessary but not sufficient, Azriel resolved to actively show that you were valued and essential. Not just as a healer but as a vital member of their community. His thoughts solidified in the quiet of the night. He would make amends, starting with a heartfelt apology and followed by actions that would hopefully restore your faith in your place at the Night Court.

It was an ordinary yet busy day in the healer's quarters of the Night Court. You were deeply focused on tending to a young fae warrior who had sustained a minor but painful injury during training. As you carefully applied a healing salve the sound of urgent voices and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"He needs help now!" Azriel's voice carried a tone of dire urgency as he burst into the room. He was supporting a limping Cassian whose leg was bleeding profusely from a deep gash surely laced with poison. These damn Illyrians always coming back with some form of poisoned injury. The sight of such an injury would normally have you on your feet and rushing over. But the presence of Azriel, the harbinger of your recent heartache, gave you pause.

For a split second your gaze met Azriel's and the memory of his harsh words and cold dismissal surged through your mind. You looked away as quickly as you could. Your chest immediately tightened with anxiety at the thought of what to do. It wasn’t fair to Cassian to ignore him, but you didn’t think you could face Azriel right now. Terrified of another confrontation and still raw from the last you quickly turned your attention back to the young fae before you.

"This one's in a critical state, I need to focus here. Helena, please attend to the General." you called out your voice slightly louder than necessary. The lie laid bitter on your tongue. It wasn't entirely untrue. His injury did need attention, but it certainly wasn't as dire as Cassian's condition.

Helena, who had followed in behind Azriel and Cassian, quickly stepped forward to assist, sensing the tension. "I've got him, don't worry," she spoke as she moved to tend to Cassian with a swift efficiency that you were grateful for.

As you focused intently on the young fae's injury with your back turned to the drama unfolding behind you, you heard every strained whisper and shuffling footstep echoed ominously. Despite your efforts to concentrate your mind spun with anxiety and dread. You knew your actions were a protective shield guarding you from a confrontation you felt unprepared to handle.

Behind you, Azriel's concern for Cassian was palpable. His usual stoic demeanor was pierced by urgency. His voice a low, constant murmur as he assisted your assistant. Yet, his mind was partly on you. He was troubled by the palpable tension and the rigid set of your shoulders. The memory of his previous harshness towards you weighed heavily on him, mixing regret with a newfound caution. He wondered if his actions had broken something essential. Perhaps fearing that your trust in him might be irreparably damaged.

Cassian, despite his pain noticed the strained dynamics as well. As your assistant worked on his wound his eyes flicked towards you, then back to Azriel. "What happened between you two?" he hissed under his breath not missing the unusual distance you kept. Azriel's silence was an answer in itself. It was filled with remorse and resignation. Cassian's frown deepened. Concern for his friends overshadowing his physical discomfort. "You need to fix this, Az," he muttered, firm yet worried. "She’s not just any healer. She’s part of this family now. She’s going to replace Madja someday."

Once the immediate crisis was handled and Cassian was stable Azriel made his way towards you. His steps were hesitant, each one heavy with regret. When he paused by your side his presence felt like a cold shadow. His usual warmth for his family became obscured by the barrier that had formed between you.

"Thank you," he said softly. His voice low and perhaps understanding more than you wanted him to. "For all that you do here." You sucked in a breath at his words. Was he apologizing? Was he sorry? Were you completely misreading the situation yet again?

You didn't turn to face him. Fear of what you might see in his eyes—anger, disappointment, or worse, indifference—kept you fixed in place. "Of course," you managed to whisper. The words barely escaping your lips. He sensed that this wasn’t the time nor place to dig deeper so he resolved to keep his words simple. He would find you later when you weren’t busy working. He truly needed to apologize to you.

After he left the weight of the encounter settled heavily upon you. You felt a mix of relief at having avoided direct confrontation and a deep-seated guilt for your evasion. You knew this wasn't just about professional duties. It was about the fractures within a team, a family you had grown to cherish.

Later, as the healer’s quarters quieted and the evening settled in, Cassian found you in the gardens, where the night’s cool air seemed to echo the chill in your own thoughts. It was your favorite place to relax and unwind. Your sanctuary in the chaos that was the Night Court. He approached with a confident stride despite his recent injury and his expression was serious.

"Hey," he started. His voice carrying a hint of his usual directness mixed with concern. "Things were off between you and Az today. He’s worried, and frankly, so am I. We’ve all had our rough patches, but we don’t let that drive a wedge between us. Yeah?"

You paused, looking down at your growing herbs rather than meeting his gaze. You let out a soft sigh before answering him. "I’m just scared, Cass. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing again. It’s like... I’m tiptoeing around landmines with him. How do I even start to fix that?"

Cassian nodded. His features softening slightly. "Az can be intense. I won’t argue with that. But he’s also one of the most upright guys I know. Just be honest with him. Tell him you’re trying to avoid making things worse. He respects straightforwardness. Always has." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And remember, it’s not just about avoiding the landmines. It’s about clearing the field. Start with the truth. It’s always been the best foundation for us here, no matter how hard it might be."

You nodded appreciating his words. He was right. The truth got you so much further. "Thanks, Cass," you replied feeling a resolve begin to form. "I think I’ll talk to him. Just lay everything out."

"That’s the way," Cassian said with a brief nod. "We’re all here together, and we keep no secrets... save Azriel,” He smirked knowing that’s likely what got the two of you in the situation in the first place. “At least not the kind that hurt. If you're honest, he’ll listen. And if there’s anyone who can understand the value of facing hard truths, it’s Azriel."

As Cassian left you to your thoughts the weight on your shoulders didn't lift entirely but you felt more prepared to face the challenge ahead. Honesty would be your approach; you would share your fears with Azriel, hoping that it would bridge the gap between you. After all, in the Night Court, even the darkest shadows were faced together, not alone.

The next night you found yourself back in the serene confines of your herb garden where the evening light softened the edges of each leaf and petal. You were deeply absorbed in tending to a cluster of chamomile. The quiet focus on your plants provided a necessary reprieve from the swirling anxieties that had occupied your thoughts lately. However, your calm shattered when a shadow loomed unexpectedly over you. Azriel.

Startled, you looked up, only to find him standing there watching you with a curiosity you’d never seen from him before. His sudden presence was imposing and unexpectedly close and sent a rush of panic through you. His height and the intensity in his eyes seemed to fill the space making the air around you feel thinner.

"Oh! Azriel, you surprised me! I didn’t hear you walk over," you blurted out. A nervous chuckle escaping you as you hastily tried to gather your scattered wits. "I was just, um, focusing here, and—you know, plants don’t really talk back, so I guess I wasn't expecting any company."

He paused after noting your discomfort. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you," he said gently. His voice a soothing rumble. "I came to apologize. For the last time we spoke. I was too harsh. It was unfair to you."

Your response tumbled out in a rush. Your words tripping over each other. "No, no, it’s fine, really. I mean, not fine fine, but you know… I should’ve been more aware or something. I’m usually not this jumpy, I swear. Maybe a little—actually, maybe a lot right now because, well, you're kind of, um, imposing? And this wasn’t how I imagined our next conversation going..."

Azriel’s slight smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it did appear to carry a hint of amusement at your rambling. "I appreciate you saying that, but truly, I am the one who should be apologizing. I’ve thought a lot about what I said... and I regret it deeply. You didn’t deserve that." He took another step toward you as you stood.

You swallowed hard trying to steady your racing heart. "Why are you apologizing now?" you managed to ask feeling suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. The question felt bold, but your voice was anything but confident.

He took a slight step back giving you a bit more space. "Because I realized I might have made you feel unwelcome or undervalued here and that’s… that’s the last thing I want. We all need to support each other, and I failed in that moment. I want to make it right if you’ll let me."

Your mind raced with every thought, but you nodded feeling a mix of apprehension and relief. "I... yeah, I’d like that. I’ve been feeling a bit lost here. Like maybe I don’t belong. It’s been tough, and, well, your words stung. But maybe, I don’t know, maybe we can start over? Try to understand each other a bit more?" As you offered him a tentative smile the garden seemed to return to its peaceful state. The earlier tension dissipating slightly.

Azriel’s gaze softened with a rare flicker of amusement lighting his eyes as he noticed your unease. "You handle the complexities of healing with such ease," he commented with a slight tease in his voice, "yet you seem quite disarmed by a rather simple conversation."

You gave a small self-conscious laugh appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, it's one thing to deal with herbs and potions. They tend not to talk back. It's another to navigate apologies and emotions. Especially with someone who usually keeps his cards so close to his chest."

He smiled and it transformed his face, softening the usual stern lines. "Fair enough," he conceded. Then, his expression turned more serious. The playful glint replaced by a depth of sincerity. "I really am sorry, though. For everything. I know I keep saying it, but it’s because I mean it. I’ve been... difficult towards you these last few years. And I don’t want to burden you with the things I’ve carried. Of the decisions I've had to make. It’s not your weight to bear."

You listened, understanding dawning as you saw the heavy cloak of responsibility he wore. Something that was so integral to his identity yet so isolating. "Maybe not," you replied softly, "but sharing those burdens doesn’t mean you're passing them on. It just means you’re not alone with them anymore. We can share without it being a burden. Sometimes, sharing is how we heal."

Azriel looked at you with something like wonder flickering in his gaze. "I suppose you’re right," he admitted. "It’s just not easy for me. I’ve always thought keeping my troubles to myself was a way to protect others. But maybe... maybe I’ve been wrong about that." The conversation deepened as each of you explored the nuances of forgiveness and the strength found in mutual understanding and empathy. Azriel learned about the power of vulnerability. Not as a spymaster but as a man. And he saw how your empathy and gentle nature enriched the court in ways that strategy and strength could not.

"I've kept many secrets," Azriel confessed. His voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of rustling leaves. "Not because I enjoy the solitude but because I fear the consequences of those secrets unraveling."

"You don’t have to tell me everything," you assured him. "Just knowing that you trust me enough to admit you have these secrets is a step. We all have secrets Azriel. What matters is how we face them and who stands with us when we do."

Azriel nodded. The corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for understanding."

You nodded but still felt a nagging question at the bottom of your heart. The gardens around you seemed to hold their breath as you voiced a concern that had been shadowing your thoughts. "Azriel, back when you... when you were upset. You called me 'healer.' Is that… is that all you see me as?" Your insecurity got the better of you. The question sounded so much more childish as you asked it aloud, but you needed to know the answer.

Azriel’s expression changed instantly. The regret in his eyes unmistakable. "Gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I was angry and overwhelmed and I unfairly took it out on you." His voice was thick with remorse. His usual stoicism giving way to a rare openness. "You are so much more than just a healer to us, to me. I should never have made you feel otherwise." Seeing the sincerity in his gaze you felt a complex knot of emotions begin to untangle. Yet, there was still a shadow of sadness in your eyes. A remnant of the hurt his words had caused.

Noticing this, Azriel did something completely unexpected. He stepped closer. His presence enveloping you whole, and hesitantly, almost awkwardly he opened his arms. "May I?" he asked softly giving you the choice.

With a small nod you stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It was a rare gesture from him as he was known for his guarded nature. It spoke volumes of his regret and his desire to make amends. His shadows ever a part of him, seemed to curl around the both of you gently. A comforting whisper against your skin.

As you stood there held in his careful embrace Azriel spoke again, his voice gentler than you had ever heard. "I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. I let my anger and frustrations dictate my actions and you bore the brunt of that. I promise you this, I will do better. You deserve better."

Pulling back slightly he looked down into your eyes, ensuring you could see the truth in his. "Thank you for giving me the chance to apologize, to make things right. I don’t take your forgiveness lightly."

Your heart that was once heavy with doubt and hurt now fluttered with a burgeoning sense of renewed connection. "Thank you, Azriel, for understanding, for this," you said, your voice steady despite the emotions brimming within.

This conversation that was once a tentative path to reconciliation had blossomed into something deeper. A genuine connection fostered by understanding and shared vulnerabilities. Azriel's willingness to show his softer side, to bridge the gap with both an apology and a hug, marked a new chapter in your relationship. One filled with potential for even greater understanding and closeness. Together in the quiet of the herb garden you both began to navigate a path toward healing. Your relationship strengthened by the honesty and empathy of your exchange. It was a tentative step forward. One filled with potential for deeper understanding and a strengthened connection.

As the weeks turned into months, the atmosphere between you and Azriel visibly shifted. You both continued with your roles at the Night Court—Azriel, cloaked in shadows as the spymaster, and you, weaving magic and medicine as a healer. The sharp edges of earlier interactions softened replaced by a mutual respect and an unspoken understanding that grew with each passing day.

One evening during a relaxed gathering at the Night Court, the air was filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the warm laughter of friends and allies. Under the gentle glow of twilight you found yourself beside Azriel discussing something that excited you greatly—a plan for a new herb garden specifically designed for healing and restorative properties.

As you outlined your ideas your enthusiasm was palpable. "I’ve been researching some rare herbs that could thrive here under the Night’s eternal stars," you explained with your hands gesturing animatedly. "There’s this one flower, Lumina Blossom, known for its potent healing capabilities with poison but incredibly rare. I think with the right care, we could cultivate it here."

Azriel watched you with a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened intently. The usual shadows that clung to him seemed to lift slightly instead replaced by a light of curiosity sparked by your passion. It was a stark contrast to the brooding intensity he was known for. His gaze was fixed on you, clearly fascinated by your knowledge and the excitement that lit up your features.

"Have you considered adding Dawnlight Belle to your garden?" he suggested. His tone encouraging but slightly hesitant, as if he were treading on unfamiliar ground. "I've heard it's a good one. Especially for salves used in treating deep wounds, which unfortunately, we encounter often here."

You paused, your expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Azriel, I'm impressed you’ve heard of Dawnlight Belle," you said while nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, it's remarkably effective for healing deep wounds and incorporating it here would indeed be incredibly beneficial. It's also a bit of home but with a practical use for the Night Court."

Azriel’s smile widened slightly. His usual reserve melting away in the warmth of the conversation. "I thought it might be useful," he said softly. "It’s important to have pieces of home with us. And you’ve done so much to find your place here. It’s only fitting your garden does the same."

The conversation flowed easily between you as it slowly had come to. And as you spoke more about your plans Azriel's responses were thoughtful, showing his deep respect for your work. It was clear that he was not only listening but also truly engaged in what you were sharing.

As the evening wore on you found yourself more relaxed and open to discussing your hopes and dreams for the garden. Azriel's attentiveness and the sincere interest he showed in your passions brought a new depth to your interaction. A sense that something meaningful was blossoming between you, rooted in mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose.

Together you sketched out potential layouts for the garden. His strategic mind complementing your creative vision. The project that was born from a casual conversation was shaping up to be a beautiful symbol of regeneration and unity. It was a confirmation to the growing relationship forming between you as you both discovered the joy of collaboration and mutual understanding.

From across the way Cassian caught Rhysand and Feyre’s attention, nodding subtly towards you and Azriel with a wide grin. "Look at that," he chuckled. "Seems our resident shadowsinger has found a bit of light. Never thought I’d see the day."

Rhys, with a sly grin and a sparkle in his eye that matched the mischief in his voice, glanced over at you two. "Oh, I’d say there’s a bit more than just gardening going on there," he quipped as he leaned back with an air of casual intrigue. "Wouldn’t you agree, Cass? Feyre? It seems our spymaster might just be more enchanted with our lovely healer than he lets on."

Cassian laughed. His loud voice booming across the room. "You're one to talk, Rhys. Just don’t start planning their mating ceremony yet. Let them at least decide if they like each other first."

Feyre, who had been quietly observing the exchange from her place next to Rhysand, chuckled and shook her head. "She seems so good for him I must admit. But don't you dare meddle, Rhysand. We know how that turns out," she teased. Her eyes gleaming with humor. "Remember the Great Cake Incident of '49?"

The group erupted into laughter, including Rhys, who rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, alright, no meddling," he conceded. His voice still laced with laughter. "But for the record, that cake deserved better and meddling here would only help them."

The evening continued with the stars twinkling above as conversations flowed around the room. Your interaction with Azriel, now less guarded and more genuine, did not go unnoticed by those who knew him best. As the night deepened, the easy banter and shared smiles between you and Azriel spoke of something that was quietly strengthening. It was clear to everyone, even without Rhysand’s playful meddling, that something significant was blossoming. Something that went beyond the professional respect of two court members.

Together, you and Azriel discovered that even in a place as mystical and imposing as the Night Court, the true magic lay not just in ancient spells or hidden power but in the connections forged through vulnerability, trust, and perhaps, the beginnings of something deeper.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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caraphernellie · 7 months

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thinking soooo hard about loser!nerd!ellie like the biggest dork ever

she invites you over and the second you step inside the house she’s picking you up and laughing while you thrash around. and she carries you all the way to her room and she makes super exaggerated grunt sounds like UGHHHHHHHHHH as she throws you on the bed and it’s so cute and she thrives off your giggling and laughing to the point where she gets turned on while ‘play fighting’ with you 😭😭 WHEW i need her

edit to add: she would also get so stupidly pissed off if you didn’t hear something she said/ignored her. kind of gamer!ellie but you learned how to ignore her passive aggressive talking down the mic so when she glances at you and murmurs something about you looking pretty you don’t hear it. she gets all annoyed like “BABE” and all huffy and puffy as she snaps “LITERALLY JUST CALLED YOU PRETTY BUT OKAY I GUESS YOU DON’T EVEN LOVE ME ANYMORE.” shut up girl LMAO 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

DO NOT BUY TLOU, TLOU2, TLOU REMASTERED!!!!! click here !!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ rambling #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ headcanons

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 5 months

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Third Time's the Charm?: Chaggie

Vaggie: (bringing Charlie on a romantic walk through the Morningstar gardens) Hey, Charlie, there's something I've been meaning to say....

Charlie: (phone rings) I'm so sorry, Vaggie. Hold that thought! Dad's calling. (picks up) What's wrong, Dad? ..... He what? ..... With WHO?!?!?! .... I'll be right here! (hangs up) We gotta get back to the hotel, ASAP!!! Tell me later?

Vaggie: Uh... Yeah.....

Charlie: Great! Let's go! (grabs Vaggie's hand and runs while dragging her)

Vaggie: this is fine.......

*********

Vaggie: (sets up a romantic meal at the hotel just for her and Charlie) Okay, we're at the hotel, so nothing should get in the way this time.

Charlie: Vaggie, this is so sweet! You got all my favorite foods here! What's the occasion?

Vaggie: (shrugs nonchalantly) Can't a girl spoil her beloved without a reason? (swallows) But... I do have a reason, I guess. You caught me. I wanted to say something.... kind of important.

Charlie: (raises an eyebrow and balks) Are you breaking up with me?!

Vaggie: What? NO!!! No! Nononononono... Exact opposite. I want to stay with you forever, babe.

Charlie: (sighs) Whew! Good, because I want to stay with you too~

Vaggie: (smiles and starts pulling the ring out of her pocket) Charlie, I-

Explosion erupts through the door leading to the kitchen as a gruel monster growls deep within.

Angel: HUSK!!! I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU COULD COOK!!!

Husk: I haven't cooked in decades! Why the fuck would you think I could cook!?!??!

Charlie: Holy shit! (runs over to the kitchen and grabs a fire extinguisher)

Vaggie: (listens to the screaming and sounds of the extinguisher blasting a gelatinous blob monster) ......this is fine.....

*******

Vaggie: (sitting on the balcony of her and Charlie's room and staring at a fireworks display she asked Lucifer to put together for her)

Charlie: (staring starstruck at the fireworks) Wow! This is beautiful, Vaggie!

