#oh goodness she would be such a horrible man

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 

It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 

She was alone just as much as he was. 

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 

***

It was quiet in the little cottage. 

Peaceful. 

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 

And then there was her. 

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 

She didn’t fault her for that. 

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 

Which was fine. 

It was. 

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 

Oh well. 

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 

She could just stare at him. 

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

i hope you're having a lovely day, blusy!!

can you write about donna and reader having drunk sex and donna was so wild that night that angie, who was sleeping in the room next door, was traumatized. she complained about it the next day but the two can't remember anything because of how drunk they were. and basically reader and donna tried to make up to her by showering her with gifts and doing anything she requests them to do.

angie thought that was the end of it but they did it again the next day 😭 can you make the making-up-to-angie part fluffy? i love your works!!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your kindness and for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))

Angie's revenge

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of explicit smut, Minors DNI, alcohol, fluff

Word count: 7,332

Summary: Maybe to drink that liquor wasn't a good idea...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific…” the Duke murmured with that arrogant, third-rate merchant voice.

“If I had a clear idea I wouldn't be asking you, would I?” you said, always watching the door to avoid prying eyes behind it.

“You said you wanted something special and that is a very… abstract concept,” the merchant said with a smug smile.

“Mm, I'm sure what you want is information,” you whispered with a confident look, crossing your arms.

“Information? No, Miss, how can you think something like that?” the Duke said, shaking his head but not removing that horrible smile from his horrible face.

You sighed, rolling your eyes without stopping looking around.

“Okay,” you said, defeated, lowering the tone of your voice. “Tonight marks one year since I've been living with Donna and I wanted to celebrate it with a special dinner,” you explained with an angry hiss.

 Of course, giving information about your private life to that man was the last thing you wanted to do at that moment.

“Oh, a romantic dinner?” the Duke asked, arching his eyebrows unpleasantly.

“No, it's a dinner to look into our eyes and tell us how much we hate each other,” you said ironically, shaking your head. “Of course it's a romantic dinner.”

The Duke laughed scandalously, satisfied with your embarrassment.

“I've always valued people who master the subtle art of sarcasm,” he commented, with a curious look. “It's not very common around here.”

“Yeah, okay, great,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Well, if you value it that much, please help me.”

“I still don't know what you're looking for,” he repeated, with a dark look of satisfaction.

“You know what? I was planning on spending a lot of lei, but I think some nice words will do the trick,” you said in a cocky tone, taking the rest of the order and walking towards the entrance.

“Words are carried away by the wind, Miss (Y/N),” the Duke intervened, visibly nervous, as always when money was mentioned.

“Yes, yes, you can’t be. You can rest assured,” you joked in a disinterested way.

“You're so funny,” the merchant said, laughing. “It’s a pity because I just remembered that I had something special around here.”

“You'd sell your mother for a handful of coins,” you grumbled, leaving the boxes back on the floor.

“Mother? Well, I can't say if your statement is correct since I don't remember if I ever had a mother,” the Duke said, rummaging through his carriage. “Let's see...”

“Something special,” you said with an impatient voice, looking at the old clock in the hall. It wasn't long before Donna came up from the workshop, you'd have to be quick.

“Something special,” the fat man repeated, grabbing a bottle. “I think this is what you’re looking for,” he said finally, extending that bottle with a yellow liquid.

You frowned and took the object, moving it to agitate the liquid inside.

“What is this?” you asked curiously, removing the cork from the bottle and bringing it to your nose. “Lemonade?”

“Not exactly, Miss,” the Duke said, raising and lowering his eyebrows. “Smell it.”

“Ugh,” you said wrinkling your nose when the alcohol traveled through your airways. “Liquor”

“Not just any liquor, dear,” the merchant murmured, moving in the carriage. “Limoncello.”

“Lemon what?” you asked, covering up that pleasant smell again.

“It's a traditional Italian lemon-based liquor, it was Mister Beneviento's favorite,” he commented, watching satisfied as you nodded slowly. “I think it's perfect to make that dinner… A little more special.”

“Yes, maybe,” you said with a murmur. Well, at least it was something. “See how it wasn't that difficult?” you joked, throwing that greedy being another bag of coins.

“If it was difficult for me to do business, I would have dedicated myself to something different, don't you think?” the Duke laughed, amused, counting the coins.

“I don't intend to thank you,” you said with a cocky voice. “Seriously, why do you want so much money?”

“I like money,” the man answered, amused.

“Yeah, okay, great, great...” you murmured, shaking your head and turning slowly. “Well, you can go now.”

“One last thing, Miss...” he commented as he turned the carriage, bringing his eyes to the bottle of liquor. “Be very careful with that, don't drink too much...”

“Yes, yes, yes…” you sighed, nodding reluctantly and entering the mansion, ignoring the merchant's sinister laughter. “Damn, I'm starting to think that Donna only wants me to negotiate with this vermin.”

“Don't say that, tesoro,” a hoarse voice interrupted your stammering and protests. The lady in black was waiting standing in front of you. As always when she appeared, your lips could only smile.

“Oh, Donna, don't look, don't look,” you said, hiding the bottle and walking towards her, comically covering her eye as you walked. “That's it… Straight ahead, watch out for the door,” you said amused, guiding the blind lady towards the hallway.

“What are you up to, (Y/N)?” she asked amused.

You put on your best innocent face and shrugged.

“Nothing, nothing…” you said amused, putting the bottle in one of the boxes and picking them up from the floor. “I'll go to put the groceries in the kitchen… Wait for me here.”

The lady in black laughed shyly as she watched you with that face you fell in love with, that beautiful and wounded face that for you, was the most beautiful.

They always told you that time passed quickly, without mercy, without letting you enjoy every moment. You never believed it.

You thought that time was just a transit, something that had no remedy, that became slow and lazy to make you feel even more sadness and apathy. They were right. A year used to be long. It used to take its time to pass before your eyes but… That year, that precise year, passed like a shooting star.

You were never anyone special, daughter of farmers, devotee of the Black Gods and Mother Miranda (you didn’t have another option either). Your life passed slowly, showing you the darkest side of it, the desperation of not being understood, the construction of your friends' lives, something you couldn’t do.

You had different interests. Marrying a lout and starting a family was certainly not among your priorities. You just wanted to find someone with whom you could share your disagreement with the established order, someone who, like you, didn’t see life as a gift from the Black Gods, but as a slow and tedious sentence.

But one day, the day when your clumsiness made you stumble upon the worst possible person, that day, you wished time would stop.

You were not alien to the Lords, or to Mother Miranda. They were shadows that lived with the villagers as a potential and imminent danger, even though the witch assured that they were only there to take care of you. You never believed that nonsense, you knew that the danger resided in each of the four Lords.

That woman you stumbled upon was one of them, the youngest, the most mysterious Lord, the ventriloquist, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

No one knew much about that woman, many even refused to look at her as a human being, it was rumored that beneath that dress, that black veil, there was a monster, a monster on the outside and on the inside. Suffering from mental illness since birth, Lady Beneviento became an even darker shadow, one that could hide the brightest sun.

With everything in your mind, your legs began to shake and you started to think that just getting in her way would mean an eternity of suffering. It wasn't like that.

Your innocent smile and the wit you were blessed with caught her attention enough to not want to kill you. She wasn't the only one who saw something in you, you did too.

A soul mate, destiny… You couldn't really say why during a conversation your lips met, why that veil disappeared to reveal the true meaning of beauty, of love.

It had been a year since that kiss turned life into something wonderful for you. You stopped being the simple (Y/N) to live with her in that incredible, secluded mansion.

Living with Donna (and Angie) was a challenge that you overcame little by little. Her shadows, her torments played with your feelings but you never cared, you would always take care of her, and she of you.

There was no monster under the black cloth, but a beautiful and tender woman, dangerous but loving, an incredible woman who little by little became the woman of your life.

That night was definitely special, it was the celebration of that year with her, of the time you had spent loving her more and more each day.

“More wine, tesoro?” the lady in black asked, romantically illuminated by the candlelight. You nodded pleased, extending your glass towards the lady.

“Everything was delicious, Donna,” you sighed grateful for that special dinner. She looked at you and smiled sheepishly, shaking her head.

“There's no need to be accommodating, (Y/N), you tell me that every night,” she whispered, sighing almost as if it were your first date.

“Oh, well…” you joked, arching your eyebrows. “I guess it's already a habit.”

“I, I can't believe you've been with me for a year,” the lady commented, with a slightly sadder look, with the shadows of her demons surrounding her like merciless crows. “I just find it hard to believe.”

“Why? I love you, you make me happy… Why wouldn't I want to be with you for 50 or better, 70 more years? 100?” you said amused, pretending a thoughtful look.

Donna's soft laugh reached your ears, increasing the intensity of your smile, the brightness of your eyes.

“I don't understand,” she said, sighing again, bringing her glass of wine to her lips. “You're a beautiful girl. You shouldn't waste your time with me.”

“Are you kidding?” you asked, dispelling her insecurities in a subtle way. “You're a Lord, you're beautiful... You say beautiful Italian things to me...”

She shook her head, without making her tender smile disappear.

“I don't think these are enough reasons,” the lady in black murmured.

You, fearing a possible tense moment, reached out your hand to hers, caressing it gently.

“Hey, honey... I love you, do you hear me? I love you just the way you are...” you whispered romantically, seeing how the lady had trouble controlling the sadness, the desperation for how unfair life was to her.

“(Y/N), me… Me too,” Donna said, blinking erratically, slowly regaining her composure and relaxing her breathing, which was already beginning to become dangerously labored.

“Me too!” an annoying squeak made you pull your hand back, startling you.

Of course, of course, Angie couldn't leave you two alone at a special romantic dinner. Seriously, she couldn't.

“Angie…” you groaned, annoyed by that interruption.

“Ohhhh, is that a cheesecake?” the doll asked, comically peeking over the table.

“Angie, leave us alone, will you?” the lady said, annoyed by the lack of soft caresses on her hand.

“You're always alone!” the puppet protested, with an unpleasant squeak. “Donna, Donna, do you even remember that I exist too?”

“Yes, Angie,” the doll maker said, shaking her head. “But now is not the time.”

“So when is it? You’re neglecting me! Bad Donna, Silly Donna!” Angie shrieked again.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your piece of dessert, trying hard to ignore the doll.

Luckily, Angie seemed to get tired of you two and disappeared with a comical grumble, which made you genuinely laugh.

“She’s mad…” you joked.

“She’ll get over it,” she said.

“Oh, that's right,” you said, clapping your hands and searching for something under the table, something you had hidden. “Look what I have.”

“Mm?” the lady murmured, reaching out her hand to take the bottle and look at it carefully. “What is it?”

“I think you know…” you said in an expectant tone, raising and lowering your eyebrows. “Open the cap.”

Donna obeyed and smiled in a tender way, as if that citrus aroma reminded her of better times, times gone by.

“Limoncello…” she said in a low voice. “My father used to drink it after eating… It brings back memories to me…”

“Good memories? Please, tell me I haven't made a mistake…” you sighed, hoping that the nostalgia wasn't dangerous, that it was a healthy one.

The doll maker seemed calm, test passed.

“You had a great idea, tesoro… Let me go to get some iced glasses,” she said, standing up and leaning towards you to kiss your lips softly, with that softness that made you tremble.

“Okay,” you said smiling, enjoying a soft caress on your cheek.

The liquor went down your throat in a cool, pleasant way. You had to admit that the Duke had a great idea, Donna seemed happy.

Glass after glass, the conversation moved to your reading corner. A conversation full of words of love, of shy laughs, one that pleasantly reminded you of your first dates.

“Hey, give me another one,” you said amused, extending the small glass towards the brunette, who frowned with a smile and slightly blushed cheeks.

“It's the fourth one, amore mio…” she stammered, pouring you another drink, slurring her words.

“How many have you had?” you asked playfully, giving her a little teasing nudge as she frowned and counted on her fingers.

“Quattro…” she muttered in confusion, shaking her head. “I, I guess it’s not too much.”

“No,” you said laughing, hiccupping unintentionally. “But maybe we should calm down a bit… How strong is this?”

The lady shrugged in a playful pose as you leaned back on the couch, blinking seductively.

