#((I’m probably just not a good writer but idk I try))

[the-californicationist]

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

[oh-katsuki]

sorry about rarely posting any drabbles or character thoughts or even fics even semi frequently I am not confident in my writing ability

[mistdrinkersblade]

((Sorry I haven’t been writing lately I’m just. Super unmotivated and keep losing threads and partners I really want to write with/about and it’s bummed me out hard))

[moonstruckme]

hi angel!! i was wondering if i may please request something with protective!sirius? (maybe rockstar!au but obviously doesnt have to be) and they’re at a party or something idk!! i just think he’s hot LOL

you’re such a good writer! also this is my first time sending in a request- so sorry if i did it wrong🩷🩷🩷

You didn't do anything wrong, thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: spiked drink, anxiety about bad trip

rockstar!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 655 words

You’ve got Sirius’ jacket and Remus’ arm heavy around your shoulders, and your sinuses are starting to hurt as the shouting coming from the kitchen intensifies. Sirius’ voice is the loudest, with James’ interjections only slightly less sharp but certainly no less upset. No one seems to be arguing back at them. 

“Are you okay?” Remus asks quietly. 

You hum. “I think I want to go back to the hotel.” 

“That’s probably a good idea. Want me to take you?”

“I was hoping Sirius might…” You chew your lip, eyes stuck on the closed kitchen door. 

You don’t want Remus to think you don’t want him to take you, but he seems to take it as you mean it, his expression characteristically kind as he follows your gaze. 

“I’m sure he will.” He stands, his arm slipping from around you as he starts towards the kitchen. “Someone’s got to tell this tosser off, but it doesn’t have to be him.” 

You follow after him more tentatively, staying behind Remus’ arm as he pushes the door open to stand in the threshold. 

James turns towards the both of you immediately, but Sirius is too caught up in his diatribe to notice. There’s an empty bowl of punch tipped over in the sink, rivulets of pinkish red running into the drain. A boy stands beside it looking positively terrified. You’re not sure exactly how James had found him, the groupie’s friend’s boyfriend who had thought it would be a fun idea to spike the punch with acid and not tell anyone about it, but clearly they’re not letting him off without forcing a thorough understanding of the consequences of his actions.

“Sirius,” you say softly. 

You’re not sure how he hears you over the sound of his own voice, but your boyfriend’s demeanor changes completely as he turns to you. His next insults fade from his lips, his posture shifting, the crackling fury about him melding into something softer and more pliable.

“Hey,” he says in a wholly different voice, “you okay?” 

You think the next time someone asks you that you might burst into tears. “Can we go?” you ask instead of answering. 

Sirius nods, brushing his hair behind his ear. With the many strands falling out of his loose bun and the messiness of his eye makeup, he looks about as frazzled as you feel. “Yeah, sweetness.” He starts towards you. “Let’s go. James—”

“I’ve got it, mate.” James gives him a weighted look. Though you’ll probably never be able to entirely decipher the language the boys share, you can read his meaning clearly enough: I’ll make sure he’s properly torn into whether you’re here or not. 

You ignore the boy by the sink and murmur a thanks to Remus. He lets the door shut after you and Sirius on your way out. 

Sirius guides you through the party with a hand on your back, the feel of his handprint distinct even through layers of fabric. People try to stop him, to ply the both of you with drinks and conversation and promises of after-after-parties, but he ignores most of them and keeps his responses short with the rest. It’s not long before you’re spilling out into cool night air. 

“I didn’t realize how smoky it was in there,” you admit. 

Sirius pushes out a breath and draws you tighter against him in a sort of walking half-hug. “I’m so sorry about all of this. Do you really feel okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I don’t think it’s kicked in yet.” 

“You’ve probably got a little while, but we’ll get you to the hotel and make sure it’s not bad for you.” He kisses the top of your head firmly, nose pressing into your hair. “I have no fucking clue what would lead someone to think that was okay. That prick thought it would be funny, as if you can just drug people without telling them and everyone will—” 

“Sirius.” You can hear him getting riled up again, and you really can’t deal. It’s not that you don’t love how much he cares, that protective ire that swells up in him on your behalf. But you’re scared right now. You feel tired and unsteady, and having someone to blame doesn’t help you the way it does him. “Can we not talk about it right now, please?” 

Sirius shuts his eyes, and you can see the stiff, quiet breath he takes to settle himself. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, baby, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you reply softly. 

When he looks at you, all the anger in his gaze has fizzled out, leaving only raw tenderness in its wake. “Are you nervous?” 

“A little,” you say. It’s a half-truth. “I don’t know what to expect.” 

“You’ll be okay,” he promises. “I’ve done it before. We’ll just get you comfy in the room, and I’ll be there to look after you. Does that sound okay?” 

You lean into his side. Sirius takes your weight happily, moving his hand so his arm goes around you. His thumb sweeps over your ribs. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

[stealingyourbones]

I don't really get the people who think reading the comics is such a radical idea. Don't they want to learn more about them? aren't they curious what makes them tick? what insane adventures they went on? what fears they have? what makes them laugh and smile? I'm from europe so I haven't seen any of the DC shows I see mentioned every once in a while (which means I really don't get the whole Clark hates clones thing... but that's a different thing) and it's only been this year that I have enough disposable income to splurge on comics, aka I haven't read that many just yet.

But I do think the ones I have read enhance the stories I'm trying to tell, which to me is a good reason to read them ;p but besides that, they are fun! they are just really fun to read

I’m glad you’re having fun reading comics man! It’s a shame that folks don’t read them as much but you know, I can understand it. I both asked some folks in the Haunting Heroes discord server and have some of my own points to make about this.

First of all I do still believe that you should consume some form of DC media if you’re in the fandom. It’s fun and there are comics, books, movies, tv shows, and every other form of medium known to man that you can take a peek at! Idk I’m just a bit DC enjoyer and think that looking at canon media to expand on your knowledge and help create ideas you wouldn’t have had if you hadn’t looked at said piece of media.

Now onto why reading comic books is hard:

Some folks simply prefer the fandom and not the official DC content. Whether they prefer fanon, find fics more accessible, or like the people in the fandom, they’d rather just stick to the fandom.

They simply don’t know where to start. Getting into comics can be INCREDIBLY overwhelming ( DC has done their best to fix this and has messed up more than once. My go to is to reccomend folks just start reading New 52 comic runs as it’s really good for new readers to jump into the comics with any hero that might intrigue them). Big comic events span multiple comic story runs and not a cohesive line of comics, some omnibuses for stories are out of print, the 80+ years of comics are daunting as hell, and everyone has their own opinion on the best versions of a character/where to start/what to read.

Money. Comics are an expensive hobby to have. They may cost $1-$5 each on average but that price adds up over time. I have a comic collection of roughly 1,300 comics. I’d estimate its value very roughly around the $7,800 range. It’s probably far more than that though and I know damn well reselling it I won’t get half of that value back. I’m very fortunate to be a college student with disposable income and for this hobby to be the only thing I ever really spend money on besides rent and food. Some people either can’t afford them or don’t want to buy a comic they don’t know if it’s good or not.

Varying quality. Comics are a very mixed bag thing where they can be incredibly written or some of the worst pieces of media you’ve ever read. With this being the case, it can be really hard to find a comic character or writer you like if that’s your first experience. It takes a while to learn about different writers and find out who your favorite writers are. What’s harder is some writers can make absolute masterpieces with one character and the next comic run they cover it can be absolute garbage. Not only that, everyone has opinions on what is a good comic run or not. It’s impossible to find a repeatedly stated and easily accessible list on the good comics to read.

Pretentious “Canon is God” fans. Experiencing “um actually this isn’t good because this isn’t how the canon character would act” responses from people can really fucking suck and diminish their want to experience anything that’s official DC writing. I’ve seen more than one person go into this primarily fanon focused space and insult people saying their writing isn’t canonical and therefore it isn’t valid. It’s Uber Pretentious, demeaning, and actively harms peoples interests in checking out canon content.

Timelines. I already kind of said it but DC’s timelines are a mess. hell, even New 52 has some fucked up timelines making all of Batman’s previous timelines canon but happen only within a seven year period. That’s WAY too short for how much history is packed in there. The amount of crisises that happen and fully change the lore and timelines of characters is bonkers, the comic runs that bounce between different comic runs are really confusing, and the fact that there isn’t a True Starting Point for reading makes it so hard to grasp anything that’s happening. It’s one of comics biggest issues and no matter what DC has done they have yet to find a convenient solution.

Sensitive Content. Comics from DC are littered with either intentional, badly aged, or ignorantly written plot points and writing choices that will turn away readers. DC has its fair share of sexism, misogyny, abelism, racism, abuse, sexual harassment, sexual assaults, or topics casually addressed that can be very triggering for some people. Especially since a large amount of that sort of content is handled incredibly poorly. One particular writer, Alan Moore, writes sexual assault scenes with absolutely zero tact or the delicateness that a topic such as that should be held in. It’s almost solely used as a “let’s make the bad guy do the most fucked up thing they could do” throwaway plot point. Comics of the sort dissuade a lot of readers because of both the heavy content within comics and how that content can be incredibly poorly handled. This is partially why some folks would prefer to read fics. Comics are a unknown mixed grab bag when it comes to content like this and things exactly like this is known to make PTSD symptoms worse while fics have tags and can warn you before you consume the content within.

Time. A lot of folks have busy lives and just don’t have the time to read them.

The ways they intake media. Some folks might have a better time watching a long commentary video that explains a comic or their brain can’t process the comic medium very well. I can read and retain comic knowledge but even I am unique in this aspect, my memory is frightening levels of bad and is proven by science to be absolute shit. I have to reread comics at least once a month to retain the basic bare bones plot. Just because one person can easily digest what’s going on in a comic doesn’t mean everyone can.

Comics are such a big part of my life. I love them so much and they’ve gotten me through so many things. My own experience with comics isn’t the same for others and my thoughts on reading comics differs with other people. A lot of people have equally as many reasons for why they don’t read comics as you and I have for reading them.

[williamvapespeare]

"every day i'm fucking smiling;" a rant (cogent, intellectual character study) about Charles

We all know that Charles Rowland is THE character of all time. Obviously. Undisputedly (except by Netflix) blabla. I, a mixed race bisexual idiot with daddy issues, am about to fucking get into it.

I think there are a lot of ways to get into that end of ep 4 scene – I think we can look from trauma, we can look from model minority syndrome, we can look from a place of people pleasing to the extreme, but I think the best way to get into Charles (for me, personally) is to look at him as a character formed of intersections. Of in-betweens. In literally EVERY way possible, he is between things. He’s mixed race, he’s (probably) bisexual, he’s between life and death, he’s between good and bad, he’s probably sitting somewhere between trauma and healing – like, he’s CONstantly engaging in coping mechanisms and that itself is an in between.

Ok this idea of “I must be liked” very obviously will come from living a life where the opposite of not being liked is always violence, and that definitely can’t be understated. But I think this whole scene and this line in particular really speak to this very specific feeling that comes with inhabiting an identity that is ALWAYS seen as “not enough” in some way. Like, if you sit in a place where you don’t speak one side of your family’s language well enough and simultaneously aren’t white enough (or whatever enough) for the other side, you’re just like fundamentally culture-less and fighting to just be ANYTHING.

(Another GREAT example of this I think is the game Life is Strange 2, which is about two Hispanic American brothers, one of them speaks Spanish and the other one is much younger and doesn’t and there’s a bit where the younger brother doesn’t want to leave the US and says “I don’t even speak Spanish” and the other one is like “don’t worry, everyone likes you.” Like YES being “““Likeable””” is maybe the only way in when you are so fundamentally detached from a thing that you are also fundamentally part of, anyway!!)

Similarly, like all of us bisexual people know we’re constantly getting shit from both sides, from straight people and gay people and probably like, corpses decomposing in the ground who are throwing around terms like “gold star lesbian” or whatever the fuck. People just look at whatever relationship you’re in and they’re like ah yep that’s you!!

Like the whole thing is the most reductive narrow-minded stupidity, but it’s also just THE WAY. It’s the way of stuff. And being like ok, I AM NOT ENOUGH OF ANYTHING THAT I AM. How are you going to deal with that, you’re going to try and be likeable?? Because that’s something you can control!!!

And I’m low key so mad that we can’t see a continuation of this story where we get to see a character slowly come to terms with these in-betweennesses and say like, I’m not actually two halves, I’m two wholes. This is intentional in-betweenness. Like yes, blabla let the boy be bi, but it’s SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. And I trust this show and I trust these writers to get that right and we were robbed of that.

So yeah idk tldr “every day I’m fucking smiling” was like the gut punch of the century. Whoever wrote that I’m omw to haunt your local Denny’s with my extroverted mixed race bisexual energy THANK U

[xgsturn]

good idea? - ( c.s )

summary: you couldn’t sleep so you decided to text chris asking if he wanted to smoke, it’s something you both always did and one thing lead to another.

warnings: SMUT, smoking (weed), oral (female receiving), pet names, (ma, baby), p n v (let’s not be silly wrap before u tap). probably more but idk

word count: 1,557

author’s note: this is my first one shot i’m scared LMFAOOO also i didn’t proofread sorry if there is any mistakes!!

please let me know if you want to be un added or added into the taglist. i had just decided to add my favorite writers!!

also my request & inbox are open 💓💓

-

i’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past 20 minutes. i’ve shifted and turned so many times i honestly lost count.

i open my eyes, groaning with annoyance. some nights i had trouble falling asleep, but there was always one solution to that problem.

i grab my phone, opening the messages app before quickly clicking chris’ contact.

this was a thing that happened every now and then. if one of us had troubles going to sleep i’d go over to his or vise versa. we’d smoke together and then usually get tired after that.

i hear a soft knock against my window signaling that he was here. i walked over to see chris sitting on the small balcony that was attached to the window.

i opened the window, climbing through feeling a slight breeze on my shoulders before shrugging it off.

“like i said you could’ve just used the door” i playfully roll my eyes at him.

“suck my dick” he replied back before sitting down on the ground. “when?” i said seriously. he raised his eyebrows and looked up at me.

“in all seriousness, you’re a life saver.” i sigh, sitting down, and relaxing my body.

he pulled out a fresh rolled joint from his sweatpants pocket, “i know” he smirked, putting the joint between his lips.

