#▲; side quests ( drabbles )

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Patience Worn Thin

Warnings: suggestions of cheating, Lloyd being a pervert, mentions of injury.

“I told you to hold the ladder,” you hiss as you slump in the plastic chair, cradling your limp right arm.

“I was holding it!”

“You weren’t, I looked down and you were twirling that stupid mustache–”

“Why were you looking down? Maybe that’s why you fell–”

“Goddamn it!” You snarl at both his stupidity and the agony tearing at your muscles, “it’s definitely dislocated.”

“How would you know? It’s probably just a sprain and you’re being a big baby.”

You sneer, gnashing your teeth as your eyes threaten to roll back. The waiting room seats are less than hospitable to your injury and the wait times are even less amenable. Nothing about this situation is pleasant but especially not the man next to you.

That man your sister made the poor choice of marrying. The one you warned her about. The one you were left at your parents’ house with in some twist of fate.

“I’m the baby, sure,” you scoff.

“Trust me, I’ve had a dislocated shoulder. You’d be passed out if it was that bad–”

“Maybe I just have higher pain tolerance,” you grit out, “putting up with you, I’d think so–”

He touch your shoulder, “trust me, if it was–”

The sheer pain from just a simple poke has a wave of nausea coursing through you. You shriek and cover your mouth, retching as you fight your insides. Your eyes tinge hotly as you lean away from him.

“Jesus, don’t gotta be so damn dramatic,” he sneers at you.

You pant into your palm, swallowing back the swell of bile. You sit up as straight as you can and whimper. You drop your hand and glare at him, “don’t touch me.”

“Relax, I was just testing it,” he rolls his eyes.

“You really are an idiot,” you snip, “I don’t know how she puts up with you–”

“Maybe if you got good dick, you’d know why,” he shoots back.

Your mouth falls open, “as if–”

“You definitely don’t given how tight that ass is,” he retorts.

“You’re nasty.”

“I can be,” he snickers, “you know…” he sits back and taps his chin as he scrunches his lips thoughtfully, “I always kinda wanted to try the sister thing.”

“Ew, don’t even,” you recoil, “that’s absolutely disgusting.”

He only laughs more as you turn your face away. You have never met someone more repugnant than him. You can’t believe Vanessa could ever settle for him. 

“So… do you flick the bean with the right hand or can you still manage with the left–”

“Stop.”

“I’m only asking cause the recovery time is gonna be torturous if you can’t even rub the tension out–”

“Is this appropriate to be chatting about with your sister-in-law–”

“Hey, we're not related by blood,” he insists defensively.

“Why don’t you go? I can handle this by myself.”

“Are you kidding me? Nessie won’t let me get it in if I abandon her favourite sister at the hospital and seeing as you’re saying no?” He arches a brow at you, tilting his head coyly. You glare and he grins again, “right, that’s a no, so I gotta keep in her good books.”

“If you insist on staying, please do me a favour and stop talking.”

He pushes his lips together and nods, sitting back as his forehead lines. He’s thinking. That’s never good.

“You know, there’s a lot more fun things I can do with this mouth–”

“Alright,” you stand up and charge over to the nurses window, hissing as you hold your arm, “I’m sorry to bother, did you say it’s three hours?”

“For urgent cases, ma’am,” the nurse answers without looking up.

“Okay, well, my shoulder is hanging out of the socket–”

“You’re a level yellow. Sit down, it’ll be a while,” she dismisses you curtly. 

You huff and glance behind you. Lloyd watches you, fluttering his fingers over the bristle above his lip. Reluctantly you go back to him, swiping a magazine from the table before you sit. You balance it on your lap and flip the cover.

“You know, this is a good opportunity for us,” he chimes, “we can really get to know each other. Me and you, sis.”

“I’m reading,” you snarl.

He snorts and stretches his arm out on the back of your seat, squeezing it between you and the wall. You growl as it tweaks your shoulder, “I could be a real asshole, you know, but I’m here, waiting with you. Like a good guy. You can tell Nessie all about it, get me some points.”

“Oh, I can?”

“Sure, I mean, she always says how you’re so jealous of her,” he slithers, “she won’t believe a damn word of the truth.”

“What?” You snap and look at him, “I’m not jealous–”

“Eh, you could’ve fooled me,” he taunts, “and you go tattling to her, she’ll think you’re tryna sabotage her. Just like you always do.”

“I don’t–”

“She’s my wife, sweetheart, she tells me everything,” he tickles along your uninjured shoulder, “especially after we–”

“Look, I don’t need a headache and a dislocated shoulder, so please, enough.”

He chuckles and squeezes your shoulder, leaning in until you wince, “if I get her from just the right angle, she looks just like you…” he sneers, “maybe tonight, I’ll turn her around and think of you.”

You gasp, repulsed to your core. You snarl at the magazine, trying to focus on the words as you block him out. The more you react, the more he gives. 

“And the next time you touch yourself, you can pretend you're soaking my mustache,” he whispers.

Your skin burns as you turn the page, biting down on a snappy retort. As painful as your shoulder is, it’s not half as agonizing as his company.

[mskenway97]

From a side mission in xenoblade chronicles 2 has given me a small idea.

You are an explorer who time and time again tries to find an object but that object belongs to a big bot.

The big bot won't give it to you, quickly but admires your attempts even though it always ends in lack of experience, stumbles down some hole.

You refuse to give up until one day you finally fight that bot.

Although you had improved, it would never be enough to defeat him and you ended up wounded, you thought he was going to finish you off but in any case the big bot took you close to his chest, to his spark...

You tried to move but you couldn't move anymore and for once in a long time you felt calm.

Maybe you will get the object by gaining his trust.

On the side of the big bot, you would have someone to entertain and talk to for all these years.

Maybe the beginning of something new

[shokogast]

brian david gilbert rehka shankar ally beardsley alex song-xia izzy roland zac oyama table. i don't know what they'd do this is just a personal dream for me specifically

[aidanchaser]

Hi there! If you’re still doing the Spotify requests (and you don’t mind doing more Jily)… 72?

Yay! I am always happy to do more Jily, particularly since the first request gave me a good prompt for pre-war Jily, and this one...

Are you, are you Coming to the tree? Strung up a man they say who murdered three Strange things did happen here; no stranger would it be If we met at midnight in the hanging tree

Lily stepped away and stumbled, like her legs might give, but she ignored his hand and steadied herself on the kitchen counter.

"Meadowes was my friend, too," James murmured.

"You don't--" Lily's voice and body trembled. "She's dead because she's like me. You can't know how that feels."

James swallowed down the injury and grief of the accusation.

He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her against his chest. "I don't, but I'll fight and die with you just the same."

Another choked, dry sob strangled itself in Lily's throat. Harry, still asleep in his cot, began to fuss.

Are you, are you Coming to the tree --The Hanging Tree, Angus and Julia Stone

[h-didanart]

So, they were lost.

Probably?

Maybe.

Yeah, they were lost… Probably.

Hunter stared at the people walking by and at the buildings.

They were not anywhere near a town last they remembered. Then again they did kinda play tag a couple minutes ago. But then again he was pretty sure they had just been going in circles around the campsite. But but then again—

“We are lost, end of story,” Harvest cut through his thoughts and doubts, “but believe me I understand your worry,” she nuzzled against his faceplate.

