#now if i could just get myself to do the next set of thumbs LMAO

[grailknightmonty]

the lady and her circus of the void

catching up on uploading to my VOD channel, have some thumbs I did recently

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

last chapter | next chapter

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better. 

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text. 

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown. 

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track. 

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you. 

ellie: oh hdy! 

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay 

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage. 

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to. 

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you. 

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready. 

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks. 

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :) 

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around. 

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot. 

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around. 

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you. 

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall. 

-

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you. 

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you. 

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile. 

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression. 

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?” 

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.” 

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.  

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!” 

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same. 

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!” 

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around. 

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost. 

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself. 

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?” 

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.” 

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?” 

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?” 

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was. 

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later. 

“Even with me?” 

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

 A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not? 

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction. 

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.” 

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply. 

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?” 

“Of you or the girls?” 

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer. 

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now. 

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around. 

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it. 

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making. 

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could  acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further. 

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand. 

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever. 

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?” 

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?” 

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince. 

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.” 

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about. 

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?” 

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence. 

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question. 

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies. 

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react. 

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists. 

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table. 

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements. 

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?” 

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face. 

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet. 

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left. 

“Hey, Els?” 

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you. 

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a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

[dinaaaaee]

Firsts with him: Beelzebub

-Beelzebub x gender neutral reader.

-I love him sm, I hope I did him some justice since the obey me devs don't. smh :/ May be a bit ooc.

-I couldn't take myself seriously writing suggestive LMAO sorry if its bad...

-Warnings: Reader feeling distressed because of school at the start, brief mentions of rudeness (eg. gossiping) at the beginning - not detailed on what. Reader is called pretty. Mention of food. Suggestive. (not explicit)

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🧡 Holding hands with him for the first time.

It had been another stressful day. Schoolwork was piling up, and exams were just around the corner… exams seemed to be every other fortnight. The brothers' were restless, The bickering worsened. Everything was becoming too much. So you took off. Took off to find some peace and quiet for the time being. Walking out without being noticed by one of the brothers, or so you thought you hadn't been noticed.

Beelzebub, the one you adore, had been keeping a close eye on you recently. Seeing how stressed you were, he did everything he could to help you, even if it meant scaring one of his brothers who became too rowdy. (Yes, even Lucifer and even Belphie.) So when he saw you leave, he quickly follows you. To make sure your safe but more importantly to make sure your okay.

You hadn't realized the muscular and gentle demon had been following you until he softly calls your name.

"Mc." he murmurs.

You'd gone to your secret hideout, the hideout you found when you were new to the devildom and when everything was more harsher then. Trying to get away from the hungry stares of low rank demons, the cruel words spoken by demon nobles, the rumors and gossip that has been circling about you… You had never told anyone about this spot, but since Beel followed you, you wouldn't mind if he knew about it; it could be your little secret.

"Beel?" You sniff out, confused as to why he's here; his presence, however, is not unwelcomed.

He walks over to you, observing your saddened state. He hates it when his loved ones are upset. He sits next to you, legs crossed, not facing you, just sitting there. Trying to offer some comfort in his own way, since hes not really good with words. After a few quiet moments wherein you stay quiet, he decides to risk it, taking your hand in his. His large, surprisingly warm hand. He gives your hand a squeeze and when you squeeze back, he smiles to himself.

Despite the situation, this is the first time your holding his hand, your glad its his hand holding yours.

"Mc... I might not be good with words, but I'm here for you, I don't like seeing my family upset. Especially you." He hums, now rubbing his thumb on your palmar.

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🧡 When you hug him for the first time

He envelopes you like a teddy bear. A teddy bear that's so so touch starved and when you suggest to hug him for the first time, he nods. Hes more then happy to do anything you want him to do, but he doesn't know that he needs this hug just as much as you do. When you pull back, he pulls forward. He can't help it, your so warm, your a puzzle piece that connects with his piece, so perfectly.

He sheepishly apologizes when he finally pulls back. Rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, boyishly grinning.

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🧡 When you both kiss for the first time.

The long-awaited kiss is setting off fireworks in your heads. The one thing you both craved. It began with a soft kiss, the kind that seals a promise. Your lips on his and his lips on yours, speaking words you don't understand but can feel. His breath smelled like mint chocolate ice cream, which he was eating. The more kisses you gave him, the more he wanted; the passion was palpable. The taste of you he needed. You both pulled back, giggling at the kiss, he swears he fell in love again. Blushing, he pulls you in for more sweet pecks.

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🧡 After hours, with him. ;)

Lips on lips, kiss after kiss. Hands searching and exploring one another. You couldn't seem to get enough of him. He looked at you with such adoring, but eager, eyes. You couldn't help but gasp when he took off his shirt, his six packs glistened in the dim orange light, and his side arm tattoo added to his allure.

"You're so pretty like this…" He rasps his voice, voice full of desire. His hands roaming around your body, as he checks you out. He's lost in his own haze. Embarrassed, you try to cover your body, your expression only revealing how you feel.

"Don't try to hide from me." He whispers as he begins to kiss your bare neck and face softly, slowly.

"I want you, Beel..."

"I know you do." He smirks against your neck, playfully biting your neck. "I want you too." He says as he looks you in the eye. You could see how hungry he is, hungry for you.

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[imajinxnation]

You Sit In Their Lap - Doctor Who Preference/Reaction

Been awhile huh?? I've been really busy and have been having a hard time, but I've picked myself back up a good amount and I'm ready to start making more fanfics!!

I was so tired while making 10 and the Masters so they might be a lil weird lmao, plus I had a few drinks before hand😬

This is more aimed at FEMALE READERS, but I didn't mention any pronouns... I think

WARNING: Fluff, Angst

9:

Nothing seemed to be going your way today, you were so excited to go on another adventure with the Doctor, but the Tardis seemed a bit queezy after travelling so many places in such a short amount of time, so the Tardis was just floating in space until it was ready to go again.

And then your best friend called you, telling you that someone close to you had passed away, and that was more than enough to make you cry on this already frustrating day.

You trudged your way along the halls of the Tardis to find the Doctor in the library. Once you finally found him, you dragged your feet over to him and waited until he noticed you; which didn't take long.

He set his book down and looked up at you with a smile, asking what it was that you needed. You took no time in making your way onto his lap, legs on either side of him, and hugging him and starting to sob and explain what happened.

Once he had heard all what happened, his arms wrapped around you in an even tighter hug, letting you grieve over your loved one.

"Well, now that you've had a good cry, why don't I tell you a story about one of my previous adventures, you know, just to try and take away from the pain a bit!"

10:

The Doctor was looking up a few things in the books in his library, trying to find a new planet to take you to, a planet that had no danger whatsoever on it so you could just enjoy your time there without almost dying.

Meanwhile you were all over the Tardis, headphones on, listening to music and dancing your way to find the Doctor and demand some cuddles from him. You swayed your hips, and moved your body to the beat while looking for the library entrance.

Once you had finally found the door to the library, you took your headphones off and started searching for the Doctor. You found him sitting in one of the booths in a tucked away corner. You smiled brightly and bounded towards him.

The Doctor looked up at the sounds of footsteps, "Oh, hello (Y/n)! I've been trying to find a good planet to go to next, haven't found one yet. Anywhere you wanna go?"

You only smiled wider and climbed onto his lap on the booth.

"As of right now, the only thing I wanna do is cuddle, but feel free to keep looking for planets we can go to!" You exclaimed, laughing a bit at his surprised face when you sat on his lap.

The Doctors face softened as you wrapped your arms around him and layed your head on his shoulder. He could wait a bit until the next adventure, for now it was cuddle time!

Simm!Master:

(Ignore the caption😂)

Being stuck in your house was killing him, yes he needed to lay low for awhile, but the man can only take so much boringness until he breaks! It wasn't even a week before he started to get extremely restless and fidgity because of the lack of adventure.

"This is so boring! How do you humans do it? How do you live without time travel?" The Master asked, sitting on the couch upside down.

You sighed, "Master, I know it's boring, but unless you wanna regenerate every time you walk out of that door, I suggest you stay here for at least one more week, then everyone will forget about you and move on to the next thing."

The Master scoffed, "Starting to think even THAT would be better."

All you could do was roll your eyes as he finally sat the right way on the couch, his face laying on his palm as he boredly watched the television.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head and a small smile was put on your face.

You walked over in front of him, hands on your hips, then proceeded to climb onto his lap and hug him, your thumb stroking the back of his neck and your chin resting on his shoulder.

The Master looked at you in surprise; never in his life had someone hugged him like this.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Just relax, it's all we can do for now," you replied.

The Master gave in quickly as he realized how the drums calmed down a bit while you were cuddling up to him. If this is what he needed to calm the drums, then that would be no problem with him.

[stayandot8]

One Day...

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: idol!Chan x actress!reader, best friends

Important Contents: Thank you for the idea, anon. It may not be exactly what you asked for but I couldn't get this scene out of my head. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Who knows? Maybe there'll be a part two. We all know I love to write a part two... 😉... lmao that felt like an 'xoxo gossip girl' moment. someone save me

WC: 2.1k

masterlist l Part Two

Me: You promised to run lines with me. I’m outside, let me in

Chris: You have no manners. What if I wasn’t home and security saw you and forced you to leave?

Me: Let me in or I’m sending Minho that photo we took for Halloween last year.

“Okay, okay. No need for the big guns, alright?” As expected, Chris opened the door within seconds of my thumb hitting send. 

“Go big or go home.” I retorted, traipsing in through the doorway and planting myself on the couch. 

“I’d rather you go home. Don’t you have anyone else to run these with?” He shuffled over to me, sporting his trademark athletic shorts and black t shirt. So he’d been working? What else is new? 

“Are you saying that in your friend’s time of need, you won’t help her?” I flung myself across the couch with a delicately placed hand on my forehead, draping over the furniture. I heard a huff of air from the man in front of me as he was fighting his own smile. I sat back up, fighting one of my own. “Come on, Chan. I really need your help. I finally booked a serious drama after months of hosting stupid TV shows and this could be my breakthrough to be taken seriously. This could lead to some serious stuff one day! But I just can’t get these lines right on my own. I just peek at the paper if I mess something up and it ruins my whole flow. I need a scene partner. Please?” I gave him my biggest doe eyes and a smile so sweet it should’ve been used in Felix’s brownies. And like always, it worked. 

Chan rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to me and held out his hand for the stapled sheets of paper. I perked up, rummaging through my bag for the rumpled stack and placing it in his outstretched hand. He brought it to him and scanned the page, every so often lifting the top to scan the next, his brows drawing closer and closer together.

“This is a love scene!” He threw me his best disgusted face and dropped the pages in the space between us like it may bite him. 

“Do you know how hard it is to play a love scene when there’s no one acting in front of you? Acting is all about response, reactions. I can’t act if there’s nothing to react to!”

“You can barely a-”

“Don’t even finish the words I know you don’t mean.” I deadpanned to him, setting my jaw. He threw his hands up and at least had the decency to look mildly ashamed. 

“It was a joke. You know I think you’re great. The best.” He smiled at me, that tight-lipped smile he always had when he wasn’t saying the full truth. I always would mean to ask but he would change the subject too quickly. Like now. “What’s your character like anyways? I’ve never heard of this director before.” 

“Oh, the director’s name on the script isn’t the real one. It’s a fake that they wrote in so no one would know who was actually doing the project. Even I don’t know who it is. We start shooting in two days and I’m dying to know. I bet it’s someone super famous, someone no one would expect to do a project like this. Maybe a famous action director or something like that.” His lips were tucked into his mouth, fighting more laughter. I slapped his shoulder. “Stop laughing! Stop shitting on my dreams, okay? Just start at the top when you’re ready.” I shook out my limbs to loosen up and prepare for what was supposed to be the height of the series. The male love interest had just entered the airport where the female lead was leaving the country, taking a job offer elsewhere. He was calling her name, trying to find her and he spots her and runs to her. At least, this was the background I was giving Chan as his eyebrows rose higher and higher the more I went on. 

“Why doesn’t he just call her?” I rolled my eyes with such vigor, I strained them just a tad. 

“This drama takes place in the late 90s. They didn’t have phones like that. Now start reading where that line is drawn.” I closed my eyes to focus on the moment. I could see it in my head, on display in front of me. I was leaving my home, my country, to chase after my dreams. Or what I thought were my dreams, until I heard my name being shouted throughout the airport.

“Juna! Juna!” Chris whisper-shouted. He really was barely any help.

I mimed turning my head to where the source of the noise came from. There he was. My lover. My heart started racing. 

“You can’t just leave me like this. I won’t let you.”

“You have to let me go. This is my dream.”

“Are you sure about that? What about everything you said to me last night? And every night before that?”

“I meant it all. But I have to do this for myself. I owe it to her.”

“So you’ll throw away everything we have for - Wow, this guy’s a dick.” My head snapped to the boy beside me who was looking at the pages in his hands more closely. “He’s asking her to stay with him in the small town that she hates, just for him? Instead of following her dreams?”

“Yes. And then she leaves anyway and he follows her instead. Keep going.” I faced forward again, to the scene I had imagined. 

“Good! Good for her.”

“Yes. Yes it is good for her. Keep. Going.” Another sigh filled the room. I drowned it out again, going back into the scene. 

“So you’ll throw away everything we have for what? A stupid promise you made when you were twelve? You’ve grown up now. You’ve changed. You’ve changed me. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“It’s not enough anymore. Please let me go, you’re only making this hurt more.”

“So I’m not enough for you, is that it? Is that what you tried to tell me last night?”

“It’s not you that isn’t enough. It’s this place. I need to go and see the world. See new places, meet new people. This city was what I needed two years ago. You’ve helped me see that. Now I need to go. My plane leaves soon, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” I could see it, my eyes filling with tears as he reaches for my hand and says the one thing I need to hear, the one thing he’s kept from me this whole time…

There was a long pause where there should’ve been words. I was shaken from my scene, waiting for Chris to say the next part. When he didn’t, I slowly looked over to him. He sat frozen, staring at the page. “I’m not saying this.”

“Why?” My tone was incredulous. 

“No one says things like this in real life.”

“Just because you’ve never been in love or had a girlfriend does not mean you know everything about it. In fact, it means the opposite.”

“But I know men. And they don’t just outright say things like this. It’s ridiculous.”

“Christopher, read me the line or so help me, I will make so much noise that I will wake up your entire building.”

“It’s not my fault you like to study your lines so late into the night.”

“That’s the only time you’re awake and free.”

“I wasn’t actually free, I was working on our new-” He was cut off by my sudden movement to his kitchen area. I started opening the cabinet with the pots and pans when he started fluttering the pages at me. “Okay, okay! See? Look, I’m ready to read now. Should I start here or somewhere else?” I nodded, satisfied, and returned to my seat. 

“Start a few lines back so I can work up to it again.” A small ‘so dramatic’ under his breath before he continued, which I dutifully ignored. 

“So you’ll throw away everything we have for what? A stupid promise you made when you were twelve? You’ve grown up now. You’ve changed. You’ve changed me. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“It’s not enough anymore. Please let me go, you’re only making this hurt more.”

“So I’m not enough for you, is that it? Is that what you tried to tell me last night?”

“It’s not you that isn’t enough. It’s this place. I need to go and see the world. See new places, meet new people. This city was what I needed two years ago. You’ve helped me see that. Now I need to go. My plane leaves soon, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” 

“Even if you are the only thing in this world that makes me want to breathe? The only thing I want to do is be near you. Everyday. It is the only thing I look forward to. You are the only thing in my life that makes sense. Please don’t take it from me.” He pulls me closer for a kiss, which I allow. A final kiss. A final goodbye. Before I cup his cheek and turn away for good, one last tear trailing down my face. 

“I think I might be sick.” Chris and his upturned lip were still looking at the page. 

“Well, you’d better find a toilet then and let me read my lines in peace.”

“Is that all the practice you want to do? Are you sure?”

“If you’re going to make fun of my script, then yes. That’s all the practice I want to do. I’m just going to go over it a few more times in my head then I’ll leave.” I crossed my arms as I sat back, snatching the script back from him and gluing my eyes to it. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t making fun of you, you know that. I ‘mhm’d loud enough for him to hear without letting my eyes leave my script. “Okay then. Stay as long as you want. I’ll be in my room if you want to do it again. If you get done early, I’d love to show you a song we’re working on. It’s going to be a good one.” His voice went up an octave, knowing that teasing me with new music would definitely pull my forgiveness from me. And damn it, it always worked. 

“Okay, fine. But I want you good headphones!” I smirked at my pages, feeling triumphant for the umpteenth time in our friendship. I heard him shuffle back into his LED-lit cave and creak the door, leaving it cracked for me. Without the company of another person, my eyes suddenly felt very heavy. Okay, maybe just for a second…

Famous last words…

*

Where did that girl go? Did she leave without saying goodbye? Was I too harsh on her? I knew that joke was too much. God, Chris, you take it too far sometimes. 

I shuffled out of my room half an hour later and listened for any noise coming from the living room. I heard none. I called out her name. The first word for love I had ever known.

No reply. I ventured deeper until I heard the faint snores I’d come to love, becoming a constant for many years. Peering around the corner to see her slumped against the back of the couch with her mouth open and eyes shut, I shook my head as the Uncontrollable Grin took over. The same one that appeared when I saw her face the very first time. The one that fought its way onto my lips whenever she was near. Everyone else noticed it. But not her. She still had no idea. 

I somehow moved her to lay on her side without waking her, grabbed a blanket from my room, her favorite one, and threw it over her. Even asleep, she had too much strength. Taking the script from her hands was harder than it should have been. My work was beckoning to me again but I was drawn to her, as I always had been.  Watching her chest rise and fall in the darkness, the moon basking her in its light, I could see it. All on display in front of me. She, just having put the baby down for bed, if we had any, and not being able to make it to the bedroom, collapsing on the couch from exhaustion. I would carry her to the room and tuck her in, kissing her before I would have to go back to the studio. 

One day, I thought as I flipped the light switch.

One day.

masterlist

[avatar-anna]

Still the One

a random chapter from one of my wattpad stories. i'm hoping that posting it here will motivate me to finally finish it lmao. enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

summary: a little trip to joshua tree

word count: 8k

tw: none

I woke up the next morning in bliss. The mattress at the rental house was much softer than the one at my apartment, and after I was tired enough to go to sleep, I practically sank into the mattress. The house was comfortably warm, sunlight was peeking in through the windows softly, Harry was sitting up and staring at me with a cup of coffee in his hands—Wait.

"Why are you staring at me like a psycho?" I asked, rubbing my eyes tiredly on the off chance that I was still dreaming.

"What? I can't just admire you?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

While the sentiment was cute, I didn't think that it was necessarily the full truth. "I...guess you can, but why are you even up right now? Come back to bed."

After years of living alone comfortably, Harry had gone and spoiled me in just over a month. I didn't like that I didn't get to wake up feeling the warmth emanating from his body or having my arms wrapped around him or vice versa. I sometimes felt insane for how much I craved his touch, but I chalked it up to me making up for lost time. And now that we wouldn't be spending as many nights together as we had been, I had to prepare myself for waking up without him all over again. But that could wait until we went back home. Here on this little weekend getaway, I wanted him in every way that I possibly could.

Harry chuckled at my pouting, but set his mug down on the night table on his side of the bed. "Babe, look at the way you were sleeping. Where am I supposed to go?"

It wasn't until he said something that I realized I'd completely sprawled out on the bed. My legs were spread open wide underneath the bed sheet and my arms were pretty much the same way. I normally never slept like this, but I guess I'd taken advantage of how gloriously plush this bed was. So much so that I hadn't left Harry any room.

"Is that what woke you up? Why didn't you say something? I would've moved over," I said, feeling slightly embarrassed that I kept Harry from sleeping in.

He didn't seem to mind though as he finally got back into bed like I asked. I was on him immediately, tangling my legs with his and burying my nose in the crook of his neck. His hair was a little damp from the shower he must've taken, and he smelled heavenly, like jasmine and something a little citrusy, which led me to believe that he'd used my things to shower. I didn't mind, though. I loved it even. Smiling against his neck, I kissed him, peppering his skin with tiny kisses and grinning as he hummed delightedly.

"Someone's in a good mood," Harry mumbled. His arms circled around my waist and found their way under my sleep shirt, his thumbs rubbing circles into my hips. "And to answer your question, I could have woken you up, but you just looked so cute stretched out across the bed like you were. Like a little starfish."

"I'm sorry, like a what?" I paused what I was doing and propped my head up to look Harry in the eyes. When I saw his teasing grin, I huffed. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not being mean," he promised. "You looked so cute. I wanted to take a picture so I could remember the moment forever, but I figured you wouldn't want me taking pictures of you while you were sleeping. Now, though," he said, sitting up and getting his phone from the night table.

