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ruewritesoccasionally · 2 months ago

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Playing with Fire | Aaron Pierre

pairing: aaron pierre x plus size!black!reader

warnings: heavy smut 18+, bratty behaviour, teasing, impact play (consensual ofc), power dynamics (dom!aaron + sub!reader) oral (m receiving), praise + degradation kink, dirty talk, & use of names (daddy, slut, princess, baby, mama)

summary: when a night of hosting their friends turns into a game of control and temptation, YN's bratty teasing pushes aaron to his limits. once the guests are gone, he makes sure she learns exactly why it's never wise to play with fire.

word count: 3.2K

a/n: you guys seem to be loving the aaron content, i'm lowkey tempted to come out of retirement

The kitchen buzzed with activity as Aaron worked his culinary magic, the scents of rosemary and thyme mingling in the air. The music played low, a jazzy playlist that matched the intimate vibe of the evening. It was their turn to host the couple's dinner, a tradition among their tight-knit circle of friends that had lasted years. Aaron had looked forward to the night—catching up with friends, sharing good food—but YN clearly had other plans.

Her plans, as far as Aaron could tell, didn’t involve entertaining guests at all.

She was stunning, as always. Her rich, deep brown skin glowed against the soft knit dress she’d chosen, the snug fabric hugging her curves in ways that made Aaron’s chest tighten. Her thick thighs brushed together as she moved, the sway of her hips almost hypnotic. She knew what she was doing—she always did.

“Everything okay over there, Chef?” she teased, her voice honeyed as she leaned against the counter, holding a wine glass in her hand.

Aaron glanced up from the pot he was stirring, his dark eyes locking on her. “Fine,” he muttered, though his grip on the wooden spoon tightened.

“Good,” she purred, taking a slow sip from her glass. The motion drew his attention to her lips, full and glossed, before his gaze slipped lower—to the way her breasts pressed against the dress.

She caught him staring and smiled, a slow, knowing curve of her lips that sent heat pooling low in his stomach. He turned back to the stove with a muttered curse, but the damage was done.

As she moved around the kitchen, she made a show of brushing past him. Her fingers grazed his arm here, her hip bumped his there, and every time she leaned over, her dress rose just enough to reveal the smooth, bare expanse of her thighs.

“YN,” he warned at one point, his voice low and strained as she reached for a glass on the top shelf, the movement arching her back in a way that had him gripping the edge of the counter.

��Yes, baby?” she replied innocently, glancing at him over her shoulder.

His jaw ticked. “Keep playing with me.”

By the time the first guests arrived, Aaron was already on edge, his self-control hanging by a thread. He greeted their friends with a warm smile, his deep voice steady, but YN’s presence beside him was a constant distraction.

As they settled into the evening, she didn’t let up. If anything, her teasing became bolder.

She sat across from him at the dining table, her dress riding up slightly as she crossed one leg over the other. The motion drew his eyes, and when he looked back up, she was watching him with a sly smile, her chin resting on her hand.

“What?” he asked, his voice low enough that the others couldn’t hear.

“Nothing,” she replied, the word laced with mischief.

Her foot brushed his under the table, a light, teasing touch that made his breath hitch. She kept the conversation going with their friends, her laugh rich and warm, but her foot remained there, sliding up his calf and lingering just high enough to make him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

He clenched his fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his composure.

As the laughter and conversation flowed in the living room, Aaron’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned, slipping it out and glancing at the screen. A message from YN.

“For your eyes only.”

His brow furrowed, but the second he opened the attachment, his breath caught in his throat.

She’d taken the picture in the bathroom, angling her phone just so. Tilting her neck in a way that showcased the delicate curve of her jawline and the smooth expanse of her rich skin, her collarbone and chest gleamed with her favourite body oil. The neckline of her dress was tugged down ever so slightly, revealing the swell of her full breast—and just the barest hint of her sweet, dark areola.

Aaron’s grip tightened on his phone as a wave of heat surged through him, leaving him momentarily speechless. He swore under his breath, locking the screen and shoving the phone back into his pocket, but the image was seared into his mind.

His gaze darted to her across the room. She was laughing at something one of their friends had said, her smile wide and carefree, as if she hadn’t just sent him a picture designed to ruin his composure.

Aaron clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists as he fought to keep his cool. She was going to pay for this later.

The real test came later, as the night wore on.

YN excused herself to fetch dessert from the kitchen, and Aaron followed her with his eyes. Her dress swayed with each step, the fabric clinging to her curves in ways that made his throat go dry.

She returned a moment later, balancing plates of cake in her hands, but when she bent to place one in front of a guest, her dress inched up again. Aaron’s sharp eyes caught the briefest glimpse of smooth, bare skin beneath it.

No panties.

He froze, his entire body going rigid as a wave of heat surged through him. His jaw clenched, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table.

When she straightened, she met his eyes, a flicker of challenge dancing in hers.

He was done.

Aaron stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice tight, though his tone remained polite. He turned to YN, his gaze dark and dangerous. “Can you help me with something upstairs?”

She blinked, feigning confusion. “Of course, babe,” she replied, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her excitement.

Not that YN much cared—her focus was elsewhere—but their guests could feel the shift in the air. The sexual tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife, and Aaron’s not-so-subtle announcement had sent an unspoken message.

Recognising the situation for what it was, the group exchanged quick glances. One by one, they politely let themselves out, sparing YN and Aaron the embarrassment of any lingering.

“Thanks for the lovely evening,” one friend said with a warm smile, though there was a knowing gleam in their eyes.

“Food was amazing, as always,” another added.

Aaron stood at the door with YN by his side, his hand resting firmly on her waist. His fingers tightened in a warning grip, silently reminding her that he was still in control—even if she’d spent the entire evening testing him.

“Glad you all enjoyed it,” he said, his deep voice steady, though there was a rough edge to it now.

With a chorus of goodbyes and promises to catch up soon, their friends made their way out, leaving Aaron and YN alone in the now-empty house.

The door clicked shut, and for a moment, silence hung heavy in the air.

Then Aaron turned to her, his jaw tight, his dark eyes blazing with unrestrained hunger.

“You’ve got exactly five seconds to get upstairs,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

With Aaron’s words still echoing in her ears, YN dashed up the stairs, her laughter spilling out in breathless giggles. The thrill of anticipation coiled in her stomach, making her pulse quicken. She loved this—the push and pull, the game they played, and most of all, the way she could unravel him, bring a man like him to the brink of control.

Aaron was one hell of a man. Tall and broad, with muscles that flexed beneath his fitted clothes. Every move he made was deliberate, like a predator sizing up his prey. And his face—oh, his face. Those piercing eyes that could make her knees weak with a single look. That beard, perfectly shaped, framing lips that were equal parts soft and sinful.

What those lips were going to do to her tonight, what they’d say to her… She trembled at the thought, her body already buzzing with need. Her excitement got the better of her as she missed a step on the staircase, her balance slipping for just a moment.

Before she could fall, strong hands caught her waist, steadying her with ease. She gasped as Aaron’s body pressed up against hers, his chest firm against her back.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he murmured against her ear, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. His grip tightened, possessive and grounding all at once.

Her heart raced as she turned her head slightly to catch his gaze. There was that fire in his eyes, a look that made her feel equal parts powerful and utterly at his mercy.

“Go on, princess,” he said lowly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, Aaron turned YN around, pressing her back against the door. His broad frame loomed over her, dark eyes burning with the kind of intensity that made her thighs clench together. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body, his hands already gripping her waist like he couldn’t wait another second.

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he growled, his voice low and rough, vibrating in her chest. His hand slipped down to grip her ass firmly, pulling her flush against him, letting her feel the hard evidence of her earlier teasing.

“Daddy all alone, all to yourself,” he continued, his tone laced with both frustration and hunger. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath hot and teasing. “Pulling those little stunts earlier… making your dirty little comments, bending over like that. You got me so fucking hard in front of our friends.”

Her breath hitched, her body tingling with equal parts anticipation and nervous excitement.

“You’re lucky I didn’t bend you over the table and tear your ass up right there,” he growled, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. “Should’ve shown them what a real slut looks like. My slut.”

The word sent a jolt through her, her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of his dominance. She whimpered softly, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as she looked up at him through wide, needy eyes.

“You wanted this, princess,” Aaron continued, his hand moving up to cup her face, forcing her to look at him. “You think you’re ready for everything you’ve been begging for?”

“On your knees for me, baby. You know the game already—time to deal with the problem you made.”

Aaron’s voice was low, steady, but carried an edge of command that sent a thrill racing through her. She sank to the floor without hesitation, her breath quickening as she looked up at him. The view above was dizzying—his broad chest rising and falling, his dark, muscular arms flexing as he worked the buttons of his trousers at an agonisingly slow pace.

He radiated power, pure and unrestrained, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away as he pulled himself free, his thick, glistening length standing proud. A bead of liquid pooled at the tip, threatening to spill, and she moved without thought, her lips parting as she surged forward to catch it before it was wasted.

“Greedy little thing,” he chuckled darkly, the sound rough and pleased as he widened his stance. His fingers slid into her curls, tangling there, as he guided her to him. “That’s it, princess. Take Daddy’s dick like the good girl I know you are.”