Hunted grumbled, glaring at the building right in front of the bush they were hiding at.

They didn’t even know which town this was! None of the buildings were familiar, and its location in the forest just didn’t make and damn sense! None of it made sense!

He hid his face in his hands as he whined. Harvest sighed in sympathy, snake form coiling around his scarf in comfort.

It was a few more minutes of back and forth reassurances before Bloodmoon left the bush. They’d need to find a map and from there estimate the distance to their camp.

Easy.

Easy.

Town maps were easy to spot, it wouldn’t take them— Hunter stopped walking.

He was staring at a building. It was a store, and the store had a window, and the window had shiny rocks.

Both twins stared at the rocks, looking at all the pretty colors that they had. Purples, and oranges, and browns, and- ew- green, and red… so many reds… He looked at the reds, capturated by the prettiness.

And was startled when they bonked their head against the glass. Stupid glass. They should break it. No wait, they were banned from breaking glass for a week. Wait didn’t they need to do something first anyways?

Harvest cut through his thoughts again, helpful as always, “Find the town map, locate this odd trap”

“Yes,” Hunter nodded, looking down at his hands, “map, find,” he nodded in determination, “got it!”

And so they turned to run in a random direction, looking down alleys and dodging the people around.

It didn’t take long for them to come to halt again, however; though this time at Harvest’s petition.

Hunter looked down at her, confusedly watching her slither out of his hood and shift to her form that looked like him.

She stared down a side street before looking at him, “do you smell that?”

He tilted his head, sniffing at the air, it smelled slightly like food.

“It smells like food,” they crossed their arms. Harvest took ahold of their shoulders.

“Not just any food, but sugary treats”

Ohhhh, candy?

The younger nodded, “only candy smells as good,” they shook him slightly, “we can indulge in… uh,” they frowned trying to think of how to rhyme, they shook their head after a moment, “eat sugar, let’s go!”

Well… hmm, candy did sound good at the moment, and Father wasn’t around to scold them for going against their current punishment.

Hunter looked back at Harvest who was humming eagerly and looking at him with a smile.

Eh, screw it. They weren’t in a rush, besides he too missed the taste of sugar in his systems.

He smiled back at his twin, whose expression brightened even more.

They both ran down the side street, giggling mischievously. This was gonna be fun.

[tenuuchlegch]

         The morning sun was peaking over horizon line, as F’lhaminn poured out her heart to Warburton and Minfilia... or what remained of them. Skies turning a pinkish color over camp Drybone, a falcon cried overhead with wings spread wide soaring into unknown territories. The crystalized aether from shard of Dalamud also began gleaming in the distance, like fire being ignited. How ironic, that the atmosphere would display as such a tranquil scene befitting the one two women were honoring. Truly, it was as if Hydaelyn herself had gone out of her way to ensure this moment’s absolute serenity. Au ra was certain the former leader of Scions would have very much enjoyed it.  

         While Odtsetseg could not boast of knowing the hyur on a level other Scions did, when miqo’te approached her regarding letter which involved group’s former leader she was compelled to escort retired songstress. This was not completely for her sake, but so they both could receive some closure regarding their now long departed friend and kin. Minfilia... or rather Ascilia was a good woman, whose munificence and compassion towards her fellow man inspired or spurred others forward. Xaela would know, for she was one of them. Yet despite all the good that she accomplished, warrior of light’s fellow Echo user never got a proper burial, for there was no body to be found. It was a shame, that none of them had gotten around to doing so until now. She was a light in the darkness, who ignited the flame others may shoulder after all. 

        Odtsetseg hoped she would be one day worthy of such steadfast faith.

         F’lhaminn’s query of what she would say, snapped xaela out from her thoughts. Blinking, typically laconic adventurer briefly found herself at a loss for words. In truth, a part of Odtsetseg half expected miqo’te to simply say her piece, thank au ra then leave. That is what sometimes occurred, amidst circumstances such as this one. Besides what could she, someone who was only a brief part of Minfilia’s life possibly have to say which was not uttered already? But auri had to say her piece, didn’t she? Even if their time together was short, she worked in close liaison with the blond-haired woman. It would be wrong, to maintain her silence now. Additionally, there was a lot left unsaid. 

         Turning to the grave fully after a moment, Odtsetseg breathed in, placed one knee on ground and spoke. 

         “Hello, Minfilia... or should I call you Ascilia now? Whatever the case, I think I will go with the former, if you do not mind.” There came a pause, as eyes closed and head lowered in a shamed fashion. “I never got the chance to tell you this, but when I came to you and the Scions... I had nothing. I had lost my home- my tribe. All the traditions I grew up with were squashed, then scatted to the four winds and every member of my family was either gone or lost touch with me long ago. Needless to say, it would be no exaggeration that I was lost, bitter and... broken. I helped people yes, but I cannot claim that it was from a pure desire such as yours. To be frank, I cared very little for people- I was terrified to. It lead to attachment, I surmised and attachment would only lead towards heartache.” A sigh escaped lungs, as she lifted hues to look upon the grave again; soft smile returning.

          “Yet, in spite of my stubbornness you and the others still kept me by your sides. You treated me as one of your own, despite our very different backgrounds and the fact that our cultures often clashed with one another. Though I did not see it at first, I now am aware that you and the others became like family to me, through our journey. ... Apologies for trying to start our friendship out with a blood pact, by the way. I realize now that was plausibly quite intense to witness.” A noise which hinted at surprise was heard behind her (likely from F’lhaminn), but Odtsetseg paid no mind to it and continued.

         “Either way, I can assure you that your legacy will live on. I may not be the warrior of light you were acquainted with all those years ago, but... let there be no doubt that I will make strides to be the person you believed me to be. Thancred and the others will do their best too, I am certain. With that being said, I hope this gives both you and your father reassurance that you can finally rest.” 

         When all the Scions returned safely to the source, Odtsetseg would ensure that this place be made known towards them. It would not be fair of her to keep such information for herself. Besides, if they all were made aware entire group could visit her to honor the generous woman’s memory. 

[illaisland]

This is absolutely a place Mulder would pull over and check out while he and Scully are driving to one of their "middle of nowhere" cases. I can already hear it now:

"Scully, check this place out! We gotta stop and take a look." *she looks up from the map in her lap and sees the gleam in his eyes before turning to look out the window at a desolate dusty building* "Mulder, it's clearly abandoned. I doubt they have a copy of that 'Mars Attacks' movie you keep trying to get me to watch. And after being forced to watch Caddyshack, I'm not so sure I want to encourage this search." "Well, it won't hurt to stretch our legs, Scully. Take a selfie..." *mumbles* "...keep it in my secret photo album of 'embarrassing things to blackmail Scully with later'." "Huh?" "Nothing, Scully. We'll stop here and then I'll grab you a coffee and some grub when we near some semblance of civilization. Deal?" "Sure. Fine. Whatever." *she grumbles as she roughly folds up the map* "You're getting hangry...you always get hangry on these drives." *Scully swats his arm and rolls her eyes as Mulder pulls into the dusty empty parking lot* "Scully, violence is not the answer and as an officer of the law, you should know this." *Mulder places the car in park and then turns in his seat to look at her, smirking* "I need to start bringing along a pack of snoballs for you to snack on for these long drives. You're dangerous when your blood sugar dips." *Scully smirks back at him as she unbuckles her seat belt*

"I'm always dangerous. But it wouldn't hurt your chances of survival, Mulder."