Harry was right to say that I didn't want him taking my picture while I was asleep, but I didn't want him taking it while I was awake, either. As far as pictures were concerned, I preferred being on the other side of the camera, especially when I'd just woken up and most likely had a terrible case of bed head. I felt silly, but I raised my hands to cover my face before Harry had the chance to turn his phone in my direction. Harry seemed to take it in stride, though.

"Oh that's perfect, G. Just like that. You look enchanting."

Out of curiosity, I spread my fingers apart so I could peek between them. Sure enough, Harry was above me with his phone and taking pictures. I let him have his fun for a couple of seconds before I realized that in all of my moving around on the bed, my shirt had ridden up, and from the angle Harry was standing, he probably had a pretty decent view of my chest. Removing my hands from where they'd been hiding my face, I quickly pulled my shirt down.

"No, Gwen, that was the best part," he whined, lowering his phone so he could frown at me.

"Were you purposely trying to take pictures of my boobs, Edward?" I asked, even though we both knew the answer was obvious.

"They're so pretty. You're so pretty," he said simply. Tossing his phone on the bed, Harry flopped back down, propping his head up in his hand so he could look down at me.

"If you wanted pictures of me like that, you could've just asked," I told him, though I wasn't entirely sure I would actually do it if he did ask. It seemed like that kind of thing would be both stressful and embarrassing.

Harry grinned before kissing my cheek. "It's not really about that, though. I just like capturing moments like this so I can look back and remember the exact feeling I had when I took that photo."

"And you wanted to capture me right after I woke up? You wanted a picture of my chest?"

He shrugged, a blush rising up to his cheeks. "Yeah, but like I said, it's not like that. Not entirely like that, anyway," he said when I raised a brow at him. "I like taking your picture, though, so be ready for more, like, the rest of your life I guess. You're very beautiful, you know."

"You think so?"

I wasn't fishing for compliments, and the question didn't come from a place of deep–seated insecurity. I just knew that compared to a lot of people, I was...kind of plain. It used to bother me that I wasn't remarkable or beautiful in that classic, model–type way, but I'd come to accept how I looked over time. There were parts of me that I liked, and there were other parts of me I liked a little less, and I realized that was completely okay. And what I lacked in textbook beauty I made up for with what I thought were cool clothes and beautiful art to adorn my body.

While I had come to terms with my average looks, it seemed that Harry couldn't quite believe that I'd asked him if he really thought I was beautiful. "I know so," he insisted. He brought his hands up like he wanted to cup my face in them, but he paused, a question in his eyes. I gave him a subtle nod, and he finally rested them where he wanted to.

I appreciated how cautious he was of me not always liking to be touched. Even though I'd been cuddling him and kissing his neck since he'd laid down on the bed, he still wanted to make sure I was comfortable with him putting his hands on me, especially when we were having something of a vulnerable moment. His touch was delicate, like he was holding something precious in his hands. That gentleness made my heart skip a beat.

"You have the softest brown eyes and the warmest smile. That's the one. The one that's just for me," he said, a pleased little smile of his own breaking out onto his face when he saw my reaction. "You have the cutest nose that crinkles when you laugh. And I mean, that's just your face. I haven't even gotten to the rest of you yet, which is, might I say, exquisite."

I wanted to hide from his compliments, hide the pricking of tears that now stung my eyes, but there was nowhere for me to go when Harry was still holding my face in his hands. "Thank you," I said quietly. "No one has ever really said stuff like that about me before."

"You're welcome. Anytime you don't feel beautiful, give me a call. I'll set you straight. Well, not straight straight, but you get what I mean."

I rolled my eyes then, but I smiled too. Harry was so endearing, yet so goofy. I wasn't sure how he managed to be both in a matter of seconds, but he did it quite well. I never considered that to be one of things that I loved about him, but it was definitely on the infinitely long list. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. You should."

We stayed in bed a little while longer after that. Harry managed to convince me to let him snap a couple of more pictures of me on his phone, and I let him move me around on the bed for what he said were better angles or shift my sleep shirt out of the way so he could get a shot of one of my tattoos or a couple of them at a time. I sat there and posed for him, thinking he would eventually get bored, but he didn't, the little shutter sound from his phone just kept going off over and over again.

"Edward, I think you got enough pictures of my ass," I finally said when he had me lay on my stomach for nearly five minutes. At this point my shirt was gone because according to him it obstructed his view of my tattoos and I was just in my underwear and I was starting to get a little cold.

"Can never have enough of those," he replied, another definitive click from his camera sounding behind me. I flipped back around and shrugged back into my shirt, sitting up against the bed's headboard. "Hey," he whined, pouting a little.

"No more pictures. If anyone happens to see all of these on your phone, they're gonna think you're a creep," I said, crawling over to where Harry was kneeling at the foot of the bed,

"Or that I'm in love with my beautiful girlfriend," he said, a smile as big as I'd ever seen on his face.

Girlfriend? We'd never talked about labels before. Everything had been so complicated that the idea of questioning whether we were boyfriend and girlfriend or not just seemed so out of reach, and perhaps even a little insignificant. Now, though, there was a flutter in my stomach upon hearing him say the word. Maybe it was the fact that we were as far removed from the public eye as we could possibly be that made the idea of calling Harry my boyfriend palatable, or maybe it was just the right moment. Whatever the reason, I didn't completely freeze up when I heard him say "girlfriend." In fact, I was excited by it.

Even so, "You don't have a girlfriend. Well, unless you count Kendall Jenner, which I think a lot of your fans would."

"Evil, you are evil, G," he said. He sounded like he was joking for the most part, but I heard a twinge of anxiety there.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed his forehead. It was a sweet gesture, one I never really did, but once I had, I realized that I liked it. I liked being gentle and sweet with him, the way he was gentle and sweet with me. "Relax, I'm only teasing."

Harry's responding grin was small. His hair had finally dried and little brown wisps curled around his face. It was getting really long now, and while I liked the length, I did wonder if he planned on at least trimming it a little. Since he'd been staying with me, he hadn't been doing much to his hair in terms of styling, letting it hang loose around his shoulders or tying it up in a bun. It was cute seeing him not so dressed up. It felt like he was just a guy I'd met at a bar or on a dating app or something, rather than a member of one of the world's most popular boybands.

"Ah yes, teasing. I prefer your other methods of teasing if I'm honest."

I grinned and kissed his forehead again. "Got it. Teasing of the sexual variety from here on out. But right now, it's my turn to pick our next activity."

Moving away from Harry, I made to shuffle off the bed. Before I could, though, he caught my wrist. "Hey," he said, his other hand coming up to rest comfortably against my cheek, his eyes meeting mine again to ask if he could rest it there first. Instead of nodding this time, I took his hand in mine and rested it on my cheek for him. His lips turned up in a smile. "I—I meant what I said. I want to call you my...my girlfriend. But—But only if you want me to. I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you into something you're not ready for."

I'd been trying to avoid kissing Harry since I'd woken up because I hadn't brushed my teeth yet, but when he said that, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. Harry stiffened against me for a moment, surprised by my actions, but he was quick to respond, kissing me back in full. The kiss didn't last very long since I was smiling too much, though. How could I not smile at something like that?

"I've never had a boyfriend before," I murmured, feeling silly for even admitting something like that.

"Well, I feel very honored to be your first," he replied, a smile as big as mine lighting up his face. It felt good to know that that smile was because of me. He was happy, we were happy. The thought made me kiss him again. "Okay, okay. I love you too. Now go get dressed so we can get our day started."

Nodding, I pulled back. "You're right. But I meant what I said about those pictures, Edward. No one sees them but you, okay? Don't go sharing them around with your buddies."

Harry gave me an amused look. "Buddies?"

"You know what I mean. For your eyes only, got it?"

Harry leaned in and kissed the top of my cheekbone. "I wouldn't want anyone else but me to see them. I'm going to make a folder in my phone called 'my little starfish' so no one will suspect a thing. Everyone will think I'm just really into marine life."

Shoving his shoulder, I left him by the bed to take a shower.

"In fact," he continued, following me. "I think that could be the perfect codename for you."

I stopped on my way to get a towel out of my bag. "A codename?"

"Yeah. We have to be discreet, might as well have some fun with it. You can be 'my little starfish' and I can be..."

"You've always been 'Edward' in my phone. I figure that's discreet enough, right?"

Harry huffed and took my hand in his. "Where's the fun in that?" He tugged me back over towards the nightstand and unplugged my phone from the wall. "Come on, please?"

"Fine," I relented. I tried to think about what to call him, something that would satisfy his need for having fun. Taking my phone out of his hands, I pulled up his contacts and changed the name. "There. I named you 'Chandler Bing.' He was always your favorite on Friends, right?"

"That's perfect," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Is it silly of me to say that I feel like I'm in a spy movie?"

"That's exactly what it is," I told him, tossing my phone to him and heading outside to the shower.

Because of the odd shape of the house, the shower was in a small portable outside. It sounded...unsanitary at first, but when we got there last night and checked it out, it was actually really nice. The shower itself was outdoors and connected to the portable, like a small wooden bathhouse. But it was sturdy, clean, had a nice shower curtain, and good water pressure if the reviews online were to be believed. And it was open and airy too. The window in one of the wooden slats and the open roof was interesting but intriguing all the same. There was something kind of appealing about the idea of showering under the stars or a clear blue sky. This was the kind of camping I could get used to.

I stepped outside and walked over, looking over my shoulder to see Harry trailing behind me. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him and his antics. Clearly he'd had his fun taking pictures of me, but now he wanted more and expected me to just give in to him. I waited until he was just a couple feet away from me to lean in for a quick kiss before turning around again, shutting the shower curtain with a smirk when he tried to follow.

"You did say you liked it when I teased you!" I called from inside.

I heard him laugh, and I knew he was shaking his head exasperatedly on the other side of the curtain. Then, there he was, his face peeking through the circle–shaped window with his dimples indented deep in his cheeks. "Yeah, but only when I get something out of it."

Instead of answering him, I turned around. I undressed and tossed my sleep clothes out the window, knowing Harry would still be there to catch them for me. Then, turning on the water, I let it run for a minute while I used it to brush my teeth and let the steam fill up the small room. After torturing him enough, I pulled back the curtain. I knew Harry could've just opened it himself and stepped in, seeing as there was no way of locking up the shower, but like he said, he liked the games and the teasing. He liked to let me have my fun because he knew if he was patient, he would get to have his.

When the curtain was pushed to one side, he was there in a flash, his eyes flitting up and down like he hadn't seen me naked a dozen times. Even so, the look made me blush, and I quickly helped him out of his clothes before pulling him in with me.

★★★

An hour later I was sitting in a chair shaped like an egg in the main space of the futuristic house. After Harry and I had gotten out of the shower—him for the second time—he told me he wanted to call his family to catch up and see how his father was doing. I nodded and asked him as gently as I could if he wanted me to be there with him, but he shook his head and said he would take the call outside.

I didn't take his rejection personally, knowing that with these kinds of things people needed their space, and I was more than happy to give it to Harry. I had calls of my own to make anyway, wanting to check in on the shop and make sure everything was running smoothly while I was gone. When I told the other tattoo artists in the shop that I was taking a weekend off to go on a small road trip, they didn't seem to mind. In fact, some of them looked a little happy that I was going to be gone for a couple of days, which I tried not to be too offended by.

"It's because you've worked nonstop since you took over for your dad. They're happy to see you happy," Lena said over the phone when I asked her about it.

I didn't realize that other people had noticed how hard I worked or how much time I spent at the shop. I figured they would think it made sense for me to open and close most nights because I lived one floor above it. Perhaps I had a tendency to overwork myself, but I thought I was the only one aware of it.

"Oh please," Lena replied when I said as much to her. "Since Harry's been here it's like you've come back to life. Anyone can see it."

"Really?" I asked, shifting in the oddly shaped chair. "I...guess I'm happier, I just didn't think anyone noticed. We all keep to our separate corners of the studio."

"It's not like anything obvious has changed. The air around you just seems a little lighter, you know? And your smile reaches your eyes nowadays," she said. There was a pause in our conversation while she spoke to someone who must've walked in at that moment, but in a minute or two, she was back. "You just seem happier, that's all. That's a good thing."

I smiled even though I knew Lena couldn't see it. "Are you alone right now?"

"As much as I can be in here. Everyone is working on a client and it's just Cher and me up front. Why?"

"Okay, good. I want to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone, got it?"

"Oh God, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"God no," I shuddered. That was the very last thing I needed in my life right now. "Could you imagine, though? Me? A mother? That poor kid," I said, looking over my shoulder to make sure Harry wasn't about to walk in at the most inopportune time. No, I wasn't pregnant, and I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to be. I didn't think I was cut out for it. "Promise you won't say anything to anyone?"

"For the record, I think you'd be a great mom," Lena said, her voice gentler than it had been a few seconds ago. "But yes, I promise I won't share whatever this is with anyone. Now what is it?"

I pursed my lips, trying to hide the broad grin that threatened to break out over my face anytime I thought about what I was about to say. Lena was right,—not about the mother thing, that would take a lot more convincing—I was a lot happier since Harry had come back into my life. Sometimes I swore my cheeks hurt from smiling so much when I hadn't done so in a long time.

"Don't leave me hanging, Gwen. What is it?"

"He asked me to be his girlfriend this morning." I blurted it so fast, I wouldn't be surprised if Lena didn't understand me.

"What?"

"Harry. He asked if I would—Well, he called me his girlfriend first, but then I reminded him that he didn't have a girlfriend, and then he asked me. And I...I said yes."

We were both silent for a moment after I gave her a skimmed version of the events of this morning. His girlfriend, I kept repeating over and over again in my head. For so long, I just wanted to be his, I just wanted to mean something to him. There were times when I first started to have feelings for him where I would cook up scenarios in my head about how he'd ask me or what we'd be doing when he did. In a hotel room like when we were in Tokyo or underneath a blanket of stars, or running away from a bartender who realized we were too young to be at the club we were in, holding hands and laughing as we raced down the street towards our next adventure. Those daydreams slowly flitted away when I realized that Harry didn't feel the same, and then things got complicated, then lightyears beyond complicated, and then being something like a girlfriend to Harry felt more like a pipe dream than a daydream.

But we'd made it to this point somehow, and it made me happy. A lot happier than I had been in a long time. I would've been okay not putting a label on things for a little while longer. I was content with how we'd been doing things the last couple of weeks, and in some ways it felt like changing our dynamic in any way could disrupt the equilibrium that we'd found ourselves in. After this morning, though, it just felt right. It was surprising, seeing as so much about my relationship with Harry terrified me, and it still did sometimes. But this morning felt like we were solidifying our relationship. We'd still be sneaking around, and as far as the rest of the world was concerned, we hardly knew each other, but something in me settled a little when I told him I would be his girlfriend.

"I'm really happy for you, Gwen. You deserve this and so much more," Lena said, and I could picture the soft smile on her face as she spoke.

"Thanks. For once in my life, I actually believe that."

I don't know what changed in the last few weeks, but I felt good, great even. I still had moments last night when an uncontrollable sadness took over, and the grief I felt for my father would never really go away; but that all seemed manageable now. I had Harry, and I had Lena, too, who cared for me even when I maybe didn't deserve it.

"Good."

We talked on the phone some more. She gave me an update on the shop and told me that Anisha had some ideas for our Instagram page that she wanted to talk to me about when I came back. I wasn't sure what those updates might include, I figured pictures of the work we did at the studio would be sufficient promotion; but seeing as I'd been open enough to taking an apprentice in the first place, I might as well listen to her ideas as well. It might be good to hear from a different perspective, too, a fresh set of eyes and all that.

"Your dog misses you terribly. I basically had to leave a trail of treats leading downstairs this morning because she didn't want to leave your bed," Lena said.

My heart squeezed. Both out of love for my dog and guilt because I'd been so wrapped up in Harry I hadn't thought about Cher since I'd gotten here. I was a terrible mother and I didn't even have a human child.

"How is she now? Is she okay? Is she eating enough? And you know she has to go on her walk at—"

"Relax. Everything is fine. Cher is fine," Lena said, cutting me off before I repeated verbatim what was on the printed set of instructions I'd given to her before I left. "She's a little more mellow than usual, but I've been giving her lots of love and a couple of extra treats today."

"Okay," I said hesitantly. "I wish I could've brought her with me."

"No, no. You and Harry needed this. And Cher did too. God only knows what her poor ears have gone through recently."

"Lena!" I said, my face heating up at her insinuation.

"Oh, would you look at that, someone just walked in. I have to go. See ya!" Lena said in a rush before hanging up the phone. I blinked at my phone for a few seconds before setting it down on my lap incredulously, my cheeks still hot with embarrassment.

She was probably right, though I tried not to think about that when Harry and I were alone in my bedroom. Sometimes I wished my apartment wasn't so small, but living above the tattoo shop was convenient, the rent was cheap because it was the same as when my parents moved in forever ago, and it was the last piece of my dad that I had. I just couldn't give it up.

Shaking my head, I redirected my attention to the things in my lap. I had a book and my sketchbook, having taken them out of my bag before I came and sat down in this chair. At my apartment, I had a small stack of books that I'd never gotten around to reading because of one thing or another, mostly because any free time I had in my apartment was dedicated to furiously sketching different variations of the same tattoo over and over again, and then Harry had come and happily took over. I thought that maybe if I at least started a book on this little vacation, I might be motivated to finish it when I got back home. I knew that how I had been spending my free time before Harry had come back into my life wasn't the healthiest, and I wanted to try and start introducing new hobbies and habits so I wouldn't be so hyperfocused on trying to perfect a sketch that I knew deep down I would never be satisfied with no matter how many times I redrew it.

"Read or draw, read or draw..." I mumbled, brushing my fingers over the surface of each book.

"Did you say something, love?"

I heard Harry before I saw him, the odd shape of the chair I was currently sitting in skewing my peripheral vision. Leaning forward a little, I saw that he'd stepped back into the house, hair now tied up in a bun and phone still clutched in one hand. "No, just talking to myself. How'd it go with your mom? Is everything okay at home?"

There was a small smile on his face at seeing me in the egg–shaped chair, but it faltered at my question. "Uh, yeah. As well as it can be, I suppose. My mum said Robin's having a good day today, and I guess that's all we can really hope for with his condition."

"That's good," I said, hoping my tone and smile were as warm and comforting as Harry had been with me these last few weeks. "You don't have to talk to me about it, but you know that you can, right?"

At this, Harry's smile seemed to strengthen just the tiniest bit. "Of course," he said, coming closer to my chair and kneeling in front of me. He leaned in a little so he could be under the curve of the chair and closer to me. "Thank you. There's just not a lot to say, that's all."

I didn't really believe that. What I did believe, however, was that Harry would talk to me when he needed to or when he felt the timing was right, so I left it at that and kissed him, cupping his chin in my hand. "Good. And now that you're here you can help me decide what to do now. I can't decide between reading or drawing."

Harry went along with the subject change and looked down to where my book and sketchbook both laid untouched in my lap. "I've always wanted to read that, actually."

Looking down at the title, I shrugged. "Keira's always sending me books in the mail, and I'm only now wanting to get around to reading them. She said this was her favorite of the bunch."

His ears perked at the sound of my friend's name. "How is Keira?"

"Fine, I think. Busy with grad school. You probably know better than I do seeing as you saw her last."

The truth was I didn't really know how Keira was doing. I hadn't seen her since I'd stayed with her and her mom sometime after my dad's funeral, and both of us were so busy with our lives after college, we only got to send each other a couple of texts every now and then. It was mostly her, seeing as I'd shut everyone out the last two years, but Keira was one of the only people who never stopped trying. She would send me a text, tag me in something she thought was funny on Twitter, comment on the studio's Instagram page. She had always subtly let me know that I hadn't lost everyone, and now that I wasn't completely lost in a cloud of grief, I realized that it was my turn to reach out, at the very least to apologize for being practically radio silent when she'd been so kind.

"She lives in New York now," I said, mostly to fill the silence that had settled between Harry and me. "She's asked me to visit before, but I never found the time."

"We'll go together," he replied, pecking my knee softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I love New York. I can show you around."

"It's a date," I said, grinning. Harry grinned too, and it was nice to have something to look forward to, even if it was way far off in the future.

Taking the book in his hands, he stood up from his kneeling position on the floor. "How about I read and you draw."

Harry took my hand in his and helped me out of the chair and led me to a couch. I watched curiously as he made himself comfortable across the length of the couch, silently questioning where he expected me to go. But then he looked up at me expectantly, his eyes flicking down to the space between his legs. With my sketchbook and pencils I had rolled up with a rubber band clutched in my hands, I slowly sat down where Harry wanted me to, letting him push me down until my back was pressed firmly against his chest. His clothes were still a little cold from being outside for the last hour, but I didn't mind, just blinked softly as his arms stayed around me as he lifted my book and began to read. Aloud.