Vaggie: (rests her chin in her hand as she stares at Charlie) Yeah... beautiful....

Charlie: (notices Vaggie staring and blushes) What? Is there something on my face?

Vaggie: Just your gorgeous blush, babe~

Charlie: (giggles all flustered) Vaggie, stop! What's got you lying on the charm so thick all of a sudden?

Vaggie: You deserved to be charmed every day of your life, babe. I love you, and I want to be able to do that for you. (grabs the ring in her pocket) So, Ms. Charlotte Morningstar. (sees Charlie wrinkle her brow and snickers) Charlie... will you-

Niffty: (out on the veranda, jumps onto one of the firework rockets and blasts into the air) AAAAHHHHHHHHHH-HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!

Lucifer: Oh, quackers!!! Let go of the rocket, kid! I'll catch you!

Angel: Nah, let her be! She likes the pain!

Charlie: OH, MY GOD!!! NIFFTY-

Vaggie: (finally snaps) No! No more interruptions! You! (points to Charlie)

Charlie: M-Me?

Vaggie: Wedding! You and me! Holy matrimony and all that shit! Marry me! (pauses as she groans and holds up the ring) Charlie, will you marry me?

Charlie: YES!!!

Hazbins: FUCKING FINALLY!!!

#chaggie #charlie #vaggie #proposal #hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #lucifer #niffty #angel #husk #third times the charm

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elsweetheart · 1 year

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cats cradle

synopsis: ellie and her failed lab experiment bestie navigate her first ever heat.

♪ lana del rey, the weeknd — stargirl interlude ♪

cw: whew, this is gonna be a lot. fem reader, reader is a failed lab experiment which gives her cat like appearance in a few ways (ears, tail, claws etc) not furry porn, reader is mentioned to be 20 purely just for detail purposes but you can just change to whatever in your head idk, readers tail touches ellie in the night without knowing really lol, smut / strap on sex / foreplay / dry humping, overstimulation, small blood kink feature but nothing crazy at all, reader is just crazy and horny and primal, cockwarming. lmk if i missed any !

an: alrighty, here it is. i cannot stress this enough — if this isn’t your kind of thing, please just don’t read it. i won’t be offended if you don’t, i just don’t wanna hear any bs in my inbox please! this was experimental and i don’t even know if i like this fic or not so please be gentle. to the people who have been so sweet and encouraging throughout my up and downs of writing this, thank you and i love you! as usual, minors and ageless blogs do not interact you aren’t welcome here. enjoy! 🐈‍⬛ 🤍

WINTER

Spring would be here soon. That was all you could think of, a dull anxiety thrumming in the pit of your stomach at the thought. You stared at the solitary bright yellow flower peeking through its blanket of snow, the downfall of ice from the blizzard outside the window beating it mercilessly against the wind— and yet it stood, continuing to pop back up, almost like it was taunting you. You wished you could love spring. The thing about seasons changing was that they happened without permission and whether you liked it or not. Truthfully, you loved the idea of flowers and dresses and warmth on your skin, but it made it all the more difficult to hide the…elements of you that people wouldn’t understand. You weren’t talking about scars, or hair or bumps, no. You were talking about —

“What’cha lookin’ at.” The mellow voice of your best friend Ellie Williams broke you out of your thoughts, traipsing up behind you to sit with you on the window seat, tucked into an alcove below rotting bay windows in the abandoned house the two of you were holed up in on patrol, whilst the blizzard outside came down hard. She gets comfortable, drawing her knees up as she leant against the chipped paint, accommodating to make more room for you. Your head snapped towards her, towards her grey hoodie that — wasn’t you wearing that last night? shutup, and her khaki green jacket zipped up over it, jeans and Converse and messy bun tucked into the nape of her neck. Pretty. Always pretty. Always just a friend you couldn’t touch. Not how you wanted to, anyway.

“Nothing? Just watching the snow fall.” You sigh out wistfully, knowing you’d both rather be in bed on this early, freezing cold morning.

“Yeah? Y’looked worried about something.” She rasps, toeing you with the dirtied white tip of her maroon chucks and tilting her head. You dart your eyes back to the yellow flower springing up to see it finally get pummelled down by a huge globe of powdery snow. Hah.

“Just scared the snow will cover up the door and lock us in here.” You nibble your lip, tugging your pink wooly hat tighter over your head, ensuring it was still in place. She shook her head, casually, and her blasé attitude to most things often eased any anxieties that dwelled within you.

“There’s a smashed window in one of the rooms I checked, can climb out if we need to. S’why it’s so fuckin’ freezing in here.” She rubbed her arms in tribute to this statement, puffing out her cheeks for a moment. “You not cold?”

“Oh, I’m cold.” You flit your eyes over her with faux judgement. “Just not being a baby about it.” She huffs out a laugh, folding her arms.

“Fuck you, dude.”

Dude. You roll your eyes. Always dude, but ‘baby’ in your late night daydreams. You scrub the thought away.

An hour passes, and the snow is still coming down hard. 8:54AM.

“Okay, I’m sorry — what do you mean you’ve never played truth or dare before. Have you like, never met someone your age?” She’s smirking, always relishing in your lack of general knowledge because honestly, it made her feel like she had more to offer and teach you. You’re drawing a palm tree on the window’s condensation, the tropical sight doing nothing to mask the dreary weather outside of it.

“Okay first of all, we aren’t the same age — you’re twenty-two. That’s a few more years of experience to learn stuff that I haven’t.”

“And how old are you again? Eighteen?” She pretends to think.

“Twenty. And you knew that, idiot.”

She snickers, muttering a teasing “Baby face.” under her breath, drawing a comical penis shape with her finger beside your palm tree making you tsk and swat her away.

“Secondly, no— my old camp were all like, old people. I was the youngest there. Didn’t have anyone to teach me any of your weird games.”

It took you about twelve years of your life to realise that normal preteen girls didn’t have pointed ears atop their head, or a tail, or retractable claws and fangs. You knew you were different, yes. No one else in your small camp had features quite like yours, and you really knew you were different because you spent your life in hiding. Under protection. Ears shoved under hats and tail bunched beneath tight jeans. Hence, you know — the fear of warmer weather approaching.

You didn’t quite know where you came from and you were okay with that. Whispers between the couple that raised you, talks of your real dad being a scientist before this all went down which explains things… enough. You didn’t really want to know how you ended up this way, because it couldn’t have been good — or ethical for you to grow up part girl part animal.

19 years old, and you had moved into Jackson. Found at the gate. No more camp. No more found family. Just a girl who survived, stood in the snow. You’d met Ellie, a friend of Jesse who’d found you — and the two of you had hit it off instantly, as friends of course. Ellie liked how different you are to her, pretty naive with lots to learn in comparison to her hard edges and weathered attitude. When you weren’t biting back playfully at her sarcasm you were the ray of sunshine she’d needed in the snow globe that she lived in. She’d even stepped up to take you with her on patrol and ease you into learning how to fend for yourself a little, a skill you never acquired with your old group. That brings you here, sat on a window seat, trapped by a blizzard, doing very little learning. Okay, back to you Ellie.

“Truth or dare is not weird, I swear. Look, we can play it. Pass the time whilst we wait for the blizzard to chill out. You in?”

“Okay.”

“So,” She crosses her legs now. “You can pick, truth or dare. If you don’t answer your truth, I get to pick a dare. And uh, vice versa. Yeah. It’s simple.”

You nod, and she continues — rambling in typical Ellie style.

“Like, okay. Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” You grin happily.

“Alright, I dare you to run into the blizzard naked.”

“Uh — truth! Truth!” You change your answer, making her laugh.

“Alright… tell me about your first kiss.” She’s giddy, on the precipice of a laugh, dying to make fun of whatever story you come out with and you falter, dragging your eyes back to the window. The palm tree you drew in the condensation is starting to drip and create long clear lines down the window.

“I already told you, never met people around my age so… haven’t had one.” You shrug, peeling a bit of old paint off the windowsill. You glance up and she’s nodding with her lips turned down, trying really hard not to look judgy because she wasn’t, she swears and she didn’t want you to feel bad. She tucked away the thought that she found it cute. Found you cute. The thought of being your first kiss flashed through her mind as quickly as she erased it.

“Alright. No shame in the game. We’ll get you there.” She pats your foot reassuringly and you tense up in embarrassment slightly, a claw spiking through the knit of your glove making you close your palm into a fist on your lap. Ellie had heaps of experience, which kind of made your confession more embarrassing.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Her answer is almost instant.

“Boring.” You giggle.

“Whatever.”

You sigh… eyes wandering around the room, over the dusty canvases on the wall with paintings of mountains, perhaps the very mountains that surrounded your town— you couldn’t tell. What could you ask her? What did you actually want to know? What didn’t you already know? You bite your lip, eyes flickering around.

“Take your time.” She raises an eyebrow and you huff at her impatience.

“Okay, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else before. A secret that’ll literally bind us for life.” Your eyes twinkle and now it’s her turn to falter. She doesn’t want to glance at her covered arm, but she does anyway. Not that you’d ever be able to guess her big secret. No one could, you probably wouldn’t even believe her.

“Good question, see you’re getting the hang of it.” She raises her eyebrows, impressed and you bask in the sound of the icy winds outside, head slowly tilting to the side as you watch her grow a little uneasy. Ellie Williams, your best friend had a big secret. And you knew all of her secrets, so you were doubly intrigued. You knew about the time her and Dina got too drunk and kissed before practically yelling at eachother that it felt too wrong and they’d never do it again, you knew about the time she didn’t wanna trade any items at the little store for food so she selfishly shoved a can of tomato soup in her pocket and ducked out, knew all the rest of them because you remember her drunkenly shoving her hand over your giggling mouth and whispering “You actually can’t tell anyone, okay? Shit, why do I tell you these things?”

“Okay. I’m immune.”

“To being slapped? Answer my truth or face your forfeit.” You were grinning ear to ear, like she thought you would and — she nearly wanted to just leave it there. Let you believe she was joking. But oh, your perceptive self. You saw the falter of her bashful expression, the way honesty coloured her face and for once she couldn’t make eye contact. Surely not? “Immune?” You repeat, more like a statement but you’re confused nonetheless.

“Uh, yeah.” There’s no humour in her tone and yet you’re still smiling, waiting on her still to smirk or chuckle or something. When you just stare at her, she starts to undo her jacket. “I can uh, I can kind of prove it, I guess?” She pushes her hoodie sleeve up, and you’re faced with the tattoo you’ve stared at many times before. The pink pad of her finger traces along the inside of her arm, and your eyes focus — honing in on the faint scar curtained behind the dark blue ink. “There… was a bite here. Me and my friend were together when we were kids and we both got bit. She turned and… yeah, guess I’m still waiting.” Her eyes were distant, and yeah — Ellie played jokes on you sometimes. You were gullible and naive, not having faced the usual prankish behaviour of people similar in age to you before but this? She wasn’t that great of an actor. There was actual, real life pain behind her avoidant gaze.

“You’re serious?” You furrow your brows and she purses her lips, a pinkie-finger of gesture held in the air.

“Swear.”

You stare at her arm, and she reaches for her jacket again — feeling the chill of the house again despite an uncertain heat creeping up her neck. “How do you know it wasn’t just a one off?”

She shrugs. “Guess we’ll know if I get bitten again.” She chuckles dismissively. You go to speak, tell her how life changing her secret was but she’s quicker. “Alright, your turn. Now I’ve told you something no one else knows you gotta do the same. Biggest secret, go.” She exhales, and it feels like the room is alleviated of some of the pressure.

“Excuse me, what if I wanted to pick dare?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Well then.”

Your ears twitched and you brought your knees to your chin. Ellie was just so vulnerable with you, but you’d always been told — under every single circumstance not to tell anyone about your…rarity. It was something that not even you understood, so sharing it with others could put you in danger. People often lashed out at what they didn’t understand, you were told it was that way in the old world too— though you’re sure people weren’t quite dealing with being a hybrid with a literal animal.

“I’m not sure you’re ready for my secret.”

“Dude, I just fucking told you I can’t get infected, you’re not gonna top that.” She exasperated, prodding your leg with her knuckles. She didn’t beat around the bush with her secret, or make you beg for the reveal — so you figured you’d cut straight to the chase. You pulled your hat off your head, ears standing to attention — hearing just that tiny bit clearer. Ellie raised an eyebrow, not sure what she was looking at, about to make some kind of comment like ‘Uh, your secret is that you have hair?’ — until her eyes darted up and stayed there. You pulled off your gloves too and held your hand between the two of you, sharp claws extending. Ellie jumped, and you pulled back shamefully.

“What is… what am I… what am I looking at?” She gawked breathlessly, eyes widening at the way your ears twitched shyly, the outside of them coated by fur the same colour as your hair, the inside of your ears pink, sprouting wispy white hair from it. Ellie could barely keep her mouth closed.

“Yeah, so… I’m like a girl who is also a cat who is also just a girl— nothing weird I swear — apparently my dad was a scientist and he made some fucked up combination DNA and — ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m a freak. Laugh it up.” You ramble, waving your hand in a way you hoped was dismissive and in that moment a gun to your head wouldn’t have made you make eye contact with the auburn haired friend parallel to you.

“Hey, wait — I’m just trying to… holy shit?” She furrows her brows before chuckling. “I feel like I’m having a weird ass dream right now, dude.”

You reach for your hat to shove it back on, and her heavy hand lays on top of yours. She watched the way your ears flattened like aeroplane wings and you frowned a little. “I’m sorry… I’m not laughing at you. That’s… fucking awesome. You’re like a comic book character, man.”

Your eyes lifted from her hand, heart thundering in your chest both from her reaction to your big reveal and her hand laying on yours. “So, a freak.” You go to move your hand but she grips it.

“No, just… cool… don’t… put your hat back on yet. I’ve got questions.”

A pause sat between the two of you, and she broke out into a smile again. “Fuck you, your thing totally beats my thing.”

“Thats not a question, Els.”

11:20AM

“So does this mean you’re immune too? Pretty sure animals can’t get infected.”

The window had fogged over completely now, view of beyond the window obstructed but you didn’t mind. It felt more enclosed, in a good way. The outside world didn’t exist anymore.

“I’m not fully an animal though. Don’t wanna risk finding out.”

She sat back, looking at you incredulously. Not like you were a spectacle, or a circus performer from the old world — but like you were something magnificent. Like a unicorn, or a fairy.

“This is gonna… take me some time to get used to. You sure you’re not fuckin’ with me?” She turns her head suspiciously.

“Oh I’m pretty sure. Had to live my whole life with cat ears and a tail, would be a awfully sick prank.” You huff, focusing your attention on scraping off the shimmery pink nail polish you had acquired on a previous patrol. You’d painted them to distract from the subtle claw-like appearance they had even when they weren’t extended.

“You have a tail? Show me.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just pull down my pants.”

“Oh shit, yeah. My bad.”

You sat together, and you shifted under her gaze, palms itching to pull your hat back over your ears, shielding yourself from her prying gaze. This was… out of your comfort zone. You trusted Ellie with your life, sure. But this was a lot. You’d been hiding this element to your self your whole life and suddenly you’re practically hollering it from the mountain tops all because you were enticed to share a secret during a silly little game? Who else would you tell just because they’d given you positive attention?

“You wanna touch my ears?” You blurt out. What the fuck?

Ellie’s smile grew, telling you her answer and it was too late to take it back now. She slid her ass forward a little, knees pressing directly against yours now and lifted her hand slowly, carefully, almost as though you’d spook like a real cat if she moved too quickly. You seemed to blink, and then she was right there, her face so close to yours that her warm breath fanned over your face making your eyelashes tickle at the breeze she created. She clears her throat, eyes just floating up above your hairline and you feel the pads of her fingers gently trail down the backs of your ears.

She lets her knuckles gently smooth back the velvety fur coating, before getting more comfortable — short blunt nails scratching right in that sweet spot behind them. With the ball of her hand gently pressed to your temple as she scratched, you melted. The best way to describe it would be the feeling of sinking into a hot bath after being out in the cold wind, rain and snow. A sheet of goosebumps lined up across your arms and up your spine, your tail struggling in your jeans to curl up in pleasure. There was a gentle humming sound, like an engine maybe… a low rickety wind passing through a wooden floor board…

“Are you purring?” She cooed, and your eyes fluttered open. You don’t even remember closing them. The ghost of an alarmed bullet shot through your body but it just… felt too nice to react. Your pupils were dilated to fuck, it was almost startling to see.

“I guess.” You chuckle, a shudder flying through you, the warm purring sound continuing on. “Sorry.” You offer, but it’s half hearted.

“No, don’t.” She whispers with an impressed smile, eyes pinned by your intense gaze — voice gentle, as if not wanting to break the intimate force field she’d created around the two of you. “You’re so… cute.” She grins enough to show her teeth now, you rest the weight of your head more into her hand, pushing for more scratches now that her fingers slowed down, distracted. Your eyes flutter closed, sleepy and euphoric— and then open once more, a constant battle between wanting to just melt away, and also wanting to look at Ellies beautiful face so close up. She seemed to get closer each time you opened them, eyes drifting from your blackened gaze… to your lips…

Maria’s voice was the last thing you expected to hear in that moment and you both jumped. It was static-y, buzzing, making your head snap towards the radio Ellie had let clatter to the floor beneath the window seat. “Blizzards gone and cleared up now, two of you can start headin’ back now before it decides to pick up again.”

You swipe at the fogged window creating a viewing hole through the condensation, snow settling now instead of batting down hard against the ground. You sigh out, and you’re not sure if it’s in relief of the weather clearing up or the tension breaking — but Ellie seems to be shaking herself out of it too.

“Alright, uh — y’ready to head back out there kitty-cat?” She’s back to her usual self, hopping off the window seat and scooping her backpack and radio off the ground, securing them back onto her person.

“Ready as ever. Can’t wait to go home and nap.” You stretch, now standing beside her waiting for instruction. She sways in your direction with a smirk, raising a brow.

“A cat nap?”

“Are you gonna do this from now on?” You hide your amusement, leaning on your hip. She chuckled to herself, pulling her gloves back on before nodding her head for you to follow — taking off in a casual stride.

“Sorry. Let’s go get Shimmer from the garage.”

You pout, padding along behind her as you think of her stood there alone. “I hope she wasn’t too cold. She was shut in there for ages.”

“She’ll be fine. Old girl’s a trooper.”

SPRING

You didn’t regret telling Ellie, infact you were so glad.

It seemed to have brought you closer, the two of you against the world. The weather had finally cleared of snow by mid April, the green returning to all of nature. She’d helped you accommodate, coming to your home in the mornings and helping you pin your ears down to your head, gently manoeuvring your hair to sit on top of them, inconspicuous. Asking you “Does that hurt?” and “Can you hear?” in a sleepy morning voice. You, on the other hand would sit there trying not to pur at her touch. There was still some bite in the air, especially around evening time so you could still get away with stuffing your tail into your jeans, but the two of you often walked around in the sunshine on the days one or both of you weren’t outside the gate on patrol. Nights were spent having sleepovers, falling asleep cuddling because you know — it was convenient and cold at night time, especially convenient if you were getting up early for a patrol together. Definitely not because you wanted to spend every waking moment together.

You had been curled up reading, relaxed, ready to head to bed in an hour or so when there was a knock at your door. Your ears perked up, and you scuttled out of bed and looked through your peep hole, relieved to find the wind bitten, pink cheeked face of your best friend. You figured she’d just gotten back from patrol, swaddled in a khaki green windbreaker and jeans, hair in your favourite style — half up half down. You swing the door open, ushering her in.