“lighter” he mumbles against the joint.

i toss him the lighter, watching as he lit it and inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out.

i’ll never deny the fact that chris is hot, we had a flirty friendship from the beginning but nothing ever got to far.

he passes the joint to me, i relight it due to the wind causing it to ash out.

i inhale, feeling the smoke enter my lungs. i look at him as i blew it out.

the joint eventually dies out. i look over to chris, starting to admire the way the dim street light in front of him is showing off his features. his hair slightly messy, his eyes hanging low and red and fuck his lips-, he interrupts my thoughts.

“did you hear anything i just said?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of some trance i was in.

“sorry, what were you saying?”

“i asked if you wanted to go inside, it’s getting a little cold” he repeats himself, looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

“oh yeah, sorry just a bit distracted” i reply back covering my face from embarrassment.

as i’m climbing back into my room i feel chris’ gaze burning through me.

i get into my room and chris follows right behind me.

-

chris and i have been talking for the past 15 minutes. we both got onto our phones scrolling aimlessly, sitting in a comfortable silence.

i still can’t help to think about him, how his touch would feel on me, how his lips would feel against mine, how his long slender fingers would feel inside me.

i zoned out with a video playing over and over.

“what are you thinking about?” chris looked at me curiously through his low hooded eyes.

we were both still feeling the high effects.

what am i thinking about? i’m asking myself the same question. we have been best friends for years. i mean i’ve always found chris attractive, but tonight is different.

the way his body is leaned against the headboard, his biceps slightly flexing as he puts down his phone and crosses his arms, putting his full focus on me.

maybe it’s just the weed still lingering or maybe i just crave his touch.

“nothing.” i reply trying to act nonchalant but clearly not working.

“nothing, hm?” chris smiles loosely, as he looks down at my thighs then back up to my eyes, making heavy eye contact.

i follow his gaze down to my thighs, realizing how tightly squeezed they are.

i widened my eyes and look back up at him, before trying to relax the ache between my legs.

he puts his hand between my legs, spreading them open. he rotates his body, fully facing me now. his lips inches away from mine.

“is this a good idea?” i say studying his face for an answer.

“do you want this?” he replies in a serious tone.

“so bad but-.”

before i’m done speaking, i feel a hand on my jaw, pulling me closer to him and attaching my lips to his.

my body tenses from the sudden move but quickly relaxes soon after.

he bites my bottom lip softly, making my mouth part open giving him access to slip his tongue in.

he climbs on top of me, refusing to break the kiss.

our tongues fought for dominance before letting him win.

i tugged on his hair, signaling i wanted more. he groaned into my mouth, making me squeeze my legs around his waist. i couldn’t ignore the feeling between my thighs anymore.

“tell me what you want.” he spoke, trying to catch his breath. his lips pink and swollen.

i swallowed, “anything.” i feel desperate for him, wanting to feel some kind of relief.

“be more specific baby”

“need your fingers.” i mumbled quietly.

“good girl” he smirked, pulling my shorts down to my ankles. he slowly kisses my thighs going to the areas around my core.

he avoided where i needed him most.

“please.” i say while looking down at him through my lashes.

his hand still on the band of my pink thong. “can i take these off?” he whispered, looking at me. i nodded.

“i need to hear you say it ma”

“fuck, yes please” i practically beg.

he pushed my thong to the side before glazing one fingers over my entrance.

he slipped one fingers inside me slowly, letting me adjust. i moan into my hand muffling it.

he removes my hand from my mouth, putting it beside me. “i want your neighbors hearing how good i make you feel.”

i got even wetter after that sentence.

as i adjusted, i wanted more. “another one.. please” he listens to my commands and adds his second finger.

he started going faster, curling his fingers inside me and hitting that spongy spot each time. “f-fuck, chris.” i moan out, my fingers gripping my sheets.

he adds his mouth into the mix, sucking and licking my clit with such precision that made me start rolling my hips towards him.

my back was arching as he continued with his eyes fixed on my face.

i knew chris was experienced but i wasn’t expecting this.

my knees were already getting weak. “chris…” my hand going to his brown loose curls, tugging them. “i’m close.” i started to squirm underneath him.

“not yet.” he spoke against my cunt, sending vibrations through my entire body.

as soon as he said those words i couldn’t hold it anymore. the knot in my stomach eventually snapped, coating chris’ face and fingers with my cum.

“you can’t follow a simple rule?” his expression was stern and serious, while licking his fingers and mouth clean.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t hold it” i reply, breathing heavy with worry all over my face.

he doesn’t say anything, instead he starts taking off his sweatpants following with his boxers. his dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

he was big and thick which honestly i wasn’t surprised about.

it was already leaking with pre cum. a vein coming from the tip to the base.

“think you can handle another?”

i move my eyes up to his face, “i- i don’t know if i can.” i stutter out.

“yes you can and you will” he says firmly.

his eyes darkened with lust, turning me on more.

i nod my head obeying him.

“which position do you want me in?”

“lay on your back so i can see your pretty face.” he slightly tilts his head and smirks.

the ache between my legs comes back causing me to clench my thighs again.

he notices and pushes his knee between my legs, leaving it against my bare cunt.

a pornographic moan leaving my mouth, as i try to grind against his knee to feel some kind of relief.

“be patient baby.” he strokes his dick a couple of times to fully harden it.

he removes his knee and bends down to push himself in.

we both moan feeling the pleasure that we were craving.

chris started thrusting his hips into mine at such a fast pace, and at this point i could cum at any minute.

he leans down and starts kissing my neck sloppily as he tries to remain at his pace.

“taking me so well.” he whispers into my ear.

“chris” that’s all i could say, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as my hips lazily jolted up meeting his thrust half way.

“hm? i fucked you dumb huh.” i nod as a response. i couldn’t even think of a sentence to prove him wrong.

he started rubbing on my clit fast. i threw my head back, my mouth hanging open but nothing coming out.

“cum for me ma.” he said maintaining eye contact, that was all i needed before i squirmed underneath him and came all over his dick. “that’s my girl” he whispered.

he groaned and let his head drop as came into me. i felt his warm liquid feel me up.

he dropped his body beside mine, turning to look at me. “holy fucking shit” he chuckled, catching his breath.

“so friends with benefits?” i suggest while also catching my breath. “fuck yes” he replies almost immediately, making me laugh beside him.

“here let’s go get you clean up” he says while getting up from the bed.

-

tag list!!

@lovingmattysposts @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @strawberrysturniolo @luvmila444 @m4ttslvr @sturniol0s @fawnchives @hysteria-things

[slutt4ellie]

Fated hearts starts with fire

(Will most likely have more then one part!!)

Ellie Williams x Reader

masterslist

PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5 // PART 6 // PART 7

Moving to a new city is tough, but it’s even harder when your roommate is a dick.

Summery: You moved out of your childhood town to peruse writing in NYC. While apartment searching you ended up finding a place 10 minutes off your campus, the one down side is you had to share it with a complete stranger.

Warnings -> Ellie’s just a complete dick, for good reasons! (sorta) / Alcohol usage / Mean!Ellie / Mean!Reader (sorta idk!) / I explained the clothes the reader is wearing twice but it doesn’t describe the reader being masc or fem! / WILL BE A SLOW BURN! / (Eventual smut ) / mention of previous relationships / toxic relationships /(Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4k!!

(Not Proofread!!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

You were beyond fucking nervous. 

You grew up in a small town since childhood and you’re currently standing outside your apartment in one of the biggest cities in America. New York City. 

Your parents thought you were “foolish” for chasing an imaginary dream which was writing. They constantly let you know that too, telling you most authors and writers go unnoticed by people with a greater talent and following.

Regardless it didn’t stop you from applying to a university in New York, and once you got in, you assumed it was a sign to pack up and leave the small city you called home for 18 years. 

Getting into one of your dream schools, packing up and leaving your parents, that was a few weeks ago and now you’re standing outside your two bedroom apartment. That’s right, two bedroom fucking aparment, it definitely wasn’t your ideal choice but when you saw an ad posted for a shared apartment for about 1.5k a month, you couldn’t exactly pass. 

Rent was already fucking expessive and now that you live in New York finding a place to live for under 3k well that was nearly impossible. So you quickly passed on the opportunity and decided you needed to step out for once and meet a new person, that being your roommate. 

You didn’t really know much about them other than the fact she was a girl, I mean you exchanged a few messages but to be honest she was dry, she only wanted a roommate because she couldn’t afford the apartment on her own and the person that previously lived with her had to move back to their hometown.

The fact she was a girl actually shared some comfort, I mean if it was a guy you would have been fine but trying to find something to relate on probably would have eventually killed you. 

So here you are, standing outside your new apartment with a key that the receptionist gave you, after you explained you were a new tenant that was moving. You weren’t a huge “people person", you had a few friends in high school which you still talk to often but other than that you were a homebody. You decided to nervously knock before entering the apartment which on the contrary seemed stupid since it was now also your apartment but it almost seemed respectful.

A voice followed the knock “Yeah it’s open you can come in!” That was your cue to open the door and your eyes were quickly met with peircing green ones. The girl had auburn haired with freckles that trailed her face, and a tiny scar on her eyebrow. “Who are you?” The girl said harshly looking you up and down which genuinely made you uncomfortable, but it’s not something you decide to mention. “I-I’m your roommate we talked. I’m-” You nervously held out your hand to shake which led the auburn haired girl to shake her head “I don’t have to know your name, we’re roommates, not friends.” Harsh, is all you could think. You just uncomfortably nod your head and let out a slight “Right.”

She just looks at the few boxes you had on the transport trolley and focuses her attention back on the tv as she plops back down on the couch. “Your room is down the hall on the left. Just put your shit there.” She sighs. 

I mean she's not the nicest person you’ve ever met but as of now you're sorta intruding on her space so you’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that’s why she seems to be on edge with your presence..!

It took you only a few hours to get your room setup. Since you moved pretty from your hometown you didn’t have the luxury of taking big things. Like your bed, mattress, shit like that. So you had a room, but the normal committees that come with a bedroom unfortunately didn’t apply. 

You also knew you had to get food considering you had nothing, you just took an assumption that the auburn hair girl wasn’t going to be suddenly sharing and giving you a helping hand allowing you to take something to eat. 

You got dressed throwing on a jacket and jeans to accommodate for the coldish weather that was taking place in NYC right now. But as you leave your room and walk down the hallway you notice the girl now has a friend sitting beside her on the couch. The person who you’re assuming is her friend has long brunette hair, brown doe eyes, and a nice smile. “Ellie just come onnnnn! Come to the party, forget about Cat and actually go out!” Okay so the auburn haired girl's name is Ellie, looks like her mysterious persona is now gone. You thought to yourself. 

And you must have been staring for to long because Ellies green eyes now meet yours and your face flushes red as she speaks “Can I fucking help you?” As Ellie finishes her sentence the brunette nudges her hard muttering something along the lines of “You don’t always have to be a dick!”

Now that you feel your self respect has gone since you were caught staring like a deer in headlights, you just shake your head fast, and incredibly embarrassed. This ultimately leads you to leave the apartment fast just as fast as you entered and go to the closest grocery store you could possibly find..

That whole interaction had to be at least an hour or so ago because when you entered the apartment both hands cuffing grocery bags it was completely empty, the fact that Ellie and the brunette were talking about some party had you come to the conscience that they most likely went to it, which to be fair you weren’t exactly complaining. You’re almost sure Ellie hates you anyway so the fact you didn’t have to deal with her almost felt like a breath of fresh air. 

After putting away the groceries you sat down on the couch and pulled out your phone. There were a few messages from your parents and your very few high school friends reaching out to see how the move went.

Mommmmmm ❤️ 

(5:30pm) - “Hey hun, checking to see how the move went! You’re officially a city girl 😎”

You

(7:32pm) - “So far so good! Settling in well!”

Mommmmmm ❤️

(7:33pm) - “How's ur roomy? Must be strange living with someone who's not me and dad. 😂”

You

(7:35pm) - “Definitely weird, but she's nice! I’m gonna make dinner love u mom ❤️”

Mommmmmm ❤️

(7:35pm) - “Love you honey! Get something in your stomach. 😘”

You knew lying to your mom was sorta shitty but if you told your mom “Yeah my roommate is kinda a dick. She wouldn’t drop it trying to convince you that you 100% would need a new apartment and you’ve already accepted that 1.5k a month is the cheapest you’re ever going to find. So lying seemed like a smooth approach to the situation. 

Dad  

(7:45pm) - Your mother let me know everything's going well with the move. Good to hear.

You

(7:47pm) - Yep! Thanks dad. 

(Read)

That was usually you the most you got from your dad, he wasn’t very “Lovey dovey” as your mom would say which you tried not to blame him, your relationship wasn’t too toxic other then the writing thing. 

One thing you have been doing is texting your friends all day letting the know about the roommate situation and everything that’s been going on. 

You 

(5:20pm)- I don't wanna move in, I don't wanna move in, I don't wanna move in, I don't wanna move in

Jess 🤗

(6:30pm) - Youll be fineeee!

Alex 🙊

(6:33pm) - yeah youll be fine! 

You

(6:34pm) - Guys actually help

(6:35pm) - Come to nyc

(6:35pm) - Come to nyc

(6:35pm) - SHE'S MEANN. 

Jess 🤗

(7:00pm) - WHO?

You

(7:10pm) - MY ROOMMATE

Alex 🙊

(7:33pm) - tf is happening? 😭

 You

(8:00pm) - fuck so when I first moved in she told me we dont have to fucking know each others names because were “Roomates and not friends” 

(8:01pm) - then I was gna go buy groceries and i accidentally stared and she she asked me if I fucking needed something

Alex 🙊

(8:33pm) - HUH? 

Jess 🤗

(8:40pm) - WHAT DID U DO?

 You

(8:44pm) - NOTHING. 

Jess 🤗

(8:40pm) - praying for u! 😁

Alex 🙊

(8:44pm) - same here girl

That was the last message you and your friends exchanged. They tried to calm you down a bit but you never had someone dislike you. You weren’t at all popular in school so you often went unnoticed which was FINE. But actually having someone dislike you and be open about the fact they actually don't enjoy your company was sorta humbling in a way?

You didn’t wanna force Ellie to like you but you didn’t understand why she already deemed that you were annoying or something.The thing you kept on going back to was the fact it was manly her space weather or not you liked it, it was almost like you were intruding and I guess if she felt that way you couldn’t blame her. 