[ahhvernin]

A Shoe Quest: An Adventurer's Mundane Journey to Find New Shoes

Today, I went on a shoe quest. I traveled to many a small shoe maker shops, well, some bigger than others. But found not what I was searching for. I then decided to turn my energies to the one domain of the land that causes me the greatest of strife. The Athwarted Gates of Mall. I spent several hours hopping from one store front to the next without any success and only spurring the suspicions of their shop keepers. As I drifted along the halls, a small adventurer was practicing her dungeoning skills by jumping on the tiles. She was not aware of her surroundings and was approaching me with great speed. Panicked, I leapt from my tile to another tile, following her unspoken rules of her game. Her sister, looked up brighteyed and congratulated me for NOT DYING. I cheered with relief as their mother nervously laughed. Tired and weary, I shuffled into the only reprieve I had. A relic of a bygone era, an entity who continues to stand even though its red competitor has crumbled like a wall. Despite the large sign and its brassy letters, it neither sells Barns nor do Nobles grace its interiors. Within it, the sweet smell of roasted beans waft through the book cases, and the hushed whispers of people roaming its archives. It was then I stumbled on an area meant for the small youths of Magehood. There on the endcap, laid three doodle boards. Their loops have been damaged and were no longer able to hang. And upon their magical surface there were the neon green scribbles of a curious someone. With a small tap, the previous curiosities vanished from each of the green tablets. Now, clean and translucent like gem slab, they were now ready to received whatever intangible mindful ponderings and thoughts and to transcribe it into this visible world. It was here I took a break from my long journey for footwear to pull out three images from my mind. With each pen stroke appeared an image. On one, a curly head boy, smiling with annoyance. On the second, a smiling girl happy to see someone. And on the third, a small, sad, crying sack of a non descript person lamenting about their exhaustion from "shopping". I propped each of them up on display and left. I later found another shop, and it was there I was greeted by 3 no 4 beautiful beings all gathered and seated near the door. They all turned and greeted me in unison. And as an idiot, who was caught of guard and thought I had interrupted some fae ritual, I was ready to turn heel and run. It was then one approached me to assist me. I must say, out of my 3 decades of life. I have NEVER had such a quick experience of finding shoes. This woman took my measurements, disappeared into the back, returned with 4, ONLY 4 boxes. I tried them all and the third won my favor, and I promptly paid and left a happy customer and newly equipped foot protection.

Never mind the now lighter wallet.

..:: Quest Completed ::..

[2tarbell]

KISS IT BETTER, BABY

rafe not giving you the attention you want…

(906 words. drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

“look— look. just figure it out, yeah? i told you i didn’t wanna deal with that bullshit.”

it was torture honestly.

your brow was furrowed and a seemingly permanent pout adorned your lip gloss sticky lips.

why wasn’t he paying attention to you?

rafe sat next to you on the balcony, cool breeze ruffling the white collared shirt he wore. his phone was pressed to his ear as he mumbled and bickered with someone on the other end, you assumed it was barry by the topic of conversation.

but you didn’t really give a shit what he was talking about anymore.

you’d be happy to sit and just listen to the comforting cadence of his voice, but he had hardly spared you a glance since you plopped down next to him on the wicker bench.

you suctioned yourself to his side, your rightful place, and he only patted your knee once. not even giving you a kiss in greeting.

realistically, you knew you couldn’t ever do anything to seriously upset rafe. he was obsessed with you, which only made his lack of attention sting even more.

you huffed and pressed closer to him, legs hooking over his lap as you stared at him pleadingly, skirt riding up to reveal tantalizing smooth skin. rafe only hummed and placed a large hand on your squishy thigh in an attempt to placate you.

he was more handsome today, if that was even possible. buzzed head giving focus to his sharp features. chiseled cheek bones and tan skin begging you to kiss and nip at it. your eyes traveled down to his collarbones peeking out under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.

you were just working yourself up at this point, feeling a dampness starting to soak your sweet pink cotton panties. ones you knew he loved.

at the sake of your pride, you mustered the courage pull at his shirt, steeling yourself for his reaction. he didn’t like to be interrupted.

rafe looked at you from the corner of his eye, blue irises cementing you to the cushion you sat on.

he raised a brow in question but you only pouted deeper, eyelashes fluttering.

your boyfriend simply cupped your jaw delicately, shaking your head back and forth gently once before releasing you, attention back to the conversation at hand. to anyone else, such a gesture might seem patronizing but it only made you need his attention more.

you huffed again, manicured hand bunching up the material of his shirt, yanking just a bit more. the glare rafe sent you was filled with warning, but you were too far gone in your quest.

“raaaafe,” you whined, tugging harsher.

he tongued the inside of his cheek, clearly not in any mood to deal with your attitude. but you just wouldn’t give it up, heavy sighs and pleas of his name interrupting his thoughts.

“hey— i’ll call you later.”

you just about cheered when he finally hung up the phone, but it was cut short in your throat when rafe tightly gripped your jaw, bringing your face closer to his.

his own jaw was set, tongue once again poking his cheek, “you havin’ a good time embarrassing me?”

you didn’t know what to say, your cheeks squished between his large fingers, lips puckered outward. you whined again, a pathetic sound that made rafe exhale a chuckle.

“what? nothin’ to say now, baby?”

you were pitiful, not knowing what to do with his attention now that you had it.

“nooo, i jus’—”

“stop the whining, yeah? y’know i hate that shit.”

you pouted again, pushing his arm away from you and freeing your face from his grasp. your arms folding across your chest like a petulant child.

rafe rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you closer and into his lap.

“and what’d i say about pouting? c’mon, lemme see that pretty smile.”

you leaned into him, unable to resist grinning at finally getting the physical affection you so craved. you toyed with the chain around his neck and looked up through your lashes, feeling the silver links bend and twist around your fingers.

“you ignored me,” you mumbled.

rafe smirked knowingly, cupping the back of your neck. “mmm… and that’s why you’re throwing a fuckin’ fit?”

“rafe, i’m serious—”

you frowned up at him as you protested his teasing, only to be met with his lips on yours.

the tender touch immediately caused you to melt into him, lips parting obediently under his, hands splayed across his firm chest. his tongue only teased the inside of your mouth before retreating.

rafe’s hand smoothed the hair at the nape of your neck then slid around to hold your jaw. he pulled away, not without you following after his lips.

“i ignored you, huh? ‘m sorry, sweetheart. you know i didn’t mean to. didn’t mean to make my favorite girl feel bad,” his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

you could only nod at his words, entranced by the gentle sound of his voice, a soft tone only saved for you and the intimate moments between you two. he knew how special it made you feel.

“made me so upset.” you mumbled, nudging his nose with your own.

“i know, baby, i know,” his other hand snuck down and under your skirt, knuckle teasing the lace edge of your panties, “let daddy make it up to you, yeah?”

[mothhball]

For your drabbles: Crane teaches the reader how to ride him properly.

