#i've wondered this before but what was it that drew him to that house

[dvlboy]

stinky sukuna causing trouble once again!!

NOTE: yuuji is legal in this fic, incubus au

TOP MALE READER READ DNI

he whispered in his ear a tempting curiosity, and planted the seed of desire deep within him. for when it bloomed, it would be unstoppable.

it was a typical night for you, maybe slightly lonelier then some days. it was rare for such a mundane day to occur, but there were no complaints from you. it seemed normal when you went to sleep, a strange but pleasant feeling. you had seen a strange male in your dreams, black marks and clawed hands. last night was the closest he had gotten to you, whispering his name in your ear before you woke up in cold sweat. he had a faint mark on his body, and a grin. when a frantic, persistent, annoying knock woke you up at some ungodly hour in the morning.

you considered not opening it, hoping that whoever it was got the hint, until they started begging your name at your door. it was a familiar voice, one that you had always known. there was a familiar pink haired male at your doorstep, mumbling to himself and teary eyed. concern immediately welled up within you as you rushed to get him inside your small house.

he wasted no time in flinging himself on you, wrapping his arms around your neck and inhaling your scent in big deep breaths. whatever sleepiness you had was fully gone, and replaced with confusion. he was muttering into your neck, going a mile a minute and with a red blush blooming over his face. he took a deep breath, looked you in the eyes and repeated himself once more.

"i.. uh.. its a long story but i ate a cursed finger and its another long story but basically i have another entity in me and hes annoying and opens his mouth alot and talks to me in my headandhesanincubus." another loooong inhale before he spoke again. "andhesbeenputtingstuffintomyheadaboutsexandijustcantgetitoutofmyheadprobablybecausenowthathesinmybodyheschangingit."

he then looked at you, before his eyes drew to the waistband of your pants. "i uh, i uh.. its been on my mind.. i just can't get sex out of my head and i've been tired and .." he paused again, "sukuna won't shut up about it in my head, and tonight its been the worst its ever been.. ive been fantasizing about you and i need to see if what hes been saying is true.. please don't hate me.."

he even sat on your couch, staring at you with those big teary eyes, even grabbing your hand and rubbing his face against it. he sure was desperate, and plus it was your duty as his best friend, right?

_____________________________

he is so,, so eager for anything. you started off by making out with him, something that he took to like a champ, sweet moans were contained between your lips and he was more then eager to dwell deeper and deeper with newfound sin. he felt so energized by a simple make out session. he hoped that his energy came more from the excitement of doing it with you, and not what the demon inside his head was alluring to.

and when you pulled out your dick yuuji placed his arm against it, cooing at how it compared to his arm. this was the most quiet sukuna has been since he swallowed that damned finger. it felt like his body was in heat ever since you kissed him, and seeing your thick, pulsing length measure up against his arm made that heat in him burn in anticipation. he's jerked off to porn thinking of you, imagining you deep within him, the feeling of you pinning him against a wall and using his body for your own need.

at first sukuna whispered about how good it is to cuddle with someone, then it became how nice it would feel to have your warm, strong body cuddle against his. then it became planting thoughts in his head, making him wonder how big your dick is, or if you were as gentle in bed as you were talking to him. drilling fantasies was practically effortless given that the male jerked off every day and imagined it was you two instead. being a part of yuujis head meant that he knew everything, including that you were the easiest target in making him succumb, and break to his will.

and being near him just made you reckless, your festering desire to be in him and be connected to him made you do stupid things. he tenderly grabbed your dick, almost like he was trying to see how it felt on his hand, how the heat and weight felt. he could feel you throb freely in his hold, like it was inviting him to touch it, to touch you. and who was he to deny you? his eyes were blown wide, and everything about you from how you look to how you smell invited him closer to you. he was starting to get desperate, gruff whines mixing in with his pants whenever you roamed his body, faint whispers and begs to stick it in. your touch ignited the fire deep within his body, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait for you to put it out before it ingulfed him entirely.

he was sensitive, and so,, so tight. yuujis salmon hair was sweaty and he already cum from sheer anticipation of getting fucked. currently he was facing your ceiling, his sturdy thighs wrapping around your waist while you thrusted into him. his walls were as needy as he was, sloppy noises filling the room. his toned body was stained with milky fluids. so this is what its like.. fucked out, he thought that in bliss feeling you deep in him. yuuji could feel your powerful thighs piston, and your slick cock hit something deep inside. yet somehow, he still wasn't getting overstimulated. before all of this started, whenever he would jerk off to the thought of you he couldn't last more then a few minutes.. and boy did you not disappoint. you truly look as good above him as you do everywhere else, and the smell of you encompassing him would make him lightheaded in the best way possible.

"see, why deny it?" a cruel voice rang in his mind, making him wince, he tried to ignore it and closed his eyes, tensing. you paused, asking him if he was okay.

"don't deny your body yuuji, give it what it wants..take it for yourself.." it came in a faint whisper in his mind, the lust clouding his mind, tempting him beyond his imagination.

the only reason why he opened his eyes, was because you felt up something that made him jolt, and yelp out a moan. the feeling was so unfamiliar that he snapped his eyes open, seeing you stare at his pelvis in slight awe, and slight worry.

there was a faint glow of a symbol on his abdomen, something that would have made his blood run cold if it weren't that you were here with him, and if he wasn't deep in pleasure.

"he already saw it, dummy. why are you still denying yourself? he can clearly handle it." sukuna was getting impatient, annoyance tainting his words. yuuji didn't want him to ruin his first time, much less with you. if he could just ignore him for a bit long..