It only took around 12 until your heard stumbling outside your apartment. It was a few seconds after when the front door opened and a man and woman let themselves in without knocking. You would have probably freaked out but the girl was the same one that was sitting on the couch with Ellie and she gave you a quick smile. “Hi” She has a very drunk Ellie on her shoulder which she quickly lets her down on the couch and picks her words back up looking straight at you “I’m Dina, this is Jesse, we're friends of Ellie.” She smiles and nudges Jesse which leads him to shake your hand softly. You followed up by telling them your name with a smile before you looked at Ellies limpish body on the couch. 

“Is she okay?” You looked at her, Ellie seemed way less hostile while she was sleeping which was refreshing. Dina almost instantly nods looking at you. “Oh yeah, she's just- she went a bit overboard tonight!” Jesse sorta chuckles “Cat situation clearly got her worked up” Your mind couldn’t help but wonder, did she fucking lose her cat or something, is that why shes so unreasonably moody. I mean it would make sense? 

You just nod looking at the pair, I mean you didn’t know what the fuck to say and this led Dina awkwardly make split eyecontact with you which followed by looking back at Jesse. “Well! We should get going It’s late and all and we got morning classes”

“Fuck tell me about it” You chuckle looking at them before talking “It was nice to meet you guys.” You smile nodding looking at them and Dina and Jesse both smile giving you a nice “Yeah you too” 

You went into your bedless room laying down a blanket against the cold wooden floor and layed a pillow right above that. Your mind wandered that night, you tried not to pay much attention to your roommate or what her friends said but you didn’t have much else to think about. Class started tomorrow and as much as you loved writing you had an undoubting feeling your professors were not going to pass up the chance to give you some insanely long ass writing assignment. So thinking about what Ellie's friends said was unfortunately on your mind.

When Jesse said “The cat situation” it had your mind go straight to the fact she probably lost her pet cat or something. But the more you thought about it, that seemed a tad bit far-fetched considering the conversion Dina was having with Ellie as they were talking on the couch “Ellie just come onnnnn! Come to the party, forget about Cat and actually go out!” you just took the benefit of the doubt and wanted to say that most people would probably say “Forget about the cat” while referring to the pet cat! I mean unless Dinas grammar is just really ass. Cat is most likely a person. 

You quickly shake your head mumbling out a quick “This is stupid” it was 1am, and you're thinking about whether your roommates' friends were talking about a real cat or a person. Fuck you need to make some friends here, because if this is how you’re going to be spending your nights it’s going to get rough quick!

The morning was groggy as your alarm woke you up. You had classes that you needed to go to and you refused to let yourself be late to the first day. You got up throwing on a pair of pants and a sweater that will make sure you’re not freezing your ass off during the day. You left your room and just to your fucking luck Ellie’s leaving her room at the exact same time leaving the both of you with weird ass awkward eye contact. You assumed she must have gotten off the couch some time throughout the night considering she's now in her bedroom. Since you were both staring for about 10 seconds Ellie finally talks. “I heard if you take a picture it will last longer?” 

You tried to shrug off the comment but each time she spoke it was like nothing nice was going to come out of her mouth. You just turned on your heel shifting your gaze from hers, going down the hallway trying your best to not give her a reaction. It was better to be the bigger person consider it feels like your literal fucking roomates with a 13 year old boy. 

“You look shitty?” She says with a slight chuckle. Well that one did hurt. Manly because you spent time this morning making sure you looked presentable for the people you were going to face in class. You didn’t understand why she said it, but whether or not it was supposed to come out as a joke it hurt. “Did I do something or are you just like this with literally everyone.” You say avoiding her gaze. 

“Like?” She says, and this is now the longest you two have had a reciprocating conversation and it’s literally just insults. “Just a fucking prick” You say grabbing your bag and a protein bar. Luckily for you this time she didn't respond, her eyebrows slightly furrowed at your comment and you can tell it definitely struck a nerve. She just leaves the kitchen island and sits on the couch. And that was your invitation to also leave. You couldn’t be bothered to pursue this conversation any longer so you left and caught a taxi to your University. 

(Ellies Pov)

Yesterday

“I don’t wanna go to a fucking party man” Ellie groans looking at Dina as she continues to beg. “Ellie just come onnnnn! Come to the party, forget about Cat and actually go out!” Ellie catches your gaze and talks directly at you “Can I fucking help you?” Ellie says getting followed up with a hard nudge from Dina “You don’t always need to be a dick!” Ellie watches as you trip over your feet stumbling out of the apartment with a red face, clearly embarrassed. “What’s your issue?” Dina says, turning Ellies concentration straight back on her. “Nothing!” Ellie says, trying to defend her shitty behaviour. “You realize you dont always have to be fucking passive” Dina says looking at Ellie, as Ellies desperately trying avoid it. “I'm not being passive?!” Dina scoffs and puts on a deep voice trying to mock her “Can I fucking help you?” Dina says, looking at Ellie. “Literally coming from the same girl who sleeps with a dinosaur stuffed animal” Dina laughs, causing Ellie to defensively shake her head. “What the fuck! No I don't!” Dina nods and talks again “Ellie just come to the party she won’t even be there!” 

“Cat suddenly doesn’t come to parties?” Ellie shakes her head looking at Dina. “She won't be at this one! Just pleaseeee!!! School is gonna start then you’re going to complain because you missed this party.” Ellie cracks out a little smile and finally nod “Fuck okay okay! 

That led Ellie to the point she is now, in a taxi with Dina and Jesse. “It’s gonna be funn!” Dina smiles reassuring Ellie, which clearly doesn’t work because Ellies shakes her head “I think we got different meanings of fun Dina.” Dina shakes her and looks at Jesse and nudges him “Jesse you convince her. “Dude just put on a smile and once we get some shots in you it will be fine. We’re gonna have fun!” Ellie just smiles at the pair and nods. “Alrightttt!” They both smile at Ellie finally cracking a smile. “Yess!” Dina says. 

The night was smooth sailing for most of the time, when Ellie got some shots in her the tenseness of the night sorta just faded and it allowed her to actually enjoy the night. Ellie even flirted with a couple girls which was rare. I mean it didn’t lead anywhere because she 100% wasn’t ready for that, but it was nice. Especially after Cat. 

And just as Ellie thought the night was going well and she was talking to a girl there was a light tap on the shoulder and she was met with the same brown eyes that she spent almost a full year with. 

Fucking cat.  

“Hey sun..” Cat says. And Ellie couldn’t help but cringe at the words. Sun, that’s what Cat always called Ellie when they were dating, and now that they 100% weren’t dating, it sorta just felt like a fresh wound. Ellie is a bit drunk (Really drunk) but she quickly spits out some words “Don’t call me that Cat.” Cat almost seems dumbfounded at Ellies words, like she couldn’t process the fact Ellie didn’t wanna get called some corny fucking pet name. 

“Okay..sorry. It’s like I always used to call you that?-” Cat says looking at Ellie trying to meet her green eyes but Ellie refuses to make eye contact. “Yeah, fucking used to. Just fu-” Dina quickly jumps in noticing Ellies hands are clenched and that nothing well is going to resolve from this conversation. “Hey Els go get some air with Jesse!” Dina quickly suggest signalling jesse over with a tilt of her head which causes him to walk over “Go take Ellie outside real quick please” He just smiles and nods, taking Ellie by the shoulder as she stumbles over her feet.

“Cat stop trying to talk to her. It’s still fresh and you’re acting like you breaking up with her was some game, okay you two are over and you made that decision.” Dina says sternly once Ellie and Jesse are outside. And Cat shakes her head fast. “I-I’m not even acting like it was some game?” Cat says getting defensive “I said we should take a break!” Cat says looking at Dina. “Then you fucking kissed a girl infront of her!” Dina says now also getting annoyed. The fact Cat wasn’t cluing into the fact she hurt Ellie was getting old. “Leave Ellie the fuck alone Cat” Dina says leaving the house to go meet up with Jesse and Ellie. 

“Is she okay?” Dina asks, looking at Ellie as she leans her head on his shoulder. Jesse looks at Dina and shrugs. “Other than the fact she just threw up 3 times I think she's okay!” He chuckles sarcastically. “Deal with Cat?” He asks as him and Dina now hold Ellie up. “Fuck shes unsufferable, but yeah, I think she got the message this time.”

This is what leads Dina and Jesse to drag and Ellie back to her shared apartment with you. They quickly open the door without knocking and Dina instantly notices your slightly panicked face “Hi” Dina says with a very drunk Ellie on her shoulder, Dina lets down Ellie lightly on the couch and Ellies body falls limp.

This is when Dina clues in you two haven’t properly met. “I’m Dina, this is Jesse, we're friends of Ellie.” Dina smiles and nudges Jesse which leads him to shake your hand softly. Dina and Jesse quickly learned your name as you followed up by telling them with a smile before you decide to talk again.. “Is she okay?”

Dina heard how your voice was soft. She wanted to give you props for even caring considering what Ellie said earlier to you  “Oh yeah, she's just- she went a bit overboard tonight!” Jesse sorta chuckles “Cat situation clearly got her worked up” They both noticed how your eyebrows furrowed clearly thinking about something but they didn’t think it was important to mention.

Dina breaks the awkward ass silence saying “Well! We should get going It’s late and all and we got morning classes”

You nodded to her words and said “Fuck tell me about it” You smiled looking at them before talking “It was nice to meet you guys.” You smile nodding looking at them and Dina and Jesse both smile giving you a nice “Yeah you too” 

Ellie’s night was shit, she woke up on the couch around 4am and noticed Dina and Jesse were nowhere to be seen. Since she woke up at 4am she did make it back into her bedroom but regardless the next morning her hangover was horrible. As she leaves her room she notices you walk out at the exact same fucking time. Great! It was followed by an awkward stare. Ellie noticed you must have gotten up early because you were put together but she would say that. Considering her night was shitty and you both were looking at each other like a deer lost in headlights she comes up with the bright idea to say “I heard if you take a picture it will last longer?” I mean it was harsh but it was easy!

You turned on your heel without giving Ellie a reaction which left her puzzled. I mean she didn’t do it for a reaction but the fact you didn’t give her one was weird. She sees you walk to the kitchen island and grab your bag. Again Ellie’s mouth thought way faster than her thoughts. “You look shitty?” She says it with a slight chuckle. I mean she didn’t mean it but now she was curious if you would break. 

And this time you did. Your eyebrows furrowed and she saw how her words actually affected you. Your eyes just looked more sad when she said those words. “Did I do something or are you just like this with literally everyone.” Ellie quickly picks up on how you’re avoiding her gaze, which works in her favor because if you did end up making eye contact with her you would see how her eyes faltered for a split second showing an ounce of sympathy.  

“Like?” Ellie says trying to keep up this shitty tough persona which really makes her come off as “Just a fucking prick” It’s like you finished what she was thinking and she didn’t like it. Because it’s one thing to act like one but now that it was brought to her attention it was like something she just really didn’t want to hear. 

This leads Ellie to get embarrassed on the fact you actually did call her out, she quickly turns her head facing away from you which was on purpose and she sat down on the couch which faces the tv. She hears your footsteps getting closer to the door and way more distance. Then there's a final slam of the door. You’re gone now.

Ellie’s not even looking at the tv, just straight ahead, because not only does she have a new roommate. But you fully were willing to actually call her out without a second thought.

Which Ellie doesn't like. 

A/N -> HI! I feel like I have to apologize for literally leaving for like a month but I have had almost 0 motivation to write.

School has me really busy so it’s sorta just consuming all my free time. I also realized in my first fic I rushed to get the parts out which made the whole process of making them less enjoyable!

That being said for this one i’m not going to force myself to write I’m going to do it on my accord! (but that doesn’t mean each part is gonna take like a month btw!)

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this because I did enjoy making/ coming up with the plot. And I promise in future chapters it will get more interesting 😭 (let’s also not talk about how the reader didn’t know ellie’s name till they moved in, which I know is unrealistic asf!)

This is really just to start it off making sure the plot is understandable. 🫶🏽

[ahegato]

[NSFW] Obey Me - fem!MC first time with Asmodeus

m.list

TW: nsfw, first time sex, loss of virginity, swearing Characters: assmodeus Writer: ahegato

Context:  The MC would probably be pretty nervous since it’s the first time and stuff like that. Idk I lost my virginity when I was like 17 and now I’m really old, so I barely remember it. I just recall worrying about the pain while also knowing it was common, that’s about it lol

You/your pronouns, so basically gender neutral, bUT MC will have female bits.

lucifer (cumming soon) | mammon | leviathan | satan | asmodeus (ur here) | beelzebub (cumming soon) | belphegor (cumming soon) | diavolo (cumming soon) | barbatos (cumming soon) | simeon (cumming soon) | solomon

ASMODEUS:

the wisest one of the bunch on the topic, to no one’s surprise

he’s the literal avatar of lust, and he’s probably taken a bunch of virginities before

assy boy knows what to do to make things easier for you

he doesn’t want things to feel forced or pressured, so he tries to keep it lighthearted by being sweet and goofy

makes sure you’re completely relaxed through the process

if he notices that you’re getting anxious, he’ll pause and snuggle with you for a bit

and if you feel bad for pausing, he’ll be right there and reassure you that it’s okay

if you were to change your mind about doing it today, he would have no issues with it

he’s not together with you for the sex, he’s with you because he genuinely loves you, and he’s determined to prove it to you

again, he may be the avatar of lust, but he’s also the avatar of intimacy, of any kind

if you want to please him, he’ll give you instructions and be encouraging, reassuring you that you don’t have to be good right away and that he appreciates you just trying

“Relax, sweetie.” Asmodeus whispers as he slowly inserts himself inside of you. He lets out a moan once he’s all the way in, and he reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek. He continues to coo loving words to you, reassuring you that the pain is gonna go away soon, and that it’s going to feel so good after that - and he’s right.

Just like he said, the pain begins to fade when you’ve adjusted to his size. Once you give him the go ahead, he moves out of you, leaving you feeling surprisingly empty, to then slowly go back in, earning a small moan from you.

“You feel so good...” he moans through a sigh, changing the angle of his thrust, hitting you at the sweetest spot. 

He’ll do whatever you say. Wanna go faster? Sure thing. Want it harder? Absolutely! He trusts that you’ll tell him if anything feels off, as he’s always made sure that you feel like you can be open to him, so he has no issues getting a little rougher if that’s what you want. Not to mention again, but he’s the avatar of lust. He can tell if you’re genuinely enjoying it or not, and he has no doubts that you definitely are. The way you’re pulling him towards you with your legs wrapped around his waist, and how you’re hugging his dick even tighter than before.