“Donna…” you purred, running a finger along her skin erratically, tickling her. “You know what? You look hot today…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed with a shy smile, sipping from her glass.

“What? Can't I say that my girlfriend is hot?” you protested jokingly, pretending to pout.

It was becoming easier for you to joke or say exactly what you thought, was it because of the liquor?

“Girlfriend?” Donna asked, turning quickly, her face revealing her incipient drunkenness. “Are you my… Girlfriend?”

“Yes…” you said, dragging your voice. “What else would I be? Your maid?”

Donna laughed strangely, shaking her head with a mischievous look.

“I want to tell you a secret…” she whispered, gesturing for you to come closer to her. The smell of alcohol was becoming more and more present in the living room, in that small corner.

 “Oh, a secret…” you said amused, hiccupping. “What secret?”

Donna bit her lip before speaking, covering your ear with her hot breath, one that paradoxically made you shiver.

“I wish you were my maid,” she whispered with a too marked accent, as if searching for words or controlling her language was being a bit difficult for her.

“Mmm,” you moaned sensually, looking into the lady's bright eye and positioning yourself on the couch on your knees, playfully. “Maid, huh?”

“Yes,” the lady said, nodding and playing with your hand, which wandered erratically over her body, playing with the buttons of her dress. “Maids have always turned me on…”

“Hey, Donna!” you said with an exaggerated squeal, surprised by that confession. “Wait, really?”

She faked an innocent face, a good girl look that clashed with that erotic statement.

“Well, well, so the liquor makes you say those things…” you purred again, with an overwhelming heat that made your clothes start to annoy you. “Well, let's drink…”

You awkwardly reached out to reach the bottle and poured two more glasses, which you drank at the same time, in one gulp, letting your throat get even more accustomed to that liquor.

“Come on, come on, keep telling me your fantasies with maids…” you said pushing the lady and climbing on top of her body, with both legs on either side of her hips. “If I were your maid… What would you do to me?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to, hic, be rude,” she said, shaking her head and hiccupping in the same way as you.

You glanced at the bottle, which barely had any of its contents left. Had you gone too far?

“Rude? Come on, tell me, tell me,” you insisted, moving up and down her body. “Look…” you said, keeping your back straight clumsily, raising your index finger and trying to focus your vision. “If you tell me, I’ll, hic, tell you a secret.”

Donna shook her head childishly, with a slightly sinister smile, blinking as if she had the same vision problems as you.

“No… It’s… Pri…Private…” she said, stammering, nervous about your subtle movements on her body, purposely provoking her.

“Donna, don’t be mean…” you complained with an exaggerated moan. “What would you do to me? Wait, wait, I’ll help you…”

Moving, you reached for the bottle again, drinking directly from it and tilting it so she could do the same.

“Finish it all, huh?” you said a bit dizzy, but with the same desire to play.

“Io non sono una bambina…” the lady protested, moving her hands to remove the bottle from her mouth. “Lasciami…”

“Oh… Excuse me, Lady Beneviento… Can I do anything else for you, my lady?” you joked, pretending an elegant voice, inevitably altered by alcohol.

“Taci,” Donna protested with a shy smile, with her cheeks red from drunkenness and that spicy conversation.

“Mmmm, so, maid… I like it,” you murmured thoughtfully, leaning towards her ear. “Would you like me to serve you, Donna? To please you?”

She nodded, panting from the alcoholic sensuality your blurry words conveyed.

“That seems very sexy to me…” you purred, biting her earlobe. “Tell me, if I were your maid, what would you do to me?”

“Mm,” she murmured, with the shadow of disinhibition shining in her only eye, which ran over your figure without any kind of qualms. “I would ask you to clean my dolls…”

“Oh,” you said amused, unintentionally beginning to gently swing your hips, to give yourself pleasure by rubbing them against her body.

“I would love to lift your dress and touch you and then… Put you on your knees and then you, hic, you…”

“I….?” you insisted.

She shook her head with an amused gasp and you protested with a grunt, moving your hips faster.

“Donna…” you said with a sad, demanding tone.

“Use your, hic, imagination” Donna said, laughing amused, putting her hands on your hips so your movements wouldn’t stop. “(Y/N)…”

“Do you like this, darling?” you asked, dragging out your words, biting your lip. “Oh, yes, you like it…”

“You're drunk,” the lady said with a serious tone, but without stopping moving, dancing with your body. “You’ve drunk too much.”

“I guess you haven't, huh?” you joked, putting a finger on her nose, intensifying the drunken look that you endured with a spark of desire.

“I'm a fancy lady,” she protested. “You're not.”

“That hurt,” you said, pretending to stab yourself in the chest. “Let's see, hic, if you're right, I'm going to c… C…Confess my secret to you,” you said, having difficulty pronouncing words clearly.

“With me you don't have... Se...Secrets...” she stammered, frowning and shaking her head, trying to clear the alcoholic haze that was surely clouding her reasoning.

“You think so, huh?” you said amused, leaning back to her ear, licking your lips. “Listen to me... My secret is... I love the taste of your pussy...”

“(Y/N)!” the lady shrieked, with a surprised expression, shaking her head. “Don’t, don't say such rude things... Cazzo...”

“Oh, rude things, huh? Well, you should know that I can’t only say them, I can also do them...”

That was the last sentence you said. Instantly, you threw yourself at her lips, letting your bodies sway more intensely, stealing heat from each other. The kisses tasted of citrus, of the liquor you had consumed. They were clumsy, erratic, almost guided by a primary instinct and not by desire.

“(Y/N)…” the lady protested when your boldness unbuttoned her dress, when your alcoholic kisses began to run over her skin and your hands traveled up her legs.

“Shhh, silence, my lady… I want to fulfill your wish,” you said, going down, lifting the black skirt, making the doll maker uncomfortable.

She protested with a moan.

Her complaints didn’t stop you. You continued with the path that your kisses marked on her skin, moving aside any fabric that dared to get in your way.

“Cazzo!” she shrieked when your tongue made contact with her wet folds, with the desire you could taste between her legs. “More, more!”

Her screams had nothing to do with the romantic Donna she used to be when turning off the light and joining your bodies. Her moans were wild and rude words came out discreetly from her mouth.

You laughed, trying to concentrate on your task, licking her clit, unleashing those wild  moans again before inserting two of your fingers by surprise. Her movements were uncontrollable and her hand pulled at your hair while Donna writhed in pleasure at the skill of your techniques.

The moans echoed through the walls but you barely heard them. Everything was like a blurry vision of what was happening. You moaned feeling her fingers inside of you too, feeling how her body asked for more while stimulating yours.

Kisses, hugs, moans… Nothing that happened seemed to have meaning, seemed to be related. It was like a drunken mess of love and passion, a wild, almost uncontrollable one. The moans were outrageous.

Her body moved crazily on top of yours while your wetness rubbed against each other, while you caressed each other fiercely.

“Sto per venire!” the lady shrieked, tilting her head up as you attacked again with your tongue, running over her excited wetness, that delicious taste mixed with the liquor. “(Y/N), (Y/N)! Keep going, keep going!” she screamed, echoing off the walls of the mansion, accompanied shortly after by several deep, crazy moans, the most outrageous orgasm you had ever heard.

Your release also came or so you thought, as you rubbed yourself against her leg, while your wetness made her skin shine. After that, your mind relaxed, causing the dizziness you felt to become unbearable.

The lady was lying on the couch, running an erratic hand through her hair, across her sweaty forehead, gesturing for you to lie down next to her.

“I want to… Dormire…” Donna murmured, drawing her legs up and turning around tiredly. The alcohol had already completely finished her off, just like it did to you.

“What do you want…? I don’t unders….Underst…Understand, hic,” you asked walking clumsily naked through that corner, grabbing a blanket from an armchair and letting yourself fall on the sofa, covering your bodies with it.

Your eyes closed and the dizziness calmed down, giving way to an inevitable darkness.

The sound of birds attacked your hearing, your head. Your whole body was in pain, your head was throbbing and your throat was burning. It took a while for your vision to focus properly, to see the morning light coming through a living room window.

You looked down and gasped in surprise. You were naked, on the sofa, covered by a blanket. Next to you, breathing deeply, was Donna, also naked, with her body shrunken surely due to the cold that was beginning to make your skin crawl.

“Shit…” you whispered, running a hand through your head, rubbing your eyes. “What the…?”

When you turned your head, sighing, you saw on the coffee table the culprit of that terrible discomfort: the almost empty bottle of limoncello. Your mouth still tasted of that liquor, but your memory was hurt. You didn't remember anything of what had happened.

You shook your head and turned around concentrating to find out what had led you to be like this. The clothes on the floor, the nakedness... Well, at least there were things that were quite clear...

“Donna... Hey, Donna...” you said with a hoarse voice, pushing the body of the lady, who growled annoyed.

You sighed again and shrugged, covering yourself better with the blanket. Surely you should sleep a little more.

Small steps on the wood made you open your eyes again. A soft whistle came from Angie, who walked with small jumps through the house. You followed her with your eyes until she climbed onto the dining chair, glancing at you briefly.

“What…?” you asked weakly, watching the puppet's gestures.

Angie laughed evilly, reaching out to one of the pots hanging from the ceiling wood, unhooking it from its place and looking at you again.

“Oh, no… No… No…” you said, shaking your head at her intentions. “Angie, don’t…”

The doll nodded mockingly and, grabbing the pot with both hands, threw it to the floor, causing a terribly unpleasant noise that tortured your ears.

“Angie!” you shrieked, pressing your temples hard to mitigate the pain the noise caused in your hungover head.

“Non sono stato io!” the nervous lady said, waking up abruptly, wrinkling her forehead and bringing her hand to her black hair. “Oh… Ho mal di testa…”

“Donna…” you sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me you remember anything that happened last night…”

“Last night? No, Io… My, my whole body hurts… I don’t feel well…” she murmured, shaking her head and looking at herself, covering her body immediately. “Why am I naked?”

“Great, I don’t know,” you said, with the same broken voice, exhausted and in pain. “The only thing I remember is that liquor…” you whispered, pointing at the bottle.

“Mm…” she murmured, closing her eye so the pain would calm down. It wasn’t going to do it. “Maledizione…”

“Well, I remember talking something about a maid, but that doesn’t explain why we’re naked on the couch…” you said thoughtfully. “Gods… What a hangover…”

“A maid? No, I don’t remember,” Donna said, covering you affectionately. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“We should have thought about that before sleeping here, naked,” you groaned, frustrated at not being able to remember. “Wait, have we…?”

“I don't know…” the sleepy lady whispered, annoyed even by the soft volume of your voice. “I can't remember.”

“Ahem,” a shrill voice said, the Angie doll, who was walking towards you with her arms crossed. “It seems that you have amnesia, don't you? How convenient…”

“Angie…” Donna sighed, annoyed by the high-pitched tone of her doll's voice. “Shut up, please…”

“Oh, you want me to shut up, huh, silly Donna?” the doll mocked, climbing onto the coffee table and pacing around it haughtily. “Then I suppose you don't want to know what happened last night.”

Donna and you looked at each other, frowning.

“Do you know?” you asked, holding the blanket and sitting upright on the couch.

“Do I know?” Angie asked, pointing at herself. “You've traumatized me, stupid!”

“Don't yell…”Donna and you whispered in unison, shaking your heads with a painful sob.

“It's been the worst experience of my life, Donna! Since when do you say such dirty things?” the doll asked, pointing at her owner, who shrank on the couch, comically hiding behind your back.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” the lady said nervously, starting to blush. You looked at her with the same confused expression.

“Oh, allow me to explain it to you,” the puppet said, pretending to clear her throat. “More, (Y/N), more! Faster, fuck me like the filthy maid you are! That's it, use your mouth, doll, eat me out!”

“Basta, basta, Angie,” Donna said hurriedly, shaking her head effusively. “I couldn't say that.”

“Couldn’t you? Oh, and you too, you Donna-stealer,” Angie said pointing at you. “Yes, Donna, deeper, deeper, use me like the doll I am!”

“Hey, shut up now, is this a joke?” you protested also embarrassed. Well, at least that fit with your nakedness, and clothes on the floor. “Oh, shit… She heard us,” you whispered to the lady in black, who sank in the couch.

