#do you see the vision? I hope you see the vision

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

my bad (paige x reader)

summary: paige accidentally hits you with a basketball and she feels bad so tries to make it up to you.

content warnings: none!

requested by: anon 💗

It was a warm summers evening in Storrs and there was nothing you and your roommate enjoyed more than ending your day with frozen yogurt.

You had walked to the dessert shop on campus, excited for your sweet treats but there was an unusually long line for this time off the evening. There was a group of girls outside of the shop and as you got closer, you recognised them as the womens basketball team.

There was six of them and all of their faces were familiar. Paige Bueckers, Azzi Fudd, Ice Brady, KK Arnold and two freshmen that, admittedly you didn’t know the names of. They had a ball in tow that they were bouncing and throwing to one another and every now and then, the ball would be dropped and it would roll away and one of them would scramble after it. You giggle as you watch the scene unfold, KK shoving herself into Paige, playfully trying steal the ball from her.

The team was somewhat famous on and off campus. They were the most successful womens basketball program in the nation with the longest winning streaks in college basketball, period. And more recently, the current team had shot to fame on social media and you could see why. Tall, muscular, athletic. The appeal was obvious.

You had been to a few games over your years at UConn and often saw the girls around campus and they seemed nice enough so you had no problem with how boisterous they were being while you waited in line.

“Be honest. Smash or pass?” Your Khloe asks you, catching your gaze focused on the athletes.

“Which one?” You ask back.

“I don’t know, any…the blondie?” She says pointing to Paige and you slap her hand down not wanting them to see her point.

“I don’t know.” You say but you do know and your roommate does too.

“Yes you do. That’s your type all over.” She teases and she’s right. That was your type. Tall, blonde, light eyes, athletic, there was no denying Paige Bueckers was your type.

“Whatever.”

“So…smash or pass?”

“Smash.” You say and your roommate grins but before can even roll your eyes in response, you literally get smashed, right in the face.

You’re thrown off balance and stumble back at the impact before you steady yourself.

“Paige!”

Your eyes are screwed shut as a sharp, stinging sensation spreads over your left cheek, that hurt like a bitch.

“Oh my God! My bad ma, I’m so sorry.” You feel two hands land on your shoulders and when you open your eyes, it takes a second for your vision to clear. When it does, you’re met with Paige, inches away from you, hands on your shoulders, a sorry look on her face.

“Does it hurt?” She asks, bringing her hand up to your face to angle it so she can get a better look at her handy work. Your cheek felt like it was on fire, it was definitely red as hell right now.

Your head spun and you wasn’t sure whether it was because of the unexpected impact or because of the beautiful, blue eyed girl with her hand on your face.

“A little.” You squeak out.

“I am so sorry, I feel so bad. You should ice it. I should get you ice. Where can I get ice? Someone get some ice!” Paige rambles out and you laugh at her frenzied words.

“It’s OK. I’ll survive.” You reassure her and she seems to calm down.

“Your frozen yogurt is on me.” She tell you and you shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I do. I just threw a ball in your face.” She chuckles, finally dropping her hands from your face and shoulder.

“Well, when you put it like that...” You respond, rubbing your cheek in hopes to defuse the pain.

The line moved quick and soon, Paige and her friends were at the counter making their orders and you were up next. Paige insisted on standing beside you until you had ordered, even when her friends went to sit at a table, just so she could keep her promise and pay for you.

“Could we also get a bag of ice for the pretty lady?” Paige interjects after you give your order, “I accidentally smacked her face with my ball.” She over explains and once again brings her hands up to turn your face to the server so he can see the mark, “Look.” She says but the guy behind the counter looks like he couldn’t care less. “I don’t need ice, it’s fine.” You insist and he gets on, adding your chosen toppings to your frozen yogurt.

You’re thankful for your red cheek because the way Paiges slender, slightly calloused fingers held your face so gently and the use of the pet name pretty lady made you blush, hard. You had been single for longer than you’d like to admit so at this point you were touch starved and Paige was feeding you.

She had already started eating her frozen yogurt and as you glanced up at her to thank her for paying, you notice a blob of it on her cheek.

“Um-you- you kinda have…” You point at her face, “some yogurt right here.”

You hate to admit it but you’re mesmerised by the way she flicks out her tongue and wiggles it, trying to swipe the yogurt away.

“It’s still there.” You inform her and she dips her head down, more to your level, “Do you mind?”

Does this girl seriously want me to wipe her face? You thought to yourself.

“Come on, I don’t bite.” She chuckles so you take your finger and wipe the yogurt away, “There.” You say, her face now clean and her next movement makes you raise your brows, taken aback. Her mouth is open, tongue poking out ever so slightly, she wants to lick the yogurt off your finger.

“Seriously?” You ask shocked at her brazen attitude, “You don’t know where my fingers have been.”

“I can only dream.” She smirks and takes it upon herself to guide your finger to her mouth, licking it clean.

“You’re so nasty.” You playfully shove her shoulder.

“A nasty girl who pays for your yogurt.” She says taking your order from the server and handing it to you.

“For real, thank you.” You smile genuinely.

“For real, I’m sorry.” She replies and you tell her it’s fine before turning to leave the store, Khloe waiting for you by the door.

“You’re not sitting in?” Paige asks making you turn around to face her again.

“No, we have…a spot.” You say, referring to yours and Khloes favourite place to eat on campus.

“Ohh, a spot?”

“Mhm.” You nod, taking a spoon full of frozen yogurt into your mouth.

“Where is this spot?”

“I’m gatekeeping.” You tease and Paige pouts exaggeratedly, “Maybe I’ll show you one time.” You offer not actually knowing why you said that and you immediately cringe.

But Paige agrees, “Deal.” She says, holding out her hand for you shake and you do. For someone you only really met a few minutes ago, her hands have been on you quite a bit.

You begin walking to Khloe and by the grin on her face, you know what the topic of conversation will be this evening.

“Wait, how can I reach you?” Paige calls after you, “If it’s meant to be, it will be.” You call back, turning your head to look at the girl one last time.

“I don’t even know your name!”

You shout out your first and last name as you walk out of the shop.

“Did blondie just suck your finger?!” Khloe whisper screams once the door closes behind you.

You laugh, “It was more of a lick.” You say matter of factly.

“But her finger was in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Wow…slutting it up in the Fro-Yo shop. That’s the most action you’ve got all semester.” Khloe jokes.

“Alrighttt, not to much on me and my sex life. I’m going through a drought.” You defend yourself.

“Well, from where I was standing, it’s due to get pretty wet.”

“Shut up!”

You and Khloe head to your favourite spot and eat your frozen yogurt like you did most nights. Side by side on the grass, watching the sunset.

Your phone pings from in your pocket and you pull it out seeing a notification from Instagram.

paigebueckers started following you.

Another notification came through almost instantly.

paigebueckers: its meant to be

“Damn, she’s quick.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: please let me know if you have any requests, id be happy to do them! 💋

[sugar-grigri]

CSM 182 : snow or the power of forgetting

the snow, eaten by CSM recently, forgotten

the snow, the illusion that lulled Aki in his last moments

the snow, chapter 182, where you finally put the pieces together

what does snow mean ?

What if I told you that Denji's reaction to Yoru's ambivalence was the wrong one ?

I'm not talking from a moral point of view, but purely from a narrative one.

What does Yoru actually do by threatening and kissing him ?

It leads to ambivalence, to a striking contrast that is unbearable.

But life is nothing other than this same diluted contrast, this mixture of negative and positive constantly associated.

When Denji says he can't master these two facets, these dirty tricks and all the problems he has to face, that's precisely what has become his worry.

splitting himself, splitting his surroundings, seeing obstacles as ultimatums.

All this may seem off-the-wall and crazy, or like an analysis to justify Yoru's behaviour.

It isn't.

Don't see his kiss as a kiss, but as a narrative perch for Denji to finally face up to himself

Why ?

Dirty things are what he's always hoped for, they seemed in essence extremely positive, they were the way out of his misfortunes

For Denji, doing dirty things inevitably led to happiness.

Denji gradually realises, thanks to several female characters, that these dirty things are not all positive.

You might think that Denji really took his time to realise this...

But it's far from easy for him; for him, life was a deep unhappiness, always, with no prospect of happiness

Or rather, he couldn't see happiness

Because his conception of happiness was restricted to those dirty things

Pochita, Aki, Power, Nayuta, Denji realised his own unhappiness after their disappearance, he only realised the presence of happiness through his loss

Because he hadn't done anything dirty until now!

Until the end of part 1, Denji is trying to rethink his vision of happiness and is trying to break away from normality, to raise his standards higher: eating steak, 10 girlfriends.

Even though he has come close to happiness, Denji doesn't realise it, because since that happiness wasn't eternal, it wasn't happiness.

Happiness remains a way out for him.

Tasting his definition of happiness, being kissed by Yoru, makes him realise that happiness has lost its meaning.

With each kiss, Denji realises that it won't bring him happiness, because it doesn't make him happy.

Little by little, Denji tries to get closer to something for the long term, not the moment.

That's why, he asks if "Asa" loves him.

Can he finally taste that unchanging happiness? Never taste unhappiness again ?

Asa is his downside, her intrusive thoughts, her internal panics, her reflections are preventing her from living in the moment.

And she doesn't want to live in the moment, because she doesn't trust her instincts (when for Denji they are a way out).

Her instincts led her to save a cat, causing the sacrifice of her mother.

But it was Chainsaw Man who made her realise that life can be excruciatingly bitter and sometimes sweet.

Inhabited by Denji, who is as lost.

How could Denji say something as right as that crap burger if he's lost too ? Life is disgusting, it's tiring and yet we keep eating this burger, thinking of dogs, cats and ice cream.

Because Denji didn't do it.

It's Denji perfectly fused with Pochita.

CHAINSAW MAN.

A double being, symbolically realising the ambivalence of life.

Denji was Pochita's happiness, hence her sacrifice.

Pochita was Denji's happiness, hence his unhappiness.

The constant association of happiness with unhappiness - after all, that's all Denji and Pochita's meeting is about.

Except that at that moment, Denji had come to the wrong conclusion, talking about sex, hence the feeling of unease, and a sense of rupture in his speech. The hope of supreme happiness makes us eat this crap burger, it's true. But it won't make us happy.

What Yoru shows, even though he's part of Asa, is that the concept of happiness and unhappiness make no sense to a devil ; they instrumentalizes them, doesn't understand them.

So she gets hit by Asa because, damn it, this concept of happiness and unhappiness belongs to men.

So Asa takes over and says she hasn't recovered from her mother's death because this event will always seem so unacceptable and horrible to her. Bad things don't disappear.

What changes is the memories we want to bring to the fore.

Snow.

Symbolising Denji's supreme misfortune of having killed his brother to the point of vomiting with guilt.

Symbolically, it is this same vomiting that spits out the snow.

The snow is not just a trauma.

Aki was obsessed by the memory of the tragedy of his family, who were also killed in snowy weather.

And when Aki decides to visit his family's graves, to pay his respects tragically at his family's graves

He can't do it

Because two idiots divert his attention.

Forcing Aki to look away from the unhappiness of the past

To face the happiness right in front of him.

What Aki realised just before his death was that he had never seen happiness, or rather he had chosen not to.

Because happiness isn't there to be found, it's there, it's just there to be looked at, plunged in a pile of shit but it's sometimes there, but we refuse to consider that this thing is happiness, we can hope for more, can't we?

You have to eat this crappy hamburger, even if it means throwing up.

This is the taste of happiness.

Back to the snow

Which you associate with Denji's sadness and Aki's death

Yet this snow fight is Aki's last happiness

Seeing that snow again, associated with that fateful day when he lost his family

Holding that snow in his hands, and playing with his little brother, a little brother he has found again

What if this scene wasn't something he had to endure, but a choice? Aki's choice not to see, the gun held to his eyes, the choice to lull himself into one last sweet illusion, one last bandage, one last cigarette, to escape from this reality that he had always stubbornly tried to face, to escape from it.

But Denji is crying at this point.

Happiness cannot be total happiness, it melts, like snow.

Unhappiness will always be diametrically opposed.

The fact remains that snow is this temporary oblivion, this misfortune that we take in our hands to make snowballs, this moment of fun condemned to melt, snow determines what we do with our misfortune and our happiness.

Snow represents what we decide to see.

It is the forgetting, or rather the silencing of painful memories.

To realize that the snow is cold is to realize the end of happiness, because you're not playing anymore.

I don't like playing snowball: I don't like pretending to be happy anyway.

These memories will not disappear, but we can choose not to see them too much

The snow will remain cold, it will be condemned to melt, it is this moment, what we do with this moment.

Because if it didn't melt, no life would develop

If happiness and unhappiness were not this constant ambivalence, this intermingling of happy and painful moments, if this ephemeral aspect did not exist

Then no life would exist.

When Denji vomits snow, it's because he realises once again the association between happiness and unhappiness that snow represents.

Disgusted by this sad reality too, of not seeing unchanging happiness, of seeing life not as a burger, but as a shit burger.

But the snow is beautiful and it won't stay.

Like these two.

[buttercandy16]

SEDUCED BY MY STEPMOTHER

(R E M A K E)

PAIRING: Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: After four years, the reader's father introduces his new fiance to the family - who turns out to be an alluring and mysterious seductress who is set to shake up the lives of the reader and their loved ones in ways they never could have imagined.

WARNING(s): None... yet!

A/N: This is one of my old stories that wattpad deleted. I decided to do some slight remake to it, character wise and all.

Should I continue this?

Y/N POV

I stood close to the balcony, staring at the beautiful view of the setting sun to clear my head. I  just recently found out that for the last few months my beloved father has been seeing someone in secret. On this warm evening, I’ll be meeting her for the first time at dinner. It was finally time that he did so I guess since he’s been widowed for almost 4 years already since my mother died from a car crash. But even with that certain thought I can’t help but feel uneasy about the changes that are about to happen. Hopefully, whoever she is, she’ll be a good one, for my father and also for me.

“Hurry up Y/N, or we’ll be late!” My deep thoughts were disturbed when I heard my father’s voice calling me from downstairs. I guess it’s finally time to leave.

Standing in front of the mirror I straightened my mid-white dress while checking my hair for the last time before grabbing my shoulder bag and went running downstairs.

“No running in the house young lady! How many times do I have to tell you that?” By the end of the stairs stood my father Frank, looking more dashing than usual while wearing his expensive black suit and tie.

“Sorry dad, just didn’t want you to call out for me again” I responded while giving a sheepish smile.

He gave me a playful eye roll as he grabbed my hands and gave each of my knuckles a chaste kiss.

“I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me, sweetheart. I know this is not easy for you” he said while still holding both of my small hands in his large ones.

“Anything for you dad, as long as she makes you happy,” I said while I gave him a reassuring smile.

“She does, she really does. Now let’s not keep her waiting, shall we?” Dad smiled as he led both of us to his car.

I really do hope so dad…

(A few moments later)

We finally arrived at the restaurant after a 30-minute drive. Dad left his car keys to the valet and went straight inside while I followed close behind.

A male waiter in his 20s led us to a secluded part of the restaurant where a single square table was set beside a huge glass window that oversees the beautiful night streets. I was so caught up with the dancing lights outside that I failed to notice the beautiful woman sitting at our table.

That is until I heard a velvet-like voice calling out my name.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Agatha Harkness. It’s nice to finally meet Frank’s special girl”

My eyes looked for the owner of the angelic voice and they immediately settled on a beautiful woman in a purple dress. I can’t help but admire the beauty in front of me from head to toe. She is breathtaking. Aside from her physical appearance, I can also smell her intoxicating scent from where I stand. I’m in awe, I’ve never met someone as attractive as her before. I was about to look her over again but I was interrupted when I felt my father’s arm on my shoulder.

“Y/N, aren’t you gonna say something?” daddy asked.

“Umm…”

Due to being lost in my own thoughts, I became speechless as I looked up at my father’s questioning gaze before settling my vision on Agatha’s. Her eyes… oh her eyes… held something dark and mischievous that made me shiver to the core. I caught a small glimpse of the subtle smirk on her rosy lips before it disappeared.  That’s when I realized that she must’ve caught me while I was checking her out. Oh, fudge how embarrassing!!

I immediately shook out from my thoughts and shakily offered my right hand for her to take.

“Um... It’s nice to meet you too Miss Harkness” I gave her a shy smile which she reciprocated by giving me a radiant smile before correcting me. “Agatha, will do, sweetheart”.

She took my hand in her slender ones and gave it a soft squeeze. Her hand was so soft and it looked a little bigger compared to mine, she held my hand a little longer than she should have, which almost caused my heart to burst out from its ribcage before she decided to finally let go.

My father then ushered us to take a seat but before he got to do so, Agatha called out to him.

“Hon, did you forget something?” She asked with one eyebrow up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Silly me” my father went towards her and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was supposed to be a chaste one but before he can step away she grabbed the back of his neck to hold him in place and then deepened the kiss.

I was going to look away because the sudden intimacy made me uncomfortable but before I could, I found myself frozen on my chair and my breath coming in short and hot when I saw her giving my father a passionate kiss…while her eyes were devouring mine.

What. the. actual. hell?!

_-_-_-_

Thoughts?

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

How did Shockwave train his human to take his big spike? I just read your Brainstorm x Reader fic (hot as FUCK I loved it) and it got me thinking about how it must've been frustrating at first for Shockwave trying to have sex with his human at his full size. I imagine he mass displaces or changes his spike? I wanna frag shockwave so bad but I also don't know how long I'd survive as a human fleshlight 😭

Could you maybe write something for that? Like Shockwave and his human being sexually frustrated and him accidentally edging himself trying to be gentle with his human? Maybe thighfucking or just the tip. Get creative please! I love your work and the most recent Shockwave x reader got me thinking 🙏💗

I’m sitting here kicking my feet and twirling my hair. Ty for liking my writing!!! It means a lot <3

Anyway…..

Shockwave x Reader, gender neutral AFAB, racially ambiguous, wet dreams, dirty talk, just the tip, reader gets used as a toy, thigh fucking

“Hnn! Shockwave!” Your cute moans echoed throughout your shared habsuite. Such soft flesh dimpled under Shockwave’s servo as he gripped your body.

“You’re doing so well,” Shockwave could hardly contain the steam moving through his vents, his entire frame covered in coolant.

Your juices pooled around the base of his spike. He was so proud of you for finally being able to take him to the base. The head of his spike making a delicious bump in your abdomen as your body tries to mold itself around him. He hoped he could carve your walls into the shape of his spike.

He pulled you up off of his spike, your legs curled up to your hips as you presented your stretched hole to your lover. Shockwave’s servo gripped around your waist tighter in a possessive hold. You gasped feeling him pull himself out to the tip of his spike before lowering you back down to the base with a wet squelch.

“Perfect,” Shockwave whispered. “My perfect pet.”

Shockwave pulled you off him once again before plunging his spike deep in you. He twisted his hips to tease the inside of your cunt with how his spike twitched and moved within you.