When he feels himself getting close he slows down, much to your disappointment, and he chuckles at the displeased look on your face.

“Come here, I would like to try something.” 

Once you agree, he’ll pull you closer before laying the both of you down on your sides, his legs in between yours. He enters you again, snakes his arms around your back, before beginning to roughly thrust into you, the new position getting him even deeper and driving you absolutely nuts.

He lets out a short moan every time he pushes into you, the sound of your skin slapping against each other driving him wild, and he’s instinctively hugging you tighter.

“I...I’m about to cum...” he whimpers, slowing down a little to give you time to react.

It’s completely up to you where he finishes, whether it be inside you or on you. Afterwards you’ll probably be rather tired, so he’ll help you get cleaned up, and then he’ll snuggle with you in bed until you both fall asleep.

✦ written 04/2024, posted 22/05/2024 ✦ ahegato ✦

[thelov3lybookworm]

Are You Flirting?

modern!au

Summary: Who's the cute guy she was talking about last night?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 4863

Warnings: flirty lucien, shy reader but shes like 'yknow what fuck shyness lets flirt back' lmaoo

A/n: yall i need you to know. the reader is based on me. shes literally me. i crochet too if yal didnt know hehe. this was so fun to write like it felt like wring my own story except this shit never happened irl lol.

idk ill stop rambling now 😂

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYY 🥹

p.s: id say the credit for this idea goes to my bestie boo @berryzxx because she put me on the song that i used as inspo for tis fic and also bullying me into writing for that song. ily lots pooks 🤭

(based on an indian song 👀)

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The moment Y/n got the text from her college best friend Feyre, Y/n knew having picked up crocheting as a hobby was the best thing she could ever have done.

Exaggerating aside, she was excited when Feyre asked her if she wanted to reconnect after two years of not talking, and Y/n said yes without hesitation.

They hadn’t talked much, only ever interacting with each other’s instagram posts and stories. Feyre was too busy most of the time painting and opening her own gallery to display her art, taking commissions sometimes and travelling with her fiance.

And even though Y/n had wanted to stay in touch, being an upcoming writer, she did not get too much time to talk as she was busy writing all the time, and when she wasn’t, she was lying in bed wondering why she was in a slump.

Hence, she had picked up crocheting as a new hobby and made some pretty cute tops, imagining herself wearing them to a beach or somewhere pretty. She had been thinking of going somewhere as a vacation to clear her mind.

Which was why when Feyre suggested flying to some beach island her fiance owned for a little getaway with friends, Y/n could not contain her excitement.

Now as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, trying to pick between the two outfits in her hand, wondering which one to wear, she wished she had a boyfriend. Or a husband. Or something. She had always been an indecisive person, and at moments such as this, she wished someone could help her pick her outfits.

Feyre was probably on her way and here Y/n stood, wondering which one to wear and which one to put in her bag to wear the next day.

Ughh fuck me.

Finally, she settled on a pastel pink cardigan and a white halter top with a white bell bottom jeans. She wanted to make a good impression on Feyre’s new friends and decided that the safer option was better. She could wear the other one after she got more comfortable with them.

She had never even met Feyre’s fiance. The two had met and gotten engaged after Y/n and Feyre drifted apart, but Y/n had congratulated her friend on her insta post, so surely that counted as something?

Now that reminder had her reconsidering. Was going vacationing with people she did not know really the best idea?

I mean, what if one of them is a serial killer? What if one of them is suicidal and kills us all-

Maybe she should just cancel.

She was eyeing her phone, genuinely wondering if she should go, when the screen lit up and Feyre’s name flashed across the screen, the soft lilting sound of Y/n’s ringtone filling the air.

So it was decided. Y/n was going.

Y/n answered the call while simultaneously shouldering her bag. "Hello?"

Feyre’s excited voice screeched in her ear from the other end. "Y/n! I’m under your apartment now. Are you ready?"

Instantly, her mood became better and Y/n wondered why she ever considered refusing to go in the first place. Even if she was a stranger to Feyre’s friends, she still had Feyre. She was sure it wouldn’t be as awkward as she was expecting it to be.

Straightening, she glanced around her room for a final time before nodding to herself, confirming that she was not forgetting anything. "Yes, babe. As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m coming down."

Feyre squealed, and Y/n could hear chuckles from the background at her friend’s antics. "I can't wait!"

With that, Y/n ended the call and walked out of her apartment, closing the door behind her, focusing on the jingle of her keychain and not on the nervousness running through her veins.

Soon, as she walked out of the elevator on the ground floor, she spied two dark cars waiting outside. It made her hurry. The moment she exited, she spied her friend leaving the car, grinning.

Feyre ran the short distance to Y/n, throwing all her body weight onto her friend, making Y/n giggle.

"Calm down Fey! I’m not going anywhere."

Feyre pulled away with a wide grin, shaking her head, then grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her back to the car she had exited.

"We're a total of ten people, five in that car-" she pointed to the one standing behind the one she had exited- "and five of us in this one." Y/n nodded, trying to calm her nerves.

Feyre then got in, leaving Y/n to get in the back. Feyre’s fiance was sitting in the driver’s seat, black aviation glasses perched on his nose. He offered Y/n a warm smile and a wave before Feyre piped up.

"Y/n, this is my fiance Rhysand. That is Azriel, Rhys’s foster brother and his girlfriend, Gwyneth."

Y/n dipped her head in a polite nod to the couple sharing the back seat with her, but Gwyneth had no qualms about hugging Y/n. Y/n was surprised to say the least by the sudden affectionate action, but she returned it nonetheless with a wide grin.

"Nice to meet you all."

"Everyone, this is my best friend from university, as well as my then roommate, Y/n."

Azriel gave her a tiny smile, his loving gaze returning to his girlfriend not a moment later.

It made Y/n want to go aww, because if that was not pure love right there, then Y/n did not know what was. It made her long to have someone of her own.

Rhys started the car, and the first ten minutes passed in comfortable silence. And then Feyre spoke.

"So, Y/n. Please tell me you’re seeing someone."

Y/n sighed. "You would’ve been the first person to know had I been."

Feyre twisted to glare at Y/n.

"What?"

"Why are you still single?"

"Haven’t found the one yet."

Feyre contemplated for a moment, then grinned. "You know, I’ve got a friend-"

"Not again Feyre!" Y/n turned to Gwyneth. "You know, she would send me on dates with these random dudes every day-"

"Not every day!"

Y/n glared at her friend in jest. "Only because I bullied you to leave me alone."

Feyre sighed dramatically, then plopped back into her seat. "You’re mean."

Gwyn snickered. "Why did you not end up with any of them then?"

Y/n shook her head solemnly. "They were all either too arrogant or ugly."

That made everyone laugh, and finally, Azriel spoke up. "And how did you find so many guys, Feyre?"

Y/n perked up. "I want to know too! I always wondered if she went to asylums to get me a worse specimen than the last."

"Oh my god Y/n, they were just guys from our university and the neighbouring ones."

Y/n smiled. It was fun being around her friend again. It felt like the never stopped talking, picking up from where they left off.

"You know, we’ve got three single people in the other car."

Y/n dropped her head in her palm, and Gwyn cackled.

"Come on Y/n, they’re not that bad. One of them is a guy, but the other two are women. You can experiment if that’s what you want. Maybe that’s the reason you never connected with any guys I set you up with."

Y/n made a crying face and leaned her head against Gwyn, who continued to vibrate with silent laughter. "God help me."

Eventually, Feyre dropped the topic, ending up talking about random nonsense after that. Azriel also chimed in sometimes, but mostly it was either Feyre and Rhysand talking and Gwyn and Y/n laughing and giving unwanted commentary.

They had to take two helicopters to the island, which had Y/n wondering just how big of a jackpot Feyre had gotten engaged to. The ride to the beach home from the helipad after was again two cars.

While boarding the helicopter, Y/n had spied the other friends of Feyre and Rhysand getting out of their car, but she had averted her gaze when the redheaded man had turned to look, hoping she didn’t seem like a creep while she had been trying to take a look at their faces.

The ride to the beach house, as they called it, was silent because Y/n, Gwyn and Feyre dozed off for most of it, already tired after so much travelling. And before they knew it, the midday sun shone through the windows of the car as it finally stopped in the gated compound of a mansion that looked straight out of architectural digest.

Y/n could not stop gaping at it as she got out of the car, then turned to hold the door open for Gwyn.

"It’s so big and beautiful." Gwyn commented, her eyes too fixed on the two story structure. Y/n shot her a knowing look.

"I know right? Only seen stuff like this in the movies."

The two shared a giggle before Azriel joined them on their side and the trio followed Rhysand and Feyre to the main doors.

Rhysand had just climbed the top step when the doors opened, two ladies with long black hair cascading down their backs standing behind them, and Y/n decided that they were twins.

"Nuala, Cerridwen." Rhysand nodded at them with a smile, then turned to the people standing behind him when the twins left.

"I think it’s best if we freshen up and rest for some time before dinner."

The tall guy who had been driving the other car sighed dramatically, burying his head in Nesta’s shoulder. "Thank god, I am tired."

Nesta rolled her eyes, then smiled at Y/n. Being Feyre’s roommate, Y/n had met Nesta on multiple occasions and admired the woman a lot. Nesta, too, had always looked after Y/n like a sister when the three would go out to dinner.

"Y/n. How are you?"

Y/n dipped her head, then stepped forward and pulled Nesta into a hug. "I’m good. Your fiance?"

Nesta nodded, glancing at the hulk of a man. "This is Cassian. Cass, this is-"

"Y/n, heard a lot ‘bout ya." He grinned, extending his hand for a shake.

Y/n smiled at him, then turned back to Nesta and Feyre as the latter began speaking. "Y/n, this is Elain, my other sister. Mor, Rhysand’s cousin, and Lucien, my friend."

After everyone had been introduced, all of them retreated to their rooms. It seemed like they had these outings a lot, because the way everyone was so familiar with the layout of the house would have been uncanny had this been their first time here.

Except for Lucien. He seemed a little hesitant, lingering back with Y/n as everyone else left. But then Feyre directed the two to the upper floor, where two guest rooms were waiting for them.

The rooms were next to each other, so Y/n and Lucien were together till the very last moment. It gave Y/n a lot of time to admire the man’s attractiveness through stolen glances, and she wished it did not for she was not able to control the movement of her jaw that kept unhinging every chance it got at the sheer beauty of him.

Gosh, if he is the guy Feyre wants to set me up with, I am truly going to be blessed.

As the two finally reached the top step, Lucien glanced at Y/n.

"First time here?"

"Yup. In fact, I’m seeing Fey for the first time since we finished uni."

His brows rose. "Damn. How long has it been?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Around two years. What about you? Your first time too?"

He nodded, then paused at the first door to meet her eyes when he answered. "I’ve recently started getting along with her family." he thought for a moment, then leaned closer, as if letting her in on a secret. "I was actually the friend of her previous boyfriend, but none of them liked him and so they didn’t trust me much either. But now they’re moving on and so am I."

Y/n did not know how to respond to that, trying to wrap her mind around how anyone could be mad at someone who seemed as nice as Lucien. But he spared her the struggle.

"That’s a nice cardigan. Where’d you get it from?" His eyes travelled down her body, his gaze appreciative as it landed on the pastel crocheted garment. "Maybe I could get a similar one. We can match."

Y/n blinked at him, then ducked her head, futilely trying to hide her blush.

"Um, I made it myself."

He remained silent for a moment, prompting her to meet his gaze once again.

"You’re kidding."

She blinked again. "Why would I?"

He huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the doorframe. "So, you’re telling me you’re pretty and talented?"

Y/n could not move if she wanted to. She could not think. She could not do anything but stare at him.

This man, one who looked like he belonged on the cover of vogue, was telling her she was pretty?

God help me.

She looked around, flustered by the tiny smile blooming on his face, cocky but also knowing. He knew the effect he had on her and the damned man was enjoying it too much.

"Well, I will let you rest now. After all, you need to get some energy back for later tonight."

If those words had come from anyone else, Y/n would have wondered if they were saying she looked tired and like shit, but coming from him, the words were nothing but caring, if a touch flirtatious.

Wait, was that an innuendo?

She did not have time to dwell on that part much before he stepped aside, swiping his arm toward the door behind him. "Take a look at both rooms, then pick one you want. I will wait."

Y/n dipped her head, trying not to blush even more when he opened the door for her and leaned back, letting her pass.

She was much too flustered to even look around the room, let alone see if she liked it or wanted the other room, so she just mumbled to him that she will stay in this one, that he could take the other room.

Y/n knew he was about to ask her if she was sure, but whatever he saw in her face had him nodding, stepping back out of the room, tugging the door close with him as he went.

"See you soon, sweetheart." His parting words were heavy with the same knowing lilt he had a few minutes back when he had been flirting with her. It made Y/n’s cheeks heat up, and she turned to the bed, plopping down and burying her face in the plush pillows.

He was flirting with me.

Maybe… Feyre was right about him. Maybe I should give him a chance.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

After a light lunch and a few hours of rest, everyone had simultaneously gathered in the living room as if summoned by a silent command. Y/n had tried to sleep, and had accomplished the feat, but at the cost of tossing and turning every five minutes for an hour, her mind refusing to let her wind down and repeatedly playing the memories of Lucien flirting.

At least, she thought he was flirting. Y/n hoped she was not making a fool of herself for thinking that he was flirting while he simply was being kind.

She had gotten all of two hours of sleep before she shoved the covers off of her and decided to take a shower to freshen up, then she had proceeded to don a flowy sundress and walked downstairs. The hallways were empty, the only sign that she was not alone being the twins in the kitchen. They offered Y/n a smile before introducing themselves, then asked her if she needed anything.

Y/n had thought about it, then shook her head, telling them she just wanted to get some water. They graciously handed her a glass of it, despite her protests, and then they left her to her own devices.

She had just been sipping on it while staring at the sun setting when footsteps behind her let her know she was no longer alone, and she turned to look at Morrigan and Elain, who had walked down together. They offered her a smile, then sat along with her at the counter in swivelling chairs, the quiet comfortable and peaceful.

That was, before Cassian decided to grace them with his presence.

"Are Feyre and Rhys still not here?"

Y/n blinked, tearing her eyes away from the now violet horizon, barely any sliver of light visible, and gave him a smile. "Not yet."

He gagged. "They’re probably doing nasty stuff."

Nesta walked in with Gwyn and Azriel behind her, her eyebrows high.

"Like you don’t fuck."