"if you won't dwell in your desires, i will.." he could feel a growing force in his head. "let me show you how its done.." and suddenly, itadori wasn't in control of his own body.

his thighs gripped your pelvis before sukuna pushed you down, clawed hand on your chest, sinking deep on your cock. he could see how your mind connected the pieces, seeing your friend transform into the demon from your dreams. his grin came on his face, his hand running over your face before his nail was right at your lip. sukuna peered over your face, gripping your chin. "miss me?" your grunt annoyed him as much as your frightened eyes. one deep, passionate kiss was enough to have your eyes gloss over slightly, and was enough to subdue you.

"now be a good boy," that grin came back on his face when you nodded. he sank on your cock, frothed cum leaking from his ass while he toyed with you. the mark on yuujis body glowed bright pink, and you couldn't help but reach out and touch it.

thats when those smooth, pleasured grunts turned into another yelp of deep nirvana. sukuna was gripping your sheets, tearing them and biting his lip. he himself seemed surprised, covering his mouth.

yuuji in his mind tried to gain control of his body, but the overwhelming force that sukuna had, and the inexperience of himself meant that he could only wait until he had more strength to gain back control. he was forced to watch everything, helpless.

"y'know, that boy really likes you, and you can keep up with me.." he got real close to your face, pleasured insanity running through his eyes and a blush on his face, which means we will see eachother alot more.." sukuna pulled back, gaining back his composure and running his hand through his hair, looked back down on you.

"now let me drain you until you're dry and begging for more.." that was the last you remember after being pulled into a kiss, a pleasurable dream that lasted for hours. the next thing you remember is being woken up by a naked yuuji panicking, and urging you to go wash up with him. and since when did you have all these markings all over you?

____________________

PLEASE leave comments, or rbs for motivation !!

[obx-4-life]

Teach me...

Bsf!rafe × inexperienced!reader

Warnings: Mastrubation (fem reader), use of doll, and princess, Rafe being a softie, fingering, virgin reader, inexperienced reader. 18+ MDNI

A/n: Sorry if this is no good, it was rushed and I didn't have time to proofread. Let me know what you think or if you'd want a part two. Loved writing a story for Rafe x reader. Tysm guys <3

Please don't copy my work

(Divider isn't mine, credits to whoever made it <3)

For a while now, every single time you saw your best friend, Rafe, you left with an achy feeling in your lower stomach. You wondered why? How? He's your friend, it's wrong, you can't want him.

Today was particularly difficult to peel your eyes away from his perfectly sculpted muscles as you sat on the beach together. Every touch set your body on fire, growing more and more desperate each time.

You managed to control yourself for those few hours, but when you got home, you could feel your core throbbing, begging for Rafe. You flop down onto your bed, drifting away in your thoughts, how hot your best friend looked when he unintentionally flexed his muscles, licked his bottom lip, smiled at you, gazed into your eyes. You felt like you were constantly being teased.

Without realising it, too busy daydreaming, your fingers had slipped below the hem of your panties, desperate for some sort of relief.

You tried rubbing your clit, using your fingers on your self, but it wasn't enough, you needed more and didn't know what to do about it. So you did what anyone else would do, ask their friend for help. It's just help, he's just my friend, I just trust him enough to show me how to have a good time, just that, nothing more... You try to convince yourself that you don't like Rafe, but how couldn't you, everything about him drew you in, made you want to be his, and his only.

So you text him.

You: "I know this is gonna sound so weird, but I need your help"

Rafe: "what with?"

You: "can't get myself off, and there's no one else I trust enough to talk to about this kinda stuff, and I really need some help right now, Rafe"

Rafe: "ok, ok, I'll be round in 5 minutes, yeah?"

You: "thanks Rafey"

Rafe has a key to your house, so he just walks in. He finds you sprawled out on your bed, your cheeks flushed pink, and a frustrated look on your face.

"Hey Rafe. Thanks for helping me with this"

"Mhm, no problem doll. How'd you want me?"

"Your fingers... please... I don't know how to do it to myself properly, I've never uhm well, you know"

"Finished or fucked?"

"Both" you admit shyly.

Rafe sits down next to you, reassuring you, he begins to whisper things into your ear to prepare you to take his fingers but you quietly mumble you "m'already really wet, Rafey".

He looks up to you, silently asking for you if you're ok with this, when you nod, he pulls down your panties before gently pushing your legs apart a bit further than they already were.

You'd heard Rafe fucking girls before, he was always rough and degrading, but here, now, he was sweet, caring, just like the boy you've been friends with all these years, you were the only person to see his soft side and you were eternally thankful for that.

"Y'ok with this, doll?"

You bite your bottom lip and nod. Rafe drags his long, thick, middle finger along your slit, collecting your juices and nudging his finger against your tight, pink, hole. He gently inserts his digit and you let out a whimper, not used to the feeling. His fingers are much bigger than yours and he's way more skilled at knowing the exact angles to position his fingers at.

"Mhm Rafey, you can move it."

He draws his finger back out before sinking it back into you, your gummy walls tightly clenching around his digit.

"Fuck, princess, you're so tight"

After a while, you get used to the feeling, mewls of pleasure slipping out of your mouth. Rafe notices this and adds a second finger and then proceeds to curl them, immediately finding the sensitive spot that makes you moan almost pornographically.

He repeatedly curls his fingers, hitting that spot each time until your walls flutter around him before you come undone. You orgasm coating his fingers in your juices.

Part 2...?

[little-diable]

Let the Rain Wash Away Our Secrets – Charlie Swan (smut)

It's been some time since I've last written for one of our fave DILFs, so here we go. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is one of Bella's best friends. But as she comes to Forks to visit her younger friend, Bella is too distracted by her boyfriend, giving (y/n) and Charlie the chance to get to know one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, best friend's dad trope, quite fluffy, age gap (reader is legal ofc)

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem!reader (3k words)

Clouds covered the sky, adding to the gloomy atmosphere (y/n) found herself trapped in. Her eyes kept wandering, taking in her surroundings as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Protected from the light rain by her jacket, (y/n) cuddled herself further into the fabric, while she hoped that somebody would finally open the door. 