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary don't worry, he'll teach you how he likes it

warnings SMUT!! just straight up porn. p in v sex, use of pet names (pet, good girl), light choking, edging, clothed male/naked female, dom/sub undertones, female anatomy, Jon being a "stern educator" lmao

notes Thanks for the idea! I'm still working on those other requests on the side, I promise <3 I missed writing more explicit smut tbh

! MINORS DNI !

main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 926

Shallow breaths, aching muscles. Up, down, up, down, up –

“That’s it… just like that.”

Jonathan’s voice sounds strained from underneath you, and you look down at him with hazy eyes to catch a glimpse of his expression. His jaw is clenched, brows furrowed as his gaze is fixed on his glistening cock disappearing into your tight cunt over and over again.

Up down, up, down.

"That's it, good girl. Fuck yourself on me. Just like that, now we're getting somewhere."

The leather armchair creaks and protests under your combined weight, but Crane’s grip on your waist is keeping you right where he wants you. Obediently riding his cock. You let out a soft groan, feeling how the repetitive rise and fall of your hips causes your thighs to tremble.

“Mhm… My legs hurt…”

His response to your complaints is a hand around your throat and a harsh pinch to one of your nipples. The man beneath you clicks his tongue, lips pulling down into a displeased frown. Compared to your panting, sweating state, Jonathan seems remarkably composed. Still dressed and meeting your eyes with a combination of amusement and mock disappointment.

“Now, now. We just started. Surely you can last a little longer, pet.”

A breathy moan slips past your lips, and his hand around your throat tightens its grip as you pick up the rhythm again. Up and down. His study feels like it’s boiling, and you almost mistake Crane’s heated tongue lapping at your tits for actual fire. But the only burning is in your thighs and your pussy as his cock stretches out your slick heat every time you sink down on him. It’s such a delicious cocktail of pain and pleasure, knocking the air from your lungs every time your ass meets Jonathan’s lap.

A bead of sweat rolls down your sternum, eagerly kissed away by Crane before he leans back in the armchair. He releases your throat and allows his hands to descend along the curves of your body where they knead your soft flesh until they settle on the meat of your hips, fingers sprawled out. Possessive. If he could print out what his eyes are currently seeing, he’d make a thousand copies of you, bouncing on top of him. You’re a vision to him. Lips parted and face softly scrunched up from the mix of discomfort and bliss. His perfect girl that he invested so much time into defiling properly.

You release the iron grip you have on Jonathan’s shoulder to bring a hand down to your pulsing clit, desperate for that sweet additional pleasure. But before your fingertips can aid you in your quest, your hand is smacked away, and Crane grabs your wrist to return it to his shoulder. A warning.

“No. Absolutely not,” he chides, digging his short nails into your hips and causing you to wince and clench around his cock. “Hands off.”

Letting out a strangled noise, you clench your eyes shut, trying to focus on your movements instead of the dull ache in your legs. The prolonged strain on your thighs causes your pace to falter again, and this time, Jonathan assists you in your plight, giving you a soft pat on your rear.

“Tilt your hips towards me. You want to feel good? Grind that clit on me, pet.”

Well-trained as ever, you follow his instructions, leaning forward a little and shifting your hips. Instantly, you falter, sinking against him to press your face into the crook of Crane’s neck. At this new angle, his cock hits even deeper, sitting snug against that sweet spot just below your cervix that has you whining and squirming. A shiver runs down your spine as the man below you moves your hips with his hands, urging you to grind back and forth on him. Your aching thighs are grateful for this new method, and your clit even more as it finally gets the attention you’ve been waiting for.

You huff out a moan into Jonathan’s neck, wishing he wasn’t still wearing his shirt. But of course, the psychiatrist prefers to stay clothed while he has you riding him. It makes the difference in power even more obvious. And while you have to resist the urge to tear off his button-up, he has the privilege of seeing all of you; the privilege of licking and biting every inch of your delicate skin.

His teeth scrape over your collarbone and further up, sucking marks into your flesh and littering your throat with a beautiful array of bruises. A self-made collar, painted by his lips onto the canvas that’s your body. You’re his favorite art project by far.

The grinding doesn’t do much for him, but it’s worth it, if only because he gets to see you come undone right above him. The knot in your core tightens with every roll of your hips against his pelvis, and you’re already holding your breath to prepare for your imminent climax. But that’s when Jonathan’s hands stop you by gently pushing you back into an upright position, removing that delightful friction from your poor clit. You whine, and he shushes you, not in the mood to entertain your pathetic wailing.

“No, pet. You need to learn properly. Don’t worry… After the third repetition, it’ll become second nature.”

He pushes his thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue to prevent you from speaking as he works together with you to get you back into a proper bounce on his cock.

“Good girl. Let’s take it from the top, then.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @seaamonster

@rosiemarieyn @sagepixie @strangeobsessed @ryecosse @vegasisthinking

@paradiseprincesss

[harmonysanreads]

Hello !!! I hope you’re doing fine and enjoyed last patch quest! I really really love your writing, and especially like the way you write Ratio,,,,, that yandere Drabble you posted a while ago with Ratio and Aventurine sharing reader has been haunting me in the best ways <33

Since your request are open, could I ask for a one-shot of yandere Ratio and Aventurine? If it’s fine I’ll ask for reader to be shy/introverted but otherwise I’ll leave it up to your inspiration! Maybe about life at home, or visit in Penacony? Maybe they’re tormenting Reader through strip-poker? Maybe Ratio was inspired by the shrinking device and now they’re having fun with their pocket-sized darling? Anything you fancy I’m not difficult, I only ask you have fun!! <3

(I assumed your no-sequel rule only applied to one-shot, I deeply apologise if I was wrong fjekjdksjd)

Inure

yandere!aventurine x reader x yandere!dr ratio

cw(s) : yandere, forced proximity, slight dehumanization (but everything is sauteed in humor so bon appetit ✨)

wc : 1k

hi nonnie!! thank you so much for your sweet words<3 tbh every idea you presented was very enticing and i'll definitely keep them in consideration for later. for now though, i really wanted to write something soft for these two, i hope you don't mind :>

Inconveniences come in many forms.

Some more candid than most, while others lurk in the shadows of carelessness like hyenas ; ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey at the opportune time. Trouble and tribulation eclipse the course of human life, masquerading as two sides of the same coin. What they are, in truth, a pair of mischievous twins who are always watching, evaluating and trapping their victims in elation-filled jumpscares. It is also true that woes differ based on the individual, some even see fit to opine that the source of misery is the individual themselves.

Your vexations however, are dictated by two idiosyncratic persons with interests as farther apart as two solar systems. Which isn't a lot if one considers the magnificence of the universe, but distanced enough to be the tillable land of your miseries. Said inconveniences usually arrive dressed as revoked privileges, confiscation of entertainment items and... movie nights.

A night where you're supposed to be enjoying a film as a group shouldn't have been such an adversity if the aforementioned individuals respected the bare minimum of being normal. On usual occasions, who you end up accompanying is maintained through a strict schedule as opposed to the much friskier notion of rolling-dices that was favored by a certain blonde (in which he always emerged victorious and was thus declared irrationally imbalanced by Veritas) — but, an unforseen lapse of management and chaos was bred.