“I heard you and the whole village too, I'm pretty sure,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “What are you up to? I mean, to add more things to the fact that you don't stop ignoring me, you have to rub your obscenities right in my face, huh?”

“Angie, it, it wasn't on purpose,” Donna said, stammering. “It was the limoncello…”

“Of course, blame it on the alcohol,” the doll mocked, pointing at the bottle. “You're a couple of drunken nymphomaniacs! I hate you!”

“Angie, wait,” the lady in black murmured, leaning over the doll as Angie angrily climbed down from the table, disappearing from the room. “Don't hate me…”

It might have seemed like one of Angie's passing tantrums, one of her calls for attention, but she was pretty serious that time. She didn't show up for the whole morning. Donna wanted to pretend she didn't care, but her face said it all.

“Grazie, tesoro…” the lady murmured as you poured her some medicine for that horrible headache, one that you also took.

“Honey, you're worried,” you said in a soft voice, sitting next to her on the couch. Poor Donna was so sick that she couldn't even work on her dolls. You should have listened to the Duke's advice.

“It's nothing,” she whispered, drinking the medicine and rubbing her forehead.

“It's because of Angie, isn't it?” you asked in a more tender voice, looking for the doll with your eyes. She wasn't there.

Donna nodded slowly, squeezing her eye tightly.

“I've never seen her that mad,” she said, looking at the ceiling, letting you hug and caress her in a comforting way. “I can't believe we... Cazzo...”

“Well, it was a mistake, neither of us intended to traumatize her, it was a horrible mistake,” you said, with an amused smile, lifting her chin and kissing her deformed cheek, one of her favorite gestures of affection.

She smiled slightly, but shook her head.

“The... incident last night wouldn't be so important if... If she wasn't right,” the lady said, with a tired sigh.

“What do you mean?”

“Angie has always been with me, since I was 6 years old she has been inseparable for me,” the brunette began, looking at the floor, remembering… “She was my only friend and, I, I was so happy when I could give her life… She was my companion, my faithful companion…”

“Mm, I understand,” you said softly.

“You came into my life to turn everything upside down, you know? Don't get me wrong, I don't know what I would do without you but… It's, it's true that I may have neglected Angie,” Donna said, to which you smiled tenderly. “I used to play with her before, talk for hours… And now, it's, it's true that I don't pay as much attention to her and on top of that… On top of that last night… Oh, mio Dio… How embarrassing…”

“Don't blame yourself, Donna, we are both guilty of not having control,” you said softly, rubbing her back.

“I can't imagine how humiliating it was for Angie to see me… like this…” the ventriloquist lamented, burying her face in her hands.

“Well… If you're so worried…” you sighed thoughtfully, controlling the pain in your head. “Why don't we do something for her?”

“Now it's really getting interesting…” a mocking voice appeared by surprise.

Angie, who seemed to be listening (to no one's surprise) suddenly appeared, walking while laughing mockingly and jumping onto Donna's lap.

“Hey, were you spying on us?” you asked amused, trying not to be unpleasant.

“Yes, although last night you put me off doing it anymore,” the puppet said.

Donna smiled tenderly, carefully placing Angie's clothes.

“Perdonami, Angie… I didn't mean to make you feel that way,” the lady said, apologizing sincerely.

“Mm, it's too soon to accept your apologies, silly Donna…” the doll said with a cocky tone, but not getting off her lap. “But I’ve heard something I liked…”

“Let me guess, it's when I said we should do something for you, am I wrong?” you said with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile.

“I think we're starting to understand each other, you silly intruder…” Angie murmured in a sinister voice.

“What do you want?” Donna asked, staring at her, frowning. “We'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“Well, whatever…” you murmured, catching the doll's attention, who turned her head sharply.

“Do you want me to forgive you, stupid fools?” Angie asked mockingly, standing on Donna's legs. You both nodded automatically. “Well, I want… I want… I want… Oh! Get up.”

You and Donna looked at each other but obeyed. The doll sat on the couch, swinging her legs expectantly.

“Do you remember the puppet show you did when you were 17, silly Donna?” Angie asked, pointing at the brunette, who frowned.

“Yes, of course I remember them,” she said, in a seemingly calm voice. “The Mighty Angie versus the Moon Monsters.”

“Yes, that's it, that's it!” the doll said.

You looked at the lady, confused.

“I want you two to make me a puppet show, I want one of those stories like the ones Donna told me,” the doll demanded, tilting her head.

“What is she talking about?” you asked in a small voice. “A puppet show? It must be a joke.”

“I'm afraid it’s not, tesoro…” the lady sighed, crossing her arms. “Okay, Angie.”

“Well, I'll go get the stuff, you two should do some… Rehearsing…”

The Angie doll ransacked the whole house to take out an old, hand-made stage along with two puppets. One was Angie herself, and the other was a deformed monster.

“Here,” Donna said, putting the stage on the floor and handing that horrible monster you.

“Wait, wait,” you said nervously. “Hey, Donna, I have no idea how to do this, besides, why do I have to be this bug thing?”

“No complaints, silly (Y/N)! Only my Donna can be the Mighty Angie!” the doll protested. You growled annoyed by the irritating voice that still made a dent in your wounded head.

“Calm down, tesoro, you'll see that it's easy,” Donna said, concentrated, touching up the last details of that scenario and kneeling behind it. “Come, kneel with me.”

“Donna, I don't know what this Mighty Angie thing is about,” you said gently, making the gesture of quotation marks with your fingers. “What do I do?”

“I'm waiting…” the doll hummed impatiently, making you growl again.

“I'm coming,” you said in a gruff tone.

Donna smiled at you and reassured you with a soft kiss on your lips.

“You'll do very well, amore mio,” the lady said with a tender voice. It even seemed that somehow she was happy to do that. You thought it was simply adorable.

It was quite difficult at first, but soon you were able to improvise that show. Donna was giving voice to the puppet, which, of course, was the great heroine of the story.

“Get back, stupid moon monster! You don't know who you're messing with,” the Mighty Angie said said approaching where you were sticking the puppet out.

 Seeing Donna doing those things always amused you. You wondered why a woman so cheerful and funny on the inside, was so gloomy on the outside.

“So you are the Mighty Angie,” you said, getting into the role of a dangerous monster, deepening your voice in a way that made you blush. Luckily, Angie couldn't see you. “Surely you're not as mighty as they say... Um... Um... Ha, ha, ha...” you laughed evilly

“You think so, huh? Haven't they taught you manners in your cave, you disgusting bug? Don't worry. I'll take care of that.”

Donna brought her puppet closer to yours, pretending to fight, even making sounds and growls in a really impressive way. She certainly had a talent for that stuff.

“You won’t beat me, you space leech!” Angie’s puppet shrieked, struggling with yours.

“You think you’re so powerful, huh? You’ll never be able to beat me!” the moon monster said laughing evilly as your blush disappeared.

“No, Mighty Angie, it’s provoking you! You’re stronger than it!” the real Angie shrieked, waving her arms excitedly.

“Oh, so you have allies…” you murmured, turning the puppet towards the couch, pointing at Angie with one of its tentacles. “Maybe I should finish them off first…”

“Never!” the other puppet exclaimed, lunging at yours. “Aha, that’s your weak point! Your force shield doesn't cover your back!”

You looked at Donna in confusion and she shrugged, laughing in amusement. You smiled too. You weren't having a bad time after all.

“Oh no, she's figured it out! Mighty Angie, spare my life, I'll leave this planet forever,” you said in a pleading tone, bringing the puppet's tentacles together.

“Too late, space slug!” the small puppet screamed before launching itself at yours for the final attack.

“Oh no… I'm dying…” you said, feigning agony and dropping the monster on the stage.

“Good! Good!” Angie clapped. “Mighty Angie is invincible! That was great, you fools!”

“Ugh,” you sighed, standing up and removing the puppet from your hand, helped by the lady, who did the same, shaking your clothes.

“You haven't been too bad, have you? You're good at it,” Donna commented, bringing her puppet closer to pretend to eat you. “Yum, yum.”

You laughed shyly under her warm smile, approaching her and kissing her tenderly on the lips.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Angie protested, getting off the couch and pushing her owner's legs away from you. “No kisses, silly fools!”

“Oh, come on, we've told you a great story,” you said amused, finally moving away from the lady in black.

“Do you accept my apologies now, Angie?” Donna asked, with a pleading look, extending her hand towards the puppet's.

“Mm, let me think... No, I don’t”

“You don’t?” you two asked at the same time.

“Um, it seems that you don't realize the seriousness of your actions, you drunken fools... If you think that with that show you're going to make me forget about last night, you can wait for it,” Angie said, pretending to look at her nails.

“Angie, we've done what you wanted, hey, we need to rest for a while,” you said, with the kindest voice possible.

“No sleeping!” the puppet shrieked, making the pain return to your head. Donna and you groaned at those shrieks. “You're going to do what I tell you or I won't forgive you.”

“I'm starting to think that it's not so bad having you hating us,” you murmured, crossing your arms. Donna approached, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Per favore, amore mio... Let's play along a bit longer. She'll soon get tired and leave us alone," Donna told you with a sincere look that exuded confidence.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, nodding slowly.

“Okay... Okay, Donna, I'll do it for you.”

That was the beginning of that hellish day.

Angie had taken absolute control of the Beneviento house. You and Donna showered her with little details, whims like balls of wool to play with, children’s games around the house...

Of course, Angie knew how she wanted to spend her time, she had an idea for every moment and you had no choice but to bow your heads and accept. Otherwise, Angie would start shouting the obscene phrases she heard the night before, something Donna couldn't stand.

Damn blackmailing doll...

“What are you doing? Keep fanning me, you fool,” the doll demanded while you fanned. She certainly looked like a queen from another time, even with her own private throne, one that Donna had to desperately search for in the attic.

“What’s the point of that? Can you even feel it?” you asked, sighing tiredly, lying on the floor in a humiliating manner.

The doll slowly turned towards you, with a look you already knew.

“Oh, Donna, use your tongue on my…!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll fan you…” you said annoyed, earning a sinister laugh from the doll.

Your body hadn’t yet recovered from the hangover and, after hours of playing hide and seek, you were increasingly tired. It seemed that Angie didn’t want to waste a single minute of her glorious day.

“But, don't, yell, please,” you hissed while moving your hand.

Donna appeared shortly after, holding a small doll in her hands.

“Here it is,” she murmured, crouching down next to you and giving the toy to Angie. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes!” Angie shouted, getting down from the throne and picking up the small doll. “How pretty it is!” she exclaimed, hugging her gift.

Donna laughed amused, unable to hide her tiredness.

“Thank you…” the doll sighed, hugging her owner in a tender way, like you had never seen before. You smiled too and even more so when Angie walked towards you, giving you the same hug. “Hey, you're being very good to me, fools.”

“I never thought I'd say this but…” you murmured, hugging the doll back. “The truth is that you are adorable when you want to.”

“What nonsense, I always am,” the doll said, gesturing with her hand and playing with her new doll.

“Have fun with your new doll, I think we…” Donna said, taking your hand to get you up and yawning comically. “Are going to take a nap…”

“No way,” Angie protested, with that sinister tone again. “Don't you know what time it is, silly Donna?”

“No…” the lady sighed frowning, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck sweetly.

“Tea time!”

“No, Angie, please…” you sighed, putting a hand on your forehead.

Of course, you had to have tea with her and her dolls… That was the worst part.

“Do you want some sugar Mrs. Thin Butts?” the doll asked, playing with her toy tea set. If only it had been real tea…

You looked at poor Donna who, due to exhaustion, had fallen asleep leaning against the sofa, her head resting on her hand.

“Mrs. Thin Butt…” you said through your teeth, nudging her awake.

“Dove siamo?” she asked, shaking her head.

“I say if you wanted sugar, silly!” Angie shrieked, eliciting another annoyed grunt from you.

Fortunately, that fake tea was the last of Angie’s demands. It took a whole day, but she finally got tired of torturing you.

“Aren’t you having dinner, tesoro?” Donna asked, sitting down on the couch next to you, a plate of fruit on her lap.

“I’m not hungry,” you said in a husky voice, curling up on yourself on the couch. “Well, if you give me a piece of that apple…” you said, sitting up and taking the piece the lady cut with a knife, giving it to you in a romantic way.