RECHARGE CYCLE COMPLETE

Shockwave’s optic blinked online. His processor worked overtime replaying his dream; it was so life like. He could feel your sleeping form curled up next to his helm. The nest of pillows and blankets you had made supporting your sleeping body atop Shockwave’s shoulder plating. He moved his optic down to look at his chasis before gazing at you from the side of his vision.

He knew it was physically impossible for you to take his spike to the base unless he looked into modding his frame. He would consider it but he still wanted to see just how much your body could take. Humans were surprisingly durable and Shockwave wanted to test just how durable your body could be when assaulted with pleasure.

You were so cute, so innocent, sleeping up against your big metal lover. Shockwave could almost forget the countless nights he’d had you stretched out over his digits or stuffed with as many toys as he could fit in you. Seeing how peaceful you were, no one would be any the wiser to how Shockwave had had you screaming his name and squirting by his doing. Shockwave pictures your sleeping face covered in his transfluids. He’d work his spike over you until you woke up to a pink surprise dripping all over you. He knows you’d be a good pet and clean him up. Your soft tongue licking at his spike trying to gobble up as much of his overload as you could.

What have you done to him? The Decepticons’ most feared scientist reduced to a simple pleasure bot for you.

Shockwave absentmindedly rubbed his helm against your sleeping body. What was just a small movement to him was enough of a nudging to wake you up. You groaned while grabbing onto Shockwave’s helm.

“Good morning,” Shockwave greeted raising a servo to stroke at your hair. “Did you have a restful recharge?”

You moved your hands to grab at Shockwave’s servo giving his hand a hug as you peppered kisses along his digit. “Mhm,” you said while rubbing your face against his servo. “Did you?”

Shockwave thought back to his dream. How wonderful it would be to have you spread wide on his spike. So tight he could barely move outside of shallow thrusts.

“I did indeed,” Shockwave replied.

“Have any dreams?” There was a knowing tone to your voice that made Shockwave’s finials twitch.

“I did dream,” Shockwave said curtly.

“Good dreams?”

“Yes.”

You climbed out of your blanket and pillow nest so you could stand on Shockwave’s chasis with your hands on either side of his optic. “Do you want to share with the class?” You teased.

“I believe ‘the class’ already has an idea as to what my dream entailed,” Shockwave ran his servo up your back.

“All I know is that you were venting pretty hard and praising me,” you ran one of your hands along the ridge of Shockwave’s optic.

“My apologies if I disturbed your recharge cycle,” Shockwave let his servo wander to your lower back where his entire hand encompassed your rear and upper thighs as well.

“It was hard not to wake you up,” you murmured with your lips brushing along the ridge of his optic. “I couldn’t help but touch myself hearing you so worked up.”

Shockwave let one of his digits slip between your legs and press up against your heat. “I’m offended you didn’t wake me to join you,” Shockwave teased pressing his finger up against your clothed arousal. You moaned grinding down on his digit. “You work so hard,” you purred pressing kisses along his optic screen. “I wanted you to get a full recharge.”

You slipped your hand down to grab Shockwave’s digit as you humped it. “My big strong scientist always working so hard.”

Shockwave’s engine rumbled at your praise. “Do you wish to know what my dream entailed?” Shockwave relaxed his servo letting you set the pace for how you humped his finger. “Please, Shockwave,” you moaned out.

“I had your human valve spread wide enough to take my spike to my pelvis,” Shockwave explained. “I used you like a spike sleeve.”

Your whole body shivered at the idea. “Mmm, I’d like that,” you murmured feeling a wet stain starting to form inside your underwear. “I want to be stretched out over your cock.”

Shockwave released his modesty plate letting his erect spike spring into the air. “I’m sure you would,” Shockwave said while moving his servo to tug at your pajama pants. “But I’d prefer to not have you injured.”

You whined frantically tugging at your pajama bottoms and underwear only to discard them somewhere to your right. Shockwave couldn’t help his amusement at how needy you had become. Your pubic hair glistening with your slick arousal.

“Your frustration is mutual,” Shockwave held onto your body as he sat up. Your nest falling apart and falling to the berth below.

You looked over your shoulder trying not to drool at how Shockwave’s spike bounced with his movement. “I need you inside me,” you whined as your hand dipped between your folds. Your clit was stiff in arousal as you rubbed it.

“Don’t begin to think that I’m not as desperate to penetrate you,” Shockwave’s chasis rumbled as he spoke. “Your body is very tempting.”

You whined as you leaned back against Shockwave’s servo with your legs spread so he could see how your fingers moved through your slick cunt.

The musk of your pussy hit his olfactory sensors causing a flush of steam to release from his vents. “I would like to propose an idea that may be mutually beneficial.”

“This is exactly where you belong,” Shockwave’s voice sounded desperate as he pulled you along his spike. Your pussy flush against the metal as your legs dangled uselessly. He had his servo wrapped around your torso with your arms pinned to your sides. While you had already cum, your pussy twitching sensitively as Shockwave took what he wanted from you, Shockwave hadn’t.

Your hole fluttered emptily still not satisfied without Shockwave inside of you. “Please!” You begged throwing your head back. You stared up at the underside of Shockwave’s chasis with your eyes half lidded. “Please I can take it! Just fuck me!”

Shockwave growled at your pleading fighting an internal fight with his own desperation and logic. He wanted so desperately to shove his spike as deep as it could go inside of you. He wants to see just how much you can take before you break. Yet every time his logic wins.

Shockwave continues grinding your cunt along his spike leaving a slick trail of your arousal along the metal shaft. His biolights pulsed in agitation so desperate to cum yet not having enough stimulation. “We can attempt penetration today,” Shockwave concluded. He had been training your hole fairly well or so says the display of increasingly large dildos on his shelf he had made for you.

You almost cried out in relief as Shockwave pulled your slick core from his shaft. A string of wet arousal broke as he lifted you away from his spike.

Using his canon arm, he held you against his abdomen as his servo dipped between your legs. Shockwave dipped in two of his digits making you moan out his name. You beautifully took both of his fingers into your greedy hole with a squelch. Shockwave’s spike twitched at the noise. You ran your hands along his canon gripping onto whatever points you could find as he stretched your hole and fucked his fingers into you.

“I would like to set expectations,” Shockwave said while adding another digit into you. “You will not be able to take me to my base. However I will consider any form of penetration a win on our part.”

Shockwave spread his digits making you hiss in both pain and pleasure. Your poor hole was stretched to its limit and yet seemed to still beg for more. He pulled his digits out of your hole slowly so you could feel every inch of his metal fingers. They exited your wet pussy with a slorping noise making you wince in embarrassment and Shockwave’s engine rumble in pleasure.

“You are exceptionally wet,” Shockwave showed you how your slick clung to his fingers like clear slime. “I believe this is as exciting for you as it is for me.” You grabbed Shockwave’s servo guiding his metal hand to your mouth so you could lick your arousal off his fingers. “Good, pet,” Shockwave tilted his optic so he could better see you over his chasis. Pride thrummed within his spark seeing you so well trained as to clean his servo without him asking. Your soft lips sucking along his digits as your tongue peeked out to lick up and around his fingers cleaning your slick off of him.

“Are you ready?” Shockwave dragged the back of his knuckle over your cheek tenderly. You could hardly contain yourself as you spread your legs as wide as they could go. “Please, Shockwave!” You begged holding your folds open with your fingers. “I just want you inside me!”

Shockwave groaned leaking transfluid down his painfully erect spike. He grabbed around your waist teasingly dragging your cunt along his shaft once more before turning you around in his servo so you were facing him. The tip of his spike pulsed against your cunt smearing pink transfluid around your folds. You eagerly reached down to rub at his spike in worship earning a thrust against your pussy.

“If we are unable to initiate penetration, do not feel you are inadequate my pet,” Shockwave assured you. You nodded holding your pussy open in excitement. The tip of his spike kissed at your pulsing hole. He pushed forward gently trying to stuff you full but only ended up gliding his cock through your sopping vulva. “Shockwave,” you whined arching your hips at a better angle. “Behave,” Shockwave tided as he attempted to push into you once more. The very end of his spike hooked onto your hole making you moan out in absolute bliss.

Shockwave’s optic remained trained on the barely an inch of his spike he managed to push into you. He pressed further watching how your face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your hole struggled around his girth spasming as your own juices bubbled around his cock.

“Well done,” Shockwave could hardly contain his own moan at the sight. Half of his tip was inside of your tight little hole. Your breathing was frantic as you squirmed in his hold. Your temperature was scorching causing your body to dampen with sweat. “It’s so good!” You moaned out humping the head of his spike. Shockwave’s vents fluttered in bliss as his optic glitched.

“Are you capable of taking more?” Shockwave’s venting was becoming heavy. You were finally here, stretched wide enough to take his spike without any mass displacement or mods. “Please! Please!” You begged your words stringing together in an alphabet soup of praise. “Do not push yourself past your limits,” Shockwave warned before pushing the rest of his cock’s head inside of you.

You felt something inside of you snap as you came from the sensation of being so stretched out alone. Shockwave groaned feeling your walls tighten around him like you were trying to push his massive cock out. He kept your body steady holding his tip firmly in place inside of you. “You are doing wonderfully, pet,” Shockwave moaned giving you an experimental thrust.

You screamed out his name feeling your limbs turn to gelatin from the stimulation. He gave another gentle buck of his hips wanting to hear more of your blissed out noises. Tears strewed down your face as you stared up at Shockwave in disbelief. You had never felt this full your entire life. You were sure he was going to break you and by god did that sound delightful. You hoped Shockwave broke you mind and body only for you to become a sloppy wet toy for him to fuck.

“You take spike exceedingly well,” Shockwave purred pulling you off of the tip of his cock before lowering you once again. You moaned stupidly your brain only able to process the feeling of having your hole so thoroughly stretched beyond its limits. “I am excited to share this information with Soundwave as well.” You became increasingly wetter at the mention of the other bot Shockwave enjoyed sharing you with. “He has requested updates on your training,” Shockwave said satisfied with your fucked out form. “I believe he would enjoy a turn once I am finished.”

You could only nod and drool as Shockwave used your hole as his own personal spike sleeve. Your juices leaking down his spike with a mixture of his transfluids. He could feel his valve clenching in delight at finally feeling that pit within his abdomen that told him he was close. “What is that phrase you use in your human pornography?” Shockwave groaned. “Cumdump?” He pushed forward forcing you to take more of his spike as he released deep within your core. You cried as a spray of squirt erupted from your pussy then dribbled into a pathetic stream. Shockwave kept the head of his spike buried inside of you as he released his overload into your welcoming body. Pink transfluid leaked around his spike dripping out of your fucked out hole and onto his lap.

You sobbed feeling his warm transfluid so deep within you. You rubbed over your abdomen where you felt your womb was. “Beautiful,” Shockwave praised slowly pulling his spike out of you. “You performed far past my expectations.” You shoved your fingers into your stretched hole trying to plug up your cunt to keep any transfluid from leaking out of you. “I see you know your place,” Shockwave lifted you up to his optic as he watched you finger fuck his overload back inside of yourself sloppily. “I will prepare you a bath and a heating pad for your groin. You did very well today, my pet.”

[bunnys-kisses]

the dnf club (vol. 5)

nico hulkenberg

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, secret relationship, mechanic!reader, rough sex, dom/sub dynamic, oral sex (nico receives)

a/n: this is my first time writing nico! i'm a little nervous, but i hope ya'll love it!

carlos edition // franco edition // alex edition // lance edition

you could feel nico's hungry gaze when he stepped into the paddock. this man stood at six feet tall, it could be a little intimidating. you knew the best course of action would've been to make a hasty escape and out of his field of vision.

but something quivered in you when he gave you another glance before his attention was pulled elsewhere. it lingered on you, in a way that made you stomach twist. while the dnf was not your fault, nico had every intention to pin it on you and you alone. that you'd need to correct your misdoing.

"how is my, prinzessin?" he said when he finally got you alone. a strong arm wrapped around your middle, "you promised me something before the race, didn't you? that you'd make me a winner." he leaned in further towards you, his weight pressed you into yourself, "guess that didn't happen."

you looked up at nico as he sat on the edge of the expensive hotel bed. his hand in your hair and down the side of your face. you squirmed. he was fully clothed, the haas logo across his chest. you on the other hand were stripped of your clothes. the kit you wore when you were out of your mechanics clothes.

while the haas logo wasn't across your pretty chest, nico's dark hickies littered the skin instead. when he got your naked, he left enough bruises to remind you exactly who you worked for. you were hired to make him win and he guessed he just had to get you into peak shape.

"i'm sorry you didn't win, sir." and to do that, meant a familiar game of dominant and submissive, "i'll do better next time." you shifted on your knees a little before he took you by the face. you looked up at him. there was something strong and domineering about him. it was almost scary. it made something comb through you as he roughly patted your cheek.

"see, this is what i like to hear. you behaving." the power dynamic was undeniable. he had power over you and you knew that you fell right into it.

he got his cock out of his jeans and you dutifully went in and touched it with your lips. soon your mouth was fully on it with his hand in your hair. most would feel a sense of defeat when faced with a dnf. but not nico. nico was more than happy to get the frustration out on you, his cock ruin you for an evening.

you were a good girl and took his entire length as best as you could. you didn't like silly things like you gag reflex get in the way of pleasuring him. making him feel good. he tugged at your hair and curled over you to admire how you choked down on his cock. that was why you two made such a good team, you were nico's little stress toy. anytime he felt the pressure of racing, he had a soft cunt to bully his cock into. he knew he wasn't just having your throat tonight. you taking his cock in your mouth was just a taster for what he truly wanted. to be balls deep inside of you.

"you're perfect." he said, "you have no idea. i know you gave me a little failure, but, i can look over it. i know you were just so stressed that you had a little mishap. but that's okay. i forgive you." he pinched your cheek and you looked up at him. you moaned a little bit as you continued to pleasure him.

you made a small noise and nico pressed your further head further against his cock. your nose in his pubic hair before you continued your heavy thrusts of his cock. you felt the shudder of want through you. you planted your hands on his thighs so you wouldn't be tempted to touch yourself. you felt the thrill of sexual pleasure through you as you continued to move your head up and down on his cock.

"trained you just as i like." he chuckled as he felt the surge of pleasure in his body. it wasn't every day he got oral from such a pretty girl. you always did him so proud, always apologetic when he didn't win. it was cute. but he still wanted more.

"come here, prinzessin." he pulled you away from his cock and up onto his lap. his cock fit into you easily and he thoroughly just rutted against you. the roughness of his jeans rubbed against your naked body, you felt over sensitive as you started to ride him.

your voice caught in your throat as you moved against him.

he admired you on top of him. his hands on your bare ass. he grabbed at you as he met your pace. wasn't the easiest to have sex fully clothed, but it was too late for that now. right now nico was driven by the need to fuck your sweet little cunt. to make you squirm and moan until he finished. get all that aggression out. his little mechanic was also good at making him feel good. where he couldn't get trophies, he could bully your sweet cunt until you were a cute little moaning mess. it was all his, you were all his.

he kissed at your neck, leaving more hickies in his wake. his grip on you tightened as he moved you up and down on his cock. your core yearned for him. you felt the flush of pleasure through your body as he quickly fucked you. no one else could ever fuck you like him.

it didn't help that his cock was heavy and thick, that it stretched you in ways that made you see stars. you loved his rough actions, you loved when it hurt. and most of all you adored when you felt streaks of hot pleasure through to your core.

you look good like this." he said as he bounced you on his cock. he could tell that you were losing momentum. that the pleasure was becoming too much. he pulled you in by your shoulders for a heated kiss as he continued to fuck you.

"my little mechanic." he said when he pulled away and slapped you on the ass. your back arched and you clung to his shoulders tighter. he watched you reach your climax and your noises getting painfully loud.

you tensed up around him and arched your back. you felt the leap in your chest as orgasm wracked through you. he pulled you in for another searing kiss and you worked your self through your climax. you were a determined little thing.

he continued to thrust up into you, fuck the anger out of you. you made sweet noises as reached his own climax. he came inside of you, made sure every drop was inside of you. keep a little reminder of him in you when you worked on his car. that you'd know for next time.

after both of your climaxes. you ended up face first on the bed with your ass slightly up. your heard the shuffle of clothes and eventually you were pressed further into the bed by nico's large body. his cock sticky and hard once more. he rubbed against your back and there was not getting out from under him.

"oh, prinzessin. we're not done. we have a whole night of you correcting your wrongs." <3

[tkwrites]

Can I make it up to you? - Nico Hischier x ofc

gif by kawhh

Title: Can I make it up to you? 

Part V in the It Doesn’t Matter AU

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Nico Hischier x Lena (ofc)

Summary: When Lena is hit on at a Devils event and Nico responds by staking his claim rather than checking in to make sure she's okay, she’s understandably pissed. Though their ensuing fight is resolved, Nico still wants to make it up to her. 

Warnings: Sexism and unwelcome advances followed by angst and then a lot of makeup sex. Smut (18+ only!): Fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), face sitting, squirting, unprotected p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), spanking, and a bit of exhibitionism if you squint.

Word count: 8,000

Comments: Well, Nico and Lena are back. This piece is out of order (shocking for me, I know), but the missing piece will be written to fill in their story. 

I had this idea of them having makeup sex that I just couldn’t shake. Which, of course, meant they had to get into a fight first. I’m sorry for the angst and all the sexism, but it gets better, I promise. 

It's been so fun writing Nico into the feminist, romance hero of my dreams. I hope he might be yours, too. 

If you did enjoy it, please consider letting me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Can I make it up to you? 

Part V in the It Doesn’t Matter AU

Lena walked out of the bedroom, and Nico felt his eyes widen. He just stood there, slack jawed and blinking like a fish. 

He couldn’t get over the fact that Lena was his date. His date. He got to take her out and have other people know she was with him. The feeling exploded in his stomach.

When she smiled and twirled, his tongue nearly fell out of his mouth. 

The back of her dress was daringly open, held together by two thin ropes that criss crossed over her shoulder blades. A cowl of the smooth, dark fabric pooled at the small of her back. She wasn’t wearing a bra — at least not that he could see. 

Her hair was down, just brushing her shoulders in soft, beachy waves. She’d refreshed the color the night before, so it was beautifully pastel pink, bringing out the green in her eyes and setting off the color of her skin. Her makeup was just enough to make her look bright and doe eyed.

He was going to have to look at her all night and still be expected to talk to people like a sane person? Fuck. Fuck fuck, fuck.

He finally managed to croak her name, and she giggled. 

“You like it?” 

Like it? He wanted to stay home and worship her in this dress. His mind filled with visions of tracing his lips from the drape of fabric all the way up her spine. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, minding not to tell her she looked beautiful. She did, but Nina’s lectures about how to compliment women rang in his head. 

“Thank you.” 

Lena knew he would like this dress. She saw the way his eyes lingered when women on TV wore backless dresses like this. 

Even still — even knowing — an enormous blast of pride ignited inside her when he was reduced to staring at her open mouthed. She’d chosen right. 

She’d never worn anything like it before. Thankfully, Nicole had helped her pick it out and get the right bra to wear with it. The smooth, delicate fabric felt like a breath of fresh air on her skin.