I had assumed that he was just going to read quietly to himself while I drew against him in my sketchbook, but apparently he had other ideas. I froze against him as he read, getting used to the feeling of each breath he took against my back. In and out, up and down. It was almost hypnotizing. His voice was warm and velvety with a slight edge to it, his shirt was soft against my cheek as I took a moment to just listen to him, and his free hand was resting comfortably beneath my shirt and rubbing random patterns into my skin. The whole thing was so soothing, I was nearly lulled to sleep.

I finally managed to take a couple of pencils from my pile and open my sketchbook. It took me a while to actually start drawing something, too distracted by the cadence of Harry's voice to focus on anything else. But suddenly a couple of lines were becoming a rough sketch, and then that sketch began to have dimension and shadows and an elegant nose and strong looking hands and long strands of hair. I don't know how long we stayed like that, how neither of us grew uncomfortable after lying in one position for so long, but I knew that it was time to stop once Harry's voice started to sound raspier than it normally did. I took the hand that was still underneath my shirt and brought it up to my mouth so I could kiss his wrist. That gave him pause, and I looked up to find him already looking down at me.

"You should probably stop. I don't want you to lose your voice," I said.

"But you haven't finished drawing me yet."

I blushed and quickly flipped my sketchbook over. I figured we were both so entranced by what we were doing that he wouldn't notice that I'd drawn him (again). Harry hadn't faltered once while he read or made any other indication that he knew what, or who, I was drawing. I supposed this revelation was more satisfying for him. Asshole.

"Yeah, but you're going into the studio this week. You can't sing if you lose your voice," I finally said, effectively ignoring his teasing.

"Fine," he huffed, setting the book down on the floor next to the couch. Now that both of his arms were free, they held me tighter against him, and I found myself leaning into his touch, my eyes closing as his breaths caressed me into near–sleep again. "Can I see it?"

My eyes blinked open. Harry's fingers were brushing against the blank page of my sketchbook, but he didn't try to take it from me. He knew it was personal and private, the same way I would never try and take the journal he wrote lyrics in because they were his innermost and vulnerable thoughts. He wanted to look, but he wouldn't object if I told him no, either.

"Um, sure," I said. He already knew I had the drawing so it wasn't like I had anything to hide.

"Are you sure? If you don't want me to, I understand, G—"

"It's fine, I promise," I interrupted, leaning over to kiss the sleeve of his shirt.

I handed over my sketchbook, trying to find something to do with my hands now that they were empty. I settled for gripping the hem of my shirt, worrying the fabric between my fingers.

"It's...It's amazing, Gwen," he breathed. We were the only people in the house, the only people around for miles, and yet for some reason talking just above a whisper felt right. "I—When—Where did you—"

"It's the night of our first date," I said, understanding what he was trying to ask. "The image of you that night just came to my mind while you were reading, and I just...I don't know, suddenly there you are."

I hadn't taken out my sketchbook and colored pencils today with the intention of drawing Harry. In truth, I wanted to work on designing a couple of new tattoos to put in one of the binders that we kept on display at the studio for customers to look through. But he had completely encompassed my senses while he was reading was all I could think about, so I drew him.

"You looked really pretty that night. Thought I should commemorate it."

"You think I'm pretty?" he asked, but I could hear the pleased grin in his voice.

I shrugged. "Just a little."

Harry hummed above me and gently placed the sketchbook back on my lap so he could hug me tightly to his chest. There was no more talking for a while, both of us just content to just lay with each other. It occurred to me then that we did that a lot, just lying together in silence. I didn't mind, though. I always felt so peaceful when I was with Harry like this—his smell, the little sounds he made, the feel of him all over me—everything about it made me feel safe, loved.

"I think this might be my favorite thing to do with you," I mumbled, holding the arm that was draped across my chest.

I felt pressure against the back of my head, heard the muffled sound of his kiss. "I love it too. Would it be a bad thing if I packed you up and took you with me to LA with me?"

"Mm, I don't think so. LA's not really my thing," I joked, though there was some truth to that. There was a stuffiness in Los Angeles, a kind of elitist atmosphere that I didn't really love. I knew that some parts could be fun and had experienced them for myself, but I wasn't sure if I could live there full time.

"It'll be your thing if I'm there," he promised. "I'm lots of fun. You know that."

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess I can stomach being there for just a little while."

He kissed the back of my head again. "I'll take what I can get."

★★★

"Play something for me?"

Harry was still sitting where I left him by the fire pit. I'd left for a couple of minutes to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, Harry had his guitar in his hands and was strumming it idly and humming under his breath. He'd brought it with him on the trip, but I hadn't seen him take it out of its case since we'd gotten here. Until now. Though when I settled back down in my seat next to him, he stopped. I didn't know why he always got so shy about playing music around me. We were trying to share everything with each other now, but for some reason Harry was keeping this side of him hidden, which seemed so odd because millions of people loved to hear him sing.

"I—I don't know," he said. With the firelight casting shadows over his face, I couldn't really tell if he was blushing or not, but I had a pretty good feeling that he was.

Getting out of my seat again, I took his guitar out of his hands and climbed into his lap. "Please? I'll love you forever and ever. Please, please, please, please, please—"

I punctuated each "please" with a kiss to every part of his face. Never in a million years did I think I would be the type to cuddle into someone's lap and kiss their face repeatedly, but here I was. And I wasn't even embarrassed about it or uncomfortable with it. I loved feeling a smile break out onto his face with each press of my lips to his skin.

"You're already supposed to love me forever and ever. Me playing or not playing the guitar for you shouldn't change that," he said, trying to keep his composure. But I heard it. He was giggling. I rarely ever heard that kind of laugh from him before, and it only spurred me on.

My kisses lingered and my hands wandered up and down the sides of his arms. "Please, bub. I've never seen or heard you play before." That was technically a lie, but I didn't think hearing one of his songs on the radio really counted in this context.

"I'm your bub?" he asked, his hand cupping the back of my neck to hold me in place. His eyes were a darker shade of green because of the shadows from the fire crossing his face, but they searched my face intently. "You promise?"

Grinning a little I said, "If I say yes, will you play for me?" Harry tilted his head to the side as he pretended to think about it. When he finally relented, I kissed him on the lips. "You're my bub," I whispered against him. "Promise."

"You're so cute when you want something," he said, but I just looked at him expectantly. He sighed dramatically when I started kissing him all over again. "Fine, but as much as I love you sitting on my lap like this, I need somewhere to put my guitar."

"Right, sorry," I said, shuffling out of his lap and back into my chair. I watched as he picked his guitar up and rested it where it had been before I took its place. From what I could tell, he didn't look nervous, but he seemed to take his time tuning his guitar and getting his fingers situated on the fretboard. "You don't—You don't have to play if you don't want to. You know I would never actually make you do something if you're not comfortable with it."

Harry smiled. "It's...I don't know, It's personal, you know? Like when you shared your drawings with me. I just feel like I'm sharing a piece of myself with you."

"It doesn't have to be anything you wrote. You don't even have to sing if you don't want to," I reassured him. "I just want to hear you play." Harry still looked unsure, so I continued, taking a different approach. "It could even be as simple as explaining which chords are which if that's easier. I...I just want to be a part of something you're so passionate about."

I couldn't say why hearing Harry play was so important to me, or why I kept insisting that he did it tonight. I just wanted to be close to him. I wanted to know what made him happy, what his favorite songs to sing were and which ones he was the best at playing. I wanted to see for myself the look on his face when he did the thing he loved. Did he smile as his fingers moved over the strings of the guitar? Or was his expression hard as he focused and put his all into what he was doing? I just went so long not knowing this side of him, and now I wanted to know everything I possibly could.

The shadows from the fire danced across Harry's face. He didn't say anything, and I wondered if I pushed him too hard, if he was annoyed with me now after I kept insisting he do something so small like playing the guitar for me when he obviously didn't want to. Did it really matter that much if I heard him play? Maybe I was overreacting, maybe I needed to let this go—"

Then I heard him.

The chords he played were quiet, almost tentative, but he seemed to gain confidence the longer he played. I didn't want to make this harder for him by staring at him as he played, so I opted to close my eyes and listen, my hand reaching over to the chair Harry was sitting in and rested it on his knee. The music faltered for a moment, but he was quick to keep going. I found myself tapping my fingers against him along to the song he was playing, a Shania Twain song if I was hearing correctly. As I listened, I hummed along to myself, smiling a little as the words came to mind.

It was a song about two lovers who after going through so much still loved each other. It was a celebration of love triumphing over everything else. I knew for a fact that Harry chose this song for a reason, that he never did anything without one. He might not be willing to share his own music with me, or sing in front of me yet, but this was enough. It was more than enough. So much so that I was out of my seat and taking Harry's guitar out of his hands again.

"Wha? You asked me to—"

"I love you. I love you so much," I said, untying the knot in his hair so I could run my hands through it.

"I love you too, but I thought you wanted—"

"I know, but you played that song for a reason, you ass, so now I have to kiss you."

"You say that like it's such a burden to—Hey! At least wait until we're inside. Jesus, I should've gotten my guitar out a long time ago if I thought it would get this kind of a reaction."

"Don't tease me," I said, my hands pausing in their place beneath his shirt.. "And I've wanted to hear you play music for forever. That's on you, bubs."

A little grin flickered on Harry's face. "I love you, too."

"I like hearing you say that," I said, leaning down to press my cheek against his chest.

Harry's hands came down to rest on my back, the hands that had been playing the guitar so beautifully now drew patterns against my favorite shirt. My dad's flannel was thick, especially with the hoodie I was wearing underneath it, but I could still feel his hands over all the layers.

"I love saying it," he said, kissing my cheek. "Now, what do you say we go to bed early tonight so we can get up early tomorrow morning and go on a hike."

Propping myself up, I frowned. "I love you, but that sounds horrible."

He tossed his head back and laughed, his chest moving up and down heartily. He squeezed me tighter, not letting me squirm out of the circle of his arms. Kissing the top of my head repeatedly, he said, "Yeah, but you'll do it for me. Because I'm your bub."

"Mm...I guess so, but I get to complain as much as I want. And I get another song from you tomorrow."

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I could taste the promise in it. "Deal," he said. I made a move to stand up, but his hands didn't move from where they were holding onto me. "Just a little longer, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled, already settling myself against him.

My nose was squished against his neck, my cheek on the collar of his shirt. I felt like a bit of a creep for inhaling deeply, but I couldn't help it. I was warm from the slowly dwindling fire, I was relaxed beyond belief—and not just from the edible I'd taken a little over an hour ago—and Harry smelled divine, his cologne, my shampoo, and laundry detergent mingling in a way that had me blinking my eyes slower and slower until I didn't open them anymore. I was faintly aware of Harry humming, the same song he'd been playing on the guitar earlier. The vibrations coming from his chest were low and only made my eyes droop further. Before I knew it I was fast asleep.

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

The Fervent Fox's Hole (A Neia NSFW Fanfiction)

Yes. You read correctly. I am the first person to write a Neia fanfic, and best believe your asses it's not even close to the last. I WILL single-handedly populate all of AO3 if I must. (And if you read the other fics on there, buddy, good luck for your sanity. Really.)

AO3 link

THIS IS NSFW!!! WARNING, WARNING, IT'S HELLA GAY, AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, WELL DON'T READ IT!

@anathemafiction Hi, I'm so sorry to @ you but I'm very proud of myself and I'm incredibly, obscenely even, insanely, in love with Neia. I just can't get enough of her. She has my whole heart and soul and I've maybe gotten 3 hours of sleep the last few nights because of her LMAO

It had been a long day. One that left Neia’s temper roiling under her skin, and a particularly annoying twitch had started in one of her eyes. All she wanted to do was get back to her room at the Fervent Fox’s Hole, a no-ask no-tell inn that’s costing a pretty copper at this point. 

And that also has her temper fuming. The job she’s working on? Fucked more than her damned situation at the moment. Her lack of sleep because the goddamned neighboring room’s owner can’t keep his mouth shut at the crack of dawn? It took all of her remaining willpower to not run the bastard through just to save herself any further annoyance. 

The final straw was the damnable sky opening and pouring itself down upon her head before she was even halfway to the inn. 

At this point, should any sorry sod cross her even one more time on this day, she’s as likely to cut them down as she is to beat them to death with her very fists. Truth be told, part of her hopes someone has the fool notion to push her over the edge. A part of her that craves the bloodshed and violence. 

She slams the inn’s holey dark oak door on her way inside, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth creak at the pressure. She knocks some drunken idiot out of her way in her pursuit to the bar, her lip curling as she hears something break. The bar’s tender casts one look between the crashed drunk and her and seems to think better of the no doubt snarky comment he’d originally planned to say. “What can I get for you?” 

“Something strong enough to kill a lesser man. And make it quick.” She leans her elbows on the bar, one of her thumbs running along the scar that splits her lips absent-mindedly. Exhaustion is starting to sink its claws into her, making the muscles in her arms ache and the pains in her feet are starting to bite. But sleep will simply evade her; she’s too riled. Too angry. 

She comes back to the little dingy bar as a large glass of dark amber liquid is sat in front of her in a half-sized mug. She throws it back, finishing it in one go. It burns her throat viciously, and for a moment her empty stomach twists sickeningly, but it dies down just as fast. She sets it back on the bar so hard it nearly cracks apart. “Another.” 

“Didn’t take you for someone to drink devil’s piss,” she hears a familiar voice remark next to her. She slowly turns her hooded head to look at its owner, her temper making her lips pull into a vicious smirk. The person is in a hooded cape, but she can make out their lower face: fair skin, full lips pulled into a smirk of their own, showing some of their teeth. 

“Didn’t fucking ask your opinion either, so fuck off.” 

“Mmm, I think I’ll stick around for just a bit longer.” The figure turns to face her… and she immediately recognizes your face, the blue-grey eyes that had danced with a hunger of their own the last time she’d seen you, after she’d culled that idiotic bastard Aurelius. 

The anger inside of her blisters into a whole different kind of feeling: hunger. Greed. Need. God, how long had it been? Can’t walk out into public, and most people were immediately skittish when her eyes turned on them.

But not you. 

“Now, what do you think you’re doing here, sweetling?” 

—---

“I could ask you the same, no?” 

You sip on your glass of wine, more than aware of that golden-eyed gaze burning holes into you. Her eyes had changed from blatant anger and violence to… unabashed hunger. Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth. 

“I could ask what inquisition you’re expecting to find in such a dim, dratty place.” You take another sip, trying to gather your courage. It seemed so easy, to follow her and confront her here… and see if her interest was still there. But, now that you’re here, well… 

“Mmm, but I asked first, and I let you get away without telling me answers last time…” She takes a swig of her liquor, rolling her lips as she stares into the glass. “But now… I’m not running at a deadline. And I can tell you’re here for a reason. So. What is it?”

“Uh, well…” You down the rest of your wine, and take a deep, steadying breath. Your heart is beating so fast and hard, it feels like it might leap out of your very chest and flop about on the counter. It doesn’t help when her eyes return to you, and you can feel her gaze like a physical caress. “I’d hope you remember what we left off on. Last time, I mean.” 

A dark chuckle has her shoulders shaking, and you feel your face flush as you watch her tongue trace her upper lip. “Oh, I more than remember, sweetling. So, you tracked me all the way here for carnal pleasure?” 

“Well, when you put it that way-” 

You break off mid-sentence when she quickly slips off the stool and is in your space a lot faster than you ever thought her able. Her lips brush the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “Are you coming to my room with me or not?” 

“Definitely. Yes.” Your words come out in a flurry of breath, your insides alight with butterflies and squirming and God help you, but you’d do anything right now to get her to touch you. Even if it was only her hand around your throat, her teeth on your neck, her body pressing yours into a wall-

Focus. She lets out a sound of eagerness as she leans away, giving you just enough room to get off your stool. Her hand snakes its way to your lower back and pushing lightly as she leads the way to the stairs and onwards to her room. The stairway is barely wide enough for both of you to walk side by side, and your bodies constantly brush against one another until you reach the hallway, and she spares no time unlocking the door and throwing it open, nearly ripping the knob off as she does so. 

You quickly move inside, pulling your cape off as you do so, and looking around the room. There’s a double poster bed against the center of the wall with a dark bedspread. A small dresser sits in a corner next to it, a wash bin is set to the right of the window, and you see a weathered bag dropped to the floor near the bed-

That’s all you get to look, before a warm hand grabs your hip as the other turns your cheek until you can lock eyes with Neia and her golden eyes. Her pupils are blown, her eyes nearly black as first, she meets your gaze, then… her eyes move to your lips, which slightly fall open. Her thin lips twist into a hungry grimace as she stares at them, and as your heart beat starts to thud in your ears, her lips slant across yours. 

Her kiss is far from gentle, and her lips… they’re softer than you expected. They pull eagerly at your own, and you can’t stop the soft groan that bubbles from your own as her tongue begins to tease. You turn fully into her, one of your hands burying into her beautiful, snow white hair. Its damp locks cling to your fingers as she finally fully deepens the kiss, turning it into a devouring clash of teeth and lips and tongues. 

Your other hand starts to work at her armor as she backs you up against a wall with a loud moan, her interest just as clear as yours. She pulls away from your bruising lips to nip and suckle at your neck, no doubt leaving marks there that’ll be visible on the morrow. Marks you look forward to seeing after this. 

“Spread your legs, sweetling,” she grunts in your ear, before pulling back enough to undo her cuirass, then the chainmail around her upper arms. As you do so, her armors crash to the floor in loud thuds, and when she pushes between your knees with her own hips… the warm pulsing in your nethers starts to make your knees weak, and your body is overwarm… but you’re more than happy to feel her weight push you into the wall. One of those strong, agile hands that so gracefully wield her greatsword is now quickly undoing the buttons to your shirt while the other spreads across your stomach. Your breathing flutters as she also undoes your breast band… and you shrug them both off, to bunch behind your back. 

Her eyes hungrily move over your bare chest, and you gasp when she trails a finger down the peak of your breast, her lip curling into a smirk as your back arches. Her hands fall away long enough to pull off her own undershirt and breast band. Your breath catches. 

She’s… God help you. She’s gorgeous. Well, you already thought that, with that scar that runs through her lips and cheek, the way her muscles flex in her arms, but the criss-crossing scars across her stomach, the way her chest moves with every heaving breath while she watches you with a hunger you’ve never seen another have when regarding you… It leaves you barely able to draw breath, makes heat coil in your stomach, a needy heat that begs for you both to be naked already and her hand-

“Mmmmm, sweetling, you keep lookin’ at me like that and I’m gonna ruin my fun,” she almost hisses as her hand wraps around your one of your thighs and pushes her hips against your core, a dangerous expression dancing across her features. The other hand lays flat above your head, effectively capturing you against her.

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” You tease as you slightly arch against her. Captured, indeed.

Not that you mind. Oh, you don’t mind at all, that’s for damn sure. You bury your fingers against the nape of her neck and draw her lips back to yours while your other hand roams her back… just as her hips start grinding against you. You don’t bother to try to stop the moan that rips from you, allowing her better access to your mouth as she finds a rhythm. 

Your hand moves down and slips under the hem of her pants, feeling the muscles of her hips flex as she moves against you. You can’t stop the noises that start to come easily between your panting breaths, your core throbbing from her ministrations. She growls as she rips her lips from yours and instead finds purchase on your neck, not bothering to be gentle this time. You cup her head to you, a dark part of yourself wanting her to leave marks. Wanting her to brutalize your neck with those marred lips and teeth she’s so fond of showing off. 

“Neia,” you whimper, ready to beg her. But for what, you don’t know; all you know is your legs are starting to give on you, turn to jelly and all you want is to keep feeling her, feel those strong fingers move against your folds directly, feel her move against you with nothing between you. 

She seems to feel the same, as she finally tears herself away from you, breathing so heavily that her breasts heave with them. “Neia,” you whimper. You need that sensation back. Badly. And it’s written across her face that she knows. She knows very  well. 

“Shhh,” she murmurs as she drags you to her by your pants, quickly undoing your belt and then eagerly stripping both pants and underwear off together. You shimmy out of them and step to the side. “Get on the bed. Keep your legs over the edge. Now.” 

You do as she says, the soft voice she’s using sending goosebumps over your skin. She follows closely behind, her fingers brushing your hips, her breasts brushing your back. It all sends currents to your core, all her touches to your over-sensitive skin. As you lay back, she kneels between your legs, and with a grin nothing short of pure evil and lust, she jerks you to where she wants you, holding your legs over her shoulders. 