Once again, she rang the bell while wondering where Bella was. It had been days since they had last spoken, but while (y/n) had reminded her friend of her approaching trip, Bella had seemed distracted, as if she was barely listening. (Y/n) had been hesitant to visit after the call, and yet she had missed her friend too much to back out of the trip. 

With a sigh clawing through her, (y/n) reached for her phone to call Bella, hoping that she had fallen asleep or was wearing headphones, so she wasn’t hearing the ringing doorbell. But Bella didn’t pick up the call, letting it go to voicemail as (y/n) plopped down on the stairs leading up to the house. 

Annoyance flushed through (y/n) as she ended the call. Bella had sent her Charlie Swan’s phone number a few weeks ago, telling her that she could always call him if (y/n) needed her but couldn’t reach her. But (y/n) had never spoken to the man before, unsure what to say to him, and if he would even know who she was, given Bella’s distraction these past weeks. 

Uneasiness clung to (y/n) as she clicked on Charlie’s contact, having to deeply exhale before pressing the phone to her ear. She counted every ring, while slowly losing hope that the Chief would pick up the phone if he was currently working. But seconds before she’d be sent to voicemail, she was graced by Charlie’s raspy voice. 

“Hello?” Something about the man’s voice left (y/n) trembling, having to clear her throat before she could focus on what she wanted to ask him.

“Hello, Chief Swan, this is (y/n), Bella’s friend.” She pressed her free palm against her trembling knee, hoping that she could ground herself as her nervousness kept flushing through her. 

“(Y/n), yes, of course. Are you alright? Is Bella okay?” The concern dripping from his voice left (y/n) smiling. Bella hadn’t told her much about Charlie, but the things the young girl had told her, had been enough to leave (y/n) intrigued. Something about the things Bella had told her, hadn’t matched up, leaving her aching for the man who was undoubtedly missing his daughter. 

“I don’t know. She was supposed to wait here for me, at your house, but it seems as if nobody is at home, I can’t reach her.” The groan leaving Charlie drew a soft gasp from (y/n), wondering why he was overcome by this clear wave of annoyance. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n), she’s out with her boyfriend. Give me a few minutes, I’ll come home to let you into the house!”

……

“I honestly wouldn’t mind taking the couch, Charlie.” Charlie had arrived at the house a while ago, greeting (y/n) with a soft smile that had instantly made heat buzz through her system. She had only seen a few pictures of the man before, and none of them were doing him justice. Charlie Swan was handsome, more handsome than (y/n) had imagined, leaving her slightly distracted as he guided her through the house. 

“No, don’t worry. I have to get up for work early anyway, I would only wake you.” She followed him back downstairs into the kitchen, watching him reach for two cups. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” The smile playing on her lips kept growing as Charlie poured both of them their coffee before placing the cups down on the table. “So, Bella didn’t tell me about her boyfriend. Who is he?” 

“His name is Edward, they met at school. He’s the son of Doctor Cullen, a friend of sorts.” The lack of emotions dripping from Charlie’s words left (y/n) smiling, instantly picking up on the chief’s dislike of Edward. (Y/n) studied him for a moment, taking in the clear confusion and annoyance as well as a hint of sadness. 

“Well, you know, I’ve been around Bella for years now, and I’m sure he takes good care of her if she is that focused on him.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her hand from finding Charlie’s, softly squeezing before she pulled away again. His eyes followed her movements, seemingly as shaken up by the electricity that had buzzed through them the second their hands touched. 

“She should be proud to call you her friend, (y/n).” She had met Bella years ago, had helped around their house every now and then and had stepped in as a helping hand whenever Renée and Phil had left the city, given that (y/n) was a couple of years older than Bella. She had always supported the girl through whatever she needed, feeling like her older sister – ready to help her through every uneasy water she had been forced to sail through. 

“That’s nice of you, thank you, Charlie.” Their eyes held contact as (y/n) took another sip of her coffee. “So, do you have any tips for me? I think I’d like to explore Forks while Bella is out.” 

……

“Dad?” Bella’s voice echoed through the house. It was dark out, a comforting darkness that wrapped (y/n) and Charlie in its embrace as they found themselves surrounded by soft lights and candles. 

Charlie had shown (y/n) around town for the past hours before they had eaten out at the diner. The conversation between them had flown all too effortlessly, guiding them from one place to the other as if they were old friends, connected through shared memories and unspoken emotions. 

“Hey, Bells.” The girl stepped into the room, freezing in her step as her eyes found (y/n)’s features. Bella’s smile instantly fell, groaning with her head rolling back while speaking a few curses. “(Y/n), god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot you were coming today.” 

“It’s alright. Your dad kept me company.” Her eyes found their way back to Charlie, who shot (y/n) a soft smile, before redirecting his gaze towards his daughter. Bella seemed all too oblivious, not picking up on whatever was lingering between Charlie and (y/n), seemingly still focused on her afternoon with Edward. 

“How are the Cullens?” Charlie’s soft voice left (y/n) smiling. He had told her all about his dislike for the boy, and yet he still cared enough to hear about Bella’s experiences, her adventures, and whatever she was doing when she met up with the rather tense boy. 

“Good! I can’t wait to introduce you to them, (y/n). I think I’ll head to bed now, but how about we grab some breakfast in the morning?” (Y/n) could only nod as Bella disappeared upstairs, leaving her wondering if Bella even cared about her visit after all. Charlie seemed to pick up on her confused expression, letting his hand rest on her knee to softly squeeze it. 

“As much as I hate it, she’s in love. I’m sorry, she is so distracted these days. But feel free to call me tomorrow if she bails on you again, I’m not working in the afternoon.” 

……

“Hi, excuse me, is Chief Swan still in?” She smiled at the policeman who studied her with an unreadable expression. He turned from her to call for Charlie, watching the chief appear a moment later. (Y/n)’s eyes found his, drawing a soft smile to his lips as he guided her towards him with a simple hand movement. 