“It’s been a rough day, hasn’t it?” she murmured, running a gentle hand through your hair. “Don’t worry, it’s over.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, glancing at the bottle of liquor that was still in its place. You felt a chill. “Remind me not to drink again…”

“My grandfather used to say that a glass of limoncello was perfect for a hangover,” Donna commented, taking the bottle.

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Even if that limoncello is the one to blame?” you joked.

The lady in black shrugged, uncorking the bottle and taking a sip.

“It’s better than last night… But it’s warm,” she said, making a face of disgust. “I’ll go get some cold glasses.”

“Bring me five,” you said, making a vague gesture with your hand.

It was obvious that you hadn’t learned from your mistakes and, when that bottle was already empty, the laughter and babbling reached the dark room again.

“Hey, hey, hey Donna…” you said, unable to stop laughing, climbing up her body again. “Shall I tell you a secret?”

The lady laughed with red cheeks again, with that sinister look that the liquor caused her.

A few quick steps made you look at Angie, who was running away in terror.

“Oh, no! Not again!”

[goldfish-fhr]

Okay but when Julia was going on abt getting older and being told pregnancy was probs not gunna happen—I jus know oro was like “!!???” Woman what are you talking about 😭 i couldn’t put a kid in you even if I wanted to” she’s focusing on all the wrong things

[vulpixhoney]

why does Rick Riordan hate the original myths so bad 💀

the Asphodel stuff?? regret? where is that coming from? you fully just made that shit up? out of his ass fr. the fields of Asphodel are specifically an area of neutrality, where the pretty much all mortals go when they die. it's for anyone who lived a normal life, who isn't a hero or a literal monster. it's specifically a neutral zone for people to exist once they die, it has nothing to do with ~your regrets in life~. it's like, a peaceful field of flowers where all your life's troubles are left behind on the surface.

the closest things to that is the fields of mourning/sorrow, but that's specifically for unrequited romantic love and also not called the fields of Asphodel (and also I'd bet money that rr doesn't know what that is) (and also only in Virgil's The Aeneid and not the Odyssey with the rest of what we know of the underworld)

[witchofthemidlands]

BAD SISTERS || Chopped Liver

This reads like an incorrect quote but this is, in fact, an actual line from this show in a conversation between the two most serious characters in this series.

[meezer]

spending this much time and effort and energy working towards a career path I really do not like or want or will ever go into is really taking the wind out of my sails not gonna lie. and making me hate the humanities 😍

[delicatetaysversion]

real

[keeps-ache]

ouuhwhuh the nectar (water) ! ohhuhuihouhuhu

...am i a fish

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also quite the illustration in wags being like "'not asking permission' - wags" and plowing through someone expressing a physical boundary but he was already intending to use physical violence & violation & assumed corresponding distress as a tool to get his way....amidst the typicality, "correctness," permissibility of all that around here like five times an hour

[bestial4ngel]

My god, the duel from great comet seriously has no right to be so good

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 18- Master!Miguel x Maid!Reader

"Did you hear? Another maid got fired for trying to flirt with the master." One of the head maids whispered. Another sighed,

"That's five this month. When are these young girls going to learn?"

"What about (Y/n)? She's been here for a while, has she made any comments about our master?"

"Thank goodness no. She is so focused on work that the poor girl might never get a boyfriend!"

        You frowned as you listened to the head maids chatter. You moved away from the wall you were hiding behind. You had no choice but to focus on work because of your bills. It would be a lie if you said you were not interest in the master of his household. Your master, Miguel O'Hara, was a wealthy man who always disappeared for business work. No one questioned anything. You were all hired to keep his mansion clean and tidy.

        Your job was to clean the main dining room. Due to other young maids, no one but the head maids were allowed to clean the master's bedroom. It was too dangerous. It was obvious as to why. The master was tall, toned and handsome. The only time you truly got to see him was when he returned home. Everyone in the mansion greeted him. You always tried to glance at him any other time, but you were afraid of getting caught and fired.

        A soft sigh escaped your lips as you thought about what the head maids said. You wanted a boyfriend, but it felt impossible. Every time you went on a date, something would happen to the person you were seeing. You started to wonder if it was you. As you walked down the hall, you heard a low grunt. Confused, you followed the strange noise and stopped in front of your master's room. You were told to stay as far away from here.

"Um, M-Master, are you okay?" You hesitantly asked, more worried about getting fired.

        It went silent. Taking a step back, you looked around to make sure no one saw you. Perhaps now would be best to leave? Right as you were about to turn your heel, the door opened.

"(Y/n)?" Miguel groaned lowly, leaning against the doorframe. You gulped, staring at him since he looked like he was in pain,

"Are you okay, master?" You asked.

        God, he looked so sexy. His shirt was undone, exposing his toned chest. Miguel was panting for air and sweat was rolling down his forehead. Realizing that your master was in pain, you immediately panicked.

"Master, shall I fetch you some medication? You don't look well," 

"It's just a headache," Miguel told you before sighing, "How are you with head massages?"

"Excuse me?" You were caught off guard by the question. Miguel faced you,

"Medicine won't work, but I'll be better with a head massage."

"Oh, um, I can try. If not, I'm sure one of the head maids ca-"

"I'm asking you. Not them."

        You flinched towards his demand. Agreeing to his request, you followed your master into his bedroom. The one place that all those other maids had failed to enter. You hesitantly followed him, taking in every little detail. The room smelled so good. Hopefully, this won't get you fired. You watched as Miguel laid against the couch, patting the space above his head. 

        You were nervous. What if you did a horrible job? Sitting down, you scooted closer and gulped as your master placed his head on your lap. He was so close! You inhaled softly before starting to rub your fingers against his forehead. You're watched enough videos, so hopefully you could copy what you saw. Hearing his rumbling groan, you bit your lower lip. God, he was so hot.

         Miguel groaned lowly as he relaxed to your touch. His headaches have been getting worse with his workload lately. That and the fact that you kept trying to date men who weren't good enough for you. With all the drama with other maids trying ti flirt with him, Miguel never had a chance to talk to you. You, the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. You, the determined worker. You, the woman he wanted. Miguel was thankful that you passed by his door. This was pleasant.

"Is this alright, master? Am I doing okay?" You asked.

Master.

        That word rolled so nicely off your lips. Miguel lowered his hand to hide his growing erection. Oh how he wanted to hear you cry for him. To drill you with his dick as you called him, master.

"Si. I'm feeling better already," He lowered his voice.

        Miguel was just happy to have his head on your lap. Like a soft cushion. He needed you to keep visiting him. He may be the master of this mansion, but he was still a man. Closing his eyes, Miguel relaxed under your touch. He was going to get used to this.

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

        You tried to hide your smile as you hurried to Miguel's room with his dinner. Ever since he had you massage his head, Miguel had requested you to do for stuff for him. It made your heart flutter that you were getting close to him. All of the head maids shook their heads towards ypu getting cozy with the master, but hell! He requested you!

"Master! I've brought your dinner!" You chirped, knocking befoer entering. Miguel was sitting on his couch,

"(Y/N), you look awfully cheerful today." He said, adoring your smile. You placed his meal in front of him, "Do tell," Miguel loved to hear you ramble about your day.

"Well, I finally paid off one of my bills!" You chirped before hesitating, "That and...my last date asked me for another date. I was kind of wor-"

"Que?" Miguel stopped you in your tracks, "He asked for a second date?"

You could hear Miguel's angry tone, "Um...Yes?" You flinched as Miguel stood and approached you.

"You're not going out with him," He said firmly and stroked your cheek, "You're too good for him."

        That and Miguel was mad that the fucker dared to contact you again after he paid him. Miguel made sure to keep you single so that he could have you to himself.

"M-Master?"

        You glanced up at Miguel, leaning your head into the palm of his hand. They were so big and warm. You could feel your heart race as Miguel moved his hand to your waist. You could feel the tension. Miguel pulled you towards his bed and sat down. His grip still tight against your waist, your uniform blocking his touch.

"(Y/N), tell me what I am to you." Miguel's tone was needy. It made you melt.

"My Master."

"Mhm, you do as I say, right?" He started to draw circles around your waist, "You're not going to date anyone because you're going to be mine. Understood?"

"Y-Yes, Master," You bit your lower lip as he lowered you to his lap.

"I want you to take care of, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear, "Let me hear your voice."

        You started to tremble as Miguel stroked the outline of your dress. He leaned forward to kiss your neck, removing your collar with his teeth. You let out a small whimper as Miguel sucked on your neck. Heat started to form between your legs as you felt his erection grind against your panties. Tingles shot up your spine as your head flung back from pleasure. Miguel hummed, enjoying your body riding against his hips. Your damp panties starting to stain his pants.

        It was still not enough. You moaned lowly as Miguel brought his hand to your cunt, moving your panties aside to rub your folds. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as you began to ride his hand. His long fingers teasing your entrance, making you clench nothing but air. His hot breathe against your ear as you whimpered from his teasing.

"You have to ask for it." He said with a smirk.

"P-Please, Master."

"That's right, keep begging me." You moaned as Miguel entered two fingers into your pussy, pumping them against your tight gummy walls, "Look at you, about to cum on your master's hand."

"Master~" You tensed as his fingers curled against your pussy, causing you to orgasm, "Hah, Master!"

"Good girl, (Y/N). Always a hard worker," He praised, removing his hand to undo his pants, "Will you continue to work hard for me?"

"Yes, Master."

        You took a moment to catch your breathe as you positioned yourself above him. You moved his hand away from his cock, grabbing it instead. You were hesitant, but after seeing the lust in his eyes, you folded. Pumping his dick a few times, you cried out as he started to stretch your pussy. You were slow, but you kept going down on him, shaking from the intense feeling. Your hands rested against Miguel's chest, trying to finish putting his dick inside you.

        Miguel let out a grunt as he helped. He thrusted upward, causing you to cry loudly. His cock shoved so deep inside you that it made your vision blur for a second. He demanded that you move, to which to listened. Your cries became loud moans as you bounced on his dick. Your body leaned back as you rode him, pleasure overtaking you. Miguel held your waist, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit in the process. This made you cum again.

"Master!"

"Don't stop until your work is done," Miguel gave you an order.

        You whined, slowing down from your high. Miguel gripped your waist, rubbing your clit harder as he started to thrust. Your moans were music to his ears. No other man was going to have you. Not when you worked for him. Not when he was fucking your pussy this good. Changing positions, Miguel had your stomach against the bed, drilling you from behind. The strings of your maid uniform giving him even more of a high.

"Fuck, look at you taking your master's dick so well. Does it feel good? Being fucked by your master?"

"Yes, Master~! Please give me more, Master~!" You begged, gripping onto the bedsheets. Miguel pounded your pussy, making sure to fill you with his cum,

"You'll listen to your master's orders then, right? No dating anyone. This pussy is mine."

"Yes, Master!" You trembled as he kept slapping his dick into you.

"You're my personal maid. I'll take care of all your bills and you. You deserve everything, mi amor (my love)." He groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick more, "Fuck, you look so good with my dick in you. My perfect girl."

"Master!"

        Miguel had you working hard throughout the night. He made sure to take care of you and your issues. You were his personal maid, making sure to take care of all of his 'issues'. Eventually, you graduated from his maid to his wife. 

"C'mon, baby. Say it for me." Miguel groaned as he had you on your back, his dick pounding your pussy, "Just once more."

"Master~" You purred, arching your back as you orgasmed. Miguel moaned in response, giving you his fill,

"That's right, baby. I'm your Master."

[saltinesinsoup]

god. man.

[arina24]

Winters with Winter

Aespa Winter x M Reader

3.6k words

Tags: SMUT, some fluff, blowjob, missionary, virgin

There was a nip in the air. Winter's arrival was faster than expected. You realized this was going to be yet another winter you were going to spend being a little more lonely than you wished. It wasn't all too bad. Winters weren't completely horrible. The opportunity to snuggle with a hot cup of coffee or chocolate was comforting. You just wished you were snuggling with someone, that's all.

It was yet another chilly morning as you made your way to work. That particular morning, winter had carried with her some generous showers, and fortunately you didn't forget your umbrella that day. In fact, you had two. You forgot an umbrella the previous day and bought an extra one from the store, and now you just travel with 2 umbrellas, because why not.