And then her lips and tongue start to move against you. You let out a gasp that turns into a moan, and as you bury your hand in her hair, another rips from you that’s so loud you’re sure someone hears. 

Not that you care. Nothing matters except her lips and how they move, but you can’t help the whine that comes when she wraps one hand around your wrist and pulls it from her hair, then pins it to the bed. “Hands to yourself,” she teases darkly, and as much as your other hand itches to do the same, you instead grab the side of the bed as her tongue moves faster, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your entire body. You toes start to curl as the tension in your stomach tightens in a painfully pleasurable way, your eyes smashed closed as the sensations grow almost unbearable. 

And then it comes. Pleasure spreads through your body, heat radiating with it, and your hips buck against her but she holds you down, her efforts not stopping until your eyes are tearing up as you lightly push her away. As she stands, she moves your legs onto the bed, and when your eyes meet, a hazy smile covers her lips as she swipes her thumb along her lip. “Did you enjoy yourself, lovely? From the sounds you were making, I’d wager you did, but I’d like to hear you say it.” 

“I-” You laugh, feelings of warmth and contentment blanketing you right now. “It was… amazing. I more than enjoyed myself.” You bite your lip as you let your eyes run up and down her, and hers turn half-lidded at your look. “Your turn. Pants off, in the bed.” 

She grins, one so feral that it makes your breath catch as she kicks her boots off, slips her pants down her strong, muscular legs, her underwear going with. She approaches the bed, but she leans over you, one hand next to your side while the other cups your chin, looking you in the eye. 

“It’s cute that you think you give orders… but I’ll allow it. For now.” 

With that said, she climbs over you to straddle you. You wrap one of your legs around hers as she leans over you, one of her arms slipping under the pillows behind your shoulders, while the other grasps your wrist. She brings your hand to her lips, and presses kisses to your fingers, nibbling them, before guiding your hand to her nether lips. 

“You like to lead, huh?” You ask breathily as you start to gently touch her, exploring while teasing the nub that causes her breathing to become unsteady, shuttered breaths against your damp lips. 

“Is that so shocking?” She whispers as her other hand grips the bed tightly. Her lips brush yours with every word, distractingly, teasingly. 

“No. Fits you perfectly.” You chuckle as you kiss her, your fingers moving against her. Her breaths start to become sighs and grunts. When her body starts to grind against your hand, you feel more heat start to coil in your stomach again, your body warming for her again. 

It’ll be a long night. One you’re definitely looking forward to. 

You pull your lips away from hers and instead start to nip and kiss her neck, earning you a shudder from her. From her breathing, the way her hips are moving, she’s getting close. You let your hand stray from her hair to instead tease the sensitive flesh of her breasts, earning you a full moan from her. You let your nails lightly trace the scars covering her skin, then her nipples, all the while you quicken the motions of your other hand and kiss the hollow of her throat. 

Her body spasms over yours, harsh gasps coming from her as she shudders and quakes, and you keep your hand moving even as her hand moves to grip the headboard itself. There’s a groan from the metal just before she takes her hand away to move yours, and rolls off of you and onto her back, her legs spread open and her eyes closed. You watch her chest rise and fall with satisfaction, before glancing up to the bed frame. A hand print has been crushed into the metal… 

A spark of excitement goes through you at that. Calm yourself. 

“So… did you enjoy yourself, Ex-Head Inquisitor Neia?” You ask, feigning nonchalance, pretending to examine your nails while watching you out of the corner of your eye. 

Her lips pull into a smile as she chuckles. “Yes, I did, sweetling. However, I hope you’re not too tuckered out yet.” 

“Mmm, depends on what you have planned.” 

“We have a whole night and morning… I think you can use your imagination for what I have planned.” 

[jinxhallows]

Method Writing (Lucifer x Fem!Reader Explicit One Shot)

-x-x-x-x-x-

HAHAHAHA I wrote this on a whim after exchanging some DM’s with the incomparable @scarlettriot​ (if you haven't checked out her Red Riot shit its incredible!) so shout out to you for the idea queen LOL. Dis just a lil snackie yall aint nothing too crazy LOL as far as I’m concerned in my head this is as subby as im gon get from daddy LUC lmao

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ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ (ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

ᴄᴡ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴅᴏᴍ, ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ ʟᴏʟ, ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ: ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ: ✩⋆  🎀  𝟤.𝟣k  🎀  ⋆✩

-----------------

You sigh in frustration as you lean back in your computer chair, staring hard at the few lines of text you had written.

“Hit another wall?” Lucifer asks, peering over his glasses from across the room where he sat, reading a tattered old book.

“Yes.” You frown, adjusting the display settings on the screen.  Maybe if you made the page black and the text a soft peach color, it would help shock your vision enough to reset your creative juices into flowing again.

Lucifer sets his book into his lap and takes off his glasses.  “What’s causing it this time?”

“I just…” You’re frowned up at the screen, trying to click around and make unnecessary adjustments.  “I’m not used to this kind of sexual dynamic.  When I write, its sounding too...fifty shades of grey-ish.” You settle on a brown page with an orange text instead.

But now you’re bothered by the font style.

As if anyone reading the manuscript would give a shit! You were supposed to use 12 point Times New Roman on the final copy anyway!  Damn it.  You were beginning to overthink and it was affecting the entire writing process that you used to enjoy.

“Isn’t that book wildly popular amongst human suburban wives? I’d perhaps argue it should sound like that if you intend for people to have an interest in purchasing it.”

You drag your hands down your face, pausing over your mouth, carefully trying to choose your next wording.  

“I’m not just doing this for money.  I’m trying to become a better writer, love.” You add the term of endearment at the end of your sentence, trying to sound less annoyed than you actually were.

“You are a marvelous writer, Y/N.  Your thought pattern is girded at the moment, no doubt; but that doesn’t negate the quality of your penmanship.” Lucifer stands up, gently placing his book on the small table next to him as he crosses the room to hover over your shoulder, looking at your screen.

“What a dreadful eyesore, why have you edited the screen like this?” His arm crosses over you to stabilize himself as he leans in front of you, clicking around on the screen to return it to normal.

“Because I was trying to inspire myself, Luc, wait—” You reach underneath him and place your hand over his on the mouse.  He glances down over his shoulder at you.  “Maybe you could help me?”

“That’s why I’m fixing the screen.”

“No, you have to let me write it Lucifer.” You use a stern tone, “You could write this entire book in minutes, I want to be able to do it myself.  I need you to help me in a different way…”

He stands up and raises a brow, “This is an erotic novel.  Do you want me to fuck you?”

You’re briefly taken aback when he drops out of his tightly constructed pattern of speech to say a brazen phrase like ‘Do you want me to fuck you’.

“How do I explain this…I need you to be…submissive for me.”  Your eyes darken, “Allow me to dominate you.  Just a little bit, so I can get a feel for it.”

“My sweetheart, I would love to help you, but submission is not a part of my framework.” He chuckles, “I would have no idea where to start.”

“Exactly.  You wouldn’t start, I would.” You lean back in the chair, folding your arms across your chest as you challenge him.  “I have no idea how to be dominant but if we try together, maybe we can figure it out.  At the very least, it’ll give me a break from all this.” You tilt your head at the screen.

Lucifer runs his thumb over his lower lip, considering your proposition.  “Let’s say I agree to this arrangement, for tonight only...” his eyes meet yours, “You never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

You bite back your shit-eating grin.  “I promise.”

“I’m very serious my love…” He’s towering over you, placing both his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning you back as his scarlet eyes burn through you. HIs lips ghost your cheek and rest right next to your ear and you nearly shiver as he whispers,

“If I hear that anyone knows about this, I will devour you.” he pulls back to look you in your eyes once more.

“Am I understood?”

Wide-eyed, you give a slow nod.  His gaze flits over your face for a moment before he’s satisfied and stands back up.  

“Alright then,” he starts to pull his shirt over his head,  “What would you like for me to do for you?”

You watch him, your thoughts racing and your adrenaline causing you to get a little too excited about this experiment.  Suddenly, this powerful man was going to be at your mercy.  Well, Lucifer wasn’t someone who would go down willingly of course.  All the better, you had to work for it.

Talk about method writing.

You arch your foot, dragging your painted toes up his leg until you were over his groin.  You never take your eyes off of his as you press the sole of your foot slowly into him, taking the time to feel the outline of his cock through his silk pajama pants.

“First thing I need you to do is get on your knees.” You push in a little harder, feeling the slow firmness in his building erection.  “I’m not going to be looking up at my pet.”

His stare remains intense as he slowly drops down onto one knee, followed by the other.  “Like this?” He asks, now at eye level with you.

“Much better.” You praise and reach out to push a few stray wavy black locks behind his ear, “Good boy.” You study his expression and although he remains stolid, his fair skin betrays him as the redness rises in his cheeks.  He claims he doesn’t know what to do, but he listened well; and he was enjoying it to some small degree.  You stand up and push the chair away, beginning to circle around him, contemplating what you were going to do.

Damn it, he was so much better at this than you were.  He seemed to take command of you quickly and confidently, and here you were, overthinking again.

Still, it was turning you on to see him on his knees like this, waiting for your next move.  You suddenly have a strange idea, so you stop directly in front of him and he looks up at you from the ground.

“Release your horns for me.”

Lucifer silently obeys, two curled black rigid horns merging and curling from atop his scalp.  His hooded gaze makes you intoxicated with power and arousal.  It’s like he’s still the one in control, and is only allowing you the brief fantasy of believing you’re the one in charge.

This kind of irritates you, as you want him to fully submit to you.  You curl your fingers around his right horn and give it a tug, “Come.” You command.  He’s down on his hands and knees, crawling across the hard wooden floor as you guide him with your tight grip over to the bar cart.  You let go of him and he’s now staring at the floor.

Good.

Maybe he’s beginning to learn some humility.

His obedience is making you want to just sit on his cock already, but you want to truly focus on the feeling of being dominant more than just the act of intercourse.  You two knew how to fuck, that much was very clear; but you didn’t understand how this dynamic worked.  So you extended the slow burn just how you liked.

You sit upon his back, knowing the limits of his strength.  Of course, he doesn’t waver, and you grab a glass and pour yourself up some of his aged scotch.  You take a sip of it before spattering it back out.

“This is disgusting.” You look down at him and dump the remaining expensive scotch over his head without a thought.  

At first you gasp.

You went too far.

That was mean.

But he shakes his head to clear the liquid from his hair; reminding you of some kind of....goat-dog hybrid, what with his horns exposed and everything.  You notice his hands curling into fists on the ground but he doesn’t look up.  It makes you smile.  Good thing he can’t see that.

“What a good boy you’re being for me Lucifer.  Do you want me to reward you for your behavior?” You run your hands over his head several times, peeling back the wet, soaked locks from sticking to his brow and temple.

He exhales through his nostrils.  “Yes.” He mutters.  You can tell he wants to say so much more.

“Aht aht.” You give a tight yank of his horn, “Yes, what?”

He swallows, “Yes...M...” he’s struggling to say it.  You yank again, harder, forcing his head back at a painfully unnatural angle.

“You better not make this fucking difficult Lucifer, I can get real fucking nasty with you and you’re pissing me off.”

“Yes Mistress.” He finally mumbles, nearly inaudibly.

You stand up and walk in front of him, kneeling down and grasping his chin with your hand as you force him to look you in the face.  “I don’t think you understand what it means to be submissive, Lucifer.  You are not in control right now, I am. So all this useless pride can go in the garbage. I am your Mistress and you will address me as such or I’m going to fuck—you—up–” You squeeze his face tightly, digging your nails into his skin as your teeth clench together; before you finally let go.

You shake your hand from the pain of squeezing.  The deep, reddened nail marks you’ve imprinted into his skin begin to slowly fade as he watches you with an angry glower but doesn’t dare to object.

“Massage my hand you fucking worthless demon.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You place your hand out and he sits up onto his knees again, taking your hand in his own and running his fingers over your skin, kneading into the muscle.  It feels so good, you almost forget the intention you had behind him doing it for you.

“That’s enough.” You snatch you hand away, “Good boy.” You look him up and down before your tone eases by a hair.  “I don’t want to have to be mean and nasty to you Lucifer, but please understand that your ego will be checked accordingly.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Mistress. Crystal.” He replies tersely.

“I’m not a fan of that tone; but we can work on it...” You begin to undo your robe, the satin fabric falling around your body as you sit in his reading chair, your leg hanging over the arm.  His eyes scan over your naked body hungrily.

“You should allow me to clean you up.”  The lust building in his loins was getting overwhelmingly frenetic; but if there was one thing that Lucifer was going to do, it was maintain his composure.  He cleared his throat before asking again, more appropriately,

“Mistress, may I please clean you up?”

Your eyes lit up, “My sweet handsome pet, of course you may.”  You watch as he crawls over to you and obediently makes quick work of the wet arousal you’ve leaked over your thighs from the start.  Your flavor dances over his tongue as he swipes your inner thigh, over your folds, and slowly spreads them apart his lips closing over your pulsing bundle of nerves.  He’s sucking and licking and you are coming undone with how good it feels.

“Oh god that feels so good–” Your head falls back against the chair as the breathy words tumble from your lips.  He stops so abruptly, your head darts up again to look down at his beautiful face between your legs.

“Ah, there’s my pretty Mistress.  I just wanted to see your face.” He kisses your mound, “I love watching it twist up, when I make you feel this good.” His warm tongue flattens over your slit before slipping in between and caressing your clit. You struggle to keep your eyes on him, feeling your chest huffing with your quickened, irregular breathing pattern.  He drops you off the edge of a splintering orgasm that makes your back arch out of the chair, hand tangling in the hair between his horns, your grip tight as you ride out your release with a few bucks of your hips.  You come down with a pleasant sigh, relaxing into the chair.

“I think I have enough now…for the scene at least...” You giggle softly.

Lucifer stands up, and you are at eye level with the prominent stiffness in the front of his pants.  He then leans down to you with a malevolent smile.  

“Oh but we’ve only just begun.” He places his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up.  “This was a fun little game; but now you’ve made me so hard, it hurts. You wasted a very expensive glass of scotch being such a little brat.” He uses his thumb to pull down your lip, pressing the tip into your bottom teeth, hard.  You stare up at him, hooked onto his every word.

“I’m going to have to punish you for that.”  His voice becomes impossibly quieter, almost a demonic whisper, “You’ll have to forgive me, Mistress, but I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

[yoooespinosa]

please do a part 2 for the draco fic where he rejects her i cant be left like that also would love for them to end up together

a/n: I feel like its rushed, idk. I didn't even like how the first part came out, so I had no motivation for this one. Im sorry, I tried lmao.

here’s part 1

"Y/l/n!" A voice just a few ways down the corridor called, the person you've been trying to avoid.

You increased your pace, dodging the people around you and their swinging bags they carried. You knew he called you out in the middle of a crowded corridor because it would be harder for you to get away, which only multiplied your irritation.

"Y/l/n!" He called louder, sounding closer, only making you walk away faster.

"Y/n." He latched onto your wrist, once you escaped the crowd of students, you groaned in frustration.

"What, Malfoy?" Turning to him and yanking your arm free.

He looked taken aback that you actually acknowledged him, unlike the incidents before. He sputtered, you almost laughed in his face-- because, Draco Malfoy, sputtering? You've never seen that before.

"If you're just going to gawk at me like a weirdo," Already turning away. "then I think I'll take my leave."

"No!" He said a little too loudly. Lower this time "No, look, can we talk."

You pursed your lips, masking your face with the indifference that he normally carried himself with. "We don't have anything to talk about."

Once again, you turned away, managing to get four steps in this time.

“Look, can i just-“ He cuts himself off when your steps don’t falter. “Y/n, please.”

You immediately pause mid-step. He sounded, desperate. You let out a silent sigh, slowly turning to face him, his eyes were burning into yours once you met them.

You stare at him until he casts his eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles.

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow, surely he doesn’t expect you to accept that pitiful apology. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” He snaps at you, meeting your gaze once again.

You raise you eyebrow at him, unamused.

“I’m sorry.” Once again, more sincere this time.

Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive him, not right now at least. You didn’t care if it took a lot in him to pack up the courage and apologize, you refuse to let Draco Malfoy walk all over you again. He’ll have to earn your forgiveness.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, his cheeks flush and once again looks away from you.

“I bet you are.” A mumbled response as you walk away from him, just like you walked away from him on the night of his rejection, yet this time you didn’t carry the burden of a broken heart.

Lotus flowers. He somehow got you a bouquet of lotus flowers, your favorite. You’re not sure how he even managed to do that, with such flowers, but he did.

You couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered when you looked up and met his grey eyes, shining with hopefulness, a few ways down the slytherin table in the great hall.

You hadn’t talked to him in a few days and he hadn’t seeked you out, a part of you was a little disappointed, but now that feeling disintegrated.

You actually haven’t talked to the three other slytherins sitting around him either. They apologized too and you reluctantly accepted, but still chose to surround yourself with other people, people who wouldn’t laugh at you behind your back.

“He’s really trying, isn’t he?” Tracey Davis chuckled softly from her place next you, gazing at the beautiful flowers you held in your hand.

“I guess.” You mumble, pursing your lips in thought.

“Well, are you going to forgive him or carry it out a little longer?” Milicent asks, with a smirk adorning her face, you already knew which choice she’d prefer.

You smirk back at her before swiftly casting an incendio to the beautiful flowers, you only regretted it a little, but it was all worth it once you saw the look on his face.

His mask crumbled. Good, i’ll incendio his flowers like he did my heart, you thought bitterly.

The next advance he made was when you were next to your favorite window, in the abandoned corridor. The sun was close to setting, making a beautiful orange tint cast across the corridor.

You heard footsteps, each once coming closer to you and you immediately knew it was him. You had felt him staring at you all day, each one getting harder to ignore. Especially the ones that were burning through your skull when you were around Harry.

But you never gave him the satisfaction of meeting his eye. You completely ignored him, as if he wasn’t there, as if you he was easily dismissible.

“Y/n.” He calls your name once he reached you, voice obviously trying to seem casual.

A noncommittal hum was your response, not bothering to look up from the book you had on your lap, still casually leaning against the wall, basking in the orange rays that hit you.

“Y/n.” His voice was softer this time, softer than you’ve ever heard before, making your head snap to his automatically.

In his arms were a bunch of your favorite sweets, you weren’t sure how he knew which you preferred. You raise your eyebrow in question.

“I know how you like to snack.” He mumbles, laying down the foods next to you, he rambles on. “I know you usually like to watch the sun go down by the black lake, but since it’s colder out i knew you’d be here. You were always the type that liked to snack a lot— i already said that, sorry...i brought your favorites.” He looked at you sheepishly.

You never seen him look so... shy. You were stumped, didn’t even know what to say. You just stared at the food next to you for a minute.

“Thanks,” You say slowly, still trying to process. “How did you know these were my favorites?”

He shrugged, half-heartedly. “I paid attention.”

You scoffed, that same bitter feeling washing over you for a second. “Honestly Malfoy, these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time.” You reused his words.

Regretting it immediately, when he flinched. Looking pained by it. You wanted to enjoy his pain, but nothing about it satisfied you, not anymore it seemed, not when he’s so clearly trying.

He gave you a washed-out smile, “I hope you enjoy them.” Then walked away, you listened till you could no longer hear his footsteps.

You were walking side by side with Harry, desperately trying to listen to the story he was telling you. His hands were whisking in the air, adding dramatics, and every so often he’d have to push his glasses up. You would usually find this amusing, but you were distracted.

Draco had been doing nice things for you all week. You were trying hard to hold this grudge you built, but with you each soft smile and saddened eyes he sent your way, your resolved crumbled.

The butterflies hesitantly coming out their cage.

And he did seem sorry, truly he did, you were so close to forgiving him. You don’t know what was holding you back anymore.

You met his eyes from across the corridor, his eyes softening once meeting yours, then hardening a second later when seeing who was next to you. Yet, he kept his path to you.

“May i talk to you?” He asked softly, not acknowledging Harry, who stopped his animated story.

You looked at the green eyed boy next to you, he took the hint and turned down the opposite corridor. “Yeah, sure.”

That familiar streak of hope flashes through his eyes as he led you down to the gardens to the bench that you loved to occupy.

“I wanted to say i’m sorry, again.” He said once you both were seated, your knees knocked against his when he turned his body towards you.

You nodded, signaling him to go on.

“It was wrong for me to treat you like that, to say those things.” He took a deep breath. “I was stupid, i took advantage of the best thing that ever happened to me. You were always so good to me, treating me with kindness that i didn’t deserve. Will never deserve.”

“Dra-“ He cut you off gently.