She doesn’t mean to ogle you, but it happens anyway — eyes drawn to your bushy tail shyly curling round your thigh, a hole cut in the back of your pyjama shorts specifically for that reason when you turned around. “Hey you, couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way back to my house. Plus, I got somethin’ to show you.” She wiggles her brows, heading to your room.

“Y’want a drink?” You call after her to which she promptly replies with “Please!” already disappearing into the warm comfort that was your bedroom. Your bedroom, a God damn hassle for Ellie to construct. You had… a vision, and that vision became Ellie’s problem when you’d started to build your little home space. “Els if you see any pink blankets on your patrol today please please please grab me one?” “Ellieeee I need a picture frame, like — a cute one.” “If I don’t get a fluffy throw cushion for my bed soon, I might die.” The list goes on. Her patrols were ever-filled with heavy backpacks, trinkets carefully balanced on top of eachother or stuffed into pockets. She smiles warmly at the memory, walking around your room — taking in each item along with its memory of finding it and smuggling it back into Jackson. Her eyes are glazing over your bed sheets now, thinking about you curled up in the you-spaced shape you’d left on the blankets, thinking about you fast asleep in the night beautiful as ever, thinking about you writhing on them with less clothes on — gross, Ellie — shake it off.

A matted tuft of darkened hair peeped from your mass of bed covers and Ellie squinted, bending over to get a closer look before pinching it with her fingers and lifting it. A clump of hair sat in her palm and she raised her eyebrows. Was that a —

“What you lookin’ at?” Your voice is sudden, lighthearted, right behind her— and she jumps, turning her head over her shoulder to glance at you guiltily. You stand wide eyed and innocent, a glass of water for her clutched in your hand.

“Jesus, fuck — we gonna have to get you a collar with a bell on it or what?” She rolls her eyes, clutching her chest before recovering, taking her glass and sipping as she holds up her findings. For a moment, something twitches in you down below at the thought of wearing a bell around your neck for Ellie. The feeling is warm and homely and disgustingly horny and you feel a little shame. She swallows her water an ‘ah’ and explains “Was just uh— I found a fur ball.”

You look at the clump of hair in her hand, then up at her, then back to the clump — and then you’re moving past her. You straighten out your blankets, revealing a hair brush and hold it up— plucking the ‘hairball’ from her hand and grasping it side by side. “From my hairbrush… doofus.”

Ellie makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth and chuckles, scratching her arm awkwardly after placing down her glass — feeling maybe she’d jumped to a conclusion. This feeling is unfortunately confirmed when she sees your brows furrow, softening in stature ever so slightly.

“Do you really think I’m like… dirty and animalistic? I don’t get fur balls, Ellie.” You sound defeated and just a smidgen whiny, but she’s a sucker for it and grasps your arms gently either side with two strong hands.

“No! I’m an idiot! I’m sorry. Total jackass.” She reassures and you tilt your head, pout turning into a gentle smile. This gives her the green light to move things along. “However, I did get you a little something that might help us understand your… condition a little better.” The auburn haired girl is already shucking off her black beaten up backpack, struggling with the zip for a moment before sliding out a thick hard back book, a manual of some kind. Her eyes are on you, searching for any sign of offence and you catch the title when she spins it around proudly — ‘Caring for your kitty’.

She’s off like a race car with an excited explanation before you even get the chance to breathe, opening it up and flicking through it. “Stopped at that old library today, you know the one we thought the entrance was blocked off and we couldn’t go inside? Well — Jesse found another way in — so I was just lookin’ around, seeing if there was anything interesting and I found this bad boy. It tells you everything you need to know about caring for a cat and well… don’t wanna be a dick but… I’m caring for a cat, kind of.”

As she spoke, your grin only widened — pathetically, and totally embarrassingly so, because it was going against everything you had taught your self. You’d wanted to push this side of you down for what, your whole life? And then Ellie comes along, with her pretty green eyes and her tattoo and her hand veins and her — whatever, and suddenly you’re completely and utterly embracing the fact you’re like, absolutely fucked up, genetically? Crushing on your best friend makes you do crazy, stupid things. You bat your eyelashes at her, regardless.

“You care for me?” It was kind of a joke, but your voice came out softly anyway and Ellie couldn’t look at you because of it, continuing to thumb through the pages, very concentrated, what was that one page again?

“Why’d you think I brought this big ass manual back? Wanna look after you.” She mutters. You soften completely, and she realises that she said that out loud. You look at her, and she looks at you — and then she looks away because God damn, she’s falling in love. “Anyways. Thought we could go through it together. You got those sweatpants I left here? My jeans are like, damp.” She rambles, and you let it slide — though you’re positively floating when you point her to your dresser, pressing the neatly folded grey pants into her arms with a hazed out smile. “Thanks.”

You turn around when she changes. You’re not sure why, she’s wearing boxers — and you have some skirts stashed away that are probably shorter and more revealing (which you unfortunately couldn’t wear due to having a tail) but you look away anyways, out of respect. You clamber back onto your bed waiting for her, and soon she’s sliding up beside you in just her black tshirt and sweatpants, comfy and warm. Ellie clears her throat, sitting up against the headboard and opens the manual for the two of you to check out. “Ahem, caring for your kitty. With special thanks to Juliana.” She reads formally and you giggle, scooching closer until your cheek is pressed to her arm so that you could see the book. “Shout out to Juliana.” She comments, flipping the page.

You snuggle in closer to her, because well — it feels natural. The two of you had always been affectionate since becoming friends and since you’d shared your secrets it had only become more binding. When Joel had comment that you two were literally attached at the hip, it was by no exaggeration. The fat of your cheek pushed up enough to shut one eye as you practically tried to merge with her bicep, warm breath tickling her light arm hair.

“Y’always smell like oatmeal.” You comment, voice sleepy from her warmth and she’d barely even gotten the chance to read anything yet.

Her hand freezes on the page for a millisecond as she acknowledges your statement. “So— wait, oatmeal? That’s gross dude. I don’t wanna smell like oatmeal.” She complains, causing you to lift your head having busted out into a giggle fit. She lifts her hand and sniffs it, looking at you with a displeased expression trying to decipher your observation.

“No! It’s a good thing I like it. It’s just… Ellie smell.” You rub your eye tiredly and she’s fighting every urge not to kiss all over your cheeks at how God damn adorable you are.

“Oatmeal. Great.” She chuckles, shaking her head before nudging you with her elbow — a silent command for you to lay back down on her so that she could read.

And the two of you did, for a little while anyway. The manual was more helpful than the both of you had originally thought, and you came to realise that you had a lot more in common with the animal than you’d had believed. Between each paragraph, the two of you would launch off into conversations and comparisons, Ellie asking you questions about your behaviours and habits. It made your heart swell at how much she truly cared. “Kitten will feel attached to her owner when being scratched behind the ears.” Ellie reads out monotonously, thinking, before reaching up and scratching behind your ears. “To say I’m your owner would be a little crazy, I must admit. Can’t deny you some good old scratches though.” She chides in amusement, watching your happy smile melt into a dozed pur. You can own me, Ellie — God you can —

She read and read and read until you were nodding off, eyes fluttering shut and disappearing off into a dream land as Ellie’s raspy voice trails off, fondly watching you as your lips parted a little, more of your warm weight sinking into her side. “Okay.” She whispered, to no one in particular— and closed the book quietly, stretching to reach behind her and place it on your bedside table, turning off your lamp too.

Ellie was always a light sleeper, maybe she was paranoid or just protective — because she seemed to wake up constantly when she’d stay with you. Not that you didn’t make her feel more relaxed than anyone ever had, because you certainly did. She just… fuck, she didn’t know. She needed to be alert at all times. Just in case.

Tonight was like any other time, stirring at the cooing of a heavy wind outside the rattling windows. Her eyes found the back of your head immediately and settled a little, comfortable and dozed with the feeling of your ass grazing her front and the warmth of your back blanketing her. You slept like two people in love and if she were more awake she’d probably mourn the relationship that was out of her grasp. Too much of a pussy, too much of a risk to ruin things. But this, this she could enjoy in her half awake consciousness.

She was about to drift back off, perhaps a deeper sleep this time knowing that everything is alright and you’re safe from the harsh winds of Spring. Until, she felt a prodding. That was the best way to describe it. Like you were poking her, despite both of your arms being curled at your front visibly. She panicked for a moment, which woke her enough to open her eyes and gaze down at whatever the hell was poking her in the stomach. Your tail.

It curled at the end like a question mark, curious and wandering. She watches, fascinated at how you could be sound asleep and yet your tail had a mind of its own. It knocked on her, like it was asking for entry before it poked lower, lower, Jesus, lower. Without time for her to respond, your tail slots itself between her thighs, curling around and cupping her cunt. She gasps, bringing a hand up that was originally going to cover her mouth, but ran over her own head instead, frozen and unsure of what to do in this situation.

Why was your tail touching her up whilst you slept innocently on the other end of it? She knew you were sleeping for sure because of the quiet snores and the even quieter hum of your pur — making her wonder how she never noticed it before you’d told her about your rarity. Your tail slithered like a snake as if trying to get comfortable, which made Ellie’s mouth hang open as it practically moulded itself to the shape of her. The agile tip of your tail curled around, brushing against the material of her sweatpants all the way up to her clit and she winced, enough to stir you a little. Your tail seemed to go a little limp as you groan quietly, your sleep disturbed. God, what if she wakes up and finds me like this? Her fucking tail getting me off. That’s weird, oh god — you’re a creep Ellie. Move, move now. Jesus.

She spins around so the two of you are back to back, staring at the wall. Ellie clenches her thighs so that your tail can’t slip through them and grope her again, frowning as she squeezes her eyes closed in shame at how good it felt. It was wrong. Wrong and creepy and awful and she hated herself for letting it go on for that long. She willed herself to sleep, repeating those words like a mantra.

The next day you plant flowers together in the community garden. She doesn’t bring it up.

SUMMER

There were certain pages in the manual that the two of you would skip. It was too awkward, too intrusive — pages you would separately read in your own time.

If you don’t get your female cat spayed, they’re going to go into heat. How exciting! And if you’re experiencing kitty in heat for the first time, you’re probably wondering: how do I cope with this? Dealing with a restless, frisky kitty may seem like a challenging task, but it’s not nearly as difficult as you may think. We’ve outlined plenty of quick tips and suggestions to help calm your cat down in the short term, as well as some solutions to prevent heat in the long term. In just a few minutes, you’ll be able to give your loving furball the support and respite she needs during this tough time.

Ellie snickered when she read it the first time, a night where you’d fallen asleep at her house, curled up on the end of the bed by her feet. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, it just happened — trying to give yourself space on the particularly warm evening. Not everything in this manual applied to you, like you’d insisted plenty of times — you’re mainly all human. Despite the purring, you hadn’t felt you’d demonstrated any feline-like behaviours (Ellie disagrees strongly, but can’t bring herself to argue.) That night she had sat up later, reading about cats in heat — wondering if… you’d ever… what would she do… no, Ellie. Stop.

When summer had approached, something had flipped. Things were normal until they weren’t— and at first you could blame it on the weather, the serotonin flooding everyone’s systems from the influx of Vitamin D, being able to wear less and enjoy more. Days seeming longer. Life seeming better. You’d grown more affectionate with Ellie, not fighting the urge anymore to be touching her at all times. Gently sinking your teeth into her freckled skin when you felt the urge, wrapping your tail around her leg when you’d stand side by side in your kitchen, clambering onto her lap with the manual and urging her to read some more so you could get sleepy and comfortable and fall asleep on top of her. You saw the way people would look at the two of you around Jackson together, they thought you were together — and you didn’t mind — even though you weren’t. Just two super close best friends.

When the calendar had rolled over to July, things seemed to intensify by ten. Things were changing, urges growing stronger. You couldn’t control yourself purring when Ellie would simply enter the room, kneading your claws into your seat of the canteen area pulling up threads, needing to be near her. Practically vibrating the floorboards in total bliss when she’s give you a friendly, subtle ear scratch in public being careful not to unpin your ears. Saliva pooling inside your mouth with the urge to lick her all over when she’d arrive to your home late at night after a rough patrol, ready to crawl into bed beside you and surrender herself to your grabby paws hands. Wanting to pounce on her when she’d greet you by the gardens, knuckle knocking gently beneath your chin with a friendly “Mornin’ kitty-cat.” Worst of all, the growing neediness you’d succumb to each night you weren’t together, mewling as you’d grind against a pillow pretending it was her thigh, soaking the sheets. You were starting to accept that you were experiencing your first ever heat.

You particularly enjoyed summer evenings in Jackson. The air was was balmy and warm without the scalding, overwhelming sunshine like there was in the day. Most if not all citizens would be in the town centre at movie night or the bar — which created a perfectly calm and empty landscape for walks. It was one that day, the one that’s about to unfold — that you were particularly dazed. You felt high, sensitive, walking on air. You wear a bell around your neck now, a giggly patrol gift from Ellie — something that tinkles quietly and could be confused with simple jewellery to the untrained eye. It sounds each step you take, a comforting noise that was special to you and your best friend. Your summer dress grazed above your knees, and due to no one being around, you didn’t quite care that your tail would occasionally peak out when a warm breeze would pass through.

You stroll past the flowers you and Ellie had planted in spring, stroll past the empty playground with the wooden climbing equipment that you had to continue walking on from to not give into the urge to dig your aching claws into. Your mind was set on finding Ellie — Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, who’d supposedly just be returning home from patrol. As expected, nothing quite getting past your astute cat wisdom — there she stood, facing away from you in just her adorable oversized white tshirt, greenish brownish greenish flannel and long baggy denim shorts. Your whole body felt hot and the sight of her, heart pumping and palms tingling. Approaching slowly, you hear her quietly talking to Shimmer as she undresses her of her equipment, occasionally stopping to give her affectionate pats and love. Ellie was always good with animals.

Figures.

You step closer, alerting Ellie of your presence. “Here kitty.” She smirks, continuing to remove Shimmer’s saddle before turning over her shoulder, eyeing you briefly.

“How’d you know I was here?” You swoon, dumb smile on your face as you step up to her. Probably too close, but something inside of you was clawing to be able to smell her, be able to feel the warmth radiating off her body. She doesn’t react to the proximity, just lifting a finger and jingling the bell at your neck. You fight a shudder when her coarse fingertip grazes the soft skin of your neck.

“Hard to miss you. That bell was definitely a good investment, you’re not sneakin’ up on me anymore, huh.”

She continues tending to Shimmer as you watch, a fond smile on your face.

“How was patrol? ‘Missed you.” You tug at her flannel sleeve for attention and she chuckles good naturedly, rolling her eyes.

“Wasn’t gone for that long, was I? You’re always missing me lately. Is somethin’ up?” She turns her head to you again inquisitively, concern flashing through her eyes — as well as the stream of bright light from the sunset through the crack in the barn wall. She squints.

“Uh…” You sigh out softly. Yes. I need you. I want you. Come here. Fuck me. “No. I dunno.” You shrug, forcing yourself to look away, defeated. No, you’re here for a reason. “Can you come over tonight? Sleepover?” You realise you’re still clinging to her sleeve and she’s letting you, her eyes drifting to the way your hand slides downwards and catches her hand, intertwining your fingers. You know, just best friend things.

“Jesse asked me to hang out but…” She started, but trailed off when you became all fluttery lashes and bambi-eyed. “Fuck it,” She breathes. “I’m too tired for his shit today anyway.”

You grin, successful and tilt your head. “Not too tired for my shit?” and she scoffs, squeezing your hand.

“Never.”

She steps back, your joined hands bridging the two of you still. Her eyes are trailing down again. That little sundress, she hadn’t seen that before. Maybe hanging in your closet, but not out of the house. Her eyes dip lower and she sees a flash of fur swinging behind you, jostling your dress. Her eyes widen a little. “Hey.” She emphasises, nodding her head down. You’re still staring at her, at her freckles and the way they’re shaded from the sun — a halo of bronze and natural flush.

“Hm?” You sing. She furrows her brows.

“Your dress is short.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“What? Uh— fuck, I mean, yeah — but I’m saying other people might see your…” She nods again in gesture, nervous.

“Tail?” Your fingers trail up her flannel sleeve a little.

“Yeah. People might not be as… open to all that, babe.” Babe. A slip up, usually — usually said when she wanted to soften the blow, or when she physically couldn’t stop the affection from meeting her lips. You preened at the word anyway, didn’t even bother to hide it.

“No one’s around.”

Your claw traces the blue green vein on her pale wrist. You don’t remember it coming out, these days it seemed they just did it on their own. She winces at the light scratch, but she lets you anyway. Just ogling, wide eyed, a little confused and a little turned on — which confused her all the more. She silently begged herself, get a grip.

She tore her hand away, hoisting her backpack off her back and swinging it around — damn near smacking you in the face with it. “Got you a present. Know you like those.” She rushes out, sounding a little out of breath like she’d been running. You liked it, liked that you did that to her. You’re smiling and she’s like, ignoring it — because she knows you know you flustered her and that’s not like Ellie. Not like calm and collected Ellie Williams.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.”

She digs around, pulling out a black rectangular VHS tape. Hard to come by, but always a delight seeing as you had a TV facing your bed in your room that refused CD discs and would only play grainy tapes. Ellie turned it in her hands, displaying the white tape across the front that read in someone unknowns Sharpie’d handwriting ‘Disney Aristocats’

“Think it’s about cats. Thought it would be funny.” She chuckles humbly, her ‘you hate it. fuck my life.’ thoughts kicking in as expected.

“We can watch it tonight!” You grin, gently taking it from her — clutching it proudly in your hands. She relaxes, shoulders unstiffening.

“Cool. Uh, yeah.” She nods, scratching her scalp which made the half-up-bun bob at the back of her head. She looks at you, and then looks around, and then back at you. Always back at you. “Alright. Let me go home and shower, you go set everything up and I’ll be round soon. Just… get outta here, before anyone sees you. Yeah?” Ellie exasperates, softly clapping two hands down on your shoulders and spinning you around, carefully nudging you to start walking away.

“M’kay. See you then, Els.”

“See ya, trouble.” Eye roll. Or maybe her eyes just rolled back at the sight of you swishing away in your little sundress. She’s not sure.

You were stood in front of the mirror when the door knocked. Your heart jumped — like you weren’t expecting Ellie to even come for some reason — but more so because you wasn’t sure you could get away with pyjamas this skimpy. You wanted to seduce her, sure. But this was just obscene. You wore, what essentially was just a long tank top. It fell mid thigh, flimsy and thin, showing every curve and dip and plumpness to you. You didn’t ever feel insecure around Ellie, no — but she might just call you a slut.

There was no time to change, so you ran and got the door, feigning confidence. Something was… different about the way she was stood there. Her hands were in her jean pockets awkwardly, like she didn’t know what to do with them. She’d actually cleaned up surprisingly, wearing her jeans and off white wifebeater. She somewhat looked like she was trying, but maybe that was all in your head. She didn’t look you in the eye either, thick brown lashes fluttered slightly as her eyes jumped down you in segments. Tits, then tummy, then hips, and then tail. The sight of it flapping about freely made her usher you inside quickly, always aware of the risks.

“Hey furball, y’ready to watch the movie?” She clears her throat, looking around your house like she’d never seen it before. Nervous? Something else?

“Told you not to call me that, doofus. But yes, follow me.” You giggle, and that’s all you seem to do around her these days if not purring — constant girlish giggles tumbling past your lips at the slightest joke. It bordered on pathetic.

