#i need my sparkling water lord let me have this

[skyrigel]

“Sweet nothing”

Pairing: Benjicot “davos” blackwood x fem!reader

Benji masterlist

Between war, blood and chaos, your husband founds himself running home to your sweet nothing.

Nsfw, Benji being a tease but absolutely feral for you, bath chamber hinted sex, kissing and biting, nudtidy, groping, consent is sexy, domesticated!ben, fancast! Benji.

“ Darling, did you miss me ? ” You opened your eyes to find your lord husband strolling in your bath chambers.

All the servants were walking out with their head bowed down and knowing closed smiles, Benji grinned when he caught your eye, before he trailed his gaze down at your naked body, drinking you in with a smug tug of his lips, rubbing his jaw.

“ I missed you.” you breathed, feeling your heart ache to touch him, to hold him, to breathe him in.

You were beginning to get out of water when Ben shaked his head, mouthing a 'love' before stripping off his clothes, one by one.

He was being torturous with the pace, he knew well how driven you were, your mouth agape as you saw him, so so long. He tossed his tunic, because teasing you was one of his greatest amusement, but then again, he was dying to be in your embrace and let everything mute in the background, and regardless to say how pretty you looked, like those sirens they talked about, luring him and he would, he would crawl and beg and plead and surrender, for you he was insane.

“ My lord.” you whispered, giving him that, ‘I'll never sleep with you again’ look and it only took a moment before he was stepping down in the bath, beaming.

His naked body disappearing in the mist of water, you followed his movements, his smile climbing to a grin as he reached you, taking your hand and pressing it to his chest. Beneath your palm his heart was beating for you, loud and rhythmic.

“ You have no idea how much I missed you.” you pressed a soft kiss on his chest, just near a bluish bruised wound. You hoped they were all dead, all of them who hurt him.

“ you can always give me a idea, don't you think my lady.” He pouted, sensing your worry as he lifted you chin with his finger tip, eyes sparkling with mischief, you pushed forward your hands to cup his face, needless to say about him. He was everywhere, cupping your ass cheeks to kneading your breast, pulling your waist as he placed sweet kisses all over, like a starved man and he was, a very starved man for your love, your affection, your body and all of your sweet nothings.

“ I missed this.” he bited at the crook your neck, you arched back, allowing more access.

“ And ? ” you asked because Benji liked that, liked knowing everything that swirled in your mind, to know what you thought about everything and nothing.

You couldn't see him as he was sliding down your body, open mouthed kisses all over your skin while you tugged at his soft hair, but you knew how stupidly he would have smiled.

“ And this.” he bumped his nose to your navel, looking up to meet your gaze.

“ Tell me more.” you whined, dropping your head back, Benji wrapped your legs around his waist, taking you out of the water as he laid you on the floor, climbing over you.

“ More ? ” He smiled, leaning to kiss your nose tip, then claiming your in hard embrace and clatter of souls, his lips soft and warm and sweet.

You were flushed under him, you didn't dare look between him and you because the hard length that pressed against your thigh was enough proof of how madly you drived him crazy.

Benji watched as your breath hiccuped in your throat, watching your heart swell and eyes dazed with lust, like blown back.

“say it my sweet love.” He was propped on his elbows on either side of your head, his own voice shaky, he wanted nothing less to dive inside you, take you all and leave nothing, to devour and to worship you. But he needed you to say it first. “c'mon sweetheart” He nuzzled his nose at the side of your neck, breathing in your scent, humming along.

“ yes...Ben.” you bited your lower lip as his shaft was leaking with pre cum, weakening your legs and the pressure in your pit grew, dazing your senses.

“ huh.” Ben perked up, relaxing in a smirk, pecking down your jaw as he raised one eyebrow, like he didn't listen. Bastard.

“ T-take me.” you demanded and pleaded and that was all he needed to hear, before his lips parted in a gasp, He's bloody going to moan every sweet nothing out of you. Oh, how sweet.

[howcouldmuffin]

First Choice III

[ Chapter 3 : The Burden of Promises ]

You resolved to start fresh, determined to leave the past behind. Meanwhile, his actions only deepened your confusion, leaving you puzzled about his intentions and why he couldn’t let you move on.

PAIRING : Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : Kiss, Targaryen Incest, Non-canon

AN : It’s giving me so many emotions right now. The scene I’ve envisioned in my head is making me internally scream with excitement. I hope you enjoy this piece of writing.

CONTENTS : Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

“Why am I here?” you questioned yourself while at the celebration for Corlys Velaryon’s naming day. You barely knew anyone present. You were invited to the event with Jacaerys, who was now dancing with your cousin. Lucerys was talking with Corlys, and you felt out of place among the shipbuilders who eyed you with a somewhat menacing look.

Once you felt you weren’t being watched, you discreetly slipped away from the celebration. You had heard a lot about this place, High Tide, a castle built by Corlys. You decided to explore a bit, enjoying a sip from the drink you had brought from the party.

The castle had a distinctive scent, characteristic of its coastal location. It was quite damp and musty, but the people had been welcoming. After wandering for a while, you thought it might be time to return to the great hall.

Opting for the quieter balcony walkway, you enjoyed the romantic view of the sea at night. The moonlight reflecting off the water created a diamond-like sparkle. As you noticed a couple ahead, you decided to let them pass before continuing.

However, you encountered your betrothed and Baela, who were very close to each other. It was impolite to spy, but they were clearly visible despite the darkness. The prince leaned in close to her, and you were shocked. The drink in your hand fell, causing them to separate and turn towards you. Ignoring the spilled drink, you hurried back to your room.

Unfamiliar with the layout but still finding your way with accuracy, you rushed to your room, the prince following and pleading for you to stop. You ignored him, entered your room, and locked the door. You collapsed on the floor and cried, despite his pleas to open the door and explain. Eventually, the knocking stopped. You lay on your bed, exhausted from crying and unsure of what to do next.

You spent the entire night crying and avoided leaving your room due to swollen eyes. You told the maid that you were unwell and requested breakfast in your room. According to the schedule, you were to leave today, which you planned to do after bidding farewell to Lord Corlys. You applied a cold compress to your eyes, which improved slightly by morning. Dressed and ready, you went to the great hall to say your goodbyes. Jacaerys watched you, and for the first time, you saw him separate from Baela. You chose to ignore it and planned to address everything properly upon returning to Red Keep.

“How was Driftmark, Your Highness?” Vidah asked as you rushed into her embrace. She held you tightly, sensing your distress.

“It was awful, Vidah.” you sobbed. “So very awful.”

“I understand, Your Highness.” she said soothingly, guiding you to sit on the bed. “Please, tell me what happened.”

“He… he almost kissed Baela,” you said, your voice shaking with emotion. “I don’t know what to do. I know he doesn’t love me, but I can’t seem to get over it.” You buried your face in her lap, the tears flowing freely.

“We can’t control our feelings.” she said gently, stroking your hair. “Sometimes, the best thing is to let things unfold as they will.”

“I’m thinking of ending the engagement or at least letting him be with someone he truly cares about while we’re married.” you said, lifting your tear-streaked face to look at her. “I need to find someone I truly love, someone who makes me feel the way he never could.”

“Have you truly made up your mind, Your Highness?” Vidah asked, carefully wiping away your tears. “Then be resolute and act on it.”

“I just can’t bear to see him right now, or for some time.”

“Promise me, Your Highness, that you’ll only take a brief respite and not avoid the problem forever.”

“Yes.” you agreed, your voice firm despite the lingering sadness. “I promise.”

Every practice, you were absent. Every sword duel, you stayed away. Whenever Jacaerys was around, you were nowhere to be seen. You went out of your way to avoid him, sometimes even retreating to Helaena’s quarters to dodge his attempts to catch you.

Two weeks had passed since your return from Driftmark, and you remained resolute in your avoidance. You found refuge in Aemond’s library, more than ever before. Your brother, perceptive as ever, noticed something was amiss but chose not to pry.

“Sister.” Aemond remarked as he entered the room, his gaze shifting to you with a touch of amusement. “You seem to be avoiding the sun these days.” He selected a book from the shelf and settled beside you. You closed your own book and looked up at him.

“I simply prefer the quiet of the castle.” you said.

“Very well.” Aemond replied, flipping through the pages of his book. “He’s been pestering me about your whereabouts so much that it’s disrupted my training.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here, does he?”

“I told him you were in the castle.” Aemond admitted, “but I made it clear he wasn’t welcome in this room.” He glanced at you briefly before returning to his reading.

“Don’t you want to know why I’m avoiding him?”

“I have no desire to delve into your personal affairs.” he said nonchalantly. “By the way, Father wants us to join him for dinner tonight.”

“Again?”

“It’s just once a week.” he said with a smirk. “And don’t forget to sit next to your fiancé.”

“I’m not feeling well, I can’t go.”

“Stop being irresponsible.”

“Fine.” you said, standing up and returning the book to its place. “At least it will give me the chance to confront him directly.”

“You mean about how much you adore him and wish to marry him?” Aemond teased with a chuckle.

“No, I intend to end the engagement.” You thanked him for the book and left, determined to face the confrontation head-on.

“Stop staring at me, Prince.” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady as you sliced through the meat on your plate. The dinner conversation felt like a monotonous drone, and you were eager to escape.

“Uh.. I’m sorry.” he said, a flash of surprise crossing his face. “Would you care to dance?”

You placed your utensils down deliberately. “Yes, Prince.”

Despite the turmoil within you, you knew you had to confront him. It was time to face the issue directly.

“I believe we should annul our engagement.”

“What?” His eyes widened in shock.

“We need to end it.”

“No, no. Why would you want that?”

“You have feelings for Baela, and I’m clearly not the one you desire.”

“And how do you plan to achieve that? No one defies the king’s command.” he retorted, a tinge of anger in his tone.

“What about the prize from the hunting competition?” you suggested. “We haven’t claimed anything yet.”

“No way.” he declared, abruptly halting their dance. “If you believe you can wield that as leverage to dissolve our engagement, you are sorely mistaken.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving you alone and bewildered in the midst of the dance floor.

You returned to the dinner table, where everyone’s eyes were on you.

“It’s nothing.” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “He just remembered something he forgot.” As everyone resumed their conversations, you were left to ponder your next move. If he wouldn’t end the engagement through negotiation, how would you achieve it? You were willing to let him follow his heart, but the pain of watching him with someone else was a bitter pill to swallow. Love was proving to be a labyrinth of difficult choices and tangled emotions.

You awoke in an unfamiliar yet oddly familiar setting—an ancient, stone castle. This was Dragonstone, the venerable seat of your family. Before any questions could form or confusion set in, the door creaked open, and Jacaerys appeared.

“Where are the others?” you inquired, sitting up in bed.

“It is only us and the servants for now.” he answered, setting a tray of food on a nearby table. “We shall remain here together for a spell.”

“Did you abduct me here?” You sprang from the bed, attempting to make your way to the door. “Mother will certainly scold me.” But his swift hand seized your arm, causing you to stumble and fall into his embrace.

“No one will reprimand us.” he declared firmly, his voice resolute. “It is the king’s decree. Upon our return to the Red Keep, we shall wed.”

“And you did not refuse this arrangement?” you questioned, struggling against his grasp. His strength held you firmly in place.

“I desire to marry yo.,” he stated plainly. “That is why I did not refuse.”

“But I no longer wish for it. Release me.” you demanded, writhing in his arms. “Though I once loved you, if your affections lie elsewhere, you should set me free.”

“I love you.” his confession stilled you. “I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

“How am I to believe your words?” you asked, your voice trembling. “I witnessed you nearly kiss Baela.”

“If you had truly observed, you would have seen a mere insect upon her, which I was brushing away.” he explained, loosening his hold. You stepped back, maintaining a safe distance where his presence could no longer impose upon you.

“How can I trust you?” you inquired. “I have never felt the depth of your love.” He stepped closer, and you instinctively retreated.

“I have realized that I cannot endure the thought of you betrothed to another. I cannot bear the notion of you not being my wife.”

“Enough.” you interjected. “We shall discuss this later. I am hungry and wish to partake of my breakfast.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” he said with a slight bow, drawing out a chair for you at the table. He seated himself opposite you, his gaze unwavering as you ate.

After the meal, you resolved to bathe and change attire. You remembered being brought here upon Vermax, recalling only drifting into slumber and awakening in this new setting. He claimed to love you, but how could you trust his words?

He had been unkind, maintaining a delicate boundary between you—never more than friends or siblings. Now, his declarations of love seemed contradictory. Perhaps you had misjudged his intentions.

Donning a casual yet elegant dress, reminiscent of those worn in King’s Landing, you awaited his presence. The door opened to reveal Jacaerys. He nodded to the departing maid and approached you. You remained by the window, contemplating your next move.

“Is escape truly impossible?” you asked, turning to him. “I rode Vermax with you.”

“Indeed, you cannot escape.” he replied, closing the distance between you. “Nor can you evade me.” His fingers gently lifted your chin, leaning in close.

“Is this truly what you desire?” you questioned, meeting his gaze as he drew near.

“I desire you.” he murmured, inching closer until you turned your face away and stepped out of the room, not daring to look back. Your cheeks flushed and your heart raced uncontrollably.

“I… I am heading to the library.” you declared, exiting swiftly. Though his charm was undeniable, you resolved not to be easily swayed. He might be feigning affection to secure your marriage, but you intended to make your decision on your own terms.

Upon entering the library, you took a moment to admire its quiet charm before selecting a few volumes to peruse. Soon, Jacaerys entered, but he did not intrude; instead, he settled himself with some paperwork, a reminder of his princely duties. As you both worked in silence, the library’s serene atmosphere seemed to hold a delicate tension.

The peaceful scene was disrupted by the subtle, but persistent, awareness of Jacaerys’s gaze. Each time you glanced up from your book, you would catch him watching you with a mixture of curiosity and something more tender. The dissonance between your practiced composure and the fluttering hope in your heart left you at a loss. Could it truly be that the man you had admired from afar for so long might harbor affection for you in return?

“What are your thoughts on where we might travel after our wedding?” Jacaerys’s voice broke the silence, his words punctuating the stillness. “Pentos, for instance, has a certain appeal.”

“I cannot say.” you replied, closing your book with a thoughtful sigh. “I have yet to see much of the world beyond these walls. My experience is limited to the confines of King’s Landing and the occasional hunt.”

“Would you like to explore all the realms?” he inquired, his tone hopeful.

“Are you suggesting we visit all seven kingdoms?” You approached his desk, curiosity piqued.

“If that is your desire, I shall ensure it is so.” he promised.

“You must keep your word.” you said firmly, standing before him. “Do not break it as you have before.” You turned back to your seat, attempting to re-engage with your reading. The memory of past promises lingered, and Jacaerys, ever perceptive, noticed your pretense.

The prince rose and approached, seating himself beside you on the sofa. His presence was both comforting and unsettling. You shifted slightly, accommodating his proximity. Resting his head gently on your shoulder, he took your hand in his, clasping it with a reassuring warmth.

“I owe you an apology.” he said, his voice low and earnest. “I was at fault. I failed to prioritize you as you deserved.”

“I was never your first choice.” you replied softly. “Could you place me at the forefront of your considerations?”

“From this moment forward, you shall always be my foremost thought.” he assured you, pressing a tender kiss to your neck. “It may seem strange, but my affection for you has been steadfast for some time. You have held a special place in my heart.”

“But when you appeared to disdain me, you would not even converse with me.” you said, a hint of sadness in your voice.

“I was uncertain of how to approach you.” he confessed. “You have grown into such grace and beauty, and I was at a loss as to how to act with the woman I love.” His lips traveled a gentle path from your collarbone to your neck and then to your cheek.

“Someone might witness us.” you protested gently. “This could cause complications.”

“Let them see.” he said with quiet determination.

“I am not ready.” you said, rising and retreating to your chamber. You locked the door behind you, leaving Jacaerys standing alone. In the solitude of your room, the lines between affection, duty, and his true intentions remained blurred. Your heart was a tumult of conflicting emotions, and trust in his promises was still elusive.

tag list : @r3va-dwme @ladyofvelaryon @mckennah123 @ericasabe @yohanseyebrowmole @mah1644 @miksde @staarflowerr @tempo-rary-fix

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 10

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Larissa gets a visit from an old "friend". (cw: alcohol, self-doubt)

words: ~2.3k | ao3 link in title

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Larissa took a deep breath and checked her watch. Just a few more minutes and then she could lock her office door, kick off her heels, pour herself a glass of wine and-

“My dear Larissa.” Morticia’s smooth, deep voice echoed throughout Larissa’s office as the dark-haired woman threw open the door and strode over to the desk, perching herself on the edge of it as if she belonged there.

Larissa’s nostrils flared as she took in the familiar, self-assured way that Morticia interacted with her. How dare this woman barge into her office unannounced, practically claiming the space as her own? Steeling her nerves and plastering a fake smile on her face, she met the brunette’s piercing gaze.

“Morticia, how lovely that you’ve come to see me. Pray tell, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Morticia leaned towards Larissa, her cleavage spilling out of her tight black dress - Larissa’s gaze flitted about the room as she tried not to let her discomfort show, simultaneously trying not to gawk at the overt display of sexuality. It appeared that Morticia was still under the impression that she could use the same tricks on her that she’d used whilst they were still in school.

“I need your help - Gomez needs your help. Perhaps you could put in a good word with the mayor? Lord knows Sheriff Galpin won’t listen to reason. You know my dear Gomez is innocent.”

“Do I?” Larissa scoffed, earning herself a reproachful glare from Morticia. “Your family’s affairs are, quite frankly, none of my concern, and I’m certain you can handle this on your own. Now if you’ll-”

The principal was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. Checking the display, she couldn’t help but smile softly when she read your name, and she picked up without thinking twice.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hi,” you replied - your voice was a little shaky and Larissa furrowed her brow, suddenly concerned.

“Is everything alright?”

There was a brief silence that followed and Larissa’s stomach churned - just as she was about to ask again, you answered, sounding a little… off.

“Yeah, everything’s fine… I just wanted to hear your voice. I hope today went well?”

Larissa’s attention was pulled from the conversation by Morticia, who shifted impatiently on the desk, and Larissa stiffened, annoyance bubbling up inside of her.

“That’s very kind of you,” she replied carefully. “I actually-” 

“Larissa,” Morticia teased, enunciating every syllable of her name. “Do you have a lover you haven’t told me about?” She kept her voice low as she tried to get a rise out of the blonde. Larissa’s face hardened as she glared at her former roommate.

“I am in an important meeting just now, I’ll call you back later, alright?” Larissa told you. She felt awful blowing you off like this, but she would explain later - right now, she needed to get Morticia out of her office.

Another long period of silence followed, after which she heard a faint and hoarse “okay”.

Larissa hung up, her heart sinking as she wished more than anything to be with you - rather than having her old roommate, her former flame, perched before her on her desk, ready to pounce.

As if on cue, Morticia leaned in, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “So how is your love life these days?”

“That is none of your concern,” Larissa replied coldly. Morticia gave her a pitying look, pouting slightly and placing her hand on Larissa’s - the blonde pulled away as if she’d been burned.

“You’ve always had a knack for giving your heart to the wrong people…”

Larissa felt as though she’d been doused with a bucket of ice water. The irony of her former roommate’s words was not lost on her, and she felt her lip twitch in anger and disgust.