Walking into the party, Nico couldn’t help feeling smug. When people turned to look at him this time, he was finally in a couple. Not only that, he was in a couple with the person he’d dreamed about coupling with since he was seventeen. He wanted everyone to know she’d chosen him. 

While he went about his schmoozing duties, Lena hung around with the other partners, talking and gossiping and sharing notes on each others outfits before their conversation finally gave way to real life. How people's kids were doing. How hard motherhood was when your partner was only there some of the time. What a weird thing it was to find yourself dating the boy you always dreamed you would. It was a bigger adjustment than she would have thought. 

When she stepped away to order a drink, staying close to the bar to watch it being made, someone stepped up close to her. She figured it was Nico. He was the only one that stood this close. The illusion shattered as masculine voice asked, “so what’s your name?” in a strong Jersey accent. 

Glancing over at him, she took stock. He was wearing a green suit that, on top of clashing against the olive undertones in his skin, was half a size too big for him. He needed a better tailor. And a better hair stylist. The garishly dark combover he was rocking was doing him no favors.

“Alaina,” she said. It wasn’t her name, but it had almost been. Her mother’s mother’s mother was named Alaina, but everyone in her life called her Lena. When it was time for her parents to name their first daughter, they decided to shorten it from the get go. She was named after great-grandma Lena after all. No need to make it complicated. 

“That’s a beautiful name.” He reached forward slightly to brush the backs of his fingers up her arm. 

She stiffened against his touch.

“I’m Reggie,” he said, confirming her suspicion that he might just be her fathers age. Lena felt her skin crawl. Why was a man his age even talking to a girl in her twenties, let alone flirting with her? 

“It’s nice to meet you, Reggie,” she said, giving him a tight smile, “but I really should be getting back…” her words trailed off when she looked over her shoulder to find the other partners had moved on to a different part of the party. 

Damn. There went her easy out. 

“You know,” Reggie said, continuing as if he hadn’t noticed her looking for someone. “My company owns a box for the season if you’d like to catch a game.” 

“I can get tickets.”

“In a box? I doubt it.”

Pursing her lips, Lena took a step back only to have him step forward to keep her from putting too much distance between them. Where was Nico when she needed him? Where was anyone? It was looking more and more like Reggie was the kind of guy who she’d either have to punch or run away from. Possibly both. She hoped she wouldn't have to resort to shouting. 

He smiled as he seemed to realize no one was coming to her aid. 

Lena gulped, feeling her heart begin to flutter in her throat. She pushed her drink aside just in case, grateful that, at least, they were in public.

Nico’s eyes found Lena again. That big guy was still looming over her at the bar. Through the open back of her dress, he could see how tightly her posture muscles were wound. 

Excusing himself from his conversation, he made his way to her. She shouldn’t have to put up with this shit, and this dude needed to know she wasn’t here alone. 

Spotting his forest green suit, Lena relaxed slightly, realizing Nico was walking toward them. She was going to be free of this douche at last. 

Instead of turning his attention on her, though, Nico addressed Reggie as he walked up to them. “Hey man,” he said, slipping his arm possessively around her, his hand cradling her hip.

Reggies eyes darted between them, wide with recognition. The shock wore off quickly though, replaced by a kind of conspiratorial grin, “I should have known a girl like this was with one of you,” he said. “Though I didn't think they took kindly to you dating such rebels.”

Nicos eyebrows raised. Lena wasn't what he would call rebellious. 

Instead of telling Reggie pink hair and a nose ring didn't make a rebel, or saying something about how he and Lena had known each other for years, or anything else, really, Nico took her completely by surprise when he said, “yeah, she’s not single.”

Her posture stiffened. She never saw this kind of cock slinging from Nico. He was usually so much kinder than that, not so concerned with being the bigger man. 

With the Captain standing right in front of him, Reggie immediately launched into a discussion about how the team was doing. 

Nico stood there and kept the conversation going, his hand still at her hip, forearm warm against her bare back. Were they in any other circumstance, she would have relished the feeling of his luxurious suit against her skin.

“Your scoring has really dropped off since the start of the season. Is something wrong you're not telling us?”

He said it with concern in his voice, but Lena knew it was a sentence crafted for maximum impact. She saw the shadow of guilt pass through Nico's eyes before he launched into a media-trained, rehearsed response about how he was trying his best, but sometimes, pucks just didn’t go in the net. 

“You’ve got some —”

Nico cut her off. Even if it meant he was being insulted, he preferred it to this asshole leering at her again. He was trying to keep this creep's eyes off her.

She let out an affronted little snort, and he tried not to smile, touched that she was still willing to go to bat for him. 

It was a solid five minutes of clipped, polite conversation before the guy finally got the hint and left. 

 Nico turned to her only to find her glaring. The triumphant smile slipped from his face. 

“Let’s go get some air,” she said, turning on her heel and walking toward the balcony, breaking his grip in the process. Her tone was icy, and Nico braced for impact as he followed her, his bottle of beer clutched in his hand. 

“What the fuck, Nico?” Lena asked quietly as soon as they were tucked into a dark alcove of the balcony, out of earshot from the other guests. 

“Wha—” 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“I came to rescue you.”

“To rescue me?” she repeated, voice incredulous. “You didn’t even acknowledge me! You hardly even looked at me! I’ve never felt like such a possession.”

“I know men like that,” he tried to explain, “I was trying to get his attention off of you,”

“And in the process, you made me feel like some kind of dumb trophy.”

“A trophy?” he repeated. 

“Yes! An ornament there to do nothing but make you look better,” she said. Her words and tone had maximum impact, smacking into him as if she’d hit him with her open palm. 

Shit. He had done that. His first instinct had been to check on her, but he’d pushed it aside, wanting to let that guy know she wasn’t here alone. He knew he shouldn't have second guessed his gut reaction. 

Goosebumps were rising on her arms in the cold night air. He slipped his jacket off and held it out to her. 

His offering was met with a fierce glare. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here, Nico.” 

“I know, and I want to, but I can tell you're freezing,” he held the suit coat out again, “please.”

She took it from him and threw it on the ground. “Will you listen to me, now?” 

Chastened, he nodded. “I’m sorry.”

God, why did he have to have those eyes? Those earnest, puppy dog, always wanting to do better, brown eyes. 

“Nico, I needed rescuing, and instead, you came over and started dick measuring with that guy. Who, by the way, I’m pretty sure was old enough to be my father, but still hit on me.”

His jaw hardened. “He was hitting on you?”

“Yes.” Her voice took on a sarcastic tone, “what did you think he was doing? Telling me about his kids?” 

“I don’t know…”

“For some reason, men of a certain age always think that having tattoos or piercings means you’re a slut.” 

Wincing, he asked, “what did he do?” 

“Well, he touched me for one.” 

His jaw went hard, and a protective kind of anger flashed in his eyes. 

“What?” Nico was going to kill him.

“Not like totally inappropriately,” she amended angrily. “He touched my arm, but it still made my skin crawl.”

What the fuck? Hadn’t there been enough media and enough talk for men to know they couldn't touch women without their permission? Even when someone asked for a picture, Nico never put his arm around them unless they did it first or they gave permission. 

“Then he told me I should come watch a game in his company owned box,” she scoffed. “He totally ignored me when I said I had access to tickets.”

Anger flared in his chest. Not only was this dude a creep, he hadn’t even listened to her. “How can I be better?” he asked. Not only in this instance, but to be a better man.

“I wish you had checked in with me before you started engaging or telling him I’m not single. I don't belong to you.” 

“I don't think you belong to me, Lena,” he said, hurt she would even think that.

“Really? The whole ‘yeah, she's not single’ thing,” she threw her voice into a distorted imitation of his own, accent and all, “coulda fooled me.” 

“I didn't…” fuck. He had said that. “I was just trying to get him to focus on me instead. I don’t think you belong to me. You’re my girlfriend, I know that’s different.” 

The really annoying thing was that Lena knew he was telling the truth. It wasn’t an empty pronouncement. He really was sorry. And everything she knew of him told her he would learn from this and try to get better. All the same, she wondered if he really got where she was coming from.

“Do you even understand why I'm upset?” she asked, arms dropping to her sides. 

He'd royally fucked up if she was asking that. “Yes!” He schooled his voice into a less frantic tone and continued, “I understand.” 

“What do you understand?” 

“That you felt disrespected when I went straight into trying to solve the problem instead of checking to see if you were okay first.” It was something he often talked about with Nina and his mother. Women rarely wanted a solution to a problem. Most of the time, they just wanted someone to listen. And instead of doing that, he’d just barreled straight into fixing it. He knew better. He was a fucking idiot. 

“Oh.” It was a more succinct explanation than she'd been expecting. 

“I won’t ever do that again, Lena. I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out for her. 

Thankfully, she came into his arms willingly, even tucking her cold nose under his jaw. He swallowed against the sensation and slid his hands over her back. 

“Lena, you're like ice,” he chastised, trying to cover as much of her as he could. 

Now that the adrenaline of anger was ebbing away, the cold seeped in — and it seeped in fast. She stepped closer to Nico to try to absorb some of his body heat. 

“Can we get you inside?” he asked, rubbing her back. His hands were cold too, so he was sure it wasn’t doing any good, but it was better than nothing.  

“Thank you for being willing to understand,” she said, ignoring his question. 

It was such strange phrasing that Nico pulled back to look into her face. “Of course I’m willing.”

“Not all men are,” she said, tugging him back so their chests were once again flush. 

The fact that she’d had to put up with assholes who didn’t even try to understand where she was coming from ate at him. She deserved better than that. He wanted to be better than that. 

 Holding her, out in the cold, he dared to look at the pieces of himself he didn’t like to. The ones that were jealous and overly eager to prove that Lena was with him. That guy hadn’t posed any competition, and he knew it. In his heart of hearts, he knew she would never do that to him. He had no reason to get defensive of their relationship and should have checked in with her first. She should have been his top priority, not how others saw him. 

“I’m sorry, Lena,” he said, his voice quiet against her ear. “I let my pride come before how you were feeling.” 

Damn him. This was why she could never stay mad at him. “Thank you.” 

Her lips brushed against his neck when she said it, and it caused a shiver of a different kind to ripple over his skin. 

“I love you,” he said. 

She pulled back to look into those big brown eyes. “I love you, too.”

“Can I take you back inside now?” he asked. “I really don’t want you to get frostbite.”

“It’s not cold enough to get frostbite,” she said even as she broke away and bent to pick up his jacket. 

He was momentarily mesmerized by her bare back in the winter moonlight and was still staring when she held his jacket out to him. 

“I’m sorry I threw it on the ground,” she said, attempting to knock some of the dust off. It had been a childish thing to do, and she wished she could take it back. He’d just been trying to care for her, and she’d been so hellbent on making her point, she’d thrown his very sweet gesture into the dirt. 

A half smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I deserved it.”

“It was sweet, and I’m sorry I threw it back in your face.” 

“It’s okay,” he assured, taking it from her and settling it on her shoulders. 

The silk lining was cold against her skin, and she shivered. 

“Let’s go inside,” he said, gently turning her around so he could lead her back to the party, his arm draped around her shoulders. 

Snuggling into his side, Lena took a deep breath, readying herself to face the crowd of people again. At least no one had heard them arguing. 

“Do you want to leave?” 

“You need to stay, don’t you?” 

“Well, yeah, but…” 

The warm air in the ballroom stung as it collided with the chill on her skin. “I’ll stay with you,” she said, shrugging his jacket off and handing it back to him. She didn’t want to go home alone. She’d just be sitting there waiting for him anyway. 

“Okay,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. 

“There you are!” Nicole exclaimed. “Were you two sneaking off? Naughty, naughty,” she teased, winking at Nico. “Though, I can’t really blame you with how good she looks in this dress.”

He gave her a bashful smile. 

“Come on, Lena. Kristen was just about to tell us the funniest story.” 

Allowing herself to be pulled into the party, Lena glanced back at Nico. She sent him a smile and a little wave. The last thing she saw before the crowd closed around them was his cheeky wink, as he mouthed, ‘I love you.’

An hour later, they were tucked into the back of an Uber on the way home. Lena was playing with Nico’s fingers as she recounted Kristen’s story about Eric trying and failing to make dinner while caring for their kids and dogs. 

He laughed, glad that after the night they’d had, she was still willing to share these silly stories with him. 

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, entwining his fingers with hers.

“Yeah,” she said, lifting her face so their eyes met. Her anger had faded almost completely. “Of course we’re okay.”

A sigh let go in his chest. 

“Nico,” she raised a hand to cradle his jaw, “I know you weren’t trying to hurt me or anything. I know you better than that. It just kind of struck a nerve, and I lost my temper.”

Shooting her a rueful smile, he corrected, “you had every right to be upset with me. I was an ass.” 

She laughed, “you kind of were.” 

Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her temple and let his voice drop low, “can I make it up to you?” 

“Make it up to me?” she repeated, eyes darting to his. Was he implying what she thought he was? 

His brown eyes smoldered as he nodded.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want,” he murmured, dipping his lips to her neck.  

Tipping her head to give him more access, she found her voice suddenly much breathier than it had been. “I think we can arrange for that.”

He pulled away only when the car pulled up to their building. 

The smug little smile on her face as they rode the elevator nearly made him start to pant. He knew what that smile meant. 

Pausing as they passed through the kitchen, Nico asked, “do you mind if I grab something to eat before?” The food at those parties was never quite enough.

She shook her head. “I’ll meet you in your room.”

Although she hadn’t slept in her own bed in weeks, she hadn’t really moved anything into his room, so it didn’t quite feel like theirs. 

A few minutes later, perched on the end of the bed, she watched him come in, admiring the way he moved in his beautiful, dark green suit. The vest hugged his torso in a way that made him look deliciously thick. That had certainly changed since they were seventeen. 

Nico stopped in front of her, swallowing the last bite of apple.

“What do you want?” he asked. God, his accent was already thick, and he hadn't even touched her. 

She leaned back and swept her hair from her face before bracing with that arm, too. “I want to watch you undress.”

Nodding, he swallowed hard. “Do you want it a certain way?”

Shaking her head, she said, “just go slow.”

He started with his tie. The slip of the silk under his shirt collar was a hypnotic whisper. 

Watching her watch him made him breathless with anticipation. It was an incredible turn on, knowing she didn’t want him to be anything but who he already was. He knew she didn’t want a performance.

“Can I hang this up?” he asked, holding up the suit coat. 

 She nodded.

He walked into the closet and came back with a hanger. He removed his vest and hung it up before covering it with the coat. 

“Your hands are so sexy,” she breathed, watching him work the buttons of his shirt, top to bottom. 

His dimple winked at her. 

Glancing up, he asked, “do you want me to get you off with them?”

“Uh hu,” she breathed. She was still reclined on the bed, but her legs were now crossed, attempting to get some friction between her thighs. Just the thought of it, of his casual offer to bring her pleasure, had desire singing through her veins, ending hot and heavy between her legs.

He worked on the buttons of his cuffs, watching her. Her face was flushed, eyes blown dark with lust. Finally, he shouldered off the button down and tossed it behind him to be added to the hamper later. 

“Undershirt first,” she said when he reached for the button of his pants. 

Not bothering to hide her need, she drank in the movement of his arms and chest as he worked the shirt over his head. She squeezed her legs a little tighter together. 

He paused for a moment then, letting her drink in the sight of him shirtless in those incredibly well tailored trousers. 

“Turn around,” she said. 

“Why?” 

“Because I want to admire your ass in those pants.”

He blushed but did as she requested, adding in a little shake.

She laughed, then let out a groan as he stilled and flexed slightly, showing off his toned back.

When he looked over his shoulder, she’d collapsed back on the bed. 

“I can’t wait.”

“Wait for what?” he asked, turning back around. 

“I can’t wait for you to touch me.” 

He took a step forward. When she didn’t stop him, he took another and another until he was standing right in front of her. Reaching down, he slid one of his hands up her smooth calf. The soft fabric of her dress bunched around his wrist as his hand slid onto her thigh. 

Lena moaned, and it shot straight to his groin. He loved that sound more than any other in the world. “This is good?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

He tried to push the skirt up over her hips, but her hand caught his forearm, halting the movement. “Need it now,” she said, guiding his hand between her legs. 

The smile he gave her was wicked. Moving her underwear out of the way, he dipped his fingers into her sweet, wet heat. “You’re dripping.”  

Her back arched, trying to get her clit closer to his hand. “Yeah. I’ve had to look at you in that fucking suit all night.” 

It was always a pleasant surprise when she said things like this. When it became evident that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. “I’ve been half hard looking at you in this dress all night,” he admitted, finally adjusting so the heel of his hand pressed into her. 

She made a keening noise and ground against him. “Bought it just for you.” 

As her admission pulled even more blood from his brain, his entire body froze.

“Nico!” she complained. 

He snapped back to himself and started moving again, curling his fingers inside her and following the wave of her hips. 

“Oh,” she moaned, head thrown back. “Just like that.” 

He hadn’t been able to touch her like this for very long, but in the short amount of time he had, he’d been an attentive student. He seemed to remember everything she told him about what she liked. 

“Nico.” The way she said his name while they were making love was a symphony in his ears. What had he ever done in his life to deserve to be in this moment? Especially after fucking up so terribly that evening.

“What do you need?” he asked, pressing a little harder. 

Breath rushed from her mouth, “kiss me.” 

Fingers still buried inside her, he covered her body with his and captured her mouth. He swallowed every noise she made until she broke away, panting. 

“Right there,” she moaned, hips rolling. Something about the way he was touching her, fingers crooked just so, had fire licking through her veins. “Keep your fingers right there.” 

Working the spongey spot inside her, he breathlessly awaited her climax. 

“I —” The words she was going to say fell right out of her brain. They came crashing back with sudden force as Nico continued his magic. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yes. I love it when you come for me.”

Pleasure, more intense than she’d ever felt before, broke open inside her and, clutching the comforter, Lena cried out.

Nico watched her face, fascinated, as he felt her release slick his fingers .

“Fuck,” he groaned, “you’re so sexy.”

The pleasure kept coming until sensitivity turned his touch into a branding iron. Squirming away, she croaked, “too much. Too much.”

Slipping his hand from her and out from under her dress, Nico watched her chest rise and fall in sharp little gasps as he brought it to his mouth. 

“Oh my god,” she said, eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

She could practically feel Nico’s wide smile. 

“I’ve never felt anything like that.” 

“Really?” 

“What did you do?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You were doing that,” she held up her hand, crooking her fingers as if beckoning him to her. 

“Someone told me it was the best way,” he said, a blush darkening his cheeks. 

“Someone?” 

“Courtney,” he admitted. 

Courtney had been a girl he’d hooked up with on and off whenever he was in New Jersey. One of them would snap the other, and they’d meet up, usually every few weeks. When Lena had moved in, he’d stopped responding to her, and she’d eventually stopped asking. 

Lena only met her once but instantly disliked her, later telling him, “I don’t know, she’s just so obsessed with herself. She hardly even acknowledged I was there.”

It had been awkward to watch the two of them interact. Courtney, who Nico knew liked him more than he liked her, and Lena, who at the time, he thought didn’t like him the way he liked her. It had put them in an awkward triangle of disproportionate feelings. When Courtney had left to go home, she told him, “you’re so full of shit, Nico. When you two figure out what the hell is going on between you, let me know.” 