The warmth of her mouth wrapped around him, hot and eager, and Aaron groaned, his head falling back as a shiver ran through his body. She worked him with precision and desperation, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head before taking him deeper, the sheer weight of him on her tongue making her core tighten.

Her nails gripped his thighs for support as she bobbed her head, hollowing her cheeks with every pull. He hissed at the sensation, his free hand curling into a fist at his side as her pace quickened, her determination to please evident in every movement.

“Fuck, mama,” he growled, his voice strained, his body trembling slightly as her lips worked magic. “That mouth of yours… you’re going to make me lose it.”

“Are you ready for me to make you feel good?” he asked, his voice low, a dark promise in the words. She mumbled a garbled ‘yes’ around him, the vibration sending a jolt through him.

He smirked, his hand coming up to slap her cheek with a quick, sharp motion. “Don’t you know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?” he teased, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

With a sudden pull, he withdrew himself from her mouth, the sound of the pop echoing in the charged air between them.

“Bed. Now,” he commanded, his tone cold and authoritative. Without even sparing her another glance, he turned away, pulling off the rest of his clothing with slow, deliberate movements, his eyes set on the bed.

The mirror was conveniently positioned for moments like this—face down, ass up, legs spread just enough, and eyes locked in. That’s how Aaron liked her: presented, prepared, and ready to take everything he gave. Y/N’s perfect arch highlighted the curve of her back, every inch of her body a work of art meant to be admired and claimed.

She began to regret ditching her panties earlier in the night. Maybe she could have used those extra seconds of slipping them off to brace herself for what was coming. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, adding to her anticipation, her slick thighs betraying how much she wanted him.

The bed dipped behind her, signaling Aaron’s presence. His movements were slow and deliberate, his towering figure closing in on her reflection in the mirror. She followed his every step, every calculated motion that made her nerves alight with electricity.

"God, just look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with lust, eyes burning with intent.

Then came the first smack—a sharp sting across her ass that echoed in the room and had her gasping, her body jolting forward slightly. The force left her speechless for a moment, the pain a shock to her system, but her pussy clenched in response, desperate for more.

His laughing bearing no humour filled the room as he smoothed a large hand over the reddened spot. "You’re gonna count to ten for me, Princess. Loud and clear. Got it?"

“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered, her voice laced with desire and submission.

With each strike, her voice grew shakier, but she obediently counted, the mixture of pain and pleasure building to a maddening crescendo. By the final number, tears streaked her makeup, her lips swollen from biting back moans, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

Aaron’s gaze softened as he took her in—flustered and utterly perfect, his Princess. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, his voice like velvet as he bent down to kiss the marks his hands left behind. His touch shifted to something gentler, soothing the stinging skin as he whispered against her. “You were so patient for me. I’ll make it all better now, baby. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

Aaron’s grip on her hips was punishing, his fingers digging into her flesh, holding her in place as if she’d dare to escape—not that she could even if she tried. Each stroke was deliberate, deep, and devastating, his hips snapping with a rhythm that left her crying out into the sheets.

“Are you gonna tease me again, huh?” His voice was rough, a low growl vibrating through her. Each word was punctuated by a thrust that knocked the air from her lungs. “Or are you finally gonna use your words like a big girl?”

Her head lolled forward, barely able to hold herself up as the relentless pounding scrambled her thoughts. She opened her mouth, but nothing coherent came out—just desperate, breathless gasps that only seemed to amuse him.

“Uh uh,” Aaron rasped, slowing his movements just enough to make her whimper in frustration. He leaned down, his chest pressing against her back as his breath fanned over her ear. “Closed mouths don’t get fed, baby. Talk to Daddy.”

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice trembling as she clung to the sheets. “I won’t—won’t tease you again—oh God, Daddy, please—”

“Please what?” His hips stilled entirely, his thick length buried to the hilt and throbbing inside her. “You don’t seem so confident now, do you? Where’s all that energy from earlier, huh?”

“Please don’t stop!” she begged, tears of desperation pooling in her eyes as she tried to push back against him, but his grip on her hips was unyielding.

He chuckled darkly, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Oh, don’t worry, princess. Stopping was never an option. But I will make sure you remember who’s in charge.”

And with that, he resumed his brutal pace, his thrusts merciless as her cries of pleasure filled the room. The obscene sound of their bodies colliding only spurred him on, and when she tried to muffle her screams by burying her face in the pillow, Aaron wasn’t having it.

“Let me hear you,” he commanded, yanking her head back by her hair. “Let the whole damn block know who’s fucking you like this.”

Her response was an unintelligible mix of moans and cries as her body tensed, trembling on the edge of release. Sensing how close she was, Aaron reached around to find her swollen clit, his rough fingers circling the sensitive nub with just enough pressure to send her hurtling over the edge.

Her climax hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She screamed his name, her nails clawing at the sheets, and Aaron didn’t let up, riding her through it with a feral intensity.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, his tone softening for a brief moment as he kissed the back of her neck. “Taking everything I give you like the good little slut you are.”

But before she could catch her breath, he flipped her onto her back, her legs thrown over his broad shoulders as he leaned down to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. “We’re not done yet, mama,” he murmured against her lips. “Not until I’m satisfied.”

He thrust back into her, deeper this time, and her overstimulated body arched off the bed as the sensation bordered on too much. “Daddy, I—” she tried, but the words were lost as another scream ripped from her throat.

“That’s it,” Aaron groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “Take it all. Take every last fucking drop.”

When he finally came, it was with a guttural moan that sent shivers down her spine. He buried himself deep, his warmth spilling inside her as his body trembled against hers. For a moment, the room was silent except for their ragged breathing, their bodies tangled together in the aftermath.

Aaron leaned down to kiss her forehead, his thumb brushing away the tears that streaked her cheeks. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with adoration. “But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off easy next time.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre smut #black!reader #ruewrites #aaron pierre x black!reader #aaron pierre x fem!reader #aaron pierre x plus size!reader

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snaileer · 6 months ago

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Call to my Bedside - 3

Part 1:

When Maddie wakes up with chains around her wrists and a pounding her head, she is surprised to see her family in front of her.

As she blinks in the darkness, ignoring the way her eyes won’t focus, her surprise gradually washes into fast-paced terror.

It’s not just her family in front of her, but also her children’s friends. Her son’s friends.

But her son is nowhere to be seen. Amongst the grime and dinge of the space, there is no unruly mass of black hair.

She counts again. 1, 2-

1, 2,-

Her son exists as a group of three to her.

Jazzy, Jack, and Danny.

Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, and Danny.

But- she counts again.

1, 2- 1, 2-

Her son is not here. Danny is not here.

Her family is injured, Jazz and Jack in one cell and the kids in another, her in yet one more, and her son is missing.

Maddie tries to remember what happened, why she is injured, where they are, why-

There were people, she had fought them, all black clothes and blades, Jazz had come downstairs at the sound, Jack had defended her, Maddie watched them both go down under a blow, the distraction enough- Danny had never come home from school.

Her husband starts to rouse, a low groan.

“Jack.” She whispers harshly, “Jack!”

“Maddie-kins?” Jack mumbles, trying to push himself upright but stumbling when he realizes his hands are bound together by manacles.

His are not chained to the wall like her own, but they are still heavy steel.

“I’m here Jack, I’m alright,” She can see him turn to her in the dim light, “Banged up, but alright.”

Indignant anger flashes across her husband’s face, “Who did this? What happened-those people!” Jack increasingly gets louder, “The ninja people! They got past our ghost barrier-!”

“They’re not ghosts, hun,” Maddie cuts in, making him look over.

Some of his righteous exuberance fades, “Then why..?”

Maddie shakes her head, immediately regretting it, headache increasing as she tries to talk, “I don’t know. But Jack, Danny’s not here, I don’t know where he is, but he never came home, something’s wrong-“

“Danno!” Jack yells, looking frantically over the group through the bars between them.

Finally, his volume seems to rouse the others. Sam and Tucker both wake with a lurch, Jazz soon on their heels with a groan.

“Danny!” Sam yells, looking around them, “They got Danny!”

“And my tech!” Tucker yells, hands patting himself down.

Sam glares at him, “That’s what you’re worrying about?!”

“What, like having a satellite capable PDA wouldn’t be helpful right now!? Danny told us to run, you’re the one who made us stay-!”

“We weren’t gonna leave him-“

“Oh well look at us now, we’re not doing much better than-“

“Kids!” Maddie yells, and their heads snap over to her, “What are you talking about? Where’s Danny?”

For some reason they both seem to glance at Jazz before answering, receiving a hesitant nod.

Sam started, “We don’t know where he is now, but we were walking home and something exploded-“

“We thought it was just another ghost attack!” Tucker cut in, looking increasingly distressed, “But then Danny was fighting off these freaky ninja people, and telling us to run-“

“But we couldn’t just leave him there! We tried to help-

“There were so many, and they grabbed us and then we saw them grab Danny and…-“ Tucker stopped, looking down at the chains on his wrists, “And then we woke up here…Mrs.Fenton, where are we?”

“I don’t know, hun,” Maddie looked at her son’s friend, then to her own daughter, her husband, “But we’ll figure it out. And then we’re going to find Danny.”

Jack beamed at her, his trust in her confidence shining through.