“You are no longer welcome in my office,” she hissed, standing and leaning over her desk. Morticia leaned in, too, their faces inches apart, Morticia’s expression all pity and faux-sympathy - it made Larissa’s blood boil, her heart pounding erratically.

Finally, Morticia pulled back, a satisfied smirk stretching across her face. “It’s not healthy to hold onto so much bitterness, darling,” she said, her voice low and seductive - her words like a slap across the face to Larissa. “I would hate to see my dearest friend grow cynical and resentful with age…”

“Get. Out.”

With a raised eyebrow and a shrug of her shoulders, Morticia headed for the door, floating out of the office with an elegance and grace that only she could possess. “I’m only looking out for you,” she purred as she shut the door behind herself.

Larissa let out a frustrated growl, her pulse hammering in her ears. Slumping back in her chair, she rested her head in her hands - she realized that she was shaking, and she tried to take a steadying breath.

Morticia’s words echoed loudly in her head and, now that Morticia was gone, self-doubt was allowing itself free reign, bouncing off the walls of her mind.

“I would hate to see my dear friend grow cynical and resentful with age.”

Had she grown cynical and resentful? Was she, perhaps, just a sad, bitter woman, rapidly approaching middle age, with nothing to show for it? Sure, she had her career - a career which, despite her love for her work, was causing her more stress by the day. But aside from that? She wasn’t married, she didn’t have children, she wasn’t on good terms with her family, she didn’t even really have many friends (true friends). She was, on almost all counts, deeply lonely.

What she did have was you - and you’d made her feel, for the first time in years, as though she could be happy and fulfilled and loved. But you were so young - you had your whole life ahead of you. And Larissa, well, Larissa was tired.

Larissa’s phone lay face up on her desk, taunting her. Her heart was aching, screaming at her to call you, desperate to hear your voice. But fear was seeping into her bones, and she knew she couldn’t call you without breaking down completely - and that wasn’t fair to you. 

“You’ve always had a knack for giving your heart to the wrong people.”

Morticia was wrong about this one, Larissa was certain of it - she had never felt so safe as when she’d given her heart to you. But perhaps you were the one who’d given your heart to the wrong person. Perhaps you deserved better than a bitter workaholic who doesn’t know how to love. Perhaps you deserved better than to spend your weekends comforting an emotionally unstable old woman who was weighed down by a past that felt too heavy to bear.

And so Larissa flipped her phone to silent mode and poured herself a glass of wine - and another, and then another, until the bottle was empty and her eyelids were beginning to get weighed down with sleep. She allowed herself to slump forward onto her desk, her eyes falling shut as her head spun with the effects of the alcohol.

~~~

Larissa woke to a sharp pain radiating from her left shoulder. She frowned, her eyes still heavy with sleep - was it just her, or was her pillow a whole lot harder than it should’ve been? Opening her eyes, it suddenly clicked for her - she’d fallen asleep at her desk.

The principal felt deep regret when she slowly straightened up - her back ached, sharp pains radiated from her shoulder up to her neck, her head was throbbing. She stretched her arms into the air, whimpering at the stiffness in her muscles, before looking at her watch to check the time. It was shortly before noon - Larissa’s heart dropped, and she was grateful that it was a Sunday and she hadn’t slept through any meetings.

Turning her phone over, Larissa felt bile rise in her throat at the notifications from you - two missed calls from this morning and a handful of texts.

Y/N [8:23 pm]: Hey <3 how was your meeting? Y/N [9:47 pm]: Are you okay? Y/N [11:02 pm]: I’m worried about you…  Y/N [11:02 pm]: I hope you manage to get some sleep :( 

Y/N [8:41 am]: Good morning, I hope you slept well! Y/N [9:56 am]: Larissa?? Are you still sleeping?

Larissa’s phone screen went black and she caught sight of her reflection - she looked like absolute shit. Her mascara was smudged and flaky, her lipstick faded and uneven, her hair disheveled, her dress wrinkled. She reeked of wine, and she winced as her gaze traveled to the empty bottle beside her. A shower was definitely first on the day’s agenda… right after calling you back.

Larissa felt her throat constrict as she clicked on your contact and lifted her phone to her ear, waiting for you to answer. It only took a few seconds, but those seconds felt like an eternity to the principal, who was wracked with indescribable guilt.

“Larissa! Are you okay? Did you just wake up?” Your tone was laced with worry and it made Larissa’s stomach twist uncomfortably, knowing that she was the cause.

It took her a moment to find her voice and, when she did, it was hoarse and gravelly. “I’m fine, darling,” she lied. “I’m sorry for not calling you back last night.”

“You did call me back,” you replied slowly - Larissa could hear the frown in your voice. “Do you not remember?”

“Oh, I- uh-” Larissa closed her eyes, her brows knitting together as she thought back to last night.

“Riss, are you okay? I was starting to worry… how did your meeting go?”

“‘Mm fine. ‘S good, I kicked M-morticia out of my office.”

“Are you drunk?”“A little.”

“I’m coming over.”

“No! Please, ‘m fine. Please, you don’t have to!”

“Please, let me help you. I really don’t mind I-”

“I’ll call you in the m-morning, darling, p-promise.” 

Larissa swallowed thickly. “I remember,” she whispered hoarsely. Her throat was suddenly so dry that she could hardly force the words out. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m really worried about you,” you said quietly, your voice subdued.

“I… I know.”

“Can I see you today?”

“I’ll come over when I’ve showered?”

“Yeah, okay.”

With a strained goodbye, Larissa made her way into her quarters, taking longer than necessary to shower as she allowed the steaming water to soothe her aching muscles and wash the tears off her cheeks. 

Two hours later, she was in the car on the way to your apartment - a mixture of guilt for her behavior and love for you tugging her heart in every which direction.

~~~

To say you were worried about Larissa was the understatement of the century. She’d sounded so lost, so small when she’d called you the previous evening, slurring her words, her voice close to tears - and she’d sounded absolutely awful this morning.

You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Morticia had been in her office, she’d said. You assumed that Morticia was Wednesday’s mother, Larissa’s old roommate. You didn’t quite think that Larissa would cheat on you - at least you hoped she wouldn’t - but still, it didn’t feel good being kept in the dark about something that clearly still affected Larissa so deeply.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you from your thoughts and you rushed to the door. The sooner you could see Larissa, the sooner everything would be alright.

Opening the door, you launched yourself into the blonde’s arms, catching her off guard. You noticed her wince a little as you wrapped your arms tightly around her, and you pulled back with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“As it turns out, my desk isn’t quite as suited to sleeping as I seemed to think last night,” Larissa muttered, rubbing her neck. She looked ethereal as usual, not a hair out of place, though her eyes told a different story - they were tired and dull.

Your stomach felt hollow at the realization that Larissa had fallen asleep, drunk and upset, at her desk, and you ushered her into your apartment and guided her to the larger of the two couches. You left her briefly to hurry to the kitchen, and returned a short while later with a large cup of coffee and two ibuprofen.

Larissa’s eyes widened gratefully, her gaze dropping to her lap as she accepted the coffee and the painkillers. You settled next to her on the couch, waiting patiently as she sipped the warm drink, your hand coming to rest on her thigh.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Darling, I… I’m truly sorry for my behavior. I’m not proud of myself and-” she swallowed, her eyes fluttering shut, “I wish you didn’t have to witness that.”

“Riss… it’s okay to be upset and to… you know, try to deal with it, I guess. I just… I wish you would let me take care of you.”

Larissa could hear the frustration in your tone and she opened her eyes, peering at you blearily through her lashes. “You shouldn’t have to,” she murmured softly.

“But I want to. That’s what partners do.” You scooted closer to Larissa to place a kiss on her cheek - her skin slowly turned pink under your lips.

She nodded, placing her mug on the coffee table and leaning back into your outstretched arms. “I’m not used to that,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that…”

“You do now,” you whispered, craning your head up to place a kiss to the crown of Larissa’s head and pulling her close. “I love you, you know?”

For the first time since she’d entered your apartment, a smile began to tug at the outer corners of Larissa’s lips. “I love you, too,” she whispered back, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck and allowing her eyes to fall shut.

x

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[lanitalay]

One day : Chapter 1

Azriel x Reader

a/n: I saw the netflix series, bawled my eyes out then thought it would make a great Az x reader story.

warnings: anxiety, drinking

word count: 1555k

Masterlist

Summer Solstice was your favorite holiday. Each year you look forward to celebrating the longest day of the year in the most beautiful city in the world. This year would be slightly different, as you were no longer a student, having recently graduated to proper healer. So, for the first time in years, you were able to stay up until the sun set and came back out because there were no readings to do, no papers to write and no seminars to attend the next day. You had informed Madja that you would not be coming in tomorrow and she had understood. “I was young and capricious as well, long, long ago.”

The day was spent at the Sidra, lounging and playing in the sand and the water. It was packed, thousands of fae clamoring to the shore to watch the High Lord’s ship pass by. Cheering for it. When the sun set your friends dragged you back to their apartment to get ready for the night ahead. The Rainbow would be filled with street vendors, music and art. 

“I can’t possibly drink more” you gagged as more sparkling wine was shoved in your hand. “Suck it up!” Nomi laughed and poured a glass for herself. Bec did your hair, curling it in loose waves. Fran did your makeup, smoking out dark shadows in your eye lid. Nomi gave you a short, short dress. The four of you admired the collective beauty in the mirror, even if not one of you could see straight. 

“Onwards!” Fran called and opened the door to let everyone stumble out. 

A few hours after drinking, eating and dancing in the street, Bec insisted she needed to sit down. You were looking around to see where you could take her when you spotted a familiar sign. “Let’s go to Rita’s, she’ll let us sober up in there” you guided your friends through the crowd, weaving in between all kinds of fae until arriving at the sanctuary. 

Rita recognized you and waved you in, sitting you down in one of the booths. The place was not quiet by any means, but the seats were cushioned and Bec sighed in relief as she took off her heels under the table. “These shoes rubbed my feet raw,” she hissed. You waved your hand over her feet and channeled some of your healing powers to her blisters. “Oh my gods, thank you, y/n.” You laughed and announced to the table “I’m going to get more drinks.” 

It had been ten minutes of standing by the bar, trying to get someone’s attention. “Hey! I need liquor!” You heard a low laugh behind you and turned around to see a looming figure, wings tight against his back, biting back a smile. “What’s so funny?” Always confrontational when drunk. He shook his head “nothing, can I order something for you?” 

You considered his offer. He was much, much taller than you. If he wanted, he could reach through the bar and grab a bottle of wine. There was a cloudiness to him, or maybe you were far too drunk. You nodded and told him what the table wanted. He waved the barkeep down and placed the order. “Are you the spymaster?” He nodded once. “I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand, as much as you could within the multitude of party goers. He shook it gently with a calloused hand “nice to meet you, y/n.” 

In a few minutes the four drinks were on the bar, Azriel helped you carry them back to the table. When your friends saw who was behind you their jaws practically unhinged. “Thank you, Spymaster.” “Azriel is fine” he said with a smile, and gods… that smile.  “Thank you, Azriel.”

You wanted to drown yourself in the Sidra when Nomi, ever fearless, shouted over the music “does the Spymaster dance?” 

“I could, with the right partner” he turned his head to look at you. “Are you inviting me to dance?" 

“Yes,” now it was him who had a hand stretched your way. You did not have to convince yourself to dance with him. Putting the glasses on the table, you turned and took his hand, letting him lead you right to the dance floor. 

It must have been hours that you spent dancing that night. At one point your friends came over to let you know they were going to call it. Azriel asked if you wanted to leave as well but his hips were grinding against your behind and his arms were firmly holding your waist. So you shook your head “no.” When the song changed he spun you, slotting your legs together, keeping you impossibly close. So close his nose nudged yours. By then, last calls were being made and you asked Azriel if he could walk you back to your apartment. 

He led you out of Rita’s and you pointed in the direction of your place. Azriel did not let go of your hand until you stopped in front of a building and said “this is me.” He looked at the stone building, decorated with flower boxes on the windows “it's nice.” 

“Can I get you some water? Something to eat?” The night could not end like this. You didn’t want this night to end at all. So when he nodded you beamed and opened the door, walking up the three flights of stairs to get to your apartment. “I have bread and…” you looked through the cabinets and were embarrassed that you had not stocked up on any groceries in weeks “chocolate chip cookies, but they are probably stale.” 

“I’ll try a cookie” he bit into it and grimaced “it’s very stale, throw that away.” You giggled and threw the cookies in the trash. When you turned back to face him he was right in front of you. A hair's breadth away. “You know you’re quite beautiful,” you gulp, “you’re very handsome too.”

His hands come up to graze your cheek, “I really want to kiss you.” 

“So kiss me” it doesn’t take him more than a second to bring your lips together. You hold onto his shoulders and he pushes you pack until he helps you jump on the counter. Your legs spread, wanting him to get closer, closer. He pulls back to ask “where’s your room?” You point to the door behind him and he grabs your thighs, carrying you towards a proper place to bed you. 

Ever so gently, he lays you down on your bed but you stand, turning so your back faces him. “I can’t reach the zipper,” with a feather-light touch he grabs the tiny piece of metal and slides it all the way down. You pull off the straps and let the fabric pool at your feet. Turn again to face this, this time completely bare.

“Your turn,” you start to undo his buttons but he quickly takes over, throwing his clothes on the floor next to yours.  Now you lay on the mattress and he settles on top of you, latching his mouth to yours once again. “Are you alright?” You notice his heart is beating erratically and place a palm on his chest to assess. “Yes, I’m-” “You’re having heart palpitations, lie down, let me do something” you push him on his back, hand still on his chest as you try to soothe the distressed organ. 

“I’m a healer, I’m going to send some magic to your heart to calm it down. It won't hurt but it might feel tingly.” You bring all your concentration to his heart. “It’s really fine-” “Shh, be quiet.” 

A few minutes go by and you are satisfied with his pulse. “Does that happen often? How much did you drink tonight?” 

“Sometimes and a lot.”

“Well try to limit your drinking to water for the next few weeks, I’ll tell Madja to check up on you soon.”

“Perfect, now can we get back to-”

“Absolutely not, you are going to sleep right now, stay here.” You hop off the bed again and throw on a night gown, and throw him pajama pants an ex had left behind. Azriel looks defeated on the bed. “Sorry to kill the mood, but I vowed to put my patients' health first. It's not something I can turn off.”

“Now I’m your patient?” 

“Everyone is a potential patient,” you say and fluff a pillow for him to lay on. “You don’t need to do that,” he grumbles. 

“Just relax.” You fluff your own pillow and lay down next to him. “It happens to me too. Madja calls them panic attacks, they can happen for no reason or a million reasons. It sucks.” 

“We didn’t need to stop, you know?” 

“Yeah, yeah. We can try again some other time.”

“So you want to see me again?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“The Spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t scare you?”

“Ha, good one. I can’t be scared of a patient and don't flatter yourself. You're too pretty to be scary” you teased. 

“Come here,” he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest. His heart steady.

“Tomorrow I’ll regret not drinking any water,” you mumble, words spilling into each other as the  weight of the day crashes into you, sleep taking over.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Feysand x closeted!reader: Drunken Mistakes[*]

A/N: I am committed to writing a Part 2 to this where dark!Feysand come onto reader once she’s sober (Part 3)

Warnings: smut, pussy eating, spitting, kind of exhibitionism, kind of threesome fmf, edging?, not proofread

“Isn’t it pretty?”

You laugh drunkenly as Feyre crawls across the bed to peer down your shirt as you show her your bra. “I saw it while shopping and thought it looked great—” You hiccup, flushing as she gets a full view of your breasts, “—and it was a matching set, so I thought I’d get something nice for myself, for one in my life!”

The door to her bedroom opens, and Rhys enters with a tray. When he sets it on the bedside table, you see it holds a glass of water, some buttered toast, and a pill. “Let me get a better look, I can’t see it with your top on,” Feyre argues, hands already greedily dropping to its hem, pushing it up over your chest. She takes in the blue-grey fabric, violet lace decorating it’s edges.

“And it offers super good support, too,” you slur, eyes squinting at Rhys as you try to figure out why he’s here. “Feyre, darling,” he calls, and her attentions drags away from you, making your shoulders slump. It’s not as if you need her attention, but…you just feel prettier when she’s looking at you. Like you’re worth her time.

“She needs to eat.” His eyes slide to you, while you stare at Feyre with unconcealed adoration. He nods to you, “she’s giving you an opportunity.” Feyre’s eyes return to yours and you flush, having been caught staring—off in your own world. Her eyes flick back to Rhys’s and she looks unsure.

Your body feels cold without her attention.

“She’s drunk, Rhys,” Feyre returns, worrying her lower lip. He shrugs, as if it’s of no matter, but the stiffness betrays him. “Drunk words and sober thoughts and all that.” He turns to you, “isn’t that right, little lynx?”

Your attention drags to him, “sorry, what?”

He laughs, and the sound drags down your spine, making you shiver. His sparkling eyes flick back to his mate, “see?” She bites her lip, looking at you, and you wish she were putting her teeth in your own instead. “She won’t remember a thing in the morning.” The High Lord settles on the bed, beside you, the mattress dipping. “Alcohol be damned, we’re daemati. This whole night will be a blur if you wish it.” He cups her cheeks, looking at her with nothing but love, and you feel the need to look away. Like you’re seeing something private. “We can have our fun, and she’ll be fine, none the wiser.”

Rhysand turns to you, hands leaving Feyre’s cheeks as his hungry violet gaze meets yours, “isn’t that right, little lynx?” You tilt your head as you look at him, “what are you talking about?” A smirk tips his hellish mouth, before he’s leaning forward, enveloping your lips with his own. You squeak, startled as you freeze, not knowing what to do. “Rhys!” Feyre scolds, but he keeps his soft mouth over yours.

He pulls away before you have a chance to figure anything out, hand cupping your jaw as you subconsciously lean into his warmth. “Did you like that, hm?” He asks, and you blink. Then dip your head. Because you did like it, and you don’t want to lie to him. You can’t lie to him. To either of them.

You blink, and your top has been removed, leaving you in your bra and skirt. “What about that?” Rhys asks, a playful lilt to his voice, and his lips are more flushed than before. You feel hotter, and more out of breath than seconds ago. “What about what?” He exchanges glances with his mate, and her hungry eyes settle on you.

She’s taken back to her years in the forest, when she was the huntress in those snowy woods, and remembers the beautiful doe she’d seen on that fateful day.

“You…said you’d bought a matching set…” She swallows, watching you nervously, “…are you wearing it now?” Rhys smirks at his mate, an appreciative gleam in his eyes as he takes in his cunning High Lady. You nod giddily, smiling drunkenly, and she’s not sure she can work up the courage to ask. What if you say no? Or she scares you off? Or what if—

“Would you like me to show you?”

Her head goes quiet, but you’re already lying down, lifting your hips to shimmy out of your skirt. You move to your hands and knees, crawling toward her so she can clearly see the pretty underwear. Rhysand swears under his breath, watching with lustful fascination as you bare your pretty hips, clad in thin blue-grey fabric with the light, deep blue lace neatly edging the hem—so blue it’s violet.