As you got off from the metro train, you fidgeted with the tight button, trying to open it, before a young woman catches your eye. She was maybe a couple years younger than you, it was hard to tell her age with how strikingly cute she was. She was in a simple blue tee, with a hoodie for protection from the cold. Blonde hair flowing down her neck, and bouncing off the shoulders of her petite body.

She was extremely beautiful and all, but the reason she caught your eye was because she seemed to be extremely nervous, biting her nails as she kept looking outside at the pouring rain, as if she could wish it away to go from 100 to 0 in 2 seconds. You didn't know what it was for, but she clearly needed to be out there. Something made you walk up to her. "Hey, need an umbrella?" You asked. She looked up to you, freeing her nails from her mouth.

"Umm, Yeah! Yes I do! OMG I've got an interview and I was so stupid to forget my umbrella." She paused for a moment, seeming to get over the initial excitement of getting hope. "Wait, if you give me yours, what will you do?" She looked even cuter close up, her hair almost magical and making her look like some sort of angel.

"It's alright, I've got another one. Yesterday I forgot mine and bought an extra." You replied, for some reason wanting her to take it and almost pushing the umbrella in her hands.

"Thank you, I wish I could thank you more but it's already really late for the interview. How do I return this to you?" She put her hands in her handbag. "Maybe I can pay you something..."

"No no, just go do well in your interview. Don't worry about all this."

"Thank you again, I hope you get all the good things in life." She replied before rushing away into the rain with your umbrella in the air.

The small interaction made you feel better. You lost an umbrella. You might never see her again. But it made you feel good. In fact as fate would have it, you would see her again. But not the umbrella.

A few nights later, as you were going home in the metro, couple of fingers tap your shoulder. You look back to see the same girl, in a pretty pink dress this time, surrounded by a thick hoodie. The dress only came down to her thighs, and you were wondering how she went out in this chilling winter with exposed legs.

"Hello, umbrella man. Do you remember me?"

"Wha- Umbrella ma-? Miss I've got a name."

"I bet you do, but you haven't told me it."

"Y/N" You offer your hand, covered in gloves. Unsurprisingly, her legs weren't the only unexposed skin, and her bare palm meets your gloves.

"Winter."

"Yeah, it's cold. That's why I've got them on."

"No, my name's Winter." She replied, giggling, making the cutest noise.

"Huh? Cute name. No wonder you seem to be handling it so well."

"Yes I was born with the powers to handle winter, which my parents sensed so excellently." She joked, giggling again. "Oh wait your umbrella, let me return it." She shoved her hands in her hand bag, searching for a solid 2 minutes before she looks up at you with a dejected face. "Sorry... I forgot it again."

"That's alright, I didn't hope to retrieve it anyway. How did your interview go though?"

"It went great, I was offered the job. The least I can do is return it for you. Which station do you get off on?"

"Antarse Street"

"Oh that's my stop too. My house is a 3 minute walk from there. If you come with me, I can return your umbrella." She replied, excited at the possibility.

You weren't sure if you wanted to go. It was late in the evening and you didn't really want your umbrella back, it was an old one which you would have thrown away in a while anyway. You hesitate to reply.

"I'll even make you some coffee. Though I can't attest to how good it is. No one else has had my coffee." She continues, hoping to win you over with coffee.

The thought of being the first other person to have Winter's coffee was enough to convince you. You continue talking with her till the stop comes. She yaps a lot. You listen. She likes that. She talks about how she’s been so desperate for a job, until she finally found one at the interview after your chance meeting. She had just graduated college and was more or less alone in the city, which made you a bit sad, but also made you feel she was in a way, like you.

She's clumsy, but endearing. Her hair was tied up today. The hoodie covering up most of her dress. You wonder how she'd look in just her pink dress and her hair flowing free again. She would look like spring flowers, you thought. Winter.... an ironic name for her. You step off the station with her, and start walking with her. She begins blowing into her hands as the chill gets a bit more intense, late in the night.

"You alright?" You ask, a bit concerned. She was clearly not a very forward thinking girl.

"Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have forgotten my gloves as well." She replies meekly.

"You can have mine if you want. I'm not very cold."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah your hands seem to be freezing."

"Alright.. maybe you deserve a bit more than just coffee." She said with a smirk.

You weren't sure what that meant, but you removed your gloves, tapped it off a couple of times to get rid of any dirt and offered it to her. She put it on and smiled. It felt intimate. It was your gloves around her hands and not your hands. But it felt just as intimate as holding her hands. The look in her eyes said she felt the same.

Her apartment was more than a few blocks away, more than the 3 minute walk she promised. But it felt nice to be walking in this weather with her. It’s been a while since you’ve walked alone with a girl like this, even though the cold made her less talkative. Soon, the two of you reach her building. The apartment building wasn't anything to speak of, and her house less so. Things were a mess, even the living room.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah, it's a 1 bedroom, recently moved here for the job. Sorry for the mess... I just forget things." That much was clear to you already. She continued sheepishly, "You see, I wasn't expecting visitors."

"Yeah? Bet it would have been spic and span if you did." You reply, mocking her.

She stares at you, pretending to be offended, and hits your shoulder. "Meanie. Now wait here as I go make your coffee." She says, shoving some clothes off a seat in the couch to create space for you. You sit there awkwardly and look around the rest of the room.

There’s a table and few chairs, but not where they’re supposed to be. Table in one corner, and chairs in the opposite corner, also filled with clothes. The table has a strewn collection of random items, among them a picture of what looks like a younger Winter with her parents. She’s posing cutely for the camera near a Mickey Mouse cutout, with her parents standing behind the cutout.

“Do I look cute in that pic?” Her voice calls out, catching you surprised.

“What- I mean yeah, yeah, baby you is a cutie. These are your parents?”

“Yeah.. they passed away in an accident last year. I’ve had this photo on my table ever since.” She replies in a silent tone. “Oh I’m so sorry Winter..”, you reply. It made you wonder how she really was doing, she mentioned she didn’t really have any friends in the city, and with her parents not being here either.... must have been rough. She really didn’t show it if she did, always having a cheerful and playful tone, except for this one instance. You wondered how well you were hiding yours.

“Enough being sad, you came here for coffee so let’s have it.” She breaks the silence, and presents two cups with generous amounts of coffee. Actually, you came here for your umbrella, but you decide not to remind her of that fact and just accept her coffee. “So moment of truth, let’s find out if my coffee is actually good or I’ve just been gaslighting myself for the past 2 years.” Both of you take a sip of her coffee.

“Well... it’s certainly coffee.” You reply, then immediately wondering if you should have just lied. “Huh? I didn’t expect that.” She says, a bit dejected, but continues, “Well, you’re gonna have to make do with it.” The two of you finish drinking down the rest of your cups.

“Let me remove my hoodie, it’s already hot enough in here.” She says and takes off her hoodie in front of you, and frees up her hair, now in just her pink dress and flowing hair like you were imagining earlier. She looks more angelic than you were expecting somehow, even with minimal makeup after what seemed like a long day at her work. You couldn’t help but stare a bit too long.

“What are you looking at? Want me to get you one of these dresses? I think you would look good in this too.” She teases you, as you break away from staring and reply to her. “Why not just give me this one? I gave you my gloves and umbrella after all.” She moves closer to you. “How about I give you something else in return?” She says, in a low whispering, almost erotic tone.

“Hmm, like what?”

She leans in even closer, and her lips catch yours in an expected kiss. You are taken aback, as she pulls away. “Wait... was it not okay? I’m so sorry...” she stumbles, before you reply to her by kissing her back, erasing all suspicions from her mind. The kiss is innocent initially, but quickly turns lewder. Your tongue entering her mouth as her lips part, your tongue playing with hers in a lewd dance, as you taste all of her.

She tastes like sweet honey, and makes you let out a soft moan as you throw an arm around her neck and pull her in even closer to you. Her hand begins at your chin, and travels down your chest, slowly caressing you, before finally resting on your bulge, which was quickly growing harder and harder for her. Your other arm travels down her back, then catching her cute ass, which you squeeze softly, making her moan.

Pulling away from the kiss, you ask her, “You like that baby?”

“Yes I do.” She replies in a very soft, submissive tone, which turns you on even more.

“If you’re gonna give me the dress, we’re gonna have to take you out of it."

“That seems logical.” She replies and begins to fidget with her zipper, before you help her and get it all off her and throw it on the chair, adding to the already big pile of clothes. She’s in a soft pink bra, matching her dress, and black panties. You bring one hand down to her panties, and can see that it’s already dripping in her wetness.

With your other hand you tease her boobs over her bra, before unhooking her bra and throwing it off into the unknown. You circle your fingers around her nipple, and then bring your mouth near it. You start softly sucking on her nipples, as the slightest touch seems to stimulate her a lot, making her moan loudly and suppress various curses.

“Let’s head for your bedroom~ Look like we’ll defenitely be needing one tonight, and not just for sleeping.” That makes her giggle, and she grabs your hand and pulls you towards her bedroom. Entering, you lock the door, and the room is somehow even more of a mess than her living room.

You just push away the clothes, then softly push her on the bed. She tugs at your shirt, indicating she wants you out of clothes too. With her help, soon you’re out of your shirt and pants, with your cock almost wanting to burst out of your boxers already with how hard it is. She rubs her hand over your boxers, teasing your cock.

“My my~ You’re so hard already.”

“All because of you, baby.”

“Yeah baby? Why don’t you show me exactly how turned on I’ve gotten you.” Even the way she said baby in a sing-song voice made you feel like it was laced with honey, or maybe it was poison, but it seemed to make you addicted to it either way.

She continued rubbing your cock over your boxers, almost wishing it would come out like magic if she did. You fulfill her wishes and pull down your boxers swiftly, as your cock pops for her.

“It looks very pretty.” She says.

“Since when do cocks look pretty?” You laugh.

“Since today.” She says and wraps her fingers around your cock slenderly, and begins softly stroking you up and down. It was clear she didn’t have much experience with this, as she seemed to be doubting herself while doing so. “You’re doing well baby, you can hold it tighter if you want~” You encourage her. That instantly makes her more confident and her face brightens up.

She responds so cutely to praise, you think. She starts stroking faster and holding you tighter. She spits on her hands, and gently rubs it all over your cock, making sure not to miss a single spot. Her hands just glide over your cock now, making you feel even better as you begin moaning for her softly.

She brings her mouth closer to your cock and starts licking you with her tongue, going up all the way from your balls to your tip, spreading her saliva all over your cock. You place a hand on her head, caressing her hair, which makes her release another cute moan, and she places her lips around your cock. Firstly sucking on your tip, before taking the entirety of your length inside her mouth.

It hits the back of her throat, making her gag a little, although she quickly recovers. She bobs her head up and down on your cock, her tongue swirling around it as you moan louder and louder. Every moan you release and every time you caress your head it makes her more confident, as she sucks on you faster and faster.

After sucking for a while, she releases her mouth from your cock and stops for a pause, catching her breath. “You’re tired already baby? The night is just starting.” You tease her. “Not a chance.” She replies before taking your cock back in her mouth, for another round of sucking.

Her spit now drips out from her mouth, dripping down to her chest, making a mess. Her face and your crotch are both wet with the same thing now. She takes a break for the second time, more out of breath now as she takes heavy breaths with saliva still stretching out from your cock to her mouth.

“That’s enough babe~ Let me return the favour now.” You say and push her down with her head on the pillow. Your fingers reach her panties, and now they have no semblance of ever being anything but a wet dripping mess of her juices. You slide those panties down, exposing her pussy which looks just as cute as her, glistening with wetness.

You slide one finger in, as her juices coat your fingers. You shove the finger in your mouth and taste her juices. “It tastes like sweet nectar.” You tell her. “Don’t you want more of that where that came from, baby” She teases you.

You do, so your mouth goes down to her panties, and you spread your tongue across her pussy. Licking all across, getting a taste of her juices directly, as it makes her moan. “Fuck.” You slide a finger in her pussy at the same time, and start fingering her pussy, your fingers slick with her juices.