She wished she believed it even half as much.

——

The first time they come, a group of five people, still dressed in black, weapons lining their body, Maddie yells and shouts. Demands they tell her where Danny is. They are silent.

They methodically go to each of their cells in pairs, one pointing a gun and the other setting down a bag of food. Military rations.

She screams and yells the entire time.

When they go to Maddie’s cell last, removing one arm from her shackles so she can eat, she takes advantage, lashing out with a yell and just as much anger as vicious desperation.

She punches the one nearest, a sloppy front kick displacing the other’s gun pointed at her.

Before she can attack again, one arm still pulled back to the wall behind her, the click of a safety coming off silences her.

The rest of the chapter is thru Ao3, cuz Tumblr says its too long. *^*

Tags:

@thecrystallabyrinth @isnt-that-grape @riverdancingwerewolves @mimblizzy @chaos-deimos-et-eris @miraculousandmore2 @mys-tia @jitteryjuttury @moonlight-opal @nerdypaintbrush @thedragonqueen1998 @luminanightfall @cowarddragon @cyrwrites @kamireadsmcu @manapeer @imaginationmademanifest

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earthchica · 5 months ago

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Right My Wrongs | 2

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: You attempt to move on from Terry and explore a new relationship, but Terry discovers this and refuses to let you go.

warning: ANGST, a little fluff, emotions, heartache, new character, pleading, complicated situation, co-parenting, six-year-old daughter, name calling &, etc.

note: thank you so much for the love on the first part. This might be a little mini-series; I have a whole lot to write. <3

series masterlist

It's been three months, and you were doing much better than before, but a sense of loss and longing remained in your heart.

Terry has respected your wishes, kept his distance, and is cordial with you when Jasmine is around.

You wish things were different between you and him, but it aren't, so you need to move on.

You've been on multiple dates with a few guys, but unfortunately, none have sparked your interest.

Jasmine asked about these dates and wondered what happened with you and Terry.

She hoped you two would finally get togather since Terry wasn't seeing Olivia anymore.

Yet, she noticed a difference in the way you two behaved towards each other.

You attempted to explain the situation to her as clearly as possible, but it only made her feel sadder.

Jasmine expressed her true feelings on the matter, leaving you feeling disappointed for making your daughter feel that way.

Because of that, you almost abandoned the idea of dating again until your friend Bri convinced you to go on a date with her brother.

His name was Marcus, and you've met him once or twice, and he was always sweet.

So there you stood, next to him, in a sexy, form-fitting black dress that highlighted your curves.

Your hair was styled in a slicked-back ponytail, and your makeup was subtle.

This had to be your fifth date with Marcus, and it's been going pretty great so far.

Marcus was a tall, slender man with a deep brown complexion and brown hooded eyes.

He was not only handsome and sweet, but he also dedicated his life to saving lives as a firefighter.

Marcus radiated an irresistible charm and sweet bliss that truly captivated you.

You might say he was the perfect guy, but you longed for someone else, and that was Terry.

Maybe you could settle for Marcus, and down the line, you fall in love with him.

"Hey, you good? " He asked, cutting you out of your thoughts with his husky voice.

Marcus smirked when you made eye contact, shuffling and coming closer to you.

You nodded "Yeah...."

"Do ya want to get out of here?" His voice dripped with a lustful tone that sent a shiver down your spine, leaving you intrigued.

"And go where?" you replied. Maybe you could also have fun with him first, but you had to be careful.

Marcus rested his hands on your lower back, and his lips drew closer to your ears.

You could feel the warmth of his breath trailing on you, straightening your back a little.

"Somewhere private. What do ya say, beautiful?" Marcus whispered, moving away to gaze into your eyes.

That night ended with you two having hot, wild, rough sex, which you really needed.

You, of course, used protection and were totally satisfied; Marcus knew how to dick a girl down.

The sudden ringing of your phone disrupted the peace, prompting a groan out of you.

You reached for your phone, checked the time, and noticed it was almost noon.

You answer the call.

"Hello?" You spoke in a low, indistinct voice, and there was a brief silence before the sound of a familiar voice reached your ears.

"Hey, baby girl," Terry answered.

"Uh, hey, Terry," You said, clearing your throat. You sat up slowly so as not to wake Marcus up.

"I was just calling to see if you were alright. And are you still coming to pick up Jazzy,"

"Shit...uh, yeah," You replied, gently releasing yourself from Marcus's hold before rising from the bed to make your way to the bathroom.

"Hey, beautiful, come back to bed!" Marcus mumbled in a drowsy state; you gestured for him to lower his voice.

He winked at you with a lazy smirk, and in response, you rolled your eyes and returned your attention to your phone.

"Who the hell was that? Are-are you seeing someone?" Terry asked in a tone filled with aggravation and panic.

"It's none of your business, Terry. I'll be over there to pick up Jazzy. Okay?" You uttered coldly and abruptly hung up the phone before he could respond.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror; your makeup was messy, and your hair was frizzy and wild, but nothing you couldn't fix.

You began your morning routine while Marcus was still sleeping in your bed.

Once you walk out of the bathroom fully dressed. You sighed, seeing him still asleep.

You wake him up, and he groans and turns over his side to look at you.

"Time to go?" Marcus asked, a slight smirk on his face while sitting on his back.

"Yeah, I have to pick my daughter I'm sor-" You started, and he cut you off.

"No, no, it's fine. I was just hoping to have lunch with you, but I get it," He says with a playful smirk, then gets out of bed to get dressed.

You waited for him downstairs. As he walked towards you, you turned and gazed at him, and he greeted you with a smile.

You laced your hands behind his neck and pulled him closer to your face; his hands found your sides.

"Marcus, you're a great guy, and I like you, and I want something out of this than just sex, if that makes sense."

"Hey, it's okay. I want something more, too, sugar," He says before leaning in and kissing your cheek.

"For real?" You asked with a slight smile, which made him grow a much bigger one.

"For real, beautiful," he said with a nod. You smiled and kissed him passionately.

Meanwhile, Terry felt his heart sink as he realized you might be with another man.

Terry couldn't shake the thought from his mind: "You were with another man."

The words echoed in his head until he flinched out of it when he heard the voice of his daughter calling him.

"Daddy, are you okay?" she asked, confused while gazing at him from where she stood.

"Yeah, princess. Shouldn't you be getting ready?; your mom will be here soon," he said, quickly putting his phone down and tucking it away.

"Daddy, I can tell when you're lying. I know something happened between you and Mommy; she's been going on dates," she said, sighing.

Her eyes filled with concern as she sat beside him on the couch. Terry heaved a sigh, the weight of his mistakes.

"Yeah, figure that. I messed up really bad, Jazzy; she's upset with me and probably hates my guts."

"She doesn't, Daddy. You can fix it, and you can make her happy again. You both need each other; I need you together, I-I" she stopped, looking down at her hands.

"What is it, Jazzy?" Terry asked, gently placing his hand on her tiny shoulder, conveying his worry and care for her.

"I don't like going back and forth between houses. I wish we could all be together and live as a family—I told mommy...that's all the kids at my school have. I always wanted that. I don't like you and Mommy not talking and being happy like you used to," she explains.

Terry felt a deep pang of sorrow as he listened to his daughter's words.

He tenderly drew her into his embrace, comforting her as she shed a few tears.

"It's okay, baby. I'm so sorry; we've tried to make this work as best as possible."

"You can try harder, Daddy. Fix it with Mommy. Don't you love her?" She asked, looking up at him with her light eyes that matched his.

At that moment, Terry found himself wrestling with a tangle of emotions.

He was in love with you, but his fear and foolishness prevented him from acknowledging his true feelings.

The idea of you being with another man was too much for him to handle.

"I do, princess. I love her so much." Terry felt a profound sense of relief as he finally confessed his feelings.

There was something incredibly liberating about sharing this with his daughter.

"You have to tell her then; I'm sure she'll find it in her heart to forgive you…She loves you; she always has," she says, her eyes sparkling with hope as she smiles.

"Okay, Jazzy. I'll try," Terry said softly, with a warm smile. She nodded with an even more radiant smile.

You arrived at Terry's apartment door and were about to knock when it swung open, revealing your daughter, Jasmine.

"Mommy, can we please stay for dinner with Daddy? He made pasta and garlic bread," Jasmine begged without saying hello to you.

"Wow, no, hi, hello, mommy. I missed you, nothing?" you asked in a playful tone.

"Sorry," She giggled joyfully and wrapped her arms tightly around your waist.

"Hi, Mommy. I missed you so much," she exclaimed with genuine warmth.

"That's more like it, and I missed you too, baby. Were you good for your dad?" You asked with a slight chuckle.

You both enter Terry's apartment, greeted by the aroma of a home-cooked meal.

"Yeah, I was good. So...Is that a yes?" Jasmine asked, crossing her fingers with a hopeful smile.

You briefly looked down at her, then shifted your gaze to the big window, lost in thought for a moment.

"I don't know, Jazzy. Did you ask your dad if it was ok?" You asked, looking back at her.

"No need. I would love for you two to stay for dinner, only if you want to," Terry says, adding to the conversation.

His intense gaze met yours as he stood before you, clad in a snug gray T-shirt and jeans accentuating his muscular form.