Feyre’s breath catches as you look down at yourself obliviously, fingers playing with the band of the material, tugging lightly at the lace. “It looked so pretty, and the lace reminded me of—… I mean, I liked their colour—”

“Finish that sentence.” Rhys’ voice cuts through your own, strained and demanding and you flinch. You force a laugh, settling down on your knees as you turn to him, Feyre still speechless. “The colour. The bluey-grey goes nicely with the violet—”

“No…” he tuts, hand lightly gripping your jaw as he tilts you to look at him. “What does it remind you of, huh?”

Your breath catches as he looks at you with those eyes.

You feel utterly bare.

You swallow, “I—…”

“I’ll know if you lie to me.” Your cheeks flush with heat and you try to force it down—to no avail. “I—…uh.” Your eyes skim to Feyre, who in turn is staring at you ravenously. Her eyes flick to yours and you nearly reel back at the hunger. The starving hunger in the depth of her gaze. “Your eyes,” you mumble, stammering the words out, “they reminded me of your eyes, High Lord.”

Rhys has to bite back a beastly snarl at the confession, needing to put his teeth in your skin, taste you, have you coming on his tongue—

“You like the feeling of our eyes on you?” Feyre asks, and you shift uncomfortably, raising your knees to cover your body as you lean back on your hands. “When you put it like that…”

She follows, shifting onto her hands and knees as she crawls after you, slowly cornering you at the other end of the bed. Rhys swears he gets hard from just watching the hunt. His huntress. Those years left their mark on her, and the scars are showing. “You liked the feeling of having us covering your most intimate parts? Hidden beneath those pretty clothes?” Your thighs squeeze together at her words, shaking your head.

“It’s not like that…I just—”

“Don’t.” She commands, barely a whisper as you reach the headboard, back pressing flush to the cushioned panel. Your lips seal at her order, following obediently. “Do you want to see mine?” She stops when she’s between your legs, hands pressing behind you.

You swallow, eyes flicking away. “Don’t you—… Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” She gives you a curious look. “You’re my High Lady. And…Rhys is my High Lord. And you’re mates.” Her lips quirk at the edges, “what’s a small peek between girl friends, right?” Her hands settle to the tops of your thighs, fingers dancing along your skin, cresting your curved knees. “You’re always saying I’m the closest friend you have… Besides, you’re already only in your underwear, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable if I was too?”

Her grin turns vulpine, “or do you like the idea of commanding Rhys’ attention?”

Traitorous heat flushes your cheeks. You don’t want to tell them the truth, you love having their eyes on you, love it when they care for you, and talk to you, and touch you— “do you—…do you want me to help you? Undo your dress?” You divert, and Feyre’s eyes spark.

She feels the imploring pressure of Rhys’ gaze upon her, encouraging her to take the opening you’re obliviously giving her. She won’t waste it.

The High Lady shifts on the bed, sweeping her hair over a shoulder, baring the ties of her dress to you. “Be my guest.”

She’s set on her knees, back to you. Your eyes traitorously flick to Rhysand’s, as if he might stop you from touching his mate so intimately, but his eyes are hungry, watching like a predator. He nods his head, and your fingers lift to her dress, pulling the ties free.

Then she’s allowing the gown to flow off her shoulders, crawling out of the constraining material as she kicks it away. Feyre turns to face you, revelling in the way your cheeks heat. “What do you think, birdie?”

“I—…uh, it’s nice. Very nice. Suits you…well.” It’s all an understatement. The fabric is a lighter blue-grey than your own, verging on a creamy navy, with white lace strewn finely across the straps. There are small, floral embellishments dotted across the material in thin, silver thread. Absolutely all of her is beautiful.

“That’s it? It’s just…nice?” She breathes, settling onto her hands and knees as she crawls over you. You swallow, leaning backward as she prowls forward. “I…I’m struggling for words, Fey. It’s…very lovely.” She pushes you beneath her, and you follow willingly, melting into a pliant mess under her guiding palms. “I’m sure you can find a way to articulate yourself…through one way or another.”

She leans closer, and you feel her breath puff over your mouth, eyes dipping down. Her tongue darts out, lapping over her lower lip, making your eyes flick back up to hers hurriedly. She’s caught you.

The High Lady wants to put her mouth over yours, but she’s struggling with that first step that will—hopefully—set all the others into a fluid stream. She needn’t concern herself, as she hears your heart rate increase, how your eyes are quavering, desperate to descend. Then your eyelids are fluttering closed, tipping yourself toward her. Access.

She hesitates. You’re drunk, and she’s not sure she would be able to look you in the eye if she has to wash your memory. But you’re clearly giving her permission…

‘What are you waiting for?’

Her eyes snap to her mate, who’s still sat on the edge of the bed, lower down. She can see the clear evidence of his arousal at the display, and it makes her thighs squeeze together.

‘Take her.’

‘She’s drunk, Rhys… She doesn’t know what she’s doing.’

‘She knows what she wants. Give it to her.’

Feyre returns her eyes to you, your slightly puffy lips, the heat from your cheeks, the open expectation resting on your features.

‘Before she opens her eyes.’

She leans down, lips ghosting over your own, and she feels the shudder that traces down your spine, the soft sigh you release.

‘Take her or I will.’

Her mouth presses against yours firmly, lips opening as she melts across your tongue, heat pounding between your legs. You moan quietly, almost dizzy from relief, feeling weightless. Her hands brush over your sides, grazing your breasts as you arch beneath her deft fingertips.

You yelp when she reaches around to your back, unclasping your bra, pushing the straps over your shoulders. Your arms fly across your chest, breaking the kiss to conceal you from her eyes.

Her hand settles over your wrist, not tugging, just resting there. “Why are you hiding? There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Her blue-grey eyes stare down at you gently, piercing through your shields with terrifying ease.

Your eyes flicker to where Rhys sits lazily, taking in the show, not making the slightest effort to conceal his arousal. “Don’t worry about him. Focus on me,” she demands softly, stroking your cheek to return your attention to her. “He’s harmless, really.”

“He doesn’t look harmless…”

And you’re completely correct. Being proven so as he prowls up quietly behind his mate, draping himself over her back, arms circling her waist, pressing kisses to her neck as he stares you down.

‘Sit upright.’

You follow the command mindlessly, not focusing on where the urge came from as you move to your knees before them, arms moving to settle between your thighs as they take in your perky nipples.

‘Open your legs.’

Again, you follow obliviously, simply yielding to the inclination. Your thighs part as you set them wider, revealing more of yourself to their hungry eyes.

“See? She just needs some orders to follow, then she’s all set.” Rhys whispers to her ear, fingertips tracing over her stomach as they both look at you with pools of desire in their eyes. “She won’t remember a thing in the morning. So what’s holding you back?”

Feyre shifts in his arms, a predator teaching his lover to hunt like he does. “Do you not want her? We can toss her out if you don’t like her.”

“Rhys,” she snarls. She knows what he’s doing, but falls for it anyway. Stumbling straight into his trap. “Then take her.”

When she hesitates longer, refusing to make another move, Rhysand sighs sharply. His fingers drop to the clasp on her bra, tearing away the offending material. Feyre gasps, wanting to cover herself from you, but he catches her wrists. “Don’t.” She snarls, but it lacks the necessary bite to warn her mate away from you.

You watch almost absently, until your return to the front of your mind, re-inhabiting your body as you flush at the sight. Your eyes latch onto Rhys’, and a dangerous promise dances in his gaze. If you make the first move, everything will follow, slot seamlessly into place. “Go on,” he taunts softly, “have a taste.”

Feyre nearly loses her mind when you hesitantly move forward, one hand placing on her thigh, the other cupping her jaw. Your nose brushes her, and you can feel their eyes on you, as if you’re some rare creature they’re tracking, afraid one move will send you fleeing from their bedroom. Your look down at her lips, so plump and pillowy, but…

You stiffen, the alcohol beginning to ware off. Fey’s your friend. And female. You shouldn’t be doing this. Your eyes worriedly rise to Feyre’s and your breath catches.

Please. The word shines in her gaze, so desperate and pleading it wipes away any previous doubts in your mind. Allowing yourself to live in the moment. Love in the moment.

You lower your mouth to hers, and feel the soft groan in her chest.

And then everything snaps.

She’s pulling off Rhys, her hands gripping your hips, snaking round your back, tangling in your hair as she raises herself onto her knees. Her tongue sweeps in, dominating your mouth with relentless, demanding strokes. All you can do is arch into her as she devours you, pulling you tighter against her body as she indulges herself.

Rhys chuckles softly, pulling back to watch the erotic display unfold. “I think I’ll leave you two to get to know each other, shall I?”

Feyre pulls away at the words, spinning you around so you’re back is to her mate. You stiffen, feeling his hungry gaze lick up your spine, feeling wary of having the devious male out of sight. He could get up to any number of tricks.

“You want a show, Rhys?” She growls lowly, hands brushing down until she’s grabbing your ass possessively. You press your hands to her rib cage, beneath her breasts as you startled at the proprietary handling. “A show would be nice,” he drawls, “I’ve become tired of resorting to fantasy. I’m sure the real thing will be much more satisfying, Feyre, darling.”

She snarls, pushing you down onto the bed, crawling up your body as she lays a dominating hand over your chest. Then she’s dipping down, teeth sinking into your neck as she marks you over and over again, until there are very few patches of skin that she hasn’t bruised. Her hands touch you greedily, cupping your breasts as she rolls the tips of her fingers over your peaked nipples.

Your High Lady pulls away, long enough to glare down at you. “And to think you’ve been keeping this to yourself.” Her eyes run over your body, “keeping yourself away from us.” You flush at the possessive tone, preening beneath her attention as she thumbs your breasts. “Fey…” you pant, desperate and pleading.

“Tell me,” she orders, “tell me what to do. What do you want from me? Say it and it’s yours.”

Your eyes nearly roll at her admission, parting your thighs for her to settle closer. “Your mouth,” you pant, vision blurring, “please, fey. I need you between my legs. Please.” She doesn’t think twice, already shifting down your body until she’s between your thighs, scattering more marks over your skin. The tears spill, “Fey, please. Don’t tease me.”

A hand cups your cheek, large and calloused as you meet violet eyes.

“Why should she, little lynx?” Rhys drawls softly, appearing above you. “You’ve been driving us mad for so long. Why should we reward you for withholding our pleasure for so long, hm?”

Feyre lowers between your thighs, her hot breath fanning over your clothed cunt. Slim fingers brush over the apex of your thighs, a ghost of a touch. It has you preening, raising your hips into her touch. “I’m sorry—… I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to!”

Rhysand laughs, brushing away your tears casually, as if they don’t cloud his mind with arousal at the thought of shoving your head between his legs and just using you until you’re spluttering and choking on his come. “Ohhh, I see. You didn’t know.” Feyre snaps the band of your underwear in response, drawing a whimper from your mouth, hips bucking.

“You want me to believe you’ve never noticed the way Feyre and I look at you? How she often walks you home whenever you’re drunk because you’ll become flushed and carelessly take your clothes off for her? How you’ll get those inappropriate daydreams at the most inopportune moments? Have you never pieced it together, little Lynx?”

Heat warms your cheeks as you shake your head earnestly. “No! Rhys, I swear…” Feyre’s fingers glide over your clit, brushing in light oscillations as you buck your hips toward her. “Fey,” you whimper, beseeching her, “please. Please, I need you so badly.”

“Ah, ah, ah. You want her, you’ll have to convince me.” Rhys stares down at you, upside down to one another. “What do you want?” You plead, feeling as her tongue lolls out, lapping over the material. You whine at the wetness, but it’s dulled by that damned fabric—

Rhysand laughs, appreciating his cunning mate for her quick-thinking.

“It’s quite simple really,” he begins, giving you a coy smile that has slick dampening your underwear. “What is it?” You try to hurry him, eyes nearly rolling as her tongue laps lower, pressing over your entrance. You need her inside.

He tuts, hand gripping your jaw as he tilts your head upward, pressing you into the mattress to look at him. “You’re ours,” he drawls. “Whenever we want, whenever we need. You’re ours.” You nod desperately, just needing Feyre to give you her pleasuring mouth. “Promise it.” He drawls. “Make that bargain with us. Submit yourself to your High Lord and Lady, and we’ll give everything to you.”

Feyre thumbs at your clit, tongue following soon after as it swipes over the wet fabric, a mix of saliva and arousal. “I’m yours. I swear it! Promise it. Whenever you want, for whatever you need. I’m yours. Just—… Please!”

Dark delights rushes those violet eyes, the pads of his fingers brushing against your lower lip as you feel something sting down your chest—along your sternum. The bargain mark.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing the muscles of your jaw as he leans closer to you, “so good for us.” He spits into your mouth, scenting the wave of arousal that overwhelms his senses. You moan at the action, Feyre pulling your underwear from your heat, strands of slick connecting from the fabric to your cunt.

Your tongue moves in your mouth, playing with his spit, preening as her mouth envelops you. It’s the best paradise you’ve ever known, the wet heat of her tongue lapping over your pussy, playing with your clit. You nearly scream when she slides two fingers into you, easing her way in. Your mind goes blank, gripping Rhys’ hand as you open your mouth wider, curving your back and lapping at his fingers, asking for more.

He forgets how powerful arousal is sometimes. How it sinks it’s claws into one’s mind, until you can hardly tell up from down, or whether you’re truly acting of your own volition. Right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were controlling him, with the way his lips seal shut, gathering the saliva on his tongue, before he spits down.

You shatter in response, Feyre suckling on your clit so intently as her fingers pump and curl, stimulating you in ways you’d never imagined.

This time, you do scream.

Your world collapses as wave after wave crests over your body, soaking you in arousal as pleasure crashes down, coursing through your skin like a second life force. Your eyes squeeze shut, pushing tears over their edge with you as you free fall through the pleasure.

“So good for us,” Rhys drawls, “so marvellously perfect, aren’t you, little lynx?” You nod desperately, swallowing down his praise, tasting him on your tongue because you’re so good and so perfect and so delightfully theirs.

Feyre pulls up from between your thighs, fingers withdrawing and you take in how her mouth glistens. Then she’s hauling you to her, and your thighs are wrapped around her hips, and you’re clawing at one another, already desperate for round two.

Your High Lady lifts you from the bed, turning you around so you’re on your hands and knees before her mate. He’s settled down, hands bracing himself on the mattress, long legs either side of you. He’s giving you a perfect view of his prominent arousal.

“Go on,” he taunts, softly, a hint of overpowering lust and affection twining in his lover’s voice, “set to work.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter IV

Song recommendation for this fic!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter V

A/N: I don’t need to use google translate for Italian but I can’t say the same about Latin sooo don’t mind the google translate Latin lol

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

The sun shone high in the pale blue sky, gently beaming down on you as you knelt in the grass outside the ministry. You were on laundry duty today, so you and a handful of other sisters were out doing the wash and hanging it up to dry on the line. With your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, you scrubbed yet another garment up and down on the washboard; sparkling soapy water sloshing over the sides of the basin. You rung it out before standing to hang it on the line, securing it with a couple clothes pins so that it wouldn’t blow away. You grinned in amusement, recalling that particularly windy incident where Papa Nihil’s white chasuble ended up getting blown right into a puddle of mud because it wasn’t pinned to the line.

As you and the other sisters silently scrubbed the clothes, your angelic voice rang out in the open air, singing He Is.

“He is, he’s the shining and the light without whom I cannot see,” Your voice was graceful and melodic as you mindlessly sang, grateful to Satan for this beautiful day.

“And he is, insurrection, he is spite, he’s the force that made me be.” You continued, smiling when the other sisters began joining you; a soft chorus of voices singing praises to your Dark Lord.

You stood once more, hanging another garment on the line as you continued to sing, “He is, nostro dis pater, nostr- Aaaah!” Your dulcet chorus was interrupted by someone tightly grabbing you around the waist, causing you to let out a surprised, high pitched scream.

“Are you singing that about me, Sorellina?” It was Terzo who purred into your ear, his voice dripping with a smirk.

You playfully struggled in his grasp, screaming again- this time in laughter- when he picked you up.

The other sisters looked on in jealousy, always wishing Terzo would pay them as much attention as he paid you. He was constantly fawning over you, always wanting to touch you in some way, always giving you some sort of special treatment.

“Papa!” You kicked into the air a few times before the two of you toppled to the ground, rolling around together in the plush grass as you both struggled against one another.

“Hm? Are you, Sorella? Are you singing for your Papa?” He teased, now on top of you and trying to pin you down.

Sister Emily huffed at the scene, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. She was especially envious, as she had a huge crush on Terzo.

You grasped for a fistful of little wild flowers, ripping them out of the ground and playfully smacking Terzo with them, shoving them in his face.

The sisters were always so taken aback by your attitude towards Terzo. You didn’t even act starstruck that Papa was interacting with you. Here he was, straddling your hips and holding you down, the skirt of your casual habit having ridden up up up to reveal your panties to everyone. But instead of keening into his touch, you were laughing and fighting for your life, even whacking him with a handful of flowers. But what the sisters didn’t understand is that’s exactly what Terzo absolutely loved about you. He was used to every sister of sin swooning over him, but you… You were feisty, a breath of fresh air.

You erupted in giggles when he sputtered, spitting out some of the flowers that had gotten stuck in his mouth.

“Flowers? For me, Sorella? How romantic!” He gasped exaggeratedly, draping a hand across his forehead dramatically, his other hand trying to pin your wrists down while you screamed and wriggled under him.

“Noooo!” You protested, shaking your head.

“No? Well.. how about some of this, then, eh?!” He cackled out an evil laugh as his gloved fingers found your sides, tickling you ruthlessly.

You shrieked, thrashing under him. “Papa have mercy! I-I’ll get in trouble for not doing my chores!” You cried out between giggles, desperately trying to shove him off you.

You sighed in relief as he let up, leaning down closer to you. “You know, Sorella… As Papa, I can always just relieve you of your duties.” Terzo hummed. “That way I can sit here and tickle you all day long!” He growled suddenly, making you squeal one last time before he huffed out a laugh himself, rolling off you to lay beside you in the long grass, gazing at you fondly.

The two of you were a mess; your veil had been pulled off at some point during the struggle, and there were pieces of grass and flower petals stuck in both his and your tousled hair.

You both stared at each other for a few moments while you caught your respective breaths, but Terzo suddenly turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “Allora, I did not come here just to bother you.” He spoke. “Although, it is one of my greatest passions.” Terzo added with a smirk and a wink that had you swatting at him and laughing.

“I have come to remind you of your Latin lesson!” He beamed with a little flourish, or as much of a flourish as he could do while laying on the ground.

“Huh? Oh! Shoot, I’m gonna be late!” You stood up, shaking yourself off and trying to locate your veil. Offering Terzo your hand, you pulled him up to his feet.

“Come on, Em, it’s time for Latin!” You called, waving her over.

She caught up with you and Terzo, eagerly trying to walk next to him and maybe strike up a conversation.

But then you were turning to your Papa, smirking and challenging him. “Last one to the ministry drinks curdled goat milk!” You yelled before taking off running.

“Cazzo!” He swore, chasing after you. He was right behind you, but his foot caught on something, tripping and falling but managing to grab your ankle and causing you to tumble to the ground too. Terzo laughed maniacally, jumping to his feet and dragging you backwards by your ankles as you screamed and clawed at the earth, grabbing fistfuls of grass. You had to admit, for an old man he was pretty damn spry.

“Papa you’re crazy!” You laughed.

“If you don’t hurry up, we’re all going to be drinking curdled goat milk for keeping Papa Secondo waiting…” Emily grumbled.