“Where’s Bells?” Charlie allowed her to step into his office, closing the door behind them to offer some privacy. (Y/n) plopped down in one of the leather chairs as Charlie took a seat himself, keeping his eyes on her with every movement. His office had an almost cosy touch to it, warmer than she had expected it to be. 

“She seemed quite antsy the longer I kept her from Edward, so I told her I’d roam the town on my own for a bit.” (Y/n) could tell that Charlie struggled to keep his eyes from rolling, while he sunk further down into his chair. They held eye contact as she let go of a soft chuckle, feeling sympathy for the dad of her friend who clearly struggled to accept his daughter’s boyfriend. 

“Well, I’m off in a few minutes, how about I take you to the beach I told you about yesterday?” The gratefulness she felt pushed heat through her body, a desperate heat that made it harder for her to ignore the growing crush she had on her friend’s father. (Y/n) could only murmur a barely audible “That’d be lovely” as Charlie turned back towards his computer to finish his report. 

It didn’t take long for him to stop writing, before guiding her out of the station and to his car. Soft music filled the small space as they drove through Forks, allowing Charlie to tell her some more stories of the town he had loved for years. She felt unusually comfortable around Charlie, searching his closeness as if he were an old friend, a lover she had been with for years, an all too familiar sensation she hadn’t felt with anybody else. 

“There we go, do you have a jacket with you?” Rain was falling from the sky as Charlie parked the car. Their eyes met, and for a second, (y/n) lost all strength to speak, fighting against the pull she felt deep inside of herself. She couldn’t cross that line, couldn’t try and move closer to her friend’s father, but it almost pained her to keep her distance. 

“Uhm, no, but it’s alright, I don’t care about the rain.” Charlie’s soft chuckles filled the car before he opened his door and stepped outside. She watched him open the trunk to pull out an umbrella before he found his way to her side. With the umbrella covering both of them, Charlie guided her towards the empty beach, watching the waves rush ashore as if they were racing one another. 

No words were spoken between them as she kept clinging to him, with her arm wrapped around his. The warmth Charlie emanated left her searching for his closeness, set on feeling him as close as he allowed her to. They walked along the beach with wandering eyes, taking in their surroundings, the dark sky and the high waves, letting an unusually calm atmosphere flush through them. 

“It’s funny how nothing around here has changed over the years.” He almost whispered the words, luring (y/n)’s curious gaze towards his handsome features. Charlie was already looking at her, wearing a soft smile on his lips as he slowly moved his hand, stroking one of the hair strands that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Shudders shot down her spine, pulling her closer to Charlie. 

“Did you ever think of leaving?” (Y/n) matched the quiet tone of his voice, she kept staring up at him as Charlie’s hand lingered on her cheek. His thumb explored her cheek, stroking her soft skin as if he had lost all will to fight against what was buzzing between them. She tried not to move, tried to stop herself from crossing the small distance between them, but the longing swimming in his pupils made it harder for (y/n) to hold still. 

“Tell me to stop, (y/n).” It was a soft plead, words (y/n) couldn’t reply to as she shifted her weight and finally pressed her lips against Charlie’s. The kiss left her lips tingling, letting the sensation buzz through her body as if lightning had struck them. She slung her arms around his neck, groaning at the sensation of his beard scratching her skin – a sensation that made heat pool between her thighs. 

His free hand found her waist to pull her against him, while their tongues met, deepening the kiss as rain kept pouring down on them. Only as the sound of thunder roaring in the sky echoed through their ears did they pull away. Both were heavily breathing, staring at one another with bright smiles that left them chuckling, feeling like teenagers in love. 

“Come, let’s get back to the car.” Charlie guided her along the beach, back to the empty parking lot. She felt giddy with every step they took, wondering how the next moments would play out while very well knowing that she hadn’t gotten enough of Charlie. She needed more, needed whatever he could offer her. 

Charlie pressed her against the car without another warning, kissing (y/n) again as if they were lovers reunited after years apart. Their movements were guided by an unfamiliar longing, something both hadn’t cared for these past years. 

He parted from (y/n) with a soft sigh before he opened the car door for her, letting her get inside as he did the same on his side. The comfort the car offered wrapped them in its embrace, drawing relieved sighs from them while the rain kept pitter-pattering down on his windows. Their eyes kept holding contact as (y/n) pondered over her choices, unable to bite down her grin. 

“Pull back your seat, Charlie.” He needed a moment before he set into motion, pulling back the seat enough for (y/n) to climb over the middle console and find comfort in his lap. Their lips searched one another like pilgrims, drawing groans and moans, filled with a desperation that urged (y/n) on to move her hips, grinding against his middle. The throaty groan that broke through Charlie left her grinning in success while she moved her hips again, feeling him grow beneath her. 

“We have to stop before I won’t be able to pull away, baby.” His words drew a whine out of (y/n), her lips were kissing their way down his throat as her hands worked on his belt, not daring to think of stopping. Charlie’s hand found her throat, forcing (y/n) to look at him as her hands stopped moving. 

“Charlie, I want this, I want you.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him groaning, forcing him to slowly nod to wordlessly allow her hands to keep on moving. With a grin stuck to her lips, she freed his hardening cock before she spat into her hand to pump him. Her walls fluttered around nothing, begging to be filled by him, needing to feel Charlie spread her. 

“I don’t have anything on me.” She let her eyes flicker up to meet his stormy ones, getting lost in his gaze for a few seconds as she kept moving her hand, feeling him twitch in her grasp. 

“I’m on the pill.” Grateful that she was wearing a dress, (y/n) began to shift on his lap, searching his lips for another kiss as she positioned herself over his cock. Their moans were swallowed by the kiss, echoing through the car while (y/n) sank down on him. For a moment, both held still, having to adjust to the new sensation, getting used to the way their bodies fit together all too perfectly. 