She enters your room with a chuckle, like — the type that says ‘you’re so fucking cute.’ in Ellie’s voice, if you can imagine. You’d set the movie up, the screen buzzing with static playing old timey music with the start up screen for the movie awaiting the two of you. You’d rustled together every blanket and cushion you could get your hands on to create some kind of nest for the two of you to get all cuddled up in, and even more than that if your plans went how they should. It smells like you in the room, and Ellie wants to stand there and breathe in so hard her ribs crack from the expansion just to inhale you in completely. There’s no time for that, because you’re ushering her down on the bed. It’s almost horny just from the way you push her down, both hands on the warm skin of her freckled shoulders — your smooth and grabbable thighs between her legs. “Get comfy. But not too comfy. You always fall asleep when we watch movies.”

But how could she fall asleep when you’re dressed like that? In your natural form, wearing so little and showing so much. Her palms felt like little ants were inside her skin, running around like their tiny heads were on fire — or maybe it was just the hand static from not being able to touch your electric skin, to graze her coarseness over your smoothness and hear the sizzle of you up against fingertips. She wanted to hold you by the back of the head, take all your weight, all your thoughts, all of you.

But she was here to watch a movie, like a good best friend. And if that’s what you needed that’s what she’d be.

Turns out trying to seduce someone into scratching the itch that’s been aching you for weeks was harder than expected. How were you supposed to initiate this again? Hadn’t you thought about this time and time again, written about your dream scenarios of getting down and dirty with Ellie in the middle of your diary where no one would look if they’d found it and opened it up? You’d practised this, time and time again whilst you fall asleep — or whilst you’re fucking your hand, or whilst you’re staring at her profile idly whilst she sits and draws. God, how do you make the first move?

You’re staring at her whilst this rackets your brain, and you don’t realise how shamelessly you’re gawking at her until she side-eyes you, a fond little smirk daring to grace her features — it was audacious how cute she was. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

She’s practically handing you the opportunity. Your skin burns, body pressed to hers. Her arm is wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you propped up laying back on your bed and it’s all set up perfectly. You could say a million things, you could push your weight up on your elbow and reach up and kiss the side of her rubied lips. You want to slot a hand right between your thighs there and then, relieve yourself, show her what she’s done to you. The mess she’s made out of you.

You squeak out a “Nope.” despite all of this.

You keep planning and rehearsing, not concentrating on the cat movie anymore, that’s for damn sure. Who was that old lady again? What was that cats name? Who cares. You’re staring, syncing your breath to hers. You think yourself to sleep, cheek pressed to her collar bone and soft snores. Completely unsuccessful, but there’s always next time right?

When you wake up a few hours later things feel different. You’re not touching Ellie anymore — Hell, she could be gone for all you know. But you’re feverish, throat dry and prickly. Your skin is broken out into goosebumps despite the heat, your thin tank top dress completely stuck to your skin and sheering from the pure amount of sweat drenching you. What the fuck? Were you sick? You’re panting, aching but not all over — only in your… you reach down, half awake and feel your slick coating your inner thighs, pooling your cunt. You felt feral.

Your eyes shoot open now, because — well, you can’t be doing that. Can’t be touching yourself like that with Ellie right there. The room is glowing blue, and you locate the TV screen causing it. The movie is gone, finished, and the screen is on a standby channel, quiet and staticy as it alights the bedroom. You turn to Ellie, because you need her suddenly, feeling like you’ll burst into tears or cum without touch, whichever comes first and you don’t know why. Any shyness has left you when you turn, spinning onto your hands and knees to touch her and shake her awake.

She’s laying on her front, her wifebeater having ridden up a little to display some of her back. Her arm hugs her pillow, and you don’t remember her being that sculpted — her arms, the ones that hold you when you hug and lift the heavy gates on patrol. You reach out and touch, and then grab, and then you shake her awake. “Els, Ellie please.”

It doesn’t take her much, she’s a light sleeper as mentioned before. She panics a little, flipping onto her back when she hears your trembling, whiney tone. What’s wrong? What happened? She’s reaching for you before her eyes are fully open.

“Hey, wha’samatter?” She croaks, one eye squinting shut in the bright blue glow. You go to tell her but you just whisper her name again, and again and you just need her to touch. Your hand grabs her arm again and she sits up fully, eyes widening a little as she wakes up properly. “Hey, talk t’me.”

“Look at me I’m—” You whine quietly, gesturing to your fevered appearance but you feel like you don’t have time to explain. You have no sense of patience or shame when you scooch closer, hands sliding over her shoulders so your foreheads are nearly touching. You look deranged and her cunt twitches.

“I need you Els. Somethin’ is going on with me and I just... I don’t know but I need you.” You beg. Jesus, she must be having some kind of wet dream.

“What? Uh— you — need me how?” She stutters, and she feels like a fuckin’ idiot because where was the suave flirting skills and pizazz she promised herself she’d have when the day came that you finally asked her to touch you? Let her have you? Her stomach clenches in cringe but she barely has time to overthink it because you’re moving impossibly closer. Your tits are practically spilling out and Ellie’s palms are sweating so much that it makes her insecure.

“Think somethings wrong with me, think I’m in—”

“You’re in heat.” Your words overlap and the two of you are whispering like there’s anyone else in the house that might overhear you. “Yeah, uh — shit man, I read about it in the book, you know? I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d be able to… whatever. What do you need? You need some water?” She’s rambling, needing to think carefully about her actions. She didn’t wanna take advantage of you when you were so vulnerable… was this like, weird? Not because you’re her best friend — no, this has been Ellie’s long game since you met — but because of the whole… feline thing.

“No I don’t need water Ellie, I just want you to help me. It… it aches.” You cry miserably, dropping your face into her shoulder defeatedly. She smells so good, just like her — like Ellie, but so much stronger than usual, your senses heightened by ten. It weakened you, feeling this out of control. You sniffle, rubbing your nose into her top and she rubs your drenched back — sympathetic.

“Is it because it’s like… a full moon or something?” She asks quietly and your brows furrow in annoyance, pushing yourself off her to be face to face again.

“M’not a werewolf Ellie.” You pout, and her lips twitch up into a nervous half chuckle, relaxing a little as she reaches up and smoothes her thumb between your brows. She sighs. And then laughs quietly.

“I know that.”

The two of you look at eachother for a moment, a silent conversation in the place of what should be confessing feelings. You feel like you take the first step when you glance at her lips, and she returns it by glancing at yours. The looks get more eager, and your bodies thrust closer, and you kiss.

You wished it was romantic, like you’d planned for months. But it’s needy and eager and you’re panting and whining within thirty seconds of having her tongue glide against yours. You’re lucky that Ellie is just eagerly going with it, happy to be there. You didn’t wanna make her uncomfortable or come across as forceful — but that didn’t seem to be the case at all, especially not when she let out a little groan at the feeling of of you sinking down pointed teeth into her bottom lip.

She topples back when you lean into her more and you’re clambering onto her lap, thighs shaking. You hear yourself before you realise you’re not kissing anymore, instead whispering “Please, please, please.” against her lips with your eyes screwed shut as you grind your soaked cunt onto her jean covered one. Where you’d usually make a comment about her sleeping in jeans, you pant — and she lets out an embarrassingly loud, wide eyed groan at the feeling. The zipper digs into both of your clits from either side.

“Fuck, fuck okay.” Her hands hover, and she doesn’t know where to grab first. This is happening, God this is really fucking happening. She blushes at the thought of her dorkishly pinching herself, just to check it’s not some super torturous vivid dream as her hands float before just pawing at your back, pulling you closer. Closer. Need her closer.

You shuffle back in the dark, hands fumbling for that zipper that you’d made warm and wet through your cotton underwear and tug it down so harshly you think it’s gonna come off. Buttons get unpopped, and fingers get tucked into a waistband before you’re yanking down. Ellie’s getting whiplash at the speed you’re moving, eyes flickering across your desperate and pained expression. Fat tears sit beneath your eyes as you mutter the word ‘closer’ again, an inkling of relief when you pull her jeans down to her mid thighs revealing soft black boxers.

You sit on her again, and — that’s it, that’s the friction you wanted. You can feel the raised, round mould of her pussy through the material and she gasps when you grind down onto her, forcing herself up onto her elbows, eyes rolling back a little, hands gripping your thigh creases as she stared down at your white underwear smushing itself into hers in the dim light. You’re whimpering (and so is she for a moment), hips jerking forward and Ellie genuinely doesn’t know what to do with you. It feels so fucking good, but she feels like she’s not stepping up the way she should. She wants to take control, make it all better for you like she always does.

“Fuck, okay babe. Chill, okay? Mhpm, I got you. Let me help you. S’what I’m here for right? Lay back.” She whispers, and leans forward again to ease you backwards and like she can’t help it, presses another kiss to your lips. You both freeze, because this time it has feeling behind it. That’s also what you needed, you needed her to take control. You relax for a moment, letting her roll you onto your back barely breaking apart the kiss.

When she pulls back, she strokes your hot cheek with her thumb — staring into each others eyes. Hers are still beautiful and vibrant even in the feverish blue light, glancing all across your face with concern and fondness etched into her features. “Kay?” she speaks, tapping her thumb to your cheek for a response and you nod, huffing out a breath. Okay. Try to calm down.

She kisses the corner of your mouth, which trails inevitably into the crook of your neck, her swollen lips sucking the slippery skin with a hum. Your fingers are bunched tightly into her shirt and her jeans are still below her ass from your dry humping craze. You take some deep breaths, and she hears you — outwardly appreciating your efforts to be calm. “Thats good, keep doin’ that.” She whispers when you push air out of your mouth shakily, and the praise makes your legs fall open limply.

“You gonna let me help you out, pretty girl?” She kisses the centre of your chest and you mewl, body vibrating with purs as you nod. “Tell me, please. I’ve uh, I’ve waited so long to hear it.” She sounds nervous in the sweetest way possible, making you even in your haze reach out to comfort her, pushing her auburn strands out her face as she looks up at you pleadingly.

“Please help me Ellie, want you to touch me.” Your voice is jumpy from your shudders, and it transfers to her — your eyes just catching the way she trembles a little from adrenaline in the dark.

“Alright baby, I got you.”

Hearing her call you baby like you’d always hoped she would makes you heave out a sigh, pushing your hips up into her body weight trying to relieve yourself somehow. She shushes you, distracted by the feel of you beneath her palms now as she drags them down your body. Her thumbs swipe across your hard nipples through the thin material of your pyjamas and you mewl again, arching into her hands.

“Gonna make you feel better, promise.” She whispers but it feels more like she’s talking about you and not to you so you try to keep quiet so that you can just observe. She’s sliding down the bed ‘til she’s practically half off it, pushing your dress up to press fond kisses to your tummy. It feels right, like it’s something she’s been doing for months despite it being her first time down there. It’s Ellie, your Ellie. You can’t think of anyone you’d be in better hands with.

“Never,” kiss. “Had,” kiss. “Someone down here,” kiss. “Before have you?” She drags her lips downwards this time, gripping the meat of your thighs and spreading them. You sigh out a whimper and shake your head, embarrassed by how needy you were for a flash of a second before getting lost in your lust again. She whispers out an ‘Th’sokay’ against your hipbone as she pushes your thighs open before pulling back — taking a look. Her tongue wets her lips at the sight before her, eyes adjusted into the low light now to see how you’ve completely soaked through your underwear — lips fat and wanting through the material. Ellie let’s out a breath she was unaware to be holding, forefinger stroking through your covered folds with a glance upwards to make sure it was all still okay.

“God damn.” She comments, and you know what she means — she probably didn’t know it was possible to get this wet.

“Take’m off, please.” You whimper, writhing your hips around growing impatient once more and she nods frantically, peeling the cotton down your body making you hide your face in your arm when your centre clings to the fabric.

“So ready, huh.” She whispers, hot breath fanning over your bare cunt now. She breathes out a barely audible chuckle as she strokes the side of her finger across the small curled tuft of pubic hair that sat on your skin.

“Yeah, b—been ready for you Els. Wanted this for so l—ong.” You can’t stop trembling, and perhaps it was your feverish chills or the fact you were so excited to finally have your best friend in the way you’d wanted her.

“Yeah?” She cooes, but she’s barely listening — both thumbs pushing the fat of your lips outward, spreading you for her viewing pleasure. “Been hiding all this from me? But it’s so pretty…”

You sniffle, and she takes that as her sign to dive straight in — tongue flattening against your exposed clit and flicking upwards before dragging her lips down through your quantity of arousal. You moan, barely able to hear yourself through the loud purs emitting from you and buck your hips against her face.

You knew Ellie had experience, from the gutwrenching stories she’d tell you about her escapades with her ex girlfriend Cat (Funnily enough, actually her name — a foreshadowing all things considered.) But you’d figured it was just fooling around behind the barn, or maybe when Joel wasn’t home as the two of them used to share a residence. You didn’t expect her to be so… ravenous. If you knew that the girl sat beside you for so long could eat like this, you might have felt more inclined to approach her for help a little sooner.

The room was filled with obscene sounds, the sound of Ellie’s mouth ministrations which can only be compared to noise that belonged to stirring buttery pasta — mixed with her low moans against you because apparently you tasted that good. This was also mixed with, but not overshadowed by your desperate cries and purs as you pull her head further down into your crotch, panting up against the ceiling praying for release.

You hear yourself cry for “More!” and as if the thought had already sprouted for your best friend, her middle finger immediately pressed in against your hole — applying pressure and massaging that warm spot — a challenge for it not to slip right in given how wet you were for her.

“Can give you more. Lemme in, babe.” She murmurs against you when she finally sinks it in, sucking on your clit as means to get you to loosen up around her — which in hindsight wasn’t her most clear-minded idea as you only clenched harder. Ellie, much to your dismay removes her mouth for a moment to sit up on her elbow a little higher. She blows over your clit, smacking a wet kiss to it before looking up at you seriously — finger frozen only a little way in. Her free hand comes up, wide palm stroking across your lower stomach soothingly. “Gotta relax. Don’t wanna hurt you and you’re tight, babe. Relax.”

This side of Ellie made it difficult to not challenge this by clenching even harder. You could tell there was still an element of nerves to her, not wanting to fuck it up — but it just came so naturally to her to look after you. You push a shaky breath out through your mouth in a small ‘o’ shape, eager to make her proud again like before and focus on unclenching, her thumb on the connecting hand softly stroking your clit up and down to assumably aid you in this. “Good job, that’s it.”

She smiles when she returns her mouth to your folds, absolutely ecstatic to get back in there. You would have giggled at this if you weren’t so worked up, placing all your concentration into keeping loose for her and letting her press her finger up into a delicate spot you hadn’t discovered before. You jerk, briefly clenching again as her gaze snaps up to you— free hand coming back to smooth down your hip and ass, calming you. “C’mon babe, this is gonna get y’there. Help me out here.” She whispers and you try for her again, letting her press up into that toe curling devastating place. The bed rocks with movement, the same feeling you get when you’re half awake in the back of a moving car — and you glance down to realise it’s Ellie, and she’s fucking humping the bed, grunting against your pussy with her nose smushed to your clit. You feel the tears welling, and something turning like cogs in your stomach. Your orgasm approaches, but it’s only at the precipice of your cunt— the ache reaching much deeper and you panic at the idea of being left unsatisfied despite your deep lust, Ellie’s touches only making you ache more.

“Els, Ellie w—wait I’m gonna, let — wait I can’t it’s not — s’not deep enough I need more, need more it’s too —” You’re suddenly crying out, pushing yourself up with a look of absolute devastation on your face which is so sobering that she pulls her fingers out of you completely — pushing her self up at crazy speeds to meet you half way and cup your face.

“Babe, you’re panicking. Just talk to me, tell me what you need I — I can give it to you. Breathe.” She whispers, lips brushing your own as she attempts to comfort you, swiping away the tears leaking down your cheeks still. Your lip curls over, puffing out and wobbling as you suck in a quivering breath.

“More— just need to be… fucked, need you to fuck me, need it deeper.” You wail and she shushes you again, her slender hand coming back down to just cup your cunt in a way that made you dizzy, an attempt for her to comfort you and hold you in a way that you needed. Your eyes squeeze shut and tears moisten your lashes, feeling guilty for asking for such things, unsure if she can really give it to you. You didn’t want her to feel bad.

Ellie bites her lip in thought and tastes you. She did have that one thing… though she hadn’t actually used it before. It was a harness, a thick purple dildo lodged into the centre of it — stashed in a shoebox and shoved under her bed with crimson cheeks and clammy hands. She’d found it on patrol, and figured it could be useful one day maybe — a vision of you taking her with an arched back and her hips slamming against your plush ass making her wince and cup her cunt through her jeans in that very sex store. She had something that could help, and she had to push her pride aside to offer.

“Got something I can fuck you with. It’s… literally for that purpose but uh, it’s back at my place.” When she see’s the way your eyes light up with hope she’s jumping up, yanking her jeans up back around her waist, fumbling to do up her zipper as she continues to stare at you for permission. “I can run, be back in literally five minutes — do you want it babe? I’ll be so fucking fast you won’t even know I’m gone.” She’s not sure who’s begging who anymore, because since handed the opportunity Ellie has become obsessed with the idea of finally getting to fuck you good and proper.

“Yes j—just be fast, Ellie please be fast.” You mewl weakly, dropping back against the bed. She gives you a once over as she stumbles for her shoes, pulling her Converse on at a speed you didn’t think was possible and roughly tying laces. She’s out the door before you know it, leaving you to your own devices.

It feels like hours when she’s gone and you slip further into that dream-like, hazy space you’ve been fighting since she’d laid hands on you. Without her touch, the ache began to settle deep into your centre again — skin on fire and sensitive to the touch. You felt like you were being burned from the inside out without her there, rolling around on your sheets attempting to find comfort and coming up unsuccessful. The arch in your back only opened your cunt wider to the balmy air, and your nipples grew sore quickly from rubbing up against your bedsheet. A bead of sweat rolls between your tits.

Ellie’s feet hurt from the speed her Converse would slap the concrete of Jackson’s town— sprinting her way through the 4AM streets on a mission to bring you the equipment to satisfy your urges. Her heart thunders when she reaches her place, dropping her keys and swearing to herself as she fumbled to get the door open. She doesn’t bother closing it behind her when she runs inside, wood creaking beneath her heavy steps to sliding down on her knees beside her bed, reaching her hand along the dusty floor to find that shoe box. She finds it, muttering a borderline deranged ‘There you are’ before sliding it out, popping it open just to check it’s still there before slamming the lid back on and tucking the box under her arm, heading back to you.

You know she’s back because through your daze you hear the door shut and her loud high-pitched grunt of exertion, the image of her doubling over in your hallway to catch her breath coming to you almost like a prophetic vision. The ache worsens as her footsteps draw closer, her voice strained and out of breath as she calls out to you. “I almost — Fuck, almost ran into Jesse on the way to his early patrol. Saw him and, had to take a detour behind someone’s house cos’ he would have asked what was in the box and like — I can’t just get it out and show him…” Her panted words trail off when she re enters the bedroom, eyes falling on your desperate state once more.

It was a blow to her heart, seeing you so worked up. You were completely naked now in just your collar, brow slick with sweat and body practically glowing. Your tail curls around your thigh self soothingly, ears pointed high and alert. Your back arches painfully as you drag your hands down your thighs. You sniffle, defeated.