You reach her clit with your tongue, and every lick on it stimulates her to the point that she’s screaming. “Fuck! You’re doing so good! Don’t stop... Please don’t stop...” You can feel the neediness in her voice. Her neediness to cum for your mouth. You insert one more finger, and you’re alternating between sucking and licking on her clit, with two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.

You could tell she was getting close with how she was twitching and basically grinding her pussy on your tongue faster than you could lick her. You don’t stop, listening to her desperate moans begging you to keep going.

You insert a third finger when you sense she’s about to cum. She begins squirting as she finishes, her liquids bursting out from her pussy and making a mess on your face, and wetting the sheets of her bed and the clothes around with her liquids. She holds on to your hair indicating you to keep going, and you do it till she’s made the entire bed wet with her juices.

“Fuck... you are so good at that...” She remarks, breathless. “Seems like you wanted to make an even bigger mess on my face than my cock did on yours.” You tease her. She just giggles before replying. “I hope we’re not done yet though.... I still need to feel your cock somewhere else.”

“Yeah? Where do you need to feel it?”

“You know where.. dont act silly” She says, blushing and looking down.

“Winter miss I think you’re well beyond the point of acting shy. Say it or you’re not getting it.”

“I need it in my pussy. I need it deep in my pussy. I wanna feel every inch of your cock in me.”

Hearing her say the thing you wanted to do most to her made you gather all your energy for perhaps the last round of the night. You get on top of her again. Lining up your cock with the pussy you just made squirt all over. She looks in your eye with lustful desire. Her eyes conveying all her deepest wants with nothing hiding it. Yet she somehow managed to look like the cutest girl in the universe. You weren’t sure how. You move your hips forward. She was so wet that your cock slipped right in.

Her pussy was tight, and she wraps her legs around you, not willing to let you go till you give her what she needs so badly. You comply, beginning to move your hips with a rhythm. She places one hand on your chest and pulls your body closer to her. She wants your body close to her. She wants your body ON her.

You catch her lips with yours as you continue thrusting. By this time both your faces and mouths are messes, but neither of you could care less, and the kiss is more intense than last time as you continue fucking her pussy.

She moans through the kiss, her moans escaping into your mouth and she gets loud for your cock in her. As you pull away from the kiss you can hear just how much moans she’s been suppressing. The sounds of your thighs clapping against hers was loud, but her moans easily blow over all of them.

“Fuck baby, your cock feels so fucking good.” All the honey in her baby is now gone. This one is driven by pure unadulterated lust.

You could listen to her moans for years. But you couldn’t keep going for years. All good things come to an end, and you could feel you were close to cumming. “I’m close Winter.” You let her know. “I want it IN ME. Please. Please.” She begs and wraps her legs tighter around you. Not willing to let go either way. You wanted to cum in her anyway.

She intertwines her fingers with yours and holds on to your palm tightly. “Cum in me baby. I want you.” She clenches her pussy around your cock tightly, which makes you release. Your load flows into her pussy filling her up, cumming more than you thought you could cum. As you move your hips back you can watch how much you came in her, with it now dripping out of her.

The two of you try to clean up (as much as you could after that tiring session) and cuddle into each other’s arms trying to fall asleep. You remember what she told you at the end of your first meeting. “I hope you get all the good things in life.” You think you already did.

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 7.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts

“Good morning, Captain,” one cadet greeted him between yawns. 

“Morning,” he replied, keeping his hands in his coat pockets and his head down. It was extremely early when he was finally allowed to return to the Scout facility. The piercing humid cold air from the ferry crossing had left him frozen. 

Life inside the facility was just starting as the cadets began to leave their bunks. From the outside, Levi maintained his characteristic stoic expression. He reached the meeting room, where the rest of the higher-ups would probably either be arriving soon or already present. 

Pushing the door open, he found Erwin, Hange, and Mike already there. Many others would be arriving soon to organize the week’s activities. 

“Hey, shorty,” the brunette greeted, eyes still closed as they bent backward in their seat. Despite their enthusiasm, it was still too early for their full explosive personality. 

“Hange, you’re going to fall,” Erwin warned, ever the mother of the team. 

Levi didn’t reply and simply let himself fall into a chair, slouched. Hands still in pockets, he appeared to lack the energy even to pull them out or keep them warm on their own. 

The quietness of the man caught the squad leader’s attention, forcing them to open their eyes and straighten their posture. “You alright?” 

Levi remained with his eyes fixed on the ground. “I asked her out.” 

Suddenly the room fell into a deadly silence, momentarily filled with a hiss from Hange, as if they could feel the pain. They quickly concluded the outcome from the Captain’s demeanor. 

“Oh well, Levi. Sometimes these things don’t work out as we wish and—” 

Erwin’s consolation speech was interrupted by, “She said yes.” 

“SHE SAID YES?!” Hange shouted excitedly, slapping the table with both hands, standing up, and pushing the chair backward in the process. 

Mike, who had been casually having breakfast, just raised an eyebrow. “If she said yes... why the long face?” 

Erwin grimaced uneasily, raising one hand as if the situation were incomprehensible. “I’m confused…” 

--- 

Her movements stopped midway as his sentence pierced the room. She left the kettle back on the stove, but her eyes never left his, mouth hanging slightly open. Finally breaking eye contact, she looked to the sides, almost searching for someone. 

“Uhm...” she hummed, analyzing her next words. Lips parted to say something, but after giving it a second thought, she groaned and closed them again. 

Levi felt his enthusiasm withdraw quickly. 

“You...” she muttered, fingers playing together as she avoided eye contact. “You... have been flirting with me?” Her index fingers stopped playing with each other to point at him, only to then point at herself with her thumbs. 

Levi felt ashamed. “Yes. For the past year, thank you for finally noticing.” 

Y/N’s eyes rolled slowly as if she were trying to recall all their interactions since they met, searching for hidden clues. “That was you flirting?” she whispered, mostly to herself. “Wow.” 

Levi clicked his tongue and sighed loudly with closed eyes, defeated. “I’m man enough to take no for an answer. I don’t want to make it weird.” 

Y/N’s eyes opened wide as the real implications of his words sank in. Her fingers returned to play with themselves nervously. “I mean,” she began again, her voice sounding shyly all of a sudden as her cheeks tinted a subtle rosy color, “I wouldn’t mind a chance to get to know you better.” 

--- 

“She DID say yes!” Hange celebrated. 

“It was the most dubious yes ever, though—” Erwin muttered but gasped as Hange pinched him strongly under the table. “Hey!” 

“Then why are you all sad?” 

“I’m not sad, I’m shocked...” Levi said. “I never imagined reaching this far.” 

Hange chuckled, but Levi grimaced uneasily. “And Erwin is right, she wasn’t thrilled either.” 

“There’s always one of two in a couple who is more invested,” Mike finally shared his piece of mind. 

Erwin nodded, humming briefly. “So? When are you two meeting?” 

“In two weeks.” 

Hange choked on their drink. “Two weeks?! Why so late?” 

“Well...” 

--- 

“Sunday is good for you? It’s my free day.” 

“Oh! Um,” she gave it a thought, “This Sunday I have bingo with my friends, Saturday is Minnie’s birthday, Monday’s ‘Fake Sunday’s MP parties,’ Tuesday another birthday party—” 

--- 

Hange chuckled. “Well, if you two actually have kids and they turn out sociable, we know where they got it from.” 

It was innate to Levi’s nature not to mind what people thought of him. He took life and people as they were presented. If they liked him, fine. If they didn’t, well, they could fuck off, as he would personally say. He had hardly ever been in charge of social events. Usually, Erwin was the leader in that department within their group of friends, whom he met through work. 

This all led to a very particular activity: “planning a date.” The ambiguity of “maybe she’s interested or not” was all fun, wishing for a chance to showcase his interest was convenient. When the chance was given, he had to prove himself up to the expectation or fail the test. So, for probably the first time in his life, Levi had to plan an event and care about what people would think of him—not just any person, but her. She would judge his performance. 

Levi suddenly felt enormous empathy for those biology books from Hange’s shelves that they held to try to explain Titan behavior. He resonated deeply with every single drawn bird in those pages that Hange would explain. “They clean an entire zone to show how detailed they are as partners.” 

“They put up all blue decorations.” 

“They dance weirdly.” 

“They have practiced choreographies with their friends.” 

That’s how Levi felt as he cut through a newspaper page to find options for activities they could do. Like a bird doing a silly dance, decorating a room blue, or cleaning a nest. 

‘It has to be in Wall Sheena, so she doesn’t have to travel long late at night,’ he thought, perhaps like a buck sharpening his antlers to showcase how protective he could be. 

‘Something in an open public space, so she doesn’t feel threatened to be alone.’ 

The hair, the clothes, if it is too much, too many. ‘I should stick to being myself. I won’t be fucking lying the whole relationship.’ 

Yet the pressure was palpable. Years of evolution, and yet Levi grimaced, defeated and cringing at the idea of perhaps some superior creature, like Hange to animals, observing him performing stupid silly rituals for a chance with the opposite gender. 

People gathered around the stands, observing the antiques as they were put on display. 

“Oh my god, you’re Captain Levi?” 

Levi tried to force a somewhat friendly smile, but he simply couldn’t. It was the fifth person, and they had only been there for ten minutes. ‘I didn’t think about this when I chose a crowded place in the capital.’ 

The royal family was holding an exhibition of some of their belongings at one of the government’s buildings, which would be open to the public for the occasion. Nice food, protected from the weather, public so she could feel safe. Perhaps not the most intimate, but it was a first approach. They would have more time in the future to be intimate. 

‘I fucking hope so,’ he thought. 

The only issue was that Levi forgot how he was the only clearly spotted member of the military in a crowd. This problem, in Levi’s opinion, was absolutely ruining the mood. 

Y/N stood aside so the woman could get closer to him. 

“We will forever thank you for holding the front lines during the fall of Wall Maria so more citizens could evacuate—” 

“It’s my job.” This was the third time he was trying to cut the conversation and carry on, but the woman didn’t catch the clue. 

“My son admires you so much!” 

Levi’s eyes tried to catch a glimpse of Y/N, who had eventually gotten bored and was near him but checking a stand. 

‘This is why I never go anywhere. At my chambers or her house, we could be talking peacefully... talking and doing other stuff.’ 

After a million thankful messages, he was finally released. Reaching her side again, he felt the nerves. All that planning, all that effort. 

“Well, aren’t you Mister Popular?” she joked as a sort of greeting. 

“Tch,” Levi hated it. He had hated the attention since day one. At least in military departments and the town close by the Scout facility, people already knew him or were too busy working to pay him too much mind. “I can hardly tolerate people on a regular basis, less when they get too excited to scream my name in my face.” 

They returned to their leisurely stroll around the place, but she giggled. “Is that the reason you never attended any military parties? The lack of anonymity or the extra-friendly people?” 

“Both, and everybody being fucking sweaty,” Levi spat out as they walked side by side. 

“That explains why each time I asked Erwin to introduce us, he said you didn’t come.” 

Levi had a hard time disguising the rush of excitement he felt upon hearing that she had been interested in knowing him before. 'That's something you could have mentioned, Erwin.' 

'Alright, alright. Play it cool, don’t act desperate.' 

“Ah, is that so?” 

'Yes, like that. See that you’ve got it in you, asshole? Smooth.' 

“Oh, well, when your friend is the Commander of the Scouts, you want to get the upper hand by meeting humanity's strongest soldier,” she commented, and Levi couldn’t help but smirk. 

They were momentarily bumped by someone, and his hand moved instinctively to the small of her back, protectively, as they squeezed through the crowd. 

“So, you agreed to go on a date with me because I’m humanity's strongest?” Levi joked. 

“I mean... not every day you’re invited out by a man people say is worth an entire army. I’m just a curious girl; I’ve got to test it out myself.” 

'Holy—' 

The subtle blush on her face, the cheeky smile with a hint of red, and the batting eyelashes as she looked back at him with feigned innocence. 

'Shit.' 

There was something so stupidly prideful and primitive about it that his rational side insisted he should be a bit offended. But another voice argued that, as Erwin had mentioned, if being humanity's strongest soldier didn’t give you an upper hand with a girl, then what's the point? Another part of him thought, 'I’ll gladly show you how much I’m a man worth an entire army... I just hope you’re curious in my bedroom too.' 