“You feel so good, baby, fuck.” His words encouraged (y/n) to keep on moving, supported by his hands that guided her. She grew wetter by the second, letting her arousal coat his cock with every hasty movement, chasing an orgasm that was already close. Both knew that this wouldn’t last long, having to get this first orgasm out of the way before he could properly fuck her back at home, touching her like she deserved to be touched. 

“Such a good girl, my pretty girl.” Charlie’s praises made her walls flutter, clenching down around him to push them both closer to the edge. (Y/n) kept moving, kept fucking herself on his cock with cries breaking out of her the second his fingers found her pulsing bundle, adding more friction to every movement. 

“Charlie,” she sobbed his name as her eyes fluttered close, knowing she’d cum soon, letting go with his name clawing through her any moment now. He began to meet her thrusts, pushing his cock even deeper into her tightness to watch her come undone on top of him. 

“Look at me, baby, look at me when you cum.” Their eyes found back together as (y/n) came with a cry, letting his name break through her. His hands kept supporting her, chasing his own orgasm while fucking into her. They were a trembling mess of tangled limbs, and yet both felt more relieved than ever before, thanking their lucky stars for pushing them together. Charlie followed her seconds later, letting go with a deep growl that forced (y/n) to shudder against him. 

“Fuck,” Charlie’s pants left (y/n) chuckling. He was still buried inside of her, even as she pressed herself against his chest, focused on the racing beat of his heart. He held onto her with his arm slung over her back, not daring to let go of the woman who fit into his grasp a tad bit too well. 

“I don’t know how we will tell Bella about this.” Her whispers rang in his ears, forcing a gritty chuckle from Charlie while pondering over her words. 

“I doubt she will notice anything while she is that distracted by her boyfriend.” And with a hum clawing through (y/n), she lifted her head to look at him. Another soft kiss was shared between them, wordlessly communicating their every emotion that grew stronger by the second.

[azrielwingspan]

SHATTERED (AZRIEL X READER)

Summary : You finally scraped up enough courage to tell Azriel how you felt. Unfortunately, not everything is meant to be.

Warnings : ANGSTTTTT, ANGSTTT.

Joy rushed through you as you took a moment to pause and look around. Your closest friends and family were gathered in your house taking a break from all the chaos plaguing your world.

Laughter poured out uninhibited, memories were shared and a cocoon of comfort and love was created. This was all you had ever wanted. This was everything you fought for. This was everything you had sacrificed the innocent part of yourself for.

Sighing in contentment, you let a memory from a couple of years back wash over you.

"I-I don't want you to go." you sobbed holding onto Azriel's hand. "P-Please Az. What if you---" you couldn't finish the sentence, just the thought of it sending more tears running down your sweaty and blood stained face.

"Y/N, I have to help them. I can't stand by and watch the others get slaughtered. I can't live with that regret Y/N, it's a slow death. At least this way, death might find me faster." Azriel pulled you to him, holding the back of your head close to his chest as you sobbed harder.

You couldn't be selfish. You knew your chance of winning would increase drastically if Azriel went out there. Even if it was at the cost of his own life. Yet, you couldn't help but regret all the moments you didn't have because you couldn't confess to him your true feelings.

You had been close friends for so long, you couldn't recall your life before him. The days felt brighter and happier, the nights were filled with drinks and laughter. He knew everything about you.

Almost everything.

You didn't know exactly when your feelings blossomed into something more but it was all you could think about most days. The colour of his eyes, the way he laughed with his head thrown back, the warm hugs he gave when he greeted you , the comforting touches on your arm when you were anxious about something.

Soon enough, you had started to notice the more...physical aspects. The way his tanned skin glistened with sweat after a training session, the curl of his biceps as he lifted his sword, the way his powerful back muscles stretched and defined the lines of his back and his tattoos. For the love of the Cauldron, his tattoos. Once, after a particularly intense training session, he'd taken off his shirt to cool off. A bead of sweat had trailed down his shoulders over the lines of his tattoos. You had wondered what it would feel like to chase it with your tongue and lick it off. A cold soak was how you had spent the rest of your afternoon.

You'd been so conflicted with your own emotions, you didn't have the nerve to tell him how you'd felt.

But now ? When this might be the last moment the both of you would ever share together ?

No. No. You couldn't do that to him. He needed to be focused out there. You wouldn't do that to him. Instead, you drew away from his chest and placed your hand on the back of his neck pulling his forehead to yours.

"You come back to me. Okay? You come back to me and I will tell you something I've never had the courage to tell you before okay?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and yet he nodded in agreement, his eyes hardening with resolve. Good. Placing a chaste kiss on your forehead in farewell , he left you alone in the dark confines of the room.

"Where did you go ?" a voice broke you out of your memory, bringing you back to reality. The stark contrast between the both made a rush of gratefulness encompass you.

"Was thinking about something." you said, shooting a smile at Cassian. His eyes darted across your face, understanding dawning upon him. "It's real." he said softly, gently squeezing your hand. "The war is over. We're all here and alive."

Emotions welled up inside you filling you to the brim and lining your eyes with tears. Sniffling lightly, you turned your head to discreetly wipe away a tear that had escaped.

Cassian's arm wrapped around you, tugging you closer to him. "Bask in the moment, Y/N. Everyone here loves you, let it heal you."

The both of you made your way to the seating area where everyone was sprawled. Your eyes met Azriel's, who was already looking at you with a slightly concerned look on his face. You gave him a reassuring smile gesturing to him that everything was alright. Satisfied with your answer, he continued his conversation with Feyre.

You needed to tell him tonight. It didn't matter if he reciprocated it or not. You needed to get it off of your chest so you could move on with your life. Your mind pulled you back into another memory reminding you of what had happened the last time you tried telling him.