He’d been affronted at the time, hurt she would insinuate he and Lena had anything together. Now, looking back, he could understand how uncomfortable it must have been for her to be stuck between two people so in love with each other. She must have felt like he was playing games with her. She’d still spent the night in his bed when he asked her to come over three weeks later, though. 

“Hu,” Lena said, holding herself back from continuing, at least she was good for one thing. 

“Have you never…” he trailed off. 

“Never what?” 

His blush was back, “Have you never…I mean, wasn’t that your…” he had to pause, trying to remember the word, “your g-spot?” 

A series of puzzle pieces clicked into place all at once. “I wasn’t sure I had one,” she admitted, turning her head to look into his face. “I’ve never been able to find it.”

Half of his mouth curved in an amused smile. “None of your boyfriends tried?” he asked, tracing the edge of her dress, where it curved around her shoulder. He’d daydreamed of making Lena come like that for years — ever since Courtney taught him what the g-spot was and how to find it. 

“No,” she snorted. “Milo gave decent head, but none of them were as invested as you are.” 

His vision flared red for a moment before fading back to normal. Most of him was smug that he’d been the first one to find hers, but a part of him was angry she’d wasted so much time on losers who didn’t deserve her. 

Lena sighed. No wonder she’d never felt anything like that. She never had. 

“What do you want?” Nico asked, his hand slipping down her side, sliding over the slippery fabric with ease. 

“Hm?” 

“What do you want?” he repeated, “I’m making it up to you, remember?”

“I want to sit on your face,” she said, not missing a beat. 

Nico grinned. He loved getting her off with his mouth, but the prospect of getting her off with his mouth while she was above him and he could see her beautiful face? What a dream. 

“You’ll have to help me get this dress off,” she said, standing from the bed. “It’s taped.”

“Taped?” he repeated, sitting up. 

She turned her back to him, and before she could explain what she meant, he made good on his earlier promise to himself, trailing his lips from the cowl pooled at her low back up to the little ropes holding the dress on.

Lena hummed, a shiver running through her body. If he was going to have this reaction all the time, she was never covering her back again.  

“What did you need?” he asked, lips whispering over the top of her spine, just under her short hair. 

“Nicole helped me tape it,” she said, running a hand under one of the sides until it caught, “so it wouldn’t fall off, or accidentally expose something.”

His fingers followed hers, easing the tape from her skin before repeating on the other side.  

She turned around, grasping the fabric at her hips so she could lift the dress over her head. 

Nico drank in each movement, his dick twitching when the black lace of her underwear was exposed. 

She thought about hanging it up, but there was a wet spot from her orgasm that would need to be cleaned off before she could wear it again. Instead, she tossed it aside, so it draped artfully across the floor. 

He made a low noise in his throat. 

She stood before him in black pumps, a tiny pair of black lace underwear and a bra that was some kind of free-standing contraption. No straps and no band. As she went about removing it, he realized it was stuck to her skin. It must not have been that uncomfortable, though. The red marks had already mostly faded when she discarded it with the dress. 

After easing her thong off, Lena held it out to him, hooked on one finger. She’d bought it, wanting to see it tucked into his pocket by the end of the night. While she’d been getting dressed, she’d wondered if it might end up there before they left the gala, but that hadn’t worked out. Good thing, too. Everyone would have known. That dress really didn’t hide anything.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, taking the underwear from her and tucking it into his pants pocket. 

Preening, she motioned for him to lay back. 

He did, scooting up to the pillows to get in a comfortable position. 

Lena waited for him to get settled before straddling him. 

Watching her crawl up his body, knowing where she was going to end up, was perhaps the hottest thing he’d ever experienced in his life.

“After this,” she said, hovering over him, just close enough that the only thing he could smell was her sweet, humid heat, “I want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me.”

“Okay.”

Like he could say no to anything she wanted while they were in this position. 

She made a satisfied humming noise and lowered to his mouth. 

He groaned, hands coming up to grasp her hips, fingers digging into the flesh to keep her on top of him. He wanted to keep her here as long as possible.

He played with her clit, then licked through her, savoring the juices that gathered on his tongue. He hummed just to see her squirm and her nipples tighten. 

When he tried to pull away, and she followed him with a whine, he couldn't help but laugh. 

“Touch yourself for me,” he urged before latching his mouth back onto her. 

Clutching the headboard with one hand for balance, she toyed with her nipple with the other. 

The sight of it made his dick jump in his pants. “Das ist es,” he murmured, purposefully not bothering to translate. She always seemed to like it when he used his native language in bed, especially if it was praise.

Her head tipped back with a groaned, “oh fuck,” as she moved to the other breast. 

The need to get her off, to make sure she had the best orgasm possible, was a palpable itch he needed to scratch. It felt like he might just die without it. Keeping his left hand at her hip for balance, he brought the other to her center. 

Feeling his fingers tease her entrance, Lena popped her hips back to facilitate him. She was rewarded with a low hum of appreciation and a wink. 

Reveling in her expression — eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering and jaw slack — Nico continued his pursuit, easing two fingers into her, determined to find her g-spot. He’d done it before, he could surely do it again. 

He knew he'd found it, not only from the slightly different, spongey texture but also from the stuttered moan of pleasure that crawled up her throat. 

Her left hand smacked back onto the headboard, grasping desperately for balance as her hips rolled atop his face.

Milking her clit with his mouth, he worked his fingers in and out and up and down until she was trembling above him, chanting, “Yes! Nico, yes!”

He hummed back, moaning as a fresh wave of her arousal slicked over his chin. If this wasn’t about him making up for being such a prat, he would beg her to turn around so he could feel her mouth at the same time.

This was a whole new feeling. The combination of Nico’s extraordinary mouth, along with his magic fingers, was the catalyst for a series of reactions Lena had never felt together before. First, there was the intense heat that shimmered over her skin, then the pleasure that zinged from her core all the way up to her brain, and through her legs, right to her toes, still tucked into her pumps. Finally, there was the swirl of emotion and sensation that took up residence in her low belly. All together, they resulted in an orgasm so intense, she didn’t even have words to describe it. 

Color and sound and heat rushing through her until they swelled to bursting, unleashing all over Nico’s face. 

Choking out a groan of surprise as Lena’s orgasm gushed over his hand and flooded his mouth, he tried to commit every detail of this night to memory. He’d never made a woman squirt before and was bound and determined to remember everything so he could recreate it. He wanted to experience this over and over again.

She practically fell off of him, and they lay there, gasping. 

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, swiping at the liquid dripping off his neck. He had no idea if it was her release or his own sweat. He didn’t care. 

“Fuck me,” Lena breathed, her hand coming up to her forehead in disbelief. “You’re just bringing all sorts of things out of me today.” 

Nico started to giggle, and Lena couldn't help but join in. They soon found themselves rolling toward each other, overtaken with laughter. It ended up being both of their favorite memories of the night. Yes, Nico had just made her come so hard she saw stars, but this — this laughing together in the middle of it all felt so…comfortable. It was a reminder that at it’s core, their relationship hadn’t changed all that much. 

“I love you so much,” Nico laughed against her mouth. 

“I love you, too,” she said before silencing him with a kiss. 

He moaned and pulled her on top of him.

After a few more minutes of passionate kissing, chests still occasionally shaking with laughter, Lena pulled away. Grinding her core against his stomach - knowing it drove him wild - she said, “well, I think I’m plenty prepped.” 

He grinned and managed to tamp down most of his laughter. 

Helping her off of him, he watched her stand and brace her hands on the mattress before hauling himself out of the bed and shoving his pants down. When he’d pulled the hanger from the closet, he’d intended to hang them up, but the prospect of fucking her stole too much of his brain power to care anymore. So they stayed heaped on the floor as he took his place behind her, rutting his hard cock against her. 

She moaned and popped her hips back to grind on him. If she kept that up, he was going to come before he even got inside her. 

What was it she’d said? I want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me. Bringing a hand to the back of her neck, he pushed her forward until her chest pressed flush to his mussed comforter. 

Her heels were still on, and even though they pitched her legs forward at an awkward angle, forcing her to grasp for balance with her toes, she was glad she hadn’t kicked them off. She would have been too short without them, and there was something so hot about having to rely on him for her balance.

Lena moaned. She’d dreamed of this so many times. Of him coming into her room, pressing her down to the bed, or sweeping everything off her desk to bend her over the hard surface, and using those powerful legs and hips to fuck her brain into mush. When he told her, however you want me, she knew she had to take advantage. 

 Fuck, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. Seeing her bent over like this, with her beautiful back and the ample curves of her ass and hips on full display, was the fulfillment of a fantasy he hadn’t even known he had. He felt like the luckiest man on the planet. 

“You like that?” he asked, sliding his erection through her wet center.

Shifting her hips back, trying to entice him inside her, she breathed, “yes.” 

He took the bate, but only teased her entrance with the thick head of his cock. 

“Nico,” she whined. 

“Hm?” he asked, enjoying this far more than he ever thought he would. 

“Fuck me.” 

Something occurred to him suddenly, “do we need a safe word?” 

She was too busy trying to get more of him inside her without falling over to respond. 

Easing back as he lifted his hand off her neck, he asked, “what’s your safe word? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Lena,” he admonished. 

“Fine,” she huffed, mind whirring, “cantaloupe.” She’d bought one just the day before, and it was the the first thing that popped into her mind that didn’t sound too close to something she might yell out naturally, like puck, which was the first word she’d thought of. “Now fuck me.” 

A deep groan let go in his chest, and Nico pressed her back down, hand now resting between her shoulder blades. “This is okay?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she huffed, frustration evident in her voice, “come on.” 

His only response was to trace his thumb over her skin. 

“Please,” she whined, not caring that she sounded desperate and needy. She felt desperate and needy. 

Chuckling, he gave her no warning before burring his cock in her sweet, tight center. 

Hands fisting the comforter, Lena’s back swayed like a snake as an animalistic cry flew from her mouth. 

This kind of standing doggy, which she found allowed for stronger thrusting than kneeling, had always been one of her favorite positions. It felt new with Nico, though, who was thicker than any of her previous partners. He hit spots in her she never knew she had and filled her in a way she didn’t think was possible. 

Panting, she moved with him. The solid feel of him behind and inside her made her desperate for more. “Nico,” she moaned. Whatever else she was going to say jumbled in her mouth as he withdrew to the tip before burying himself back in her warmth. 

God, she was the most amazing woman he’d ever met. Her head was turned, so he got a view of her blissful expression in profile as she moaned and panted for him. The sight of her ass bouncing off his hips had him desperate to do things he’d never imagined himself doing before. Good thing they had a safe word. She might just need to use it. 

His free hand came down on her ass with a sharp slap before he grabbed the globe of it, kneading the muscle. 

She cried out. 

“That’s good?” he asked, wanting to make sure it wasn’t a cry of pain. 

“Yes,” she moaned, “so good, Nico.” She’d never liked getting spanked before. Then again, she’d never trusted someone like she trusted Nico. She knew he wouldn’t push it too far, which had always been her hesitation with the guys who tried it before. When Nico did it, it sent so much unexpected electricity rocketing through her system, she couldn't let go of the idea of him doing it again. 

He switched hands, so his right pressed into her back, and his left was free to smack her other cheek until it was red enough to match its partner. There was something incredibly arousing about knowing she trusted him to do this. That she found it hot, too. 

Back arching with the pleasurable pain, Lena begged, “harder.” 

“You want me to spank you harder?” he asked, a little surprised. He hadn’t exactly been gentle about it. 

Her head shook, just slightly, “Fuck me. Fuck me harder, Nico.” 

Sliding his hands over her curves and onto her hips to get a good grip, he got into a more grounded stance and snapped his hips to hers. 

The fulfillment of this fantasy nearly drove Lena out of her mind.  

Her face turned slightly, so her shout was muffled by the comforter. Which was a shame, really. He wouldn’t mind his neighbors overhearing this. Especially that dick next door who checked her out every time they passed by each other in the hall. 

Unable to hold it in, he moaned, “You’re so perfect for me, Lena.” 

“Yes,” she chanted, “for you, Nico. Only for you.” 

He wanted to make her come around his cock, but her declaration had a surge of heat streaking through him, so hot that his resolve crumbled in one fell swoop.

“Fuck, gonna come,” he groaned, his rhythm turning sloppy and swift. 

“Yes,” her hips tipped, just so, making her even tighter. 

The sensations became too much, and her name burst from his mouth in a shout. 

Feeling his hot release spill into her, Lena moaned.

Joints liquified by his orgasm, Nico collapsed, his chest pressing into her sweaty back. 

It took a few moments before he could get his mouth to work right. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her hair. 

“For what?” she laughed.

Feeling came back into his legs, and he eased out. “Didn't last long enough for you to get off.” 

With his weight off her. Lena crawled onto the bed, desperate to give her legs a rest. Her heels clunked to the floor, one after the other.

He climbed on beside her, pulling her against him. 

“You know,” she said as she turned over so they were face to face, “just because I didn't get off that one time doesn't mean I didn't thoroughly enjoy myself.” 

“You deserve to get off whenever I do,” he argued. 

“That's really sweet, Nico,” she assured, a hand coming up to caress his cheek and push his hair from his face. She knew he had a tendency to be too hard on himself, wanting everything to be perfect every time. “But don't forget you just made me come so hard I squirted.” 

He scoffed, “like I could ever forget that.” 

“And it's not like you came without getting me off,” she assured, tracing soft patterns on his scalp. “It evens out in the end.”

He made a discontented noise but didn't argue. 

She let it drop. “Let's go clean up, yeah? If you're really worried about it, you can get me off in the shower.” 

Pulling her even closer and burying his face in her neck, he told her, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she said, fingers carding through his hair. “Now, come on. I need to shower. You've made a right mess of me.” 

Laughing, he slid off the bed and lifted her into his arms. 

He deposited her onto the bathroom counter and started the shower. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes as he studied her face.

“With what?” 

“I didn’t hurt you?” 

She shook her head, “no. I would have told you if you did. I know you would have stopped if I told you to.” 

A relieved sigh let go in his chest. 

He lifted her off the counter and followed her into the shower. 

After soaping each other up, Nico did spend some time on his knees, getting her off not just once but several more times. He was too taken with her shaking legs and panting mouth as her hands sunk into his hair to stop at one.

“I did enough?” he asked a while later, after pajamas had been donned, and they’d crawled into bed.

“Enough what?”

“I made it up to you?” 

“Mmmhmmm…” she mumbled sleepily.

Tucking himself against her, he relished the warmth of her body pressed against his. 

“I forgave you long before I got naked, though,” she said, feeling it was important to clarify. “The awesome sex was just a bonus.” 

He chuckled softly, pressing a few soft kisses to her shoulder. 

“I love you,” she said, voice slow with fatigue. 

“I love you, too. Thank you for believing in me.” 

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known, Nico.”

Heart swelling in his chest, he pulled her a bit closer and settled in to fall asleep.  

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[teal-fiend]

You lean forward on the porch railing, cigarette dangling between your fingers as you survey the street. Your eyes, predatory in nature, can see every detail in the darkened trees, bushes, and mailboxes. Your friend’s night vision however, is not as competent. 

The evening's warm, the kind of night that feels thick with vice and contentment. 

Adding to that; Your belly is still a little heavy from your last feeding. It's barely a bump now—hardly noticeable—but you know it's there. Maybe someone with some discernment would be able to tell, too. Though Most people would think you’re just a bit chubby in the middle. Or bloated for a less sinister reason, than the fact that you ate someone a few days ago and you were still in the process of digesting them. 

But you imagined by tomorrow your gut would be all finished, and there’d be no indication at all that your prey was ever inside you. Feels good now, though. A lingering fullness. You haven’t felt the need to eat all day, you’re already set. 

In this period of resting and digesting, arose the perfect opportunity to socialise. Or more specifically, gossip. 

"You should have seen her," you mutter, flicking ash. "Dressed like she was going to some red carpet event, not a ‘date night’ at Denny’s - on a Tuesday, by the way. Like what the fuck is up with that?"

You pass the cig. Your friend raises an eyebrow, glancing over at you… and down at your… ex...? (does it count if you only went out once?) as they take a drag of their own. “Oh, and I’m sure you would never do anything remotely tacky. Like, I don’t know…eating your date?”

You narrow your eyes at them, "Excuse me?"

"Just saying," they reply, a savoir-faire smile slipping out. "Everyone’s got their flaws. Some people dress a bit extra on a date; others leave with a full belly."

You scoff, the irritation simmering. "What, and you're some saint? You don't even get it." You take your cigarette back and press it to your lips, inhaling sharply (before coughing grossly). "For your information, she practically begged to come back to my place - she knew what she was getting into."

“Uh-huh,” they reply, smiling. “Sure, if that’s how you want to rationalise it.”

“Go to hell.” You turn, crossing your arms, suddenly very aware of the slight curve at your middle. If your digestion hadn’t taken so long, you’d have a flat stomach by now. Maybe it was the dress. You coughed it up only yesterday. 

Was it… tacky to eat your date? You supposed, it was kind of stereotypical, for a pred. 

"Come on," they chuckle. "I mean hey, I’m just telling you how it is. You’re out here, Eating the person who agreed to go out with you. And you’re being picky about her fashion choices? Glass houses, and all that."

You glare at them, but they take your cigarette and blow out a lazy plume of smoke, thoroughly amused at your expense. You simmer in irritation, shifting your weight onto your other foot. 

The silence between you and your friend settles—until your gut cuts in with a deep, rolling gurgle, loud enough to break it.

You flush, hoping your friend doesn’t comment, but they do, laughing, “ I guess she’s not too happy with what you’ve been saying about her. Maybe she wants to give her side of the story.” 

You scowl, folding your arms tighter across your stomach. The sound goes off again, a long groan that practically echoes in the night. Your gut must be pushing your meal along now. But could it not be so loud? Now was not a good time.

"Real mature," you mutter, kicking ash at your feet, trying to ignore the heat prickling in your cheeks. "She’s not saying anything.”

"Those tummy growls seem to say otherwise," your friend teases, tilting their head down at your inflamed middle,  “She seems a little unsettled about this whole ‘formal attire’ critique… 

I mean, I’d think you would come to appreciate her taste by now… all things considered.”

You shoot them an unamused look, but your stomach gives an almost petulant glorp, as if it's agreeing with them. They just laugh, delighted, and lean back on the railing, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You give your belly a pointed pat. "She's got nothing left to say. Trust me."

But your friend just grins, eyes gleaming with humour as your belly gives another rhythmic groan. "Uh-huh. sure.”

As your friend’s laughter tapers off, you feel an odd little twinge in your stomach. At first, you ignore it, brushing it off as just a slight bit of indigestion, but the feeling only intensifies—an unease right below your ribs. You shift on your feet, putting a hand over your belly, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Your friend looks over to you, their expression switching to concern. “Are you alright there? Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset your stomach.”

You put a hand over your mouth, not knowing what to expect. With a lurch, you spit up something small and metallic, clinking as it lands in your open palm.