A sarcastic scoff left his lips, barely containing a prideful smile. Biting the inside of his cheeks to suppress it, he watched her. She looked gorgeous in the dress she had chosen, and she seemed to be having fun. And other military members' excitement to greet her only to stop midway and frowning at seeing Levi by her side, muttering under their breath was only adding to his happiness.  

“Then why did you offer your friend?” Levi asked. 'If you wanted to meet me and would have said yes if I invited you out, why the hell did you ask if I was interested in your friend?' 

She, who was looking at some expensive porcelain silverware on display, turned around confused. “Oh...” Then she began to chuckle. “I thought you really couldn’t stand me, so when my friend asked, I didn’t think much of it.” 

“Let’s go and look at those,” she quickly changed the subject, tugging his sweater while pointing. But Levi was lost in his own confusion. 'Huh?' 

“What do you mean by that? We interacted a bunch of times,” Levi insisted, as her perception of the previous months seemed too distant from his. 

She returned the confused look. “Because... every time I got close by to greet Erwin, you would look at me as if you hated that I was doing that.” 

'I mean... I hated that you were there to greet him and not me.' 

“Every time I was around, you rarely talked or said more than a few bitter words... Erwin mentioned that was just you, but I thought your face really implied that you simply couldn’t tolerate me.” 

“No...” Levi muttered, defeated. “That’s just the face I was born with.” 

An elongated hum of understanding was her response. “I see,” she replied, then chuckled. “A severe case of resting bitch face.” 

“I fear,” Levi said, less enthusiastic. But as she admired the tea sets, Levi looked at his own reflection in the showcase’s glass. 'That’s who has been ruining everything from the beginning.' 

“I like the navy blue with gold trim,” she said, paying particular attention to a set. Bending to have it more at her eye level and admire the decorations up close, she then turned back to him and straightened up. “Sorry, we can go and watch something you enjoy.” 

Levi shook his head. “I like this. I like the blue set more too. I think it was a gift for the previous queen.” 

“Ah yes, it was! You... know about tea sets?” 

“A bit... yeah.” 

Levi saw it, how her usual friendly, attentive smile or perhaps her previous cheeky smirk grew different as her eyes shone with a particular interest and tenderness. The conversation slowly but surely began to flow more between them, but as time went on, he grew nervous, debating between understanding that they were just getting to know each other and the imperative need to secure a success. 

“Well, here we are,” she informed as she looked at the building her friends and she shared a flat. He had insisted on walking her because it was too dark. The little swing in her movements followed by her dress, she bit her lip as her fingers played with her keys. 

'Should I say something?... No, when I talk, I fuck it up.' 

So he just nodded. 

“I... I had fun today,” she softly added, nodding her head. 

Levi looked at her with excitement, but unsure of what to do. “Yeah, me too.” Each word was pronounced with the patience of both of them not knowing how to fill the silence, but neither waving a goodbye. 

“So... I wouldn’t mind another invitation,” she subtly tilted her head. “But give me more time to get ready next time.” 

Levi went from hardly containing his excitement to confusion. 

“I mean, if people are going to stop us in the street, at least I want to look pretty, maybe a new dress.” 

“You already look pretty,” he tried to set aside any second thought and say what just came to his mind, or at least what he had been thinking all day. The shyness on her features, the girlish smile with blushed cheeks, was one hundred percent worth looking like a fool in front of an apartment complex. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and as usual, she got closer to say goodbye, but this time she truly kissed him on the cheek. Not a cheek-against-cheek or a fake sound, but a real kiss. Hand on his shoulder and her lips doing a quick peck closer to the corner of his lips. “See ya, Captain.” 

The little rush up the stairs to the front door made him smile as he admired her back. 

— 

“Not gonna lie... I was expecting a full kiss.” 

Hange laughed while spinning on one of the extra chairs in front of Levi’s desk. “Capital girls are very ladylike; you were expecting too much.” 

Levi clicked his tongue. “A very small part of me really hoped for a miracle and her inviting me in.” 

The brunette shook their head, faking disappointment. “Men and their dicks, always hoping to get laid.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You were fucking right that night,” he said, defeated, catching Hange’s attention. “I’ll have to do a lot of talking to get her...” 

“Ah well yeah, obviously—” 

“And be sociable... I’ve to plan another thing all over again,” he said, resting his head on his desk. “I already greeted more people today than I did in my entire life.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[logansbaby]

FIX YOU - LOGAN HOWLETT

❥ summary: Logan Howlett is dying. You both know it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

word count: 1.7k

pairings: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ NSFW, MDNI, angst!!!! so much angst, mentions of death, foreshadowing the events of ‘Logan’, smut, piv (unprotected— be smart irl), feelings, sadness

❥ a/n: guys!!!!!! i was listening to fix you by coldplay (highly recommend whilst reading) and it screams oldman logan and pain! this is literally just angst and smut but i hope you enjoy anyway <3

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

MAROON blood tinged the white dress shirt Logan wore, groans of agony falling from his frown as he stumbled into the makeshift house.

The sound of heavy steps startled you from your position on the couch, and despite your drowsy state, you tossed the unread book and dashed to see him. Anxiety tingled your fingertips, anguish swirling within your belly at what you might find.

You were right to feel anxious, because the sight of Logan caused your breath to hitch, chest to heave, and your lashes to glisten.

“Oh, Logan.” It was merely a whisper, yet he’d heard it all the same. It was an ironic joke that his healing was almost gone, but his hearing was as good as it had been years prior. “Logan.”

It seemed his name was all you could manage, your throat choked up in feelings you desperately tried to push down, along with the pesky, salty tears.

The once crisp, white shirt was soaked with blood, bullet holes littering from his chest to his navel. The crimson liquid had dried long ago but you knew he ached. You could see it in the way his clenched fingers shook, in the way exhaustion draped over his features. The man before you was a ghost of the man you’d met so long ago and the realization had unwanted emotions clawing at your throat, begging to be let out.

Before he could open his mouth, you ran into him and wrapped yourself around his middle tight, your grip not unlike that of a koala on a branch.

Logan hissed, new painful sensations blossoming where you gripped him, but he ignored it in favor of returning the embrace. One arm came around the curve of your waist as the other held the back of your head gently, like you were made of glass.

Maybe you were.

“It’s okay, baby.” He whispered, lips pressed against your forehead. “I’m okay. I’ll heal.”

It wasn’t, he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t— something you both knew.

You’d never tell him this, but each time he left, fear gripped you tightly. Before any of this, you knew he’d always return home to you, alive and completely unscathed. But times had changed, and for the worse, it seemed. You noticed before he did, that his healing had begun to slow down, and it scared you horribly.

He’d refuse to talk about what it meant, instead choosing to ignore reality in true Logan fashion, but you knew. You both knew that he was on borrowed time, and you knew one of these days his regeneration would dry up and he wouldn’t get back up.

One day, you’d have to walk the earth without the love of your life by your side and the very thought made you fucking ill, threatened to bring you to your knees and release the trapped agony.

Your heart picked up, beating vigorously against your ribcage, causing Logan’s bruised mouth to frown. He pulled back, hands moving to cradle your face as he looked into unfocused, hazy eyes.

“Hey— can hear you overthinkin’, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m here, I’m here.” He muttered, the gruffness of his voice leading you back to the present. “There she is.”

“It’s not, you’re hurt. You’re bleeding and I— what even happened?” With your brows furrowed, questions spilled from your bitten lips without thought. “And don’t lie to me.”

He sighed.

“Just had a run in with some bad guys, that’s it.”

“Logan—“

“Should see the other guys, baby.” He joked, the need to ease the tension bubbling in the air was overwhelming. He was desperate to lessen the worry blanketing your face. He hated that you rarely smiled anymore.

When you let out a wet laugh, he knew he’d succeeded, despite the unshed sadness dusting your eyes.

For a moment, you just stared at him, eyes wide as they traced every inch of his face, as if to savor Logan’s face to memory. Then, you leant up and pressed sweet, soft kisses wherever you could reach— his neck, chest, chin, and bottom lip.

Even after all the years you’d been together, butterflies danced around wildly in his stomach at your touch.

“C’mere.” He was already trailing beside you because the taut grip you had on his hand refused to leave him behind. “Let me clean you up.”

And despite the throbbing of his bones, he followed you, because of course he did. If he hadn’t had you, he would’ve been two whisky bottles in by now, and the blood would’ve stayed crusted on his skin as he fell asleep. You never let him spiral, though, and you refused to have him do so now. He’d never said thank you for that, but he hoped you felt it in his kiss, in the way he held you.

Logan was pushed onto the couch then, his thoughts melting away as your hands gently pressed him until his body folded on the cushion. You disappeared for a moment, before returning with the necessary products to clean his wounds.

Instead of sitting beside him, which would’ve been more practical, you plopped yourself onto his lap. When he groaned at the sudden weight, you smiled sheepishly through hooded eyes.

“Sorry, just want to be close to you.” It was mumbled, just loud enough to be heard and you knew it was understood when a tiny smirk graced Logan’s lips.

“Don’t mind, princess.” His amusement grew and spread into a full-on smile at the way your face grew rosy. He always did like riling you up, no matter the situation.

Wordlessly, you got to work; unbuttoning his ruined shirt and tossing the bloodied fabric to the floor mindlessly. With a warm rag, you began wiping away the reminders of a fight. Logan let out a couple groans as your fingers prodded at some deeper wounds, urging out the bullet casings until they plopped on the sofa. His body had stopped any massive injuries from forming, but he still wore the aftermath of his attackers.

Logan lost track of time as he opted to stare at you; he’d rather not think about how his body continued to fail him anymore.

From the strands of your hair framing your flushed face, to the plushness of your lips, of which were taken hostage between your teeth in concentration, he admired you. You were so, so beautiful, so angelic, that it shook him, even after all this time.

He hoped that when his body failed him for the last time, when he sucked in his last breath of oxygen, you were the last thing he saw.

“Done! Good as new.” Though your words were teasing, your tone was anything but. Your eyes were somber, filled with so much emotion it devastated you. The reflection of his own powerful feelings mirroring yours comforted you.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, handsome.”

For a while, the both of you stared at each other in a heavy silence. Both sets of eyes were tracing every detail before them, to ensure nothing was missed when he was finally gone, but none of you were brave enough to say so. The unspoken heaviness threatened to crush you both with the weight of it all.

And then— you’re unsure how it happened, who leant in first. All you knew is that the overwhelming, crushing need to be as close as possible to one another, in every way possible, suddenly became the most important thing in the world.

The minute your lips met, everything else faded to static. It was slow at first, gentle as you both savored the feel, before it was an abrupt burst of passion.

Your hands wrapped around his neck tightly, fingers playing with the graying hairs at his neck, yanking when his tongue slipped past slick, swollen lips. Logan’s hands gripped your hips possessively, and as your tongues danced together in a familiar rhythm, he began to drag you up and down across his lap.

It was dirty— the messy drag of lips, the spit connecting as you broke apart to gather oxygen into your lungs, the grinding of your clothed, sobbing cunt across his throbbing cock. It was so dirty yet filled with so much emotion, so much adoration and love.

It wasn’t long before he had you filled to the brim, full of him. Once you’d started bouncing up and down on him, drunk on how fucking good he felt, the tears spilled over the apples of your cheeks.

Maybe it was the sheer pleasure zipping through you, the lick of heat teasing your lower belly. Or perhaps it was the fact that you were reminded that everything with Logan was fleeting. The reason didn’t matter, not when you slumped against his chest and sobbed his name desperately, hips now moving in a slow grind across his lap.

“Logan— love you so, so much,” you cried out, the words mumbled against his sweaty chest.

“My pretty girl,” Logan spoke knowingly, hands going to the supple thighs and fucking you up and down on his cock once more. “I got you, I always have you.”

The mixture of euphoria with his words, a double meaning laced between them, had a loud moan tumbling from your mouth, hips jerking at the feel of your puffy clit bumping the hair smattered at the base of him. Every sensation flowing through you was heightened and when Logan thrusted up into your weepy pussy, you clenched around him so tight, he growled. The movement sent you both reeling, orgasms crowding your senses with the intensity of it all.

Logan kissed you then, thrusting his come into you as deep as he could. Your whine was swallowed by his mouth, so full of him in a way that made your heart swell, chest tingle bittersweet. Whispers of ‘I love you’ melted into the embrace of your lips, and all the pressing emotions and fears came hurtling back down full force.