“She’s right, you know.” You looked back over your shoulder at your Papa, who conceded, nodding in agreement and releasing your ankles.

But suddenly you were squealing in surprise again as Terzo lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way back to the ministry.

“Look at the sweet little lamb I have caught out in the field!” He declared triumphantly once he burst through the doors, making you giggle and swat at his back while kicking your feet.

Some siblings of sin laughed at their Papa’s antics, while others only stared enviously, a few grumbling to each other. Emily was one of the latter, huffing in annoyance and waiting for Terzo to be done. He didn’t have to make it so obvious that you were everyone’s favourite.

Setting you down, Terzo gave you a playful smack on the ass to push you in the direction of Secondo, who was striding down the corridor.

“Crazy old man.” You huffed with a grin. You turned and stuck your tongue out at Terzo, who returned the favour, before you greeted Secondo.

“Hi, Papa Secondo! I’ll be ready for Latin soon, I was just doing the laundry and-”

“Ciao, Sorella. Don’t worry, I am not doing Latin class today.” He explained.

“What?? You’re getting sick of me already?” You pouted.

Secondo’s stern expression softened as he gazed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in what you could possibly call a smile.

“Of course not, ragazzina.” He pinched your cheek playfully. “I am only taking the day off. Then I will be back, si?”

You smiled up at him, nodding understandingly. “Who’s teaching the class today?” You enquired.

“Oh, Copia. The Cardinale. He is very good at Latin, si? You will be in good hands.”

Your eyes widened, a cute little smirk forming on your face at that information.

“Alright, that sounds good.” You bit your lip. “I’ll miss you dearly but I won’t miss your stupid pop quizzes.” You teased, batting your eyelashes at the man.

“Enjoy today with no pop quiz, but pay attention. I will be testing you on what the Cardinale has taught.” He spoke sternly, but winked at you playfully, causing you to giggle. Secondo picked a few flower petals out of your hair, giving your cheek one last endearing pinch before sending you on your way.

What had started as private Latin lessons between you and Secondo soon turned into the man teaching a small class of you and a few siblings at the behest of Sister Imperator. He was intimidating and scary when he asked you a question and waited for your answer while glaring at you with those haunting mismatched eyes. However, Secondo really was delightful; he taught you well. And you were the teacher’s pet, always pleasing him with being the first one to eagerly raise your hand and giving correct answers. However, even you weren’t exempt from getting chastised, albeit much gentler than the scoldings he gave to his other pupils. It was mostly for you snickering in class and passing notes.

You ran down the corridor and up the stairs, noting that you had some time to clean yourself up before class started. You freshened up, successfully getting all of the foliage out of your hair and changing into a different habit. This time, you opted for one that was almost like your casual habit except it had a shorter skirt which rose above the knee, and a frilly white rounded collar. The top of the dress was tight to show off the silhouette of your breasts and it pinched in deliciously on your waist before the little skirt gently flared out in an A-line. You wore it with a pair of black thigh-high stockings and your high heeled Mary Janes, looking studious, but still sinfully naughty; smirking as you applied some lipgloss and affixed your veil to your head, always preferring to wear it so that it still showed off your hair. Taking one last look in the mirror and grabbing your book bag, you hurried out the door.

•𖤐•

Your heels clicked on the marble floors as you jogged down the hall, actually making it to the classroom early, but upon opening the door, you found that it was empty. You set your bag down at your desk in the front row, and suddenly a horribly naughty idea was blooming in your head. Casting a glance around, you casually walked behind Secondo’s desk and pulled the drawer open, taking out the huge black book that he taught from, the one with the ornately embossed pentagram on it; worn and old from decades of use.

Deft fingers flipped to the place Secondo had bookmarked, which was the unholy sacraments and praying to Satan in Latin. That was all quite good and fine, but you had a different idea in mind.

You flipped to the table of contents, fingertips skimming over each topic before settling on the one you wanted. With a devious smirk on your lips, you plucked the black velvet and gold bookmark out and placed it a little further into the book. You put it back in the desk and hurried to sit down in your seat, hands folded neatly on your desk like a good little girl.

No more than two minutes later, Emily, Mable, Lilith, and Ava entered, followed by a couple more siblings that you didn’t really hang out with aside from class.

One of them was Rob, who everyone thought was particularly dreamy. He had the hots for you, of course he did, but he was sooo not your type. Far too young. Never stuttered. Not rat-like in the very slightest.

You had a much different definition of the word ‘dreamy’ than your friends; while they were all scribbling in their diaries about Rob at night, you found yourself writing Copia’s name in swirly cursive with hearts all around it.

You all greeted one another, chatting for a bit while you reached into your bag, grabbing your notebook and unwrapping a red heart-shaped lollipop.

Suddenly, you saw the doorknob twisting and jiggling around, hearing shuffling on the other end. Then a pause, before the door began rattling on its hinges.

You all looked on in confusion, concern growing as you heard quiet muffled Italian curses on the other side as the ornate wood rattled.

Then another beat of silence.

“Ah, shit..” Copia murmured, finally realizing that he had to push the door open, not pull it. He cracked the door open, peeking inside to make sure he was in the right place.

“Ta da..!” The Cardinal gave an awkward little flourish, finally entering into the room.

You heard Emily leaning closer to Rob and Mable, snickering out a “Loser.” and earning cruel chuckles from them.

“Hi, hello, ehh.. How do you do?” He greeted you all, gloved hands clasped in front of him while he looked around the class, his painted eyes settling on you, swallowing nervously.

You smiled sweetly at the man, licking and sucking on your lollipop, tongue swirling around it as you waited for him to begin the lesson.

Copia pulled open the drawer, taking the heavy book out.

“Ehm.. Class, today we are going to learn the Latin, si?” He looked at you all with a little nod.

“Yeah no shit, Sherlock, it’s literally Latin class.” Rob pointed out, all the girls giggling at his stupid joke. All of them except you, who shot a dirty look back at him.

“Ah, si, o-of course. Ehh… Well let us see where you left off with Papa Secondo, okie dokie?” He was quick to recover, trying not to let the rude comments or snickering get to him.

Copia opened the book, flipping to the page that you had secretly selected.

“Ah, here we are. Today’s topic will be-” The Cardinal’s already pale complexion paled even further, his cheeks immediately flushing red hot as he stared down at the book.

“Ehm.. t-today’s.. eh, today’s topic will be, ehhm…” The man shook his head, making sure that’s really where the bookmark was.

“Is something wrong, Cardinal?” You spoke up, feigning concern with that sweet voice of yours.

“No..!” He replied a little too quickly. “Eh, no, no..” He cleared his throat. “Today’s topic will be… Fornicationis Rituali Magicae ad Honorem Satanae.”

Fornication Ritual Magic for the Honour of Satan.

Your lips curled up into a little smirk, eyes fixed on Copia while you sucked on your lollipop.

He began doing his best to teach the lesson, his cute accented voice wavering and stammering every time his mismatched gaze swept over you.

You knew what you were doing with that lollipop too, ruthlessly distracting him from reading with a few wet slurping noises, no doubt forcing the poor man to think dirty thoughts as you laved your sinful little tongue over it while staring right at him. He probably felt like a sick pervert for those thoughts, clueless at the fact that you were deviously orchestrating it all.

The Cardinal was currently stumbling through a sentence about how important sex rituals were, when you raised your hand.

“Eh- Yes, Sorella?” Copia nodded to you.

“Have you ever done a sex ritual, Cardinal?” You enquired with a curious tilt of your head.

“Ehm. No…” He replied, embarrassment apparent on his face.

“Thank Satan..” Emily scoffed quietly, but still loud enough for everyone including Copia to hear. “I’d feel sorry for the girl who had to get fucked by rat man.”

Stifled giggles sounded from everyone in the class, some murmuring in agreement.

Copia visibly flinched at that comment, clearly already very insecure about being undesirable. With shoulders slumped, his eyes met the floor before turning around quickly and writing on the board, surely because he didn’t want to face the jeering class anymore.

“Would.. would anyone like to come up here and write the translation to this?” The Cardinal spoke up, and you raised your hand eagerly while everyone else slacked off.

The chalkboard read ‘Pro nomine domini nostri obscuritatis, hoc sacramentum libidinis tenebrosum accipio’ in Copia’s nice handwriting.

He nodded at you, and you stood from your desk, sauntering over to him. Considering him for a moment, you pulled the lollipop from your mouth with an audible pop, the Cardinal’s eyes immediately flicking to your lips, which were stained red from the candy.

“Here, hold this.” You said, shoving the lollipop into Copia’s mouth, his eyes widening and cheeks burning red hot at the thought of having something in his mouth that had previously been in yours. You swiped the piece of chalk out of his hand, writing the translation on the board underneath Copia’s writing.

For the name of our Dark Lord, I accept this dark sacrament of lust.

All eyes in the class were on you; how confidently you wrote the answer, and how good you looked while doing it, the short skirt of your habit almost giving everyone an eyeful as you stood on your tippy toes and leaned against the blackboard. You finished by drawing a little heart at the end of your sentence, turning to Copia once more. He had the most pathetically dumb look on his face, still in shock with your lollipop in his mouth. You took one of his hands, placing the piece of chalk in it before taking your lollipop back and deliberately licking his saliva off it before shoving it back in your mouth.

Everyone’s eyes were as wide as pies as you took your seat once more, appalled whispers filtering all throughout the room. Copia was completely besides himself, looking as though he could pass out any second. His blush had spread to the tips of his ears, burning across the bridge of his nose, and surely on his chest under his cassock.

You rested your head in your hand, gazing dreamily at the man as he tried to regain his composure, painfully stammering on about the next paragraph in the book, when a hand swatted at your arm. You looked over, seeing everyone staring at you expectantly.

“What?” You whispered.

“What the fuck was that?” Mable whispered back.

“Yeah, like, ew.” Emily added disapprovingly.

You only shrugged, sticking your tongue out at them and continuing to mindlessly scribble down some notes. Satan, he was fucking delicious. You wanted Copia to be your lollipop instead; you wished you could beg for the Cardinal to spit in your mouth right then and there in front of the whole class. But you couldn’t, not yet. You weren’t… you weren’t done with him yet.

You folded a piece of paper into a neat little airplane, sending it floating through the air and gently crashing into the Cardinal’s back while he was turned around. He turned, afraid that the culprit would be one of the unkind siblings, but instead he saw you giggling at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief. You had been incredibly nice to him, so he knew you didn’t mean anything malicious by it. He picked it up off the ground, inspecting it and seemingly approving of your design before tucking it away into the pocket of his cassock.

You grinned, wondering if he was going to be a little fucking creep about it later. The image of poor Copia clutching that paper and furiously masturbating to the thought of you had you rubbing your thighs together under your desk. But no, he would never. You could tell he was far too shy and ashamed to do that sort of thing, no matter how much he wanted to.

Copia was reading from the book once more, saying something about Latin prayers that should be said before and during sex rituals, and how you can also commit the sin of lust and dedicate it to Satan as an offering. Suddenly, you were so curious, so interested, so you raised your hand to ask a question.

“S-si, yes, you?” The Cardinal pointed to you.

“So…” You tilted your head, playing dumb. “So any two people can commit any sin of lust and use it as an offering to Satanas?” You asked.

“Well, yes-” The man started but you cut him off.

“So, just take you and I for instance.” You continued, pretending to not quite understand, relishing in the way Copia stiffened at the mention of you and him together. “Like, if we committed the sin of lust together, not just through the actual act of sex, but through other lustful activities, then we could also dedicate those to Satan?”

“Y- ehm- w- i- eh- Si, I- I mean, yes, si. That would- that would be, eh, that would be completely, eh, valid.” The poor man struggled, nodding quickly with wide eyes and a tense jaw, his hands clasped in front of him.

You nodded slowly in understanding, pretending to soak in his answer. “So oral activities can be just as effective when making an offering?” You pushed.

“Y-yes, Sorella.” The Cardinal nodded, subconsciously reaching up to tug at his collar. Satan, that slutty high-neck collar of his, he was practically asking for it. Copia reached over to the pitcher of ice water on the desk, pouring himself a glass and downing a few gulps before refilling it and drinking some more, his throat suddenly dry.

“Oh, alright, thank you Cardinal. I wasn’t sure if our Dark Lord had a preference as to where the… you know, ejaculate goes.” You stated simply, punctuating your sentence with another wet pop from your lollipop.

Copia sputtered at that, coughing and choking on his water.

“Cardinal!” You stood, worriedly rushing to his side and patting him on the back. “Are you alright, Cardinal?”

“Si, si…” He cleared his throat, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, finding it difficult to meet your gaze.

“Is there anything this guy is good at? Where’d they even find him?” Rob laughed, leaning back in his seat and shaking his head.

“Trash can, maybe? ‘Cause he’s a rat.” Emily suggested, causing several siblings to cover their mouths and stifle laughter.

You rubbed soothing circles on Copia’s back, and once you were sure he was okay, you sat back down at your desk once more so he could finish up the lesson. The rest of it was pretty straight forward, mostly just certain prayers for sex rituals which he tested the class on. You got every question correct, the other students did mediocre, and both Emily and Rob got everything wrong because they were stupid fucking dumbasses who didn’t pay attention in class.

You couldn’t help but turn to them, holding your hand up in the shape of an L on your forehead. Yeah yeah, like in the Smash Mouth song. You just had to rub it in, especially when they were so ruthless to Copia, calling him a loser every chance they got, even though he was fluent in Latin and they sucked ass.

Emily only averted her gaze and crossed her arms, cheeks burning with embarrassment, while Rob pouted at you and passed Emily a note to pass to you.

You rolled your eyes, opening the note and scoffing as you read it.

Hang out after class, hottie?

You scratched a quick ‘no thx!’ onto the paper before crumpling it and throwing it back to him with a little smile that verged on passive aggressive. Rob opened the note and grinned, shrugging it off and not taking it to heart. You were just so pretty and adorable, so you never came off as bitchy when you did things like this.

Facing forward again, you caught Copia watching you and you gave him a little reassuring wink that had his cheeks heating up as he scratched the back of his neck.

A small endearing smile pulled at the Cardinal’s lips. You were such a little firecracker, not caring what anyone else thought. You were so confident, unlike him, and it gave him a sort of satisfaction- one that he wasn’t even sure he deserved- seeing you give your friends a little taste of their own medicine; avenging him in a sense. It was nice knowing he had someone in his corner. Hell, not just anyone, but the most gorgeous sister in the whole ministry.

After class was dismissed, everyone filtered out, immediately clumping into groups and gossiping about Copia. His name could be heard amongst overlapping conversations and sneers as the siblings exited the classroom. You hung back, strolling over to the Cardinal as he sat at the large black wooden desk, deep in thought as he slouched into the chair with eyes closed.

You took a seat right on the desk, getting his attention by gentle brushing your foot over his knee. The poor thing jumped, startled, his wide gaze meeting yours. You noticed the way his odd eyes flicked down to your thighs as you were perched on the desk, the way your little skirt rode up just enough to tease.

Still licking your lollipop, you studied him for a moment, considering him carefully, making him sweat under your silent inspection.

“You know, you’d make a good one.” You remarked, gesturing at him with your candy.

“A.. eh.. a lollipop?” He asked timidly, tilting his head in confusion.

“No, silly, a teacher.” You giggled. “But maybe that too.” You added nonchalantly, causing the man to stiffen, his breath catching in his throat. You bit into the hard candy, then, breaking the heart in two, before holding the stick out to Copia so he could have the other half. With reddened cheeks and a shaky exhale, he took it into his mouth, and you made sure to accidentally brush your finger against his chin as you pulled your hand away. The air was thick between the two of you, but without another word, you were hopping off the desk, grabbing your book bag, and leaving.

Copia leaned back in the ornate black wooden chair, sighing deeply and staring up at the ceiling. You truly confused him; you were so kind yet you made him so incredibly nervous. As he sucked on the rest of your lollipop, the thought of sucking your saliva off it had him letting out a little stifled groan, the realization dawning on him that this is how you would taste: like a sweet cherry candy. He shook his head, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling like a disgusting perverted weirdo as he felt his pants tightening. He abruptly stood, opting to straighten up the classroom and head back to his office.

You, on the other hand, were sauntering down the hall with a skip in your step, waving to people you knew as you passed them. Satan, you were in such a good mood. Apparently, tormenting shy little rat men was one of your new favourite pastimes. You crunched the rest of your lollipop, teeth shattering the candy into sharp shards. Your tongue swiped over your red stained lips, longing to share sticky cherry kisses with your Cardinal. And you would; all in due time.

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

Taglist: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh @rubyserpentine @ramblingoak @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @angelconservation @yourlocalghouleh @gh0sty6 @nikolaiology @thenick100 @mothsdraw @ivyanddaisies @gothdaddyissues @moonlight-fern @copiaslittleratty @nocturnal-birb @creepyalbatross @lightbluuestars @delta-is-here @1kirby1 @darthcringe @kyberj @esmiephan

[cheynovak]

Healing Waters - pt 3

Characters: Azriel x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Azriel is sent by Rhysand to the Spring Court to investigate Tamlin's erratic behavior. While spying in the woods, he comes across Y/N, an Illyrian female bathing under a waterfall. Intrigued by her beauty and shocked to see the scars where her wings should have been, he is immediately captivated.

Warnings: Hurt, pain, anger, nudity, spying, aggression, ...

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own fanfiction, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Part 3/?

* Published September 6th 2024 *

--

** Y/N's POV **

With a deep, begrudging sigh, I accepted the High Lord’s decision to stay the night. There was no point in fighting it; I knew Tamlin's rage wouldn’t calm anytime soon. The last thing I needed was to face him again while he was still in that beastly form. The young warrior beside me seemed to relax slightly, though the tension hadn’t completely left him. I glanced at him, my curiosity piqued despite myself.

“I’m not willing to talk,” I said flatly, making it clear that I wasn’t here for pleasantries.

Rhysand, to his credit, didn’t press further. He merely gave a nod and gestured to the boy next to me. “Azriel, take her to her room,” he said. “Let her rest.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he nodded and motioned for me to follow. I kept a few paces behind him, watching the way he moved with such silent grace. He was dangerous, that much was clear, but there was something more. A quiet strength. And something else I couldn’t quite place.

We walked through the halls in silence, and when he finally opened the door to the room they had prepared for me, I froze.

I had never seen anything like it. The room was large, the walls a soft, calming shade of blue that seemed to reflect the twilight outside. The bed was massive, draped in rich fabrics I had never even imagined owning. A balcony with large glass doors opened to a stunning view of the city below, sparkling lights reflecting off the Sidra River. Everything about this place seemed impossibly beautiful, impossibly peaceful.

I stepped cautiously toward the window, peering out at the city. “Where are we?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Azriel’s voice came from behind me, quiet but steady. “Velaris.”

“Velaris…” I repeated, tasting the unfamiliar word on my tongue. The city of starlight, the court’s hidden gem. I had heard whispers of it once long ago, but I never thought it could be real. Not after all I had seen in this world. Not after I searched for it, begged our High lord, Rhysand's father to help me, to grand me refugee in his land.

Then, as if on instinct, Azriel asked a question that startled me. “Where did you used to live?”

The answer slipped from my lips before I had time to stop it. “Hewn City.”

I immediately regretted it. A piece of my past, unguarded and laid bare. I braced myself for more questions, but none came. He simply nodded, his face unreadable, and left without another word.