It’s a delicate, gold earring, with a little white gem in the centre—one of hers. You stare down at it, your face heating as you remember her fingers brushing over it just last night, laughing as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. You didn’t think much of it then.

Your friend peers over, curious. “Well, well. Looks like she left you a little souvenir.” They observe it carefully, and look down at you, “I wonder if the other one is still in there.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, pocketing the earring with a scowl on your face. You press your hand against your stomach again, to gauge whether anything else is thinking about coming back up. 

“Maybe you should remove them first next time,” they suggest, “I hear eating prey with jewellery on can give you indigestion.”

“Helpful.” you mutter through gritted teeth.

[starberry-cupcake]

if my silly recaps and my reactions bring a small smile to your face or remind you of a book you love in these trying times, it's all worth it ♥ I'm hugging you softly and telling you I'm here for you ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

EPIPARODOS

9 months and 29 days before the emperor's murder

I need you all to know I'm reading all of these announcements of time stamps for the emperor's murder like this

I spent these past 2 days marinating on this time stamp and making math in my head with the fact that harrow told palmolive that he's been in his river loft for 8 months

and being like "is this gonna be the Explanation????"

sort of

remember when I said harrow was probably the one who did the mind tampering or, at least, it was done with her consent?

I WAS CORRECT

I also said maybe it had to do with the emperor and his murder but that's not yet been clarified

harrow is asking yandere twin to help her do a brain procedure to forget stuff

for reasons that will be partially disclosed later

basically, it's like if she was asking her to cut her hair for her, but more metal

yandere twin also sort of dunks on palmolive and harrow goes like "you wash your third house filthy mouth before talking about my bestie palmolive sextus like that"

she didn't say that word by word, she said "I may have been Sextus's necromantic superior; but he was the better man. You are not even so worthy of that brain as to wipe its bloodied remnants from the wall."

which is kinda similar in concept

camilla would have high-fived her for that one

yandere twin is trying to convince harrow not to do the brain hair cut because it's dangerous and potentially useless

as if that has ever stopped someone from the ninth from doing crazy shit

harrow tells yandere twin that if she thinks becoming a lyctor doesn't mean they're more trapped than ever, she's delulu

harrow also exhibits one golden eye

and I'm like WAS GIDEON SLURPED IN THE END???? I WAS HOLDING OUT FOR HOPE!!!!

yandere twin says "time to absolutely fuck you up"

cue brain makeover montage with this song

please imagine it with that song, I need you to see my vision

I swear it's very important

I didn't mention it before but this chapter was narrated by yandere twin

sponsored by chad aka babs aka nebarius...was it nebarius or naberius? anyway

she says that harrow's brain makeover is a "destructive, romantic, ridiculous act"

I sure hope so

she also says she's gonna marry harrow, but probably not

I sure hope not, because it's not my ship, yandere twin, I'm sorry

I like you, but not for harrow

ACT FIVE

CHAPTER 40, 41, 42

I'm grouping these all together because they're a ~theme~

the fact that the titles of them are like ?????????? is very much the spirit of these recaps

thank you, author, I see your vision

these are other aus, much like the canaan house gideon-less au, but with different scenarios

first au has a broken IX skull, it takes place in the ninth and harrow is called "nova" instead of "nonagesimus"

in it, she's fighting ortus, or attempting to

because harrow wants ortus to give her the spot of cavalier primary

which is very regina george twin and chad behavior, they had a similar situation going on, but they resolved it with biting

as you do in the third house

(I just wached a yt video in which a person was called 'babs' and they said the name so many times it's starting to make me want to name chad correctly)

(it's fixing my brain)

she also mentions a Reverend Daughter who isn't her

she doesn't seem to like the other reverend daughter, even if she stepped in to intercede for her at one time, and ortus and her argue about it until crux comes in

it's giving gideon and harrow switching spots, in a way, although gideon never wanted to be cavalier primary

neither did ortus

regina george twin is the only one fighting for that spot

she is made to go and apologize to two pilgrims standing there and, when she does, it's abby and magnus from the fifth

and abby says "this isn't how it happens"

our favorite phrase

next au has a V broken skull and takes place in a ball

there is a Divine Highness who is looking for a bride and this is a dance to present suitors to her

the sixth house isn't dancing or joining in on the party, wich is another tick on my personal checklist of my favorite house

idk if there's a quiz of which house you're in but I hope I'm that one

*me getting the second and having to erase my memory like harrow*

abby and magnus show up once again and magnus is eating the food and complimenting harrow on how accurate it is

ortus is with them too, because polycule

they all wanted to see where this au led (actually, me too) but, you know what they say

say it with me:

"this isn't how it happens"

42 is a broken IV skull

this one is, at the start, a sort of military au

the kiddies from the fourth show up, remember them?

they're still talking in whispers among themselves

so cute ♥ I'd say protect them at all costs, but we already failed at that

the important part of this one is that it turns from a military au into a coffee shop au

and there's a BARI star (puns!)

"the arms beneath the rolled-up sleeves betrayed lean, taut muscle, a little dewy with sweat and steam from the mess. But it was the face that sent her neurons in a thalergetic spin. When Harrowhark looked at that face, she found a curious heat travelling all the way up from the pit of her pylorus to the high collar of her Cohort shirt. It then traversed her cheeks, her nose, her brow, her temples. The other officer smiled a firm-jawed, long, crooked smile at her; Harrow was electrified by the fact that beneath the hastily brushed crop of red hair those eyes were—"

(the fact that my playlist started 2 become 1 from the spice girls right now is actually incredibly funny)

AND ABBY GOES "Absolutely not"

ABBY NOOOOOOOOOO

ABBY LET ME HAVE THISSSSSSSS

LET ME HAVE A COFFEE SHOP AU INTERLUDE AS A TREAT

I DESERVE IT

WE ALL DESERVE IT

CHAPTER 43

GIDEON FRACTURED SKULL PEOPLE

AVIATOR GLASSES, CROSSED OUT IX, CRACKED SKULL

one night before the emperor's murder

we're connecting the timelines

ortus's polycule is arguing about the previous scenarios and whether or not "that was..." while harrow wakes up

abby promptly shoos everyone out of the room

FOLKS LISTEN TO THIS NOW

LISTEN TO THISSSSSSS

"If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten. Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee. Griddle."

I'M IN P A I N

I'M IN S H A M B L E S

(my playlist decided on hoobastank's the reason now lmao what is happening with the 90s/early2000s playlist tonight)

OK OK EXPOSITION TIME

sort of, you know how it is

harrow remembers gideon and cries for her as we all do

abby is asking her questions and gives her one minute to mourn

so, harrowcita decided to do the hair cut brain procedure to separate the part of her brain that remembered and understood gideon's soul

accoding to her, it was "a brute-force solution but it worked"

very gideon behavior, we love that

abby points out that harrow is also very much haunted by an invasive soul

harrow's like ?????????????????????????? on top of everything else?????????

I'm wondering if this is ice cube barbie????? not sure

abby explains that harrow is possessed by an angry spirit and that she's losing against it

ice cube barbie sure has reason to be angry if she wants to, she had to put up with doctor reverend emperor john's bs

also, the canaan au is harrow's form of palmolive's bachelor loft, the bubble in the river thing

she made an au in the river and brought on all her ghostie ghoulie friends to populate it

abby tells her that she didn't remove her memories of gideon, she re-wrote and re-touched them with ortus, which is why he was invited, and she also filled in spaces of some people (people who weren't dead) with constructs

harrow says "what a waste of a woman, to have ended her life at the bottom of a ladder"

RIGHT???? she was killed so book 1 could be longer, otherwise it would have been solved in 2 minutes, no wonder she's the top in the polycule

apparently also a lot of what's happening at this canaan au has been modified by this invasive spirit that's haunting harrow

harrowcita tells abby who's alive, abby says regina george twin should have been the lyctor

NOW WAIT A MINUTE THERE

yandere twin and I don't see eye to eye on everything but I get defensive if someone's trashing her abilities in comparison to her sister

also "The Master Warden found the idea of dying inconvenient"

I love that chad catches a lot of strays when he isn't there but palmolive gets a lot of compliments when he isn't there

did they ever interact one on one btw? I don't remember, it feels like a jock vs nerd situation

wait, are they a ship???

why am I asking this now IT'S NOT THE TIME

harrow starts quoting gideon ♥ "as her—cavalier—might have put it, absolutely butt-fuck nothing happened"

we love that, so poetic

harrowcita basically can't leave her canaan bubble now because she's in the river due to the fight that was going on with the beast and whatnot

abby says that the canaan au happens when harrow is asleep, unconscious or just disconnected from outside stimuli

harrow tells her about the beast and how she was brochetted out there

abby says that she's not dead yet because, if she was, her soul would be gone forever and they need to ensure her body survives

harrow asks herself "what is happening out there?"

WOULDN'T WE LIKE TO KNOW

BUT WE WON'T KNOW YET

because I have immense willpower and knew this was the right time to stop reading, otherwise this recap would be awfully long

gonna put "strong willpower" in my cv to see if the sixth house accepts me

see you in the next one very soon!!! be safe and take care of yourselves ♥

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

"time will tell" ... but what exactly?

i thought about making this reading because we are living at times when we all know that patience is a virtue, we all know that we should work on said virtue, and so on, yet, things move are always seemingly moving in the fastest chaotic way possible. for some of us, embracing uncertainty and the absurd ways of the universe is hard. so hopefully there's something in here that helps you to have a clearer vision on what is meant to come to you with time and experience.

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws & @cafekitsune pngs by: @florietas

pile number one pile number two

pile number three pile number four

.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ tarot menu

✶ ko-fi page (support and tarot services) ✶

before starting with this reading i just want to say that my heart goes to anyone on the united states that feels disappointed and is going through emotionally stressful situations due to the results of the elections. at times like this is important to find empowerment and safety by taking care of our peers and participating our communities, political organization is just as important as caring for one another. having a right wing president who borders fascism is not a great experience, i have my own alt right president here in south america, but surviving these moments is easier when you find strength alongside the people who share your ideals.

we don't owe tolerance to those who are intolerant, our time is always better spent when we are building the future we want or doing our best to face the adversities of the present. please, do not allow others to take away your humanity and your hopes.

・₊✧⋆ pile number one ⭒˚｡⋆

If someone ever told you that your expectations are unrealistic, they are not wrong, but not entirely right either. I think you're someone who unconsciously tries to be aware of every possible outcome and every single detail, it's quite a hyper vigilant way of approaching things and also a quite anxiety inducing one. I wouldn't say your expectations are unrealistic, but I would definitely say they are realistic in the context of the millions of head scenarios you have going on. Some emotions are being limited by logic and some logics are being limited by emotion. There are plenty of experiences that are coming your way in order to give you the opportunity to be more present in the moment instead of experiencing things mostly in your head. You need time to further develop your judgment, as of now it is something that is in an adolescent state, not because of immature or juvenile thinking, but because you are going through a, hopefully, slightly painful phase of your mental growth. Think of it as existential growing pains. You might have too much information, too much to think about and too much to feel about, it's a very difficult moment for you to maintain a self perceived stable or coherent point of view at all times. Take this time to comprehend what's making you feel paralyzed and unable to move forward mentally, and then you can begin doing something about this conjunction of mental and emotional stress.

・₊✧⋆ pile number two ⭒˚｡⋆

What I get from this combination of cards is that you are becoming more aware of the things that are threatening your higher self. From the Queen and the Page I can see that you are usually almost confident enough in what you bring to the table in terms of material achievements that are easily recognizable, although not always perceived or valued enough by yourself or others. I don't think I want to say there's someone or yourself gaslighting you into belittling yourself, but I do want to mention that it's likely that there's a sketchy energy near you or at least the cards are giving a heads up about negative reactions to you doing your thing and, to say simply, slaying it. What it is safe to say tho is that with time you will learn who is worthy of your generosity and your companion. It's key that you understand that any kind of success you achieve is not only valuable because of what you got from it, the value comes from what you did to get said achievements. With this in mind, don't hesitate to avoid others who drain your energy and misuse your time. Your presence by itself it's already enough for others to benefit at your cost. This is not something meant to give you a reason to be overly distrustful, this is to give you reasons to set boundaries, specially for yourself, in order to make sure whoever or whatever brings you down, it's out of your way. If people see the respect you have for yourself, it's more likely they are not even trying to waste your time.

・₊✧⋆ pile number three ⭒˚｡⋆

.

Being emotionally attached to the person you were in the past is obstructing your path towards further personal and existential growth. I definitely understand that sometimes the only thing that gives us a sense of stability is our own identity, and our power to define ourselves in our own terms. I don’t think you are afraid to grow or to evolve as a person, but I can see that right now you are resisting change by ignoring your intuitive need to expand your limits and find out about all the things, the positive and negative,that you choose to ignore because of old fears and anxieties. It’s very likely you know exactly what to do or what to keep and what to let go off,  you certainly are aware of where to go and how to get there. What's conflicting with your ambitions right now is that you have exhausted yourself by never taking the time to appreciate how far you already are from plenty of situations that have restricted your authentic self. I honestly understand what it's like to make a lot of progress after moving away from tough situations only to realize there is more work to do in order to restore or find an integral state of peace of mind and contempt. In your case, you’re lucky because sooner or later your emotions will lead you to how you can be truthful to yourself and experience life without any of the weight from limiting perceptions that other people have imposed on you. Many things have limited time in our lives, don’t miss out on them.

.

・₊✧⋆ pile number four ⭒˚｡⋆

.

Don't force yourself to be the first to do anything or the best at anything if you're comparing yourself to others. It is not fair to set your expectations about yourself by looking at what is supposably perfect or highly desirable, yet not a true reflection of what you as an individual can accomplish in a way that's genuine to your personal journeys. It's necessary that you embrace your experiences, putting yourself and your own ideals as the guide for what it means to advance and grow. Time will show you how to build a stronger confidence in your core beliefs and how to act upon them with the efficiency and courage you might be needing right now. This will develop as you become more comfortable with allowing yourself to fail, and to learn from said failures by setting structures to support the process of becoming more connected to a higher sense of self worth. You are going through a process in which key communicational aspects are at play;  many of your personal achievements will depend on your ability to share your ideas with others before taking any kind of action, as many things you’ll do will have long lasting effects. This is why I would recommend making sure you can really align your actions, your communication and your goals directly to yourself and the roots of your ideals. Don’t hurry up, it takes time to evolve and you will certainly do so by comprehending how equally confused, disoriented and impulsive we all are, and how that’s nothing anyone can ignore for too long.

.

if you enjoyed this post, maybe you should check out the rest of my account <3 and keep an eye open for ask games and a tarot reading giveaway (but lets not hurry too much about it please im still figuring out the logistics of a tumblr giveaway jajaja)

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ tarot menu

✶ ko-fi page (support and tarot services) ✶

⋆bookings for personal readings are open ཐིཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

enamored with the bill possessing Ford's body au. If you would feel up to it, do you have more tidbits? :3

I’m happy to see so many people enjoying it!! I have a lot of additional tidbits so I’ll just stick to giving a few for now:

— Dipper finds out Ford is the author a lot earlier, for the obvious reasons of Bill being present in Ford’s body. He doesn’t put the pieces together right away, only because initially, he hates Bill, disappointed that the ‘scientist’ his parents spoke about that he wanted to impress turned out to be nothing like what he had hoped, ignoring and dismissing him instead, even taking a liking to Mabel before him! He has this idealised version of the author in his head, someone who he relates to and finds comfort in, and he doesn’t want to taint that vision by suspecting it may be someone who he hates. He may be a mystery lover but he is still a twelve year old with a grudge.

It’s only after he and Bill start getting along that he brings it up, and Bill doesn’t think to lie. He’s just that surprised Dipper found it. He does lie about not remembering things though to avoid Dipper’s questions about the paranoia and why he hid it — as on the spot kind of thing, and that becomes Dipper’s mystery fixation of the summer.

— Stan and Bill have various nicknames for each other, with Bill’s main one for Stan being ‘Fez’, and Stan’s main one for Bill being ‘Goldie’.

— Speaking of them, when it comes to their relationship, they are genuinely friends after thirty years of living together, but what that friendship entails is where it gets complicated and I don’t think I can summarise here. I’d say it can best be described as two people who have come to understand each other very deeply, and are similar in a thousand ways, but they would rather throw themselves off a cliff than acknowledge or talk about that. There’s also the lingering anger and resentment on Stan’s end, not for taking Ford’s body, he knows Bill doesn’t want to be stuck here either, but for what he did to Ford before that, how he hurt him. He, much to his confusion, does care about Bill, and Bill, much to his own confusion as well, does care about Stan back, but their friendship is built on something awful, and that doesn’t just go away.

— On a sillier note, it was in 1990 that Stan realised Bill was his only friend and that he sort of enjoyed his company, and that truly was a horrifying moment. On the other end Bill finally admits to some degree he might care for Stan in 1994, which happens while both of them are drunk, and Bill likes to claim it didn’t happen. The image below also probably summarises the lighter aspect of their dynamic better than I could word it here:

— Bill has taxidermy as a hobby and actually gives Dipper and Mabel a few lessons in it, creating some displays for the shack. Weirdly good bonding activity.

— Very specific ‘episode’ idea in my mind where Stan and Bill get framed by Faires that Bill angered a thousand years ago for a crime they didn’t commit, and Dipper and Mabel have to figure out how to prove their innocence, finding more about their Grunkles along the way, and also having to beat a fairy in a game of poker.

— Mabel at some point comes to the conclusion her “Grunkle Ford” had a bad breakup that he still hasn’t gotten over and makes it her goal to help him through it. This is part of her summer mission. It comes up frequently. It’s ridiculous I know but what is Gravity Falls without a generous amount of both angst and utter silliness.

I’ll probably leave it at that for now! But if you’d want more or have any specific questions, I shall do my best. I’m still figuring out some stuff too so input will be helpful.

[willsimpforanyone]

Hello! I'm not sure if you are taking requests right now, but I'd you are could you do something with a daughter of medusa who us almost or fully blind and everyone avoids her except for percy who has a crush on her? Can end however ypu would like :).