It was over. They were alive. He was alive. You waited at the entrance to the healers tent where he was being treated with your hands trembling and heart pounding. You had to see him with your own eyes. Drink your fill. You thanked the Cauldron and the Mother and every other entity that the people of Prythian believed in for keeping him alive.

The healer stepped out of the tent and got startled when she almost ran into you. "Sorry." you said sheepishly, trying to peer around her into the area within. Following your line of sight, the healer let a small smile come onto her face. "He's fine. He'll be out in a moment."

Bowing your head in thanks, feet tapping to expel the nervous energy, you continued your vigil for a few more minutes.

Your felt him before you saw him. His scent enveloped you in a warm embrace dispelling your nervous energy and replacing it with relief. A grin broke out on your face, hands reaching out to him to tug him into an embrace.

You buried your face in his neck, making sure not to put pressure on his wounds.

"It's over Y/N. It's all over." Azriel's voice cracked as he held you close.

Tell him. Your mind screamed at you trying to overcome the barriers you had kept up. Pulling back , you stared up at his face your mouth opening and closing as you tried to gather your thoughts and form a coherent sentence.

Steeling your resolve, you pushed yourself over the line you'd drawn.

"Az...I---"

You paused as you watched his eyes widen at something behind you. Relief and something else..something you couldn't decipher but spoke volumes morphed his face.

"Mor..." he breathed out before letting go of you, the loss of touch feeling like a punch to the gut.

He rushed towards Mor who had been standing behind you at a distance nursing her own wounds. The cold air slammed into you at the loss of his body heat as if reminding you of your place in his life. Temporary.

You felt horrible. Mor had been injured as well and instead of helping her out, here you were feeling pitiful as you watched Azriel walk away. You couldn't move. You were frozen to the spot, a few tendrils of your hair whipping around you as the sting of the cold reddened your cheeks and cracked your lips.

You watched unblinking as he made his way to Mor , cradled her face in his hands and crushed her into a hug. You watched unblinking as his posture turned from tensed to relaxed the moment he hugged her. You watched unblinking as he shuffled away with her deeper into the camp.

Leaving you behind.

"You're doing that thing again." a voice broke you out of the memory yet again. This time it was Azriel. He'd switched places with Cassian, settling down on the floor next to you.

"Sorry. Long day." you said scooting closer to him as he draped an arm around you casually. You clinked your glasses and took a sip of your drinks settling into comfortable silence.

You'd noticed over the past few months that he'd stopped giving Mor longing looks and heated glances. The hope and feelings that you'd buried deep inside had come back to life despite your efforts to ignore them. Maybe you were foolish. But you'd never know unless you finally let it out. It was becoming too heavy for you to carry on your own.

"Az.." you said softly.

"Hmm..?" he leaned closer bringing his ear to your lips. Head buzzing at the proximity, you tried not to stammer as you said "I need to speak to you about something. Can you come to my room later?"

"Yeah sure. Everything okay?" he asked pulling back to look into your eyes.

"Y-Yeah."

"Liar." he murmured, eyes darting over your face. "You're nervous."

You gulped instinctively, his eyes taking note of the small action. He didn't miss anything. Except the one thing that mattered the most. He had somehow never figured out that his best friend is in love with him.

"Let's go now." he said bracing his hands on the floor to stand up.

"No...but..." you looked up at him dumbfounded.

"Everyone is going to head to bed soon. They're just waiting for someone to make the first move." he grinned holding out his hand for you to take.

Letting the warmth of his hand ground you, you stood up and dusted off your pants. You didn't notice the set of eyes that trailed you both as you left the room.

You went through all the possible scenarios in you head , braving yourself against the whirlwind of emotions that were about to be exposed. Now or never.

"Y/N." You stopped in your tracks noticing that Azriel wasn't beside you. Turning around, you saw him observing a flower pot that you had purchased from the market recently.

"Since when did you stop and stare at flowers?" you laughed walking back towards him.

A slight blush rose up on his cheeks making your smile broader.

"I got it at the market. Redecorating the whole place because I wanted it to be more lively. Do you like ?"

"Yes." he whispered as your face started giving way to confusion. He was acting very strange.

"It's just a plant Az. If you like it, have it. I'll just get another one." you watched his face closely.

"No..no I won't take it. I was just admiring it." He straightened up, pulling his eyes away from the plant.

"Ooookay, if you say so." you said brushing away the confusion. Yet, a bad feeling had taken root in your stomach. Nerves, you told yourself brushing that away as well.

"Actually..." he cleared his throat. "Can you give me the name of the seller. Maybe I'll get one for...myself." He wouldn't meet your eyes instead choosing to look right past you. He looked embarrassed, maybe shy even.

The bad feeling pushed its roots deeper, curling itself around you and making its way to the heart. You suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

However, you managed to choke out "Yourself? Or...someone, Az?"

He shuffled his feet , scratching the nape of his neck.

The roots reached your heart, slowly squeezing and fracturing the already delicate thing. You didn't need him to say the name. The sweet beautiful girl who had caught his eye. The female who was everything you weren't. The stark opposite.

"E-Elain?" you rasped, willing yourself to not show any reaction.

A faint smile appeared on his face at hearing her name.

Oh.

Oh.

You know the moment in time when you realise that something will impact you so detrimentally , you will never be the same again?

This moment defined it.

You almost heard your heart shatter...all over again.

Unfortunately this time, you didn't know if you had the energy to pick up the pieces and put them back together.

You felt hot and cold at the same time, frozen in time but feeling the burn in your eyes and heart. You'd gone still, oh so still wondering and horrified about how you would deal with this.

You'll never be his first choice. Your mind whispered making your heart clench painfully.

"Y/N?" Azriel stepped forward , concern etched into his face.

You instinctively stepped back, hoping that physical distance could repair something ..... anything within you.

Hurt flashed across his features as he noted the movement. You were exhausted . You were so tired of hiding your emotions behind a shield.