“Can’t even touch myself n’make it better cos my claws won’t go back in.” You shake, dragging your hands down your thighs desperately. Your sharp claws catch the delicate skin leaving long thin marks but you don’t even seem to notice. Ellie’s brows furrow and she rushes to you, sitting beside you on the bed and taking your hand in hers, looking at your clawed fingertips.

“Hey, don’t… don’t do that. M’here now. Can look after you yeah? Let me just…” She struggles for the box and pulls out the clattering harness and toy. You’re distracted for a moment as you watch, intrigued by the contraption that she’s pulling up her jeans and fastening at her hips. When she’s done, a purple plastic cock stands proud in the centre of her crotch, and your mouth practically waters.

It was animalistic, truly — and a little embarrassing the way you grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. She even had the nerve to stumble a little bit, her back bouncing against the sheets as she scrambled to get comfortable and you crawled onto her lap. You press your lips to hers again like she’s your life line, letting out a muffled moan because you missed her. She’d been gone for five minutes and you’d missed her. You knew she’d tease you for that if it were any other time, but this time was like no other. She groans against you too, her hand cupping up to cup the back of your head and hold you there. You couldn’t get enough of eachother, all this waiting was finally paying off.

Your thighs shake around her as you wrap your hand around the dildo, sitting back as you can rub it up and down your slick a few times, collecting it’s juice. Ellie sits up a little, watching with wide eyes. “Jesus. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.”

Her words send a surge of need through you again and you push the fat tip against your hole, adjusting so you can sit straight down on it. She winces for you, hands hovering above your hips. “Careful you haven’t taken anything bigger than my fingers before it’s gonna—”

You groan, melting into her as you sink down all the way. She’s right, it does hurt — and you’re frozen, laying against her shoulder hiccuping and quietly sobbing at the stretch. It’s way too much, but — it scratches the itch. Dulls the ache inside. You could power through this.

Her voice is gentle when she speaks, hands slowly coming down on your back to rub soothing circles on your clammy skin. “Hey.” She leans back a little, tilting her head trying to get a look at you. “Look at me, baby.”

You do, because how could you not — blinking big wet, eyes at her in the dark. She wipes away some tears with her knuckle, brows frowned and concerned. “You gotta be careful. Okay? I don’t… I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t.” She admits, and it seems to carry more meaning than what she’s letting off in the moment. Your doe eyes well again, fist curling in her wifebeater and then loosening as you try and calm your jerky breaths. She slowly reaches down until the pads of her fingers meet your clit, engorged and pushed out from the way your cunt is stretched open around her. She rubs it in light circles, softly — making you preen into her touch. The pain of the stretch lessens and you can’t help but grind down.

With each grind, you become more frenzied — picking up the pace as you chase the feeling you’d been after. You’re moaning over the sound of your pussy squelching around her and all she can do is grab onto your ass and help you, eyes all over you. “Fffffuck, babe — look at you, takin’ it so well. Who taught you how to fuck like this huh? Thought I was your first?” She chuckles, breathless from your incessant bouncing and grinding.

“You are, Els — m—my first and my only, don’t wanna fuck anyone else ever again.” You whine, so loudly it can probably be heard from outside but who cares — not when she’s got you like this. This worked up and needy for her. It was something from her wildest dreams.

“Yeah? Wanna be my girl?” She grunts, your grinding aiding the harness in hitting her clit just right with each movement. With all this time spent helping you, Ellie hadn’t realised how pent up she was.

“Yes, m’your girl Ellie, m’your girl you — you own me!” You admit, and it seems things go a little quiet at the confession. You clench hard, burrowing into her shoulder as she processes the words. Ellie hears an incoherent ‘More’ again, and her body goes on autopilot — feet sliding up to press flat against the bed. She holds you still, arm across your lower back and pins you to her whilst she fucks up into you fast. She grunts at the feeling, and you cry. With each bounce she forces out of you, your bell collar jingles humiliatingly.

Ellie can’t seem to keep her hands in one place, leaving your back to feel the way your tits jump with each movement caging them under her hands. “Yeah, baby? Like that?” She cooes and feels you nod frantically into her, nothing but mewls and moans able to leave you. You’re gushing over her strap, walls spasming trying to suck her back in each time she draws back — Ellie feels like she can feel it herself.

“Y’own me. M’all yours forever Els.” You babble like you’re trying to keep yourself awake, alive, conscious whilst Ellie fucks up into you like it’s the last chance she’ll ever get.

“Yeah? This all mine, sweet girl?” She cooes, and finally you feel it — the hint of a knot in your stomach, the orgasm you’ve been chasing — one that resides deep inside you, the ache that felt like it could kill you, soon to be soothed by Ellie herself.

“Yes! Yes! Mphm, g’nna cum on your dick!”

Her dick. She’d never thought of it like that before. The words leaving your mouth sparked something in her, and suddenly she was the feral one. Her jaw clenches, strong hands pushing and tugging and rolling you onto your back. You gasp at the feeling of her cock sliding right out to the tip at the jostling, tits bouncing as you lay back on the bed. You looked vulgar and improper and so far from your innocent self, and Ellie couldn’t help but feel that maybe this was all on her. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone into heat if the sexual tension between you wasn’t so strong. What had she done to her sweet best friend?

You stare up at her with doe eyes, and she stares back for a moment — lips parted, jaw squared and eyes dark. This was the Ellie you’d needed.

Her hands slide up the backs of your thighs and push your knees up to your chest, pressing her strap deep inside of you. Her breathing is erratic, hair falling into her face as she thrusts in and out at a punishing pace, the tip of her cock nudging your cervix just right. It’s almost too much to take and you turn your head with a weak mewl, sound punched out of your lungs. She doesn’t let you, grabbing you by the jaw so that fucked out your eyes stayed on her own glossy ones.

“Yeah that’s right, look at me. Stay right here with me.”

“C—can’t.”

“You can. Be good, c’mon, j’st keep taking it, angel.” She moans and your toes curl. Needing her as close as humanely possible, your hand curled around the back of her head tugging her to your lips. You feel her arm pressed between the two of you, giving herself just enough space to toy with your clit as she groaned against your mouth.

You detached, unable to keep up with the kissing as you wrapped your arms around Ellie’s neck — and she was okay with that, focusing on her thrusting to get you where you needed. You squeeze extra hard with a pained mewl, every one of your moans met with a cooed ‘Yeah?’ or ‘That right?’ until you were actually finally cumming.

You’re not aware of yourself when you actually do, feeling like water was being thrown over the fire that was your body all whilst igniting another at the same time. The sounds coming from you were…a lot. Purs and squeals and moans and squelching, nothing left to do but to let Ellie ride it out for you, telling you how good you are for letting go. You hear her wince and it brings you back a little, realising you’d been scraping your fangs along Ellie’s bare shoulder — drawing thick beads of blood.

You pant, and she stares down at you with a clenched jaw as you calm your self, recuperating after that Earth shattering orgasm given by your best f— you couldn’t surely still be calling her that right? After all that?

Your eyes focus, puffy lips smeared slightly with the blood you’d drawn from Ellie’s skin and you heave out a whispered apology, trying to blink back your concentration which was proven difficult with her strap still seated deep inside you the way it was.

“S—orry, got carried away I didn’t mean to.”

She goes to shrug, but the air is then punched out of her lungs as you lean forward a little, looking at her with pensive, wide submissive eyes before flattening your tongue against the wound and cleaning it up. She watches, still not having said a word before she’s gently grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to lay flat again. Her hips shift, a slow experimental grind rolling out from her hips as she watches you. Your brows furrow, jaw gaping at the sensitivity as you grab at her strong arms in a slight panic. She takes your hands and pins them down in a soft and loving way.

“What’you doin’ Els?” You sigh out almost in one breath, and that’s when she leans down and presses soft kisses to your cheek once more, her hair tickling your nose, wanting you to feel the love radiating off her.

“Makin’ sure it’s all out your system. You’ll let me do that, yeah?” She mutters, still breathless and you whine in response with a vicious nod. “Good girl.”

Your thighs, which you hadn’t realised had tightened around her hips loosened and fell open, your tail pushing out from under you to absentmindedly tickle your own skin. Maybe it was for comfort, self soothing you through the pleasurable pain of your overstimulation.

Ellie picked up her pace a little, her movements different from before— long and lengthy rolls of her hips making sure to graze every wall inside of you. “How’s that? That make you feel good?” It’s an earnest and honest question, genuinely wanting to know but you tip your head back, controlling everything in you not to hurt her when you dig her claws into the fat beneath her ass now — trying to pull her deeper inside since she’d let your arms out of her pin.

“Feels so good, Ellie. Y’look after me so well.” You whimper, one hand reaching up to push her hair out of her face and she blinks at you a little off guard— preening at the praise a little. “My strong, clever Ellie. Always doin’ what’s right f’me.” You whine, and it seems the praising is turning the both of you on as her brows knit, lips parting just a little as she grinds harder in a way that rubs her good down below.

“Okay, okay fuck.” She chuckles when she catches herself, which only makes you bite your lip and spread yourself wider for her. The angle hits your gummy insides yet again in a way that you just couldn’t handle and your legs are jerking, eyes squeezing shut as you ride out another soft orgasm — letting her pleasure herself inside of you.

She keeps going, and keeps going, and keeps fucking going until you’re all fucked out — Ellie’s boxers soaked and the strap shiny all over from your releases. The sun is starting to come up through the blinds making Ellie squint tiredly when she rolls you over back on top of her, your thighs splayed either side of her body — plastic dick still burrowed inside of you.

She lets out a sigh of exertion and a gentle ‘Alright’ when she tries to carefully lift her hips, trying to get a good grip on the base of the dildo so she could pull it out of you but you whine, clenching around it selfishly as you smush your cheek against her — fucked out and senseless, already half asleep. “J’st keep it… keep it inside, please. Just for a little while.”

The sentence makes her heart tighten a little and she just nods, letting herself fall back and relax into the soft pillows more, hand opting to instead lazily trail up and down your back until the movements were halting with her journey into sleep— drifting off to the visions of your beautiful face, and the memory of your kisses against her lips.

She’ll ask you out officially tomorrow. For now, she could just enjoy the peace that you brought her.

#ellie williams au #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou2 smut #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #hybridkitty!reader

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shadowdaddies · 10 months

Note

Hellooooo 🫶🫶

I have another request if that's alright :)

Can you do one where Az meets his mate in an Illyrian camp but she's pregnant with another males baby(a male she was basically sold to by her family like a forced marriage) and he finds the guy and beats the ever loving shit out of him and whisks her away to the House of Wind and just worships her? But can you make it like soul crushingly angsty?

Thank you and you don't have to if you have to many reqs rn 🫶🫶

whew this is a long one and tbh it could've been a whole series. It's quite angsty but with a very fluffy ending. It's a different writing style for me so idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy it💜

New Hope

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings: depictions of DV/abuse, some suggestiveness, non-sexual nudity

The first time Azriel saw you was in Emerie’s clothing shop. You had convinced your father to take you to her store for your engagement dress, an agreement he begrudgingly made in exchange for your cooperation in the marriage.

You were browsing through the fabrics, eyeing a lapis blue silk piece when Azriel entered, the cold air rushing in behind him sending a shiver down your spine. The door closed, yet the breeze continued, whipping around you erratically. Confused, you looked up from the fabrics to see a blushing shadowsinger watching in horror as his shadows swarmed you, dancing and weaving through your hair and clothes.

The giggle that left your lips at the scene made Azriel’s heart leap in his chest, the male breathless as he was struck by the sight of the most beautiful female he had ever seen. When you turned to face him, the shimmering fabric in your hand reflected the light in your eyes, and time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as a thread in Azriel’s chest snapped, and he understood who he was looking at. His mate.

Just then, your father grabbed your arm, drawing you out of the moment as he tossed the blue fabric to Emerie, declaring that it would be sufficient for the engagement dress. Azriel’s heart sank in his chest. Of course the cauldron would have him meet his mate when she was already engaged to someone else.

It was then that the shadowsinger made the decision - that as long as you were happy with your husband, he wouldn’t interfere. However, after that day, Azriel found himself inventing every excuse to venture to Windhaven, just to see you and make sure you were okay.

One day, you approached him in town. He was shocked that you recognized him, both of you unaware of the draw that you felt towards him.

~~~

The marriage was loveless. You knew that your husband didn’t truly care for you from the moment you met, but it was an advantageous arrangement for both families that you be wed. It broke your heart to learn that you would be married for anything other than the love you dreamed of as a little girl, but you clung to hope, and believed that you and your husband might learn to love one another over time.

That never happened. After the wedding, a new side of your husband revealed itself. At first, he shocked you by raising his voice, making callous and cruel comments - but that was nothing new for you as a female in Windhaven. Life was lonely, often times you found yourself crying silently until you fell asleep, terrified as your husband became increasingly aggressive, and sometimes violent.

It was one day that you poured the milk out of the window at home to give yourself an excuse to head into town for more, when you saw Azriel. You had noticed the shadowsinger around Windhaven far more over the past months, and you were grateful for his presence. Although you didn’t know him, seeing him around gave you a sense of calm that you couldn’t describe - the world was a little less lonely. Unsure of what invisible force was guiding you across the street to where he stood, your feet acted of their own accord as you found yourself standing a foot away from Azriel.

“Hi, Azriel,” you greeted, a pleasant smile on your face. Despite the freezing temperatures, the feeling of those shadows dancing through your hair brought you a joy like you had never felt before.

Hazel eyes widened as the spymaster looked at you with surprise. “You know my name?”

You giggled, the sound like music to Azriel’s ears as you nodded. “Of course, everyone knows who you are.” You didn’t include how often you had thought of him since that day in Emerie’s shop.

The two of you started up a friendship after that. The highlight of your day was when you were able to escape your husband, finding your best friend in town - the male in the shadows who always made you feel seen. Azriel was kind, unlike any other male you had known, his warm smile always making you feel safe.

And then you were pregnant. You cried, unable to find the energy to leave your house for days when you learned you were going to have a child. Growing up, dreaming of having a family of your own, you never envisioned that it would be like this. Your husband came home from the tavern to find you crying, smacking you across the face with the back of his hand. When you cried harder, he hit you again. The tears only stopped falling when your vision finally faded to black, and you lay unconscious on the floor.

You awoke the next morning, pain radiating throughout your body. The glance you dared in the mirror wasn’t necessary to tell you how you must look, but it was confirmation. Dried blood trailed from your nose, black circles under your eyes from the pressure of how hard he hit you.

Silver lined your eyes, but tears would not fall. A new sharpness edged your expression, mirroring the resolution you felt inside. This male would never make you cry again. You quickly left the house, headed towards Emerie’s shop in desperation for help. You didn’t care what it would cost you - your child deserved a better life than Windhaven.

~~~

Azriel almost fell to his knees when he saw you for the first time in nearly a week. He had accepted the fate that you no longer needed his friendship, that you were happy with your husband. But when his shadows whispered to him that you were injured, cobalt siphons glowed as the shadowsinger barely leashed his concern.

A lump formed in Azriel’s throat when he took in your appearance. The scarf that you had pulled over your nose to cover most of the bruises didn’t disguise the scent of your blood - or your pregnancy. He hardly registered that you were carrying that male’s child, his main focus on what happened to you.

His heart might burst at how your eyes lit up when you noticed him in the street - how you ran to him, your body so small compared to his as you wrapped him in a hug. That bursting heart shattered when he heard your wince as he hugged you back. “What happened to you?” Azriel murmured, deathly quiet.

You swallowed, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes that had turned his world upside down that day in Emerie’s shop - those eyes that now seemed so hollow, missing the life they once held. Unable to find the words of last night’s events, you could only manage to tell Azriel, “I need to get my baby out of here. I can’t... my husband will never be near this child.”