He glared at Nesta. "Can you be a little more crass? I am trying to make new friends here."

Y/n hid her smile behind her cup, but considering it was a clear glass, she did not think it would work very well.

"So Y/n, what do you do during free time?"

Y/n set her now empty cup aside, turning all her attention to Cassian, who was done bickering with his fiance.

"I do crocheting while listening to podcasts, or I read when I just want to wind down. I also write."

He nodded appreciatively. "So you’re a creative person, huh."

"And she has a very pretty smile too."

Y/n felt her cheeks heating up already when she heard Lucien’s voice, but when she finally comprehended what he had said, she wondered if she’d just melt off.

God. Please, help me.

She tried not to meet his eyes, because even knowing him for barely a few hours, she knew he’d give her a knowing smirk, his eyes bright.

Cassian chuckled, and Y/n could feel everyone’s eyes on her.

Fuck.

Thankfully, Feyre and Rhysand finally arrived and took the attention away from her, and she felt like she could finally breathe again.

The couple asked what everyone wanted for dinner, bickering around for a few moments while Lucien, Elain, Azriel and Y/n watched.

Before long, Mor announced she was craving some barbecue, and when no one argued further, Rhys told everyone to gather on the back porch that faced the beach while he got the things out. When Y/n offered to help along with Feyre and Gwyn, Rhysand just told them to sit back and relax.

And then he dragged the other men with him.

Guess they won’t be getting any relaxing time.

The night passed almost too quickly to be natural, and Y/n already felt like she’d known these people for her whole life. Nesta and Gwyn refused to let anyone else talk to her because they were too busy asking her of all the books she’d read and inquiring whether she was planning on publishing.

Y/n could see Feyre pouting in the corner, but eventually Mor engaged her in a conversation, so Y/n’s guilt at not being able to give her friend enough time subsided.

When Nesta and Gwyn finally got distracted, Y/n leaned back, taking in the cool air when her neck prickled. Looking around, she met the gaze of Lucien from over the glowing barbeque, her cheeks flushing even when he hadn’t said or done anything. But he continued to look at her, the slightest tilt to those inviting lips.

Smug bastard.

When everything was cooked, Rhys called everyone to the outdoor dining table, the wood rich but warm, homey.

Y/n found two seats next to Gwyn, who beckoned her over. She smiled and had just settled down next to her new friend when she realised someone was sitting down next to her on the empty seat.

And it was not Feyre.

Mismatched eyes found her surprised gaze, and Lucien grinned at her.

"Lucien! That was my seat!"

He held eye contact with Y/n for a long moment before turning to a fuming Feyre. "Well, you can sit on my lap, darlin’. But I am already too comfortable in this seat to move."

Feyre huffed, the perfect picture of annoyance. But Y/n could see the glint in her eyes that told her that Feyre was having way too much fun right now watching Y/n blush.

When Feyre turned away to pout at her grinning fiance, Lucien leaned close to Y/n. "Or maybe, you can sit on my lap and I can give this seat to Feyre?"

Y/n turned away, trying to hide the warm flush on her skin at that. "I think Feyre will find herself another seat."

He chuckled quietly but let the topic go after that.

In the end, Feyre sat at the seat on the right of the head seat of the table, next to Lucien. Rhysand sat at the head, opposite Azriel, who occupied the seat on the other side of Gwyn, refusing to leave her side.

Everyone started to serve themselves, but just as Y/n was contemplating what to get, Lucien leaned past her, his scent enveloping her along with his warmth, and grabbed some grilled chicken.

"Try this, it’s good." With that, he put a few pieces on her plate, then continued to serve himself. He seemed so nonchalant, so careless as if he hadn’t just set Y/n’s heart on fire.

Like he wasn’t the reason she could not think straight.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n did not know how the days passed so quickly. Agreed, it was a four day getaway, and yet it felt like barely any time passed and it was already the day they had to return home.

If she had to be honest, she did not want to leave the bed. Her limbs felt like they were tied down, heavy metal placed on top to stop her from moving. She felt so tired, as if her body was trying to stay here just a little longer, and maybe being tired would get her to stay.

Which was the reason why she forced herself to push off the covers and set her legs on the cold, wood floor and traipsed sleepily towards the window to check if she had missed the sunrise again. She had been wanting to watch it since they all arrived, but every day for the past three days, she had slept away without a care.

She’d had to set an additional alarm to wake up earlier.

The sky outside was dark, almost blue. But she knew dawn wasn’t far off.

She hurried to freshen up, then walked down the stairs to get herself a glass of water.

After she had acquired her drink, she stepped out and settled down on the two seater swing on the back porch, under her own room’s balcony. The air was chilly, but not enough to have her want to get up and bring a shawl or something to keep herself warm.

She also felt really lazy as she began sipping on her water slowly.

Gosh, I love water.

She refrained from drinking anything that was not water or milk.

She was also lactose intolerant, but, who really cares about that.

Y/n had just leaned back, wrapping both her hands around her cup when she heard movement behind her. But she let herself relax, knowing it probably was Lucien.

That was one of the many things she’d learned about him in the past days.

He always woke up at dawn. He apparently then did some light gym when he could before breakfast, to keep himself in that drool worthy body.

His words, not mine.

Okay… Maybe mine.

And maybe, just maybe, Y/n had wanted to witness her first ever sunrise, had wanted to wake up earlier even though she disliked being up early just so she could spend some extra time with him.

Maybe.

It didn’t take him long to settle down beside her, his own cup of steaming beverage in hand. It looked like green tea to Y/n, who’d had experience with making it for her father nearly every day.

"Good morning." His voice was rough, the sleep evident in it.

Don’t blush, don't blush. He’s just said good morning.

She blushed. Just a little. "Morning."

"Sleep well?"

Y/n nodded, watching him from her peripherals as the swing dipped slightly with his added weight.

"Still sleepy though. First time I woke up by myself to watch the sunrise." She paused for a moment, glancing at him. His lips were curled to one side as he stared out over the beach, his gaze fixated to the horizon. She shrugged. "Usually it’s by my family dragging me and bullying me into waking up early."

He huffed out a chuckle, but after that let silence settle between them.

The air was so peaceful, it brought a sense of calm over Y/n.

Maybe she could get used to this.

The two sat and watched as the sun rose, so slowly but also too fast. Y/n wished to enjoy this time forever, wanted to continue taking in the soft orange and pink hues that painted the sky as the glowing ball of fire rose higher in the sky. Wanted to bask in the presence that nestled into the pillows next to her, wanted to ink the sound of his soft breathing permanently into her existence.

It was over too soon, and even though Y/n savoured every second of it, she could not help but feel a sense of longing the moment Lucien straightened. She did not want to let go of this moment just yet.

He seemed to think so too.

Just when she thought he’d get up and walk back inside, he turned his head to stare at her.

"So, who’s the cute guy you were talking about last night with Fey?"

Y/n’s lips quirked up, a sudden burst of boldness spurring her on. But she paused as she thought back to Feyre’s words the previous night.

"Do you like him?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh please, I see the way you blush when he’s near. I see the way he follows you around like a lost puppy. I am not naive, sweet pea."

Y/n sighed. "I guess he’s cute."

Feyre squealed. "You need to go on a date with him."

If Y/n gave him the truthful answer, would she be making a fool of herself? Would she be doing herself the biggest favour ever? Did he even like her that way?

Finally, she decided that if she never tried, she might regret it later.

Feeling her gaze on him, she turned, knowing he waited for her answer. He sported a cheeky grin, eyes half lidded, as if he was more relaxed than he’d ever been.

She leaned in conspiratorially.

"You."

His grin faded, and he sat up straighter.

"What?"

"You’re the cute guy we were talking about."

He blinked, and Y/n did her best to hide her smug smile at the way his ears darkened with colour.

"Are you joking or flirting?" he mumbled, brows furrowed.

Oh, so he can flirt, but can’t take the flirting?

She told herself to remember that tidbit for later.

Y/n could not help it then. She let loose the smirk that broke out of her, and leaned closer still, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, so close that she knew that if she were to inhale, his lingering cologne from the previous day would take over every one of her senses.

Maintaining eye contact, she whispered.

"Flirting."

He did not move anything except for his eyes as she stood, his gaze following her like a physical caress. Just before she turned the corner out of his eyesight, she glanced back at him.

And winked.

She watched as a disbelieving grin formed on his lips, and then decided that was enough flirting for a year at least and ascended the stairs back to her room.

Feyre will lose her mind.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, she no longer felt that burst of confidence that came out of nowhere. Suddenly, she was a blushing mess as she shoved her face into the pillows and tried to calm her racing heart.

Her phone pinged then.

Feyre: ‘Lucien just texted me asking for your number. Is it okay if I give it?’

Y/n bit her lip to keep away the flustered smile. Just as she told Feyre to give it to him, she texted back.

Feyre: ‘Is there something I need to know? Why are you up so early anyway?’

Y/n decided that was enough. Feyre could wait.

Who’s the cute guy?

You.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[girlreblogger]

the annoyance with blk y/n and the stories she’s in is hilarious. her characteristics might be the problem one day or her side characters the next. it legit feels like we may never get to a balanced solution on what to do with our own representation since the wrong ppl always talk about it and create it. we have mean and shallow ppl who take over the conversation, ppl who really self hate but try and cover it up with “i just don’t want her to be a stereotype” and then the ones who probably love and support tyler perry movies.

the bottom line is the ppl who do write those niggafying, toxic (it’s a buzzword but that’s what they are) or smutty fics (not talking abt the actual good ones with a blk reader though 🧎🏽‍♀️) can do wtv they want and owe you nothing. that’s why they get so frustrated. i don’t think all the times those should be crucified for what they write when other groups of ppl (or our own) write all kinds of other crazy shit.

and.. i know a lot of ppl who don’t want to say it but y’all keep bringing up the smut and niggafying as the main problem, but i think it’s some of the ppl writing it and their underlings. it’s just no one wants to say anything.

an excerpt from a draft of mine

“a lot of ppl on here be weirdos or mean asl. so when someone block you don’t be like “oh what i did” “they that mad cause of my (internet—fictional—digital on screen) presence”

like nobody got time to go to your acc and say “i don’t like you” who cares. oddly some miserable ppl do actually but still. the lack of awareness is ridiculous. that’s why ppl don’t f with y’all.”

i was talking abt all of tumblr and every other app but it applies here.

from what i see on here, some are just straight up weird, cliquey, and chiesty (if that’s how you spell it) and that’s why ppl be so mad abt those types of books 💀. we also have to acknowledge the amount of overwhelming & honestly damaging blk yn fics (not to be confused with ppls screwed ideas of stereotypical) there are. i understand why ppl write them for personal reasons but when it comes to our own reflections of ourselves as blk women it’s almost hurtful to read some of the things people put “her” through. i mean even her with a white man that use aave and has cornrows is hurtful.. 😔 (i’m trolling now 💀) naw but fr. i personally don’t like reading blk women just being written for smut or going through crazy situations or kinda like.. i don’t wanna say unfulfilling but like.. idk i can’t think of the word. (edit: ppl write blk yn to be in unfulfilling situations) but girl i can watch a tyler perry movie for all that.

again. ppl write these stories for there own personal reasons, relate to them and enjoy them for those reasons as well. that’s why depending! on what it is i don’t think blk writers should be bombarded with hate like that. also ion think smut should be banned like y’all go to far can we just slow down on it … there are some nice ones out there i promise 🧎🏽‍♀️

but in all seriousness there are many other reasons why i feel toxic and smutty fics are popular for blk yn but i don’t think anyone cares to hear that and the conversion will prolly go back to nigga eren somehow which is crazy cause y’all be arguing over a fictional white man.

oh! 😒 i almost forgot 😒 the ppl who are against “ghetto” y/n to try and advocate for more fluffy or like.. normal (healing) stories and from what i see the ppl who are the most up in arms about it in my personal opinion seem to dislike certain parts of blkness that i appreciate personally and so i just straight up disregard their opinions. y/n doesn’t have to “act” (😒) blk but i see ppl get mad about her protecting her hair….. with a bonnet….

sigh, anyway but yeah we need more soft and sweet fics or just like calming ones? but someone gon have to write it! i don’t like this app or my writing all too much so i gave up a while ago.

just like many other blk writers….

gaspp! we should also do like a fluff challenge or sumn where writers do like fluff … march? girl idk so maybe that will trend and all the ppl who spend time arguing and going back and forth with ppl who write stories they don’t like can like idk look for other writers who write soft, normal, fun stories and reblog them or make a list of them. or maybe like possibly write their own stories too????

everyone says the smut fics gets the most likes and they do. that’s why you keep seeing them. so maybe support or refreakingblog the fics that are comforting to you so others can be as well.

i actually made this page to repost softer fics because i was tired of blocking certain tags so i can avoid heavy smut and subtly abuse fics. also pls leave the ppl who niggafy anime characters alone they will not be stopped. i mean we still have ppl who have been calling chris evans jamal since 2020.. calling him that to this date. married and all.

sigh… 2 more days until blk history month ends. maybe next year we can find a balance between “dramatic” and smutty fics and soft and slice of life ones for blk y/n next year. remember this is tumblr too and the ppl writing aren’t even getting paid for this but it’s for the ppl yk.

ppl who are respectful and reblog tho.

muah

[shuaboo]

i usually don’t write on this account but heres some of my little takes on bf!gyuvin 🥹

lowercase intended // cw: fluff, sfw, i think these r called hcs idk, non-idol au so the members are just referred to as his friends, kind of all over the place and unorganized, sorry if this is bad im new to this, shitty writing because i’m seriously not a writer at all. 😭

bf!gyuvin who treats you like a princess and is literally the winner of the kindest cutest boyfriend award every single year 🥹✋🏻

no, seriously. i feel like his language is acts of service and he would absolutely do anything for you if it is in his capabilities.

gyuvin carries a bigger sized bag so you can carry your little purse that barely fits your phone and lip gloss. he also keeps a hair tie on his wrist or has a hair claw on the strap just incase you need one while you’re on a food date together.

when you get tired from walking and your feet start to hurt from your shoes, gyuvin will guide you (maybe even carry you) by the waist so you don’t struggle as much. probably also keeps comfortable shoes for you in his car since he doesn’t expect that this is the last time it will happen.

speaking of shoes, gyuvin is constantly checking your shoelaces. when he sees that they have gone undone he’ll stop you from walking and tie them up for you.

gyuvin who always holds your hand or has a hand on your waist when you’re in a crowded place, because the last thing he’d want is to lose you.

if you and gyuvin do lose each other in a crowded space, he would definitely panic and look around for you. he’d give you a call asking where you are in the most panicked tone. you’d have to calm him down and tell him that you see him, since he’s so tall that he practically towers over everyone else in the area. god bless this man ☹️

whenever you and gyuvin get food, he always asks if you want to try some of what he ordered. he’s such a sweetheart, kindly asking you and then feeding you his food if you agree to try some. i also firmly believe that if the food is still hot, gyuvin will blow on the food so you don’t burn yourself when you take a bite.

gyuvin who always brags about you to his friends. he really can’t help it, he’s so happy to have you that he always yaps about you and your dates to his friends. they tease him simply for being a man in love and beg him to let them meet you :).

when you do meet gyuvin’s friends, it legitimately might be the funniest day of your life, and maybe the worst day for gyuvin. they tell you about some of his embarrassing moments, and you all have a good laugh about it.