And remember to take of yourself and drink water!!! ❤️

thank u my lovely <3 hope u enjoy

i do have bad vision but i am not blind, so i apologise for inaccuracies,

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

medusa was blessed with a daughter

gorgeously thick, curly hair, strong as hell, brought up by your mother as best she could

she was so happy when you opened your eyes as a baby and no one you looked at turned to stone

her curse was not yours!

it only took a moment for her to realise her curse had a different effect on you

you were not cursed, but as a side effect of being medusa's child, you were almost completely blind

growing up, you never realised there was anything too different about you

why would you? your mother raised you and she kept her eyes covered most of the time, she knew how to live as a blind woman in a seeing world

things got worse as you got older, and around 10 years old is when it got really bad

the monsters were relentless, and even medusa hiding you away didn't seem to help with the nightmares

so, when you were 12, she brought you to the camp

chiron was hesitant, but knew you meant no harm - you were a scared, lonely kid, like so many others before you

kinda for the first time, you were interacting with people who could see

it wasn't hard to guess who your mother was, and apparently that was enough for the other kids to reject you immediately

you learned to wear sunglasses or some kind of fabric over your eyes, otherwise some kid would start screaming

the first couple years of teenhood were rough

of course. you learned to live with it

you learned to become incredibly spacially aware, to be able to walk into a room and know exactly how many people there were and where they were standing

there were some kids who were alright, some from the athena cabin were civil despite their mom being the one who cursed yours

occasionally, though, there was a kid called percy

a son of posiden, who you were suitably wary enough of (again, considering the story)

he came to camp a little before you did, and was off on a quest when you actually arrived

it was an odd introduction

"hi, i'm percy, i kinda killed your mom"

you had shrugged, fingers still trailing over the book in front of you

"i know. she sent me an iris message from the underworld. it's not the first time someone's killed her, she'll be back in a few days"

the silence that followed was one of awkward expectation, and you snorted a laugh. "dude, chill out, i don't care anymore"

he'd hesitantly accepted your acceptance and had left, and you'd thought that would be the end of it

to your surprise, he would come back and talk

a friendship blossomed over the next couple years, something that was new to you

you genuinely liked him

he didn't ask questions about being blind all the time, he didn't scream when your sunglasses slipped down your nose, he seemed to automatically let you know what he was doing and where he was in your space

with him came grover, the somewhat nervous satyr who calmed down once annabeth, percy's other friend, slapped the back of his head when he asked if your hair was just a bunch very thin snakes

this was more friends than you'd had in your life, and it was kind of incredible

annabeth got some books in greek braille, and together you discovered that it was easier for you to read - the ancient greek hardwire was still very much present in your brain, even if you couldn't see the letters

percy, however, went the extra mile every time

every activity you were hesitant about, he was right there with you, describing the new areas, offering to help but never touching you or giving advice unless you asked first

any time something changed with the camp, whether it was a part of the forest or the layout of the camp itself, he'd go with you to explore the differences to change the mental map you had in your head

late nights were reserved for sitting together around a campfire, maybe with grover and annabeth, maybe not

but they were a time for you to ask questions instead

what colour were the new swords? what does bronze look like? is the red of the strawberries as sweet as they taste?

he would answer as best he can, trying to explain from every angle, like trying not to use other colours to explain another colour

one night, in your fourth year of camp, you got up the courage to ask him the question you'd been wanting to ask him forever

"percy? what do i look like?"

there was a pause, and you knew he had turned to look at you by the rustling of his hair

...a minute passes, and you shift in your seat

"you don't have to tell me, it's fine, forget i asked-"

"no!"

he interrupts you, blurting out a protest a little louder than he intended

he continues, clearing his throat

"no, i just- would it be okay if you took your sunglasses off? so i can give you the best description?"

in answer, you slipped off your sunglasses, hanging them in the neck of your t-shirt

all you could see was a faint warm, orange-yellow glow from the fire

percy takes a breath

"okay, here goes- you're beautiful. i-i know that isn't much but... you look warm. like the feeling of coming back to our cabin at the end of a really good day, tired but happy, and everything is quiet and calm and cosy and you know you're gonna sleep so good. you look like sunsets over the sea, like someone has managed to set the horizon on fire but, y'know. less dangerous than setting fire to things."

you laugh, subconsciously leaning against his shoulder with your heart trying to keep pace with the butterflies in your stomach

"yeah? i look warm?"

his voice is almost a whisper

"right now, yeah. the firelight is reaching out over the grass to touch you, preferring to have you warm than the trees around us. if we were regular teenagers, we could be telling scary stories"

i rest my hand, palm up, on his knee, a silent way of telling him to give me his hand

he does so, and i link our fingers together tightly, a 'thank you' that we don't need to hear

"percy?"

"yeah?"

"what do you look like right now?"

another pause, and he squeezes my fingers gently

"i think... right now, i look like i'm completely in love with you"

my head lifts from his shoulder, head turned to him as if i need to hear him better, like we aren't side to side, holding hands

"you... what?"

he breathes a shaky laugh, and i feel his hand move to pause just over my cheek

"sorry, that wasn't a great description, but i couldn't think of anything else to say. can i put my hand on your cheek?"

slowly, i nod, feeling his warm palm settle against my skin, his thumb brushing over my cheek

"please say no if you don't want me to," he whispers, voice nervous but also filled with hope

"but can i please kiss you?"

i don't need to be able to see to know how big he smiles when i say "yes"

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

i hope that was okay? i tried my best, if anyone has an issue with it or wants me to correct something, let me know!

[birdiewritessometimes]

Hello, can I request for draco x reader and their naughty twin children; a daughter and a son.

One day, the reader and draco are still at work atthe ministry of magic, so narcissa and lucius offer to take the children at malfoy manor. The reader agrees and draco is hesitant because the children are really naughty and his parents(especially narcissa) love to spoil them. As they pick them up, draco is beyond mortified seeing the children being spoiled by his parents and his aunt bellatrix.

I hope this isn’t too much to ask

Spoiled Rotten

A/N: Hi!! I'm so sorry for the wait, i really hope i made your vision justice! I found this request super cute and it was really sweet to write! Thank you so much for requesting and once again i hope i made your vision come to life <3

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x wife reader

Themes/warnings: fluff, nothing else really, just cute family dynamics

Word count: 1200-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

You anxiously looked at the clock on the wall for what felt like the 100th time. You needed to finish your work at the ministry in time to pick up your son and daughter. You had so much work that needed to be finished, yet you had no idea how you will finish in time. You husband was also very busy today. With one look at the pile of files that needed to be looked through you sighed and rose from your seat. You walked through the ministry looking for Draco. You needed an idea of what to do with your children, since it seemed like neither of you could make it in time for pick up. You found your husband in his office, buried in paperwork. You softly knocked on the door that stood slightly ajar. His eyes lightened as he saw you in his doorway.

“Hello, darling, to what do I owe this pleasure.” He said, his eyes shining, yet he looked tired. You smiled softly. You walked into his office and placed a soft kiss on his lips. You felt him smile as his arms pulled you down, so you were in his lap. You let out a soft laugh.

“Love, this isn’t really appropriate for work.” You whispered.

“What do I care?” He shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face. You smiled at the love of your life. He may be older and more tired now than he was when you met, but he still looks as handsome as the day you first laid your eyes on him. He was looking at you with the same look of love that you were giving him.

“The reason I’m here is that I might need to work late today, and I need ideas as to what we should do with the two rascals?” You said and you saw him frown slightly but before he could answer a voice spoke up from the doorway making you jump out of your husbands lap.

“Oh, we will take them!” It was Narcissa, your lovely mother-in-law. In the doorway was Narcissa and Lucius and you mother-in-law had the most expectant look in her eyes. She adored her grandbabies; her favourite days were when they would spend the days playing around Malfoy Manor.

“Oh really? That would be amazing, the kids love the grandparents!” You said, enthusiastically. You looked back at Draco who looked hesitant.

“What is it, darling?” You asked him, making his eyes snap up to yours.

“Well, they’re already so spoiled and I know mum and dad will spoil them even more.” He replied, the hesitant look on his face.

“Nonsense Draco! Let me babysit my grandbabies!” Narcissa said incredulously to which you let out a giggle.

“It would be amazing if you could look after them for the evening, we will come get them when we finish work, does that work?” You spoke, ignoring your husbands hesitation.

“Of course, you two finish work and then we can have dinner at our place.” Narcissa smiled at you. You gave her a relieved smile.

“You are truly the best.” You said gratefully to Lucius and Narcissa. Your in-laws gave you a smile, gave Draco a look, which made you giggle, and went to get your children. You turned on your husband when they had gone.

“Why would you say that Draco? That was the best solution for the problem.” You scolded him to which he shrugged.

“You know that they’re spoiled, and I know that if Aunt Bella is there, they will be even worse.” He said as he casually flipped through some files. You shook your head in disbelief.

“You know you were spoiled rotten as a child too, right?” You said with a chuckle at the bewildered look on your husbands face. You slipped out of his office before he could reply. You went back to your own office to finish up with work. You stayed at work for a few more hours, now being able to focus on work and not worry about your kids. Draco was the one who knocked at your office around 6 pm.

“Time for dinner, love.” He said with a smile. You collected your things and joined your husband to leave the ministry. You apparated to the front porch of Malfoy Manor. Draco opened the door to the house.

“Mum, dad, we’re here!” He shouted as you walked in and hung up your coats on the hangers by the entrance. You could hear your children’s laughter as you moved through to the dining room. The scene before you made you pause. Before your in-laws, Bellatrix and your children was a buffet of every type of dessert you could think of. You children were in their pyjamas as they sat excitedly by the table, waiting to dig into the sugar fest that laid before them. You casted a wary glance at your husband who was staring in disbelief at the table.

“Mum, dad, what is going on?” He asked as you watched the situation with amusement on your face. You daughter beamed at the question.

“Mummy, daddy, grammy and gramps made dinner, we got to choose.” She said excitedly with a smile so wide you could see the gap from where she lost her tooth a couple of days ago.

“So, you made a dessert buffet?” Draco asked in disbelief as your children nodded excitedly.

“They just asked so nicely and it wont hurt for one night.” Narcissa chuckled.

“See, I told you she spoils them rotten.” Draco said as he turned to you, mortified.

“Now, now, Draco, you know you were way more spoiled when you were little. Let Cissy spoil her grandkids.” Bellatrix said which made you chuckle as you started to make your way to the table.

“See Bella, that’s what I said to him, he wouldn’t listen.” You said with a chuckle as you sat down next to your son who was looking at the table with excitement. When you looked over the food, or well, treats you noticed that there was a large variety of fruits as well.

“See darling, there is fruit, now stop your moping and come join us so we can eat.” You said to your husband, who grumbled something about not being spoiled when he was a child. You chuckled at him before digging into the very sweet dinner. It was a successful dinner, everything tasted great, your children had a great time on a sugar high for a while after before crashing and falling asleep in each of your arms as you sat in the living room with your family.

“They really are spoiled rotten.” Draco said as he brushed your daughter’s hair out of her face. You let out a quiet laugh.

“That won’t hurt once in a while, that’s what grammy’s and gramp’s house is for.” You said quietly as you made eye contact with your in-laws who were looking at their grandchildren with so much fondness you knew they would spoil them until they couldn’t anymore. Just as it should be.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Hugs That Heal

Today had been shit. There was no other way to say it. You got yelled at by no less than three customers for issues that weren’t actually issues, your childhood dog had died, and your friends had to cancel on coming by the shop before close. And your fucking period started today meaning that even though you kept it together all you wanted to do was weep.

You had only been living with Simon for a few months. He wasn't home much and often on a near unpredictable basis. Hoping against hope that he wouldn't be home today you slid your key home. When the door opened, the key still in the lock, you knew hope would not save you.

He still wore his mask and had hard eyes. Fuck. This was Ghost, the mismatched name for a man who wears a skull mask to keep his identity hidden.

Staring at you he didn't move.

"Move or I will find out if you are afraid of tears." They are already brimming at your lash line.

Ghost stepped back. You still had to wedge yourself between the wall and his stiff body. The contact with a body that held no softeness for you was to much. Tears slid down your cheeks as you toed off your shoes and moved on socked feet to the bathroom. Done there, toilet used and teeth cleaned, you moved to your room. Changing turned out to be difficult as your tears worsened and the shaking started.

Barely holding it together you find the kitchen by memory alone. The large shape you can see when your vision isn't filled with tears confirms your roommate is still awake.

"Ghost?"

No reply. Your crying turns to sobbing.

"Can I have a hug?"

Eight sobbing breaths pass before the air shifts in front of you. Reaching out blind you bury yourself into his chest, unleashing the full force of everything that had been bottled up today. His arms drift around you, holding more onto himself than you. That's fine. You don't need much tonight, only to know you are not alone.

Chest hollow you step back, sleeves scraping at both eyes.

"Sorry about that Ghost." Glancing up you see the presence of a soul again. Simon must be back. "Simon. I apologize about that. I am going to go be mortified in my bed now. G'night."

Turning on your heel you march to your bed, hurling yourself between the sheets as self flaggliation becomes your favorite refraine.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

HIII OK SO THIS IS A REALLY SPECIFIC REQ SO IF U CANT DO IT THEN ITS ALL GOOD

so

COULD U DO AVERY X BESTFRIEND!READER (PLATONIC OFC) WHERE HER BESTGRIEND IS LIKE A SINGER / ACTRESS

MAYBE THE READER JS GOING THROUGH A ROUGH SPOT W JAMESON AND AVERY COMFORTS HER.

JUST SOME BESTIE LOVE YK

hi!! I’m SO SO SO SO SO SO INSANELY sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to this request it was literally requested on the 20th of august and I feel so bad!! but I finally finished and I hope you enjoy

title: she’s always there

pairing: avery x bestfriend!reader (platonic)

synopsis: after a fight with jameson you know you need avery at your side to make things right again

warnings: mild swearing

a/n: three months too late but I didn’t forget you, hope you enjoy anon :))

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

The door slams shut. The sound echoes through my ears, bouncing around my head, a painful reminder of all that had just exploded. I stumble forwards, my fingers shaking on the doorknob. I want to run to him but my legs are stuck in an invisible cement. So my body gives way and I crumble to the floor.

Tears blur my vision as I shake in a pathetic heap. My chest hurts with each ugly sob. I hate fighting, but I hate this even more. This pain, this agony. I sob harder until my throat is so raw only cracked sounds come out.

I stay there for what feels like hours, maybe even days. I’m heavy with exhaustion and grief. I know I need to get up but I don’t move. I can’t will myself out of this position. Fear flickers in the pit of my stomach. Why can’t I get up? I have no energy, no motivation.

Nothing, I feel nothing.

But even the dread of feeling nothing doesn’t even pull me from the numbness. My skin is thickened with a layer of senselessness. I’m too weighted by my own sadness to move. This happened before, this happened last time, this couldn’t happen again.

I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. The sound almost deafening. I’m taking sharp jagged breaths that I can’t control. I need Avery.

I need her more than anything right now. She promised me if things got bad again that she would be one call away. And she made me promise that I’d call her. I couldn’t break my promise, I’m not a person who breaks their promises.

But I haven’t seen her in weeks and what if she only thinks I call her when I’m struggling? What if she thinks I’m using her? What if she gets tired and just walks out like everyone else?

I usually block out ‘the before��. But I can remember snippets, like how I couldn’t to get out of bed, to get off of the floor, to move, to eat, to take care of myself and how I felt then I’m starting to feel now. An icy coolness is pulsating through my veins, so sharp that I can’t feel it anymore.

My phone is next to my face. I can see it. But my finger feels like they’re being dragged down my a large iron ball and chain. I can’t even reach my phone for my emergency contact. My hollow chest begins to throb.

“Call Avery,” I whisper to my phone, “please call Avery. I need her.”

One ring. Tw-

“Ave,” I murmur, my voice shaking.

She replies almost instantly, “what’s wrong?”

She’s sharp, she’s ready, she’s immediate. She’s going to help me pull myself together, I tell myself.

“I need you,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say other than the truth. I can’t sugarcoat anything now. I’m not fine. I can’t move.

“I’m coming,” Avery tells me.

“It’s getting bad again,” I snivel the words just blurting out before there’s enough time for them to be filtered

I feel her freeze for a moment, “bad?”

“I’m stuck on the floor,” I mumble, my throat hoarse and sore, “I can’t move.”

“Just wait there okay,” she comforts, “I’m coming.”

“My life is a mess,” I ramble, not being able to stop myself. I’ve lost control, over my mind, over my body, over my words.

“I’ll be over in two minutes okay, stay on the line with me,” she says urgently.

“I’m sorry,” I say choking out another sob, “I’m so so sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” she says firmly but with kindness behind her tone, “just sit tight and I’m coming.”

“Okay,” I exhale, trying to ignore the lump growing in my throat.

“What happened?” she asks so softly I just want to melt into even more of a puddle of a human being. I’m halfway there, my limbs sprawled every which way, my tearstained face covered by a curtain of hair.

“Everything went wrong,” I tremble, not knowing how else to describe it. The scene plays out in the mind again and again, a pitiless record of pain on loop.

“What’s everything?” Avery asks, her voice so mellow, so gentle, so calm.

“Jameson.”

His name sends a twinge of pain across my chest.

“Oh sweetie I’m sure it’s okay,” she says, “it’s normal for couples to fight.”

“Not like this,” I shake my head as if she can see me.

“Let me in and we’ll talk about it,” she says.

“You’re outside?” I ask my voice opting for the tone of a vulnerable child. She’d arrived faster than I thought she would.

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Door’s unlocked,” I murmur, the words kind of slurring into one another as I said them.

“I might get a speeding ticket tomorrow but it’ll be worth it,” the door opens, “besides Alisa will probably be able to get me out of it.”

“Mmmm,” I respond, feeling tired, each of my limbs weighing me down as if they were made of lead.

“Sweetie you need to stand up,” she tells me gently, I can feel her hand running up and down my arm rhythmically.

“I can’t,” I wheeze, everything was so heavy it ached.

“You can,” Avery replies, “I’m going to help you.”

“I’m tired,” I groan, my vision blurring as my eyelids fall shut.

“Then we can go to bed,” she says.

My lips quiver, “Avery?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs.

“I can’t stand up,” I whisper, the ghost of my voice vibrating against my throat, “I can’t do it.”

“Here then let’s sit up first,” she says.

Slowly she helps me into a sitting position. The world feels a little hazy. My head rolls backwards and thumps on the wall, it’s too heavy to hold up.

A flicker of pain spreads across the back of my head, the first real feeling in my state of numbness. She wraps her arms around me and I fall into her softly crying. I don’t know if it’s the pain in my head or the pain in my heart endorsing the tears but I don’t care.

She holds me tightly and tenderly as if she might never let go. I fear if she does I’ll fall apart and break into millions of pieces on the floor that can never be put back together again. My entire body shakes as my tears dampen my best friend’s shirt.

“Come on,” she says slowly, helping me to my feet after a long bout of silence.

I don’t want to move but my legs are willed too having obtained pins and needles from my static state. I don’t know how she managed to get me thinking about something other than my absence of feeling, allowing me to walk, but she did. We slump down on the sofa together and I curl up into her grip. I don’t want to let Avery go, not when my mind is retelling the story.

“What is your problem with me?” I scoff, putting the dishes into the cupboard not really meeting his eyes.

He’d been offish all through dinner, the one chance we actually had to spend time with each other and of course he picks that moment to be mad.

“My problem?” he says, with a bitter laugh, “you want to know my problem?”

“That is what I just said isn’t it?” I quip back, a bit snarky.

“Where are you half the time?” he asks, a degree of hurt in his voice that makes my heart twist.

I stare at him, dumbfounded as my brain registers the question, “what?”

“I never see you anymore,” Jameson tells me, “I mean any longer without you and I feel like I’m going to forget your face.”

“You do see me,” I reply curtly.

“No I don’t and you know it,” he snaps, a wild looking shining through his emerald eyes.

“Jamie I can’t help my schedule,” I sigh, putting my hands on my hips, “I didn’t choose this.”

“Maybe you didn’t but you’re not trying to do anything about it,” he accuses me.