"Just do it for Jazzy," you repeat these words, reassuring yourself that everything will be okay.

"I guess we can stay for dinner," You said with a small smile, shifting your gaze to your daughter, who looked so joyful.

"YAYYY!!! Thank you, Mommy," Jasmine yelled joyfully and enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around your waist once more.

You reciprocated her hug with a warm chuckle, and said, "You're welcome, baby."

"Come on," With a gentle tug, she beckons you into the quaint dining room while Terry quietly follows suit and graciously pulls out your chair.

"Thank you," you murmured, feeling a bit shy, and he nodded in response.

Terry proceeded to carry the steaming, appetizing food to the table. The dish looked and smelled absolutely delightful.

"That looks good, Daddy," Jasmine smiles, getting garlic bread with her pasta on her plate.

You nodded in agreement with Jasmine, expressing your approval to Terry.

"Yeah, Terry, this dish looks really appetizing. I'm sure it's going to taste amazing."

"Thanks, girls, I really appreciate both of you," Terry says warmly, flashing a charming smile.

Terry blessed the food, and you all began to eat and engage in light, casual conversation.

"Mommy, can we stay and watch TV?" Jasmine asked, her eyes filled with hope.

"No, Jazzy. You only asked to stay for dinner, and I'm pretty sure your dad has company coming over," you said, rolling your eyes.

"He doesn't, mommy. I promise...It's gonna just be three of us, right, Daddy?" Jasmine asked with a little grin.

You were keenly aware of her intentions, and you were certain her little plan would not work.

You shot a quick look at Terry, who had a slightly nervous expression on his face.

"Yeah, come on, baby girl. Just one show, and that's it," Terry says with a small smile.

You just gave him a hesitant look, and then there was a knock on the door.

Terry sighed and politely excused himself, reaching the door to answer it.

Once he disappeared from view, you turned your attention to Jasmine.

"Okay, Jazzy. What's going on?" You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest and looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"What do you mean, Mommy? " she asked, looking at you innocently and shrugging shortly.

"You know what I'm talking about, little girl. We talked about this," you told her, uncrossing your arms.

"Just wait and see, Mommy," Jasmine says sassily. You look at her shock and wonder where she got that from. *you silly*

Terry returned with a large bouquet containing a mixture of your three favorite flowers.

"Woah, Daddy! Who are those for?" Jasmine asked with a giggle as she watched the expression on your face.

The delicate beauty of flowers always captivated you, and receiving them never failed to fill you with an indescribable sense of joy and warmth.

"These are for your mother. It looks like she's got a secret admirer," Terry said, giving you the flowers.

You took the flowers from Terry's hands, feeling his fingers brush against yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

You cleared your throat and moved away, giving Terry and Jasmine both a look before smelling the flower.

"Hmm, I guess we can stay and watch a show," you said with a shrug while rolling your eyes.

You three were cozied up on the couch, engrossed in an episode of Family Feud.

Jasmine gradually drifted into a peaceful slumber as the show progressed, finding comfort in Terry's embrace.

Terry took her to the other room, and when he came, you two discussed watching another episode.

"Oh shit, is it really three pounds?" You inquired, glancing over at Terry, who was chuckling and shaking his head in amusement.

"I am unsure," he says nonchalantly, lifting and dropping his broad shoulders in a casual shrug.

Steve Harvey on TV: Name a salad dressing that you see at a salad bar.

Both you and Terry simultaneously exclaimed, "Ranch," but then you quickly added, "I said it first."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did," you playfully remarked, jabbing your finger into his chest, teasingly referring to him as "applehead."

Terry chuckled as he gestured toward the TV screen. "Well, even if you did, they've already said 'Ranch,' he remarked.

"Mmm, whatever," you said, playfully rolling your eyes at him with a hint of amusement.

Steve Harvey on TV: Name something that happens in April.

The phrase "April Fools" echoed in unison from both of you once more.

A brief moment of shared laughter passed as you exchanged glances before refocusing on the television.

"I guess you can say I won," you said, rising from the plush couch, gracefully bowed and waved, silently mouthing "thank you" with a grateful smile.

"I didn't know it was a competition, baby girl." Terry lets out a hearty laugh as he rises to his feet and positions himself before you.

"Well, it was, so I won! What you gotta say to that, applehead," You said with a giggle, moving closer to him.

"You betta stop calling that," he said gently, tickling you, making you laugh.

Terry's heart couldn't help but flutter joyfully as your laughter filled the air.

You abruptly ceased laughing, feeling captivated as you shifted your gaze back and forth between his pretty eyes and his luscious, plump lips.

Terry leaned in, and you gave in to the kiss despite wanting to stop him.

The electric sensation you felt during the kiss, the comforting strength of his embrace, you shake your head before pulling away.

"Um...thanks for dinner, Terry. I know It means a lot to Jasmine. It's time to go. Yeah, it's time," You were about to leave, but Terry quickly intervened and stopped you."

"Hey, you can't just walk away after that," Terry's voice trembled with emotion as he reached out to hold both of your hands.

"Terry-" You began speaking, but he silenced you with a gentle touch on your lips.

"Please just listen. I'm sorry for a lot of shit I put you through; you never deserved it. You've been the best thing ever to me, and I've taken you for granted. I want to right my wrongs; I want to fix them. I'm tired of this tension between you and me. I want us to move past this and become like we used to be but different; I want us to be a family, for real this time." Terry said, a few tears streaming down his face as he continued.

"You love me, I know you do, and I love you, and I always have; I know it may be hard to believe, but I do love you, baby girl. I'm in love with you and don't want to lose you to someone else; give me a chance, baby. I know actions speak louder than words, but I just....need you to tell me it's okay," Terry said, his eyes searching yours for hope.

His words were sincere and borne the weight of his emotions, and you longed to hear that from him.

Though your simmering anger and stubborn pride obstructed your way, you didn't know if you could let go of the hurt.

"You must think I'm a damn fool, huh? You had plenty of opportunities to tell me how you felt, but you waited until Imma trying to move on to confess your feelings, huh? No, Terry." You said, shaking your head.

"No...I don't. I'm the damn fool, really...I know, I know. Come on...baby girl, you don't even want to try to give me a chance. Let me fix it; let's try to fix it. I want you, and only you, baby girl; I fucking love you, please," Terry pleaded, dropping down on both knees.

"Terry, stop. Please get up." You said, tightly gripped his shirt and yanked him upward, but he clutched onto your legs, pleading with you.

"Please," He whispered lowly. You are getting a little overwhelmed with emotions.

"I can't, I just can't," you said, harshly pushing him away before rushing to get Jasmine from the other room. "She can, but she is afraid."

You gently awakened her, whispering that it was time to say bye and go home.

As you gathered her belongings and prepared the car, you waited patiently for her to join you.

"Bye, Daddy," She said, kissing his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Bye, princess. See you next week," Terry said in a low voice, desperately trying to hold back his emotions to shield his daughter from noticing his heartache.

#rebel ridge #aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #black fem reader #black!fem!reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond angst #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre x black reader

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chanranghaeys · 7 months ago

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🥛 just like a tattoo

Waking up was always something you looked forward to, especially if the first sight in the morning is Vernon and his hidden little secrets, and maybe his cute chocolate milk carton.

pairing: idol!tattooed!vernon x afab!reader word count: 1.3k tags: slice of life, fluff first thing in the morning, vernon has multiple tattoos (in my head) listed in detail warnings: slight sexual overtones, pg-13 at most 😇

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The light burns through your eyes, waking you from a dreamless slumber. Looking around, you find the source of the almost blinding glare: the patch of sun bleeding through the curtains of the already-lightened room. You glance at the clock hanging from the wall across you. It was 8 am on a Sunday—a perfect reason to sleep in.

You slowly move around the bed and find that you are already wearing a slightly loose shirt and panties. Memories of last night flood your mind and you close your eyes again almost as if in bliss. It’s been a good two weeks since you two spent the night together, and while you both maybe kinda slightly expected it, both of you were still surprised at how deep the need was for one another, as evidenced by the slight ache in your thighs and back while you moved. Nothing you couldn’t manage, but definitely more reason to just stay in bed.

When you turn again, you see his slim figure leaning against the door frame and you wonder how long he’d been watching you toss and turn. He had no shirt on because you realized that you had his shirt on your back, and his boxers were slung dangerously low as if haphazardly thrown on. And while you’ve marveled at this sight too many times than you can count, you still can’t help but look at his body in awe.

People could say he had a sleeper bod, and you agreed, but it wasn’t something he cared for. If he was healthy and able to move about, he was content with that. But with all the activity his job demanded, his body followed suit. He wasn’t all muscle or all skin, but he was built sturdily and toned in the places that got the most use—that is to say, his arms, thighs, and core. His naturally light skin tone almost looked sallow in the places that didn’t get much sun, but it only enhanced what he permitted only your, and very few other, eyes to see.

Strokes of black both thick and thin were scattered across his torso in a most curated manner. They weren’t a lot, but you knew that his tattoos were his most well-kept secret from the K-pop industry, and you knew it was the deepest privilege to be able to even have a glimpse of one, much less all that can be hidden behind a shirt. You’ve memorized all of them at this point.