…except for gyuvin. he’s beside you 100% pouting and sulking at the reminder of his embarrassing mistakes in the past. oh, plz keep your attention on him as well ! ! ! he might start feeling a bit left out if you have too much fun with his friends. make sure that he’s comfortable and that he’s still smiling. you don’t want to end up with a sulky, jealous, sad boyfriend :’c. give him a peck on the cheek and squeeze his hand so that he smiles again :].

gyuvin who whines about how embarrassing it was that his friends exposed him to you while walking you home hand in hand, and you just laugh at his whining. hes secretly smiling to himself because he made you laugh, even if it kinda cost him his dignity. but hey, at least you’re laughing and you’re happy.

gyuvin who kisses you on the forehead, cheek, and lips and gives you a tight hug when you reach your home before leaving you.

gyuvin who facetimes you as soon as hes a few meters away from your house because he already misses you.

bf!gyuvin who is your constant reminder that pure and true love does exist.

sorry it became kind of a scenario at the end lol, this is also like way too long HAHAHHAHA😅😭

pls lmk if this is ok😭😭 i had a lot of fun writing this and i would love to write more

[ironunderstands]

AAAAAAAAA

Genuinely I feel annoying as fuck for saying this but like I can’t stand the way anybody else but me or my mutuals writes Aventio/Ratiorine 90% of the time

So, to vent my frustration, here’s a not in order at all bulleted list of stuff I absolutely despise when seeing content of them. This is not to call ppl out or anything, I just wanna rant about my preferences lol

oh and cw: mentions of slavery, nsfw, suicidal tendencies and non-con

-one or both of them being way to horny/flirty

Maybe this could work in content with an established relationship, but like, these guys don’t fuck, I’m sorry, they don’t. They are the biggest virgin losers ever regardless of if they have had sex in the past or not. Some of yall don’t get that they were acting in Penacony for the most part and Aventurine’s flirtiness didn’t have any weight behind it, he was really just messing with Ratio. I think if he were seriously trying to court Ratio, he’d probably be LESS flirty, but that’s just me. I understand why people make nsfw of them without any kinda buildup because well it’s fun, but for me personally I don’t really like it 90% of the time, however I fully get this is a me thing. I can tolerate it more in fanart bc well it’s fanart so yeah there’s not gonna be 3000k words of lore behind it, but like if I’m reading a fic and Aventio go from not even being in a relationship to having sex on a whim it just confuses me.

-yandere anything

I despise this trope already but it makes me 100000x more annoyed because holy shit neither of them would be a yandere I get it some people like this but WHYY THEMMM it doesn’t make sense. Yandere Aventurine makes me even more mad bc why the fuck would he make someone suffer like he did when he was younger???

-emotionless Ratio

Idk why half the community treats Ratio like he’s an unfeeling logic robot who’s sole goal is knowledge even when the game beats you over the head about how he’s the exact fucking opposite of that, but honestly I think this is just a symptom of the fact that a lot of ratiorine writers don’t give two fucks about him at all and he’s practically written as a plot device for Aventurine’s characterization.

-misunderstanding why Ratio is a tsundere

I’ve seen a lot of people misinterpret how and why Ratio is a tsundere towards Aventurine, citing it as if he doesn’t want to be associated with him/looks down upon him/is ashamed to like him when that’s really not true at all. Ratio respects and cares about Aventurine a hell of a lot, and he isn’t shy at all to show it when it’s necessary (see DSAIWYTBOL or the “if you can’t hold on any longer then tell me”). However, the reason he pushes away Aventurine isn’t exactly personal (although Aventurine’s closeness to him is part of the reason why).

Rather, Ratio tends to downplay his close relationships a lot, likely as a defense mechanism, as he admits himself that he isn’t good with people in one of the dialogue options with trailblazer for the express visits. Now why he is this way is a subject of speculation because Ratio rarely ever talks about himself, and the only character who actually has a voiceline on him is Aventurine himself, so it’s very hard to get an outside perspective on him. His character stories don’t really help that much either, as they are more about his personal philosophy and journey in life rather than his personality.

However, taking what Ratio says towards Aventurine at face value when he has proven the opposite (especially considering how the trope of the tsundere is kinda centered on the character in question spouting bullshit) results in people completely misunderstanding their relationship which can get REALLY annoying. Ratio doesn’t think Aventurine is an idiot in the slightest, he just worries about how his methods put himself in danger, not his capabilities.

-fast burn

You’re telling me these emotionally constipated idiots will get together easily? No. There’s a reason I write the most crazy bullshit happening to them before a confession scene and that’s because that’s the only way you can get them to confront their goddamn feelings quickly.

-slavery aus/anything like this

Self explanatory. If you have fetishized Aventurine’s past or made stuff like this please stay 1000 feet away from me at all times or block me. Thank you 🙏

-babying Aventurine

He’s one of the most competent members of the cast, but somehow people act like his breakdown scene in 2.1 is how he behaves 24/7 when that isn’t true at all. Aventurine is incredibly smart, and single-handedly clawed his way to the top. He does not need Ratio to save him. Would he appreciate Ratio’s support? Of course, and he definitely needs loving relationships in his life, but Aventurine isn’t a damsel in distress and not everything in his life is miserable and related to his trauma.

-or the horrible reverse of babying Aventurine: his trauma doesn’t exist actually and he’s perfectly fine/ they write him like it never happened

This one is rather rare and it has overlap with a few of the other points (seriously I’m gonna tweak out the next time someone writes the character who is implied to have survived sex trafficking being a person who would even dream of crossing others boundaries). Usually this happens because people treat Aventurine’s playboy mask as if it’s his actual personality and not traits he picked up to survive and succeed at his goals, and while admittedly even Aventurine is losing track of where the mask ends and he begins, some of y’all take it wayy to far even going on to unironically call him a fuckboy when he’s anything but that. The thing is, I think this happens when people erase who Kakavasha is from their minds, and act as if that side of Aventurine is a purely innocent child and all the “bad” parts of him are part of Aventurine’s mask. However, that’s not true, and Aventurine’s most admirable traits ARE Kakavasha’s. His strategicness, his intellegence, his bravery, these are all traits he possessed long before becoming Aventurine of stratagems, something which he demonstrated when he for example got his sisters neckless back, or made that bet with his first enslaver.

Aventurine’s purity and Aventurine’s capabilities are not separated between Kakavasha and Aventurine of Stratagems, both of those qualities ARE Kakavasha’s so if you are going to write him with the mask off, you have to write BOTH, not give into one or the other.

The things I tend to drop when writing him with the mask off are his false compliments and niceties, acting like he really gives a shit about the IPC’s goals, turning down the flamboyance and cockiness to reasonable levels and making him seem less like he’s playing pretend. Honestly I don’t think it’s that hard yet this is still a pitfall I see a lot of people stumbling into.

-Ratio talking like a goddamn encyclopedia

I understand he’s like that sometimes, but he also is well versed in internet lingo and seriously nobody unironically talks like that 24/7 because it’s pointless, and Ratio doesn’t use big words to seem smart, he uses them when they are necessary.

Like I’m sorry but if they are in a middle of having sex and unprompted Ratio starts talking like a biology textbook I’m closing the fic and running around my room screaming BECAUSE GOD IS IT CRINGE. Promoted it can be funny because yeah I can see him doing that but oh my god HE WOULD NOT SAY THAT I don’t even want to give an example it pisses me off that bad but trust me it’s a common phenomenon AND I HATE IT

-Aventurine trying to kill himself 24/7

He isn’t an active suicide risk every goddamn day of his life, he’s just self destructive and those are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS.

Yes, he tested if you could die in the dreamscape several times, but that’s because one of the favorable outcomes for his mission WOULD BE DYING in the dreamscape. He’s not doing this during a normal work week and even if I believe he still has suicidal tendencies, he’s not gonna throw his life away randomly or over nothing

-Ratio holds authority over Aventurine in any capacity

No, just no. Like the only other thing he might have over him is being intelligent, although they both are smart at different things so even then does it matter? Like I’m sorry but normal human with the ability to float and make imaginary constructs versus LITERAL FUCKING STONEHEART is not a fair fight on Ratio’s end. It doesn’t matter that he’s physically larger than Aventurine, muscles don’t mean shit in a sci-fi setting, especially when your opponent can just summon 3 bajillion coins to drop into your head at a whim and there’s nothing you can do about it. Not like Aventurine would ever dream of hurting him, of course, but seriously people need to stop acting like their different in stature really means anything. Even in terms of position, Aventurine probably outranks him so this false sense of authority people apply to Ratio in their relationship is confusing at best.

Hmm, well that’s all the things I remember to bitch about although I probably have more complaints. To be fair, whenever they aren’t written like incredibly smart people who are idiots hopelessly in love with one another when together I pop a blood vessel so most of these (besides THAT one) are non issues and if you have made/enjoyed these don’t feel ashamed because of my opinions. I needed to let out my inner grinch every once and awhile, so thanks for reading

[yorshie]

Heyy idk if you've already done it but can I request clothes that the bayverse boys just love seeing you in? Like besides lingerie (though who doesn't like a cute lingerie) I mean like more mundanish things. A certain pair of shorts/pants/skirt, a certain dress or top, a certain color of clothing. Something along those lines, yk?

Maybe it accentuates a certain part of your body, maybe he just thinks it looks cute. Idk. It doesn't necessarily turn him on (although... hehe) He just can't tear his eyes away/stop stealing glances the second he sees it, and you just know he's getting extra flustered if you catch him gawking 🤭

Hey Nonnie! Thank you for sending this in, I had a lot of fun imagining what each one of the turtles would like- I even asked some other writers what their thoughts were because it was such a fun ask!

The ask I sent to another writer - oops forgot to add this so the context makes sense lol

Donatello

DonBon gets flustered whenever he sees you in his color. He’s not partial to a particular way of dress in the grand scheme of things, as long as it’s some shade of purple, you’ve got his attention. But the thing that would really draw him to a complete stop, is glasses. Even if you donned a lens free pair, he’s going to stop and do a double glance, taken by the way the frames bring attention to your eyes. If you coupled the glasses with a purple shirt or an oversized hoodie, he’s going to go out of his way to get his hands on the material, though don’t be fooled, his real goal is studying you. 

Raph

Raphie’s weakness is anything feminine. If it's floofy and a more "girlie" color, he's all on board. While he does love seeing you in his color, the one time you managed to get him to walk head first into a door because he wasn’t paying attention was while wearing a pastel skirt with a petticoat underneath. He likes the way the fabric swishes when you walk, likes how he gets a peek at thighs and calves when you move. He’s an absolute sucker for embroidered patterns and soft fabrics that give him an excuse to study the way your clothes drape and fall on your figure.

Mikey

Angelo likes your comfy clothes. He loves matching PJ sets and lounge wear, the kind that lets him catch a glimpse of your stomach when you raise your hands up over your head, whose sleeves you have to either constantly push up or the tanks that leave your shoulders bare. He’s going to get possessive if it’s any shade of orange, but he’s not too picky. If it’s your favorite, it’s his favorite by proxy, and he revels in the fact that you’re feeling good enough to be comfortable around him. Bonus points if he gets to feel how soft and well worn the fabric is during cuddling.

Leo

Blue likes it when you dress up, likes silk and velvet and tactile fabric that clings to you, loves it when you wear dresses and blouses. If it’s his color, from the darkest navy to a light robin’s egg blue, he’s going to make it a point to inform you how beautiful you look, going to use the praise as cover to rest his hand low on your back. If you’ve dressed up especially for him, he’s not going to even try and hide the way he’s got his eyes on you. Splinter finds it amusing that even his voice can’t shake his eldest out of his thoughts when his attention is centered on you.

All Four

Alright, listen, this Is probably the part that’s a little more risqué than the rest of these, but those that know, will understand what I’m talking about. 

There’s a certain type of nightgown, modest in itself, that usually has a scoop collar and hits somewhere around the mid thigh length. It can be a lighter, warm weather fabric that floats around you, or a denser, winter weave that clings more to trap heat. Patterned, or solid color, it doesn’t matter, but everyone that has one of these knows exactly what I’m talking about. There is no faster way to make a man sit up and pay attention, then to wear it, and the turtles are no exception. It’s not sexy, at least not by today’s standards, but there’s just something about it that draws their eyes and will have them following after you.

[reyalvr]

HEY POOKS i have a request(idk if there closed or not so please lmk) so like reader who hates physical touch finally holds aonungs finger like when there walking together and like his reaction?? idk first time requesting and your my fav writer❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

NEW BEGINNINGS.

୨⎯ in which first impressions are changed – slightly. ⎯୧

genre┊ chaotic fluff, enemies-to-friends, slight e2l if you squint hard enough

pairing┊ao’nung x fem-sully!reader 

wordcount┊2.9k

warnings┊none, ao’nung is just an idiot (so nothing new) 

author’s note┊ vv cute request but i’m ngl i did end up struggling a bit trying to come up with a scenario for this T^T again, sorry if i had to modify it a bit! hope you still like it anon <//3 also the scene where ao’nung takes lo’ak outside the reef doesn’t happen here! also i'm encouraging you guys to listen to the song rec i added because it really just ties everything in together LMFOAHGHJD (edit: i’ll write a sweeter drabble soon too help)

song recs ┊ lujon.

When you had first arrived at Awa'atlu, Ao’nung had pegged you as the silent, strong-willed eldest daughter of the Sully family. During training you only ever kept to yourself, practicing on your own as soon as you mastered whatever technique they were teaching you that day. You weren’t rude, just very stand-offish.