So you let him see.

You let him see the pain, the love, the anger, the regret and the fear behind your eyes.

You let him see the tears that trailed down your face and the tremble of your hands.

You let him see what you could've been and what would never be anymore.

Once the understanding dawned upon him, you turned around and walked away leaving behind the fragments of your heart at his feet.

A/N: That was DRAMATIC SHEEESH.

[laurfilijames]

Worst Way

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mention of mutual masturbation/video call sex. Unprotected intercourse. Will in that polo shirt.

Summary: Will comes home from doing a stint of talks and his only priority is getting his fill of you, your time apart making him need you in the worst way.

A/N: I've been listening to this song on repeat and needed to write about it, and the character I felt that fit it the best was our Captain Miller. We'll consider this a little early birthday treat to myself, I was going to wait until Tuesday to post it but I'm too excited! A big thank you to @spaghettificationandpretzels for making me the beautiful banners to use!

---

In the grand scheme of things, five days was a blink compared to the amount of days he’d been away from you before, but as he drew closer to being home, Will’s impatience to get there was becoming nearly unbearable.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, the leather feeling cool to his palm that was hot from his eagerness and holding it in the same spot for too long now, glancing at his watch on his wrist where he calculated he had exactly two hours and fifty-three minutes left until he would pull in the driveway.

Each day had been the same; driving from base to base all along the coast from Tampa to Houston, waking up in an uncomfortable motel bed he tried hard not to think about how many other people had laid in doing god knows what, and giving his memorized speech to a different room full of candidates considering signing on to be part of the Special Forces.

It was all automatic by now, having said the same words one hundred and ninety-two times, his mind able to drift off to what you were doing as he spoke without a second thought, wondering if you were making coffee in the kitchen wearing just his hoodie and your underwear, or if you were cleaning the house, feeling jealous of your fingers grazing over every surface and all the belongings that made up your home.

He imagined your smile; greeting the cashier warmly as you placed groceries onto the belt from the cart, grinning as you said thank you to the older gentleman who held the door open for you as you left the store, and knowing he was so close to seeing it for himself again kept him hanging on to get through each long day without you.

Late night video calls and texts sent between lectures helped carry him through, feeling grateful to at least have that compared to what little communication he would have when he was deployed, a crooked grin tugging his lip up as he thought to your last video call from the night before; both of you laying naked in your separate beds, touching yourselves in ways that were instructed by the other, the sounds of your moans brought on by your own hand still repeating in Will’s mind now.

He adjusted in his seat, his right foot pressing on the accelerator with slightly more pressure, the need to get home and have you increasing to a level he couldn’t tolerate anymore than he already had.

Rain started speckling on the windshield, a few drops at first before turning into a steady fall, the streams of it on the glass reminding him of all the showers you had solo in his absence, feeling envious of the water running down your skin and every curve, imagining you slipping into your bedsheets with drops still clinging to you and marking the cotton with darker spots.

Will wondered if it was raining at home, too, if you were sitting on the porch watching it pour, always loving the sound of the rolling thunder and the tapping of each drop on the roof, or if the skies were clear as the sun started to go down, picturing the pinkish-orange light casting on your skin to make it glow in its golden hour.

With a sigh, he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, accepting that no matter how much he continued to dream about you, it wouldn’t bring him any closer to home any faster, accepting that he had to live through each of these minutes in full until he was able to have his hands on you again.

With the sun now tucked behind the horizon and the ground saturated with water, Will slammed the door to his truck, leaving his bags in the back seat to get tomorrow, nothing more important than getting inside the house and getting his hands on you.

His boots ground against the wet pavement as he took purposeful strides to reach the front door, quickly inserting the key into the deadbolt and unlocking it, the smell of home and of you filling his nose as soon as he turned the handle and stepped inside.

Before he could close the door behind him, you walked around the corner from the hallway leading to your bedroom, your smile making his heart leap in his chest as you locked eyes with him.

You rushed into his arms, your body warm and soft, the feel of your hands carding up his back making goosebumps break out on his skin. You both peeled away from each other slightly, exchanging a look that spoke more than words could before crashing your lips together, a shared moan transferring between your mouths as the desperation you both felt finally set in.

Will kicked the door shut with his foot, making it slam so hard the walls shook, his hands tearing to get to your form that was covered by an oversized t-shirt and quickly discovering that was all you had on.

He growled against your lips, his hands squeezing your bare ass and spreading your cheeks slightly, feeling you press your hips forward into his in a silent request for more.

Your chest rubbed against his body, the tight fit of his polo allowing him to feel how hard your nipples were through both of your shirts, your arousal clearly having built up as much as his had in anticipation of his arrival.

He felt drunk with lust, his senses working primally as everything about you made him feral, your scent and touch breaking him down to be nothing more than a man who needed his woman in the most raw and cardinal way.

Will grabbed at the hem of your shirt and ripped it up and off of you, his hand gripping your jawline when he met you in another claiming kiss, hearing your breathy moan die out in his mouth.

He forced himself to stop, his chest heaving as he broke the seal of your lips, seeing yours already puffy from his beard chafing against them and wet from his kiss.

You looked heavenly standing before him; naked and stunning, equally as vulnerable as you were strong, your frame small in the shadow of his. But what made him feel powerful was the love and lust held in your eyes, your heavy gaze consenting for him to take you how he needed, knowing you craved him as much as he did you as you shifted on the spot you stood, squeezing your thighs together while arching your back so your chest stook out.

A crooked, half-smile dressed his lips as he took a step toward you again, backing you up against the wall and shoving his thigh between your legs, watching with complete satisfaction as you closed your eyes at the feel of your bare sex contacting the rough denim of his jeans.

He dipped his head and latched onto your neck, sucking and nipping at your tender skin, making you squirm against him and begin to ride his thigh, his hand slapping the painted drywall beside your head.