On his right chest near his lower rib was a simple line of text in all caps inspired by a line from “The Matrix”: SEE IT FOR YOURSELF. Another text tattoo lined the left side of his torso, this time a vertical stack of letters spelling out MELODY—once a temporary tattoo for a concert, now permanent to forever honor his mother.

There was one tattoo that he knew people were aware of and didn’t mind much, and that was the small star tattoo at the back of his right ear’s helix, but little did people know that it was only one of a series, with the rest of the small stardust sparkles smattering his back near his right shoulder blade. Specifically, there were five of them, one representing each member of his tight-knit family, including Jazzy and Leo Chwe.

Amidst the minimalist tattoos was one that stood out as more realistic than others—a medium-sized sunflower head on his left hip, its petals you could see right now peeking from the top band of his boxers. People knew of his sister Sofia’s own sunflower tattoo down her left thigh, but fewer people knew that when she was 17 and he was 23, they both talked about how they’d get matching sibling tattoos and their discussion landed on sunflowers. While Vernon wished he could place it in a more prominent spot, he knew better than to do such a thing.

“Did you sleep well, baby?” His deep morning voice broke your reverie as you finally settled on his eyes, his gaze forever the most piercing one you never could break. You gave him a lazy, mischief-laden smile.

“The best sleep I’ve had in weeks. I guess I have someone to thank for making sure I was knocked out last night.”

He let out a light-hearted scoff and drank from his chocolate milk carton. “You know that I was just following your lead, right? I asked you what you wanted, I just gave it to you.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes, recalling how you were practically begging him with tears in your eyes—the utter hold he had on you was intoxicating. It was those clear brown eyes, you swore so. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too.” At that, he gave you the softest smile and his gaze eventually followed suit.

“I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I hate you.��

He laughed again and shifted his weight off the door frame and moved toward you. You sat up to meet him in an embrace, your head resting on his warm chest as he kissed your head.

“Can we stay in, Nonie? Please? Pleaseeeeeee?” You look up at his raised eyebrow and pursed lips, swearing you will never get tired of his expressions that said exactly what he was thinking. Right now it obviously said, “Are you kidding me right now?”

“What if…” You trailed off mid-sentence as you lowered your hands to the waistband of his boxers, brushing your thumb over the sunflower’s petals suggestively. At that, he drew in a sharp breath and stepped away. He knew what you were capable of, so he had to stop it right there.

“Easy, young lady. You know we won’t get anywhere with that attitude of yours. We’ll be late if you keep that up.” The scene was comical, his serious expression and pointed finger at you in warning just did not suit the fact that his other hand held an unfinished milk carton.

You grab the carton from his hand and take a generous sip, grateful for the cool and sweet liquid down your parched throat. “Fine. But could you at least make me coffee? Or something that will wake me up more than this chocolate milk of yours?”

“It’s in the kitchen. I also made French toast!” His smile as he said this was so bright, it was the gummy smile you so loved from him. But it was what he said that made you stop mid-sip of milk.

“You what?”

“I made French toast. And bacon and eggs because it was the easiest after the French toast, which was not as easy as it looked when I did it with you.”

“And you made coffee?”

He shrugged. “I knew you were gonna wake up late,” finishing with a smirk. “Now come on. And give me back my milk carton before you finish it all.” He took back his drink and did not leave your side until you finally stood your lazy ass up. “There’s my good girl,” he says, followed by him slapping said ass teasingly, then walking out of the room with a final grin.

When he faced his back to you, you saw the most recent tattoo he got: a minimalist rendition of a rock with googly eyes on the small corner of its lower left. You remember watching “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once” in the cinema with him, the last full show of the day, and he would not shut up about it. You got it though, you truly did, and you’d both talk for hours on end about the film. So it was decided: it was the first matching tattoo you got together.

Could love really be this easy? You thought to yourself, as you smiled and got ready for payback.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: frickin’ vernon and his damn hip tattoo living rent-free in my headcanons. i blame my friends for planting this idea in my head and as a result, this came to be. i shall now leave you all with this mental image so i do not suffer alone HEHE

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writteninlunarlight-years · 5 months ago

Text

I Have You Now

RadioApple X Reader

This is based on the song "Rule #34—Fish Inside a Birdcage", which is one of my all-time favorite bands. I have never written a poly story, but let's try it.

TW: AFAB Reader, Tentacles, Bondage, Sexual relations, Rough Sex, Polyamory, Voyeurism

The jazz club pulsed with electric energy, a tapestry of laughter and low, sultry whispers weaving through the air. Alastor had chosen this vibrant haven for a reason—it was the perfect backdrop to deepen his connection with Lucifer, a bond that had grown richer and more adventurous. They were both searching for new experiences to ignite the flames of their passion and tonight, they were ready to explore uncharted territories.

With a sly glint in his eye, Alastor had orchestrated a plan, putting out feelers for a captivating beauty who could match the formidable allure of both himself and Lucifer. And oh, how Mimzy had delivered.

Alastor had visited the enchanting woman alone on numerous occasions, each rendezvous filled with tantalizing anticipation and whispered secrets. But tonight was different; Lucifer had expressed a desire to join him, to meet the woman who had trapped Alastor’s thoughts and desires.

They held a sacred agreement in their unique relationship: no touching unless permission was granted beforehand. Alastor, the more primal of the two, had always taken the lead in selecting who would grace their bed. Still, this woman had become an irresistible obsession, drawing him back repeatedly. Lucifer craved a taste of her allure, and Alastor was eager to share.

As the lights dimmed, anticipation crackled, and a hush swept over the crowd. The stage bathed in a soft, seductive glow, and a striking sinner emerged, her silhouette draped in a deep red sequin dress that caught the light like shimmering embers. She gripped the microphone with effortless grace, her voice emerging as a breathy caress that wove through the jazzy notes, wrapping around each listener like a lover’s embrace.

The audience was spellbound, whistling and hollering, their enthusiasm palpable. Her body was a work of art—every curve and contour mesmerizing, her face a fascinating blend of beauty and mischief. But her voice, a sultry hymn that stirred something primal in the hearts of all present, truly captivated them.

How envious they would be if they knew that this intoxicating siren, whose soft melodies filled the room, would soon be screaming and begging in ecstasy between the two most powerful beings of hell.

As her set unfolded, each song seemed to heighten Lucifer’s intrigue. His eyes were glued to her as she danced with a sultry confidence, the sequins of her dress glinting and shimmering until, by the last number, it transformed into a daring bodysuit that left little to the imagination.

“She wears that when we meet her in the back…” Alastor’s warm breath ghosted over Lucifer’s neck, a stark contrast to the cool shivers that coursed down his spine at the sound of her voice. Nodding helplessly, Lucifer surrendered to the enchantment, finally understanding why Alastor had been so drawn to this woman, even without sharing a bed.

As Mimzy took the stage to gently usher away the hopeful souls desperate for the sinner’s attention, Alastor felt a thrill of anticipation. Tonight wasn’t just about his time with Y/N but about witnessing the intoxicating dance between Lucifer and this mesmerizing enchantress.

The night was still young, and the promise of passion loomed just around the corner, ready to unfold in a symphony of desire and exploration.

Helping Lucifer to his feet, Alastor guided him toward the VIP section of Mimzy's club, the air thick with anticipation and the heady scent of desire. As they entered, they were greeted by a living tapestry of beauty and seduction—Y/N and several other enchanting women glided gracefully between tables, their laughter and whispers mingling with the sultry jazz that filled the room. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the soft sounds of debauchery, a siren call for those ready to indulge.

Alastor felt a primal thrill surge through him; if Lucifer felt the same magnetic pull toward Y/N, he was ready to bring her home with them—Mimzy's rules be damned. Lucifer sank into one of the plush green armchairs, enveloped in comfort, while Alastor stood protectively behind him, his hand resting gently on his shoulder.

When Y/N locked eyes with them, it was as if a spark ignited between them. She was adorned in her stunning deep red sequin bodysuit, each facet glimmering as she moved. Her black strappy heels accentuated her long legs, and a bright red boa draped around her arms like a lover’s embrace.

Lucifer's thoughts spiraled into delicious fantasies of restraint and pleasure, envisioning all the ways he could tie her up, making her plead for his attention. Meanwhile, Alastor couldn't help but imagine the intoxicating sight of Lucifer and this captivating woman beneath him, utterly powerless and exquisite.

As she approached, Y/N gracefully settled onto Lucifer’s lap, her chest tantalizingly close to his face, and glanced up at Alastor with a playful pout on her candied lips.

“Oh, so he’s the one you brag about, Ali… He is handsome… such pretty porcelain skin…” Her perfectly manicured nails traced a delicate path down Lucifer’s cheek to the bowtie around his neck, tugging playfully.

The tension in Lucifer’s pants grew unbearable as he emitted a low growl, gripping the sides of his chair tightly to restrain himself from taking her right then and there.

“Alastor has spoken of you often, Miss Y/N, yet your beauty transcends mere words…” His voice was rich and husky, the evidence of his arousal only fueling her desires as she shifted, straddling him with a sultry grace.

“Hmmm, Ali seems to do a lot of talking. I am more of an actions woman myself.” She ran her hands along Lucifer’s arms, guiding them to her hips, her body pressing against him. A sweet, delicate moan escaped her lips as she ground against his growing need.