So stand-offish to the point where not even his insults or antics could get a reaction out of you. It drove him mad, really. Your other siblings, save for probably Neteyam, had given him the reaction that he had expected, wanted even. He thrived on attention, be it bad or good – it’s what made him feel confident. 

So when you arrived here, paying him no mind, his brain had gone haywire. He tried doing everything he could – jokes, pranks, and hell, even compliments for minor achievements. Those didn’t work, and he was just about to give up on garnering anything out of you until today happened. He hadn’t seen it coming.

He had spotted you and Kiri by the shore, sitting together as you admired the sand. Ao’nung was aware that this environment was new to you, yet he still found it strange how you always managed to be so entranced by every single thing. He murmured something to his friends, and they snickered at his words.

You turned then, your bright yellow eyes looking at all of them with disinterest. He flashed you a smile and again you did nothing, not even an eye roll. He felt it falter, though he kept it up as soon as your sister lifted herself out of the water. 

“Huh? What’d you say?” She asked, her tone so welcomingly friendly. 

“Are you some kind of… freak?” He teased, his hands coming up to grab her arm. 

“No,” She answered flatly, trying to pull herself out of his grasp.

He waved it around then, as if it were some toy. His friends all laughed at your sister’s hand, treating her like some kind of deformity. You quickly pulled her out of their circle, your face slowly forming a scowl. His eyes widened slightly as he took note of your reaction – success? Not quite, but nearly. He continued on with his antics, hoping that today would finally be the day he got something out of you. 

You didn’t understand why Ao’nung was so fixated on treating you and your family like shit. He was a menace, and you honestly couldn’t believe you’d made it this far without retaliating against him. You wanted to yell at them to stop, but you knew that you would only be provoking them. 

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re not even real na’vi.” Ao’nung continued, his hand now coming up to pull on your tail.

You yelped, instantly turning to face him. If looks could kill, he would’ve been dead the moment you laid eyes on him. You hated it when strangers touched you without warning, let alone people you hated. Eywa, you wanted nothing more than to smack the entitlement out of this boy. But still you remained silent, opting to just walk away from the situation. 

You heard your brothers then, suddenly joining the crowd. Lo’ak guided the both of you further away while Neteyam stopped whatever else was about to fly out of Ao’nung’s mouth. Your scowl remained though, and you kept your death stare focused on him and his circle of idiots. 

“And from now on,” Neteyam concluded, his expression just as pissed as yours, if not, even more. “I need you to respect my sisters.”

He made eye-contact with you briefly, and something about the look in his eyes told you that he had no intention of keeping his word. You scowled even deeper. 

One of his friends actually had the gall to hiss at your brother, though Ao’nung had made the smart choice of holding him off. Neteyam made his way back to you now, gesturing for you guys to head back to the village. And you were going to– really, you were, but Ao’nung just couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut. 

“Look at them, they’re all freaks. Especially quiet girl,” He said, his tone hushed but loud enough for you to still hear. “She’s already a four-fingered freak, what more if she can’t even handle a little tug.”

He had his back turned to you as you stomped angrily towards him, your fist already clenched at your side. His friends had no time to warn him as you angrily jerked his shoulder, making him face you. 

“[Y/N] leave it be!” Kiri begged, but it was already too late. 

You decked him, hard. He stumbled as he fell, landing straight into the shallow water. He blinked slowly as he regained whatever balance he had left, his hand coming up to caress his cheek. Everyone looked at you in shock. In your entire stay with the Metkayina clan, never did you act out this rashly before. In fact, you never acted out at all. 

“Four-fingered freak, you say?” Your tone was taunting him, your tail swinging rapidly as you tried your best to keep yourself at bay. “You mean the freak who just put you on your ass?”

His friends hissed at you, already lunging towards your direction for the insult. They didn’t make it two steps in as your brothers had already stepped in for you, swinging hits left and right. You were pushed out of the way, and you staggered backwards until you were next to Kiri again. 

She gave you a look, and though you were older than her it felt like you were the younger one moments away before getting a scolding. In the end you had to pry your brothers away, eventually meeting up with your father by one of the pathways. All of you, except for Kiri, kept your heads bowed as you listened to your father’s words of displeasure. 

To say he looked disappointed would be an understatement. He was pissed, yes, but more importantly he was embarrassed. He had asked of you guys one thing, and you had tried so hard to live up to your promise of respect. But today was your last straw. 

You could tell your father was torn between having to scold you or let you go with just a warning. He knew now of Ao’nung’s torment, yet he didn’t want to jeapordize the safety the village provided for your family. 

Wanting to fix this mess immediately, he walked the three of you to the chief’s marui. You sighed and closed your eyes as you walked, mad at yourself for even escalating this stupid situation in the first place. You had everything under control, but all it took was one tail tug and a few harsh words to have your composure come crashing down. 

Ao’nung leaned on the side of his marui now, watching as you and your brothers apologized for your actions. He held a cloth with medicinal paste against his cheek, his cuts stinging as he continued to dab it on. His mother and father stood beside him, their presence the only thing keeping him from mumbling any more digs at you.

You were the last to speak, and he could tell that you didn’t want to do this. You took a few moments before you finally looked up at him, your eyes filled with such resentment. The hand you had used to give him the bruising wound below his eye was still tightly fisted, your knuckles still red from the amount of force you had used in one blow. 

“I am sorry,” You started, so much distaste in your words. “So sorry that I hit you. And I am even more sorry that I put you on your ass.” 

Lo’ak snorted quietly, trying to keep quiet so as to not piss your dad off even more. You felt your father nudge your shoulder, and you redid your apology, this time with a little less sarcasm and annoyance. 

Ao’nung’s parents sighed heavily as they approved of your words, followed by his father demanding that he apologize as well for his insults. He had tried to protest, but one look from Tonowari was enough to have him muttering a half-assed apology. 

You didn’t care, it wasn’t sincere anyway. And even if it were, you had no intention of accepting it. Once all was said and done, you were the first one to go. You walked away, your expression back to its nonchalant one. You held your head up high, no longer hanging it in embarrassment. 

Ao’nung had remained in his place, his mind still processing what had happened today. He was successful in his mission, but could it really be a success if he was the one injured? Could it really be a success if your feelings toward him were only momentarily, your stoic persona coming back almost instantly?

Needless to say though, the reaction he got out of you was unexpected. He knew you were tough, your father was Toruk Makto for crying out loud. But he wasn’t ready for your physical retaliation. Even at the beach, he only stared at you as his friends tried to defend him. 

He winced again as he remembered the pain on his cheek, the bruised spot feeling incredibly sore. He was thankful that you didn’t aim for his jaw, since that truly would have shut him up for good. He brought his hand up, slightly tapping the tender area. Who would’ve known that a quiet little thing like you had so much power? Not him, clearly.

He continued to stand there, still examining all his injuries. His sister came up to him then, just coming back from wherever she had been. She looked at him, her eyes darting from bruise to bruise. What happened? her gaze said, though he had a feeling she already had an idea of the events that transpired today.

He only brushed her off, turning to walk back inside the pod. She followed after him, persistent in getting answers out of her brother. Tsireya sat in front of him, not leaving her place until he spoke. He gave her a look, but she gave him a look as well in return.

He groaned under his breath and rolled his eyes before he finally told her everything; the teasing, the taunts, the fight, your punch. She put a hand up to her mouth, much like how Lo’ak tried to compress his laughter a while ago. How fitting. 

“Are you laughing?” He said, slightly offended that his own sister found his failures funny. 

She pressed her lips into a tight line, shaking her head instantly, though he could see her fighting a grin. She put a hand up to his shoulder, patting him lightly as she got up, taking an empty basket with her. 

“Oh big brother, just what have you gotten yourself into?” She said, the suppressed laugh from earlier sprinkled in her words. “If [Y/N] didn’t already despise you before, she definitely does now.”

“Why should I care?” He said as he stood, facing his sister with his arms crossed. 

“Why should you care?” She turned and parroted his words, eyes wide at how infuriatingly dense Ao’nung was. “Need I remind you that she is the daughter of Toruk Makto, one of the greatest war leaders of our time.” 

“She was on the path to becoming Olo’eykte of the Omatikaya,” He was about to interrupt her until she put her hand up, stopping him from saying anything before she finished. “It is not wise to have her as an enemy.” 

“So, what, are you saying I should apologize?” He said. “I already did.”

She put a hand on her hip, clearly starting to get frustrated with her older brother. “No, you didn’t. And yes, I am telling you to go apologize to her – truthfully and sincerely this time.” 

He wanted to protest against her, but she quickly tossed the basket she was holding to him. “Go now. She will be by the docks gathering materials for her family’s feast tonight.” 

“But-” He tried, but Tsireya had already made up her mind in making him go in her place.

“How do you even know where she is?” He asked, his face scrunched up as he reluctantly made his way out of the marui. 

“Because unlike you, I don’t treat her like an outcast. And besides, she likes me.” She said, her shoulders shrugging up at the last phrase. She smacked him on the back of his head before he was fully out of the pod, reiterating her words as he continued on his way.

He found you then, folding dried leaves into your basket. You were right where Tsireya had said you would be, sitting quietly like always. You looked at peace in your solace, your body free of any tension. Your hair was up haphazardly, free from your usual taut braids. The evening breeze had finally come, the sky going from bright blue to muted orange. 

He coughed as he made his way towards you, breaking the relaxing solitude you were relishing in. You looked up, still continuing on with whatever you were doing. Your loathing stare was enough to make him fidget in his place before he finally decided to speak up. 

“I, uh,” He stuttered. Actually stuttered. He cursed himself mentally before continuing. “I just wanted to say that I am sorry. Again.” 

You blinked away boredly, only humming and nodding your head in response. You quickly took your basket with you as you got up, already making your way back to your pod. You didn’t want to be alone with the reef boy any longer, Eywa only knows what you’d do if he dared to provoke you once more. 

“[Y/N] wait-” He said, clumsily turning as he grabbed your arm.

You hissed at him, his grip on your arm falling as soon as he saw your reaction. Right, you did not like being touched without warning. He put his arms up, trying to show that he meant no harm. 

“Are you not satisfied yet, hm? Does your ego still need to be fed?” You said, eyebrows furrowing as you continued to berate him. “You won! All you wanted was a reaction, right? Well you got it!” 

“No!” He argued back, annoyance starting to creep up on him. This was pointless, of course you wouldn’t be willing to accept his apology, let alone be in his presence for more than five minutes. “I am trying to apologize, please just listen-”

“Kalweyaveng,” You muttered under your breath, hand coming up to hold your forehead as you tried to calm your nerves. You had already caused one scene today, you weren’t about to start another. You took a few breaths before you finally faced him again, trying to remain nonchalant as you, aversely, heard him out.

He tried to maintain eye-contact with you, but your stare was just so deep. It felt like you were trying to burn holes into his head the longer he stared at you. You tilted your head to the side, eyebrow raised as you were clearly getting impatient in the ever growing silence.

“Let’s call a truce.” He finally breathed out, his arm already outstretched in your direction. “New beginnings.” 

You looked up at him, then down to his arm, then up back to him again. You squinted, unsure if he would be able to stick to his word. Not that it mattered, you were more than capable of handling any situation if he decided to break his vow. But still, a truce was an important promise, and it needed to be held truthfully all throughout. 

It was painfully awkward now, his smug demeanor vanishing the longer he stayed quiet. He cursed his sister for setting him up to this, and he cursed himself even more for agreeing. He did not have to do this, he was the chief’s son – next in line for Olo’eyktan. But, regrettably, he knew Tsireya’s words were right. You were a mighty hunter, with a legacy of powerful warriors before you. It really wouldn’t be wise to have you against him. 

“Please,” He said, breaking the silence. “I swear to Eywa that I will not break this vow.” 

Your ears perked up at this – swearing on the Great Mother meant that someone was serious. You scoffed, huh, he actually meant it. You took his hand then, wrapping your fingers around his forearm as you shook in agreement. Though his hands were rough, they were gentle on you as he took note of your uncomfortableness with strangers. 

You never liked the feeling of touch from people you didn’t know, and you still don’t, but Ao’nung’s warmth didn’t feel as bad now than compared to before. 

“Truce.” You said, slowly removing your arm away from him. 

He grinned. You frowned. He stopped grinning. 

He walked with you now, keeping up with your pace. “So, what now, tree girl?” He teased. 

You gave him a look as if to say ‘really?’, and he shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, we are friends now, right? I can call you that?” 

You stopped, turning to the side to face him. You threw him your heavy basket unexpectedly, and he stumbled back as he tried to catch it without spilling any of the contents. 

“Oh yeah, we are friends now, fish lips.” You said, tone laced in sarcasm. “And since we’re friends, you can carry that for me, right?” 

You continued on your way then, not waiting for his reply. He watched you for a bit as you walked ahead, and he laughed slightly.

May Eywa bless him with the strength to earn your trust. 

reyalvr © 2023 ... do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@notsochillnerd, @avatarkv, @normspellsman, @neteyamslovrr, @kaiwritez, @tsveria, @aonungsmate

[plush-rabbit]

Word Count: 3.5K A/N: No name again!! Part Three this time. Woo! Um, I just miss writing. I have some request that I wanna do, and like honestly, i need to make time. And I'm slowly making time! So, one day. I wanna write an Adam chapter, but like idk. Like I could. I'm the writer, but like also, I wanna do this other one, and like i thought it was gonna be super quick, but ya know me. I like words and sounding deep. So who knows. It gets like updated whenever its slow at work, so one day.

-

You pace around the room that you occupy. It doesn’t feel like home. You’re afraid nothing will ever feel like home again. You look at yourself in the mirror, and trace your tongue over your sharpened teeth, and you can’t recall the change to them- whether they grew into fangs during your fall, or when you were in your unconscious state. 

“‘S probably why my jaw hurt so much,” you mumble to yourself.

Despite not showing much interest in most things, Lucifer has brought it upon himself to make your room as comfortable as possible. He’s brought candles, and pillows to add color. He’s brought you different types of creams and perfumes for you to try, telling you to let him know what scent you like best. The shower adjacent to your room is kept clean, and stocked full of sweet smelling soaps. Your closet is full of clothes, so soft that you played with the fabric between your fingers until you feared you’d ruin them with your nails.