In matters that concern you, it seemed as though even the most seamless co-operations failed to reach a simple consensus. So when the erudite Dr Ratio expressed eagerness to spend a ‘relaxing afternoon’ with your person, it clashed quite clamorously with Aventurine's desire to have you participate in one of his many adrenaline-high games. And because of the decrease in release of dopamine that came from being a frequent observer of their arguments, you ended up suggesting this dreadful activity ; Ratio's silent perusal by your left and Aventurine's equally quiet phone browsing by your right are all that remains of the earlier fiasco.

You consider it a shame, because unbeknownst to them, you actually were plotting ways to watch this particular film. But, when at approximately fifteen minutes into the story you realized you were the only one among you three that was paying it any attention at all — you felt, quite blatantly, deflated. Surprisingly though, that was not the main source of your current misery at all, no, no ; what was causing you distress was the deplorable portion of space that they alloted to you from the couch.

At least Ratio has the habit of crossing his legs subconsciously, making your life just a miniscule easier. Unlike Aventurine whose default setting is to be attached to any patch of your skin anytime you're within his radius and when he brings that to the cauldron of being compressed between him and Ratio — it perfectly justifies why you're dancing between the provocative lines of mild annoyance and a meltdown. You'd believe they forgot about your existence altogether if not for Ratio's definitely-not-intentional shifting and the without context headpats from Aventurine.

Their treatment, although (probably) not deliberate, suggest you to be the equivalent of the pampered housecat and if one was to generously point out the expression on your face at present, that allegation would be right.

You stifle a sigh that transitions into a yawn with your only friend in this dreadful world, your plush pillow. The dialogues exchanged by the actors in the movie gradually become unintelligible as your vision morphs into a kaleidoscope of black dots and patterns. You draw your knees closer until they become parallel to your chin, musing a scenario where you lean so into the couch that it swallows your form and hurls you into a wonderland free of covetous hands or hearts. Where you could roam without eyes attached to every move you make and most importantly, where the notion of inconveniences would cease to exist.

You've seen it happen in shows a younger you indulged in and a passing thought makes you smile sardonically ; the world is so bizarre that you've effortlessly found yourself in a situation as complex as your current one but, not bizarre enough to make fantasies such as these a reality. The noises from the screen, Ratio's nonchalant page turning and the fragrance of Aventurine's cologne make your lucidity sway, until darkness cradles you close.

That night, you found yourself having a rather tender dream. In your dream, the blonde promptly busied himself in positioning you more comfortably on his lap upon feeling your slumbering head hit his shoulder. You felt succinctly amused upon the ‘place the pillow under their head, moron!’ that left a certain virtuoso's lips. Said virtuoso, shifted the rest of your body to be rested on his lap with a gentleness that baffled even Aventurine. Some say that dreams are manifestations of the desires that stay stagnant within the crevices of our minds. If that theory holds even a fraction of credence, then the percipience of what your subconscious desires, leaves you feeling as solemn as sated.

By the hour you gain awareness of the waking world again, there is but silence surrounding the living room. Your first blink is followed by a series of more and your sense of feeling works faster before your sense of sight, it sticks quite insistently just above your knees and atop your head. You roll a bit and realize they are in fact the hands of Ratio and Aventurine respectively, holding you away from kissing the floor and cracking your nose. As your vision gains more clarity, you notice the purple-head, supported by the palm of his left hand and the arm of the couch. You rise up and notice Aventurine mirroring Ratio's position, you conclude them both to be asleep judging by their collective inertia despite your movements.

Your eyes shift downwards towards the pillow on which you rested moments before and seeing it positioned exactly atop Aventurine's lap, confirm your suspicions that the scene you witnessed in your sleep had, in fact, happened in reality. Perhaps the universe heard your hopeless plea and bargained it with this speck of generosity.

They really didn't move an inch — but the bubbling warmth was soon pushed down by — as if I was a cat they didn't want to disturb!

being treated like a cat by two of the most cat-like characters in hsr lol

[hereissomething]

woke up this mornin and im back to normal hi guys👋

watched Little Miss Sunshine again on a crappy dvd and i think im going into my sadboi era

[justporo]

Like a cat in the afternoon sun

A/N: Idk, I just vomited up this drabble because I needed to get into a writing headspace I guess. It's not proofread because I need to get to other stuff but hope you enjoy a short drabble about Astarion enjoying his time in the sun. ~~~

Astarion lay relaxedly in the grass. Arms behind his back, to prop up his head to better soak up the warm rays of sun on his face. His legs angled and one ankle placed on the knee of the other leg. He drew lazy circles with his foot up in the air.

You could swear you could even hear a delighted sigh and see him take in a deep breath before he loosened it with his chest visibly falling slowly. He'd told you he didn't need to breathe once. But it seemed that filling his lungs with air before letting it all out again with a contented hum still had as much of a relaxing effect on a vampire as it had on you.

Just a few weeks back you would have never thought to see him like this - soaking up the sun like a cat lazing about in the afternoon. But Astarion had made leaps with feeling comfortable around you and the others - maybe even trust you.

At first his eyes had always seemed to flit around, watch everything and everyone to always pick up on possible threats as early as possible. He was still terribly scared and distrustful mostly. Of course he was. Your adventure was far from over and your quest for a cure far from done. Not to mention that freeing him from his master had climbed up very high on your list of priorities too, now that you knew of the horrors he'd had to endure before all this.

But somewhere in between he had found these moments to take a break, however short and small it might be. Just some room to breathe. A spot to bask in the warm daylight he hadn't felt on his skin in more than 200 years.

And a way to open up, let you in - if only a little, one small step at a time.

You tiptoed over to him, careful not to disturb his moment of peace and knelt down next to him while paying attention to not announce yourself by blocking out his precious sun.

It was delightful to see him like this. A warm feeling filled your chest as you watched him enjoy a quiet moment. If it was up to you, you'd find a way to always offer him moments like this.

In a sudden urge you felt you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips.

The vampire hissed and immediately went to push himself up, eyes flying open. But he relaxed again when he realised it was just you. He simply clicked his tongue in disapproval and sank back down again and closed his eyes once more.

That also might have been part of the process: some time ago you might've had a dagger between your rips now.

"You're blocking my sunlight, you little scoundrel," Astarion said in annoyance but with a smirk that told you that he was just messing with you.

"Sorry," you simply said and watched how the vampire observed you with one of his ruby eyes opened again.

"It will probably happen again," you continued when he had just closed his eye and settled in for sunbathing again. Lightning quick you pressed another kiss to his lips.

But this time the rogue was prepared and his arms quickly grabbed you and pulled you to his chest and held you there. You yelped.

"Rude!" the vampire exclaimed and wrapped his arms around you.

"I fear you need to be punished for your crimes," Astarion continued and wiggled you around in his arms until you were snuggled up against his side, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

"Oh?" you simply made as you tangled your legs with the vampire's.

"Yes, laying with me until we have to keep going to teach you not to disturb a vampire enjoying his rare moments of sun," Astarion explained and squeezed you close to him to show you that there would be no getting away.

"Sounds fair," you replied and snuggled a little closer still while you felt the rumble of Astarion's soft laughter shake through your body.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

[bookworm-with-coffee]

Insecurities. . .

(Kili x Reader)

(A/N); Hello and welcome, readers!! As always, thank you for stopping by!! I thought it was high time to write a fic for Kili! After all, who can resist that cheeky smile of his?? Do enjoy! ❤

Plot; Comfort drabble

Pairings; Kili x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; fluffity-fluff and some angy-angst

_____________________________________

The evening was cheerful, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield having stopped for the night after a long day's travels. Peaceful ambience of the forest began to increase in the nightfall, the breeze light and cool as it swayed through the rustling trees.