“I am!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up into the air.

“No you’re not,” he shakes his head, “you’re not doing anything and it’s not fair.”

“Give it a month and-“

“No! I’m tired of waiting,” he says, desperation bleeding into his voice, “it’s always next month this and next week that, I’m sick and tired of waiting for us.” he runs a hand through his unruly hair, “isn’t love meant to come first?”

“I need a job,” I say in a low voice, “I need money Jameson.”

“I’ll give you money,” he groans a pleading look in his features.

“You don’t understand,” I yell, “I need to make this for myself.”

“Why?” he shouts, “I could give you anything you ever wanted!”

“I wanted to earn something, not just be given it,” I try to explain.

“You’ve earned everything you need to,” he presses on.

“Acting is what I love to do Jamie,” I tell him, the passion seeping into my voice, “these auditions are what I love to do.”

“I thought you loved me,” he shoots back.

“I do,” I exhale, “you know I do.”

Jameson shakes his head with a bitter and slightly pained sort of smile, “it feels like all you care about is this stupid work of yours.”

My eyes are squinted shut. I’m trapped in a memory I hate, held captor in a prison of my mind’s own making.

“Talk to me,” Avery whispers, “I’m here.”

“Jamie hates me, I barely see you, I overwork, I can’t sleep, all my auditions are going horribly and I’m just messing everything up-“ I ramble, my voice becoming thicker and thicker with emotion with each word.

“Hey,” she says softly, “just breathe.”

“I can’t, it’s like everything is coming at me all at once and I can’t handle it,” I choke, “I feel like I’m drowning Avery and every time I kick up to the surface another wave takes me out again. It’s this cycle that I can’t make my way out of.”

“Oh sweetheart,” she soothes, “just try for me and ignore all of it for a second and just look into my eyes.”

I meet her gentle hazel eyes, but they blur as tears fill my vision.

“Think about us,” she says, “right now. Me and you together, talking to each other. Focus on the present, stop thinking about the future and the past.”

My mind quiets a little, the raging storm of black clouds and loud sounds begins to dim down into a low hum. It’s still there but less. It’s better. A feel a spark of hope pulsate through my veins, previously darkened by hopelessness.

“Feeling a little better?” she tilts her head to the side.

“A little,” I nod hesitantly. I don’t want to speak too soon, there is still time for things too get much much worse.

“That’s good,” she smiles, “that’s really good.”

I exhale slowly, a little shakily. I lean further into Avery and her arms naturally wrap around me. I’m in the safety and warmth of her arms, her soft touch.

“I’ve got you,” she reminds me, “and when you’re ready, just talk and I’ll listen.”

“I don’t know where to start,” I laugh, buts it’s a forced laugh that I soon regret as if makes my throat ache.

“Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Jameson?” she suggests.

“You’re being so pathetic,” I snap, rolling my eyes.

“And you’re being selfish,” he exclaims.

I stop in my tracks and spin to face him, “for wanting to make something of myself for my life? I’m not you, Jameson. I didn’t get everything handed to me on a golden platter.”

Hurt flashes across his face.

“You think I haven’t worked for what I am today?” he barks, “you think I was just given all of this?”

“I’m just saying it’s not as simple as you think it is,” I groan, trying to walk away.

He stands in front of me, looking deep into my eyes, his tone softens, “I would move the sun and the stars just to spend time with you,” anger clouds his features, sending an overcast of fury to his eyes, “but I don’t see you trying to change anything to see me.”

“I have tried,” I tell him, “but it’s really difficult Jameson and I’m exhausted,”

“Exhausted of what? Of this, of our relationship,” he snaps, quick to jump to some ridiculous conclusion.

“Are you drunk?” I laugh.

“Why do you always think I’m drunk?” he shoots back, venom on his tongue.

“Because you’re spouting nonsense,” I reply, raising my voice a little.

“Of course, of course,” he rolls his eyes in his bout of sarcasm, “I’m the one who’s spouting nonsense.”

“What do you want me to do Jameson?” I ask, a lump growing in my throat, “drop everything for you?”

“Love comes with sacrifices,” he shrugs in response.

“So what I’m meant to sacrifice my entire passion?” I scoff.

He couldn’t be serious.

“No I’m just asking you to at least attempt to make more time,” he says, “I mean don’t you miss me like I miss you?”

“Of course I miss you,” I sigh.

“Then why don’t you show it?” he asks and I can see how much it wounds him, “you’re a closed book around me now. I used to be able to read you so well but now it’s like a blank page.”

“How would you know, I thought you didn’t see me anymore?” I bite back.

“We got into a fight,” I whisper, memories flooding back.

“A bad one?” Avery says carefully, like she’s treading on eggshells.

“He left,” I shrug.

“Asshole,” she mutters in my defence.

“No,” I shake my head, sitting back up to face her, “I was horrible, I would’ve left me.”

Beat.

“But he was horrible too,” I sniff.

“People say things they don’t mean in fights,” Avery points out, reaching to touch my arm.

“Or they say what they’re really thinking,” I blurt out, my mind is too consumed by my own thoughts to filter what I’m saying.

“More often than not it’s things they don’t mean, trust me,” she says, a tenderness in her voice that makes my heart squeeze, “besides Jameson can be a real impulsive idiot sometimes.”

“I love that about him,” I chuckle snivelling slightly, “but… it’s just that lately things haven’t been the same between us.”

“How so?”

“I’m leaving,” Jameson snaps. He’s finally had enough, he’s finally walking out on me. Of course. How could I possibly think someone could really love me as much as he said he did.

“Where are you going?” I ask, a sudden panic clawing at my chest overriding all of the built up anger and resentment.

“Why do you care?” he shrugs, grabbing his keys swiftly.

“Because I love you, you idiot!” I yell.

He stops and slowly turns around. Our eyes connect and for a split second deja vu washes over me and we’re meeting for the first time. I’m falling in love with his enchanting green eyes.

“Do you?” he asks, “really?”

“You’re being such an idiot right now,” I scrunch up my face as I shout, “I hope you know that.”

“If you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and get drunk and spout nonsense like I usually do,” he says, “according to you.”

“Oh come off of it,” I scream, a sudden surge of pure rage appearing.

“What?”

“Stop acting like mr high and mighty on your high horse,” I snarl, “it’s not fair.”

“You know what’s not fair, what you’re doing to me,” he barks, “I’m in limbo here, I don’t know whether you’re coming or going, the only time I see you is when I leave this house and you’re asleep.”

“Then wake me up,” I deadpan, arms folded.

“And make you even more exhausted?” he scoffs, “fat chance!”

“I’m giving you solutions and you’re just deterring them,” I exclaim.

“Because you know they’re stupid solutions,” he explodes.

“Well life is just keeping us apart. I’m always at auditions, he’s off with his brothers, then when I come home he’s asleep and I can’t sleep and then when I finally sleep, he wakes up,” I blubber, “we’re not getting enough time to be with each other and I’m trying so hard to make time, but I don’t have the energy because I’m so exhausted from everything else.”

“And that’s okay, that’s understandable,” she reassures me, “he’s probably just frustrated because he doesn’t get to spend time with you, that shows he loves you, right? Someone who didn’t wouldn’t experience these feelings.”

“I suppose,” I shrug, “but Avery you should have seen him. He was so mad when he walked out. It’s the biggest fight we’ve ever been in.”

“I’m sure things will get better, they always do,” she soothes, “I mean think about to your last fight, how long did that last?”

Barely a few hours, I recall. Jameson and I had never fought for long in our relationship. It was so hard to stay so mad at someone I loved so much.

“What if it’s different this time?” I murmur, imagining the worst.

“It’s not,” Avery says, “trust me.”

“He was just so mad,” I say, biting my lip, “I’ve never seen him look at me like that.”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Avery tells me gently, “whatever the outcome is, I’ve got you the whole way.”

“Thanks Ave,” I try to smile but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes, “he doesn’t get it, he thinks he does, but he doesn’t.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s getting so angry,” she suggests.

“I wish he would just let me explain,” I groan, putting my head in my hands.

“Why don’t you just communicate that to him?” she says.

“Because I have no time to!” I exclaim, not meaning to sound so defensive and snappy, “I just need to get through this month and then everything will be back to normal.”

“Sweetheart, I think you need to make some time to talk to him,” Avery says earnestly, “in this month. Explain this all to him, otherwise he’s going to keep building up all this anger for no reason and things are going to get worse.”

“Why is he so angry?” I ask in frustration, meaning for the question to be rhetorical.

“Because he doesn’t like not seeing you,” she replies, “he loves you.”

He love me. He loves me. He loves me. The words echo around my head relentlessly.

“I’m stupid,” I say, letting my head hit Avery’s shoulder.

“You’re not stupid,” she replies, putting her arm around me and rubbing small circles on my shoulder with her thumb.

“He hates me,” I mumble into her.

She shakes her head, “he doesn’t hate you.”

“It’s always the same with you, you always want more-“

“I want to see you,” Jameson yells, “is that so much to ask?”

“I will never be enough, you can’t just take me for who I am, what I am, what I need,” I shout back.

“What about what I need?” he questions, “I need to see you and it’s driving me crazy when we’re apart.”

“You need to find a coping mechanism then,” I reply, snarky and spiteful.

He looks at me with a look I’ve never seen in his eyes before. Pure unadulterated hatred. Like he wants me to burn on a thousand spikes after a session of torture.

“Fuck you,” he spits at me, his face so close to mine I can feel his anger.

“Piss off,” I hiss back.

“I will thank you very much,” he replies, swinging the door open.

“And don’t come home,” I snap, “I don’t want to see your face.”

“It’s not like you’ll notice, you don’t see my face anyway,” he calls, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What if this time he doesn’t come back,” I murmur, frightening myself more and more it’s each drastic thought that pops into my head.

“He will come back,” she soothes, continuing to rubbing small circles on my arm, “he always comes back to you.”

She has a point. Jameson always came back, he just needs time to cool off. I hope…

“You’re stronger than you think,” she whispers in my ear, like she can hear the doubts screaming in my brain.

“I don’t feel it,” I grumble.

“That’s what makes you even stronger,” Avery says.

“I’m crying over a boy,” I deadpan.

“Who hasn’t been there?” she smiles, wiping my tears away, “now come on, I’ll get the ice cream tubs, you grab the endless flow of blankets and pillows and we’ll have a movie night.”

I crack a small smile and nod as we stand up. She begins to walk while my legs struggle to follow.

“Avery,” I say, taking a small step forwards.

She spins around with a bright smile, “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I exhale, “so much.”

sorry there haven’t been a lot updates lately I’ve been super busy 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[starsreminisce]

LucienWeek2024 Day Three Daylight

Clarity

Word Count: 5000 Rating: T @lucienweekofficial

Summary:

It had been a century since Lucien Vanserra went into exile for the uprising he caused against his father and eldest brother. Now, it's his brother's turn as he extends an invitation to the Day Court Equinox Ball, where his mate, whom he has not seen while in exile, will be.

Read on AO3

It had been a century since Lucien the Usurper launched his coup against High Lord Beron, ending centuries of tyranny.

When the magic of the land bypassed Lucien to crown his older brother, Eris, as the new High Lord, revolts began to stir. Many claimed Eris would be no different from Beron, that the change was only in name. The return of the Seventh Son from exile was supposed to breathe in new life, but doubt crept within their citizens.

Determined to take the seat of power himself, True Lord Lucien challenged his brother to a Blood Duel. Eris won, but in the final moment, chose to show mercy. Instead of killing Lucien the Betrayer, he banished him—to never set foot on Prythian unless he deems it so.

Yet, as the sons of Orla were taught, truth and lies always intertwined.

The coup had taken place, but it was only half-executed. Eris and Rhys were still in the midst of planning how Rhys would fulfill his end of the bargain when Lucien winnowed in, intending to resign. Both older brothers seized the unexpected opportunity. The Blood Duel? Staged. It was no different from the countless duels their father had forced them into as boys.

As for the exile? It was nothing more than a small patch of land—situated between the Autumn, Summer, and Spring Courts—gifted to Lucien by Eris as a token of reward.

Lucien would be remembered in history as the first fae to kill a High Lord and not claim a title. But in truth, he never sought the Lordship for himself. Never wanted it to begin with. Yet none of that mattered to him when he looked back on that day.

No, for Lucien, that day was burned into his memory for an entirely different reason: the day his mate rejected him.

It had been a month since he’d seen her in the streets of Velaris. What he witnessed had gnawed at him, day after day, until the need for answers became unbearable. When he finally confronted her, demanded the truth, she could not speak. Her face turned pale, almost green, as she stood there in silence.

“Lady,” he had said, his voice edged with exhaustion and hurt. “Just… reject it. If you care for me at all, just say it.”

Perhaps he had hoped she would argue, would deny what he had seen, or offer some explanation that might soften the blow. But instead, she closed her eyes. Silent tears traced down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook with the weight of her decision.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if seeking his permission. “Okay.”

Lucien had been angry before, but this was something different—something darker, older, and deadlier taking root within him. Heat rose in him at the thought of Elain rejecting their bond, the connection that had haunted him, that he had hoped would someday mean something. In the back of his mind, a warning flared—he worried, even now, about what he might become if he let this anger consume him.

“A bargain,” he forced himself to say, fighting to keep his voice steady. “You do not see me. You do not seek me. You do not ask about me. I will extend the same to you.”

“Lucien,” she murmured, her tone turning soft, almost conciliatory. “I am still a seer.”

He scoffed. “You haven’t had a vision since Hybern.”

“I cannot accept that bargain,” Elain said, her gaze meeting his, defiant even through her tears. “If you appear in my vision and I can’t see you…”

He stared at her, jaw clenched. “Fine. Unless you receive a vision that specifically involves me, you will have no reason to reach out.”

She chewed her lip, considering, then nodded. “I accept.”

A faint mark appeared on the backs of their hands, sealing the bargain—a mocking reminder that even rejected bonds could leave scars.

With nothing left to say, Lucien turned and left, intent on finding Rhysand to hand in his resignation. His thoughts spiraled between anger and heartbreak, but when he entered the room, he was surprised to find Eris there, pressing Rhys about what he intended to do about the bargain.

The tension in the room spiked as Lucien entered, his bloodlust evident in the fury radiating off him. Both males turned to him, their expressions sharpening.

“I want to resign as emissary for the Night Court,” Lucien said, his voice steady but laced with rage.

Rhys’s shadows flickered, a claw scraping gently at the edge of Lucien’s mind. Lucien didn’t resist, allowing his High Lord to peer into his thoughts, letting him see exactly what he and Elain had done. Rhys’s eyes widened, then narrowed, darkening with understanding.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Rhys purred, a deadly edge to his tone. “Eris has a pesky Beron problem.”

Eris’s expression remained impassive, but there was a glint of something dangerous in his gaze.

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “Give me an opening—and make sure she rejects it.”

“I’ll see to it that she rejects it tonight,” Rhysand promised, his tone laced with deadly intent toward the one who had driven Elain to reject their bond. Lucien met his High Lord’s gaze, understanding the fury there, even as his own heart shattered.

They had mere hours to coordinate. And when the night descended, they would be ready.

The tears they thought he shed that night had been for his father. But they weren’t. They were for Elain.

When the rejection came, it struck like a final, devastating blow. And in the hollow ache left behind, Lucien unleashed everything he’d held back, pouring his heartbreak and fury into a blazing assault upon his father and the Autumn Court. His power tore through the land, searing everything in its path.

That night, as word spread of the Seventh Son’s retribution—of the fire and blood he unleashed upon his father’s court—Lucien’s name became etched into history. No longer remembered as a loyal emissary, but as an unstoppable force of vengeance, a reckoning that could not be tamed.

—

The days were quiet and peaceful, just as Lucien had once hoped. He lived simply now, even in the absence of Jesminda by his side. He closed his eyes, clinging to her name as if it were a lifeline, though her face had slowly eroded from his memory since the bond with Elain had snapped. No, that bond—fragile as it was—remained a flickering flame, one that refused to die. Sometimes, he could feel Elain’s euphoria, especially in the beginning, when she’d chosen a relationship over their bond. And afterward, the wrenching heartache when that relationship ended.

He didn’t know the details, and perhaps it was better that way. He could pretend not to care, but there were moments—when her sadness pressed into him, or her loneliness crept in—that he was tempted to check on her. Instead, he buried himself in his role as laird over the tiny patch of land Eris had given him.

Gone were the days of political maneuvering, double-crossing, and scheming. He might have once thrived in that world, but now, he found he did not miss it. In truth, everything he had ever wanted was here.

Lucien had taken a hands-on approach to his land—helping with farming, overseeing repairs, settling disputes among his tenants. They were glamoured to forget who he was the moment they stepped beyond the borders. He still trained with weapons, but it felt different now—calmer, without the weight of constant conflict.

Eris and Rhys had upheld their end of the bargain for helping to end Beron’s reign, leaving Lucien in his quiet exile.

Not even a year after Beron’s death, his mother, Orla, had shocked everyone by celebrating her mating ceremony with Helion. Lucien had been surprised, to say the least, considering Helion’s deep-seated hatred for Beron—and, by extension, for Lucien himself. The Mother indeed had a sense of humor.

But Lucien didn’t attend the ceremony.

Nor did he attend the birth of his two half-brothers, Kieran and Roshan. Still, he was happy for his mother, relieved that she no longer mourned the two sons he had caused her to lose.

Those who knew the truth of the uprising—Feyre, Cassian, Rhys—visited him occasionally, but the visits became shorter and less frequent as time passed. Lucien had stopped accepting their invitations to visit the Night Court, and he wasn’t sure what else there was to say between them anymore.

As for Vassa and Jurian, they were long gone, their children’s children now ruling in their place.

The one puzzle Lucien couldn’t solve was why his heir markers remained so prevalent. He had hoped they would vanish after he forfeited his claim to any court, but instead, they seemed to grow stronger over time. In the end, he found a glamour to hide them almost permanently, to the point where he almost forgot they existed.

He was content. Or at least, as content as someone with a rejected bond could be.

Until he saw the smokehounds.

The sleek, lean dog-like creatures lingered near his house one evening as Lucien returned from the fields. There was no mistaking who owns them—Eris. Lucien gritted his teeth but played the host regardless, inviting his brother to dine with his tenants, who gawked that the benevolent High Lord was joining them. The evening stretched on, filled with the bard’s music and the low hum of conversation, until the candles burned low and the shadows thickened. Finally, Eris turned to him with a smile, his eyes gleaming with something Lucien couldn’t quite read.

“The Day Court is hosting the Equinox Ball,” Eris announced, his tone casual, almost too casual. “Mother would like you to attend.”

Lucien raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Not sure I can still be considered ‘exiled’ if I show up at a ball. I’m supposed to be on the continent, remember?”

Eris waved a dismissive hand. “Helion can grant you access as his guest—or, if it’s easier, I could always revoke your exile.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes, watching his brother closely. A century had passed since he had last set foot in any court, but even after all that time, he could still sense when Eris was hiding something.

Eris caught the look and sighed. “You left the courts. There isn’t anything I can tell you that matters anymore.”