“My, my, you two! Had I known this visceral reaction would happen, I would have introduced you sooner,” Alastor said, his desire flaring hotter by the second.

She declined whenever he asked Y/N to be his courtesan, claiming Mimzy offered her everything she needed. But tonight, with Lucifer alongside him, he hoped to show her an unforgettable experience that would change her mind.

Mimzy approached, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “My, my, Alastor, planning to steal my most profitable soul by bringing your boy toy along?”

Alastor smirked, gently taking Y/N’s hand from Lucifer’s shoulder helping her to stand. As she rose, he assisted Lucifer, who was flushed and visibly aroused.

“Now, Mimzy, a real broker, doesn’t show all his cards right away,” Alastor teased, leading Y/N down the hallway toward her room. “We’ll be where I always end up when I visit.”

Y/N’s room was a sanctuary, secluded from the revelry of the club. Mimzy had taken special care to craft a space where her siren voice could enchant without distraction. As they entered, the ruby-red room was aglow with candlelight, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls.

“Hmmm, I hope you two like it,” she purred, pulling away from the men as she sauntered deeper into her domain. Her movements were languid hypnotic, and both men followed her with hungry eyes. She settled onto the bed, legs crossed, leaning back with a flirtatious head tilt.

“Alastor told me we would have company, so I pulled out a nice chair if someone wants to watch.” Her gaze locked onto Alastor, memories of their conversations about wanting to witness the passionate connection between him and Lucifer swirling in the air.

Alastor brushed past Lucifer before he could speak with a knowing smile, unbuttoning his tailcoat and flaring it behind him as he sat in the plush armchair. A lazy, lust-filled smile spread across his face, ready to indulge in the exquisite scene unfolding before him.

"Go ahead, my dear. She is all yours...for now." Once permission was granted, it was as if a dam had broken. Lucifer approached, his heart racing as he followed the sultry path the woman had taken to her bed. Standing before her, he gazed down at her alluring, half-naked form, the soft glow of candlelight accentuating every curve.

She looked up at him, her eyes ablaze with a fire rivaling the depths of hell. Slowly, Lucifer reached for the boa that draped around her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her skin as he pulled it into his hands, feeling the luxurious fabric slip through his fingers.

"Look at me. Don’t stop looking into my eyes. Right now, you are mine, all mine, so just give in to me." She nodded, entranced by his words, surrendering as he guided her gently down onto the plush bed.

“Hmmm, do be gentle with her, Lucifer. I plan to ravish you both the moment you have your fill.” The playful threat hung in the air, a compelling promise that sent shivers down their spines. Both panting softly, they exchanged heated glances. Lucifer preferred his first time with someone to be slow, savoring each moment.

With a delicate touch, he tied her hands gently with her boa, his fingers gliding down her body, eliciting soft trembles and shudders that only intensified the growing desire within him. Kneeling between her legs, he made sure Alastor could see every intimate moment unfolding.

Lucifer lifted her left leg, placed it on his shoulder, and kissed his way up her inner thigh, taking his time to savor her. Each kiss drew forth beautiful moans. Her lips parted slightly, releasing warm, misty breaths that hung in the air like an intoxicating perfume. Once he finished with the left leg, he mirrored his attentions on the right, each kiss a sweet torment.

With her hands bound, she couldn't tangle her fingers in his hair or grip his arms; she was entirely at his mercy. As he playfully nipped at her ankle, a small drop of blood pooled, and he licked it away, sending a thrill of sensation coursing through her, making her moan once more.

Alastor watched with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her unraveling, whether from the thrill of being watched or the raw power of Lucifer. He relished the pleasure blooming on both their faces.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, leaving her to whine in frustration. He teased, removing his tailcoat and tossing it aside with a flourish. Each pop elicited soft whimpers from her as he unbuttoned his bow tie and vest. “Y/N, you follow orders so well. No wonder Alastor likes you so much; he always loves to give commands.”

As the last button of his dress shirt came undone, he let himself fall gently atop her, supporting himself with his forearms beside her head. “So beautiful, blissed out, and I haven’t touched you yet. It’s true, you know, as Al said… I can change how big and thick it is on a whim, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” Her eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips as his words ignited her imagination.

“Hmmm, how would you like it to be that deep inside you? Rearranging your very insides?” He kissed her neck as he spoke, feeling her breath quicken beneath him. The contrast of his dirty words and sweet actions sent her spiraling into a realm of ecstasy she had never known.

“I think she would like that, Luci. She hasn’t even experienced my appendages yet; I’m sure that will prepare her nicely.” Alastor’s smirk was palpable as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the air thickening with anticipation.

Lucifer sat back on his haunches, eradicating his shirt, revealing his porcelain muscles glistening in the dim light. His soft, yellowed face reflected how utterly captivated he was by her. He undid his pants, kicking them off to reveal his desire, hidden only by a thin layer of fabric.

“Mhm, Lucifer, please... I want it...” Her voice was a sultry whisper, a plea that sent a rush through both men. She had only begged for a handful of guests, but Lucifer's power left her mind reeling, imagining how it would feel to have both of them at once.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, beautiful, and you already want my length inside you. How pitiful. Should I give it to you, Dolly?” He slid the zipper of her bodysuit down her back, knowing they both craved this connection, the thrilling anticipation of feeling one another before being taken by Alastor.

"Yes, please, please take me, then Ali, and you can play with me too..." Her voice was like music to both men's ears as the sentence caused both to moan deeply.

Alastor had eradicated his shirt, his dress pants opened, and his girthy cock out on display. Gentle, soft strokes from his hand as he continued to observe.

Lucifer had the bodysuit off and on the floor, Y/N's bare, beautiful body before him. He kissed her all over, avoiding the one place she needed him most. Letting a hot puff of air cover her sopping-wet pussy.

Finally, Lucifer allowed a hand to grace her folds and gather the slick that was pouring from her entrance. Rubbing her clit gently but at a firm pace, he watched her back arch, and her face contort in pleasure.

"Good girl, such a good girl, let go for me...need you nice and wet for me to fuck you." She babbled and nodded her high climbing. He added his other hand and worked her through not one but two orgasms with his hands alone.

To the side, Alastor moaned deeply at the sight. He couldn't lie. Lucifer was not just good with his forked tongue, but his hands, that of a creator could do magic all on their own. As he watched the slick cover Lucifer's thighs, he struggled to contain himself from going over there and taking them both.

Lucifer pulled away as your recent orgasm washed over you. He loved how your eyes rolled back and your tongue lulled gently out of your mouth. He released his length from his boxers, and he wasn't lying about his changing length.

Before both of your eyes, he had gotten longer and wider as he lined up at your dripping wet hole. Slowly, he entered and, with no patience to wait, bottomed out in you in one thrust.

Your beautiful scream turned moan had both demonic men alter to their demon forms as they listened to your pleas. Lucifer led your legs to his shoulders. As you hooked them behind his ears, he began at a brutal pace.

You felt him hit places that no other patron had hit before. Your eyes were lost in the back of your head as you babbled and begged for more.

The squelching sounds in the room only grew more rampant as Lucifer climbed to his peak. His words of praise and affirmation only spurred you both on.

Alastor growled demonically beside you two as he watched you both become undone. His possessive nature climbed to its rightful place as you both screamed in ecstasy.

Lucifer gently pulled out as soon as you were filled to the brim with his golden seed. He admired how beautifully he leaked out of you. Holding your legs up where they were around him just moments before, he looked at his partner and nodded him over.

"Come look at how pretty gold looks in her..." Alastor hummed; as he stood, his length was fully erect, and he slid off his pants. Climbing in the bed behind his partner, he leaned over his shoulder to look at your cunt.

"Hmmm, truly beautiful Y/N, my sweet boy made you so dirty. Lucifer, flip her around and clean her up, will you." Lucifer nodded and helped get you on your hands and knees. As he lay between your legs, he guided you down on his face and began to devour you.

Once your mouth opened to moan at the overstimulation, Alastor had his cock buried in your throat. He held your hair tight, forcing you to look up at him through your teary eyelashes.

"mhm, look at you, Y/N, you look so beautiful fucked out like this, with Lucifer's pretty face buried in you. Even more beautiful with my cock down your throat" Alastor gripped you tighter as his horns grew larger, and some black slimy tendrils appeared around him.

Your eyes widened as he caressed your face, and the moan on your pussy alerted you that he was also caressing Lucifer.

"Mhm, both of you will be good for me now, and I will give you a treat," Lucifer and you moan, nodding softly as Alastor's tendrils explore your bodies. The more curious of the black slime teasing your ass and gripping around Lucifer's hardening cock.

Alastor guided your head on his cock roughly, gaining more and more speed as he chased his high. The force of his thrust down your throat causes you to rub yourself on Lucifer's face more, making a moaning mess out of both of you.

As climax fast approached for Alastor, he stilled you. He let his cock sit deep in your mouth, a sinister smile painted on his face.

"Bite down, and I will kill you, understand," Before you had time to react to Alastors words, a cold, slimy tendril was entering your ass. Your eyes widened as more tears filled them from the way you were expanded. Once you were full, Alastor began to pump in you again.