The venom in your voice as those last words left you told Azriel everything he needed to know. “Do you trust me?” You nodded, still clinging to Azriel as tight as you could without hurting yourself. He pressed a kiss to your hair, wrapping you gently in his arms. “I’m going to get you to a home and a healer.”

~~~

No sooner had the words left his mouth than you found yourself engulfed by shadows, spirited away to a cozy living room in a large, warm home. “Welcome to Velaris,” Azriel whispered, gently turning you around to face the view of a beautiful city unlike that which you’d ever seen. The sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pinkish hue across the sky and you thought you must be in paradise. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to clean up.”

Azriel took your hand, helping as you slowly climbed the grand staircase up to a luxurious bedroom. It was tidy, with a massive bed and a seating area around a hearth, a crackling fire casting a warm glow over the room. The space smelled like rain and cedar, and you realized that you were in Azriel’s bedroom.

Grief hits at the worst times, and in the strongest waves. And it was grief - for your old home, for your child’s life with a father, for any hope of what you dreamed your life would be - that overcame you as you crumpled to the ground, sobs tearing from your body as Azriel knelt in front of you.

Finding the courage to look up, you found hazel eyes watching you with a tenderness that you had never felt before, and the breath left your lungs as the cord snapped in your chest. Azriel let out a noise between a laugh and a choked cry as scarred hands held your battered and bruised face. “You... You’re my mate?” The words left you in little more than a whisper, the hope behind them more dangerous than you could allow yourself to feel.

With a soft smile and a somehow softer touch, Azriel brushed the hair that had fallen into your eyes, tucking it behind your ear as he nodded. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t intervene as long as you were happy, but I will be here for you. As a friend, or whatever you need. I am yours, and I will care for you and that baby as much or as little as you want me to be. I am here for you.”

His words ignited something in you - a hope that the love and the family that you had dreamed of was possible. Without another thought, you pulled Azriel into a searing kiss, his eager reciprocation the validation you needed as you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment. You pulled away, forehead resting against Azriel’s as you breathed, “I want you. In every way, I want you, Azriel. You are the best thing in my life, and I don’t want to part from you.”

Azriel’s smile was brighter than the sun. “You have me,” he whispered, “and I will spend the rest of my existence loving you.”

You couldn’t tell how long you stayed there, holding each other on the floor of the bedroom before Azriel dared to interrupt the moment. “I have a bath ready for you in the other room.”

Looking to him with mock offense, you gaped. “Are you saying I smell, shadowsinger?”

The laugh that left his lips fueled you with enough joy for years to come, Azriel leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “Not at all, but the healer, Madja, is coming soon, along with Rhys and Feyre. I thought you might want to clean up before Madja tends to you, and I will bring you some clean clothes.”

Azriel helped you up, the male respectfully looking away as you undressed and stepped into the tub, immediately relaxing your aching muscles. You giggled at his propriety, reveling in the twitch of Azriel’s wing at the sound. He cleared his throat, announcing that he would wait in the other room when you winced.

Azriel whipped around, his eyes wide as he searched you with concern. Giving him a weak smile, you slowly lowered your arm that was reaching for the soap. “I don’t think I can wash my hair myself. Would...you be able to help me, Az?”

He swallowed thickly, giving you a slight nod as he mutely moved behind you. You laughed slightly at his obvious nerves. “I’m not shy, Az. Don’t worry,” you promised. He seemed to relax slightly behind you as his hands lathered your hair with soap, gently massaging it into your scalp. You bit back the tears that threatened to spill as you realized no one had ever taken care of you like this in your life - instead reaching your hand up, Azriel meeting you halfway as he held it, lowering to press a kiss to the bruised skin.

Angling your head back, you looked up into those hazel eyes, pulling on his hand in silent request. Azriel leaned down to kiss you softly, but you wanted more, deepening the kiss as you pulled him further. Azriel stumbled, catching his balance as he almost fell into the water.

He chuckled, sitting back up to rinse out your hair. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he scented your arousal, shaking his head at the smirk that played on your lips. “As much as I would love to pleasure you right now, Rhys just informed me that they are almost here.” He walked around to the side of the tub, crooking one finger under your chin. “And when I do make love to you, I plan to worship you until my body gives out.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the promise, your mind struggling to stay focused as you took the towel from Azriel and stepped out of the bath. You got dressed, sitting down on the bed just as a knock sounded at the door. The High Lord and High Lady entered, waving off your attempts at formality as the healer introduced herself.

The High Lady - Feyre - as she insisted you call her, stayed with you the entire time as Madja tended to your injuries and checked on the baby. Azriel stood in the corner with Rhysand, the two males talking in hushed tones.

Madja cleared you and the baby, giving you several tonics to take for your injuries and told you that she would be back in another week to check on you and the baby. Feyre and Rhysand didn’t linger long, Madja insisting that you needed the rest and that the “chit-chat” could happen later.

You patted the space next to you in bed, inviting Azriel to come sit, and laid your head on his chest as you let your eyes drift shut. “Az, what were you discussing with the High Lord? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You felt him tense behind you for a moment, silence hanging in the air as Azriel seemed to weigh his words carefully. “Rhys has been made aware of what happened to you, and we’ve made sure that those responsible will not be responsible for any further pain, to you or anyone else.”

As understanding dawned on you of what Azriel meant, you were surprised at the lack of sorrow you felt for your husband and father. Rather, you felt a deeper peace for the first time in your life, as both you and Azriel brought your hands to rest on your womb, a silent promise that your baby would have a better childhood than you had. That together, you had a renewed hope for a better life.

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boxofbonesfic · 4 months

Text

Title: Brave [8 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve struggles to lead the pack after their losses.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore

A/N: whew, two updates so quickly? maybe i’m getting back to my old ways (hopefully). i really hope you all enjoy, and as always, reblogs and feedback of all kinds are appreciated and always welcome! thank you! mind the warnings ❤️

It is another four days ride before you see the sun again, briefly, the shimmering circle appearing for an instant between the black, roiling clouds. It is a pale shadow of its former self—much like the pack. You number so few now that even you are aware of the stark, bare place that has been left behind by the fallen. The thick cord of riders had once stretched back into the grass sea like a formidable chain, and now it is only frayed and fragile thread.

In the distance, the storm rumbles as if in reminder of what lies behind.

You can still pick out the outermost bands of it; dark spiraling arms set against an even darker sky, stretching back the way you had come for uncountable leagues until it fades into the horizon. The earth is still pitted with its fury.

Steve rides at the front. He presses forward with a persistence that leaves even the pack struggling to keep his pace. He has spoken little since the pass, regarding all but the most important of tasks with grim disinterest. You have not stopped riding since the first night, since the fire, and you wonder if he intends to allow the pack even a moment’s respite. A single rider breaks away from the loose formation, and you recognize Carol’s choppy braid from the back as she steers her horse away and forward, falling in line with Steve.

You do not quite know what possesses you to follow suit—you bear no rank, no true role in this pack—unless you count being the spoils of war, and you do not. But you follow suit, steering the horse with your knees until you’re close enough to catch snatches of their conversation over the wind.

“We’re off course. You know that. We haven’t seen the stars in days, brother.”

You watch the muscles in Steve’s back go rigid, and you imagine his hands tightening on the reins. This is the first time you have ever seen anyone come even mildly close to reproaching his decisions, and you can tell that Steve takes the incursion with as little kindness as he can manage.

“Kez fin tor tuzor ugani.” You don’t understand the harshly uttered, guttural syllables, but you do understand the way his lips curl back from his tusks, and the sharp points gleam white in the midday-gloom. Carol doesn’t back down, nor does she shrink away, regarding him as calmly as ever. Steve scoffs at her.

“We will find our way.”

“But will we find it before water runs out? Or food?” She gestures behind her at the pack, dutifully marching along behind them. “They need time to rest. Time to grieve.” She seems to hesitate. “You need time to grieve.” At this, Steve whips around to face her, his teeth bared.

“Tread carefully.”

“As should you.” Carol grimaces. Dry grass rustles and snaps beneath the hooves of your horse. You wince, staring down at the reins as you will the earth to open beneath you to save you the embarrassment of your eavesdropping. It does not, and your face warms as you shoulder the weight of their respective gazes.

“How kind of you to bend your ear, Sweetmeat.” Steve says dryly, his lips pressed into a thin, unamused line. His icy eyes fall to Carol, who looks no happier than he. “I suppose you, too, have words for me?” Suddenly, you are aware of how exhausted he looks, the way it lines his features, pressing down on him with almost physical weight. Carol is right, you cannot help but think it. He does need time to grieve. You flounder, your mouth opening and closing as your face heats.

“O-only that w-we—the pack, I mean. They’re tired, like Carol said—”

Steve looses an irritated growl, raking a hand through his sandy hair.

“Let me speak plainly, little human. There is law, here.” His blue eyes are dark, angry. He looms over you, even on horseback, and your skin prickles. In the weeks since you had been taken, you’d almost forgotten what it was to fear him, to see the predator wearing man’s clothes, speaking man’s language—almost.

“Should you choose to challenge my law again, Sweetmeat, you will know the price for doing so—and you will learn that it is dear.” He inhales deeply, licking his lips like he can taste the scent of your in the air, before digging his heels in below the saddle, and turning the horse sharply away.

“We ride until nightfall.” The command is so loud it carries out over the grass sea, vibrating in your bones like thunder. Steve narrows his eyes at Carol, and then you. “Then we wait for star-sign.”

—

The persistent ache in your legs and back from the days and nights spent in the saddle are enough to make you wince as you swing down from it and plant your feet firmly into the dirt. Your face still stings with heat from Steve’s admonishment, and as the rest of the pack begins unsaddling and setting up camp, you avoid him as best you can, setting up your bedroll on the far side of the fire. As you’re laying it down, Carol clears her throat behind you.

“I should thank you,” she says, sighing. “He mightn’t have stopped if I’d been the only one.”

You grimace, your expression souring. “You heard what he said. He sounded like—” You pause, biting your tongue.

“Bucky.” Carol finishes it for you, and you wonder if all orcs have such an innate sense of brazen impropriety or if you have been simply blessed to meet them all in this particular raiding party. “He… Steve was chosen. Dethak. To lead us, to lead this pack. He feels responsible.”

You scoff. “He couldn’t have known! The storm, the, the…Zhat?”

“Zhut.” Carol reaches out to press her fingers around your mouth as you attempt to imitate her, unyielding even when you flinch. “Yes.” She nods when you have repeated it satisfactorily, but then her face falls as she is reminded of the pass.

“And… yes.” Carol sighs. “He could not. But would you not feel responsible? Burying only the idea of your kin?” She pats your shoulder, and then tugs aside what remains of your sleeve to look at the wounds bandaged beneath. “Let’s get these cleaned, shall we?”

—

It’s past dark by the time you shoo Carol away, gritting your teeth as you reassure her that you know how to change the dressings on your own. She’s worse than mother. You shrug back into your dress’ single remaining tattered sleeve, regarding it with only a moment’s worth of regret. It is the last thing that remains of your home. It’s fallen into ragged disrepair, now, The bodice shredded down to the under-layers, your legs visible between the surviving strips of cloth that now form your skirt. Once, you would have been terrified to feel the grass trail against the skin of your calves for fear of being stoned for your wanton sin—but no one remains in the village to cast stones at you now.

You’re sitting down on your bedroll when you feel him, your skin prickling as Steve approaches you. You have never been quite so aware of anyone before, but Steve’s gaze always makes the hair at the back of your neck prick up. He clears his throat.

“I would speak with you, Little One.” You clamor back up to your feet, your cheeks stinging. You prepare yourself for more harsh words, staring hard down at your tightly clasped hands. “I would… apologize. For my words.” You can tell he does not enjoy humility. “You spoke against me out of desire to protect the pack, and for that I cannot fault you.” You peek up at him from between your lashes.

“I admit did not look forward to your punishment.” You reply, and he snorts.

“Ah, we come to the truth of it. Stubborn, aren’t you?” Steve chuckles deeply. “With an attitude like yours, Sweetmeat, I expect you knew the village stockade quite well.” Your cheeks flush with heat, but it doesn’t stop your lips from pressing into an irritated line as you glare at him.

“This is a rather poor apology,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you glare back toward the camp. A fire rages at the center, and the scent of cooking meat is carried over by the cool breeze. You turn back to him, and something akin to lightning zips up your spine as you find him staring at you.

“Then I am sorry for that, too.” Commotion draws both your attention.

“Look, sky!”

“I see sky!”

You look up. The air above still swirls with misty clouds, but it clears with each passing moment, starlight pricking through the black. In the village church they told you that those were Halith’s eyes—thousands and thousands of them, gleaming like diamonds in pitch. The eyes through which she looked down upon the world, through which she would cover it in her light. But you did not feel Halith’s presence in the church, and you do not feel it here in the grass sea.

Your mother had told you they were something else—other places, other worlds. Other lives, and when you died, you got to go up into the sky and see them, one by one forever if you wanted.

Your father called it heresy.

“What are they to you?” You ask, and he hums. “The stars.”

“The ones who came before.” It is the first time you’ve seen the sky clear in days, since before the pass.

“Like heroes?” You ask, and Steve shakes his head.

“Not quite. Those who have done right by the people, by the clan—they rest there.” He points. “That, there? It is the handle of an axe, is it not?” He asks, and you tilt your head, squinting.

“I suppose?”

“It is Molroch’s axe, the blade that split the sea so that the grass could grow.” It is as though the hard years melt from his face to reveal the boy beneath. “He led the people well.” There is a sour note you can taste in his praise.

“It’s not your fault. What happened in the pass—you must know that. It isn’t.” You do not realize you’re touching him until you are, your hand brushing the skin of his arm before you snap it back.

For uncountable seconds, the only sound is the shifting of the grass around you. Steve turns back toward the camp, his large hand warm on your shoulder.

“You should rest.”

“You should too.” He does not answer you, squaring his shoulders in a way that tells you that the conversation is finished, at least for now.

to be continued…

next chapter

#chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #cevans #chris evans #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #orc!steve rogers #marvel fic #dark fantasy #marvel au #boxofbonesfic #brave fic

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starscabaret · 4 months

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College Student Athlete Yandere! Elizabeth Gets Jealous ✧.*

pairing : yandere! elizabeth x fem reader

summary : Lizzie fucks reader in a jealous possessive rage after she catches her flirting with the other team after a tough loss

authors note : this is lesbian elizabeth is a girllll

warnings: nsfw, established relationship, Crying, rough, dramatic, dub-con, strap-on, smacking…just whew

You stood around defeated on the court as the other team and fans cheered and celebrated around you. You joined Lizzie at an away game. Her team should have won, they were predicted to win. But the game turned sour when the referees seemed to favor the opponent. Lizzie’s team had lost. You were upset but even more upset for Lizzie as you knew what the game meant to her. The game had just ended, and she joined her team in the locker room with no time to talk to you. You were waiting for her to come out of the locker room so you two could return to the hotel room and relax for the evening. You stand around with a group of friends and family of Lizzie’s teammates when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Uh hey! You’re Elizabeth Moore’s girlfriend right?” a player from the other team smiles down at you.

“Yeah, I am…” you state a bit puzzled.

“We saw you on her Instagram and were wondering if we could get a picture with you! You two are the cutest couple!” She asks enthusiastically. It’s only now you notice the rest of the other team standing behind her.

“Aww, that’s so sweet yeah sure!” you reply, you’re a bit shocked people know of you and Lizzie. But you can’t say no to all these nice girls.

The girl that approached you hands her phone off to someone nearby while you and the girls start to move around for a picture.

“You two in the middle!” someone shouts.

You stand in the middle surrounded by these giant women a bit intimidated but flattered as they gush over your relationship.

Due to the severe height difference the girl beside you, the one that approached you, leans into you resting her elbow on the top of your head you all laugh because it makes for a funny shot.

The person with the phone is snapping multiple photos. You get distracted enjoying the girl’s humor and posing for the photographs, so you miss Lizzie exiting the locker room and coming onto the court to look for you.

That is until you see her standing behind the cameraman looming over them.

“y/n come here please we are leaving.” Lizzie glares at you, with her jaw clenched gripping her duffle bag tightly on one hand.

“Sorry Moore, just had to borrow her for a second!” The girl beside you says causing all of her teammates to laugh.

“Of course, Lizzie, let’s get back so you can rest.” You say scurrying over towards her, eager to make her feel better about the tough loss.

Oddly Lizzie doesn’t even reply, she just heads for the exit.

“Bye ladies, nice meeting you all!” You shout running out of the gym after Lizzie.

At the hotel, you are lying in bed in your pajamas as Lizzie takes a long shower. This was typical of her after any game, so you have no worries. That is until she comes out. Long blonde hair slightly wet, completely naked except for her favorite strap-on.

“Oh hi, babe.” You whisper just assuming she was feeling frisky as usual.

“Don’t hi babe me y/n. You know how I get about you.” She replies with a glare.

“Huh? What’s wrong? did I do something?” You question.

Without replying she makes her way to the edge of the bed grabbing your ankles once her shins hit the bed. She pulls you to the edge of the bed throwing your legs open revealing the panties you wear under your t-shirt. She moves her large hand down between your thighs gripping your whole mound.

“This is mine. You are mine.” She says while looking you in the eye, and moving her hand so her thumb is pressed against your clothed opening.

“Yes, I know.” you gulp nervous as to what is bothering her but also too aroused to ask again.

“You weren’t acting like it today. Why the fuck were you taking pictures with them? I saw her arm on you. I saw you giggling and smiling at their lame-ass jokes.” She glares at you while pressing her large thumb even deeper into your opening, creating a damp spot right where she pressed.

“Uh I, they just asked for a picture, Liz. “You breathe out.

You feel her hand pull away from your pussy. you almost whine immediately for her touch to return. But you don’t have to before you can blink, she lays a stinging slap to your pussy over your panties.

“You think I care about that?” She huffs grabbing your jaw to look at her.

Before you can even answer her question her hands are at your hips pulling your panties down.

“I don’t, all I care about is this right here. You. You know that. They only did that to piss me off you know. Losing the game, we should have won and then putting their hands on you, my love? Oh, that was the cherry on top. Next time we will win. I promise you that. But for now, you need to learn something.”

She rants while still looking you in the eye while sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What is it, Liz?” You ask fully obedient and ready to calm her any way you could.

“You’re mine, no one else’s. Ever. I don’t want those girls or anyone touching you like that ever again. Or I swear to God y/n I will hurt them. Now sit. Obviously you didn’t believe it before, so ill fuck it into your brain.” She speaks against your lips grabbing your hips to lift you over her. placing your thighs outside of hers with her cock between your legs.

Already so obedient and eager for her cock you reply, “Yes mommy.”

You have no trouble sliding yourself to the base of her length. Her possessive nature had softened and moistened your warm cunt. Even though you hate to admit it.

Once your clit meets her strap, she grabs your hips using her strong hips and arms to bounce you on her strap. After just a few bounces you feel as if she is going to split you in half. You moan aloud almost drooling at her pace.

“Yeah, look at you, you’re getting it now good girl.” She coos as she continues pounding and massaging the walls of your pussy.

But it’s not enough for her. She has to continue drilling it into your head. You are hers, and no one else’s. Her frustration from losing the game combined with her intense emotions at watching you interact with the opponent drove her insane.

She moves her hands from the tight grip she has on your hips, which she is using like handles to fuck you like a toy. Her arms make their way around your torso pulling you flush against her with her face breast into your breast. She continues her pounding by thrusting her strong hips into you. Rutting and moving the strap into your hole like she was opening you for the first time again.

“Mine, OK? You promise?” She asks into your chest fervently moving her mouth around to suck bite and nuzzle her face into your boobs.

“Yes, Mommy I promise.” You throw your head back shouting willing to say whatever you needed to for her to keep fucking you on her cock. Also to appease the dark urges you knew she had at seeing you with others.

Lizzie still in a possessive jealous frenzy kept fucking you causing you to scream and moan out. Your clit hitting the base of her cock, your hole full of her, it all became too much. You were going to cum soon.

Too cock drunk to notice earlier you feel tears against your chest as Elizabeth’s face is pressed against it. Still full of her strap you look down at her and she’s crying.

“Liz what’s wrong honey?” You ask lifting her face to look at you.

But she doesn’t stop fucking you. She speeds up her pace widening and opening your little cunt even more.

“Please y/n, don’t leave me. I love you. I’ll take care of you. I’m all you need ever.” She chants as she continues lifting you up and down her strap like a toy. The desperation and tears in her eyes make you even wetter as she fucks her devotion into you.

“I won’t Liz, I won’t ever.” You respond as tears well up in your own eyes from her emotions and the aching stretch of her cock inside you.

She notices your orgasm building up. To make sure her message was heard she flips you onto your back shoving her cock deeper into you as she leans over you.

“I know princess, I know.” She chants whilst grabbing your jaw and fucking you to an orgasm. Your arms wrap around her holding her close, calming the shock waves running throughout your whole body.