“No, just let me get this out first.” He placed his hand over yours timidly, when you didn’t pull away, he interlocked his fingers with yours. “You did things for me that no one else has ever done. I was flattered at first, when i first realized you liked me, i didn’t think you could ever like me. You’ve always been so beautiful, i never thought i would have a chance. But then i find out you liked me. I got the prettiest girl in Hogwarts to like me.” He shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh.

He continued on, “It got to my head obviously, i thought maybe if i shown my interest, you’d realize that i wasn’t as great as you thought me to be. It was so dumb of me, to act like i didn’t like you, i actually got myself to believe i didn’t.”

He moved closer to you, “I understand if you don’t forgive me, i don’t deserve it honestly. Fuck, i wouldn’t even forgive me. But, i would regret it if i didn’t at least try.”

He brought your interlocked hands closer to him, kissing the back of your hand, “So this is me, putting my heart out there, either for you to break or hold in your hands. Please forgive me and give me another chance, that i don’t deserve?”

You didn’t even know your eyes were tearing up until one slid down your cheek, before you could wipe it away, his thumb came up and did it for you.

You didn’t answer, you just placed your lips on his. Caressing his lips with your own, feverishly. Pouring out every emotion into him. He kissed you back with just the same passion. Bringing his hands to your face, caressing his thumbs on your flushing cheeks, tilting your head back as he controlled your lips. Bringing the kiss to a softer pace. Your hands played with the hair on his nape, until he pulled back.

“So, was that a yes?” He breathed a laugh, you could still see the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes, of course, you idiot.”

“Yeah?” He was smiling ear to ear.

“Yeah,” You kissed him breathless once more, then pulling back. “but first you have to get me another one of those bouquets.”

“Anything.” He states softly, placing his lips back on yours, as if he’s done it for years.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia (+Double Penetration - 2 holes)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,397

Warnings: Somnophilia, double penetration, anal sex, sex toys (dildo + plug), dom!Roger, protected sex, light degradation (slut), edging

A/N: This was kind of inspired by a couple of different posts I saw on a (now deleted) porn blog. I’ve been wanting to do something with the concepts for a little while now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity!

I guess I was picturing 70s rog since its a flatmate/fwb type relationship but go nuts imagining whatever you want lmao

It hadn’t been Roger’s idea to set up a friends with bennefits type arrangement, but he’d liked the suggestion when you made it and before the end of the night was out you’d sealed the deal, so to speak. He’d been a touch tispy at the time, as had you, but when he woke up in your bed the next morning he hadn’t believed it to be a mistake, even if you were his flatmate. And so the arrangement (or as Roger dubbed it, The Fuckbuddy Pact) stuck. In an effort to make sure neither of you would feel weird about what happened and to avoid anything becoming too much like a relationship, Roger suggested that you should get all your kinks and weird fetishes out into the open straight away. 

“That way we’ll both know what we’re in for from the jump,” he said, looking at you from the opposite end of the couch, “None of that getting to know you shit, or taking our time. We’re both here for sex so let’s just figure out what sex we’ll both like and get straight into it, right?”  “Sounds excellent,” you’d said, cheersing his bottle of beer with your glass.   It was how he’d discovered your interest in somnophilia (a term he’d not heard before and had needed a thorough explanation of). But once he knew what it was, Roger had been keen to try it out with you. There were other things too but the somnophilia was the newest to him and, thus, the most exciting. Before the month was out you’d figured out a system to incorproate it into your sex safely. The main rule was that if either of you was asleep and naked, it was okay to initiate sex. Eventually there ended up being a few exceptions or addendums added to that rule – it was still okay if the sleeping party wore a top of some kind as long as they were pantsless, and once or twice lingerie had been deemed to not count as clothes, but only on special occasions when you’d prearranged it. It became a regular part of your sex lives, which was especially useful for Roger who often didn’t get home from playing gigs until the early hours of the morning. If you were in bed and undressed, he’d take the opportunity to blow off some of the adrenaline without having to use his hand which was underwhelming compared to your cunt. But, more often than not, you’d do what most sexual partners did and got it out of your systems before bed time.  

Roger already suspected that you were hoping for a quick tumble when he heard the knock on his door, but he had other things on his mind too as he told you to come in.  “Hey, Rog, you busy?”  “Uhhh yeah, sorry, running late for rehearsals but I can’t find my fucking drumsticks,” Roger said, moving things around his desk as he searched for the missing sticks.   “Oh, damn.”  “Let me guess,” he said, pausing in the hunt and turning to face you, “horny?”  “My friend recommended a porn thing and I kinda got worked up.” You shrugged, unembarrassed to admit what you wanted.  That self-confidence was enough to make Roger wish he could stay and give you what you wanted but he was already late and couldn’t afford to be later. Instead he laughed and turned back to double check his backpack, “I would but, I’m leaving as soon as I fin- Aha! Bloody things must have rolled off the bed. Sorry, Y/N.”  “Oh, no worries. I’ll take care of myself.”  He smiled at the thought, “Well I better go. See you tonight?”  “Yeah, see ya. Have fun.” 

It was later than he’d expected by the time Roger got home. Part of him (the part in his pants mostly) vaguely wondered if you’d still be up for something but the bits of him controlled by his brain thought it more likely that you’d have had a nice couple of orgasms on your own and called it a night. Still, he thought he might at least check in on you once he’d dropped his bag in his room. To his surprise though, his bed wasn’t empty like it should have been. He jumped when the light from the hall softly illuminated you, on your back and deep asleep, but his shock quickly turned to delight as he realised you were naked.   “You little minx,” he muttered under his breath, impressed by the invitation you were giving him. But as he walked closer he paused again, noticing something he hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. There, beside your hand, was your favourite glass dildo, as if you’d passed out after using it.  “Oh you are naughty,” Roger chuckled. He traced one hand down your body, between your breasts and over your stomach, and softly said your name, checking if you’d rouse. But you were deep asleep and not likely to wake up any time soon. A plan for what to do with you forming, Roger stepped away from you for a moment to strip down to his briefs. His cock was already beginning to stir at the sight of you. He reached out to touch you again, less cautiously this time, palming your breasts before dipping his hand lower and lower, down to your cunt, pleased to find you still wet from whatever you’d been doing before you fell asleep.  You let out a soft hum as he explored you, thumb teasing over your clit as he wet his fingers between your folds.   Roger paused at the sound, not ready for you to wake up yet, but once it was clear you were still asleep he sank two fingers into you. Slowly they penetrated your heat, pausing to make sure the sensation hadn’t roused you at all. But you slept on. Carefully Roger partially withdrew his fingers before sinking them in again, gradually working up to a consistent thrust that had your unconscious body sighing and spreading your legs wider.   “Good girl,” he whispered, watching you carefully. The hall light was still on but his door wasn’t open fully so the darkness was only dimmed slightly. He twisted his fingers inside you, easily finding the spots that usually made you scream his name but which now just made your eyebrows knit together. By this point in your relationships Roger was quite confident that he could understand your body. He’d made you cum enough times, awake and asleep, to know what you liked and just how much you liked it. And he knew what it looked like when you were close to orgasm. Which is how he knew to stop, to still his fingers and wait for you to calm down.  

There was no real reason to edge you. If anything it just made it more likely you’d wake before he’d got his dick wet. But he had fun with it. Watching the way you’d shift, your chest rising and falling more rapidly, your lips parted as whimpers fell from them, your hips automatically rolling to meet his hand. And then he’d stop again. It made him chuckle quietly to himself. Knowing he could control your body so easily was thrilling. It made him want to do it more. So as soon as your face had relaxed again, your limbs loose and limp, he’d settle into the rhythm once more, curious how much you’d take before you woke up and begged him to finish you off. It was tempting to just keep going. He pictured you waking with a moan, your first words a plea for release or better yet for his cock so he could fuck you properly. Roger groaned. In the time he’d taken to edge you a handful of times his dick had well and truly stiffened and, as much as he enjoyed toying with you, what he really wanted was to cum in you so when you woke you’d know you’d been used. With that thought in mind he withdrew his fingers fully, taking a second to suck them clean and enjoy your taste. Having you on his tongue just made him want to fuck you more so he carefully knelt between your legs, shifting one to give himself a better angle. He was moments from finally taking what he so wanted to take from you, when something caught his eye.  

It didn’t glint as much as it did in the day but he could see it’s outline all the same. And when he double checked that he wasn’t imaging it, pressing his thumb against the hard end of it, you groaned.   “A dildo and a butt plug?” He asked you, knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Is that a surprise for me? Or is it just because nothing satisfies you like I do?” Roger’s hand slipped down to his underwear, pushing his briefs down enough that he could get his cock out. He hissed as he spread his precum along his length, contemplating how he should use you. “Could fuck your cunt now and hope you stay asleep long enough for me to get back there. Or maybe I should just go all in, have your arse straight away. That’ll mean wearing a condom though. Or would it?” he shook his head, now was not the time to try anal raw for the first time, “No, condom definitely.” He was still trying to decide what to do when you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your side. The new position you lay in made it much easier to reach your arsehole.  “That decides it then,” Roger said to himself, shedding his underwear and opening his bedside draw for his lube.  

Carefully, he settled himself behind you and slowly began to remove your plug. It took a few stops and starts, pulling out and sinking in, almost fucking you with it, as you whimpered in your sleep but you seemed to press yourself back towards him as if trying to encourage him.   “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” he chuckled as he set the plug aside and spread the lube around your hole. He rolled the condom down his shaft and spread the lube along it too, humming at the slick friction of his hand, knowing he was about to feel something a hundred thousand times better. And then he lined himself up, pushing the head of his cock into the ring of muscles you’d so generously stretched out with your plug. He went slowly there too, partially so you’d sleep on and partially so he wouldn’t cum embarrassingly fast.   When he finally began to fuck you, you moaned into your pillow, able to feel it in your sleep.   Roger bit his lip to keep his own moan from getting too loud.  You moved in your sleep again, your legs opening more as you half rolled onto your front. It let Roger fuck you deeper and gave him better access to your pussy too.  “You’re a bit of a whore when you’re alseep,” he said softly, reaching for the dildo. You were still wet enough that it sank into you easily, like it remembered where it had been earlier and fit into your cunt perfectly. The way you lay meant he didn’t have what he’d call easy access to you but it was enough that he could thrust the dildo somewhat rhythmically. He faltered here and there as the feeling of fucking you distracted him but he didn’t feel too bad about the slips, knowing it was keeping you from reaching your release. Your sleepy sighs and moans got louder as he filled both your holes which just made him fuck you harder, enjoying the sounds you were making and wanting to hear more.  

You woke with a broken moan in your throat, jerking under Roger’s hands but he shushed you, his palms warm against your skin and his voice familiar and reassuring.   “Stay right there, baby. Being such a good set of holes for me to enjoy.”  You couldn’t do much more than moan again, dazed from the sudden way you’d been pulled back to consciousness and realising what you’d felt in your dreams had been very real indeed.   “This was what you wanted wasn’t it? When you fell asleep in my bed.”  You nodded, the sound of the fabric of the pillowcase loud against your ear.  “Uh uh, words Love. If you’re going to be a slut the least you can do is admit it.”  “Yes, Rog. Want-wanted this.”  “Good girl. And how do you feel now?”  “Oh god, close. So close.”  Roger slowed the pace of the dildo, putting more effort into thrusting into you, his hips slapping loudly against your skin.   You keened at the loss of friction.  “Slut-s don’t com-complain.” Roger grunted as he used you, “They t-ake what they’re giv-en.”  You whined but that just made Roger laugh, louder now you were awake but broken by groans and moans of his own.   It didn’t take much more for him to cum, stuttering out, “Fu-ck Y-Y/N,” as he did.  

Roger was panting as he eased himself out of your arsehole, replacing his cock with the plug and giving your hip a light tap of thanks. The dildo was still inside you, but he’d not been moving it at all as he reached his climax so it wasn’t much help.   “Did you cum?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as he flopped onto the mattress beside you.  You shook your head and sighed, “And after I waited here all night to surprise you too. Thought you’d be home sooner.”  “Is that why you had the toys? You got bored waiting for me?”  “No, I was expecting you to come home while I was using them. Only then I came and fell asleep.”  "Of course,” Roger laughed, “you still got your shag though, don’t know why you’re complaining.”  “I’m really fucking horny still, that’s bloody why. What are you smirking about?”  “Nothing. Just nice to know edging you in your sleep works just as well as when you’re awake.”  “Prick!” you squealed though unable to contain your smile at the idea.  “Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes to clean up and get my stamina back and then I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.” 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[jiminrings]

yoongi grills stem koo’s ass <3

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo wants to explain himself and yoongi may not want to listen

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

“the one that’s all knuckle?”

oh my god

IS THIS A RIDDLE????

yoongi tilts his head in amusement when this pathetic excuse for your past crush is calculating what he just said in his mind

what is a sandwich that’s all knuckle?? but it doesn’t even rhyme!!

aren’t riddles sUPPOSED to rhyme????

jungkook’s more than well-versed in stem-related problems that are just rephrased 237 times over and over so that it wouldn’t be as easy to solve

he can solve that!!!

but this!!! :O his mind is short-circuiting pls do not approach him

“hm?” yoongi’s smile patronizes him further and puts him on the spot, straightening his figure and jungkook’s quick to stop him from coming back inside your dorm

“i want to-“

“i asked you — have you ever had a knuckle sandwich?”

yoongi enunciates with so much clarity that kook finds his mind blanking, tripping over his words he hasn’t even formed yet

“i-is it-...” he stalls, trying to rack his mind for the bread he’s not sure he’s ever even heard of in his life, “i-is it like, a pork thing? uhm, t-the pig’s knuckle? and then you put it between, uhm, bread?”

,,,, laughable

jungkook’s supposed to be smart, isn’t he? or atleast that’s what yoongi thinks he’s supposed to be

lmao he would’ve laughed at the boy’s poor attempts if only he wasn’t furious at him

he’s dumb but not the endearing kind ://

“no,” yoongi drawls out, pretending to fish something out from his pocket

jungkook watches in intrigue, thinking that yoongi’s reaching for his phone to show him a picture of what it looks like

the hypothetical situation in jungkook’s mind is clearly not the one that happens

jungkook SHRIEKS as he stumbles on his heels backward — crystal clear to him that yoongi was not looking for his phone, but instead balling his fist and him being the receiving end

almost the receiving end

yoongi almost sucker-punches jungkook in a blink, fist literally a millimeter away from his nose and the only thing he could see at the moment is red

... red and jungkook’s wide eyes that have never carried this much fear up until now

“that’s a knuckle sandwich, kid. would’ve fed it to you if only y/n isn’t in the room right behind me.”

holy fuck

his heart is beating right against his ribcage and that shouldn’t be possible, fists closing upon themselves nervously as he tries to soothe his thumb so his mind relaxes

spoiler alert: it doesn’t work

jungkook’s mind is all over the place, even more rattled than it was when he takes a text without studying (he was so low he got a 98), but the only thing that’s clear is that you’re behind this door

“yoongi — mister yoongi, please. i-i need to explain myself, and if only you let me try, i can!! i swear. i’m not forcing you but-...”

there he is again

jungkook’s only been in his sight for like two minutes but his eyes are already sore

“why are you even here?” he scowls and even if the younger boy’s taller than him, every bit of his posture and demeanor at the bite of his words scream small, “why go all this length for someone you stomped on today, then have the gall to be a crybaby about it?”

he's speechless and it only serves him right, looking at his mudded-up converse and trying to focus on anything besides the guilt within

"m-my explanation," jungkook mutters, hands behind his back as if he's being scolded, “will you tell y/n?”

yoongi releases an agitated breath at him muttering your name

he dOESN'T get to say your name!! no!!! not after what he did to you

“i’m not concerned about you. what i decide to do or not, has nothing to do with whatever you say right now.”

kook solemnly nods, and even if yoongi's much harsher in your words compared to yours, the gravity of yours with him not being related to you cuts deeper

there's nothing else he could care about, actually

jungkook follows campus curfews to a T and would come home two hours earlier in the rare event that he goes somewhere

but now, he couldn't care less when the dorm master could just be there any second and he'd pass a hall monitor like usual

for the whole day, you were the only one that occupied his mind

"i know hyeji isn’t the one."

god, it was clear as day

he'll be the first one to admit that he can't read people very well, but he knew from the start that it's probably not hyeji who's been packing his lunchboxes

jungkook sometimes takes attendance in behalf of the professor because as much as he's shy, he's also a teacher's pet

the classes she shared with hyeji? she wasn't present everyday for the whole duration of two weeks, and how could it be that she still managed to make him a lunchbox if she wasn't present in the campus at all?

there was a probability that it could've been her, but it was so low that it sat right next to improbable

"i-i entertained the possibility briefly that she was, but then nothing was making sense the more i thought about it."

jungkook sometimes also checks papers because his professors trust him enough and he has perfect scores anyway, so he uses his own as his answer key

"i needed to interview y/n for an assignment, a-and a signature above a name was needed and it was just so familiar."

the moment he racks his head for hyeji's writing, it seemed fAR from the writing on the sticky notes on the lunchboxes

"then she seemed mad at me, but when i went to her on the field to try and confront her-" jungkook pauses and almost whispers the next part, the shame on his skin starting to seep into his bones, "she told me that we weren't related for me to feel hurt about it."

yoongi clenches his jaw, a pressure forming on the center of his eyebrows because he knows where this is leading

"a-and i thought it was hyeji again."

jungkook can't bring himself to be elated that it's been you the whole time because he might be a little too late; a little too late when he's already subjected you to the heartbreak you didn't deserve

"i-i didn’t know what clicked in my mind but i was just so hurt that-"

that's the fiNAL straw for yoongi

this has been him trying to keep his anger at bay the whole time, but this one!! this one he can't just accept

"you are a fucking asshole. honestly."

jungkook slightly winces with the sudden cussing, but it barely scratches the surface

"you think you’re the only one hurt? tell that to me who’s never seen y/n cry so hard before — or even cry at all."

his explanation wasn't an excuse and he knows it, but nonetheless, it tears him apart

"i’m sorry."

his lips quiver and he's trying sO hard not to cry in front of his senior, but yoongi doesn't feel even the slightest remorse for the kid

"i don’t care. you don’t apologize to me; you apologize to y/n. whether she forgives you or not, which for the record i don’t think she should, you cannot take back what you said."

if what jungkook said was eVER said to yoongi, given that he had the same circumstances as you did, he wouldn't know how to bounce back at all

it's a pain he doesn't wish to feel and he could only helplessly look at you who's trying to navigate it

perhaps you don't even plan to navigate it — knowing you, you're just gonna sail through it all to the point you're not giving yourself enough time to even realize that you already are

it was the same cycle of trying to move on without grieving through it properly that it hurts yoongi and seokjin and the tiny amount of people around you

"grovel at her feet. cry her an ocean. commit penitence. whatever you wanna come up with, no matter what, you do not make my y/n feel like she isn’t deserving of love."

you're family and yoongi goes above and beyond for family.

"i don’t care if you make up. i don’t care if you don’t. all i know is that in any other place besides outside the room she sleeps in, i’d hurt you like you hurt her."

jungkook almost wishes that yoongi punches him now and he won't even try to dodge it

"i deserve it."