The door closed behind him, and I was left alone in this room that felt too big, too warm. I stood by the window for a long time, staring out at the sparkling city below, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirl within me—wonder, disbelief, and a familiar ache of something I hadn’t felt in years.

For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know what to do next.

** Azriel's POV **

As I walked back to Rhysand, my mind was racing, but I kept my expression neutral, unwilling to let the confusion or frustration show. When I reached him, he was leaning casually against a wall, though I could sense the weight of his thoughts behind his calm demeanor.

"Did you ever saw anything like this?" I asked, my voice low, not wanting to make a spectacle of my unease.

Rhysand’s eyes flicked to mine, and I knew he understood what I meant. He sighed softly, shaking his head. “No,” he said, his voice heavy. “We know of females being clipped, but I’ve never seen wings completely taken off like that.”

The memory of her back—those scars, the empty space where her wings should have been—flashed in my mind again, and a knot of anger twisted in my chest. No one deserved that, least of all an Illyrian who had already been cast out of everything we were. It wasn’t just cruelty; it was a calculated destruction of something vital, a punishment beyond pain.

“She lived in Hewn City,” I added, still trying to wrap my mind around her admission.

Rhysand’s brows furrowed, his expression darkening with confusion and intrigue. “An Illyrian in Hewn City? That’s… unusual.”

Unusual was an understatement. The Hewn City was no place for anyone like her. I’d seen the darkest corners of that court, but how had she survived? Who had she been there, and what had she endured? The questions swirled, but I kept them to myself. Rhysand already knew I was wondering, even if I didn’t voice it.

Rhys pushed off the wall, his expression shifting to something more determined. “I’ll hit the books,” he said, already thinking ahead. “There has to be something—records, mentions, something to explain what happened to her.”

He paused for a moment, considering me. “In the meantime, I want you to stay with her in the House of Wind. This place will keep her from running off. I need to know more about her, about what happened, and I doubt she’ll stay willingly.”

I nodded, unsurprised by his request. I didn’t mind staying close to her. Something about her… I couldn’t shake it. Not just the mystery, but the raw strength, the fire I saw in her eyes even as she lashed out at me. It was as if, despite everything she’d endured, she was still fighting.

“I’ll stay,” I said, already anticipating the sleepless nights ahead. “But I doubt she’ll talk.”

Rhysand smirked, though his eyes remained serious. “She doesn’t have to. She’ll slip, eventually. Everyone does.”

I nodded, but part of me doubted it. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to slip—or if I wanted to uncover the truth on my own.

As I turned to leave, Rhysand called out after me, “Keep an eye on her, Az."

I didn’t need the reminder, but I didn’t argue.

The truth was, I’d been keeping an eye on her since the moment I saw her in that forest, and I didn’t think I’d be able to stop even if I wanted to.

** Y/N's POV **

I felt his presence long before he knocked—Azriel. His aura was unmistakable, like a shadow slipping through the cracks of the door. When he finally entered, his movements were as silent as ever, his expression unreadable.

“I brought some clothes,” he said quietly, holding up a dark blue nightgown that looked far too elegant for someone like me. “You might want to change before dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered, turning my back to him, arms crossed. I could feel his gaze linger for a moment, but he said nothing in return. Instead, he gently laid the gown on the bed before leaving as silently as he’d come.

I stood there for a long time, staring at the beautiful fabric, feeling stubborn and defiant. There was no way I’d go down there. No way I’d let them think I was going to play along with this. I’d been through too much to just fall in line because a High Lord and his silent shadowsinger told me to.

But then… the smell of food drifted up the stairs, winding its way under the door like a taunt. My stomach growled loudly in protest, reminding me how long it had been since I’d eaten anything worthwhile.

Cursing under my breath, I grabbed the gown and slipped it on. It fit perfectly, the soft fabric cool against my skin. I hated that it was so comfortable, hated that it felt like I was falling into a life I didn’t belong to.

When I finally made my way down to the dining area, I spotted Azriel standing by the window, his back to me, wings slightly flared as if he was on alert even in this peaceful place.

For the first time, I truly looked at him. His back was broad, his form rigid and strong beneath his Illyrian leathers, muscles tensed as if they were carved from stone. His thighs, encased in the tight, worn leather, looked unyielding, powerful. And then… his wings.

Gods, those wings.

They were massive and dark, veined with strength and grace, so unlike the memories of the wings I once carried. They seemed alive, every inch of them humming with silent power. The way they shifted slightly as he breathed, their sheer presence… it was impossible not to admire them. To be in awe of them.

I tore my gaze away, feeling something strange stir in my chest. Annoyance, frustration, admiration… I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to think about it.

I walked into the room, the soft fabric of the gown brushing against my legs as I approached the table. Azriel’s head turned slightly at the sound, and for a moment, I thought I saw the corner of his lips twitch—just barely, almost as if he’d been expecting me all along. But he said nothing, just moved to pull out a chair for me.

I hesitated, but hunger outweighed my pride.

As I sat down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching me. Not with the same intensity as before, but with quiet observation. As if every move I made was being carefully cataloged, filed away in that silent, unreadable mind of his.

As Azriel turned to face me, my breath caught. My eyes landed on the siphons scattered across his body, glowing softly like jewels of power. I started to count them, my mind racing. One… two… three…

Seven.

My eyes widened slightly, the realization settling in. Seven siphons. I had never heard stories of warriors who wielded such immense power, let alone seen one in person. If he had seven, he must be more than just a skilled warrior—he had to be one of the most powerful Illyrians in existence.

He noticed me staring and raised an eyebrow, glancing down at himself as if to see what had caught my attention. “What?” he asked, his voice quiet but probing, like he was trying to unravel whatever thoughts were running through my head.

I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I was in awe of his strength, of the sheer raw power I could feel radiating off him. That would mean giving away too much, and I wasn’t about to let him have the satisfaction.

So instead, I bit back my admiration and smirked, crossing my arms. “Overcompensating, are we?” I nodded toward the glowing blue siphons on his hands and shoulders, feigning indifference.

His lips twitched at my remark, a flicker of amusement in his otherwise stoic face. “If I were,” he said, his voice smooth, “I’d need a lot more than seven.”

The comeback was so dry and unexpected that I almost laughed, but I quickly masked it with a huff, rolling my eyes. He might have caught me off guard, but I wasn’t about to let him think he had the upper hand.

Still, a part of me couldn’t help but marvel at him. Seven siphons… and the calm, quiet confidence he carried with them.

He was a lot different then the Illyrians I once knew.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @sidthedollface2

[daytaker]

The Boys Roleplay As Themselves

mammoney: (This is a CLOSED scenario for me and my bros! Y'all can read it if you want to though. I'm gonna kick things off! @Lucifer @L3V1 @stn @AsmoBaby @Beelzeburger @Belphie) 8 ♡ DDSimeon and 7 others

mammoney:  It was 11 PM, and the Devildom was sparkling. Thousands of demons were lined up outside the hottest club south of Antarctica: Mammonteque. At the front of the line stood six of the most powerful, most intimidating, and most attractive demons you’ve ever seen, and even though the club didn’t open until midnight, the bouncer stepped aside and let them in.

“What? That’s so unfair!” shouted the demon behind them. 

But the bouncer shook his head, unmoved. “Orders from the top,” he said. Then, smirking, he added, “Clearly you didn’t recognize those guys. Must be embarrassing for you.”

Inside the club, the demons, who were all dressed in suits with boas, sunglasses, and fedoras, looked around. Just as they expected, this place was opulence itself. Golden fountains spouting gold-flake infused water. A gold disco ball hanging from the ceiling. Even the floor was made of intricately carved gold tiles.

“Obviously, Mammon is even wealthier than last time we stopped by,” said the oldest demon, looking around over his sunglasses. He quickly put them back on because the glow from the gold was too intense for him to handle.

“Wow, I never would have guessed Mammon would be as good at interior design as I am, but he proved me wrong!” said another of the demons. He was wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a bright pink feather boa, and his fedora was covered in sequins.

Another of the demons was already stuffing his face at the buffet. Luckily, the wily Mammon had seen this coming and installed a machine that pumped out an unlimited supply of cheeseburgers.

“Seeing how successful Mammon is makes me proud to have him for a big brother,” said a demon with blue hair and a Ruri-chan body pillow.

“And speak of the devil,” the oldest said, smiling as he looked over at the entrance. 

A stretch-limousine painted gold pulled up to the front of the club. Demons began to scream and cheer as the door opened. Out stepped Mammon, who looked even more handsome than usual. You-Know-Who was clinging to his arm, staring up at him like he was the greatest being in all three worlds.  6 ♡ AsmoBaby and 5 others

stn: As Mammon approached the entrance to his club, the six demons in attendance greeted him with the coolness one might expect from Hell’s most corrupt oligarchs. The identities of these demons were as follows:

Lucifer: former angel, Avatar of Pride, traitor to the Celestial Realm, now the right-hand demon to and a massive simp for Diavolo: former ruler of the Devildom; magnanimous and crafty, with a tendency to act far stupider than he truly is Leviathan: gamer, miserable to be out in public, suffering a migraine and angry that he’s missing the latest episode of his favorite magical girl anime Asmodeus: party devil, narcissist, and self-proclaimed cutest demon in the Devildom Beelzebub: gluttonous gym rat with a heart of gold and a stomach of lead, and Belphegor: who was asleep.

Mammon himself was the Avatar of Greed, and as such, he lacked any ability to control his need to amass material wealth. This being the case, he had recently upset the political order of the Devildom with a massive coup, ousting the far more competent Diavolo from autocratic power in favor of the corrupt cabal now gathered together in this gaudy anteroom.

Mammon looked at his guests while You-Know-Who wandered off, searching for somewhere, anywhere, that didn’t hurt to look at.

“Somebody’s missin’,” observed the club owner.

“A very astute observation, Young Master,” said Mammon’s butler, Barbatos, condescendingly. He had come with the deed to the Demon Lord’s castle. “You may have forgotten, but your dear brother Satan declined your offer to participate in your sham of a government, citing the proven incompetence of yourself and your brothers as the reason.”

“Oh, right,” Mammon said with chagrin. “Damn that Satan, always stickin’ to his principles instead of sellin’ out like the rest of us clowns. Hey, where’d You-Know-Who go?”

“Ah,” said Barbatos with the nod of a man forced to act as the bearer of bad news. “That noble personage appears to have fled. It seems your company became too odious to tolerate.”

“That can only mean one thing,” Mammon said, his eyes widening as the realization struck him. “You-Know-Who ran off to find Satan, since he’s obviously the better catch.” 2 ♡ LordDiavolo and Belphie

L3V1: Or so he thought. Little did Mammon realize that You-Know-Who wasn’t remotely interested in Satan. Instead, the unassuming third-born got a message on his DDD. Stealing away from the crowd, he opened up the text. It read:

“Levi, I think you know who this is. I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long. But you know it was always you. Come find me where we shared our first kiss.”

mammoney: (What the hell do you mean your first kiss???) 4 ♡ Belphie and 3 others

L3V1: (I didn’t interrupt you, asshole!)

Levi gripped his DDD with newfound resolve. He had no interest in the political machinations of his brothers and Diavolo. That part of the plot was boring and honestly too high stakes for what was supposed to be a story about a nightclub. So, slipping away from the others, Levi sneaked out through the back exit and ran for the field of flowers where he and You-Know-Who had shared a few stolen moments of tenderness. 1 ♡ LordDiavolo

Belphie: Poor Levi. He didn’t even realize that the text was sent by Solomon, who was out to troll him. As Leviathan ran off to meet with his only true love (the bitter feeling of disappointment), the youngest of the brothers yawned and looked around, assessing the situation. 

He was at a luxurious club, owned and operated by his scummy brother Mammon. He was in the company of his brothers, minus Satan and now Levi, and Diavolo and Barbatos were there too. You-Know-Who might have been there for a minute or two, but they were long gone by now, and there were hundreds of screaming demons in line, hoping for entrance to the club.

“Maybe we should have our political talks somewhere less noisy,” Belphie suggested. It was a very reasonable suggestion, so none of the other demons could really argue with him.

The seven demons piled into the golden limo outside the entrance and drove away to a less obnoxious scene. 2 ♡ stn and Beelzeburger

AsmoBaby: Except, oh no!!! The limo ran over a bunch of tacks and the tires deflated before they could get very far from the club! They had no choice but to come back. Besides, Asmodeus hadn’t gotten the chance to greet the crowds, and who knows what kind of chaos it would cause if the people learned their idol had left without offering them so much as a wave and heart fingers?

“Asmo! Asmo! Asmo!” chanted the crowd as the demons climbed back out of the limo.

“Hello, everyone!” cried Asmo with an adorable grin, waving back to the demons. They cheered more wildly than ever! Some of them even fainted when he made heart fingers. Demons all over were pulling out their DDDs and snapping photos of the most beautiful demon to ever walk the streets of hell. 2 ♡ LordDiavolo and mammoney

Beelzeburger: Beelzebub was still eating at the unlimited cheeseburger machine. He was enjoying himself. Every time I swallowed a cheeseburger, another one appeared in my hands and I ate that one too. They had relish and pickles and tomatoes and onions and mustard and ketchup on them, and I drooled just thinking about it. But not for long, because I didn’t have to think about it for more than a second or two before another cheeseburger materialized in my hands. I kept eating the cheeseburgers for the rest of the night and well into the morning. 1 ♡ Belphie

mammoney: (Beel, this was supposed to be in the third person!) 1 ♡ L3V1

Beelzeburger: (Oh, right. Sorry. I got a little caught up in my character.) 1 ♡ Belphie

monSOLO: After pulling that prank on Levi, Solomon met up with You-Know-Who at their planned rendezvous point. 

“It looks like the Devildom is entering some pretty politically tumultuous waters,” Solomon said with a chuckle. “Perhaps we’d be better off returning to the human world for the time being.”

Having agreed to this, Solomon and You-Know-Who clasped hands and vanished from the Devildom for at least the next six months or so.

mammoney: (??? What? This was a brothers only event!)

monSOLO: :) 

mammoney: (I’m retconning that whole bit. Somebody else go while I figure out how to delete it.) 1 ♡ stn

stn: Meanwhile, at the House of Lamentation…

Satan assessed the political machinations of his brothers as logically as he could. He knew that Mammon had no real interest in power; he wanted the glamor, not the responsibility. So who could possibly be the mastermind behind the acquisition of power by the second born?

It was all too obvious.

Lucifer had been playing everyone for fools–the contract lawyers of the Devildom, his brothers, even Lord Diavolo himself. Only Satan, ever wary of Lucifer’s intentions, was able to see past his lies.

Gathering together the power of all thirty-nine of his cat familiars, Satan stood at the window facing the Mammonteque club and uttered a curse so foul and forbidden that I dare not repeat it here. And at the nightclub several miles away, Lucifer dropped to the ground, an empty husk. 2 ♡ Belphie and L3V1

Belphie: “Lucifer, no!” cried Diavolo. Giant tears flooded down his face as he clutched the body of his beloved advisor and probable traitor.

“Rip,” said Levi, who had returned to the club after realizing no one was waiting for him at the field of flowers. “Rest in pieces, big bro.”

“Who could have done this?” sobbed Lord Diavolo.

“I have no idea,” said Belphie, who had an idea. But he wasn’t about to sell out his fellow Anti-Luciferian. 2 ♡ Beelzeburger and stn

Lucifer: How long do you intend to embarrass yourselves like this?

AsmoBaby: (OOC comments are in brackets, Lucifer~) 3 ♡ Belphie and 2 others

Lucifer:  Why have I been killed off after being implicated as the mastermind behind a coup to remove Lord Diavolo from power?

Belphie:  (¯\_(ツ)_/¯) 2 ♡ stn and monSOLO

stn: (I didn’t realize creativity was forbidden in this home.)

stn: (I suppose it’s my own fault for not assuming my writing would face unfair censorship.) 1 ♡ AsmoBaby

mammoney: (Okay, listen, I’ve been real tolerant of you all bunglin’ around and makin’ this whole damn activity a laughing stock, EVEN after I went out of my way to make all your characters look cool, but Lucifer, are you really gonna torch this whole thing just because of somethin’ like that?) 4 ♡ L3V1 and 3 others

Lucifer: A one month ban from Devilgram for all of you seems like a reasonable punishment. 1 ♡ monSOLO

Belphie: Are you serious?

AsmoBaby: This is so unfair! I didn’t even write any of the seditious stuff! 1 ♡ Beelzeburger

L3V1: Lmao I hate this family… 3 ♡ stn and 2 others

stn: @Belphie, would you meet me in the observatory? I have something I’d like to discuss with you. 1 ♡ Belphie

Lucifer: If I catch any of you on Devilgram within the next thirty days, I will suspend your account indefinitely. @mammoney @L3V1 @stn @AsmoBaby @Beelzeburger @Belphie 1 ♡ monSOLO

LordDiavolo: What a shame. I was enjoying the story.

(Cross-posted on AO3.)

[cyliegvf]

Wine Drunk (josh x f!reader)

Summary: Your first night at home with Josh during his break from tour

Warning: 18+ MINORS DNI!! mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), cockwarming (slightly)

Please let me know if I've gotten anything!

Word count: 4.9k

Disclaimer: this was started before we found out about poor Joshua's ear :( but I wanted to still post it anyway! ALSO this is VERY lightly proof read so please be aware that there could be some very bad misspelling and grammar!

It really came at the perfect time. The weather in Nashville had finally started to change into the crisp cool autumn that you loved so much. And today was a rainy one which you loved even more. The last few days before Josh’s break you kept imagining the two of you lounging on the couch all day snuggled up in your favorite blankets and tangled limbs as you rewatched all of your favorite films.

It was rare that the boys would have a significant break during tour. But luckily this time around management was able to score a ten day break for them during the month of October. Josh and the boys had been on the road for what seemed like forever and with the practically nonexistent time you had off work, it made it really hard to just get up and fly to God knows what city to see a show. So needless to say, you were really happy that they had this break. They needed it just as much as you did. 

Now you were sitting at the kitchen island sipping your chai counting down the hours until Josh was supposed to be home while staring at the computer screen that showed you a minute-to-minute update on Josh’s flight. “Oh come on” you whispered to yourself once you realized how silly you felt doing this. You got up from the barstool to put your now empty mug in the sink and headed to your room to take a shower and get ready for the day. 

Stepping into the scalding hot water you giggled to yourself. The thought of how Josh would always complain about the temperature like an old man whenever the two of you would shower together ran through your mind. You practically jumped out of your skin when Josh’s bottle of body wash fell onto the tile floor of the shower. You bent down to pick it up but before putting it back in its spot on the shelf you squeezed some onto your loofah. The smell overtook your senses as you started rubbing it across your skin. This was a thing you did often when he was gone. The smell made you feel the slightest bit closer to him and made your bed sheets smell like him again. It almost made you sad for a moment before you remembered that he’d be home in your arms by dinner time. Your mind filled with the thought of being able to run your fingers through his hair, and see his beautiful brown eyes that sparkled when he’d smile. And that smile, good lord did you miss that smile. The way his perfectly plump and pink lips would spread just enough so you could see the slight gap between his two front teeth and the single dimple that graced his left cheek. 

“I believe that's my soap, little missy.” Your head whipped around faster than lightning to see the short giggly man with a mop of curls leaning against the doorframe of your bathroom smiling at you. 