“Then why is it so important that I’m there?” Lucien asked, his voice sharp. “I see Mother often enough, and quite frankly, the sight of her with Helion is... disturbing.”

He shuddered for emphasis, but Eris merely smirked.

“It’s nice, seeing Mother finally in love,” Eris replied, his voice softening, eyes distant, as if lost in some wistful memory.

Lucien held his tongue. Of course Eris would remember their mother’s brighter days—when she was full of light and laughter. Lucien, though, had only seen her at her lowest: withdrawn, broken. His only memories were the late nights when she would creep into his room, hugging him tightly, her tears soaking his forehead after days of ignoring him.

“I suppose,” Lucien finally muttered, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

A silence stretched between them. Finally, Eris rose from his seat and reached into his coat. He pulled out a small envelope, sealed with the Day Court’s bright insignia, and extended it to Lucien.

Lucien hesitated before reaching for the invitation, his fingers brushing against the crisp paper. But the moment he touched it, a subtle shift rippled through him—a familiar, long-forgotten sensation. His eyes darted to the back of his hand, and his heart skipped a beat.

The mark. The faint mark that had once bound him to Elain, a constant reminder of their rejected bond and the bargain they had made—gone.

The realization hit him like a wave. The bargain had ended.

Elain could now speak to him.

For the first time in decades, Lucien felt something stir deep inside him, something restless and unresolved. He glanced up at Eris, who wore the same unreadable smile, as if he had known this would happen all along.

“I’ll think about it,” Lucien said quietly, his voice steady, though his mind was anything but.

—

Even though Lucien arrived fashionably late as he could, he could still feel the weight of their stares and the hushed whispers that trailed behind him. The Usurper. The High Lord Killer. The labels clung to him, but none of it compared to the sharp jolt in his chest when his gaze swept across the grand ballroom. Beneath the twinkling fae lanterns and a ceiling draped in purple wisteria, amidst the glittering partygoers in their silks and brocades, he spotted her instantly.

Elain, standing with her sisters.

She always looked radiant in amethyst. Tonight, the rhinestone-heavy bodice of her gown sparkled under the warm glow of the lanterns. The sweetheart neckline framed her delicate collarbones, and the dress cinched tightly at her waist before cascading into an elegant A-line. Her hair was pinned up, dotted with pearls that glistened like stars.

He hadn’t seen her in a century, he realized. The last time they spoke, she had cried then.

But now—she was smiling, a breathtaking sight that twisted in his chest. Lucien forced himself to turn away, not wanting the familiar ache of longing to show on his face. He hadn’t come here to be reminded of what he could never have. He only meant to make an appearance, speak to his mother, have two drinks and leave. Already, the walls of the ballroom felt too close, the urge to disappear back to his quiet life called to him.

He stalked towards his mother and Helion, weaving his way through the crowd. The two of them were too preoccupied with their smoldering looks to notice him at first. Lucien cleared his throat. Helion still regarded him with that cool, aloof expression. 

Don’t worry, daddy, Lucien thought bitterly, I’m not here to kill you.

But his mother, Orla, lit up when she saw him, immediately pulling him into a doting embrace, her lips pressing against his cheeks.

“Darling,” she cooed, her tone warm and affectionate. “You made it! Are you planning to stay here for the night?”

“No, Mother,” Lucien replied. “I wish I could stay, but I’ve got repairs to handle back in my land. The last storm knocked out half the fence, and if I don’t fix it soon, the livestock will be running wild.”

Orla pouted. “But we so rarely get to see you.”

Helion’s voice cut in, sharp and commanding, exactly like Rhys when someone displeased Feyre. “Your mother would like you to stay.”

Lucien met Helion’s gaze evenly, resisting the urge to snap back. A retort burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it, forcing his face into a sarcastic smile. “We’ll see.”

Helion mimicked his smile, but colder. “See to it.”

Lucien, not one to let the jab pass, raised an eyebrow and asked, “Has Kieran or Roshan shown any heir markers yet?”

The question landed as intended. Helion gave a curt response. “No.”

Lucien’s smirk widened. The insult was subtle but sharp—a reminder that, despite Helion’s status, the magic of their court had not deemed his children worthy to lead. But it was Orla who delivered the next blow.

“Elain wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” Orla remarked offhandedly, as though she were discussing the weather. “She’s been such a wonderful courtier for the Day Court.”

Lucien’s smile dropped, his face stiffening into a frown. “Why.”

“She needed some time away from the Night Court after… well, after everything,” Orla explained, her gaze flitting around the room. “Poor thing. Rhysand and Feyre thought a change of scenery might do her good, so I offered to take her in.”

Lucien’s lips pressed into a tight line. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Elain being so close to his family in the decades he had been apart. He tried to remind himself that his mother had gained something of a daughter after losing another son. Still, the idea of Elain sharing this space with them—of her integrating so seamlessly into the Day Court—prickled at him.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” Lucien replied reluctantly, the urge to find something to relieve him of this conversation.

He turned away, eager to put distance between himself and the interaction. But as he moved through the crowd, he could feel the bond tugging. He glanced over his shoulder, and his heart stopped when his eyes met Elain again.

Her gaze locked onto his, wide and unblinking, as if she’d been watching him. The lively chatter around them muted, the music fading into the background. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Something unreadable flickered in her countenance—surprise, guilt, or perhaps something more.

Lucien’s chest tightened. He couldn’t tell if she’d been waiting for him to notice, or if she, too, was startled by their shared glance. But the weight of it settled deep, cutting through the air between them like a taut string waiting to snap.

He broke the spell and strode toward the bar, ordering the specialty without much thought, the thrum of tension still lingering in his veins. His eyes roamed the room as he waited, scanning what had changed since he’d left. The Night Court kept to their tight-knit circle, as usual, but now with two new females among them. He could feel their gazes shift to him.

They’ll find me eventually, he mused, if I decide to stay long.

Something else caught his attention this time. Each member of the circle seemed tethered by a golden thread—mating bonds, he realized. This time, his attention was drawn to something else. The detail made him furrow his brows, leaving him to ponder how and when it happened.

Lucien’s jaw clenched, and his gaze slid to Elain. She was across the room, a vision as she floated through the courtiers, laughing with Nuan of all people, as if she’d known her her entire life. She sparked the damned longing within him, but before he could get sucked into that vortex—

A shift in the air.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. His mechanical eye whirred, the lens automatically adjusting, recalibrating as it scanned the room for danger. Everything appeared normal. No one else seemed to notice. Yet Lucien knew better —he felt it, deep in his gut from instincts honed from hunting.

He glanced up.

His eye zeroed in on the ceiling. Something off. His eye broke through the marble surface, seeing beyond it—into something more sinister.

And then the ceiling gave way.

A thunderous crack, huge pieces of stone plummeting toward the floor, but by the time they began to fall, Lucien had already moved. His body reacted before his mind could, and in the course of a moment, he was across the room. His arms wrapped tightly around Elain, pulling her tightly against his chest. His eyes screwed shut in protection against the dust and debris.

“Lucien,” Elain said, her soft voice close that it tickled his ear.

He opened his eyes—and blinked in disbelief. Golden light surrounded them, a shimmering sphere holding the falling debris at bay. A shield of daylight, radiant and warm, encased them in safety. His glamour dissolved, his skin now glowing with a pearlescent bronze sheen, and molten red hair cascaded over his shoulders. Inside him, a core of heat burned brighter, brighter than it had ever felt before, protecting the one thing that was ever his.

“Are you alright?” he asked, still holding her close.

Elain nodded, but her wide eyes remained fixed on him, her breath catching as she took in the soft glow of the golden light that surrounded them.

“An attack!” someone shouted, but Lucien’s focus stayed locked on the glowing shield. Through the sphere, he saw them—thousands of bird-like shadows, clawing at the edges, desperate to break through.

He didn’t want to let Elain go. His instincts screamed that it wasn’t safe. But the way she held him back—the way her eyes searched his face as if seeing him for the first time—made him hesitate. She wasn’t afraid of him. Her gaze was filled with wonder.

The shield expanded, stretching outward with Lucien’s will until it touched the crumbling ceiling. And then, with a soft pop, the bubble dissolved, transforming into tiny golden flames that licked through the air, disintegrating the debris and creatures in an instant as golden dust fell.

Elain whispered. “So it is you.”

“What?” Lucien asked, still disoriented.

“You are the Day Court heir.”

Lucien’s stomach churned as reality crashed down around him. His heart pounded in his chest, louder than the stunned silence that had settled over the ballroom. He tore his gaze from Elain and looked around.

The entire room had frozen. Every fae in attendance—guests, courtiers, High Lords and their partners alike—stared at him.

At him.

No. His mind raced, grasping at something, anything, to make sense of this. This couldn’t be happening.

Eris was the heir. Lucien was of Autumn Court. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the Day Court heir. Because if he was, that would mean…

His breath hitched. That would mean Beron wasn’t his father.

Before Lucien could fully process the thought, Helion stepped forward, his eyes wide with shock and begrudging recognition.

“The Day Court heir has been found,” Helion’s voice boomed with command. His gaze flicked between Orla and Lucien. “Lucien Vanserra is the Day Court heir.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but Lucien barely heard it. His heart stuttered. His world tilted. Oh, fuck.

Helion had just legitimized him.

The weight of what that meant pressed down on him, suffocating. Panic clawed at his chest, each new realization crashing into him. The responsibilities. The title. The Court. The political alliances he’d left behind. His place beside Helion—no, at the head of the Day Court.

And Elain.

The closeness to her that would come with this new role. The proximity he could no longer ignore, no matter how hard he had tried.

His mind spiraled, and in that moment of pure panic, he did the dumbest thing possible.

He released Elain and spun around, only to find himself trapped—shimmering wards pulsed around him, thrumming with Helion’s magic, a cage of blazing power.

A rush of heat exploded from him, brilliant and blinding, tearing through the wards and spells encasing the room. It was Helion’s power, but fiercer, sharper, channeled with raw, unrestrained force through Lucien. And then, before anyone could react, he winnowed, disappearing in a blaze of light and heat.

But when he landed—back on the edge of his quiet farm—something was wrong.

He felt her before he saw her, the warmth of her body pressed against his back. Her arms clung tightly around his waist, her breath shallow between his shoulder blades.

She hadn’t let go.

Lucien’s heart stuttered as truth set in. He had let her go. He’d tried to leave her behind. But she—she hadn’t released him. She had chosen to hold on, even as his world fell apart around them.

He stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing to process what had just happened. The rows of crops lay stretched out beneath the moonlit sky, his patch of land quiet and serene—a meager fraction to the truth he had just uncovered about his birthright.

“Lady…” he whispered hoarsely, half-questioning, half-apologizing.

Slowly, she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “You are very hard to find,” she whispered, her grip still firm. “Had to find a way to get you to come.”

His throat constricted as he stared at her, the weight of her words-and all those words implied-settling between them like a loaded question.

He had winnowed to escape.

Yet she had held on.

—

“So you knew?” Lucien’s voice emerged sharper than he intended.

He wasn’t used to his patience being tested like this—especially not by her. Yet here she was, wandering around his property, deliberately ignoring his pointed offers to take her back. It annoyed him. He followed her as she headed toward the house, her gaze wandering over everything, taking in small details of the life he’d built in exile.

She wheeled abruptly on him, her wrist flicking so the back of her hand flashed in his direction. “I was wondering when you’d finally ask around about this.”

Lucien pressed his tongue against his cheek. He refused to rise to the bait.

“You really didn’t notice,” Elain sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lucien didn’t say a word, but his silence spoke volumes. Of course, he had noticed—the mark gone—when the invitation had arrived… a day or two ago.…

“So much has passed in a hundred years,” Elain whispered, her arms wrapping tightly around herself.

It was then that he felt it: their bond flickered. No longer as dull, not as hushed as it had been for so long. His heart was hammering in his chest, and she turned pink as her eyes darted away from him.

It was too much—too much to process all at once, with everything else hanging over his head. The responsibilities of an heir weighed upon him like a boulder, and the events of the night were catching up, threatening to crush him.

“I’m going to bed,” Lucien said shortly, the tone a full stop. “If you wish to stay, there’s a spare bedroom upstairs on the left. If not, you’ll find sheets on my desk to send a message. Good night.”

He turned on his heel, ready to leave her standing there, but her voice stopped him cold.

“We ruled the Day Court.”

Lucien froze. Slowly, he turned back to face her. “We?”

Elain shut her eyes a moment, as though steeling herself. When she opened them again, her voice was firm, but low. “You and me. That was the vision.”

Lucien’s snort was harsh, filled with skepticism. “What, as separate rulers or—”

“No.” Her voice cut him off, sharper now, her patience visibly thinning. “Not separate. And that doesn’t explain…” She hesitated, her cheeks flushing as she looked away, clearly struggling to find the right words.

“Explain what, lady?” he demanded, his tone clipped, irritation simmering beneath the surface.

She pressed her lips together, her eyes flicking away, looking both frustrated and mortified. Lucien raised an eyebrow, watching her struggle, his own annoyance flaring. He’d had enough of vague half-answers and the way she seemed to dance around the truth.

She took a breath, forcing herself to continue. “It doesn’t explain… the amount of sex we had in that vision. Or the children… who looked like you and me.”

Lucien stilled, his eyes blinking as the meaning of her words registered. He stared, and then a laugh escaped him—deep and disbelieving. He snorted, his head shaking, as laughter bubbled up from his chest.

But Elain wasn’t laughing. She didn’t look at him, her face red as her lips pursed into a thin line. And that was when it hit him—she wasn’t joking.

“You rejected it, remember?” His tone was bitter and confused. “You rejected the bond, my lady.”

There was a flash of anger in Elain’s eyes, no longer the timid female he remembered. She scowled at him as she shot back, “As Orla did with Helion when you were born.”

Lucien blinked, momentarily stunned by the comparison. Elain stood taller, her shoulders squared, no longer shrinking under his gaze. The fierceness in Elain’s eyes caught him off guard—a spark of shock mixed with something raw, something he couldn’t quite grasp.

It reminded him, just for a moment, of Jesminda—alive and bright in her defiance, a fading memory that still lingered painfully close to the surface.

His mother. Mated to Helion. Long before Lucien killed Beron.

Elain. Looking like Jesminda. Long after she was gone.

He took a steadying breath, forcing himself to set those revelations aside—things to confront later, with the people who held the answers. But what did any of that mean for him and Elain?

“So, what?” Lucien demanded, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. “You had a vision, and that’s why you’re here now? That’s what changed your mind about giving this—” he gestured between them, “—a shot?”

“No,” Elain said softly, the sharpness yielding to something much softer as she looked down, exhaling heavily. “No. The vision happened after.”

“After what?” he pressed hotly.

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, as if trying to shield herself from his words, her gaze dropping to the ground. It was her posture—the way she seemed to shrink into herself—that cut through his frustration, softening his resolve. And then the weight of her silence settled between them like a chasm.

Unable to hold back, he did the unthinkable: he took a step closer, closing the distance until there was barely any space left between them.

“After what?” he coaxed gently, his voice low, trying to draw her out.

Elain’s eyes flickered up, meeting his. Her face was raw, unguarded, and she swallowed hard before she spoke. “After I fell in love with the Day Court.” Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a vulnerability he hadn’t expected. “Until I realized… how much I saw you in it.”

Lucien stared, the words clawing through the walls he’d built around his heart. For a very long moment, he said nothing. There was nothing to say. The truth hovered between them, weak and throbbing.

And for the first time in a hundred years, he couldn’t look away from the bond between them—the hum of it, a pulse stronger than it had ever been.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Evermore

This is based on the TikTok I watched. I am feeling super angst lately, so I hope you enjoy it! The reader is in love with Lucifer; however, Lucifer is in love with Lilith and doesn't see the reader. The song is Evermore from Live Action Beauty and the Beast. I recommend playing it in the background, as the song applies to Lucifer and the reader in their respective feelings.

Lucifer was a breathtaking creature, a being of unmatched beauty that defied all comparison. He embodied glory and grace, sin and desire, love and compassion. Perfection radiated from him, and the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt it—a magnetic pull that drew you into his enchanting world.

It didn’t take long for a friendship to blossom between you and the enigmatic king of ducks. Both of you shared a whimsical spirit and an eccentric approach to life, reveling in laughter and the absurdity of existence. You were mirror images of one another, two souls destined to intertwine. Yet, as the seasons turned, you found yourself in a painful limbo, watching the years slip by without a trace of Lilith.

You understood the bond between Lucifer and Lilith—strong and unbreakable. He loved her with a devotion that transcended mere affection, needing no one to fill the void she left behind. She was his eternal flame, and no one else could ever ignite his heart the way she did.

This knowledge tormented you, for your love for him burned fiercely, a flame that flickered in the shadows of his unwavering devotion to another. You resented Lilith, not out of malice, but because she had vanished, leaving Lucifer to languish in the castle, waiting for a phantom who may never return.

How you longed to be the one who filled his heart. How desperately you wished to occupy the space that Lilith once held. He was so captivated by a woman so far beyond his reach that he failed to see the one who stood before him—adoring him, aching for his affection.

For six agonizing years, you endured this silent suffering, watching as Lucifer gradually descended into despair, each passing day serving as a reminder of her absence. You observed him sitting before her portrait, eyes filled with longing, clinging to the hope that she would walk through the castle doors and into his arms once more.

Each year felt like a dagger to your heart, another opportunity lost to be seen, to be cherished. It was almost comical how you both mirrored each other—not just in your personalities but in the fierce yearning to love someone who was unreachable.

Your love for him mirrored his for Lilith, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. Deep down, you knew he would never leave your side; you were his best friend, a cherished companion. But that was all you would ever be—an echo of the love he reserved for another.

You were two fools, yearning for an everafter that would never come. Two souls grasping for a light that flickered tantalizingly in the vast darkness of loneliness, always out of reach.

Lucifer was indeed a great friend—the best, in fact—but how long could you endure this torment? How could you tell this broken man that your heart was fracturing under the weight of unrequited love? 

You could wait for eternity, hoping that Lilith would never return to reclaim him, but what good would it do if each year of her absence found you sitting beside him, watching as he wept for her? You could don disguises, try to morph into the vision of her that he so adored, but it would never satisfy the yearning to be loved as your true self.

After six grueling years of waiting, of longing for him to see you—to notice you, to desire you—you realized that he would always be entranced by Lilith. As you stole a glance away from him, you envisioned a life filled with love and acceptance, a life that felt perpetually just out of reach. Could you ever love someone who wasn’t Lucifer?

Tormented by the idea of leaving him behind, a painful clarity emerged. Perhaps that’s what you had to do. So, with a heavy heart, you took a step away from the man who had captured your soul yet remained oblivious to your feelings. You knew the door would always be open for him; he would always have a place in your heart.

As you walked out onto the fiery streets of Hell, tears streamed down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the love you had nurtured in silence. You realized that you would not have the man for whom you had waited so long. He would remain in that castle, forever hoping for Lilith’s return, locked in a longing that rivaled your own.

You knew he was your forever in a way, but perhaps he was meant to be your forever in unrequited love, and somehow, that would have to be enough for Evermore.