She doesn’t stop after your orgasm; she continues slowly rutting into you with her sore body. Giving all that she has even after exhausting her body during the game.

Once she becomes too tired to thrust into you anymore, and you are thoroughly fucked, and the bed is covered in your juices she doesn’t pull out. She keeps her strap in you and lays all her weight on you heavy breathing and kissing into your neck.

You are too cock drunk to try to clean yourself. You rest and let her lay on top of you controlling and owning your body, in the way that she pleases.

Both exhausted from the day’s events you too fall asleep with her strap still stretching her pretty pussy.

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alluralater · 8 months

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thinking about that time a girl was strapping me so fucking well with my legs pulled up around her waist. deep consistent strokes and kissing me at the same time. at some point my mind just fucking broke and i felt this wave of pleasure roll through me, like i was not cumming- it was something totally different. and when it happened i reflexively shot my hand out on instinct and wrapped my fingers tight around her throat above me. immediately when i did it my eyes snapped open and i put my free hand on her side to stop her. i started apologizing because we hadn’t talked about choking yet and i told her that had never happened before and i'm asking her if she’s okay because obviously i'm worried, telling her that was super not okay of me to do and we should stop. this woman looks me dead in my fucking eyes, and LAUGHS at me. she goes, “do it again.” then proceeds to start RAILING me before i can even ask if she's sure. whew- what an afternoon

#ssgarlicbread #can you believe this kind of sex was happening at 1pm on a fucking tuesday??? the way it went on just gave me such weekend vibes if that #makes sense like you would think each of us had NOTHING to do the next day with the way she fucked my brains out and left me a dripping mes #i ended up cancelling a date i had for the next day because ya girl was SO sore #btw when she did start railing me my eyes rolled back and i lost all feeling in my fingers #so she had to bring my hand up to her throat and she just kept laughing at meeeee #like bro what the fuck it was SO hot #i came maybe two minutes later and then six more times over the next few hours

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herejusttosufferalong · 1 month

Note

Pancake anon here.

Whew, where to even start! It has been a week.

At this point, I think I'm just as confused as the rest of you. However, I do have some theories. Take all of this with a massive grain of salt.

I do personally believe N's song posts are about L. I can only see a few reasons she would post these so publicly.

She genuinely just likes the songs and wanted to share

They are a message to someone who she can't communicate with readily

They are a message to the fandom

N has admitted she is chronically online. She is also incredibly smart and calculated about her decisions and what she allows the public to see. Finding songs that are so clearly about love and sex and sharing them "just because she likes them" makes no sense for N. Especially right now after all the speculation from the press tour and backlash L got after the pap walk and beyond. She knows what everyone will read into them and there has already been so much chatter around her love life for her to post songs like this willy-nilly.

If she wanted to share them to communicate with someone it would have to be with someone she can't easily call or text. Yes, she is a millennial and using songs to express your feelings is a core part of this generation. However, see my previous point. She wouldn't do this publicly unless she had a very good reason. And I personally think not having an open line of communication is one of the reasons. But I don't think that person is L. I actually think it's a message to A. More on this in a moment.

Which brings me to the last point, that the songs could be meant for the fandom. I believe this is also one of the reasons. They were meant to share with the fandom that she is in love. Who is the fandom going to automatically think/hope they are about? Of course L. And these songs are incredibly L/N coded. So if she wanted to let us know she was in love and it wasn't about L, I truly believe she would be more deliberate in how she shared this information so it wasn't misinterpreted. She's also protective over L, and she wouldn't want to send that attention to him if it wasn't meant about him.

Which brings us to the topic of A and the friend group. It has been eerily quiet from everyone (except T & C) since their return from Italy. T & C seem to be business as usual but everyone else disappeared. It feels a lot like pre Italy when we all thought something was going down. I still think it was. My gut feeling is things were tense with L&A between GQ & Italy but somehow got settled enough for the Italy trip. Upon returning, my guess is things soured again. Not 100% sure I can pinpoint what exactly the issue is, maybe it have to do with DM, but I don't think it really matters. The silence is deafening amidst all the very loud break up rumors and N's social presence this last week.

Okay, so here is my delulu gut feeling for what is going on. Again, HUGE grain of salt here. I 100% recognize I could be reading everything wrong.

The Italy trip and pictures being published was a bit of a breaking point for N. Not in a "sad girl moping over not being with L" kind of way. But in a "Fuck this, I'm not waiting. I'm going after my man" kind of way. I think something snapped and she decided she decided she was going all in to let him know she wanted to be with him and also let A (and L's other friends) know that she isn't holding back. Cue the shade of the CW birthday post, the scrabble board, possibly the shirt photo (though I'm unsure my thoughts on that at the moment), and most importantly the songs.

The first song was such a deliberate choice. A song about a conversation on the telephone from someone you haven't heard from in a while is definitely going to trigger fans to speculate about L. And even if that wasn't her intention, we know she saw it is what everyone's reaction was. But she chose to leave the song up for the full 24 hours. Then 48 hours later, she decided to double down and post another song that has all kinds of messages about knowing someone very well and there not being any pretense. Almost as if she was confirming our suspicions, because what could be more L coded than that?

The silence from A after all of this was shocking and very telling. N was poking the bear, and the bear was not responding. Even if N did not intend all this about L, the fandom was going crazy, and to remain silent for so long during these situations is not her norm.

Which brings us to current events and rumors about Cyprus. Is/was L there with A? I honestly don't know and I go back and forth on it. On one hand, the rumors are based on two tweets from accounts that went private. One account is speculated to be from a Balkin country. But I do think A is either there right now or was there recently so it's very possible he was too. In truth, I honestly don't think it matters if he was because, again in my delulu gut feeling, sometime recently N has decided to make it very clear to L that she is in love with him. She decided to stop waiting for him to be passive in his relationship with A and just go for it. And I believe she's letting us and A know that this is happening. I don't think she would so confidently do that if it wasn't moving in the direction she hoped.

I honestly wonder if, and lean towards the idea, A is in Cyprus without L because things are ending and she's getting some family support and maybe doesn't really have a place to live right now. I know some people also speculate she is there for a job and this could be needed if things are ending, but I haven't seen clear evidence of that yet. However, her post yesterday is showing me that she isn't going to go quietly and she is going to continue playing games and try to rile people up. I think we might be in for a rough few weeks if any of this delulu is correct.

So that's my 2 cents for what it's worth. I will say, I have also had a roller coaster of emotions this week as many of you have. I go back and forth on a lot of things. But I keep bringing myself back to the last few stops on tour and how obviously in love with each other they were. The way things went in Galway with N's family and the "I will wait for you" song following that stop. And I can't get past the certainty that N is very intentional with what she shares and knowing how fans will interpret it.

Cheers WH patrons as we approach rough waters ahead.

💜🥃

#this is all opinion #timelines #theories #merely speculating

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sturnsjtop · 4 months

Text

stupid fucking dare

you and matt are fwb and on a boring night you guys decide to go to the beach to relax but a stupid little thing you dared him to do was probably not a good idea.

Your thoughts

Third person pov

Friday, 10pm

Y/n pov

Me and Matt have been bored out of our minds for an hour now. Even tho we fucked 2 times today we weren’t really in the mood for a round 3.

I’m chilling on the couch next to him as an idea pops in my head.

“Wanna go to the beach? Just to chill or whatever”

He looks at me and nods “yeah I guess we could go”

Friday, 11pm

We’ve been playing a game “truth or dare” and he dared me to eat sand. What’s up with this kid?

“Come on your turn ask me” he says calming down from his laughter after seeing me choke and spit the sand out.

“truth or dare, bitch.”

“I ain’t a pussy, dare.” He says smirking at me

I laugh. “Oh you’re gonna get it.” I smirk and look around “I dare you to go over to that girl” I point to a random girl “and ask her to hook up but if she agrees just tell her it was a joke or something. I don’t wanna see you fuck other girls.” I say giggling.

Matt glances over to where I pointed and looks back at me smirking

“Whew a nice dare, huh? Alright then, wish me luck. I’ll make you proud.” He says as he stands up and smirks at me while walking up to the girl

She wasn’t far away so I could hear perfectly what they were saying

He stands in front of her taking in her appearance. She was really fucking gorgeous.

“Hey girl. You look mighty lonely down here. Mind if I join you?” He asks trying to keep his charm and ‘confidence’ and hoping to pull it off

The girl glances up at Matt, giving him a flirty smile as she takes in the sight of him. A slight look of appreciation in her eyes as she sizes him up. “Sure handsome, I don’t mind at all. What brings you here to me?”

Lord help me I’m cringing at the sight of this. Come on Matt do this quick and come back.

Matthew manages to maintain his composure, flashing a smile and sitting down beside her. “I just saw a gorgeous girl all alone and I just couldn’t resist coming over to keep you company. A girl like you deserves a man who’ll treat you properly, ya know?” He says taking her hand in his and gently kissing it.

Ew, what the fuck Matt? You don’t know where that hand has been. I look at them shocked as I’m waiting for him to up and end to this torture and do his fucking dare.

I mean the dare was not flirting with her, just asking to hook up. Maybe I’m jealous but what is he doing? He doesn’t even know her name.

Matt takes a moment to chat with the girl flirting back and forth feeling almost a rush as he takes her in, her beauty drawing him in. His breath growing slightly more shallow as he looks at her, feeling a sudden pang of warmth go through his chest. He can’t help the strange feeling for this random girl as his mind begins to wander but when he remembers the dare he snaps out of it. He shifts slightly and looks at her.

“So.. doll.. I’m in a bit of a predicament. What would you think about helping me out a bit?”

The girl looks at him, her eyes widening at the words. She purrs out a response “Sure thing handsome… what kind of help do you need?”

“Just a small favor..”

Matthew what the fuck are you doing? Ask her to hook up, tell her it was a joke and fucking leave.

“What do you say.. we go somewhere more private and… you know.. I’ll show something you wouldn’t wanna miss out on” he says in a seductive tone while putting his hand on her thigh waiting for a response.

She nods and they stand up, going somewhere that it’s not even private. I can’t with Matthew. Just get this over with. Like it’s already done Matt just say it was a joke and come back to me.

He turns to her, biting his lips and places his hands on her hips. His eyes dark with desire he pulls her in and kisses her. His hands going to her ass and he squeezes it. She moans and he slides his tongue in, making out like it’s the last day on earth.

I look at them shocked. This wasn’t part of the fucking dare, what the fuck is he doing? Literally 2 hours ago we were hooking up and now he’s tryna fuck this random whore he met not even 10 minutes ago? He doesn’t know her name. Does he even remember he came here with me? Is he fucking with me? I’m so fucking done with him. He can get his dick wet and make out with her while I just stand there and watch them do it? Fuck you Matthew. I so fucking hate you.

I stand up and go the other direction, leaving the beach as a tear goes down my face

Why the fuck am I even crying for? Maybe I liked him? Of course I fucking like him, I love him. But what he’s doing right now is so fucked up. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have dared him that. But no it’s not. It was just a dare. I made it clear after she agreed that he has to say he’s joking because I didn’t want to see him fuck other girls. But here we are.

Matt loses himself in the kiss, feeling a heavy rush of lust and excitement as their bodies are pressed against each other. It’s a rush he hasn’t belt in years, having a pretty woman pressed against him. It almost feels like a dream, a fantasy. After a while he pull away breathing heavily and coming back to his senses. He looks around to look for y/n but she wasn’t there. He starts to panic.

The random girl looks at him confused “what happened baby? Why’d you pull away?”

Y/n is sprinting to her best friends house, Sabrina while crying her eyes out.

Matts heart clenches in his chest, a pang of guilt running through him. He realised you were there watching all of this. His stomach drops as he realises what he’s done. He sighs “oh fuck”

The girl looks at him confused “huh?”

Matthew backs away from her and leaves her there, while he’s trying to call you and run after you but you weren’t in sight.

Saturday, 00:23am

“I never want to see him again. He can fuck other girls I don’t fucking care. He’s the one who will get STDS not me.I fucking hate him.” I say crying in my best friends bed cuddling her. She barely understands what I’m saying

“It’s okay y/n, he’s fucking stupid for putting you through that. You’ll find someone better.” Sabrina says as she runs her fingers through my hair.

Saturday, 2pm

Me and Sab went to sleep at 4am. All we did was talk about random stuff to get my head off Matthew. It kind of worked.

Now I’m heading back to my house feeling like shit and probably gonna stay in my bed all day watching random TV shows.

I get closer to my house and I see something there. Not something, more so someone.

Matthew.

In the same clothes as yesterday.

Did he stay in front of my house all night? What the fuck?

y’all don’t judge it’s my first time ever writing a fic and English is not my first language so excuse me😭😭😭

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo one shot #sturniolo smut #smut #dare

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faggot-vampire-dies-epicly · 6 months

Text

Tear me to pieces

Summary: Vanessa was annoyed. Her dad had sent her to check on you at the old Freddy's location on the outskirts of town. She expected the eerie atmosphere and dusty hallways, but she didn’t expect the way you made her feel. | Words: 6,031K

Warnings: Semi-graphic depictions of corpses. Death, murder, missing people, references of child death/murder. Parental abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation. Cursing. A slight sexual joke. Heavy angst, hurt/almost no comfort. William is an asshole on this one, you guys. Fem!Reader.

A/N: Whew, this took so long! But I'm kind of proud on how this turned out, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I went out of my way to make William as shitty as possible because I love making Vanessa suffer, and well, there's also sort of a plot twist? It's probably pretty obvious but I tried to keep it in the dark a little :). Title is from Lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid/Inspired by the entire album of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, by My Chemical Romance.

Main Materlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

She had arrived at least fifteen minutes ago, but her headache from her father’s berating had not yet subsided. She really wasn’t in the mood to make any effort. In spite of William’s scolding, she wanted just to fulfill her father’s orders in the most half-assed-and-bare-minimum-effort way possible.

Vanessa sighed, staring at the restaurant’s sign. The letters of the neon sign glowed dimly over the parking lot.

She cursed under her breath and got out of the car. She opened the trunk and took out the bag where she kept his fake police uniform. Her father had been trying to convince her for months to enroll into the police force, but she had refused over and over again. Vanessa knew he just wanted her to cover for him, and she refused to be more involved in his crimes than she already was.

She put the uniform over her normal civil clothes, grabbed the fake police badge and the ID and stepped out of the car.

Vanessa took a deep breath and finally walked to the entrance.

Doing these checkups was never easy for her. She got to meet pretty mundane people who were practically doomed from the start. From middle aged parents that just needed the job to survive with their kids to college students and teenagers that were fresh out of high school and just wanted to make some money to buy a car or go out with their friends.

They never lasted. Never.

Unfair was an understatement.

At least her father didn’t have to do with the disappearance of the majority. Most of them she would find inside Freddy. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t get any easier, but at least she knew her father wasn’t the real cause in the end. Or that’s how she tried to convince herself.

She rang the bell, waiting for the guard of this month (or perhaps of this week only) to come out.

She looked back at the parking lot. It was empty except for her car, parked on the darkest corner she could find. The door opened and she snapped her head back to the entrance.

And she saw you, looking confused.

“Is there anything I can help you with, officer?”

She stared at you for a moment. “Another college kid?” she thought wryly, “she’s not even going to last the full week”.

Vanessa forced a smile, suddenly becoming too aware of the way your gaze wouldn’t leave her face.

“Hi,” she said in a slightly strangled voice. You frowned.

She blushed slightly and cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m Officer Shelly. Vanessa Shelly,” she laughed awkwardly.

Vanessa extended her hand out, hoping you would understand the gesture and shook it. You complied. It was gentle, but firm.

It made her skin tingle.

Vanessa swallowed, trying to shake the feeling away.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious,” she began. “I just wanted to check on you. When there’s a new night guard in this place, word spreads fast.”

You made a confused face, but you nodded. She smiled at you, “can I come in?”

“Um,” you hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah, sure,” you said while stepping aside. She gave you a polite smile and she went into the restaurant.

Once inside, she looked around. It looked the same every time, but that didn’t make it any less dreadful.

The place used to be crammed with kids and their families. There were always birthday celebrations, kindergarten graduation parties, some people just going for a quick bite after a long day. Hell, sometimes even some high school students would show up after homecoming.

She remembered it well. The smell of pizza, the laughter of children, the animatronics singing and dancing.

And then, her father inside the suit. The police sirens, mothers crying, fathers yelling.

A chill runned down her spine, snapping her out of the memories. You eyed her curiously at the sudden reaction, but said nothing.

Vanessa cleared her throat again, “how long have you been working here?”

You licked your lips, an action Vanessa got too caught on. “A couple of days only.”

She hummed, nodding. “Has anything weird happened?” You swallowed, “weird how?”

Vanessa shrugged. “Like someone trying to break in,” she said casually, glancing around. “Or,” she trailed off, “equipment malfunctioning, like the monitors, or the cameras, or…”

She turned to face you. “Maybe the animatronics getting a bit quirky.” She tried to be as nonchalant as possible while mentioning the animatronics.

You seemed to tense up slightly, opening your mouth to answer but then snapping it shut again.

“No,” you said finally, with a slightly higher pitch than usual. “Nope. Nothing like that has happened, ma’am.”

Vanessa grimaced at the formal way you addressed her. “Please,” she forced some humor into her voice, “don’t call me that.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, “I’m sorry Officer–”

She raised her hand, signaling for you to stop talking. “Just,” she sighed, “just call me Vanessa.”

You breathed out softly. “Sorry, Vanessa.”

The way you said her name had her avoiding your gaze nervously. “God, Vanessa, get a grip,” she thought.

“It’s fine,” she dismissed quickly.

You two stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments. She couldn’t bear it.

“So, what made you decide to work at Freddy’s?” Vanessa internally scolded herself for asking something so stupid and personal.

“Oh,” you said, shrugging. “I just wanted to make some money before the school year starts.”

Vanessa nodded slowly, “Highschool?”

You shook your head. “College, actually.”

Her eyes widened, you looked younger than you were then.

“That’s,” she blinked a few times, “nice.”

You nodded awkwardly, and she smiled. “What’s your major?”

“English literature.”

“That sounds interesting,” she said thoughtfully.

“You know, I never considered going to college,” Vanessa murmured, thinking how her father would reduce her to dust if she even dared to suggest the idea.

“Is that why you’re a cop?” You said bluntly. You quickly realized how that sounded and attempted to take it back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Vanessa stared at you blankly for a moment before bursting out laughing.

You smiled, confused.

“Don’t worry. It is probably why I am a cop, yeah,” she said, smiling, trying to regain her composure.

Not one of the previous had charmed her enough to even smile, and now you were making her laugh.

She obviously couldn’t tell you that she wasn’t actually a cop. She sighed, gazing at the clock that hung on the wall. “Well, I better get going, I still have to patrol a couple of blocks,” she lied.

You nodded, understanding, and then escorted her to the door.

“I may come back another night to see how you’re doing, alright?”

“Sure.”

Vanessa nodded, but before you closed the door, she spoke again. “You never told me your name.”

You smiled, “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” she echoed, then nodded. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, Vanessa.”

And with that she made her way back to her car, her heart pounding inside her chest.

She returned four days later by her father’s order.

Same routine. Choose the darkest spot in the parking lot, put the fake uniform on top of her normal clothes, grab her fake badge and fake ID and put on her bravest face.

It was the same procedure she had done for years. Except, of course, that this time it was pouring, and she hadn’t brought a rain coat with her.

She frantically rang the bell, feeling the rain wet her clothes and soak her to the bone.

You opened the door, letting her through. She mumbled a thank you as she rushed inside.

“God, you’re soaked,” you murmured. She snapped her head towards you, almost straining her neck, and you blushed at how that sounded. “I, I meant–”

Vanessa sighed, looking at her uniform, “I know what you meant,” she grumbled.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think there’s a towel in the office. Come with me.”

She followed you to the office while shivering. You offered your chair for her to sit and she gladly accepted it.

She watched you search every corner of your office for a towel, but the only thing you could find was a handkerchief.

“Sorry, this is all I have,” you scratched the back of your neck as you offered the piece of cloth. She took with trembling fingers, and immediately dried her face.

“What brings you here again?” You asked, sitting on your desk. She sighed, untying her hair to try and dry it a bit with the handkerchief.

“I just want to see how you are doing, honestly,” she said, making a face. “I didn’t read the weather forecast, as you can see.”

You chuckled a bit, “you’re going to be fine.”

A beat passed and you spoke up again, “actually, I have coffee, would you like some?”

She groaned softly. “Oh my God. Yes, please.”

You chuckled again, taking out a thermos from your backpack and pouring some in the mug sitting on the desk.