"you do."

they whole-heartedly agree and it's the only time that yoongi can get behind jungkook's words

"i’m always gonna be on y/n’s side, kid."

there's no other way around it and as much as you know it or not, you've cemented your position in yoongi's heart unknowingly

"the only way that i’m gonna be on yours is when you’ve earned my utmost respect," he can't even see when that happens, crossing his arms across his chest, "and you don’t."

jungkook's tears are falling to the floor but they don't get on his cheeks, the sudden set of footsteps coming from his side making his head straighten and wipe his eyes immediately

he's the only one alarmed and he spares yoongi a glance, then to said person

yeah right that couldn't have been you :((

the guy who's approaching doesn't stop walking and he looks like.... he's uh,,, coming to where he's exactly standing????

he seems oddly familiar though

“oh, taehyung!"

where did he hear that name before??

taehyung stands at the same height as jungkook, maybe a centimeter or two taller, but he just couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of his eyes

yoongi's oblivious to jungkook's ongoing deduction, immediately engulfing taehyung in conversation

"y/n’s already asleep. i could do her part of the project-“

he offers because he recalls that right, you told him that taehyung's coming over to finish your shared project of a business plan late tonight

uhhhhh you're kinda zooted and going through it rOUGH so yoongi doesn't mind doing your contribution for you

“yoongi!! oh no man, it’s not what i came here for," he leans for a side hug, eyes landing on jungkook to drop a polite smile to acknowledge him

jungkook only slightly bows, confused but even more intrigued because he heard your name in the conversation

"i just uh, i just saw y/n crying while i was on my way home awhile ago, and i didn’t get to ask why, but i felt bad, so i came by to drop some cookies.”

oh

taehyung continues talking and it leaves yoongi and jungkook stunned, but he only focuses his attention on the former

“you looked like a hazelnut cookie kind of guy, so i baked some too!! is y/n allergic to peanuts? i put some too in a separate container in case she is.”

yoongi laughs and they go from there

IT'S LIKE JUNGKOOK ISN'T EVEN HERE!!!!

baby he's here he's nOT a hallucination!!!!

despite the fact that he's sticking out like and (unacknowledged) sore thumb, no one makes a move to take the conversation elsewhere

“thanks, tae. damn, you did all this yourself?”

yoongi whistles when he takes the tupperware opening it and almost watering at the sight

he doesn't mind baking cookies for you in case you wake up hungry, but taehyung really just did himself a nice favor without knowing it

he smiles softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue now that he realizes

"taehyung. no offense, but you’ve only interacted with y/n like once and it’s only for a project. why would you bake her uhhh 28 cookies?”

hehe

“35, actually :D”

tae interjects, waving him off when yoongi's jaw drops even further

“yeah, i know. i just felt so sorry for her — i’m not related to y/n but i just felt like i wanted to make her feel better.”

jungkook's jaw locks at this, his breathing becoming shaky all over again, fists balled this time

“it’s like,, economics!! i don’t actually know, maybe??? i’m in visual arts. y/n took over my part for me when i was sick-“

".... so you made her 30 cookies."

taehyung's the personification of a golden retriever and now that he thinks about it, jungkook reckons seeing him more than a handful of times

he laughs deeply at yoongi's rebutt and it may be in unfortunate timing that jungkook realizes he kNOWS him

he's in the same year!! he's the one that takes the portraits for the school paper and it's always his name in the credits

"good night, yoongs. hug y/n for me. tell her i'll take over her part, no questions asked."

taehyung walks away and he's perfectly content even if he didn't get to give you the cookies like jungkook thought he would

"night, taehyung."

yoongi looks at the retreating figure briefly, then looks at jungkook pointedly

he doesn't realize that he's still budging and listened on an entire conversation, dropping his head when yoongi points to the elevator

"bye, jungkook."

"good night, yoongi."

he feels hesitant to leave but it's probably for the better, putting his hands in his pockets still not enough to make his hands stop trembling

kook stops at the middle of his walking, turning his head to look back at yoongi whose mouth already has crumbs

"c-can i see y/n tomorrow?"

"i'm not her dad."

jungkook nods somberly, leaving it at that while his bulk of emotions consume him

he thinks all about the ways he could attempt to make it up to you, a million ideas in his head but his head doesn't hurt

his nose twitches at the lingering scent the cookies left, annoyed at the persistent smell and perhaps the boy that brought them

jungkook's never really liked cookies.

[padme-parker]

Mizpah // the darkling x f!reader // ch 7

summary: You and Aleksander come to a disagreement discussing who should be able to wear Morozova’s collar. Zoya is put in her place. Alina has a talk with Baghra. 

warnings: swearing (I think??), violence, baghra being an old hag.

A/N: frfrfrfrfr sorry this took so long lmao, it was very unmotivated to finish. not proofread, I was halfway asleep when writing this so sorry for any mistakes. Listen to a great song while ur reading lol!

YOU thought back to what the letter in your pocket said, something had changed within Aleksander. Before he was the Darkling, he was your Aleksander. That naive, loving boy was now gone. Replaced by the rough shell of a man. He sought out the power to protect his people, power that you could wield.

“Aleksander,” His name left your lips in a hushed whisper, “..what if I want the stag for myself?”

“No, I won’t allow it. We have Alina for that.” His dark gaze bore into yours. His eyebrows scrunched together, suggesting the conflict within him. He wanted for you to have the stag, more than anything. But he wouldn’t let it happen if that meant losing you, he realized that now, centuries too late.

“I won’t allow you to put the life of my friend at risk.” You shook your head, Alina deserved to live a happy life with Mal. Far away from the war and the Little Palace. Somewhere far away from your Aleksander.

“So then you agree, it’s a risk. I’m not going to let you take it. Not when I just got you back.” He said, reminding you of the many times he’d lost you to the stag.

“Things are different now. We have better weapons. More Grisha willing to fight than ever. We even have two sun summoners.”

“The Fjerdans have a weapon that fired multiple bullets at once.” The haunting images of Mikhael and Dubrov being shot down entered your mind. They had been your friends too, even if you weren’t as close to them as Mal was. “And the Shu, they’ve always had far more advanced technology than us. Like I said, no one can know about you being a sun summoner.”

“But..” You longed to feel that giddy warmth you felt when you summoned, a glow that you could feel radiating from you. It was the same glow Alina had on her face whenever she summoned. The glow Zoya had when she used the wind to push you into that stone wall. You hovered one hand atop the other, waiting for something to happen. A simple spark, then nothing. A frustrated sigh left your lips.

“It won’t come that easily, my love. That’s why Alina and I must banish the fold together. Only then can we truly be together.”

“You said-” A memory comes flashing, candles and lanterns flickering. The two of you laid naked in a bed, a thin sheet covering you. His hand resting on your hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. He whispered something into your ear, moving his hand from your hip to glide over your collarbones. You shiver at the memory. “You said that you and I were going to change the world. So what’s changed?”

“I thought that there would ever be only you and I. That there would be no others like us. But I was wrong, we have Alina now-”

“You have me! I didn’t know it until now, but you’ve always had me.” You raised your voice, startling him. “Do you tell the same thing to all the sun summoners you meet? Or was it just me and Alina, oh wait..” You scoffed out. This was ridiculous, you came here for the truth. Not to argue with an ancient man.

“It’s not like that, I thought I had lost you forever. I mourned you for centuries, even the day I met Alina. I mourned you until you finally returned to me.” He takes your face into his hands once more. You’d become increasingly aware of just how naked he was, you eyes darting down to the towel that was holding on for dear life. “I can’t spend the rest of my life mourning you again, knowing that you may never return.”

“Fine.” You weren’t giving up, not yet. But you didn’t want to spend another second with him when he was just a slip away from flashing you. You make your way to the door, but before you could even touch the knob, you're in his arms once more.

“Where do you think you're going?” His voice was deep, raspy. His hold on your wrist was gentle as he stared at you, waiting for you to answer.

“To sleep.” You said, as if the answer was obvious. “In my room.”

Aleksander exhales, heavily sighing. “You could stay here..” Even after centuries, you were still the one person who could make his heart flutter. The only one who could make him nervous. He didn’t show it visibly. But from the smirk on your face, he could tell that you knew the effect you had on him. “..with me.”

You observed his room, hexagonal in shape. All the furniture was black, keeping to his theme. Quite possibly the most horribly decorated room you’ve ever been in.

“Do you really live like this?” His room lacked the life and warmth you seeked. There were bookshelves that ranged from floor to ceiling. Images of a forest etched onto the walls. He may have lived here, but it was clear it wasn’t his home.

“Here? Yes. But I wouldn’t call this living.” He surveyed his own room, looking at everything from his bookshelves to his domed ceiling above his bed. “Just merely surviving. The Little Palace isn’t my home.”

“And what is?” You’d already expected what his answer would be.

“You.” He hears you scoff at his statement as he lets a smile paint his features. “Our home, just north of Kribirsk.”

“We have a home together?” You tried to imagine what it would be like, a comfy little cabin in the woods. The General you knew wasn’t one for modesty, he rode around in a black carriage for Saints sake. But maybe for you, he would have settled down for a simple life.

“Well, would you call a run down castle a home?” If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could visualize it. A stone castle overgrown with vines, some of the structures had tumbled to the floor. You could hear the rushing water in the background, most likely a river. Fields of lavender surrounded the castle. The lavender and honey bar of soap came to mind, he remembered what you smelt like. A smile came to your lips. “What, do you think that's funny?”

“No, it’s just..lavender and honey. You remembered.” You teased, using your hand to cover your mouth to subside the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.

“Besides your belongings, it was the only thing that kept you fresh in my memory.” He walks closer to you, something akin to cinnamon, rain, and honey wafting towards you. Such a similar scent, but so different.

“Well,” You said, removing the gold kefta revealing the black slip on you had worn underneath, “If we’re going to sleep in the same bed, can you please put on some pants.” You set the kefta on a chair, feeling his gaze on you. His eyes taking in your form as you kept your back to him. The next thing you heard was the shuffling of his feet, then his towel dropping to the ground. Your eyes widened as you resisted the urge to whip your head around.

“You can look.” He said, but you knew he hadn’t even put on his trousers. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

“I know that, but I haven’t yet in this lifetime.” You let out a nervous laugh as you toyed with the lace detailing of your slip on.

“We can change that now if you’d like.” This time, you whip your head around. You're thankful to see that he’s got his trousers on now, along with a shirt. The corners of his lips quirk up as he takes in your reaction, “I’m just kidding.” He said, followed by a whisper, “maybe..”

“No, no. You and I are just going to sleep together. I mean sleep in the bed together. As you know, like friends, but not friends-” You stop yourself before you could go on. “Aht, you know what I mean.”

“Are you nervous?” He questioned, his eyes looking at how you fidgeted with your clothes. “You always find something to fidget with when you’re nervous.” The statement made you drop the lace of the slip on, clasping your hands together behind your back.

“I’m fine.” liar. But who wouldn’t be nervous? This was the infamous Darkling, and you were going to sleep next to him. You reassured yourself that you weren’t like the others. How many of his flings did he invite to stay the night when he was finished with them? Probably none. Besides, you weren’t a fling, not even close to it.

“You know you can trust me, right? I won’t do anything you're not comfortable with.” You let out a hum as you made your way towards his bed. He copied your actions, lifting up the covers and getting in them. He patted the spot next to him, waiting for you to move. You go to take off your night slippers and place them at the foot of the bed, noticing that he had also placed his boots near the foot of the bed.

“So, that’s where I get the habit from.” You said as you got into the covers, sitting awkwardly next to him. “I assume I get my many habits from you then. Just not sure which ones.”

“There’s a long list of them,” The fidgeting of your hands and feet make him laugh, “That one, surely doesn’t come from me.” Before you know it, you’re encapsulated by his arms. You let out an oomph at the sudden movement.

“Comfortable now?”

“Very.” You replied as you snaked your arm across his waist, your head resting on his chest. Listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was your first time being in his arms, but it felt so natural to you. A memory from Caryeva surfaced, golden eyes that stared back at you as you melted in his embrace. You shook the memory from your mind, not wanting to think about him when you had Aleksander next to you. “Do you think we could visit the castle?” You whispered, playing with the fabric of his tunic.

“Anything you want.” One of his hands goes to your hair, gently playing with it. The other stroking the soft skin of your shoulder. It was a routine that came naturally to the both of you, as if the missing puzzle pieces had fallen into place. “That’s actually where I went for the week. I knew that sooner or later, you would remember me. I wanted our home to be just the way you remembered it when you arrived.”

“That’s very nice of you…” Sleep was finally catching up to you as the truth weighed heavy on your mind. Aleksander continued to play with your hair even when you saw the steady rise and fall of your chest, signalling you were asleep. Careful not to wake you, he kisses the back of your head with a smile. You were finally in his arms once more.

-

THE feeling of someone breathing behind you had pulled you out of your sleep. It wasn’t a situation that you found yourself in often. But the warmth he had been radiating had almost lulled you back to sleep, almost. The arm that was loosely thrown around your waist had pulled you closer until he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning, my darling.” His deep, raspy morning voice had stirred something in your stomach, a fire igniting in your core. “How did you sleep?” You removed his hand from your waist as you turned to face him.

“Fine, now that you’re beside me.” You had to admit, it was weird sleeping in the same bed so soon after finding out the truth. But you didn’t want to take any moment with him for granted. “I had another memory come to me while I was asleep.” He urges for you to continue, “I think we were at the castle. The sun was setting, giving the room the most beautiful haze. There was no music playing, but we were dancing in each other's arms.”

You see him smile as you describe the memory to him. He abruptly gets out of the bed, only to offer his hand to you. You wearily place your hand into his, a giggle leaving your lips as he tugs you out of bed and into his embrace.

“There’s no music!” You said as he twirled you around.

“It didn’t stop us last time.” He swiftly replied before pulling you back into his arms, settling for a slow sway. You could feel the fabric of his trouser brush against your legs at his every movement. Laying your head on his chest, a feeling of ease overtook you. You closed your eyes as you got lost in his hold.

It was a feeling so foreign to you. All your life you had always been on edge, even as a child at Keramzin. You could never let your guard down. But with Aleksander there was a side to you that you never knew. One that allowed you to relax and finally be happy. It was a side that neither of your closest friends had seen, ever. When survival was always your priority, you were never given the chance to be at ease.

“Open your eyes.” Once more the room had been engulfed by your light. You looked at your hands as they were glowing, a shocked laugh leaving you.

“Are you doing this?”

He shook his head before replying, “No. This is all you.” You noticed the lack of his shadows in the room, signifying he had no part in what was happening.

“I thought you said it wouldn’t be easy for me to conjure light.” You closed your hands and watched as the light faded, the only indication that you had summoned was the glow on your face.

“I guess being at ease helped you. From here it should get easier by the day to call forth the light.” He explained, a prideful look on his face.

“Does that mean I can have the stag now?”

He lets out a sigh, “No, like I said. I won’t risk your life for the stag again.” His resolve remained strong, never once showing a change of heart.

“But I’m getting stronger, within months I’ll be able to summon at my fullest potential!” You insisted, keen on having the stag on you instead of Alina.

“The key word here is months, we don’t have that time anymore. I’ve already spent months training and mentoring Alina. The people are getting restless, they want to see the shadow fold gone. Immediately.” He responded.

You opened your mouth to reply, only to get cut off by the frantic knocking at the door.

“What is it?” Aleksander growled out, irritated by the interruption.

“Sir! It’s the girl! She seems to be missing. We’ve searched everywhere for her, General.” Fedyor’s panicked voice rang out. “I’m so sorry, I’ve failed you, General Kirigan.” You roll your eyes as you go to open the door. Probably not the smartest idea since you were just in your nightgown.

“I’m right here Fedyor, no need to worry.” He takes in the disheveled state of your hair. Not yet combed since you’d just woken up.

“Oh sorry, did I interrupt?” He sends you a suggestive wink, which he prays that the General didn’t see.

“No. In fact, I was just leaving.” You looked back to Aleksander, a bewildered look on his face. “Have a nice day, General! I’ll see you later for dinner, like we discussed.” You hoped he caught onto your excuse.

“So, you and the General..” Fedyor began, his shoulder bumping into yours in a teasing manner.

“We were just merely discussing plans.” You lied, which wasn’t very much far from the truth.

He gives you a once over, “in your sleep attire?”

“It was an urgent matter.” You replied, stilling as you remembered you had left your kefta in his room. You’d just have to fetch it later.

“I’m sure it was.” He snickered. Soon the two of you parted ways, you to your room as he went to combat training. You decided to get changed for the day. You put on your usual military outfit, along with your weapons strapped to you. It’s not like you needed them when you could summon the sun from the tips of your fingers at any given moment.

No one can know. His voice rang clear in your mind, reminding you to limit the use of your summoning. You flopped onto your bed with a sigh. You were in the Little Palace and still managed to find nothing to do. You remembered the books you had so carelessly tossed when you encountered the Apparat.

Reaching for one of the books, you began to read it. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you decided to put down the book. It had been intriguing, but the strain on your eyes was becoming too much. The sun was still shining bright, you decided that you could explore the grounds on your own.

You threw on your jacket, doubling checking to make sure you had your weapons on you. The cold winter wind nipped at your skin as you clutched your jacket closer to you, trying to maintain your body heat. You resisted the urge to join the Grisha as you walked past the combat training area. The thought of fresh air had been appealing, hoping that it would help clear your mind. But it did little to ease it. There were so many questions that you didn’t know if Aleksander could answer. Have you always been a sun summoner? Why wouldn’t Aleksander let you take Morozova’s collar for yourself? How long had it been since he last saw you?

Soon, you found yourself in front of a fountain, a bench a few paces away from it. The old pictures on the stone made you laugh, how wrong their story was. You knew Aleksander, or as they called him, the Black Heretic, had regretted creating the fold. He did so out of anguish, the loss of you becoming too much. Ever since then, the two of you had collectively worked together to destroy the fold. But it seemed like the Saints had other plans for you each time.

“Something funny, otkazat’sya?” Zoya’s voice boomed out from behind. You spun around, finding that Zoya had been accompanied by the oprichniki Grisha as well.

“Shouldn’t you be minding your business, Zoya?” You must admit, it was a lame comeback. But it was the first thing that came to mind.

“I’ll mind my business when you finally leave the palace.” She and the oprichniki took two steps towards you as you took a step back. “Why are you even here? What could the General possibly want from you?” She taunted.

“Well, there’s a long list. Would you like to know?” You didn’t wait for her to reply before continuing, “For starters, I’m not easy. Not like you.” Zoya raises her fist, nearly summoning before the oprichniki stops her. “The General actually enjoys my company, can you believe it! I don’t need to seduce him to keep his attention.” She breaks loose from the oprichniki’s hold and lunges towards you. Before she can even reach you, she has a pistol drawn to her head, your pistol.

“Take another step and you’ll see for yourself if the Saints are actually true.” You threatened. Zoya could have easily summoned air to misdirect the bullet, no one would see. “You know, after being reprimanded, I would have thought that you’d learn your place. But perhaps you haven’t, so let me remind you.” You put your pistol away as you approached her. She lets out a yelp as you grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her to her knees as her eyes flew up to yours. Your other hand had a harsh grip around her jaw. “I maybe be otkazat’sya, but you’ll find that my aim is accurate. I make no mistakes, Zoya. Remember that the next time you try to cross me.” You released her as she fell to the ground, tears in her eyes. You didn’t know if they were from embarrassment or fear, it’s not like you cared either way.

“Well, well, well, just what exactly do we have here?” Aleksander’s form came abruptly from the forest, as if he had been watching his whole time and he just now decided to make his appearance.

“Nothing. They were just leaving. Isn’t that right Zoya?” You stared at her as the oprichniki helped her up, the two of them scurrying away, leaving you alone with Aleksander. “Pathetic, aren’t they? How long were you watching?”

“I saw them following you and decided to follow them. I knew you could handle yourself, but I wanted to watch the show.” He entwined your arms together as the two of you took the long way back to his room, a path where no one would be able to interrupt or spot you.

“Did you enjoy it?” You questioned, stroking the soft fabric of his kefta.

“Seeing you put Zoya rightfully in her place? Yes. Although I do wish it was you who was on your knees.” He suggested, making a gasp leave your lips. “Anyways, it was time to fetch you for lunch. I know you didn’t have breakfast, and you wouldn’t be able to last until dinner.”

“Why thanks for the concern, my knight in shining armor.” You looked at his outfit again, choosing to reword your statement. “Correction, my darkling in a black kefta.” Now that you were thinking about it, you’d never seen him in anything else but black. Sure there were some memories here and there of him in a different colored top, but he left those colors behind when he’d lost you.

“So, what’re we having for lunch today?” You asked, the two of you continued walking towards his room. There were no interruptions, no others. Just Aleksander and y/n, the way it had always been. The way it’ll always be, until eternity.

-

MEANWHILE in the sweltering heat of Baghra’s hut, Alina struggled to get a grip on her sun summoning.

“What’s wrong with you, child?” Baghra chided, the thought of hitting Alina with her stick had crossed her mind one too many times today. She was about ready to throw her into the fire pit.

“I’ve noticed something.” She began, “Ever since my friend arrived at the Little Palace, it’s like there’s a side of Ale..” Alina let his name die on the tip of her tongue, it felt strange to be saying his given name. “..there’s a side of the Darkling I never knew existed. She’s brought out something in him. Something I haven’t been able to do in the months I’ve been here.”

She felt something comparable to hatred flow through her veins. But she could never bring herself to hate you. Not when you were practically her sister. No- she hated the way she’d so easily given into the Darkling, and how easily he’d thrown her away. She hated herself for giving up on Mal.

“You must tell me child, what is her name?” Alina had never heard such urgency from the old hag before.

“Y/n, her name is y/n y/l/n.” Her eyes widen in shock as she sees the smallest smile come to Baghra’s face. “Do you need a healer or something? Why are you smiling?”

Baghra left Alina in silence as her mind whirled with the possibilities. But there was one echo that was louder than the rest of them: Hope.

-

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[wri0thesley]

hi! please do not talk to me! i am just as disappointed in myself as you are!

arrangement - naoya x fem!reader (3.7k)

warnings: naoya is just an asshole lmao, misogyny, arranged marriage mentions, degradation, humiliation, spitting, unhealthy ‘relationship’. afab reader, fem pronouns

despite your clan elders’ best intentions, you are clearly not a good match for someone as well placed in the world as naoya. still. that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun with you. 