Firelight filled the camp with a warm flickering glow, the smell of woodsmoke and Bombur's cooking potent in the air. Conversation was easy to find and delightful, as always. Bofur, Dwalin, Nori and a few of the others were sat together, conversing in what sounded like their native tongue. The intricacies and mysteries of Khuzdul still left you amazed, despite how it was only merriful banter.

You had stood by Bombur, offering to take Bofur's place tonight as the food-server. Each bowl of soup was steaming hot, your steps having to be quick to avoid burning yourself too badly from the scalding liquid as it dripped from the bowl. Each Dwarf had eagerly taken the food that was offered, exhaustion fueling their hunger. Even Bilbo and Gandalf seemed relieved to finally be eating this evening. The days were long and draining, trudging through the wilderness in the everchanging landscape. You too found relief in finally dropping down beside the youngest of the two Princes once your rounds were finished.

Fili, who usually kept him company of a nighttime, was occupied in the audacious conversations nearby. The booming laughter that rang out almost startled you whilst you settled in alongside Kili, him offering the occasional soft chuckle at the words being thrown between bites of his food.

Darting to you, the Prince's hazel eyes glistened with the embers of the campfire. A soft smile of amusement crossed his face, the action always seeming to offer you comfort. "What are they on about now?", you quirked a brow, his expression becoming contagious.

"By this point in the conversation, I don't think you want to know".

"Enlighten me", you encouraged, laughter slipping from the Princeling's lips. It was hard for Kili to restrain his smile when he finally obliged.

"They're taking bets on whether or not Bofur uses his hat in the bedroom".

"Pigs", you huffed, a moment's silence passing before you added, "He clearly does". The Prince snorted, his soup suddenly travelling through his nostrils. Something akin to a guffaw escaped his lips, whilst he desperately tried to grapple his composure in your now shared laughter.

"Agreed", he managed to wheeze out, wiping at his face and mouth.

In moments like this, you appreciated the bond that had formed between you both. Despite the seriousness of the quest at hand, you always found yourself at ease within Kili's easygoing nature and cheeky humour. He always had a way of soothing your anxieties with his jokes and lighthearted conversations, always looking on the brighter side of things. And although he was oblivious to such things, you'd come to find him to be quite beautiful.

It was hard not to when the light of the fire danced over his features, illuminating the strands of hair that fell effortlessly over his face. You'd come to admire those wavy tresses with their now auburn glow, sitting over his strong and broad shoulders. You wondered how he cared for them, keeping them so clean despite the lack of hygiene this quest entailed.

With his head turned and gaze fixed on the forest ahead, you found that his messed half-up had lost a few strands that dangled, masking the Prince's handsome face from your current view. His metal clasp was now sitting loosely on the back of his head. And although it offered him a fitting style, you wished to fix it for him.

Dinner became suddenly forgotten in your new endeavours when you decided to test the waters with Kili. Reaching for the strand that had fallen loose over his face, your fingertips worked the silken strands behind his ear with a delicate precision. The Prince almost seemed to stiffen at your touch, his breaths halting whilst goosebumps ignited across his skin. His lips had parted, lashes fluttering. No woman had ever touched him like that before. And although there was nothing sensual about your touch, it made every part of him light up like fire, craving more of that soothing gentleness.

Sensing his quiet, you became hesitant to continue. "May I fix your hair for you?". Your question had his hazel orbs clouding in confusion, scanning your face for any sign that you may have been jesting. He nodded shyly, his voice seeming to waver slightly,

"Please". That being all the confirmation you needed, you pulled the large clasp from his hair, the thick layers falling loose. Excitement bubbled in your chest whilst you shuffled closer to the handsome Dwarf.

Steadying his breaths, he resisted the shudder that passed through him when your fingers began working through his hair like a gentle comb. You began to remove the small tangles, relishing in the soft touch of his hair. The moisture in the strands was not greasy or dirty in nature and his waves bounced back, unaffected by your touches. The Prince's eyes had fallen closed, his dinner being long abandoned in his blissful state. The sensation of your nails brushing over his scalp had him drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to fight the pleasurable sighs that dared to leave his throat.

The boisterous conversations that once ensnared his attention had faded from his ears. He was barely able to register your voice when you spoke so gently to him. "Your hair is so beautiful", you marveled, spindling his soft hair between your fingers playfully. "How do you keep it so soft and lovely?". The young Prince felt his throat tightening from shock, pondering what your interest was in his hair. In his opinion, there was nothing special about his tresses.

Kili gathered no attention from women, unlike his fellow kin. His complete lack of facial and body hair meant that to any respectable Dwarf, he was considered ugly or unattractive. At your compliments, it was only normal for him to be in a state of disbelief. You were the first and only woman to take interest.

"It's nothing special", he finally murmured. "I just use a light oil after I wash my hair".

"You need to lend it to me sometime", you insisted with a grin, your eyes seeming to sparkle with mirth. "It works wonders on your hair. It's so beautiful". Kili felt his heartbeat increase, his tone falling quieter amidst his further disbelief.

"Do you think so?". In a sudden surge of confidence, you replied,

"I know so. You have the most gorgeous looking hair out of all the Dwarves in this Company". His eyes had blown wide, his lips parting in surprise. "It looks lovely pinned back", you added, finally binding his hair securely with his clasp. "Or left out". You shrugged. He grew confused when you shuffled in front of him. "But, I think I like your fringe the most. It frames your kind face without hiding it".

You were so close now, your (e/c) eyes trained on the delicate strands that made up his bangs. Your touch was featherlight and uncalloused, your face screwed in concentration. In your current focus, you didn't see the admiration and awe for you that shimmered in his gaze. Never had he gotten attention like this, even from a friend. Friend. He despised that word when his thoughts drifted to you. But, how could you possibly ever find him attractive?? His lack of facial hair and muscle was unmanly, even by human standards.

You were strangely beautiful to Kili. You weren't as tall or lithe as the Elves, nor as creamy-skinned or graceful. You had perfect little imperfections in your skin and freckles. Your hair had character, being curly. And you almost always wore your hair out of your face, the odd stray hair coming to frame it perfectly. And from the moment he sensed his feelings for you some weeks ago, Kili had felt his confidence decrease. He felt as if he had no chance with 12 other eligible Dwarves in the Company that could easily win you over with their toned bodies and lavish, braided hair.

The Princeling wasn't oblivious to how you often spent your time with Ori, looking through his books and learning how to knit the varying patterns he practiced. And despite how Ori was much younger than Kili, he had an attractive amount of body hair. He was nowhere near as confident as the Prince, nor as rehearsed in the prowess of battle. However, it didn't stop the envy that crept its way into his heart and mind. Looks had always mattered to everyone else before, so why would it be any different now?

When your cooler hands brushed over his face whilst you worked, it left burning tingles in his skin. You noted the perfect shaping of his eyebrows, running your thumbs over them to smooth any stray hairs. His features were strong, to be expected of a man in Dwarven culture. You swept loose pieces of his fringe from his cheeks, his stubble seductively rough beneath your skin.