Neither of you moved, content to stay connected, even as his cock softened inside you, as the mixture of your releases pooled on sticky, sweat-slicked skin. Your body wrapped around his, hands tickling the scarred skin of his back as his lips peppered wet kisses across the expanse of your neck.

It hit you once more that Logan was your everything and you wanted to cry.

So, you did. Water spilled down your face and onto his chest as you cried. Logan spoke mantras of ‘Shh, it’s okay’ and ‘I’m here, I love you’ as you let your tears go, even as his own eyes were wet with sorrow.

You both knew it was anything but okay. It was only a matter of time.

[sparklingblu]

Inferior Activities

Lia x M Reader

"How's the salad?"

"Oh, it's great" you answer as you try not to grimace after swallowing the lettuce that taste no different from paper.

"I made few twists to the dressing, you know. A family secret" The bald man winks as he takes another bite of the potato that would have turned to coal if it have been roasted a minute more.

Studying the plates of green laid out all across the table, you make a firm decision never to become a vegan. At least not if your father in law is gonna be your chef. Lia has warned his cooking skills are terrible but you didn't expect it to be this awful. The only tolerable content of the table seems to be the so-called vegan meat and even that's starting to taste lesser and lesser like meat with each bite. No offense to all those animal loving vegans out there but they really are missing out a lot in their life. You wouldn't have lasted a day if you have to survive without meat.

Your eye flicker up to Lia, seated across, to see if she's on the same page with you on the matter. She lazily plops a broccoli into her mouth, her eyes betraying no signs of disappointment. The corner of her lips twitch in a thin smile as if to mock your suffering. She looks contented even.

In the end, you only have yourself to blame. When Lia suggestsled you visits her dad on the weekends, you agreed with a simple nod. Sure, it's your first time meeting her old man but what could go wrong? Right?

Except that everything does. As soon as you enter the house, the first thing the dude asked you was your opinion on wildlife conservation. At first you thought he was joking then you find out he's actually very serious about the matter. Weather talk would have been a good starter. Seriously, who starts a conversation like that?

Then after seeing the dishes he has prepared, you find out making conversation is the least of your worries. He's your father in law and you have respect for him and all but this dude is horrible at being a vegan. If he calls his mushroom soup which tastes more like mushroom-flavored dishwater 'a masterpiece', you might as well consider becoming a chef. Who knows? Maybe you will even get a couple michelin stars.

You are thinking of a way to escape this organic hell and the constant ear rape about how billions of animals are killed per year for human consumption when Lia finally comes to your aid.

"Dad, we are nearly done. Why don't you go make your signature smoothie? I haven't got the chance to taste it since I left for college" she suggests and the old man's eyes twinkle with maddening joy.

"Oh, of course! How could I forget that? It was your mother's favorite" his tone turns solemn at the mention of his late wife but you are too focused on the idea of finally getting some breathing room to care. "Two smoothies. Coming right up! You will absolutely love it" He winks at you again and leaves the table.

You drop your utensils and exhale in relief. "Finally. I was gonna turn into stone if I hear one more second of his animal talk"

Lia chuckles. "I get used to it after living with him for 18 years. He's actually a really sweeet guy. He just tries to focus on something else after my mom passed, I guess"

If the fact is supposed to make you feel sorry, it doesn't work. But you are not gonna tell her that. "How do you survive with this kind of food all these years?"

"It wasn't always that bad" Belle protests. "And sometimes he even cooks meat. But his skills get rusty with old age"

"Yep, I'm never becoming a vegan"

Lia pouts in annoyance. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad"

"Suits yourself"

"You just hate vegetables in general"

You roll your eyes in feigned annoyance. "Look, who's trying to follow her father's steps"

"Whatever" Lia finally gives up, pushing up her glasses from her nose. "I'm still hungry you know...."

"Maybe we can go to McDonald's or something later"

"No, daddy" Lia's voice turns low and sultry. "You know exactly what I want"

You look around in a panic to see if her dad has overheard your conversation. Thankfully, the guy's busy cutting carrots on the kitchen counter.

"Lia, I told you not to call me that in public. Especially not when your literal dad is right here" you warned, though you can't deny the fact that hearing her call you the name get your blood flowing backwards.

"Oh, come on, daddyyyyy" she pushes on, stressing the last word to make it sound even more fervorous. "I know you secretly love it"

"Look, babe. I love the name but this isn't the right place. Seriously, your dad's right there"

"So what?" Lia puts her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her palms. "Don't you enjoy a little risk?"

"Come on, babe. Not right now. I will make it up to you when you come back"

"But I want it now" Lia whines, the pout reforming on her lips. "Need to taste daddy's big cock. Need it shove down my throat"

"Lia...." you hiss, becoming aware of her tone, increasing by the second.

"Daddy pleaseee" she gives you those bambi eyes she knows you can't resist. "Let me suck your huge cock. I need you to fill up my mouth with your hot cum. I have been a good girl, haven't I? I deserve my reward" Lia runs her tongue along her top lips to punctuate her wish.

With the way her words get your asleep mamba waking up, you already know you are fighting a losing battle but you still need to be the one in charge here. "Alright, fine. But-"

"Oops. I drop my spoon" The metal hits the floor with a loud clang and Lia immediately dives down the table. It's an overused trope. You have seen it in hundreds of porn videos and you are no stranger to it. But you have never thought you would be in a similar situation and this time, the risk is very real. Her dad is not a paid actor who would pretend to be oblivious at the scene which would soon unfold.

"Is everything ok?" Lia's dad shouts from the kitchen counter, now washing.....are those eggplants?

"Yes, mister! We are gold!" You replies, hoping he would stay focused on his veggies.

You look down and find Lia already kneeled between your legs, a flicker of amusement in her eyes behind those glasses. Her lips curve into an impish smile. "Just stay still and let me do all the work, daddy" she whispers, her hands already working on your zipper. With one swift pull, she opens it up, revealing your red underwear underneath. "Oh, daddy's wearing my favorite colour today" Lia muses as she grabs your cock over the thin fabric, her thumb tracing slow circles. "Daddy, you are already so hard"

As much as you want to prolong this pornographic session, her dad is not going to be in the kitchen forever and you don't want to give him a heart attack. "Babe, enough teasing. Make it quick" you warn and her thumb rests on your head, pressing down on that sensitive spot she only knows. You let out a half-formed moan, not daring to be loud.

"You know the magic word, daddy. No need to be so formal" she presses again and you grit your teeth.

"Start sucking my cock, you slut" you calls her by her favorite nickname, which intsantly gets her engines revving.

"Yes, daddy" she release her grip, pulling down your underwear. Your rock hard cock springs out in a flash, hitting her spectacles. "Someone's eager" Lia chuckles, placing her brown locks behind her back, preparing for the main course. Her left hand close around your base, pumping it up and down in an agonizingly slow pace. She looks at your cock like it's something glorious, something she should be worshipping. But that's not so far from the truth. If this slut wants to choke on your cock, you are gonna permit it happily.

"Daddy, you are so big" Lia mutters dreamily, her free hand fondling your balls each at a time. The combination gets your mind cloudy, basking in the pleasure you nearly forget the whole point of this.

"I don't see you sucking my cock?" Lia stops her movements at your words and you nearly reget telling her to stop. But that doesn't last long because Lia instantly starts obliging to your command.

"Patience, daddy" With that, her rosy lips seal around your tip, taking you partly into the warmth of her mouth. Meanwhile, her hands grab your shaft, working in unison with each drag of her lips. The twist of her fingers along with her tongue that swirls around your slit gets you throwing your head back, letting out a graon. Then you quickly recompose not to expose yourself.

Lia doesn't seem to be bothered. Getting caught seems to be the last thing on your mind as she slurps on your head with fevorous vigour. Like it's the most delicous lollipop she has ever tasted. Her tongue gathers up any pre cum that leaks from your slit, taking it straight down to her stomach. She would takes anything your cock has to offer.

Every moment or so, you would check on her dad, making sure the guy's still busy brewing his organic potion which contents are starting to get weirder. But as long as he's busy, you don't care what he's putting into that blender. It's the best for him and you. You doubt the old man would be as merciful to you as he is to wildlife if he finds out his daughter is giving you head under his table.

But the task proves to be harder because Lia's dad would throw you ocassional glances and you have to put on this stupid grin everytime, which is not so easy with how Lia's sucking you off. Now she has taken half your cock into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed with unfathomable suction. Her hair sways with every bob of her head, forming silky waves of hazel. All the while, she keeps her eyes on you behind those circular frames, those pools of black seems to be asking if she's doing a good job.

"God, Lia....just like that" you grip the edge of the table to compensate for not being able to rejoice in the bliss of Lia's wet hole freely. Your head darting up and down as you keep watch on her father as well as enjoy the view between your legs.

Your shaft is now ringed with red as Lia leaves tarces of her lipstick mixed with her saliva while her lips glide smoothly along your cock, making it a red wet mess. Not like you mind. She can keeps messing it up all she wants.

Her tongue action doesn't waver either, licking up any available part but escpecially under your tip to tackle your weak spot each time she takes you in. To add icing on the cake, she has her left hand wrapped around your base to pump the lengths unattended by her mouth, not leaving out any throbbing vein.

You are helpless against her attack, the only action from your side to keeps grabbing the tablecloth into an unshapely tangle. And even that's starting to fail at holding back your moans.

A loud whirring sound fills up the place as Lia's dad starts brewing all those green stuffs in the blender. He gives you a thumbs up and you smile back, shammming excitement. The sound of the blender blades reminding you of the disguisting smoothie you will soon have to drink.

However, Lia takes advantage of the noise by taking your whole length down on her throat, the loud gagging sound lost in the echoes of spinning blades. You take the chance to make any audible sound that would let you express your euphoria. A moan. Then two. Then a couple more. It no longer seems to be ending as Lia devour your cock like a hungry animal, hitting the back of her throat each time she deeothroats.

Drops of saliva litters the ground. The evidences of Lia's godly work. Gags after gags escape her mouth in rhythm with your moans. However, escape won't be suitable here with the way your cock is blocking her airway. But that isn't a problem because she would choose your dick over oxygen.

The blender keeps whirring and Lia keeps choking on your cock. Her glasses now tilted at a strange angle from the force of her movement, the temple hanging on one ear only. Currently, her vision isn't as important as the taste of your dick on her tongue.

Lia finally pulls back, trails of saliva running from your tip to her lips. A waterfall of saliva staining her white shirt. Her tongue rolled out and her temples dripping with sweat.

"Daddy....am I...good?" she pants like a bitch in heat, all her lipsticks all gone.

"Very. But you gotta finish what you start my little slut"

"Yes, daddy. Feed me your thick cum. I want it all"

"Then come and take it"

Lia dives back on your cock, immeditaely swallowing your whole length. You groans out at the burst of pleasure, her throat constricted around your shaft. Lia holds her position, her nose pressed to your pelvis for a few moment before pulling back, just to start fucking her throat on your cock again and again.

The sound of the blender stops and you hear the clink of glasses. Turning your head, you find Lia's dad pouring the green liquid into two glasses. It would only be a few minutes before he comes back.

Lia seems to realize to because her lips form an airtight seal around your head and her hands satrt pumping your shaft furiously. Using all your willpower to hold out from finishing earlier leaves no strength left to withstand Lia's final assault. Your cock starts throbbing and soon you are spilling your cum into her mouth. Some reaching her tongue, the other flowing straight down her throat. Lia's fingers keep twisting back and forth and you empty the last drops of your protein rich fluid into her welcoming hole.

You close your eyes, breathing hard. The relief is instant as much as the build up is agonizingly blissful. Lia releases your cock with a pop and lick up the remnants of cum on the tip. You are too lost in the euphporic finale you totally forget the perilous situation you are in. When you realize, it's too late.

Lia's dad is near the table, two glasses of the green smoothie in his hands. His face is a mixture of shock and distress as he stands rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her daughter's face a few centimeters away from your spent cock. His mouth opens but before he can speak, Lia chimes in.

"Thanks for the meal daddy. But I don't think I'm going to need the smoothie. I already have dessert"

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