She took the coffee hastily and took a sip, humming in contentment. “I think you’re the first guard to bring coffee to the job,” she murmured. You raised your eyebrows.

“Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. The job is being a night guard, I can’t be the only one,” you rolled your eyes, and she smiled into the mug. “And second of all,” you looked into her eyes, “you met the other guards?”

Vanessa choked on the hot liquid, and coughed. She had said too much.

“Um,” she said, trying to recover. “Well, I met some of them,” she laughed awkwardly, avoiding your eyes. You hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

“And how were they like?”

Vanessa sighed, as flashbacks flooded her mind.

Sometimes she would find their bodies still sitting on the chair, their head laid down on the desk. She would consider herself lucky when she found them like that. Usually they had been just stabbed on the chest, or the stomach. It was probably Foxy, or that’s what she liked to think.

Other times she would find them in the supply closet. Dismembered, split in a half, headless, or smashed. She would have to hide the bodies and additionally clean the whole room.

The animatronics were relentless, especially, she had come to realize, if the person looked like her father, even if it was just the minimum.

She didn’t blame them of course. They had been trapped in there for at least two decades, and even if they had forgotten what happened, and who did them wrong, they still subconsciously searched for vengeance.

“Vanessa?”

She snapped out of her thoughts, “yes?”

“What were the other night guards like? I mean,” you shifted on the desk, leaning in. “I mean, I’ve heard that most of them went missing. But that can’t be true, can’t it? That’s too many people to be a coincidence.”

She swallowed, looking at the remaining sip of coffee on the mug.

Vanessa cleared her throat in an effort to regain her composure. “Well, I’m sure most of them simply quit.”

“You don’t seem so sure,” you said, arching an eyebrow. She tried to brush it off by chuckling.

“I mean,” she sighed, “it would be too many people to be a coincidence, like you said. People don’t just… disappear.”

You frowned. The tone in which she had said it made your curiosity rise.

Just as you were about to ask her to explain what she meant, she drank the last of the coffee and handed you the mug.

“Well, thanks for the coffee,” she looked down at her hands, where she was holding the handkerchief. “And for the…” she waved the piece of cloth, “this.”

You smiled and her heart sped up. “Sure thing."

It had become a routine. She came back to supposedly check on you, but in reality she just wanted to see you. To hear you.

She ached to look at you as you ranted to her about a boring book you had been reading lately.

She brought you dinner sometimes, which you always took with a smile, and a thank you in a soft voice, which made her heart leap into her chest.

Vanessa wasn't what people would call experienced in love, much less in dating, or relationships, but she knew that what you made her feel was not only attraction, but also affection.

Affection had always eluded Vanessa. First from her father, given his nature, and then from her mother, who vanished from the face of the Earth when Vanessa was a child.

But you were different. You seemed to exhale affection through your pores. It was so natural for you, whether with her or with everything else, that she could feel devotion slowly consuming her.

Her father had started to suspect that something was up. He had always controlled her outings, only letting her out at night to fulfill her duties as his spy, but she was checking on the guard a little too much for his liking.

He had even cornered her, grabbing her arm tightly and pressing her against the wall. “I’m warning you, Vanessa,” he said. “If I find out that you are crossing the line between my orders and your personal matters, it’s not going to end well for either of you. Especially not for her.”

She had suppressed a shiver as William let go of her arm.

Vanessa knew it was risky, but she didn’t want to stop. In fact, she couldn’t. It’s like she had become addicted to you.

Addicted to your smile, your humor, your voice.

She hadn’t even touched you yet, aside from the handshake on the first night she met you, and the occasional brush of hands when she handed you some food, or when you gave her a mug filled with coffee.

She loved to hear you rant about the books you read, even if she thought that reading was boring, especially the books you always chose to read.

“I’m telling you,” you said, “this has to have some truth to it!” You exclaimed, holding the book up, whose cover read “The Turn of the Screw.”

“What if ghosts do exist?” You continued. She rolled her eyes, slightly unamused by your interest in the supernatural.

She knew ghosts were real. The whole place was a proof of it. All the deaths, and the attacks, it was obvious what had provoked them, but she remained silent as you kept speaking.

“I mean,” you continued, “you know energy can’t be destroyed, right? And humans are energy. So what really happens to our energy when we die?”

You seemed fascinated by the concept of ghosts now. All thanks to that stupid book.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Vanessa scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, “you just don’t get it.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

You grinned, “I could lend you the book if you want.” She chuckled.

“That won’t be necessary, believe me. I know enough thanks to what you have told me,” she smiled.

“Well, that sounds like you don’t like reading.”

She laughed, “Not all of us can be workbooks like you, you know?”

Your grin widened. “You just don’t appreciate the beauty of reading and analyzing.”

Vanessa hummed, and smirked, “that must be why I became a cop.” You groaned. “God, no. I thought you had forgotten about that.” She smiled.

“I never forget the things you tell me,” she said softly.

You smiled softly, blushing slightly while you looked down at your book. On the page you were left on you put the handkerchief, which you were now using as a separator, and closed the book.

“You know,” you spoke softly. “I know that might have sounded pretty mean. But I said it as a compliment.”

She met your gaze, “how so?”

You licked your lips. “Well, I could never be a cop. To be a cop you need to be brave, smart and caring. Reading is something I’ve always loved, that’s why I’m majoring in english literature, but you,” you paused. “You became a police officer to help people, something that has never crossed my mind.”

Vanessa swallowed, knowing that she wasn’t a real cop, and that she wasn’t pretending to help anyone but herself and her father.

“Your decision to pursue a career that allows you to help others doesn't compare to my futile decision to study literature because I like to read and be annoying.” You smiled at her again. “I could never be like you, and I admire you, honestly.”

She felt a little overcome with emotion, and completely filled with guilt. She swallowed her feelings down.

“Thank you. For your kind words.”

You grinned, “as long as I’m alive you’ll get to hear more kind words coming from me.”

One night, when Vanessa descended the staircase, carrying the bag with her fake belongings, William was waiting for her at the foot of the steps, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

He wore that look he always had when he was planning something, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Vanessa,” he began, his voice cold like ice, “where are you going?”

She swallowed, lifting the bag for her father to see, hoping he would deduce her intentions, but he merely arched an eyebrow. “I’m going to Freddy’s”, Vanessa said in a small voice, “to check on the night guard.”

She brushed past him, walking towards the garage.

“You’ve been checking on her an awful lot lately, hm?”

William trailed behind her, his pace slowly but his steps wide.

Vanessa didn’t turn to look at him. She opened the car’s trunk, throwing the bag inside, and just hummed in acknowledgement to her dad’s words.

“Is there a reason why?” William insisted.

Vanessa sighed. “No, dad. I just want to keep an eye on her,” she closed the trunk with more force than she intended to. “I’m just doing as you told me. I’m just doing what you entrusted me to do.”

He hummed, sounding more like the typical cartoon villain than an actual man.

“Remember what I told you, Vanessa.”

Vanessa didn’t answer, she just opened the driver’s side door, and got into the car.

Just as she was adjusting the mirror by her window, William grabbed her wrist tightly, and squeezed even tighter.

Vanessa groaned.

“I’m serious, Vanessa,” he leaned closer to her through the window, towering over his daughter. Vanessa felt herself shrinking on her seat.

"If I catch you spilling your guts to that filthy little friend of yours, I'll skin her alive, and you, dear daughter, I'll lock you up in the basement with the prototypes of animatronics I've been working on.”

Vanessa’s breath got caught in her throat. “Dad–” she tried to explain, but he just kept talking, squeezing her wrist harder.

“And I assure you, little girl,” William practically sneered, “this time those animatronics will serve their purpose if you dare come near them."

Finally, he let go of her wrist, or rather, he flung it away from him, and Vanessa's hand hit the mirror.

William walked away, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

Vanessa sat there, still trembling, holding onto her hand, which hurt pretty bad. But she didn’t know what was worse, if the physical pain, the threats against you, or the threats against her.

When she had finally calmed down enough, she turned on the engine, and drove away.

Away from her father, and looking for you.

Your smile had disappeared, and turned instead into a frown as soon as you saw the state she was in.

A nervous mess, with tense shoulders, and a bruise starting to form on her wrist. Wide, alert eyes met yours instead of the usual bright eyes that typically greeted you.

You closed the door behind her, the atmosphere was so tense that it could have been cut with a knife.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she sighed, leaning against one of the tables that were used for dinning back in the day.

You crossed the distance between you and her in two seconds, and delicately took her injured wrist.

“Then what is this?”

Vanessa’s pulse quickened. You were touching her.

Your skin felt so soft, so warm, and inviting. She suppressed a shiver as she swallowed dryly and looked away.

“That’s just,” she gestured with her other hand, “an occupational hazard.” “I've never seen you have one of these before," you murmured. “Does it hurt?” You asked as you poked the bruise lightly. Vanessa hissed.

“Shit–” you let go of her hand as if it burned you. “I’m so sorry–”

“It’s fine,” she cut you off. “I’m fine, really.” She ran a hand through her carefully arranged ponytailed hair. “That just… happens sometimes. Sometimes things just happen to you, and you can’t explain why.” She swallowed, “you never know if you did something to cause them, or if that is just how life works.” You opened your mouth to say something, but then closed it again.

“Come with me,” you said finally, walking towards your office.

She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately followed you.

Once inside, you took your backpack and began to search inside. After a few moments, you pulled out a cold juice can wrapped in the handkerchief from last time.

“I brought this because I wanted to give it to you,” you said after you saw Vanessa’s look of confusion. “But I have books in my backpack, I don’t want them to get wet.”

You unwrapped the handkerchief, which was now cold. With a subtle gesture, you extended your hand towards her, indicating for her to bring her wrist closer.

She complied. You took her wrist, wrapping the cold cloth around it.

“There,” you said, “that’ll help with the swelling.”

She took a deep breath, touched by the gesture.

“Thank you,” Vanessa said, meeting your gaze as she smiled softly.

“Anytime,” you replied, offering the juice can to her. “Besides, it matches your uniform.”

Vanessa smiled, taking the can from your hand. Her fingers brushed against yours, which caused a tingle to go down her spine.

Your smile widened, your eyes traveling to her injured wrist. “I hope it helps,” you gestured towards the piece of cloth wrapped around her wrist.

Vanessa nodded, pulling the tab from the can, and resting her lips on the cold surface of the lid. “It already feels better,” she admitted with a soft voice.

“Good,” you replied. You both stood there in silence, and Vanessa couldn’t help but notice that providing her with some comfort made you look strangely content.

“Have you seen the animatronics perform?” She asked suddenly.

You huffed a laugh. “Uh, no. Not really.”

She took a sip from the juice, “would you like to?”

You met her gaze, holding it for a second, and then you nodded.

When Vanessa woke up the next day, she lay in bed, mulling over everything that had happened the night before.

You giving her your handkerchief to help with the swelling of her wrist, the juice can, the animatronics' performance, the dancing, the way you rested your forehead against hers as you laughed after tripping over your own feet.

It felt surreal, to say the least.

When she finally decided to descend the stairs to find something to eat, her father was in the dining room reading the newspaper.

Their eyes met, but due to the fight from the night before, neither of them said anything and shortly after, William disappeared from her sight.

She was relieved, of course. A day without William meant a day without problems. No arguments, no empty threats, and no deathly stares.

Vanessa decided to just stay in and relax. It was true that she was glad William wasn’t around, but she didn’t want to upset him further by going out without permission. With her going out almost every night, deliberately disobeying him and lying to his face. She didn’t want to think about what could happen if he found out.

Hours passed and Vanessa was growing worried. Had something happened to him?

It was true that whenever they were together, Vanessa felt like she had to walk on eggshells, always being on edge. But he was her dad after all, wasn't he? Her only family.

After a while of pacing out in front of the door, Vanessa sat down.

She started dozing off, and just when the clock was about to strike midnight, the door opened, with a very calm William stepping inside.

Vanessa immediately jumped from her seat, rushing to him.

William gave her an exasperated look, but smiled to her nonetheless.

He unceremoniously walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge, and Vanessa trailed behind him.

“Dad?”

William ignored her, taking the carton of milk out of the fridge, and setting it on the table. He then turned to the cupboard, taking out a mug, and lastly, took out powdered coffee from the kitchen cabinet.

“Dad,” Vanessa insisted. What was his deal now? Was he going to ignore her until his anger had dissipated?

He turned around, turning on the hot water, and filling his cup, which was now full of coffee powder. He hummed a tune, one Vanessa could recognize from the songs the animatronics used to play, she clenched her fists.

“Father,” her patience was running out, her voice was more commanding this time.

William continued on his task, now pouring the milk after having dissolved the coffee with water. Then he took the sugar jar and opened it.

She hated him. She hated him so much.

She hated his smugness, his incredibly enormous ego, the total dismissal of her feelings, the threats, the fights, the screaming, the hits –

Her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. What was his problem? All Vanessa had ever done was to please him, and when she displeased him just once, he preferred to be away all day and ignore her afterward.

“Look at me!” she all but growled.

William audibly sighed, taking a sip out of his drink. He put the mug on the counter, and finally acknowledged Vanessa’s presence.

“Tell me,” he said in a monotone voice, “are you going to visit your little friend today?”

Vanessa swallowed. “No, I’m not.”

William raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? That’s surprising.”

Vanessa opened her mouth to answer, but he interrupted her with a low chuckle. “I mean, you were so eager to see her last night, weren’t you?”

She inhaled, trying to relax and push her uncomfort down. “Yes,” she said between her teeth. “But since it upset you, I’m not going to go check on her for at least a couple of days.”

William hummed.

“Is that satisfying enough for you, father?”

“Bah,” with a dismissive gesture, he waved off her words, turning his head to the side with disdain.

“Playing the “father” card with me, like you’re a little kid,” he murmured to himself. “I know what you’re doing,” he turned to her, closing the distance between them.

Vanessa recoiled, panic etching her face.

She tried walking away from him until her back hit the wall, and William finally cornered her.

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” He smiled condescendingly at her. “You think you’re so tough, so… lucky. One day reality it’s going to hit you, and you’ll realize you’re not worth any of the trouble you’re causing.”

He raised his hand towards her face.

Vanessa’s breath quickened. She felt as if all of the air in the room suddenly vanished. Her chest felt tight, her throat was dry and her eyes burned with unshed tears.

William gently stroked her cheek before slowly sliding his hand downward. He rested his hand around Vanessa’s neck, not squeezing, just to hold her in place, like a silent warning.

His voice was soft and calm, but incredibly supercilious. “The day will come, Vanessa. Just wait and see.”

After a week of radio silence, Vanessa couldn't take it anymore and went to look for you at work.

Something had changed. She didn't know what exactly, but you weren't the same.

You would barely face her, let alone look at her. You would avoid her touch, you wouldn't accept her offerings of food.

You didn't offer her coffee anymore.

Vanessa couldn't help but wonder if it was something she had done.

Every time she tried to mention it, you brushed it off like it wasn’t important.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” or sometimes it was “I just had a rough day, don’t worry about it.”

You were lying, it was painfully obvious, and both of you were aware of it.

But why? What had happened?

Vanessa couldn’t help but roll around in bed every night, thinking, analyzing.

Whatever it was, she was determined to find out.

There was something else, too.

Her father had also changed his behavior.

He stopped asking where she was going. He also spent most of his time in the basement, working on his projects.

Vanessa honestly didn't mind as much, she felt better with him being out of sight most of the time.

That night, when she went downstairs ready to check on you at Freddy's, he was in the living room, reading the newspaper.

“How's your little friend?” He asked, not lifting his gaze.

“She's fine,” Vanessa answered, maybe more coldly than she should've.

William chuckled, amused, for some reason.

“I've been thinking about placing an ad in the newspaper to look for another security guard.”

“Another?” Vanessa frowned. “Are you going to fire her?”

William lifted his gaze, “you sometimes worry me, Vanessa.”

Vanessa was taken aback by this, but her father didn't elaborate.

She sighed, making her way to the garage.

Vanessa heard her father say, “have fun,” as she left the room.

She was inside Freddy's in no time. You had developed the habit of leaving the door unlocked, Vanessa knew she probably had to scold you for that, but she honestly couldn't care less.

Vanessa headed to your office, but something stopped her.

Was that the smell of…?

No, she interrupted her train of thought. No, it can't be, it's impossible.

“Is it, though?” A voice inside her head said.

She swallowed, turning around and heading to the storage room.

With her heart beating madly inside, she entered the room.

An incredibly strong and nauseating smell hit her.

Vanessa recognized the smell easily.

Putrefaction.

Death.

And there were you. Or rather, what was left of you.

Her heart was beating so fast that she was subconsciously afraid that her blood pressure would drop and she would faint.

Slowly, painfully so, she approached your body.

At first glance, and also thanks to the stench, she could tell this had happened days ago, if not weeks.

How?

You talked with her not too long ago, barely a couple of days had passed.

How? Who?

Vanessa could no longer stand, and her knees gave way.

How? Who? Why?

All she could do was stare at your decomposed body, the dry wounds, the rotten blood, the pale skin.

It was like seeing the kids again. All over again.

Before she could When he realized it, big tears were sliding down his cheeks and falling to the ground.

This couldn't be happening. Not to you, at least.

It didn't make any sense, one day she had you dancing in her arms, and now you were lying dead on the ground.

Why?

Could she have prevented this?

She never even get to tell you how she felt. She never got to tell you that she liked you.

Vanessa trembled, unable to stop crying. Was this a divine punishment?

Did God see all her atrocities and decided to take action against her?

She tried to brush away the tears, being too harsh.

It hurt. Everything hurt. From her eyes, to her head, and her heart.

Her chest felt tight, she couldn't breathe. No amount of trying was going to compensate for it.

You were dead. But she had seen you, hadn't she?

And that's when she heard footsteps behind her.

Vanessa snapped her head back, and lo and behold. You were there.

Vanessa choked, trying to say something, anything.

“You're gone,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, barely audible over her sobs.

You nodded, softly.

She raised her voice, “why didn't you say anything?”

You just stared at her for a moment. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Vanessa stood up on her wobbly legs.

“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” you say.

Vanessa looks at your face after what felt like eternity. So that was why you would recoil from her touch. That was why you would never look at her, you would never let her look at you. It was disturbingly obvious now.

Your eyes were basically drained of life, hollow, empty.

She would have realized something was amiss if you hadn't taken all those precautions.

The tears kept falling.

“I'm sorry,” Vanessa breathed out with a broken voice.

You managed a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “Don't be. It wasn't your fault.”

She choked on her sobs, her cries getting louder.

“I don't understand,” she choked, “why are you still here?”

You (or rather, your ghost,) looked down, sighing. “I guess what they say it's true. You can't go if you have something pending.”

You approached her. "I guess I should tell you.”

Vanessa looked down at your corpse and then back at your ghost.

“Tell me.”

You sighed, smiling bittersweetly.

“Let me tell you something else first,” you began. “I still admire you for your decision to become a police officer. I know you think it's nothing. But not for me, because I know you'll help with the investigation. I know you'll report what happened here, and I'll finally get some peace.”

Vanessa swallowed. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

“Anyways, I…” you closed your eyes, and opened them again. “I'm ready to tell you.”

A beat passed.

“I like you, Vanessa.”

Numb. That's the only way she could describe it.

Her hands felt numb after dragging your body through the cold and burying it behind Freddy's, on the empty lot William had bought a few years ago.

Her heart was numb after your confession.

“I like you.”

It repeated over and over again inside her head, like a broken record.

I like you, I like you, I like you.

If only she could have said, “I like you too,” before your spectrum became nothing more than dust and memories.

If only she had said something before you were killed.

If only she had done anything at all.

She knew exactly who had done it. She couldn't pretend that she didn't see it anymore.

That night, coming home felt like a nightmare.

Vanessa had barged inside the basement, and screamed at him. At her father.

The one who had taken you away from her.

She screamed, and threw everything she could find at him. She cried, and cried, and cried.

And William remained impassive until he didn't.

Vanessa made the mistake of tearing William's work plans off the wall, and at that moment he finally saw red and revealed himself.

With an incredible amount of force, he grabbed Vanessa and pressed her against his desk.

“What do you think you're doing, you stupid creature? You think throwing a tantrum will bring her back? Do you forget who you are, and who I am?”

William basically spat the words out, Vanessa took a deep breath.

“Look at what you have become,” William narrowed his eyes as he said this.

With a trembling voice, Vanessa replied, “I am what you made me. I am your daughter.”

He growled, “you're unbearable. I want you out of my sight!”

William pushed her out of the basement, and locked himself inside.

A couple of days later, Vanessa was packing everything she owned, including the handkerchief you had given to her that one time, and leaving her dad's house. For good this time.

And a month after escaping her father's shadow, she was changing her last name from Afton to Shelly and enrolling in the police academy.

A/N: Well, that was a ride, wasn't it? Reblogs are appreciated.

#vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #elizabeth lail #william afton

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