Lucifer was gasping and crying under you; Alastor not only had a tendril stroking his cock tightly to mimic your sweet pussy, but he had two holding his legs up and apart so another one could enter him as well.

You were overstimulated and covered in sweat and sex. You had never felt so full and desired. As Alstor used your face and fucked Lucifer into eating you harder, it all became too much for you three.

Before long, three long moans exited you all, static popped, music played, and screams were heard. Each of your complete demon forms taking precedence from the shattering orgasms that filled you all.

Lucifer's cock throbbing from spilling two loads, had managed to cum down your whole back and ass. You covered Lucifer's face in your juices as overstimulation sent you over the edge. Alastor had you covered in his seed from your head to your chin, using his clawed hands to gather some and shove it in your mouth.

Once the appendages melted away, you felt a rush of exhaustion consume you as the suffocating boa constraint was removed. You were laid gently between Lucifer and Alastor, two figures who felt familiar and exhilaratingly dangerous.

Lucifer's warm and gentle hands tangled in your hair, combing through the tousled mess that echoed the wild night you had shared. His touch was soothing, starkly contrasting to Alastor's, whose fingers danced dangerously across your hip, tracing intricate patterns that sent shivers through your body.

As dawn's first light crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the remnants of your night together, you began to pack your belongings. The once vibrant space now felt barren, stripped of its life in anticipation of the next woman who might step into your place as Mimzy's best voice. Yet, as you folded clothes and gathered trinkets, you realized your actual place was not on a stage basking in the spotlight. No, your heart sang harmoniously with these two men, creating a more intimate and profound melody.

"Come on, you two," Alastor urged cooly, a grin spreading across his face. "We don’t have all day! The sooner we return to the hotel, the sooner we can go for round two."

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with mischief at Alastor's teasing words. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he led you toward your new beginning, an uncharted territory filled with promise and passion, where the music of your souls could intertwine once more.

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s4kura-tr3 · 2 months ago

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Nanami kento — slow dancing

Nanami steps into the apartment, the weight of the day etched across his face and shoulders. The door closes with a soft click behind him as he loosens his tie, exhaustion evident in every movement. He’s about to call out to you when a faint, jazzy melody drifts from the kitchen, catching him off guard. His steps slow as he approaches, the sight before him stopping him in his tracks.

There you are, illuminated by the warm glow of the kitchen light, barefoot on the cool tile floor. You’re swaying gently to the music, your body moving instinctively with the rhythm as if the world outside doesn’t exist. Your back is to him, and you’re so lost in the moment that you don’t notice him watching.

A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips despite the exhaustion clinging to him. Setting his briefcase down silently, he shrugs off his coat, leaving it draped over the back of a chair. He steps forward, his polished shoes clicking softly against the floor, but you only notice him when his hands slide around your waist from behind.

You gasp lightly, turning your head just enough to catch his face over your shoulder. “Nanami,” you say with a soft laugh, your voice warm and welcoming. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he murmurs, his deep voice low and calming. His chin rests lightly on your shoulder for a moment, and you feel the tension in his body begin to dissipate.

Turning in his arms, you smile up at him. “Long day?”

His lips press into a thin line as he exhales deeply. “The usual,” he says, his tone quiet, but the weariness in his eyes speaks volumes. Still, as he looks at you, something shifts. The corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly, his gaze softening in the warm light. “But this… this is nice.”

He slides one hand up to cradle the back of your neck, his other resting securely on your waist as he gently pulls you closer. Without another word, he begins to sway with you, his movements slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of the music.

You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers lightly brushing the fabric of his shirt. “You’re full of surprises,” you tease gently, your voice light and teasing, but your eyes hold nothing but affection for him.

“I could say the same about you,” he replies, his tone low but amused. “Dancing in the kitchen at this hour… You’re something else.”

You chuckle, leaning your forehead against his chest as you relax into him. “Thought it might be nice to wait up for you. Guess I was right.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound deep and comforting. “You always are.”

The music shifts to a slower, more sultry tune, and Nanami guides you effortlessly into a spin, surprising you with his grace. You laugh softly as he pulls you back to him, his hands firm and grounding. His usual reserved demeanor is gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

For a while, the two of you just dance. The kitchen becomes your little world, the soft jazz filling the air and blending with the quiet hum of the city outside. Nanami’s touch is gentle yet steady, and his tired eyes never leave yours.

When the song finally fades, he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice carrying a depth of gratitude that words can’t fully capture.

“For what?” you ask, your fingers brushing along his jawline.

“For being with me.” His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

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olderthannetfic · 1 month ago

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The Spotify Wrapped wank has died off, but I'm going to revive it for a second because the mechanisms of the wank itself are still bugging me.

The wanksters believed they had identifieed a problem in the aggregate, and decided to tackle it by addressing the individual.

They thought that if one analyzed all the wrapped lists, it would reveal that listeners avoid Black artists (they were working off of an idle assumption and had no numbers to back it, but this ask is about how they addressed the problem they thought existed; how to not freak out over made up bullshit would be another post).

So then to address what they believed to be a widespread cultural bias, they asked individual Spotify users to examine the trends in their own year-end lists, and use shame and guilt to get them to change their habits. And then the wank in your ask box was about how the end-of-year list doesn't actually show what they think it shows and that the initial hypothesis failed to account for factors like non-mainstream music and artists who are neither Black nor White and the fact that Spotify users often listen to music in more than one way.

But what's bugging me is that you got tons of people who did examine the bias in their end-of-year lists and were dismissed for it.

The one that stuck out to me was the anon who said there were tons of Black artists on their list because they listen to Jazz.

The wankers asked them to look at the list and feel shame and guilt for not having enough Black artists. They did as requested, they looked at the list and found too many Black artist to feel the requested emotions.

And then one of the wankers bit back with "Jazz is the least popular genre among Gen Z".

But that's not what they were asked to show, they were asked to examine bias in their *own* musical tastes. The wank was at odds with itself.

If the hypothesis was "certain Black-lead genres are losing popularity among Gen Z", an examination of Gen Z Spotify user's data could support that hypothesis, and the Jazzy anon would be either a tiny blip on the graph or would be too old to be included in the data.

But if the hypothesis is "you, personally, exibit bias in your our own musical taste" then you have to let someone say "I examined it and it's fine".

You also can't cherry pick only the data that does support your hypothesis. You have to actually count the Gen Z kids who love Jazz and see how few there actually are, you can't just chuck them out of your dataset because someone else's data tells you they're low on the graph.

It's like the "climate change is your fault because you chucked that one plastic bottle in the trash instead of the recycling" thing.

It's the usual thing where people are raging at systems they can't reach and decide to fight the other crabs in the bucket.

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donospl · 1 year ago

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Co w jazzie piszczy [sezon 2 odcinek 3]

premierowa emisja 17 stycznia 2024 – 18:00 Graliśmy: Anni Kiviniemi Trio „Gwendolyn” z albumu „Eir” – We Jazz Records Mark Priore Trio “Consolation” z albumu “Initio” – Jazz Eleven Soren Bebe Trio “Summer” z albumu “Here Now” Hans Lüdemann TransEuropeExpress Ensemble “Love Confessions” z albumu “On the Edges 3” – BMC Records Low Fly Quintet „Kom” z albumu „Tankepalass” – Losen…

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emphasisonthehomo · 1 month ago

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Here's some more of the popstar!Buck/metal drummer!Tommy au.

They have a rocky start (◡‿◡✿)

•

“You haven’t even heard him play yet,” Bobby says, looking up at Buck from over the top of his computer screen. He’s on hold with the airline, phone in one hand and a pen in the other.

“He said my work was un-complicated,” Buck knows he’s scowling, but he’s pissed.

“By comparison it is,” Bobby says brusquely, “I’m not a heavy metal expert by any means, but Tommy is an accomplished technical drummer who agreed last minute as a favor. For a very reasonable price, I should add as well.”

“If he’s not going to respect my music–”

“Beggers can’t be choosers,” Bobby interrupts firmly, already lifting his phone back up to his face, “When I spoke to him last night, he said that Wild June was a very ‘cute’ album and that he enjoyed it.”

That stops Buck short… Cute?

“And this was before I gave him the setlist,” Bobby says, “Now shoo.”

Buck still slams the door behind him out of spite. As he stalks back through the hallways and gets closer to the stage, he can hear the rhythmic thudthud of a bass drum. It gets louder and faster the closer he gets, and by the time he’s walking back into the main warehouse, it’s a fast steady bdbdbdbdbbdbdbdbd that hits Buck in the sternum.

Tommy’s sitting behind his kit, twirling a stick in one hand and adjusting his in-ears with another. Hen’s standing next to him, fingertips resting against the strings of her bass. As she starts to play, an easy groove just to warm up, Tommy stops it with the bdbdbdbdbdb. He transitions easily into something a lot slower, almost jazzy, to go along with the notes that Hen is lazily plucking out.

Goddammit.

He is good.

“He’s good right?” Chimney says, standing next to his synth as Buck climbs onto the stage.

Buck frowns deeply and puts in his own in-ears, and Chim starts laughing. Whatever Bobby said about seeing if Tommy was a good fit was clearly just words. Tommy’s going to be their guy, whether or not Buck finds him irritating. It’s way too close for Buck to throw a whole fit and demand that someone else gets brought in. Part of him is still tempted to try.