“Oh my god!” you screamed as you flung open the glass shower door and charged full force into Josh’s chest causing a small grunt to fall from his mouth. With soap suds still covering your body, Josh wrapped his arms around your waist capturing you in a loving embrace.

“Happy to see me, I presume?”

“What are you doing home so early? I mean I-I’m not complaining but-”

“I got an earlier flight. I wanted to get home to my girl.” he said grinning down at you. You couldn’t help the smile strewn across your face while finally being able to look Josh right in the face, not a silly phone or computer screen. 

He leaned down and whispered in your ear “You’re getting the floor all wet…”

“Oh shit. You’re right. I-I’m sorry I just got excited.” you say looking down at the puddle of water and soap around your feet. Glancing up at Josh you smile “Will you join me?” you ask as you make your way back into the stream on hot water. 

“I’d love to.” he sighs “I need to get all the airport off me.” Josh strips off his clothes and you turn your head to the feeling of a cool rush of air on your back when he opens the door to the shower. With tired eyes and a dopey smile, he walks up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your shoulder. “Hot as ever.” he jokes.

“Who me or the water?”

“Mmm. Yes.” Josh presses a sweet kiss to your temple before pulling away and grabbing your shampoo off the shelf. “Can I wash your hair?”

“Mmm, please. I would love that.” you smile back at Josh seeing him in all his glory. His hair is longer now, save for the shaved sides that he recently decided to bring back, and a few curls have started to stick to his forehead due to the humidity in the shower. You keep looking at him as he squeezes some of your shampoo into his hand and you can’t help but notice how his arms, stomach, and legs seemed to be a little more toned since you’d last seen him. 

“You’re staring.” he says, not even looking up at you as he rubs his hands together to get your shampoo all sudsy.

“No baby, I’m gawking.” He lets out a small laugh at your response. “You just look so good. I’ve missed looking at you.” 

“I could say the same, darling.” He winks. “Turn around for me mama.”

Feeling Josh’s hands on you again made you feel complete. Being apart from him for so long while he and the boys were out on tour was hard. Especially after you’d spent so much time together when the pandemic was in full swing and touring was not. It was a hard adjustment for everyone, not only you. Granted you had Jita to talk to and you knew she understood exactly what you were going through but it wasn’t the same without him in your bed every night. 

The two of you stayed in the shower for as long as possible before turning into prunes. Taking turns under the water to rinse off soap from your bodies and hair and sharing intimate kisses and looks. You were happy to be with him and simply feel his presence again, everything in the world felt right. 

By the time you and Josh got out of the shower and were dressed and ready for the day, it was lunchtime. You both made your way downstairs to get something ready to eat. When pulling the things for sandwiches from the fridge you heard the familiar crackle of the needle of your record player begin to play ‘Call Me’ by Aretha Franklin. Moments later you feel Josh’s hands snake around your waist before he whispers in your ear “Dance with me, mama.” You turn in his arms and he grabs your left hand in his right and pulls you away from the counter before placing his left hand on the small of your back, pressing you into him. 

You could stay like that forever. Your head tucked into Josh’s chest, inhaling his signature sent with every breath, instantly calming you. You eventually pull your head from his chest to look him in the eyes but catch a glimpse of his bags still sitting by the door.

“We need to unpack your bags.” you say causing Josh to look at you with furrowed brows.

“S’odd thing to be thinking about right now.” 

“I know, but seeing them sitting by the door makes me think you’re leaving again. And that's the last thing I want right now.”

“Oh, baby.” Josh frowns, bringing his hand to your jaw and rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” he places a tender kiss between your eyebrows causing you to melt right back into his chest and hold him tighter. 

“Good.” is all you say before the song fades out and into the next. “You hungry?”

“Mmmm, famished.” 

You pull away “Well there isn’t much since a certain someone disrupted my plans for the day and I didn’t get the chance to go out and get things for dinner.” you say jokingly “So sandwiches will have to do for lunch, but what do you want to do for later? We could order in but I really wanted to make you a home-cooked meal tonight.”

“I could run out and get whatever you needed for dinner.” Josh offers.

“Mmm that would be perfect.” you say standing on your tippy toes to peck a quick kiss on his perfectly pink lips. “I’ll give you the list. Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you, lover.” He lays a light smack to your ass before exiting the kitchen to go grab and unpack his bags.

---

After a wonderful dinner and hearing lots of Josh’s tale of the road. You both decided to have a movie night.

Sitting on the couch with your lover in an old t-shirt and some pajama shorts and Josh in his sweats and shirt, you played with his hair as he laid his head in your lap. With a big bowl of popcorn, your two wine glasses, and your second empty bottle of wine on the coffee table you couldn’t think of a time within the past few months that you had felt this happy and content. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, mama?” You didn’t even realize Josh had been staring at you from his spot below you. You glance down at him and see the hazy smile strewn across his face. 

You giggle. “I sound like a broken record but I’m just really fucking happy you’re home.”

Josh reaches up and runs his fingers over your already blushing cheek. “Mmm me too, baby.” His fingers continue to trail down your neck making you snort a laugh and start to giggle. “You’re drunk aren’t you?” he says looking up at you with a giddy smile.

“M-maybe a little.” you say through little laughs. Wine was something that always made you a little giddy, but after sharing two full bottles with Josh you were definitely starting to feel its effects. 

You slowly calm down and notice Josh staring at you again. His eyes were droopy but you could clearly tell something was running through his mind. Suddenly you stop all movements as if you were a statue in a museum. “What?” you say with wide eyes.

“You’re just so beautiful.” Josh sits up and places a slow loving kiss on your lips. He pulls away, but only the slightest bit. You can still feel his breath fanning across your lips. “Mmm you taste good.” he breathes out.

Suddenly, you feel the mood in the room shift and grow completely still. The tension between you two is so thick that it feels as though it's hard to breathe. You meet Josh’s eyes and brush your nose against his in a playful manner to break the tension before whispering “Make out with me Kiszka.” across his lips.

“Mmm gladly.” He gently grabs your face and connects your lips once again. This time with more passion. You brush your hand over the shaved side of his head before bringing it to the curls at the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss even further. You slightly tug at the roots forcing Josh to release a barely there grunt, making you smile against his lips. “Stop that.” you hear him murmur against you. 

“What? I thought you liked a little tugging.” you joke. 

“Oh I do.” he responds before grabbing your bottom lip with his teeth and releasing it with a pop. You throw your head back in laughter before collecting yourself and reconnecting your lips. Josh’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you hum as you let him in. He grazes the roof of your mouth before pulling away from you abruptly. You catch his eyes, you’re both already breathing heavily and without a word or breaking eye contact, he leans back and ushers you to straddle his lap. 

Once you’ve situated yourself on Josh all decorum, in every sense of the word, is thrown out the window. Teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, and hands tangled in each other's hair while soft breathy moans are falling from the both of you. Josh starts trailing kisses from your lips to your cheek, across your jaw, and down your neck before finding the spot behind your ear that he knows will cause you to fall into pieces. A moan louder than you expected falls from your mouth actually causing you to jump a little and a small “oop” falls from your mouth. You hear Josh chuckle and feel him smile against your neck before he continues down to the loose hem of your shirt.

“J-Josh, baby.” you sigh out trying to get his attention. 

Nothing.

“Josh.” you tug at his hair to try and get him to look at you. 

A short “mmm” is the only response you get as he continues to leave open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your neck.

“Joshua.” you grab the sides of his head to pull him away from you so you can look him in the eyes.

“W-what?!” He looks startled. You didn’t mean to scare him, but the look on his face made a giggle bubble in your chest and you held it back as best you could. 

You stare at him for a moment before smiling and saying “Take me to bed, baby. Please.” Josh springs into action. Wrapping his hands around your thighs before launching off the couch with a big grunt. 

“Okay, grandpa.” you laugh into his neck.

“Hey now. Cut me some slack, I’ve really been working that tambourine lately.” A huge belly laugh springs from you and Josh trudges forward, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom of your home. 

You feel the soft comforter of your bed hit the back of your legs as Josh lays you down. Before Josh has the chance to fully make his way on top of you, you grab the bottom of his shirt and tug lightly. He looks down at your hand, “Oh you want this off?” he smirks back up at you. All you do is nod shyly. “Come on mama. Don’t get shy on me now.” He leans down to plant a kiss on your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” you grab his face and place a long, sloppy, wet lick up the right side before pulling back and laughing “Take this off. Now!” 

Josh sits back on his knees and yanks his shirt over his head before reaching for the bottom of your shirt. He looks at you with a grin on his face. All you do is nod and in a split second your shirt is over your head and is being thrown to the other side of the room. Josh leans back down and starts kissing down your chest to the swell of your now-exposed breasts. He takes your right nipple in his mouth and pinches the other between his forefinger and thumb. Moans of his name are falling from your lips like a fountain, encouraging him to keep going. He continues his effort until your nipples are on the edge of being overstimulated before he starts kissing down your stomach. Josh glances up at you, not stopping his kisses when he feels your stomach start to vibrate against his lips. “What's so funny?” You can tell by the uptick in his voice that Josh is laughing along with you.

“Y-your mustache, it tickles.”

“I thought you’d be used to it by now.” he smiles up at you.

“I-I know, it’s just- it's been so long since we’ve done this.” And it had. Sure you and Josh had phone sex on the regular when he was away, but without him being there you’d momentarily lost the sensorial familiarity of his facial hair and lips on your body.

“I know, mamas. But don’t you fret, we’ll definitely be making up for lost time these next few days.” He winks at you before bringing his lips to the waistband of your panties and kissing down over your still clothed clit. He glances up to ensure he has your undivided attention before grabbing your panties and shimmying them down your legs. 

He starts rubbing up your legs with the palms of his hands and planting open mouthed kiss from your ankle to your calves and finally landing at the tops of your thighs. You’re practically squirming under his touch, squeezing your legs together to dull the burning ache in your core. Softs moans are leaving your lips when you feel Josh pull your knees apart and start to kiss along the inside of your thighs, higher and higher but not reaching the stop where you need him most. You whisper out his name, getting him to look up at you. 

“What baby? What do you want?” He’s smiling at you. He knows exactly what you want but he wants you to say it. 

“Stop teasing me you little shit.” It comes out much more breathy than you had hoped. Completely giving away how much Josh was really affecting you right now. 

“Come on, mamas. Be sweet to me so I can be sweet to you.” Josh whispers against the inside of your thigh before coming up and sucking a dark hickey onto your hip bone. 

“Your mouth! God, Joshua, I want your mouth!” All regard for keeping yourself controlled is thrown out the window. 

Josh releases a small giggle. “Good girl.” Before you can even register the fact that he’s responded to you Josh is diving into you. The flat of his tongue swipes from your dripping hole to your clit in a slow, languid motion. A choked moan rips through the room when Josh wraps his lips around your bud and sucks it into his mouth. Your hand is pulling his hair at the crown of his head forcing a grunt from his mouth. 

While Josh was gone, you practically dreamt of this every night. He always knew how to bring you right to the edge and make your body buzz with only a single touch. But having him here now was otherworldly. Josh knew your body better than you did. Sometimes even, he’d randomly point out little beauty marks and scars on your skin that you didn’t even know existed, and it amazed you every single time that he paid that close attention. 

Your attention was drawn back to Josh when you noticed how he was not so subtly grinding his hips into the mattress. You smiled to yourself. The idea of Josh being just as needy as you right now for some reason made you feel giddy. “A little impatient are we?” You joked through bated breath.

He looked up at you and saw the devilish grin spread across your face. “Shut up.” he huffed out through a laugh. He flashed you the most gorgeous smile before he plunged his middle and ring finger into your dripping cunt. One of the most pornographic moans ripped through your body as you felt Josh start pumping his fingers in and out of you at an ungodly pace. You could barely hear the small chuckle Josh let out over the sounds of his fingers being coated in your slick and your heavy breaths and moans. “Fuck- Y/N you’re fucking soaking my fingers, baby.” Josh moaned out before he placed kitten licks against your clit. 

“Harder.”

“Mmm greedy little thing aren't you?” 

“Josh please, stop teasing.” you begged. Josh quickly got back to work, attaching his mouth to your clit and devouring you like he hadn’t had a meal in months. In seconds Josh was taking over your senses and you could feel the pressure in your stomach reach its highest peak. “J-Josh.” you moan out. “I’m so f-fucking close!” 

“I know, baby. Let go for me. Show me how much you really missed me.”

“Oh fuck! So much.” 

Seconds later you felt the rubber band in your stomach snap and the wave of pleasure crash over you. Your eyes clamp shut in pleasure and moans of Josh’s name and incoherent babble falls from your lips as your orgasm fills your senses. Your vision flashes white and the only sounds you can hear are the faint whimpers Josh is making. 

Slowly Josh ushers you back down to earth as your orgasm subsides and gently pulls his fingers from you. When you finally have the strength to open your eyes you’re met with Josh’s beautiful face smiling up at you. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?” He starts climbing up your body and gently places his fingers on your bottom lip. “Open.” he commands softly, and you oblige. He slowly pushes his fingers into your mouth and you wrap your tongue around them, tasting yourself. 

As Josh starts to pull his fingers from your mouth a giggle falls from your lips. He traces down your jaw and neck with his digits before smiling down at you and asking “You having fun, mama?” You just smile up at him and nod your head before pulling him down on top of you and littering his face and neck with open mouthed kisses. 

Suddenly, the thought pops into your brain. You pull away from Josh and look him in the eyes. “I can leave as many hickeys as I want!” you practically scream in his face out of pure excitement, squirming around just like a kid on Christmas morning. 

Throwing his head back in laughter, Josh looks down at you and through a chuckle, he says “Y-yeah. I suppose you can now with this long break.” 

You’re not quite sure how, it must have been all the excitement coursing through your veins, but you flip the two of you over so that you’re now straddling Josh’s hips. Your lips are on him in an instant, leaving dark purple marks all over his neck and chest. Slowly, you make it down to the patch of hair just below his navel and glance up at him. His cheeks are flushed, eyes blown out with lust, and lips so pick and plum it almost looks like they might explode off of his gorgeous face. You drag your hand over his jeans where you can clearly see how hard he already is before reaching up and popping the button and unzipping his zipper. Making eye contact with Josh, you smile and bite your lip as you pull his jeans and boxers down and off his legs. 

His cock springs free and rests hard and leaking on his abdomen. Crawling back over him after throwing his pants across the room you stop with your face inches from his throbbing cock. The whimpers falling from Josh’s lips make it even harder for you to control yourself. 

Looking up at him, you slowly drag your flattened tongue from his balls to the very tip of his cock before wrapping your lips around his head. Just the taste of him alone makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and start to bob your head up and down slowly. Moans of your name are the only thing coming from Josh’s mouth when you decide to bring your other hand to cup his balls. 

He throws his head back and through a breathy laugh Josh says “God I missed you so fucking much.” You hum around him before drastically changing your pace. Lewd sounds of your mouth around Josh and his moans are bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Pleasing him was one of the few things that brought you this much joy. Being able to see him falling apart for you, because of you was something that you’d never give up. 

Relaxing your throat as much as possible, you take Josh even further. A choked moan rips through Josh’s chest and his hips buck, forcing him even further down your throat. You try not to gag as you hold yourself down on him, so much so that your nose is brushing against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. You feel him twitch in your mouth before you pull off of him with a sloppy pop. 

Josh sees the string of drool that runs from your bottom lip to the tip of his cock and smiles. Wiping it away with the back of your hand and sitting back on your knees, you pause for a moment, taking him in. His body is already glistening with the thinnest layer of sweat, the way his chest is moving up and down as he tries to fill his lungs with as much air as possible, and the slight twinkle in his now fully dilated eyes.

Josh quickly notices how you’re squeezing your legs together to dull the burning ache in your core and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You’re so good to me.” 

“Just fuck me already Kiszka.” you say with a smile as you climb back on top of him.

“Yes ma’am.” he responds before flipping you over and situating himself between your legs. 

Josh takes himself in his hand before running the head of his cock through your folds. Positioning himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in all the way to the hilt. Moans fall from both of your lips and Josh runs his hands up and down your thighs, giving you time to adjust to him again. 

After being away from him for so long and missing him in this way you’ve become too needy to wait any longer so to signal that you’re ready for him to start moving you clench your pussy around him. A small whimper comes out of him and you smile to yourself before doing it again. Josh abruptly wraps his arms under your knees so that your hips are lifted off the bed before he starts his brutal pace. A yelp flies from your mouth as your head tips back in pleasure. It almost feels foreign to you. Josh is hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. An opened mouth smile is strewn across your face as Josh continues to repeatedly hit your g-spot. “That feel good, baby?” He asks through bated breath, and the cockiest smile you think you’ve ever seen that man wear. 

“Fuck, y-yes! Josh, baby you m-make me feel so f-fucking good!” Your words are being thrown off by how hard Josh is fucking into you, practically fucking you stupid. 

Unsurprisingly, the familiar feeling of your impending orgasm has already started to form in the pit of your stomach, and Josh can tell. 

“Shit- you’re squeezing me so fucking tight, mama.” he says through gritted teeth “Please cum for me. I won’t be able to last much longer, please.” Before you have the chance to respond Josh is dropping one of your legs to start rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit, doing everything he can to get you off. 

“Oh, fuck!” you scream out as you feel yourself start to gush around Josh, no doubt drenching the sheets beneath you. 

“Fuck! That's it. Good girl. Cum around my cock, just like that. Such a good fucking girl Y/N. So pretty for me.” You knew Josh right there with you, he always tended to ramble when he was about to orgasm. You felt Josh start to lose his rhythm and with a few more thrusts you could feel his warm, sticky cum fill you to the brim. 

Slowly bringing the both of you down, he let go of your other knee and leaned down on top of you. Grabbing your face in his hands he kissed you hard, only slightly pulling back to smile against your lips before placing a light peck to the tip of your nose. 

“Mmm, we should get wine drunk and do that more often.” he whispered.

You giggled. “Sounds like a plan. How does tomorrow night sound?” 

Josh smiles and places the softest kiss to your lips before he slowly starts to pull out. Before he gets the chance to make it too far you grab his hip. 

“No, stay.” you look at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster. “Please.”

Josh grins at you before silently ushering you to lay on your side so you’re face-to-face and pulling a blanket over the two of you. He wraps his arms around you and kisses you on the forehead before taking a big whiff of your hair.

“I’m so glad I’m home with you Y/N. I love you so much, baby.” he says after a few moments of silence. 

“I love you. And I’m glad you’re home as well.” You say with a smile. “This means I can start using my own body wash again and people can stop asking me why I smell like a man.” you giggle into his chest. 

“Mmm, we should get on that. Shower?”

“Already ready for another round?” you ask with a bit of shock in your voice.

He smiles down at you, “Like I said, mama. We’re making up for lost time.”