Some part of you preferred Kili without a beard. All the hair that hung from the others was so extravagant, but you liked seeing more of his face. His cheeky smile was your favourite thing to see, even on a bad day. Perhaps a beard would hide that?

Raking his fringe up for slight volume, you found yourself taken by how ethereal he seemed. You questioned yourself on whether or not it was your lack of food and rest from the day, but you couldn't ignore the fondness that crept into your soul at being so close with him. A smile marked your face, setting the last strands of his dark locks aside.

"Beautiful", you'd murmured, a sense of accomplishment filling your heart. The warmth of his skin increased beneath your lingering fingertips, his hazel gaze playing over your softer features. To his greater surprise, there was only genuity in your expression. Not wanting you to retreat from him, Kili placed his heated callouses over your own, fighting the way his eyes slightly glazed over with tears.

"Thank you". He offered you one of those boyish smiles, taking comfort in the suppleness of your skin beneath his own. You caressed the stubble beneath your skin, grazing your thumb over the smoothness of his sharp cheekbone. Kili chuckled in amusement, "I look a bit more dignified now".

"Nonsense. Your hair looked fitting either way", you laughed softly, squeezing the warmer hands that held your own. "It's truly beautiful. Stubble and all". His dark brows had risen, wonder filling his kind gaze. You really didn't mind his lack of body hair??

"I always thought my stubble was– I thought it may have been unsightly", he confessed with the hints of a nervous smile, your brows creasing in light concern. "Beards are of high importance in my culture".

"Not in mine", you shrugged, slowly trailing your thumb over his dimples and slightly chapped lips. "Besides, how else would I be able to see that gorgeous smile?". The shy grin that slowly splayed onto his face at your words was the happiest one you'd ever seen on the Prince. Your words had dissolved any unsurities in his heart. "That's the one", you giggled, Kili trying and failing to restrain his smile.

"I think I like yours better", he murmured, sweeping one of your stray curls from your face. "It's the one I fell for, after all".

The small gap between you both closed, Kili's burning lips meeting yours in a gentle touch. It started off unsure and light, becoming almost fervent when your head tilted and lips parted to allow his tongue to slip past them. Using his hand resting along your jaw, he guided your head closer to his own, relishing in the need to be as close to you as possible. His stubble scratched the skin of your face pleasurably, a soft sigh exhaling through your nose.

The both of you separated, your lips swollen and tingling from the caresses and nibbles of his own. Kili's eyes finally fluttered open after a few moments, skimming your face with a soft tenderness. "Abnâmul", he whispered, running a heated digit over your tingling lips. "You'll have to let me do that more often".

"I'll have to think about it", you mused, squeezing the hand that cradled your face affectionately.

"Hopefully not too hard", Kili sighed in pretend dejection, tracing his thumb along your cheek. "I do really love you".

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual", you chuckled softly, pressing your lips to his with a playfulness. No longer burdened with his insecurities, Kili's laughter chased your own,

"Me too".

The End. . .

________________________________________

Hey, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this fic! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!! If you wish to be a part of my taglist, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in! ❤❤❤

* * *

Translations;

Abnâmul = "beautiful", (Khuzdul)

__________________________________________

TAGLIST; @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @emrfangirl

[angelshadowsinger]

Priorities

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

Azriel leaves for yet another mission, even when you beg him to stay. Little does he know, you won't be waiting for him when he returns.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

so many of y'all sent me drabble ideas; thanks so much!! I will shortly get started on those, but... no one asked for angst. alas, i was in the mood so here it is anyway (T^T)

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

“You know I would rather stay here with you,” Azriel said, shooting you a look as he pulled the buckle of his greaves taut. 

He was leaving.

Again. 

And he was telling you the same thing as always. This conversation you loathed, the one that you would always circle back to. You could feel that he was tired of this, tired from his last mission, but you needed to get this off your chest. You sat in the bed upright, the sheets bunched around your naked chest as you fought back tears. He had only returned from his previous mission last night, yet here he was— about to depart on yet another tedious quest, rushedly strapping his leathers to his firm build.

“Would you?” you hissed. 

You hated yourself for being so weak; your voice wobbled as anger and pain consumed you. But the shadowsinger wouldn’t know; he couldn’t feel your emotions, only observe them— he was not your mate, no matter how badly you wished he was. 

He sighed, as if this conversation was a chore. “I am the Spymaster of the Night Court— I have to go. Rhys needs me.” 

The male who held your heart was smashing it to the floor, crushing it beneath the boots he now clasped on. He didn’t even spare a glance at you, expecting you to just accept that he was never around anymore. He was going, and he didn’t care if he had your approval or not. 

“What about me?!” your voice broke and he finally looked at you— noticed how your eyes were red-rimmed, shining as you clenched the sheets in tight fists. “What if I need you?” 

Azriel paused, pain flashing in those hazel orbs you loved so much. He let out another weary breath, scarred fingers coming to pinch his brow, this fight such an inconvenience that a headache was forming there. “Please, Y/N— I have to go. You know this. I’m sorry, I promise the second this mission is done I’ll be all yours…” 

Lies. Such pretty, cruel lies. 

You couldn't help but wonder if he would stay, if you were his mate.

You bit your lip and stared at your lap. Tears finally ran down your cheeks, and you didn’t have the strength to look at him, for him to see how badly you were hurting. 

You knew what he was when you had first started seeing him, but this… he had barely seen you these last few months, only brief weekends or a few nights here and there. The mission the High Lord was sending him on now was tedious, and nowhere near as grave as it should’ve been for someone of Azriel’s importance. 

“Why does it have to be you, Az? Can’t he send someone else? You can’t be the only one that he can call on…” 

The bed dipped as he sat beside you, a gentle hand tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. He examined the wetness tracking down your face, the devastation in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he offered, a thumb brushing over your cheek.

You studied the Illyrian. Sorrow was evident in his eyes, but you knew there was nothing you could say to make him change his mind. And he knew there was nothing he could say to comfort you.

“That’s not enough,” you whispered, fingers landing on his wrist. 

Dark hair fell onto his forehead as he tilted his head— a foreign emotion entering his gaze. His voice was soft and low as he uttered, “What?”

Your chest shook as you moved his hand away from you, placing it on the sheets at your side. “This isn’t enough anymore Az. I can’t— you’re never here anymore… There's only loneliness here now and I feel like I— I'm drowning in it.”

Pink lips parted as he recognized the despair in your tearful stare. Panicked hands latched onto your bicep, the other tucking your mussed hair behind your ear. “Don’t— Don’t say that, angel. I know I’ve been busy with work lately, I do, just— hold out for just a little longer, we’re almost through this.”

“Are we?” you asked, shaking your head. “How can you even say that? You and I both know the second Rhys asks you to go, you will. It doesn’t matter if you’ve just come back, if you’re hurt, if you’re exhausted— where is the line? When will you tell him no?” 

Hardness cut the emotion in his gaze, his tone icy as he growled lowly, “Rhys is our High Lord— think carefully of how you speak of him.”

You bristled at his tone. “He is your brother above all else— Should he not care for you? Can he not see he is demanding too much of you, overworking you? And where is your self-respect, will you only say yes, and yes and yes— until you collapse from exhaustion?” 