Distracting himself by waving at Karen in the back, who’s sitting with Maddie and the kids, Buck picks up his guitar. The weight of it feels good as the strap settles on his shoulders, and this at least will work out fine. Buck knows this. Eddie’s already on stage left, guitar slung low on his own shoulder, peering down at his pedals.

They’re opening with Heartbeat Chance because the tempo builds, and it’s an easy way to get the crowd going. The in-ears beep to count them in and then Tommy’s on the kick drum again, but only one this time. Softer, steadier. Mimicry of a beating heart, one two three, before Hen’s bass joins in, and then Eddie with the guitar.

Buck opens his mouth, opens his heart, and sings.

#aron's fic #911 #bucktommy #tevan #popstar au #the going has been good on this but i've been slowing down #hopefully i'll be able to ramp up on it again soon

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starrrcane · 1 month ago

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Memories of Melodies

sevika x reader angst/comfort

summary: As you both reminisce over music, it triggers sevika’s past. You help her find her truest memories, helping her cope with nostalgia

warnings: sad sevika, friendzoned sevika…

notes: hi guys, I actually haven’t written in like 472847 years please bear with me. I love u, drink water, sleep well gn!

Silco’s office was quieter than usual, save for the faint hum of conversation behind his closed door. He was locked in one of his drawn-out discussions with Singed, leaving you and Sevika to fend off the boredom in the corner of the room. Sevika to fend off the boredom in the corner of the room.

You’d been flipping through the records Silco kept on a dusty shelf, intrigued by the eclectic collection. Finding one that seemed interesting, you placed it on the player, letting the soft, jazzy melody fill the room.

Sevika, lounging in a chair with her feet propped up, glanced at you. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping myself entertained,” you said, swaying slightly to the rhythm. “What, does Silco not allow music?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t usually come up.”

You spun around to face her, your expression suddenly curious. “Do you have a favorite song?”

Sevika snorted. “No.”

“No?” You stared at her like she’d just admitted to hating puppies. “How can you not like music? That’s basically a crime!”

“It’s just... not my thing,” she said, avoiding your gaze.

“Why?” you pressed, dramatically clutching your chest as if her indifference physically pained you. Sevika sighed, her brows knitting together in annoyance—or perhaps something deeper. “It’s complicated.”

“Well, I’ve got time,” you said, leaning on the edge of Silco’s desk and grinning at her.

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression guarded. Then, almost imperceptibly, her shoulders sagged. “My mom used to sing to me,” she said, her voice low and distant.

You immediately dropped the teasing tone. “Oh...”

“She’d sing the same song every night before bed,” Sevika continued, her gaze fixed on some point in the room that only she could see. “After she... after I lost her. I’ve tried to remember it, but it’s like it’s just... gone.” She can’t remember much from her childhood, the effect of the shimmer, alcohol and the air in Zaun had become a triple threat on everyone there, not just her.

Her mechanical fingers flexed slightly, a nervous habit you’d noticed before. “I don’t even know the words anymore. Just bits and pieces.”

You hesitated, watching the way her jaw tightened. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Sevika shook her head, exhaling sharply. “It’s fine. I just...” She paused, searching for the right words. “I miss hearing it. I don’t know why, but I do.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of her admission hanging in the air. Then an idea sparked in your mind, and you straightened. “You know,” you began carefully, “I grew up with this guy who moved to Piltover and became a musician...”

Sevika gave you a skeptical look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” you said, grinning now, “we could go see him. Maybe he could help you figure out the song.” Her eyes narrowed. “Sneak up to Piltover? Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, hopping off the desk. “But wouldn’t it be worth it if we found it?”

Sevika’s gaze flickered with something you couldn’t quite place—hesitation, hope, or maybe just disbelief. “You’d do that for me?”

You rolled your eyes, reaching out to grab her hand and tug her out of the chair. “Duh. You’re my friend.”

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile before she caught herself. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Most good ones are,” you said cheerfully, dragging her toward the door.

“Silco’s going to kill us,” Sevika muttered, but she didn’t pull away.

“Only if we get caught,” you shot back, flashing her a grin.

And just like that, the two of you slipped out into the shadows of the Undercity, the thought of your little adventure pushing everything else to the back of your minds. For now, it was just the two of you, and the distant hope of a song waiting to be found.

The office door creaked as you pushed it open, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “James!” you called, your voice echoing in the cozy space.

A head popped around the corner, the familiar face of your old classmate framed by a cascade of sheet music tacked to the walls. His hair was tousled, and his sleeves were rolled up, as if he’d been in the middle of composing.

He blinked at you . “What are *you* doing here?” He exclaimed in surprise

You walk in father into the room, tossing your bag onto the nearest chair. “You said I could visit whenever I wanted. I’ve got a question for you.”

James raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into view.

You turning back toward the doorway. “C’mon, Sevika,” you called, reaching back to grab her arm. But your fingers only met empty air.

Frowning, you glanced over your shoulder and saw her lingering in the hallway, her broad frame almost comically out of place in the polished, sunlit corridor. She had one hand on the doorframe, her posture stiff as her wary eyes darted around.

“Sevika,” you called again, more insistently this time. “Get in here.”

She peeked her head around the corner, her expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctance. “This was your idea,” she muttered.

“Yeah, and I didn’t drag us all the way up here for you to stand in the hall. Come on,” you said, waving her in like she was a skittish stray.

Sevika hesitated for another moment, then sighed heavily and stepped into the room. Her presence seemed to fill the space instantly, and you could see James’s eyes widen as he took in her towering figure and mechanical arm.

“Well,” James said, his tone lighter but edged with curiosity. “This is... unexpected.”

“James, Sevika. Sevika, James,” you said quickly, gesturing between them. “She’s the one with the question, not me.”

Sevika shot you a glare, but you only smiled back, waiting. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. “This was a mistake,” she muttered.

“No, it wasn’t,” you countered firmly. “Go on. Ask him.”

James leaned against his desk, watching the interaction with mild amusement. “This about music, I assume?”

Sevika finally exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. “There’s... a song,” she began, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know the name, and I don’t remember much of it. But my mom used to sing it to me when I was a kid.”

James’s curiosity sharpened, and he straightened, gesturing for her to continue. “Do you remember *anything*? A melody? A phrase? Even the kind of song it was?”

Sevika hesitated, her eyes flicking to you briefly, as if silently debating whether this was worth the vulnerability. Then, slowly, she nodded. “It was... soft. Lullaby-like. And there was something about stars... or light. I don’t know. It’s been a long time.”

James rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing. “Stars, light, lullaby... That narrows it down a little. Did it sound like this?” He moved to a piano in the corner of the room and played a few tentative notes, forming a gentle, wistful melody.

Sevika’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and her breath caught. “That’s close,” she murmured.

James stopped, tilting his head. “Close, huh? Okay, give me a sec.” He began plucking at the keys again, refining the melody as he worked off her faint memory.

You glanced at Sevika, catching the faintest flicker of emotion in her usually guarded expression. “See?” you said softly. “Worth it.”

Her gaze flickered to yours, and for once, she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned back to James, her guarded mask slipping just a little as she waited, hope glimmering faintly in her eyes.

---

The bathysphere descended slowly, the sound of gears and water pressing against the hull filling the otherwise silent capsule. You sat across from Sevika, knees almost brushing in the cramped space.

Neither of you spoke at first, the weight of the trip lingering in the air. Sevika’s expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on the window where the dim, murky light of the Undercity began to creep back into view.

You busied yourself with your hands, fidgeting absently. Your fingers twisted around each other, tracing over the lines of your palms as you tried to process everything that had happened.

“Thank you,” Sevika said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Your head snapped up, surprised by the softness in her tone. She wasn’t looking at you, though—her eyes remained on the window, her profile lit faintly by the glow of the bathysphere’s controls.

“For what?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“For... all of it,” she said after a moment. “The music. The trip. Dragging me out of there when I wanted to turn back.”

You nodded slowly, looking back down at your hands. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though you knew it wasn’t.

“It’s not nothing,” she countered, her voice firm but not unkind. “You didn’t have to do that. But you did.”

You shrugged, your fingers still restless. “Well... I figured it mattered to you. And that’s what friends do, right?”

Her brow furrowed slightly at the word *friends*, like it was something unfamiliar to her. But she didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, her mechanical arm resting on the edge of the capsule, the faint whir of its servos filling the silence.

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear something close to that song again,” she admitted, her voice low.

You looked up at her then, watching the way her shoulders seemed a little less tense, her usual guardedness softened by the memory.

“Well,” you said, offering a small smile, “maybe next time, we can figure out the rest of it. James loves a challenge.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Next time. Sure.”

The bathysphere jolted slightly as it approached the docking station. You felt the weight of the Undercity settle around you again, the air growing colder, heavier.

Sevika glanced at you, her expression unreadable again. “You’re alright, you know that?”

You blinked at her, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. “I try,” you said, your voice soft.

The door to the bathysphere hissed open, let you off.

#sevika x reader #sevika #sevika angst #sevika imagine #sevika headcanon #sevika arcane #arcane #lesbian #arcane x reader #sevika arcane x reader

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