Tags: @sparrowofthedawnsworld

[https-furina]

22. “stop making me laugh!” with thoma

✎ my favourite distraction.

ft. thoma x gn!reader

prompt: "stop making me laugh!"

w.c. 600 words

content: fluff, established relationship, reader also works at the kamisato estate, they can't help but not be a cute couple at all times /j

a short laugh escapes your lips as you watch the pained face your boyfriend is making, mid-conversation to one of the kamisato clan's maids. he's sending you looks, his eyes darting over as if warning you to keep your mouth shut. his lower lip is tugged between his teeth, chewing at the plump flesh as a smile cracks on his face when the maid looks down to dig something out of her uniform pocket. you're waiting - albeit not so patiently - for your boyfriend to finish his clearly unamusing conversation with the maid, she's new and you can't exactly pinpoint her name in your mind anywhere.

thoma would be damned if he kept looking at you anymore, stifling a laugh as he strategically turns his back on you under the guise that he's dusting the vase beside him. it'd already be promptly dusted earlier this morning, by you nonetheless but the maid didn't need to know that. this isn't to say that either of you had habits of being unprofessional in the workplace in regards to your relationship together considering that you are colleagues but sometimes the stiff environment the other employees of the kamisato clan create needs lightening up a little. on a good day, you may catch lady ayaka or even lord ayato amused by your bickering, sending a look across the courtyard when thoma yells out in alarm when you splash him with soapy water.

the maid disappears after passing a key to thoma - the one you familiarly recognise as the one belonging to ayato's office - and he's quick to saunter over to you, pressing a firm kiss to your lips that you can't help but smile during as you let a hand wander into ginger locks.

"stop making me laugh!" thoma scolds, grinning as you give him one last peck, separating in order to be professional, "the poor girl looked so confused!"

you shrug, continuing to mop at the wooden floorboards the pair of you stand on - that wasn't why you was waiting on thoma but you figured you may as well get this chore done while you're at this part of the estate. thoma shakes his head at your carefree attitude, biting his lip as he watches you for a moment.

"do you need something? you're distracting me." you tease the tall ginger male, who lets out a scoff and flicks at your forehead with his pointer finger and thumb. you yelp, pouting as you puff your cheeks and rub at the spot in feigned pain.

"yes, you're supposed to have something for me," thoma rolls his eyes with a smile at your dramatic attitude, watching you pull out a neatly folded piece of paper - he's almost surprised she didn't fold it into origami again, "did she write everything down this time?"

"i made sure she did - i even went over the pantry with her." you beam, resting your chin on the top of the mop in your hands. thoma drowns in the colour of your eyes, wide and sparkling as you look at him. part of him wishes it wasn't work hours so he could pull you back to bed, face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as your hands run through his hair. he clears his throat suddenly, surprising you but he smiles to brush it off.

"look who's being the distracting one now," thoma wouldn't admit his previous thoughts but they linger in his mind, he's so close to grabbing your hand and whisking you away just to hear your laugh and suffocate in the scent of your perfume, "my favourite distraction."

© https-heizou 2023.

[celestialseawitch-ff]

🌹

Harry jolted up in bed and raced to the bathroom.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Potter?”

Harry bent over the toilet and was immediately sick. His vomit was black.

“Oh my god!”

“Stand back, Miss Granger,” Severus ordered calmly.

“We need to get him to St. Mungos.”

“No. They can’t help him. Let it out, Potter. You’ll be okay.”

Harry rested his head against the cool porcelain of the toilet and sobbed.

“Is he alright?” Hermione asked in a hush voice.

Snape nodded slowly. He handed Harry a goblet of water. Harry swished the water around in his mouth before spitting it back out into the toilet. He did it two more times before drinking the rest of the water down.

“I have some potions for you. Come.”

“You do?”

Harry allowed his professor to help him to his feet. He guided Harry to bed and tucked him under the covers. From the bedside table, he produced a few potion bottles.

“Drink.”

Harry glanced at the clock as he handed the final potion bottle back. “It’s eight hours.”

“What?” Hermione responded.

“We’ve been back in time for eight hours. That’s how long it would take before your soul would shift – that’s what you said. It’s my connection to Voldemort. Was it soul-based?”

Severus stared at Harry. He nodded once. “I believe so.”

“But it’s not gone now. Just shifted.”

“Whatever soul fragment that was inside of you is no longer the dark lord. From your reaction to the process, I would say whatever he left behind is gone and you’ve absorbed the residual magic.”

“Is that the- mist?” Hermione asked.

“Mist?” Harry asked and glanced down at himself.

“You’re sort of sparkling,” she told him. “Like when you cast a really powerful patronus.”

Harry looked down at his hands. “I don’t see it.”

“Neither do I,” Snape said, eyes on Hermione. “You can see magic? Magical Sense?”

Hermione blinked. “I don’t know what that is. I can see Harry’s magic – usually. Or feel it.”

Professor Snape blinked quickly. “Go to bed. It’s late.” He nodded at the bed he’d vacated.

“But-”

“-Go. I will watch over Mr. Potter.”

Hermione sighed but nodded. She went and got into the other twin bed.

“You knew this was going to happen,” Harry whispered almost an hour later.

Snape’s head shot up. Harry was still awake. He glanced across the room to confirm Hermione was asleep. He turned back to the boy.

“Excuse me?”

“You knew Voldemort’s connection was soul based. You knew this would happen.”

“I didn't know how you would react. As you can see, I didn't react the same.”

“Is that because he's evil?”

“The connection between the two of you was concentrated in your scar, a remnant of you surviving one of the darkest spells in the world. Moreover, it's against the nature of magic for two souls to exist in the same body – even the same souls to exist at the same time.”

“If two souls can't exist in the same body, then I couldn't have had Voldemort in my scar, right?”

“And yet? You regularly defy the laws of magic, Mr. Potter. Why would this be any different?”

“I do not.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You do. It's irritating.”

“Sorry,” Harry responded, not sounding sorry at all.

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

A Father's Resolve - Ch 9

Ingo returns after a decade - with two extra cars in tow. Years later, his kids are swallowed up by time in the same way he was. Will he be able to find them? Will they be able to make it out alive?

Word Count: ~3000

The twins wound their way through the Heartwood to hopefully find this Warden that they'd been told about. Their teams were trained up decently and they were having a grand time trying to write about Buneary. 

“Lookit her!” Akari squealed. “She's so cute!” She ruffled the soft down of the little rabbit she'd caught. It flicked its ear at her in annoyance. Rei did have to admit it was adorable, even if it had a horrible attitude. 

“I got that Silcoon we saw. I'd say let's see what this Warden wants and how to study Kleavor.” Rei tossed a ball in the air and caught it idly as his sister caught up to him on the dirt path, shaking the water from her shoes. She'd fallen in the stream trying to scramble back from a suddenly-livid Psyduck. 

“Fine.” 

Rei rounded the corner, seeing some man-made structures come up in his field of vision. A gateway appeared down the path, with some stone bowls carved from a large boulder in the middle of the arch. And in front of this stood a boy wearing soft pink and a hat that Rei could only describe as a cowboy hat. He was maybe ten with red curly hair and a stern expression on his young face, still trimmed with baby fat. 

Rei stared at the hat. He'd seen it before-

“That's Clay's hat,” Akari whispered to him in Unovan. “Remember fighting his Excadrill? That's totally it. Look at the gem.” She was right. The same green jewel set in the hat, square and sparkling, surrounded by gold trim on white leather. 

“Didn't… didn't Clay say his family was from another region? That they immigrated to Unova?” Rei murmured back. 

Akari simply nodded. 

This was getting weird. First their mother, now Clay's… grandfather? Great-grandfather? More generations? And he was younger than them! 

“I'm Lian, Warden of the Lord of the Woods, Kleavor. You're here to see the mighty Kleavor, ain't ya?” the boy called to them in greeting. Even his voice sounded like a younger version of Clay's! The boy crossed his arms, a smug look on his face. “I can see it on ya. You heard about his awesome power and now he's only become even more powerfully awesome.” He smirked into the crook of his elbow as the twins stepped up to him, finally. “That bolt of lightning charged him… maybe it was almighty Sinnoh's doing? Either way, as much as it pains me, I must turn you away.” 

“But we need to!” Akari blurted out. Lian's eyes flicked to her. He grinned slyly. 

“I must commend your passion, but unfortunately it is not safe. I have been given order by Irida to not let anyone see him right now. So back out now, lest you face the wrath of my Goomy.” 

“I accept,” Akari said before Rei could even think. 

“Akari-” 

“Back up.” She shoved him back and cleared a small space for a battle. Lian sighed and whistled. A small pokemon appeared from behind the stone bowls, a purple blob of a creature. Rei hadn't actually seen a Goomy before but he decided he needed to find one because this thing was perfect. A dopey smile graced what could be called its ‘face’  it had two small eyes and a big grin and it slowly trailed along and Rei needed to get a Goomy right now. 

“Goomy, let's try to ooze some sense into these interlopers!” Goomy gave a cry of challenge and oozed its way to the battlefield. 

Akari picked a ball carefully and tossed it out. Riptide, newly evolved, gave a small cry of its own. It stanced itself up, preparing for a long battle… 

That did not last long. 

Riptide did not take very long to tear through the small Goomy. It was clear that although the boy cared deeply for his partner, it was not very well-trained. He sagged a bit as he conceded defeat. “I still can’t let you through,” he sighed. “It is too dangerous. No one can get through to my Lord- Irida?” 

The twins turned to see the girl behind them, watching with wide, sad blue eyes. “Lord Kleavor is descended from a pokemon blessed by almighty Sinnoh itself. I did not want to have to throw up our hands and ask for help from an outsider but… every moment that he remains like this, the danger grows. If he hurts more people and pokemon, it may cause problems with the Diamond Clan and the Galaxy Team.” She paused, knitting her brows. “I hear that it was that bolt of strange lightning that changed him. Perhaps it was sent by that faulty god the Diamond Clan worships…?” Rei had to restrain himself from pointing out how stupid that sounded. “Regardless, do you both have any ideas how to help him? We care greatly for Kleavor; he means a great deal to our Clan. We do not want him to be hurt.” 

Rei glanced at his sister, who shrugged. It was obvious that they may be on their own with this one. It was hard to say what was wrong with him what they hadn’t even seen him yet. “We’ll figure something out,” was all Rei said. 

“Excellent!” Irida cut between the two and approached Lian, who still stood proud, even if Rei could now see the cracks in his small facade. He was just a boy with a big job he couldn’t handle by himself - and it tore him up on the inside. Rei could see how his eyes darted around, how they desperately scanned Irida’s face for some semblance of good news. How his small hands shook. “Lian and I will gather some of Kleavor’s favorite foods in an attempt to get close enough to make a proper offering. As for you, try to find a way to quell his frenzy, even if you must traverse every corner of Hisui!” 

The twins took that as a dismissal and nodded, turning and striding away. Once out of earshot, Rei asked Akari in Unovan, “What are we even supposed to do? I still don’t know what all this is about.” 

Akari debated as they snuck around the alpha Bibarel, staying quiet until they had passed by safely and were heading up Deertrack Heights. “Let’s ask Laventon. He’s a scientist, right? Maybe he’d have a clue.” 

—----------------------

Emmet shivered as he pulled his coat a little tighter around him. Why was the office so cold? He glanced up over the pile of paperwork he had in front of him, checking the face of the clock on the wall. The little train-shaped hand had a smokestack that pointed to the number five. It was already almost 6:30? Emmet leaned back in his chair, sighing to himself as his back popped. How long had it been since he’d moved? Four hours? His gaze traveled the room as he sat motionless in the cold. 

The walls had several framed photos and posters. The posters were mainly older Gear Station signs and advertisements for past events they had done, like a battle bracket one year for challengers or a holiday or New Year’s event. Emmet’s favorite was the spooky one, personally. Ingo always liked the spring decorations, the small flowers and the pastel colors. The twins had been split on the battle bracket and, for Rei, the scavenger hunt to collect every sticker hidden away on the platforms. The prize for finding them all was an authentic conductor’s hat, though he’d never cared for that. He had plenty. 

There were several photos dotting the area around the two desks, as well. Photos of himself and his team, Ingo and his teams (from Hisui and Unova, as he hadn’t had the chance to release his Hisui team before returning), the twins as they grew up, both with and without their starters, Elesa with all four of them, even a family reunion photo with Drayden and Iris and their extended family on his side. Emmet’s favorite had to be the one he kept on his desk, from when the twins were younger. Ingo’s kids were maybe eight years old, staring intently into the water under Tubeline Bridge, watching for any sort of movement. That is, until Iris had sent her Lapras into the water to prank them, having it pop its head out and making the two scramble back onto the bank with a strangled yelp, landing in a very undignified way on the muddy land on their bottoms. The photo had been taken just as the twins were yelling, Lapras’s face in a soft smile as it ‘greeted’ them. Iris was already in stitches, doubled over in laughter. Even Drayden had chuckled, his eyes shut in merriment, leaving Emmet to laugh openly. Only Ingo hadn’t truly laughed, though his eyes had twinkled as he held it in and made sure they were alright. Other than some bruised pride, they had been perfectly fine. 

He looked at the goofy photo. Emmet had pulled out his camera as soon as he’d seen Iris sneakily send her pokemon into the water someway upstream. It had been taken just downstream, so he could get everyone’s faces from afar. The kids’ eyes were wide as they leapt back - the photo still had them in mid-air, their arms blurry from reeling backwards. Emmet felt that familiar grin creeping up his face as he studied the photo. It always made him smile. Lapras had offered itself to being petted as an apology afterwards, and had even ferried the kids around on its shell for a bit on the water. 

Emmet sighed. He put the photo back and stood up, stretching. A deep sense of melancholy settled itself into his ribcage, sitting more heavy than a stone. His face drooped. It was much harder to make memories like that when the person - or rather, people, in this case - were missing. 

He checked his phone. A message from Drayden checking in, that he hadn’t heard anything yet about the missing kids, but he’d keep searching, he would always keep searching. Iris hadn’t heard anything, either. 

Keep up your hopes, Emmet. They aren’t gone for good. You told me that the first time we went through this, and I know you know it now.

Emmet typed a response as he grabbed his stuff, his day bag now slung over his shoulder. He made sure to unceremoniously dump a bit of the paperwork on Ingo’s desk and to shove some of the more urgent items into his bag. You are correct. I know that. But I am not the one who needs convincing. 

A moment passed as Emmet grabbed his personal items and opened the door to the office. He shut off the lights as he did, making sure not to waste needless power. He made his way down the hallway, checking again for a message. To his surprise, there was one. Drayden usually did not answer this quickly. I’m sure. Perhaps me and Iris can stop by sometime. Try to break him out of the horrid spell I’m sure he’s still under. It’s been how long now? This was about the time you became despondent. 

He entered the control room. Two or three Agents milled about, checking in on the monitors and speaking in low tones. They looked up as Emmet entered and waved to him. “Everything steady?” Emmet asked them. 

“Sure is, Boss. Just passengers and us left for the night shift. Only engine Orange being ran for the overnight shift. All others are already in the warehouse being assessed and cleaned.” The olive-skinned woman pulled up a camera feed, making it larger on the biggest screen in the center. It showed several large engines being serviced by night crew.

“Perfect.” Emmet put a cup in the coffee maker by the door and pressed what flavor he wanted. Mostly black, just a bit of cream. “Need anything else from me? I know I disappeared today. Lots of paperwork to catch up on.” 

“I don’t think so, Boss.” A pale man with glasses swiveled in his chair to face him. “Have a good night. We’ll see ya back here tomorrow morning. Wish Boss Ingo our best.” The other Depot Agents nodded solemnly. Though it had never been formally announced that the kids were missing, they all certainly knew. It was taboo to talk about it in the station, but the Agents were always sure to leave kind regards and if Ingo didn’t come in for a few days, it was never mentioned. 

“You as well. All aboard,” Emmet responded, more out of habit than anything. He snagged his cup and placed a lid on top as he snuck out of the station. He checked his phone again, typing out a response to his uncle. If you want to see him acting more like a stale piece of bread than a human, consider yourself invited. It’s hard to get him to do anything these days. I’ve been holding down the Station more often than not. Even if he does go in, he just stares at the wall. I’ve never seen him so invested in a book in my entire life than the history books he reads. 

He waved to the Agent by the door as he swung open the glass doors to the station and swept out into the warm night. Emmet sighed in contentment as he clutched his coffee. The sky was that ethereal orange seen across Unova. Light pollution had its large claws sunk deep into the region, and unfortunately, no night was truly the inky black he remembered on his trip to Alola with Ingo all those years ago. Street lights threw that ugly yellow undertone to everything that they always did. Quite a few people were out tonight, though Emmet supposed that was normal for seven at night on a Thursday in the summer. He wondered if there were any events, musical or battle-oriented or otherwise, that were going on soon in Nimbasa. There was almost always something. He passed under the one that flickered as he walked, checking his device yet again. A certain someone else I can think of was much the same. We will come by this weekend. Don’t worry about making the house too clean, we’ve definitely seen worse. Emmet could almost hear his uncle’s soft chuckle that accompanied it. Is there anything we should bring as well? Food, pokemon treats, anything of that sort? 

I don’t think so, Emmet typed, walking under another street light. He could see the bus stop in the distance. A few others were already at the stop, waiting for the next bus to arrive. He stood just outside the covered bench, leaning on a lamp post as he typed. I need to do some grocery shopping soon, so let me know if you want anything specific to snack on. It’s mostly just me doing things in the house these days. The Joltik aren’t as rowdy, either. The next clutch hasn’t hatched just yet and most of last year’s have already relocated to Chargestone and the tunnels.

This will be your eighteenth clutch, correct? 

Emmet glanced up as he thought about when he had first started officially breeding them. It would have been toward the tail end of Ingo’s absence. Elesa had convinced him that he needed some hobby other than going to work all the time, and she had remembered him talking about getting into breeding when he was younger, so she had bought him a book about the basics of pokemon breeding. That must have been during the eighth year of Ingo’s disappearance, and if he’s having one clutch a year and its been about ten years since he reappeared-

“Subway Boss Emmet?” Emmet blinked himself from his thoughts and glanced around. The person who had spoken was an older woman sitting on the bench. No one else around paid them any mind, some with earbuds in, some engrossed in something on their Xtrans. 

“Hm?” Emmet hummed to the woman, alerting her that he’d heard what she’d said. He let his hand with the phone screen fall somewhat, turning his attention to her. 

The woman had very light hair, almost white, long and very wispy, held up in a dark hat. She also had a dark dress. It almost looked like she was dressed for a funeral. She smiled up at him, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening in the glow of the orange street lamp above them. “I heard about what happened recently. Things will become right again for you.” 

He blinked. Honestly, this left him at a loss for words. “I- uh. T-Thank you? Thank you.” He regained his composure. “It will take some time, but I know the tracks will be rideable once more.” 

She chuckled as she looked up. Emmet could see the bus in the distance. “It will indeed. My great-great niece would love you. She is very into history, you see, much like my nephew was… oh, what a strong-willed man, he was. Is! That never left him.” 

As she rambled, Emmet’s mind was reeling. Who was this woman? He didn’t think she’d ever seen him before. The fact that she recognized him by sight alone was nothing odd, he was something of a local celebrity, especially in uniform. He was about to ask what she meant when she glanced around again and shook her head. “It seems my stop is coming. I wish you could meet my lovely niece. She would want to talk to you for days about Hisui and the heroes-” 

“You know about Hisui?” Emmet asked incredulously. He needed to know more. He needed-

“Good luck, Emmet. Keep your brother strong. The children are looking for him.” The bus’s headlights engulfed his vision for a moment, making him blink. As soon as he opened his eyes to ask her what she meant, the bench was empty. Emmet whirled around, looking for the old woman, but she was nowhere to be seen. The door to the bus opened with a mechanical hiss. Other passengers began to climb aboard. Emmet gave one last glance around as he climbed aboard next, shivering under his coat, trying to shake the feeling of being watched. 