While your back no longer aches like it once did, you still avoid looking at it. The morbid curiosity to touch it grows every second, but you can only let your fingers ghost against the edges of the scars, feeling the pulled skin against yours, chills making your body rise. You feel bile in your throat when you touch a scar that runs thin and farther down your back- skin that stayed stuck and only released when it was far too thin and weak to hold on any longer. 

It’s sensitive, and almost ticklish. The tags of shirts make you uncomfortable, and you gently pat yourself dry after showers. You stare at the fogged mirror after every shower, and you have yet to wipe it clean and turn around to see what you’ve lost.

Lucifer has assured you that it’s not nearly as rough as it once was. Perhaps he’s right about that. Yet, you hate that he knows what you’re going through. You hate that you can’t be angry at him, that you can’t throw a fit and tell him that he doesn’t understand. But he does. He’s one of the few that will understand what you’re feeling, and you can’t bring yourself to talk to him.

There’s a knock on your door, and you look away from the mirror. “Come in,” you say out loud, already knowing who is on the other side- speak of the devil, and he shall appear. You give a small smile as Lucifer walks in with a tray of food, taking careful steps to not let the drinks topple over. 

“I brought dinner,” he says with a smile. 

You sit on the bed, legs crossed and watch as he places the tray over your lap. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you say. There are two plates, two sets of cutlery, and two drinks. Once again, he’ll be having dinner with you in the confines of your room. 

Lucifer takes his place in the chair beside you, and with a wave holds the plate in his hand, carefully balancing it as he holds the silvered fork in the other hand. Your fingers wrap over the silver, as you poke and prod at the food. 

“I hope you like it,” he says. “It’s been a while since I cooked anything, so I’m hoping it’s good for you.”

You pierce the food with the prongs of the fork. “I didn’t know you cooked,” you mumble, before taking a bite of your meal. The taste is savory, melting on your tongue, and you cut another piece before even swallowing the first one.

“It’s been a while.” Silver clinks against porcelain in a melody, behind his words. “It’s been ages since I’ve had proper meals.” You catch his eye, and he clears his throat. “Running Hell is a bit of a task. Hardly ever lets me enjoy my peace,” he says quietly, nudging his food with the sharpened point of the fork. 

“I can’t imagine the type of work it takes to run it all,” you reply, wrapping your lips around another forkful of food. 

Lucifer hums in response, and you take a sip of your drink. He hardly ever talks about Hell in detail. He’ll focus the conversation on you, trying to pry out your interests and likes. At times, he’ll talk about his daughter, Charlie. He tells you how she’s off somewhere in the Pride Ring, about how she was when she was young, how he would have her sit on his lap and watch as he’d tinker in his office. The stories are always in past tense, and you never like hearing the sorrow that are entangled in his words. Not only that, there’s a lack of mention of his wife, despite the ring that he still wears. 

The conversation comes to a still, and you frown. 

Dinners in Heaven were hardly ever quiet. There’d always be some type of noise, some gentle hum of a song, laughter, talk about slaughter that made you queasy. You’d eat with Adam most nights. Some nights you were accompanied by Lute and you always welcomed those shared meals, where she’d sit beside you, her wings folded neatly behind her, compared to Adam’s prodigious wings which graced the floor. She’d remove her mask when dining, and would grace you with a gentle smile. 

Home was the only place you’d ever see Adam without his mask. The horns curved and the bright lights a warning against others, looking down on others with heavenly light. He’d wear his mask in public, it was loud and showed who he was. Newer souls always looked at him with awe, and he hungered for the way that they would trip over themselves to speak to him. They may not have known his title, but they knew he was important, they felt the power that he held, the authority that he carried. He was someone to be admired. He was someone that you wanted to be around with. 

Even though you were just an angel, you didn’t hold power that others didn’t already have. But Adam still chose you, and you chose him. 

You should have chosen to run away when you had the chance.

The food tastes bitter, and you drop the fork, the clinking making your flinch and turn your head. Your name is whispered, and a hand places itself over your arm. Your eyes are shut tight, and you feel like a fool. “Are you all right?” Lucifer asks in a soft voice.

You suck in your lip, teasing it between your teeth. “No, I’m sorry, Lucifer.” You shake your head and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over. Turning to him, you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m fine, I’m sorry. I was-” your voice wavers, and you cover your eyes with your hand- “remembering Heaven. I remembered how my meals-” tears drip down, and you wave your hand. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.”

With a wave of his hand, the tray of food, and his own plate disappears from your sight. It’s quiet for a moment, and he pushes his seat closer to your bed before breaking the silence. “Do you think of Heaven often?” Shamefully, you nod. “What do you miss?” 

Adam. You peek at him between your fingers, and when he hands you a tissue, you take it wordlessly. “The view,” you answer. The tissue dabs at your eyes, and you let your hands fall beside you. Fingertips nudge against your hand, a silent encouragement to continue to speak. Your fingers jump, and there’s a sudden urge to take his hand in comfort. Rather, you let your nails scrap against the bedsheets.

“When I was still-” Lucifer’s voice pauses to take a breath- “I would sneak off to this forest. I’d watch all of his creations frolic among the fields. I’d have a few of my own creations rest against me. It was serene.”

You stretch your legs, and pull the blanket over your lower half. “I was a lower rank angel,” you start. “No one hardly needed me unless they wanted me to fetch something. But there was-” you bit your bottom lip and flicker your eyes towards Lucifer who listens with his attention on you- “an angel who would take me to see the stars.” You smile softly, and rub the corner of the tissue between your index and thumb. “It was a vast space, where the sky was lit by the radiance of the stars. It was the first time anyone thought of doing something for me,” you say out loud. 

“You were an angel, were you not?” Lucifer asks, his body leaning towards you, a hand wrapping around your wrist, and you let him take your wrist.

“Just an angel, nothing more. I don’t even know why he was so nice to me.” You smile at him, but you look away, smiling at the end of the bed. “I still don’t get it.” He was praised for so much, given everything and perhaps that’s what made his ego bigger than what it needed to be. “But he was kind to me.”

“Another angel?” He sounds surprised. You wonder what angels were like back in his days.

“A higher ranking than I,” you shrug with your answer. There’s a reason why he was able to get away with so much.

“For all that Heaven was, the views were ethereal.” You hum in response. It’s silent, and his shoes tap against the floor. “I’m sorry that Hell doesn’t have views like those.” His thumb arches over your wrist, and you dig your nails into your palm.

You stay silent beside him. Heaven’s land and warmth, nothing but a memory for you to return to. The room smells of rosemary and wine, and your blankets are thick in the stench of it. You turn to him. “Lucifer, why don’t we eat at the table?”

He stiffens at your voice, his mouth opening and closing without an answer. “I didn’t know you wanted to,” he replies.

“I’m stuck in this room all day, I want-” more is what you want, more than the four walls of your bedroom- “I want to see the other rooms. I’m not like I was before. I can move now.”

His eyes scan over your body, and with a nod, he clears his throat. “Okay,” he nods once more. “Breakfast will be in the dining room. I’ll be here to walk you at the usual time that I arrive.”

“Thank you, Lucifer,” you say kindly, a smile ghosting over your lips.

“You’re welcome,” he says your name softly, twisting meaning into the syllables and letting it fill the air.

-

Your room is shrouded in darkness, vast and consuming. Perhaps it’s because you’ve spent so much time awake in the night, that you can recognize what’s beside you, or maybe it’s your vision, heavenly eyes now able to see in the night, almost as if it were day. You aren’t sure which option brings you more comfort- that you’ve spent so long in a place that you should call home, or that parts of your angelic nature have contorted into something else.

Sleep has yet to take you into its arms. You lay awake, unable to do much else, hoping that if you’re still long enough then maybe you rest. However, you do nothing all day but read and draw in a book Lucifer had given you. The television remains in an opened box, pressed against a wall. He had attempted to attach it to the wall, but grew frustrated when he could not figure out the wiring. When you offered that he call someone who could, he just placed everything back in the box grumbling under his breath.

His pride is the reason you still rely on books and his company for entertainment. 

The scars on your back are no longer tender as they once were. They’re soft, and ticklish. You squirm against the cotton of the bed and feel a chill pass when you think of them for too long. Your arms coil themselves around you, fingertips tracing over the scarring lines. You wipe your hands on the comforter, filth still etched into you.

Your legs kick the bed, and you find yourself unable to sleep. If it were Heaven, you’d have Adam beside you. It would be hours until he finally rested, staying up until dawn peeked through the blinds in gold. He’d keep you company. Even if he was tired, he’d grumble and whine, but would continue to hold a conversation with you until he could no longer. 

Truth be told, it was rare for you to struggle to fall asleep. You had no trouble resting your weary head, but when you did, you at least had Adam with you. 

As much as other angels complained about not being given bigger tasks, you hardly minded them. You had no real power over anyone, no real responsibilities. The only real duty that you were given, was to calm Adam when he became crass- at least more so than usual. Heaven was blissful, the only worry being whether Adam would call you a crass nickname in public.

He hardly listened to anyone. He might have quieted down when a Seraphim or even Lute would give him a look, but when it came to you, he would mumble under his breath, still simmering, but at least he'd hold your hand. A chill runs through your body. In quiet moments, you can feel the weight of his wings over you, the heaviness, the softness of his feathers, how they would cover you like a blanket. 

Moments with him were plenty, never did you ever have to miss him unless he was called out. The few times you both were separated, he was bitter- snapping and complaining to anyone who was unfortunate to speak to him. and you felt pride at being the one that he wanted, being the one who could calm him. All these weeks- conscious and unconscious- is the first you’ve ever spent without him- without knowing that you would see him again. You wonder what he’s doing. The thought hurts, a sharp pain in your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. 

You wonder if he’s upset with Lute. A part of you wants him to be, to know that he did care for you, enough to be upset at another for hurting you. And the other part, hopes that he isn’t. You hope that he understood that it was a task given to her, that he doesn’t hold it against her. You hope that she doesn’t hold it against herself. You close your eyes, and your hands scratch against the comforter. 

You need to think of something else.

There has to be something else that you can think of. Something that doesn’t have to do with him. Anything at all would work. 

Mornings. 

How the sunlight would cast gold in the room, peeking between the blinds and making his wings shimmer. The warmth of the light would only encourage you to dig deeper into bed, pulling yourself closer to him. Your wings would brush under his, and they were never as grand as his were. Where yours were iridescent, and fit to your body perfectly, his shined in gold, carved by Father and molded to be fitting of the first soul to ascend to Heaven. 

You cry, and a sob escapes, whimpering past your lips. You need another distraction. 

Your wings. 

Think of how your wings were ripped from you. How Lute was the one to perform the severance and how Adam was adamant to watch. How he wanted to be there for you. You think of how you’ll never have your wings again. You’ll never fly again. There will  always be a scar to serve as a reminder of what was taken. And despite not having them, you can still feel them. You feel their weight, and in the mornings, you can feel a ghost of an ache, as if you’d slept on them wrong.

You sob, crying like a child and you press yourself against a pillow, trying to dull the cries. You can’t recall ever being so teary-eyed, so sad and lonely. Even after your creation, you were greeted with love and open arms, and past the time when you were simply an angel, you at least had Adam and Lute to keep you company.

Crying seems like a foreign concept. You never cried much in Heaven. Not out of sadness, at least. You hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to cry. You heave, whimpering and clawing at the bed sheets. Your chest is tight, bones constricting themselves around everything delicate, gold burning inside of you. When you laid in bed with Adam and spoke of your fate, and even when your wings were removed, you hadn’t cried like this. You shed tears, and you begged for forgiveness under your breath, but you accepted it until you cast out. Some nights, you wake up and you think it’s all been some horrid dream, only to be reminded when you wake to a ceiling that is not yours. 

Your door swings open, the back of it smacking against the wall.

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asks, his voice tense. His presence serves as a reminder of where you are, and where you can never return to. “Are you okay?” He’s inside your room, and the door closes with a smack the further he goes. 

You are unable to answer him through your cries, mumbling incoherently. A hand places itself over your arm, and flutters away when you flinch. He sighs your name, and the side of your bed dips under his weight. “Do you want to be alone?”

You hiccup, and after a pause, you shake your head.

“Is it okay to touch you?

You nod, and turn over. Your hands grasp and pull at his clothes, you make a note that he hasn't changed out of his daytime attire, and that his eyes sag with exhaustion. Despite it all, you need him here. You want him here. His hand cups overs, and he lets his thumb arch over the back of your hand. Lucifer shifts under your touch, unable to be comfortable in your bed. Your nails scratch against the fabric of his clothes, fisting the shirt in your hand, and you need him to stay. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, another one of his hands cupping over the corner of your head, gently stroking you. “Just cry it out,” he whispers.

You cry beside him, the touch of his clothes barely enough to keep you satisfied. Your face is barely hidden between the pillow and the mattress. You weep, unable to catch a breath, unable to think of anything more than just missing home. 

“I hate crying,” you mumble, hiccupping and hiding your face.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, tracing shapes over your forearm, “you get used to it.” Your body still shakes, whimpers and other pathetic sounds filling the room. “I- Um, I remember that angels were rather touchy- always together in flocks, and never really alone, so I-” he clears his throat, and you peek up at him through teary eyes. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but do you want a-” His face deepens in color, and he squeezes your arm, unable to manage the word out loud. “Or I can get you a pillow or something?”

Your hands let go of him, and the push against the mattress. “Lucifer?” You say softly, picking yourself up. He hums in response, his eyes wide and focused on you. “Can you hold me?” You gasp, your chest tight. 

“Yes- Yeah,” he croaks. “Of course. Whatever you need- Oh!” He gasps, when you cling to him, your arms snaking around him, pulling at the fabric of his clothes. You hide yourself in the crook soft curve where his neck and shoulder meet, your dewy face kissing his exposed skin. “It’s-” you can feel his hands pat nervously at your back- “okay.” You pull him closer to you, desperate to not have him leave you. “You’re-” at the sound of another of your cries, his arms tightening around your shaking figure, hands pressed into the soft of your skin- “You’re okay. I got you, you’re safe,” he coos. 

He’s warm, and he holds you close to him, his head knocking gently against yours. Your cries soften into whimpers, gasping breaths tickling over his skin. In a room where the glow of red peeks into the room, letting glass and skin flame under a dim hue, you find yourself reminded of home. You find comfort in someone holding you, you find yourself held together by sin, stitched and handled with care. Hands are gentle against your back, the pressure against the scars enough to make you crave for more, to have him touch more of you. You let your eyes close, and you tell yourself that you’ll ask him to leave, but you need a few minutes where you can feel safe, where you can feel wanted.