Azriel stood and strode away, scarred fingers curled into fists. “I don’t have time for this fight again,” he snarled, yanking a vambrace off the dresser and shoving it up his forearm. 

“Of course you don’t, you don’t have time for anything! You never have time for me!” you yelled, shoving on the cotton shirt he had discarded when the two of you had undressed last night. It felt too vulnerable to expose your bleeding heart while you were physically bare, but little reprieve came from the clothing.

The male ignored you, working on his other arm before he slung a sheath around his waist. His favorite dagger gleamed, taunting you while you sat and watched him ready himself for yet another journey. 

He was really going.

Another wave of sadness washed over you. You had reached your breaking point.

“I love you, Azriel,” you sobbed quietly, more tears escaping now as he finished equipping his weapons. “But I can’t be with someone who is never here… I can’t— I can’t do this anymore. I have so much love to give you, but how can I when I cannot reach you? And me— I deserve to be loved too, Az... do you... do you even love me anymore?”

It was only the truth that was pouring from you now, no matter how bad it hurt to acknowledge such things. You wanted to be loved, and Azriel was not giving you that as of late. You wished he would give himself to you, choose to spend more time with you... but he had come to prove to you time and time again that he would never prioritize you. His duty to the court and his pure devotion to his brothers would always come before you, no matter if they demanded too much of him.

The sound of metal and leathers stopped as you cried, your face falling once more as you held your head in your hands. Heavy boots thudded as he came back to you, a hand coming to pet your hair as he planted a kiss on your forehead. 

“Of course I love you, Y/N… so much,” he said, his voice laced with emotion that he battled to keep at bay. Your plea had sliced his heart; your doubts of his love for you scathing him. But his brothers were already waiting for him, and he couldn’t delay his departure any longer…  no matter how the sight before him broke his heart. “Please just wait for me... I swear we will sort this out when I return.” 

He lingered close for a moment, hoping you would find comfort in his promise. But you only folded in on yourself, body shaking with sobs. For a moment he considered staying; he did not want to leave things like this, unresolved, an open wound bleeding and aching. 

As always, Azriel ultimately decided to go— the air rushing as shadows gathered around him— and then he was gone. He promised himself he would make haste with this mission; the idea of you hurting alone made his stomach clench with unease and he would not delay returning to your side and resolving this.

But he wouldn’t get the chance, not this time.

Because the second he was gone, you let yourself fall apart, knowing that by the time he returned, you would be gone. 

For once, you would be the one that was leaving. 

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

[itskybabes-blog]

Duke Dennis Drabble

Duke Dennis x fem!reader (no face claim but poc!reader friendly)

Part one: Unrequited Love Disclaimer: this is written by a dyslexic person – please forgive any grammar and spelling errors

TW: swearing, themes of drinking, sexual harassment and comparing body types

Plot: You and Duke have been friends for years, but you have had a crush on him for a while. At an AMP pool party, you reach breaking point.

Word count: 965

The wet, glistening caramel-toned skin of scantily clad women sparkle in the sun as they dance evocatively around the pool. You feel a bit out of place because – although, being a vision of beauty – you know his type is IG baddies and BBL bandits. Your naturally droopy E-cup tits and grabable ass might not be his cup of tea, but then why do you care? 

You and Duke have been friends for a couple of years now. You were a journalist and sometimes you get the perk of the odd brand trip. While atop of a snowy ski slope in Switzerland, the two of you hit it off and your friendship made it out of the group chat. 

Since then, he’d invite you around to do cool stuff together – just as friends. You’ve been a frequent visitor at the AMP house and have become good friends with the guys, particularly Agent, Kai and Fanum. Duke’s whole fandom even knows you’re one of his best friends and always ask when you’d pop up next in one of his streams. 

So, it wasn’t strange for you to be there, standing by the bar downing shots of Casamigos with the AMP lot at their latest pool party. You wipe the spilt liquor on your chin with the sleeve of your shrug and fix the matching leopard print bikini you wore. Don’t lie to yourself: these girls couldn’t hold a candle to you. But, watching Duke lean back and let one of those IG models slam their round bumper on his crotch made you feel a way.

About two years into your friendship, his dazzling smile and Southern charm started to melt your heart. When you looked into his chocolate-coloured eyes, you felt a flutter in your stomach that you never had before. You’ve been meaning to tell him but, come on, you look so good – surely he’d just take a hint. 

Well, there’s nothing alcohol and good music can’t help. The anxiety of wondering whether Duke got your signals or not vanishes while you throw it back to some Sexyy Red. You be sure to scream the chorus to ‘Looking For The Hoes’ and act out with all you two’s mutuals. Even one lucky fella gets a whine from you when the dancehall music comes on. 

While Duke was having his own star moment on the other side of the pool, you did too where you were. By the end of the night, you were both going to be the talk of the party. 

However, your time takes a turn for the worst when you glance over at the foine dark-skinned man shoving his tongue down the throat of some big-booty hussie. You sulk, dropping your head down to look at your pretty blue-tip toes. 

“Hey, gang!” Kai says, tapping you on the arm. “Yo, why you mad sour right now?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you lied.

“Well, come take this shot then!” he rebutted, handing you your 15th shot of the night. 

You’ve never been a lightweight but no one can survive this level of alcohol. Your quest to drown your feelings has gone too far and people are starting to notice due to the way your eyes glaze over and your lack of spatial awareness. 

You throw your ass around the slippery poolside, worrying all of your friends who think you’re doing way too much. Even at one point, your nipple slipped out and you didn’t even know until Zoe rushed over and fixed it for you. 

Agent runs over and tells Duke about your condition while he has the same broad on his lap. “Man, she’s a grown-ass woman. She don’t need no babysitter!” Duke exclaims back. 

“Please, dude, look,” Agent points over at you, stumbling aimlessly around the pool with a goofy smile on your face. He also sees a weirdo lurking behind you. The same man she danced with before (who was a random guest at the house) comes behind you and grabs your hips, trying to force you to dance on him again. You weakly push him away as who the fuck grinds to Chief Keef, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He tightens his grip on your waist and swiftly closes the gap between you. You drop your glass and it shatters, making a loud crashing sound, but the party still goes on as normal. 

The swift commotion causes Duke to quickly (after excusing himself from what would have been his flavour of the day) come to your defence and shove the man off of you. 

“What the fuck are you doing, bro? She don’t want your ugly-ass,” Duke boomed and squared up to the man. He got a few looks, but still, most partygoers went on like nothing was happening. 

“What’s your problem? She’s fair game,” the man said eerily, “I don’t see no ring on her finger and, earlier, she was all over me. She wants this.”

Clearly paralytic, you clung onto Duke’s side for stability. You look up at him with a look he knew all too well. 

Agent finally returns - this time, with security - to where you and Duke were.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Duke barked at the guy, pushing him towards the big burly men who scooped the creep up.

“No, you don’t understand,” he tried to argue while being dragged away. “She wants me! She wants me so bad.”

Duke ripped you off his side and threw you over his shoulder. 

“What the fuck? Put me- put me dooowwwnnn,” you hiccuped, trying to fight the bile rising up your throat. 

You have to wait a couple minutes for him to grand your request. Duke plops you on a bed - his bed - and stares at you in utter disbelief.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

A/N: Got writer's block with the Danny story, so I thought to start a cute lil' Duke drabble. All comments and advice are encouraged!