[First] - [Previous] - [Next]

[pherelesytsia]

(Un)lonely on Christmas

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Thomas visits Garrisons and meets the new barmaid.

Warning: fluff, mentions of war, drinks

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n:. Requests are open!!!

Snowflakes waltzed through the rising breeze of the gloomy night. Not a soul, not a man lonely during the holy and jolly time of the year sat in the far corners of the bar once oozing with life and the purest form of delight.

The Gramophone had stopped playing Christmas songs. A few lights, dying candles were touching her untroubled features. The young woman wasn't frightened nor disturbed and kept glancing out of the windows framed by curtains caring the unmistakable stench of whiskey and rum. Smiling, Y/N wiped the grime from the wooden counter. She had rearranged the bottles, the finest of wine and the cheapest of rum, sheltered in the high wooden shelves. The glasses were washed with warm water and polished with the stained cloth.

She mirrored the beauty of a fallen angel. Delicate curls framed her features, the well-shaped lips, brows and her caring eyes. The apron, once white, stained by rum and wine, shielded the dress, rough and scratchy yet warming during long winter nights and the shifts in the tavern.

The bell rang, announced a guest. With a smile on her lips, Y/N greeted the tall man and gestured with her hand to the seats at the tables. Perplexed, the stranger stared at the barmaid tightening the strings of her apron. The man, Y/N, was sure he was a businessman, took off the coat, brushed the melting snow away and threw it on the chair closest to the closing door, followed by the cap.

            "Good evening, sir. How can I be of service?" Y/N inquired kindly, letting go of the soiled rag.

The guest laughed, glanced perplexed, had expected that somebody had broken into the bar, but to his shock, a lady he had never seen was behind the counter in complete solitude.

            "Rum," he simply answered.

The young woman turned, not feeling the need to clasp the pistol hidden between the bottles, took out a bottle and poured the liquid into the glass.

            "The glass is on me.", "That won't be necessary," the businessman interjected, but Y/N shook her head in disapproval.

            "Christmas is near. You look like you could use a drink." Y/N joked.

Her eyes sparkled, and the man with vibrant blue eyes chuckled. He strolled towards the woman and wordlessly accepted the glass without hesitation.

            "And what are they doing here? Shouldn't you be with your family? Christmas is near." he questioned.

Slowly, the man settled down on the stool in front of the bar. Y/N stepped back, leaned against the low shelf with her arms crossed, used to listen to the tales of lonely wanderers and drunk men.

            "I could ask you the same thing, my lord.", "I asked you first. With whom do I have the honour?" he countered before wetting his lips shaped into a devilish smirk on the liquid.

            "Y/N," she answered.

            "So, Y/N, what is a young lady like you doing in a pub? Didn't your boss give you the evening off? I thought the bar is closed during this time." the visitor inquired.

Setting the glass down in front of him, he leaned forward with his elbows on the wood.

            "Thomas. Pleased to make your acquaintance," he continued.

His eyes sparkled.

            "The pleasure is all mine, Mister Thomas. My boss said there are enough lonely souls who could visit the bar during this merry time. I volunteered. The other employees have children or a family to take care of." Y/N answered.

The tone of her once lovely voice changed, and the visitor heard fear and anger mingling with sadness in her shattering voice. Thomas noticed she tried to stay strong, but Y/N couldn't fool him.

            "Lonely souls like me?", "It was busier an hour ago, but everybody left. It's late and at least I could clean the place up, something I cannot do in the afternoon," she explained.

            "What happened?" he asked.

Y/N gulped and the pain in her watering eyes answered the question Thomas had asked. She flexed her hands. The smile grew weaker, and she busied herself with the frayed ends of the apron.

            "My father served in war. The day before Christmas he stepped on a mine and the day after he died. My mother left us a long time ago and my brother had to serve during the last months. I didn't get a report or his dog tag. I hope he is alive, living somewhere overseas in a house with a family." Y/N spoke bitterly, opened up to the stranger as if he was a good friend.

She studied him carefully. He was not many years older than her, and Y/N guessed he must have served too. Thomas nodded, shuddered, and tried to forget the repressed past, but the memories returned in waves. Clutching the glass, Thomas offered her a sip, but Y/N turned down, shaking her head, but when the eyes met, she accepted the glass wordlessly, brought it to her lips and took a generous sip.

            "France?" Thomas asked.

            "What man has not been to France?" she coughed, unused to the bitter taste.

            "You're right about that. So, you're alone?", "Yes, at least I can be here, among people, even if they are mainly drunk. I moved into town about two months ago and took the job." Y/N spoke, calmed down, and refilled the glass she had emptied.

Y/N turned, faced the shelves and retrieved a battered leather wallet, once belonging to a man, out of the handbag. She took out some coins, opened the cash register and put them in the designated places, not noticing that Thomas was examining her every step with curiosity.

            "What's the matter? Did I do something funny?" Y/N gasped incredulously, not understanding why the man was grinning, thought she had done something amusing.

            "What are you doing?", "I'm paying for the drink. I gave you a refill, and I invited you, so I have to pay for it." Y/N explained.

            "I don't want to know how many drinks are unpaid." Thomas chuckled.

            "I'm grateful to my boss for giving me this job, otherwise I'd probably work as a lady of the night." she continued and Thomas nodded again, letting the information sink in.

            "Who's your boss? I am not a local.", "Arthur Shelby. He has younger brothers, but I only know John. Both have been kind to me. I have heard a lot about the family, but to this very day, they have been kind to me and I have never felt threatened." she reported.

            "What did you work as?" Thomas questioned.

At a slow pace, Y/N approached the man, convinced she had seen the eyes carrying the beauty of a sunny day once in her life.

            "I worked for a dressmaker. I delivered dresses and suits. During the war, I worked in a factory. I packed food rations for the front. If I would have arrived later, I would have been sent to the chemicals and now I would suffer from the aftermath. My best friend's skin turned yellow. She smelled the fumes and died a few months ago. Later, after war, I worked as a secretary in a factory. It delivered car parts overseas." Y/N said, folding the dried rag.

Thomas took a sip from the glass.

            "When is your shift over?" he asked.

Y/N leaned forward, looked at the clock and realised it was long past midnight.

            "I should have been home long ago, but if you want to order another drink, I can stay. I'm sure my boss won't have a problem with that.", "No, I'll be on my way. May I walk you home? The streets at night are dangerous. No place for a woman." Thomas spoke with sudden sternness.

            "Mister Thomas, I work in a tavern. I carry a gun and I won't hesitate to use it. And believe me, there have been a few incidents when I almost put a bullet through a man's leg.", "But only almost, of course.", "Exactly my Lord," Y/N chuckled.

Thomas emptied the glass, arose and gestured to the woman to do the same, to close the bar and follow him outside.

            "You should close the bar, I will accompany you home, I will wait outside.", "My lord, this will not be necessary." Y/N reasoned,

            "Yes, it is. It is the least I can do for you. Before I forget." Thomas stopped.

From his trouser pocket, he pulled out a dark card with curved writing and handed it to the baffled woman with a smile.

            "Here, my business card. If you are looking for a place as a secretary, then feel free to call me. I am at your disposal. My last secretary did not turn up for work after a few days." Thomas explained.

Shaking her head, Y/N inspected the card, cursed the dim light, walked on and stopped under the lamp dangling low above the wood. Over and over again, her eyes slid over the few lines, convinced she was mistaken. Her eyes widened. Ashamed, Y/N lowered her gaze and breathed an excuse. Swallowing, Y/N stared after the man exiting the pub through the door, realised Thomas was the man people had her warned about, the cruel creature, but she doubted the words, had seen the sympathy in his eyes as she spoke of her past.

[ae-neon]

Part 1

The Well was not supposed to work.

It was a silly story told to wayward children at night to fall in line. Mind the wishes you make at The Well, for you know not what lives at the bottom. Never mind that The Well could only be found over the wall where the Fae and their beasts roamed. Never mind that humans weren’t allowed there, and the ones that dared to venture to The Well were never seen again.

Nesta Archeron never believed those stories.

If a human died because they ignorant enough to travel over the wall, well then, let the fae have their fun.

But it was different now. Now, Nesta was fae. Now, Nesta definitively knew there was more to Prythian than even the High Lords and Ladies knew. So she was not surprised when she, after another fight she’d had with the mongrel of a mate she’d been cursed with, stumbled upon what she instinctively knew to be The Well as she ran from Velaris to Cauldron knew where. She simply needed out of that godsforsaken court.

The Well was simply that—a well. If anyone else, namely a human, came across it, they would walk past it. Nothing about it was special. It didn’t glow. It didn’t have a talking face. It seemed all but abandoned with it’s snapped winch, crumbled concrete bricks, and frayed rope with no bucket in sight. Still, Nesta knew this was The Well so many died to find.

Though she did not believe, curiosity got the better of her. She leaned over to catch a glimpse of what may lurk at the bottom, but even with her far improved fae vision, nothing but darkness lay at the end of The Well. As all of them.

Nesta chuckled at herself. “A fool’s hope.”

Then a fool she must be, for she fished a coin from her pocket and tossed it in. Water did not splash nor did it ring when it reached the bottom. And though her pulse quickened and gooseflesh covered her skin, though her ears rang in the sudden deafening silence that befell the woods, though fear weighed as heavily as her doubt on her bones, still she said, “I wish I was a man, that my bond may break and I may finally be respected.”

For a few tense moments, nothing happened. Just as Nesta expected. But just before she turned away, a clawed hand reached forth over the well and grabbed her by the neck, paralyzing her completely. First, bejeweled mulberry eyes sparkled through the darkness, catching and holding her gaze. Then, a withered skeletal crown emerged from the inky shadows that parted almost acting as the sea. It’s rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth extended past its mouth, becoming one with its jaw. She could’ve swore what already looked to be a grin extended into a greater one, exposing even more teeth and a bottomless pit for throat.

Its growl of a voice crashed through her skull, shaking the ground beneath her. “Be careful what you wish for, Lady of Bloodshed.”

It pulled her half down the well, mashing her lips to its teeth. The stench of rotting flesh and blood filled her nose. She choked, tasting it on her tongue. Something within her snapped. Distantly, she heard a roar. And then, the one thing that haunted her dreams even after all these years. The familiar scraping and breaking and remaking of her bones. She pulled away to scream, but the creature’s teeth tore into her lips, her face, dragging her further down The Well with it.

Darkness covered her.

Anon!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS AMAZING

I am reading this at 4am, the hand coming out the well genuinely scared me for a sec

[the-power-of-stuff]

Almighty Empress of Sukka! I have a spicy Sukka question for you:

What are some things that Sokka and/or Suki do (unknowingly or otherwise) that get each other in the mood? Like little quirks or habits or clothes they wear or just random everyday stuff that makes the other go 😯🥵🤤? (For example, maybe Suki drinking a milkshake or slurpee with her lips wrapped around the straw is just a bit too much for Sokka to handle. And maybe when Sokka takes his shirt off after a hot, sweaty workout, not matter how awkwardly he does it, Suki gets a little hot and flustered herself.)

Sorry, that was a lot. 😅 But Sukka’s irrepressibly spontaneous love for each other always makes me want to gush! 🥰

And I know you’re busy with Sukka Week right now, so no rush to answer this at all! I’m very patient.

Lord, have I really been sitting on this ask for nearly two years??

I need you to know, Dearest Anon, that it doesn't feel like I've let this ask go for so long because I have actually had it on my mind that entire time, wanting to answer it and waiting until a good enough answer surfaced.

But I think I was going about it the wrong way. I don't really have a lot of headcanons that exist independently of putting a guy in situations. And if I put a guy in enough situations, I might end up repeating similar ideas until they become headcanons (like my headcanon that Suki has a particular fondness for lotus seed buns).

So! It occurred to me that maybe the best way for me to answer this question would be to put these guys in a situation. And now, at long last, we have...Suki getting really turned on by Sokka cooking... 😏

Suki stepped off the back porch of the house, perched the steamer basket full of rice on her cocked hip, and bit her lip. Framed beautifully in her field of view, amidst a glorious backdrop of lush green foliage and the island’s tumbling, sparkling brook, was Sokka, standing over the makeshift grill he’d thrown together from a large cast iron pot and some wire mesh he’d gotten off one of the fishing boats. The air was fragrant with the savory sweet aroma of seared meat, Sokka expertly working the grill in a calculated dance between flame, timing, and seasoning. And Suki’s mouth was watering. 

“Hey there, grill master,” she crooned as she approached, abandoning the rice on the table that housed Sokka’s setup. She ran one hand over his shoulder, down his back, then lower still so she could squeeze a generous handful of ass cheek. 

He yelped before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, one brow quirked in amusement. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” she said, sidling closer and pressing up against him from behind. Her hands quickly found his hip bones and traced the muscle there before teasing lower by just a few millimeters, and Sokka nearly dropped his tongs. 

“You know Mrs. Kotoji can see us from here…”

Suki turned her head towards her next door neighbor’s house just in time to see the shutters slam shut on one of the windows. “Nothing scandalous for her to see here,” she countered breezily. Then she found the slit in the side of Sokka’s tunic and traced her fingers down his thigh.

“Keep doin’ that and there might be,” he grunted, and Suki chuckled, dropping her forehead between Sokka’s shoulder blades as she laughed. 

“Listen…” she said coyly. With her head still resting against Sokka’s spine, she drew her hands slowly around his hips and up his flanks. “I know you’re still cooking, but once you’re done, you think you could…scandalize me a bit before we eat?”

Something clattered loudly while Sokka fumbled around with the grill, and then suddenly he was whirling around, gripping Suki’s waist and tugging her close. “Tui and La, woman… I will scandalize you so much, you’ll be reading about it in Ba Sing Se next year. In those scandal sheet things. That they circulate in the Upper Ring. Whatever, it made sense in my—” And he cut himself off by closing the distance between his mouth and hers. 

Suki threw her arms around his shoulders, laughing into him as he penguin-stepped them back towards the house. When they collided with one of the porch posts, Sokka used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slotting one thigh between hers, creating delicious friction for them both. Suki moaned.

“So, you like the way I handle my meat, huh?” Sokka teased, breathy against her lips.

“Oh yeah,” Suki rasped, delighted, sneaking her eager hands back around to Sokka’s backside. “And now it’s my turn.”

[tiny-elf-of-doom]

Discipline In the Bastille

Good Omens Fanfiction

Crowley x Aziraphale

Nsfw MDNI: spanking, dirty talk, discipline, dubious consent, bad angel, dom Crowley, sun Aziraphale, French Revolution, guillotine, language, mentions of death, and crying.

“Animals.” Aziraphale huffed.

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, Angel, only humans do that.” A familiar voice called from behind the angel.

“Crowley!” Then, he noticed the look on the demon’s face, “oh… good lord.”

For the majority of their shared existence, Aziraphale hadn’t made too many stupid decisions, but this one was the most ridiculous by far. He had popped across the channel in the middle of a goddamn revolution to get something to nibble. Crepes, he’d claimed. No other country made them better than the one they originated from. Crowley growled in annoyance at the mental image of the angel’s arrest.

“You look like Antoinette in all that sparkle and ruffling fluff, what the hell were you thinking?” Crowley was standing now, expression strict, “walking around like a lost broach on the King’s lapel, thinking “what shall I eat today?” Maybe you need a heaping plate of bon sens!”

Aziraphale’s eyes began to water, “you’re mocking my eating habits and my decision making abilities! How dare you!”

The demon meant to only roll his eyes, but his entire head went with them. “Angel, I love to watch you eat- the pleasure I draw from it… you’re as smooth as the softest bed silk and I love your plush curves, but a mishap like this cannot happen again; this calls for punishment.”

The demon swayed across the room to where the angel once sat. It had been a cold and brittle stool. Crowley kept the angel’s wrists confined in the chains and patted his lap. The gesture was strange behind Aziraphale’s blue eyes, but eventually, he got the message. His face went pale at the very thought of what Crowley was implying.

“Excuse you!” The angel gasped. “I’m not some elementary boy that’s acting out of line!”

“A good spanking is in order, princess. You’ve been a very naughty thing and I can’t imagine letting you go without a reason to behave.”

Outside the cell, the guillotine sliced another head clean from its body. The sound was horrendous- wet and sloppy in the late afternoon sun. Crowley wasn’t there to humiliate him; he was there to give Aziraphale a choice. He could either submit like a good, little cherub, or use up a frivolous miracle to save himself from discorporation.

In the end, he chose the ladder. Stepping in front of Crowley, the angel lifted his chains and gave them a wee shake. The demon chuckled softly and began to pull down the angel’s trousers and stockings. He had the prettiest legs with a light dusting of white hair glowing atop celestial skin. What Crowley would have given to kiss every inch of them: to bite the flesh of this divine entity. However, that could be sought after later.

Aziraphale lowered himself over the demon’s bony knee, revealing his backside to the light pouring through the small window. It was quite a sight, the nearly white bottom. Crowley was excited to see how well it took to his strikes. With a careful hand, the demon rolled up his sleeves and landed a small slap to the angel’s left buttock. It was manageable, nothing extraordinary, until the Crowley added some enthusiasm.

A CLACK sounded throughout the cell. The stinging sensation hadn’t been given time to soothe before another blow met the pink skin. Crowley was mercilessly engaged with every smack, ensuring those glistening cheeks were as red as his hair. As for the angel, he was grinding his hips forward, biting his bottom lip to avoid the excess of whimpers. He felt dirty rutting into that modestly dressed thigh, but the motion was the only thing keeping his clit throbbing.

“Five more, angel,” Crowley warned, sounding just as strung out as the angel. “You’ve such a pretty arse. ‘Look so angelic in all that peachy blush… like a battered orchid.”

“Crowley, I beg you to take me after this. It hurts so very good…” Aziraphale let out another strangled groan.

SMACK SMACK SMACK! The last five landed at the very curve of the angel’s cheeks, striking with enough force to warrant a few tears. Aziraphale’s bum bruised a dark rouge, possibly darker than the blush of an aristocrat. Crowley helped him rise to his feet, feeling those fragile legs shake.

“You demon…” the angel wept. “Touch me…”

“Of course.” Crowley half carried Aziraphale to the stones opposite the cell gate and began attacking his lips with feverish kisses. One of his hands slipped between the angel’s legs, embracing the damp warmth that enveloped his white curls and tender labia.

Crowley was a greedy demon who happily inhaled the angel’s moans as he slowly massaged his tender clit. Aziraphale gripped at the fabric of Crowley’s sleeve, trying to find something to ground him in these times of lustful desire. If his legs weren’t shaking from the spankings, then they surely were now. The stone wall behind him scratched at the tender flesh of his bum, eliciting the familiar sting once again. His fingers continued to move in that delicious clockwork circle, pressing firmly when the fiend craved more of Aziraphale’s sweet moans.

“I’m close… Crowley please…” the angel had been crying, absolutely shuttering from the agony of pleasure. “May I come?”

The demon nodded, trying to keep himself in check, “come for me, Angel. You pretty thing…”

And he nearly set the Bastille’s guards running to the source of the howl. Aziraphale had liquid drenching his inner thighs, running in murky strands of milky white. Crowley ate it up, savoring the taste of a well spent seraph. Once the angel could no longer stand, the demon miracled his legs into a firm jelly, but not too firm as to forget why they ached.