You should have known that it was a fruitless endeavour.

No matter how nicely your hair might be set and your clothes might be chosen, how intricately and carefully your makeup applied – how pretty your manners might be . . . This was never going to go anywhere. Oh, your elders might have thought this was a good idea, and sure it would be – if it were possible. If your clan wasn’t hanging on by the skin of its teeth already. If you’d been blessed – if that was the right way to put it – with more cursed energy than you had been.

But you were not. It had been clear to you the moment you had been – cordially, politely – introduced to him. You hadn’t looked him in the eye – you’d been briefed on what he was like enough to know that – but you’d still sensed the flickering of his gaze over your form. You’d still seen the curve of his mouth into a cruel sneer.

“What a pity,” he’d said, tone not belying an ounce of the pity he mentioned. “I’m far too busy for acts of charity.”

You should have left it at that. You should have accepted it was not to be and went back to your own clan with your tail between your legs, just another failure – or perhaps, you should have looked up into his eyes and spat at him and insisted you were worth more than that. If you had been braver, if you had talked back--

But you do not. Inside, you are meek and quiet. You are cowed by what you know is the power that is at his fingertips, not just physically but also in the sheer luck of having been born as he was born. You duck your head. You feel your cheeks warm. Something about the sneer on his face, the mocking tone . . . sends a curl of heat right to the centre of your belly that you desperately try to ignore.

Tripping over your words, you apologise to him.

For wasting his time.

And it’s that which sets these particular events in motion.

Naoya sees how easily you bend under just his words and the weight of his gaze on you – and though, of course, you are not fit to be his wife the way that your clan elders clearly wanted you to be . . . he likes the idea of your eyes, downturned on the floor. He likes the idea of you on your knees before him. He likes the idea of being able to throw you around, and you, deferential as you take it.

No, even though you would walk three steps behind him and be behest to his whims, you lack the impressive lineage and the splendour of a great union that Naoya is looking for in a wife. But that does not mean, he thinks, as he watches you leave, his eyes following the suggestive curve of your body beneath the layers of fabric, that he cannot have a little fun with you first.

You come to his rooms without an ounce of hesitation. You must know, surely – after the way he treated you at your introduction – that he has no pure intentions. Certainly, the servants milling about his estate know as you’re shown to where he wants you.

Good. Your eager acquiescence just cements the fact to him that he has made the right decision; you will be weak-willed and desperate to please, and though he has no intentions of honour when it comes to what he’s going to do to you, he knows you will do it anyway.

“You came,” he says to you, as you stand across the room, where he’s lounging, entirely at ease, against the pillows on his bed. Your entire body fizzes. You know you should not be here.

(There is something about him that your body cannot deny.)

“I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a whore.” You flinch at the word, though that strange curl of heat returns to your middle. You fight it off as best you can. He sees how you swallow, the way you respond to the name – and he is smirking again, rising from the pillows, walking over to you with all of the grace of a predator. His fingertips reach out, tracing the line of your chin (your skin is pleasingly soft beneath them). “That’s what you are, right? Your clan elders sent you here to see if that’s what you’d be for me.”

He tips up your face. It’s the first time that your eyes have been anywhere near his, and he’s delighted to see the flair of panic and confusion in your gaze. Cute.

“That’s not—” You say, your voice very dry. You struggle with the words, knowing despite yourself that part of him must be right – if you were not, surely it wouldn’t have been as simple as him summoning you and you going there--

“You can’t honestly think you’d have made me a wife, hmm?” He lowers his head, too close to you – your entire body feels like it’s thrumming with energy, buzzing with unrestrained tension. “You’re pathetic.” The word is practically a purr, and your body responds in kind – Naoya, seeing how your eyes cloud over, how you have to stop yourself biting your lip, is delighted.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, desperate, miserable. You don’t understand why your thighs feel slick and your legs feel shaky, or why your head seems to have clouded over with thoughts that refuse to take proper shape.

“Aww.” His thumb slides across your lip – and you find yourself opening your mouth without meaning to, letting him slide the tip of his thumb in and press down on your tongue. “That’s right. You’re cuter when you don’t talk.”

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you could, anyway – not with how dry your throat feels. Naoya clicks his tongue.

“Suck it, then,” he tells you, with the air of an impatient man giving orders to a puppy dog. You suppose that’s what you are, really – because you do close your lips, and you do lathe your tongue across the pad of his thumb. He’s still smirking at you, damnably attractive if only for the air of self-assured cockiness. “You’ll want to get used to having something in your mouth.”

His other hand comes up and pushes the kimono you’re wearing (too formal of a kind, really – but your clan elders had wanted to show deference to the Zenins, and they had hoped that perhaps you would be meeting your future husband, and everybody knew that Naoya would prefer a traditional young bride--) to one side, exposing too much of your collarbone and chest.

“Not bad,” he tells you. “Not good enough for me, of course but . . . you’ll do for this.”

You hate that you know what ‘this’ is. You hate that you have no protest to give as he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and turns his back on you.

“Take them off,” he tells you. “Be quick about it. I don’t have all day. Women can be so slow.”

Your hands are shaking as you go to untie your obi. Your self-preservation instinct is telling you to run. Naoya stops where he is and turns his head, his lips still tilted as he sees you’re doing as he asked. Oh, but you’re fun – he feels like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Hurry. Up.” It’s a snap, all pretence – he’s rather enjoying the shaking and the trembling. He can’t help but look at you hungrily as the fabric pools about your ankles in your clumsy undressing. “Before I change my mind, and send you back out into the estate like that.”

Why are you still doing what he asks? You finish undressing and shiver in the cool air, standing there, waiting for whatever he’s going to tell you to do next.

He reaches the bed and turns, sitting on it. He’s entirely casual about the whole thing, his elbows resting on his knees as he steeples his hands together and just looks at you. You burn under his gaze.

“Yes,” he repeats. “You’ll do. Come here--”

You take a step forward, only to stop as he holds up his hand. He takes the patient tone of a man talking to an animal once more.

“Not like that. Think about it, come on. Your head is above mine. That’s not very respectful of you, is it?”

He swathes the words in velvet, making them sound like a question – but you can hear the steel inside of them. The order. He doesn’t need to tell you twice, before you’re sinking onto your knees with your throat dry. Your thighs press together, slick friction making you shiver as you crawl towards Naoya. He tips his head to one side and smiles coldly as if his smile is a reward.

(He watches the way your ass moves as you crawl. He can hear your laboured breathing in the quiet room. In the low glint of the light, he can see the hint of wetness between your thighs.)

You’re so eager to please, even knowing that Naoya is going to use you and discard you. Just as you should be. You feel lucky he’s giving you the briefest time of day.

“Stop,” he says, and you jump to his command as if it’s law. Perfect. He takes a handful of your hair and drags it, pulling you forward so that your face is close to the stiffness that you probably can’t tell he’s sporting through the loose fit of his hakama. He jerks your face so that it rubs against his thigh through the fabric. “Well?”

The bob of your throat as you swallow. You look up at him with your eyes filled with confusion.

“As much as the position suits you,” he says, tone clipped, “are you so stupid you don’t know what I want you to do?”

Oh. Oh.

You are still on your hands and knees. You go to bring one of your hands towards the ties and are stopped with a ‘tch’ of impatience, Naoya kicking at it and trapping it beneath his foot on the floor, with little care about how you wince. He doesn’t hold back his strength.

“You’re going to touch me with that after it’s been all over the filthy floor?” He asks, arching one thin eyebrow. “I don’t think so. If you’re going to be as gormless as an animal, you may as well act like one. Your cheek.”

Heat floods your cheeks once more as you realise what he wants. By now, the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making you wet has become all encompassing, not at all helped by the friction of your thighs or the way that Naoya is talking down to you. You should not be turned on by it. You should be disgusted by him, glad he doesn’t want you as a wife--

So why do you let out a soft whimper as you lean your cheek forward like a docile animal. It presses against something hot and hard, obvious even through the fabric. You don’t let yourself look at him, embarrassed by how easily you let him tell you what to do – if you were looking, perhaps you’d have seen the brief way his teeth dug into bottom lip, seen the softest exhale of his breath. (It’s better you didn’t. He does not like to show weakness.)

He lets you nuzzle against his cock for a few moments, enjoying the sight of you on your knees, your head bowed – but it is not enough for him. Not when he knows you’ll let him do whatever you want.

The hand still in your hair drags you back unfeelingly, letting go of you on the back swing. You almost overbalance – but you have been well-trained in the art of grace. That would have been something he’d have looked for in a wife, if you had been better placed.

Almost a pity, really.

“I’d ask you to undo it,” he says, as he goes to untie his own complicated knots. “But you’re shaking. Are you that eager to suck my cock? Slut.”

He’s right, you are and you are and you are--

There. There’s no going back for you now, as Naoya lets the hakama drop and then rests back on his hands, unconcerned, as if this kind of thing happens for him every day. Hell, for him, maybe it does – surely you’re not the first poor young woman who has been sent by people more powerful than her to try and please the Zenin clan. For some reason, the thought that you’re not the first, that you’re not special, makes another ricochet of heat twist low between your thighs.

“Well?” He asks, mockingly. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You’re shaking as you approach it, opening your mouth.

“Not too much teeth, now,” he says lightly. “You don’t want to see me get angry.”

(Maybe you do? But you want to please him just as much, so you open your mouth wider, try and let your lips relax--)

He lets out a sigh as your mouth engulfs the head. He tastes salty and musky – you do not have anything to compare it to, but it’s not exactly unpleasant. You experimentally lick across the head of his cock, where the slit is leaking pre-come – and for that, you win a fluid hiss of pleasure. The idea that you’re pleasing him makes you squeeze your thighs together in search of stimulation and friction, a dull jolt of pleasant warmth spreading through your sex. Oh, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life.

“More of your tongue,” he says to you, and you do your level best to accommodate – your tongue lapping at the veins of his shaft, travelling along the underside. Your jaw feels stretched wide, and you know you are drooling a little. You shift on your knees without being asked to, taking him further down your throat – you sense a twitch in his cock, the slight relaxing of the muscles in his thighs, and a shiver of pleasure runs through you at the idea that he is enjoying what you’re doing.

Pleasing Naoya suddenly seems the most important thing in the world to you – and certainly it feels the most important thing in the world to that emptiness inside you that you feel sure would be filled perfectly by Naoya’s cock. You take him further and further. You hum low in the back of your throat and Naoya’s fist on the bed flexes – you delight in it.

Every time you do something that makes his body respond in even the smallest of ways, you feel a full body thrill run through you that starts in your cheeks and makes it’s way to the junction between your legs, soaking you, making you vibrate and twitch with need. You have never felt so hungry for anything as you do the idea of Naoya touching you--

The crown of his cock bumps against the back of your throat, making you gurgle wetly – tears springing to your eyes at just how much of him is stuffed in your mouth. It’s this that finally spurs Naoya himself to action, once more returning to grabbing at your hair.

His hips begin to piston, thrusting his cock in and out.

“You’re . . .” He breathes, in between great pumps of his hips. “Almost good at that.”

(It’s the closest he’s come to praise so far and the sound of his voice, thick with hunger and lust, is locked away inside some secret part of your mind – you know you will not be able to touch yourself without his voice, the hitch of his groans, coming back to you in a cadence finer than any music you’ve ever heard).

He uses your mouth like he’d use his own fist, pumping fast and hard, his cock kissing the back of your throat with every glide. His breath begins to get shorter, and as you feel the flesh of the shaft twitch beneath your tongue, pulsating, you ready yourself for the salty rush of his release coating your mouth. You’ll swallow everything he gives you, maybe he will call you a good girl for your troubles--

He doesn’t. The hand wrapped around your hair (so neatly arranged, when you’d arrived at the estate – now, a mass of tangles, nothing more than a handle for Naoya to grab onto) jerks.

You cough at the sudden tug. You know he was close, you felt it – so why had he pulled you off of him? The noise that escapes you is half wounded-animal, half confusion – Naoya is sneering down at you, his hand around the base of his cock.

“Open your mouth,” he tells you – and you obey. You want him to come in your mouth! You want to be good for him, you want to swallow down every drop. “Do you really think you deserve to taste my seed? When you’re so . . . inferior, in every way? So . . . inadequate?”

“Please,” you whimper, through the haze of neediness and the ache in your jaw. “Please, I want to, I’ll be good--”

“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You really are pathetic.” You nod, frantically – if you agree with him, maybe he’ll do something about this all, you’re too far gone to have anything close to rational thought. He laughs at you, a sound like a bark – and then, he’s spitting directly onto your mouth, the mess landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.”

Disgusting, you’re disgusting, why isn’t the way he’s acting doing a thing to dampen your desire? You swallow.

The curl of his lip is unfairly attractive. You think he’ll pull you even closer to him, make you open your mouth again and come directly down your throat until you’re coughing all over the floor – but he doesn’t. He moves his hand, pumping his cock – and then, he’s coming, his shaft twitching in his own grip--

And his come spurting across your face, painting your cheeks. You close one of your eyes to stop it getting in there, but it’s a feeble task – you feel it on your face, dripping down your nose, you know some of it has gotten into your hair. Through the one eye still open, you see Naoya’s smug face.

“Did you really think I’d come in your mouth?” He asks, all cruelty. “You don’t deserve to have my seed inside you. In fact . . . Hmm.” He relaxes, looking at you where you’re a mess on the floor. Your kimono and all the ephemera of what you were wearing lies in a discarded pile across the room where you’d taken them off. “You can put on your clothes, I suppose. But . . . don’t clean yourself up. Not even with your sleeve. You should be proud a nothing like you gets to wear it.”

He flaps his hand at you, clearly dismissing you.

“I—I--”

Your voice sounds cracked and strained and small in the room. Pathetic. Just like you. But more pathetic is the heat that seems to cling to every inch of your skin that you know will not go away until you’re touched.

“You . . . you . . . you what?” He mocks you. Your face, all heat, your big blown out eyes darkened by lust . . . He narrows his eyes and smiles, but it’s a smile that’s utterly mirthless, cold as dawn frost. “I’m not going to lower myself to touching you.”

(You think you were expecting it; but still, your sex clenches around emptiness, practically pulsating as he derides you again. Perhaps you are a glutton for punishment.)

You bow your head. You know, if you stand up, Naoya will say something about your head being above his again – so you stay on your knees, crawling towards the pile of clothes. Naoya is drawn once more to the way the slick is dripping down your thighs, the inviting slit of your sex--

“You’re so wet I can see it from here,” he jeers. “Disgusting. You really are a slut, huh?”

Your fingers fumble with the fine fabrics. If your clan elders knew how you had left your formalwear here, on the floor of his room--

You tie the knots. You cannot do anything about the mess on your face, drying too quickly, sticky and uncomfortable – but part of you wants to wear it like a badge of honour.

You finally let yourself stand up, stopped only by a mocking little sing-song of your name, the mocking inflection of the cute honorific at the end that he shouldn’t be using for you--

You turn to him for the final time, too embarrassed, too wet, too hot and aching to meet his eyes. You concentrate on his mouth instead (you know that mouth will haunt your daydreams, blanket quiet night-times when your hands delve between your legs and you have to bite your lip to stifle your sounds.)

“Perhaps,” he says, with the air of a man bestowing a great honour, “perhaps your clan elders need not know I’ve rejected you yet.” A brief flare of hope in your chest, that he sees and takes a fierce, primal kind of pleasure in snuffing out. “Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve no intention of lowering myself to marrying you. But . . .”

That grin, barbaric, cruel, cold, heartless.

“It’s only proper for a man of my stature to have a mistress,” he tells you. The idea should disgust you. Why doesn’t it? You need to find a quiet place to hide in the Zenin estate, where you will not be interrupted – where you can press your fingers inside of yourself and imagine they are his. He takes great pleasure in adding; “And I like a woman who knows her place.”

One more flap of his hand – this time, a final dismissal.

“I’ll see you again,” he says, as you slip out of the door--

It sounds like a threat.

[erensangel444]

focus, spence

spencer reid x reader

EEK! i’m excited for this one, turn it up!😫this is my first ever spencer reid fic, so i hope this is okay! i love criminal minds, and reid is baby so i thought why not?

this fic is spencer x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions, if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

this fic has been proofread, but if i missed something just let me know!!!

a/n: this is probably the dirtiest fic i’ve written, so proceed with caution LMAO. cue the tik tok sound: i like to be fucked like a sluttt😁....okay i’m gonna stop now.

warnings: explicit language(most of my fics do contain language), sub!spencer, dom!reader, creampie(not explicitly detailed), overstimulation, oral(male receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it up!).

word count: 1.5k

summary: you come home to spencer eagerly describing how you should start a garden, yet you find yourself eager for something more.

spencer reid was, at times, the most complex person ever, but in this moment, he’d been dumbed down to soft moans and shaky words. “what happened to the book, spence?” you moaned as you continued to grind on his cock, “thought i told you to keep reading,”. spencer threw his head back at your words and at the pleasure he was receiving, lifting the book closer to his eyes, his glasses falling further down the bridge of his nose. you noted the light blush that had occupied his cheeks now that you were above him, and the way his mouth remained slightly agape, soft whimpers flowing out of it. 

you had come home to spencer reading walden by henry david thoreau, and as he noticed your presence he began to ramble on about why you needed to start a mini-garden on your shared apartment terrace. though your heart did flips at his adorable eagerness, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering further. 

the way his hands moved along with each of his words to fully enunciate them, your mind flicking to images of his fingers plunging in and out of you. his lips moving so quickly, tongue slipping out every once in a while due to the speed of his words, more dirty images flashing across your mind. 

not being able to take it anymore, you pushed spencer down on to the couch, his ramble quickly coming to an end as he peered up at you, brown eyes wide and pupils dilated. “why don’t you tell me your plan for our garden while i ride your cock?” you rasped out, spencer visibly gulping at your sentence. “uh, um..” “spit it out spence,” “yes please! please...want it,” spencer whimpered. 

you unbuckled spencer’s pants, tapping the side of his hip for him to lift up so that you could pull them down his legs. you began to palm spencer through his boxers, spencer letting out a soft moan at the sensation, “fuck, need it please!” spencer pleaded. you smiled up at him, reaching for the hem of his boxers, but before you could tap his hip for him to lift up, spencer’s hips were already raised off of the couch. 

you grinned at that, peeling spencer’s boxers off of his legs, now facing his cock. it looked almost painful, how hard he was. you lightly circled your finger on the tip, spencer whimpering loudly. “grab the book spence,” you ordered. “huh?” spencer spoke, confused, but also slowly becoming lost in the slight pleasure you were giving him, truly trying to hold himself back from thrusting his hips up for more. “did i stutter,” you spoke sternly, looking up at spencer, moving your tongue down to the base of his cock to lick a stripe up his length. 

spencer moaned, hands fumbling for the hard-covered book. “now why’d this book have you so set on starting a garden? you’ve got to provide some evidence, pretty boy,” you spoke, as your hand lightly jerked spencer’s cock. spencer racked his brain more than usual, his thoughts becoming hazy from the pleasure as he tried to recall what pages he had read. he flipped through the book as your mouth suckled on his tip, spencer moaning for a moment as he flipped to the page he had remembered. “th-this is the result of my experience in raising beans,” spencer began reading.

spencer groaned as your began to bob your mouth up and down his cock, pausing his reading for a moment as he moaned at the feeling. “fuck,” the word sounding so foreign coming out of spencer’s mouth, “loo-look so pretty,” he groaned, and instead of voicing out a response calling him the pretty one, you began to suck more eagerly at the compliment. you tapped his thigh to signal for him to keep reading as he moaned, picking the book back up. 

“but abo-above all,” spencer’s words were shakier than before, his breaths becoming more shallow, “harvest as early as-shit!..possible,” spencer couldn’t contain it anymore, moans falling out of his lips with ease, as he attempted to thrust into your mouth. “fuck! fuck! i’m gonna cum please,” spencer moaned. you jerked your hand quicker at his words, focusing your tongue on the tip of his cock, as spencer’s whimpers grew in volume, and finally, with a loud moan, his cum flooded your throat. 

you jerked his cock leisurely until you felt you had fully milked him for all he was worth, pulling away and sticking out your tongue to show him the cum you held in your mouth. spencer groaned at the sight as you swallowed his cum, not enjoying the taste, but not hating it either. “fuck that was so good,” spencer said softly.

“who said we were done?” you grinned at spencer, as his mouth fell agape, “but-but i can’t,” “sure you can spence, look your cock is still hard, that’s an issue we’re gonna have to solve yeah?” “but i-i just came, i don’t know if i can- it’s not,” you cut him off, your hand turning his face so that his eyes met yours. 

“let’s pause for a moment, yeah?” you spoke softly, pausing the scene you had dived into. “if you really don’t think you can, tell me. i won’t be mad. and if at any moment you can’t take anymore, tell me and i’ll stop like this-” you snapped. “but if you think you can be a good boy, and take one more, tell me.” you rubbed your thumb against his hot cheek as he looked at you so innocently. 

“i-i can take it,” he whispered. “are you sure, i’m okay either way, i want this to be good for you,” you smiled at him. “i want it. ple-please i need it,” spencer whimpered. 

you grinned at him, pulling his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. “god, such a good boy,” you spoke, your words fluttering as you lowered your entrance down onto his cock. spencer’s moans were louder than before, his facial expressions so lewd at the incomprehensible pleasure he was receiving. “oh my! fuck!” he moaned as you began to grind on his cock.

“what happened to the book, spence?” you moaned as you continued to grind on his cock, “thought i told you to keep reading,”. spencer threw his head back at your words and at the pleasure he was receiving, lifting the book closer to his eyes, his glasses falling further down the bridge of his nose. you noted the light blush that had occupied his cheeks now that you were above him, and the way his mouth remained slightly agape, soft whimpers flowing out of it. 

not even a second later, spencer’s hand fell back down onto the couch, the book along with it. “fuck i-i can’t read anymore! just need- just need to cum!”, groans and moans flying from spencer’s mouth. “yeah? gonna be a good boy and cum for me? god i’m so close spence,” you spoke. spencer took your words as initiative, his hands flying to your hips as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. your own moans growing in volume as you locked onto spencer’s lips, tongues slotting against the other’s. 

“fuck i’m gonna cum spence!” “please cum, please!” spencer begged, not sure how much longer he could hold on. your walls convulsed at spencer’s words, the wave of your orgasm washing over you as you creamed all over spencer’s cock. spencer moaned “ah! ah! ah!” in succession, each moan growing louder until he came, the warmth spreading inside of your walls, “fuck!” spencer all but screamed.

you both sat, spencer’s cock still inside of you, your head resting on his shoulder. “so we should definitely start a garden,” you smiled at him. spencer’s smile genuine at your words, his expression soft as he recovered from the two orgasms he had. “let me go get you some water,” you spoke softly as you lifted yourself off of his spencer’s cock, wincing at the slight burn.

you walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet, pouring water from the tap into the cup, as his cum began to slowly leak down your legs. “here you go,” you spoke softly as you sat down next to spencer who was still trying to steady his breathing. you rubbed his chest softly, comforting him as he drank his water. “let’s get you in the bath yeah?” spencer nodded as you grabbed his hand leading him to the bathroom. 

you turned on the bath water, grabbing a lavender bath bomb from under your sink cabinet. you sat the bath bomb on the side of the tub, walking over the toilet to go through your after-sex routine.

there you sat in the bath, spencer in between your legs as you traced your fingernails across his shoulder blades. “so what do you wanna grow first? i was thinking bell peppers,” spencer turned around, smiling up at you as he nodded enthusiastically. 

fin 

i hope you guys enjoyed! this is my first spencer reid x reader fic, so i hope it’s okay! i just planted a few shrubs and vegetables myself so i felt this was fitting. i appreciate all the love on my previous fics, thank you guys so much! drink some water, remind yourself that you are enough and you are worthy.  

thank you for reading, have a good day! 

[russadler]

All That Remains: Chapter Two

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A look back to happier times and a defining conversation

A/N: Hey lol once again sorry I took so long. This chapter is relatively shortish (?) because it was originally part of the next chapter, but I decided to split it since it was getting long lmao. The next chapter will actually be coming soon I promise I was like almost finished but decided to publish this section since it was done and yall need to get fed.

Also another note I guess? I refer to Russell as “Adler” even though its third person Sophie centric. I believe since they came to know each other through work, Sophie only initially heard/knew of him by his last name and will still refer to him in her mind as such. I didn’t do this much in the first chapter but I thought about it and also it felt weird calling him Russell all the time LMFAOO

August 2nd, 1980

“…I’m surprised you never had kids.” 

It’s more of a question than a statement, and an admittedly nosey one. They’re currently in the midst of a very picturesque picnic in a field of their choosing, the pair of them eating lunch while sprawled across a spare blanket pulled from the back of Russell’s car. The man in question is currently laid on his side, chewing a strawberry and peering up at her with a curiously cocked eyebrow making an appearance over the rim of his aviators. 

Sophie wriggles under the scrutiny, a blush rising to her cheeks as she redirects her eyes towards her leather boots with a timid huff. They had been together for more than enough time by now, enough time for the lustre of having Russell Adler as her boyfriend to have worn off. Yet, even all these months later, a mere glance from the man was enough to leave her flushed and stumbling over her words. 

“I’m sorry —“ She rushes to apologize, sandwich suddenly forgotten as she picks sheepishly at a loose thread on her dress. She had meant to word things a little…differently, but who was she kidding? it wasn’t her place to ask such things in the first place.

With Russell, the more you pressed him, the further away he pulled. His trust came with patience and time, a small price Sophie didn’t mind paying. There were things he held close to himself, his marriage being one of them. It was obviously a sensitive topic, or at least one he didn’t enjoy talking about. She hadn’t intended to interrogate him about the fact he didn’t have any children despite being married for a little over a decade, it was his business. Only recently had he begun sharing that part of his life with her, and it was a sign of his trust that she deeply valued.  

And here she went, utterly obliterating that carefully constructed confidence because she seemed to lack a brain-to-mouth filter.

“You’re fine, kid.”  Russell soothes, interrupting her scattered thoughts. The woman manages to to will herself to look at him again, where his enlivened grin signaling he was more amused than offended by the statement. 

He sits up, and one of his hands moves to rub at her thigh in reassurance. “I admire that you’re always pretty straight to the point.” He notes lightheartedly, subtly pacifying her current flustered state.

The woman huffs, self conscious despite the comforting words. "It gets me in trouble way too much.” She confesses, biting into her sandwich a bit too harshly. It was true. She had a terrible habit of being too honest for as long as she could remember, and it had made for some terribly awkward experiences throughout her life.

“I’d argue telling the truth is a pretty good thing to get in trouble for.” Adler remarks in return, his hand remaining on her thigh as he continues with his lunch. She could tell he was making a point of appearing relatively unconcerned about the whole thing, likely in a bid to provide her some sense of consolation. The man was leaving little room for her to feel upset at herself. 

Sophie releases a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and relaxes, shoulders loosening as she finishes the last of her sandwich. 

There’s another beat of silence, and then it occurs to her that Russell had managed yet again to wriggle his way out of talking about himself. It was a common pattern, nearly every time she attempted to make conversation that centered around him, he would artfully steer the conversation away from himself and find a way to redirect the topic towards her. 

He was annoyingly good at it, too, and she was just starting to catch on that he was doing it in the first place. 

“Wait! You didn’t answer the question!” The brunette gasps, exasperated. “You always do this!” 

“Do what?” Russell retorts, behaving as if he were completely ignorant of what was the matter. He always acted as if he didn’t know.

“You always find a way to not answer me! Every time you change the subject and then hope I forget!” The woman laughs, failing miserably in her attempt to come across as annoyed. His behavior was maddening, but Sophie often found she was less irritated and more awestruck that the man was so artful at playing people. 

“I’d never do that, you’re just making things up.” Russell quips, mouth twisted with a lopsided smile as he continues the playful banter. “I love talking about myself, actually. Could do it all day.” 

Adler just keeps smirking, stuffing a strawberry into his mouth as he does. The younger rolls her eyes, because as much as she loved him, the man could seriously be a pain. “You don’t actually have to answer the question if you don’t want to. ” She adds, humor now absent from her voice as she quietly rearranges the bundle of wildflowers she had picked.

“I said it was fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” Russell tells her again, his voice calm and even as he continues to rub circles into her skin. There’s a brief pause, and suddenly the hand on her thigh stops moving. “Wait, do you want kids? Is this your way of asking?” He asks, his head suddenly shifting to level her with a steely gaze. Despite the presence of the aviators on his face, she can feel the intensity of his stare. The man’s demeanor had grown suddenly serious, alert even.

“No! I mean…kids are nice and all and I don’t mind them…but I’m not really dead set on having them.” She explains, her own hand darting to grasp Russell’s larger one. From one moment to the next, it had suddenly become her turn to offer reassurance. “In all honesty, I feel I’d quite rather do without them, really.” She returns the man’s heavy gaze with one of her own, both in search of his reaction and in the hopes of communicating her honesty. "I was just…curious.” She admits shyly.

It was the truth, she wasn’t one of those girls whose ultimate life goal was of being a housewife with the white picket fence, apple pies, and endless kids. There was nothing wrong with that ideal per say, but it wasn’t something she saw herself wanting. 

The woman wasn’t really looking to make children a part of her life. If it happened, it happened, but she could go without them and feel just fine about it. 

Russell, on his part, seemed relieved. Accepting her answer with a nod, his gaze moves towards the sky above as he gives her hand a short squeeze.

Then to her complete surprise, he decides to answer the question anyways. Sophie turns to look at the taller as he begins to speak, shifting to lay on her left side and face him as he leaned back on his hands. 

“Well...there’s a lot of reasons, really. First, my job.” Adler then pauses to spare her a brief glance, as if to ensure she understood what he was attempting to convey. It was no secret that Russell was often away, leaving her for weeks and sometimes months on end. She was never allowed to have any hint of what he was doing or even where he was going, all that she could know was that his work was very important and very dangerous. 

Sometimes she found herself sitting at home and just hoping he was still alive. Confirmation that he was okay only came when he either called her to say he was coming home (which was rare) or until he appeared out of the blue. It wasn’t a feeling she liked having, and a sentiment Russell hated subjecting her to.  

It was just the way it was, the way it had to be. Their relationship would always come second to work, Adler had made that very clear from the start. She was either in or out, and he made sure that she knew the price that she would be paying in being with him.

Russell sighs, the exhale sounding deep and tired before he continues. “It would be unfair to do that to a kid, they wouldn’t understand why their dad was away all the time...And it would have been unfair to my ex, she would have had to essentially raise them all on her own.” 

Sophie nods silently in understanding, the living scenario was on she had come to understand personally. The periods of absence would be difficult on both mother and child for various reasons, and it was good that the couple had weighed the risks.

“Some of the guys at work are okay with that, and have wives that were okay with that, but for us..?” He continues, voice even as he grasps one of the flowers she had stuffed into the picnic basket and begins rolling the stem between his thumb and pointer finger. “We didn’t want kids that bad. We were okay, just it being the two of us.”

“You both ended up going your separate ways, too. I could imagine if you had kids that would have been a nightmare.” She adds, a relatively astute observation but one that she felt was worth mentioning. They had made the right choice after all, it had seemed. 

“God, I’m thankful we didn’t for that reason especially.” Russell replies with audible relief, thankful that children hadn’t been something to consider in their subsequent divorce. 

There’s a moment of silence, and she thinks he’s finished speaking, especially seeing that he officially answered her question. 

But then he sits up properly, clearing his throat before speaking once more. “And all these years later my feelings about it are the same and I don’t regret it.” He tells her, sounding confident and assured as he rips most of the stem away from the main portion of the flower with a powerful yank. “Even if I wanted them now, I’m a bit too old to be a dad. So that ship has long sailed.” 

Sophie nods. Russell was a man of very few regrets, and his sense of judgement was one she had come to trust wholeheartedly. He turns to her, an arm reaching out to tuck a few locks of her hair out of the way before placing the remainder of the flower behind her ear. 

The woman smiles so hard her cheeks ache. Russell Adler was a romantic, despite the fact he vehemently denies it. It was true and no one was going to believe her ever. “I don’t think you really missed out, everyone I know who has kids just complains about them.” She states, still smiling.

The taller’s chest rumbles with a chuckle. Having carefully maneuvering the food out of the way, he then wraps an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her down to lay at his side as she lets out a surprised squeak. “Have we been talking to the same people?” He asks. 

“If one of them is named Jason Hudson, then yes.”

Russell laughs then, and it’s music to her ears.

[05aaphrodite]

I can't let you escape, not even to your own world

Pairings:Yandere! Venti x reader

Warnings:4th wall breaking,Slight crack fic,Reader death

(Plz don't let my friends see this lmao)

______________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_______________

I chug all of my soda then slam it on the table "Aight, let's go farm for Venti's talent mats" I grabbed my controller then push the left joystick forward, after all of these grinding... I finally manage to get him on his rerun, I was skeptical that he would come home but surprisingly, I did a single pull then I got him, I'm grateful that I got my dream team, Xiao,Diluc,Venti,Bennett I will be saving for a Klee rerun.

My phone beeped a notification, I peek at it and it's my friend gc, I put down my controller then grab my phone

(A/n: Btw, the gc is based of my friend gc lol)

❀Genshin Gang❀

Diluc's hairtie

Y'ALL GUESS WHAT??

Albedo simp

OMGGGGGG CONGRATS BHIEEE

E_supremacy

CONGRATSSSSS

Xiao come home plz

I TOLD YA, YOU WILL GET HIM

Ventea

Hope all😭😭

VENTI CAME HOME

BROOOO CONGRATS OMG

ZHONGLI COME HOME

JK JK CONGRATS TOO

Diluc's hairtie

I was losing hope until I wished one more time😭

ZHONGLI COME HOME

CONGRATSSSS AGAIN, AND TO Y/N, BOTH OF YOU GOT VENTI

VENTI CAME HOME

THANKS PALL

E_supremacy 

Now my Zhongli is happy :D

Diluc's hairtie

YESSES

A smile plastered on my face, I'm so happy for them! My attention was stolen when Venti decides to say his idle line "Come on Traveler, let's go! The world is full of lost ballads just waiting to be rediscovered." I put my phone down then grab my controller again "Ok ok, I will pay attention to you now" I chuckled humorously "Good! Just don't make me murder your friends."

The moment he said that line, my thumb suddenly stopped pushing the joystick, did he just..... did I just heard that right? Murder... your friends? What does he mean by that? Someone never mentioned this voiceline of his, I should check the character icon. I clicked on the character icon then proceed to his voicelines, I checked every details but I can't seem to find it, maybe it's a bug? The fact that I was talking to my friends.... maybe Mihoyo intended it?

I shrugged my shoulders then continue to the domain to farm for talent materials. After countless of grinding, I started to have fun with his wind current while harassing random hilichurls for fun, I made him sat at the Barbatos statue "You finally came home..." I smiled as I touch the screen, Venti looked at the camera then smiled "That's so cute! He smiles when he looks at at camera!" I awed, I continue to fawn over him.

⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣

I woke up by the sound of my ps4 opening, the bright light illuminated my body, and to my surprise, my ps4 opened by itself "What the fuck?" I stood up from the bed then went to investigate it. The creepiest thing is that Venti is the only one in my party, and he is sitting at barbatos' hands, and then I remembered the hacked accounts in genshin, this could be a sign..

I hurriedly grab my controller then check my characters, all of them were Venti! I can't find a single character other than him! What's going on!? I check my weapons but they are okay, I checked my profile and nothing changed but my icon was set to Venti, i checked my primogems and fate but nothing changed, in fear of getting hacked, I contacted Mihoyo for customer support, I can't lose Xiao, I whaled for him! I restarted my ps4 then go back to sleep, in hopes that it will be resolved next morning.

I rubbed my eyes then stretch my arms wide, I look at my ps4 then my phone, I grab my phone then text on the gc

❀Genshin Gang❀

VENTI CAME HOME

Guyssss, something weird happened yesterday 

ZHONGLI COME HOME

Why?

VENTI CAME HOME

My ps4 opened by itself and Venti was the only one in my party, I tried to change my party set back to normal but all of them were Venti

Albedo simp

Welp, sounds like a bug

But hey, freemogems :D

VENTI CAME HOME

My weapons and primogems were untouched but the weird thing is that my character icon is set to Venti, but I didn't change it

This is like a Ddlc reference lmaooo

Xiao come home plz

Aight, time to report to Mihoyo for free 600 primogems 

E_supremacy

Be careful, maybe you're getting hacked? You should change your password incase

VENTI CAME HOME

Yep bro, I will change it

I put my phone down then open my ps4, I prayed to myself that everything is back to normal. Happiness washed over me when I saw that my original party is deployed "must've been a crazy bug.." I chuckled, I change my icon back to Xiao then continue with the grinding "Ooohhh timmie's birds" I smirked, I switched to Xiao then climb the nearest cliff, I glide then plunge on the birds "Free fowls!!" I exclaimed then claim the fowls, my character suddenly switched  back to Venti, I didn't even press anything other than claim fowls "You know I'm getting impatient.." Venti said, again this was not even in his voice lines, then I notice that something is odd with my venti, he kept saying weird lines everytime my attention is drifted to somewhere else, could it be Mihoyo's doings? I hope so, I don't want a ddlc fiasco again.

After farming for his ascension materials, I quit genshin then read some fanfictions in Tumblr, I came across a Kaeya fanfic then proceed to read the contents. All of a sudden, my ps4's screen started to distort, my eyes widened at the sight of it, then a bright light surrounded me, making my head dizzy

.

.

.

. 

"Traveler, you're awake" I woke up to a familiar voice reaching my ears, I blinked my eyes slowly to realize that I'm not in my room, where am I? My jaw dropped when the person I saw in my eyes is none other Venti, this is impossible! He's not real! "Venti...?" I tilt my head in confusion, there's no way this is real.... this must be a dream! The bard showed a genuine smile before putting down his lyre "I'm happy that you pulled for me, I will go crazy if you pulled for him instead, hehe." Venti had a patronizing smile after that, my eyes widened as I sat up "Venti? There's no way that you're real!" I said, feeling my empty pockets, Venti sighed as he stood up, he had his lyre in his hand "Come on Traveler, let's go celebrate the windblume festival." the God reached out his hand, I was reluctant to respond to his offer, he seems a bit suspicious to me, considering my ps4 sucked me in Teyvat. Not to mention, he said these weird lines when I was communicating with my friends, and my controller would move on its own when I'm playing another character "What are you waiting for?" A smile was om his lips, I took his hand then stood up "Ok, let's go." Venti giggled as he led me in Mondstadt, I gaze behind to see the Vennessa tree.

No way.... all of this seemed real... the designs.... the npcs.... all of them are accurate! The only difference is that I don't see control menu "Isn't it beautiful? Traveler?" Venti turned to me, I nodded with hesitant. As my eyes scanned the whole city, Fischl and Bennett were talking to each other, Kaeya,Rosaria, and Diluc at the same table, although Diluc seems poker faced, Barbara was performing for the crowd, Jean and Lisa are eating together, Albedo,Sucrose, and Timaeus are experimenting,Amber is seen gliding, everything seemed lively more than the actual game.... "Come on Traveler!" The bard took my hand without giving me time to consent.

The rustling sounds of the leaves snap me back to reality, it still feels like a dream, did Mihoyo said something about this? The atmosphere is so lively and different "Uh oh woahhh!! Watch out!" Amber then crashed into Noelle, I giggled slightly then turn to the bard who was playing the lyre for a small crowd, as the sweet melodious tone halt to stop, the crowd clapped their hands, I smiled a little bit as I made my way towards him "Did you like it?" Venti inquired, I nodded then smiled, the bard chuckled as he took my hand then led me somewhere.

I realized we were getting far away from the festival, perturbation washed over me "Venti.... where are we going?" sweat dropped on my temples, Venti looked at me with a menacing smile "Somewhere..." 

He led me to starsnatch cliff, the breeze of the wind soothes my nostrils, I can't believe all of these are real.... Venti picked a Cecilia flower then hand it to me, I narrowed my eyes "Are you really.... real?" I gaze at his eyes 

"I'm aware that all of us are just video game characters, that's why I'm a God"

My eyes widened as he said that, he tucked the cecilia behind my ear "Y/n, will you stay here forever..?" The bard took both of my hands, his puppy eyes gleaming, I do want to visit Genshin.... but that does not mean I will abandon my world 

"Venti.... I have my friends and family there..." I said, I averted my gaze to the floor, his grip on me got tighter "Y/n, your world does not need you" his tone was a mix of devastate and anger "All you need is me, you belong here" 

My eyebrows furrowed, what does he mean by that!? "No! I can't just leave everyone! My friends care about me!"  I screamed in frustration. He then uses his anemo powers on me that sent me flying through the air "Arghh! Let me go!!" I desperately try to break free

"Don't you see that I love you? I don't like it when you control me everyday" Venti was feigning sadness on his tone 

"Because you're never real!" I retorted back, a grin was marked on his face "I ever regret pulling for you!" I yelled. The bard went closer then cup my cheeks "So? You already got me, you did this to yourself" then his hands swayed, causing me to fall of the cliff, my life flashed before me, this is it....

"May your soul rest in this game"