His fingers dug into the flesh on your hips with his other hand, clawing at you in a way he knew might leave bruises but that you also loved, aiding your movements on him as you ground back and forth.

“Will…” you whined, his name the only word uttered between you so far, the sound of it coming off your tongue so desperately in combination with how your hands clawed at his shoulders encouraging him to kiss your neck even more and press his leg up harder against your core.

His mouth traveled upward along your throat and under your chin, pulling your earlobe with his teeth before making his way back to your lips, growling when your hands ran over his straining cock in his jeans and then tugged at his shirt to untuck it from his waist.

He lifted his arms for you to whisk it over his head, returning to your mouth instantly while your soft hands smoothed over his bare chest, his skin feeling like it was lit on fire wherever your palms had laid.

You worked next on his belt, the sound of the metal clanking undone and then his zipper sliding open almost lost in the wet smack of your lips, your fingers sliding behind his back to pull his jeans along with his boxer-briefs down over his ass. They fell at his feet and he stepped out of them as quickly as he could, holding your face in his hands to try to keep you near him, but feeling you sink away from him as you dropped to your knees.

The look in your eyes as you stared up at him made his cock throb even more, and when you took it in your hand and stroked it while bringing your lips to the tip, he knew he couldn’t go a second longer without being inside you, having you take him in your mouth not even enough to sate his need.

Will knelt in front of you, grabbing your face again as he kissed you hard, leaning his body forward to guide you back to lay you down beneath him.

Spread out beautifully for him, he covered you, his cock finding your entrance without assistance, and with the slight movement of his hips, he pushed inside your wet hole and stretched you out.

Your cry was suffocated by his tongue, your back arching off the floor as you succumbed to his size, and Will allowed no time for you to adjust, pulling out of you before slamming back in again.

His thrusts were powerful and unbroken, determined to give you everything you needed while taking from you everything he could, his pleasure controlling all of him and blinding any restraint he had left.

You met him with equal fervor, rolling your hips with his with a similar goal in mind, chasing what only he could provide you, feeling you get wetter by the second and already soaking his dick and groin.

Will held onto you tight, nearing his end, his hands grabbing at any part of you he was able to keep you as close to him as he could while he hammered into you, your cunt clenching around him in a way he knew that signalled you were about to come apart too.

Your nails scratched his back wildly, muscles tensing and straining in both of your bodies as you rode through your climaxes, Will continuing to pump in and out of you frantically as he coated your walls and filled you completely.

Feeling you contract around him again, he didn’t relent, fucking you more with all he had left as a second orgasm took hold of you, the feel of his cum leaking out of you extending your high in the most addicting way.

His panting breaths filled your mouth as your kisses began to slow, feeling you relax under him as he settled his pace until he eventually stilled in you, his hand smoothing over your forehead where he looked at you smiling sweetly at him after he’d peeled his face away from yours.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he purred, finally giving you a proper greeting.

You giggled softly, your finger tracing the crease beside his mouth. “Welcome home, Will.”

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi

[inkspiredwriting]

Meet the In-Laws

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

The time had come, and as much as Five tried to maintain his usual stoic demeanor, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Y/N, sensing his unease, gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"They're going to love you," she said with a warm smile. "Just be yourself."

"Right," Five muttered, straightening his tie. "Be myself."

They arrived at Y/N's family home, a charming house with a perfectly manicured lawn and a welcoming front porch. The door opened before they could even ring the bell, and Y/N's mother, Susan, greeted them with open arms.

"Y/N! It's so good to see you!" Susan exclaimed, hugging her daughter tightly. She then turned to Five, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And you must be Five. We've heard so much about you."

Five extended his hand, giving her a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompson."

"Oh, call me Susan," she said, waving off the formality. "Come in, come in!"

They stepped inside, and Five was immediately introduced to the rest of the family: Y/N's father, Robert, her younger brother, Mark, and her older sister, Emily. The room was filled with warmth and the smell of a home-cooked meal.

"So, Five," Robert began as they settled into the living room. "Y/N tells us you have quite an interesting background."

Five glanced at Y/N, who gave him an encouraging nod. "You could say that," he replied, trying to keep his explanation simple. "I've had some...unique experiences."

"Unique? That's an understatement," Y/N interjected with a laugh. "Five here has traveled through time and saved the world more times than I can count."

The family chuckled, but Five noticed the curious glances being exchanged. He decided to steer the conversation to safer ground. "So, what do you do, Mr. Thompson?"

Robert launched into a story about his career, and the conversation flowed more easily. Five found himself relaxing a bit, the initial tension easing as he got to know Y/N's family.

Dinner was an elaborate affair, with Susan going all out to impress their guest. The table was laden with delicious dishes, and Five couldn't help but appreciate the effort. They all gathered around, and as the meal progressed, the questions continued.

"So, Five," Emily said, leaning forward with a grin. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?"

Five paused, thinking of the myriad of wild experiences he'd had. "Well, there was that time I fought a squad of armed agents while trying to stop an apocalypse," he said casually, causing the family to erupt in laughter.

As the evening went on, Five found himself genuinely enjoying the company of Y/N's family. They were warm, welcoming, and had a great sense of humor. He could see where Y/N got her kindness and strength from.

After dinner, as they sat around the living room with coffee and dessert, Susan leaned over to Five. "You know, we've always worried about Y/N finding someone who could keep up with her. But I think you've proven you're more than up to the task."

Five smiled, feeling a swell of gratitude. "I'm very lucky to have her."

Y/N beamed at him, squeezing his hand. "And I'm lucky to have you."

Just then, Mark, who had been mostly quiet throughout the evening, spoke up. "So, Five, do you think you could teach me some of those time-traveling tricks?"

Five laughed, shaking his head. "It's a bit more complicated than it sounds, but maybe I could show you a thing or two."

The night drew to a close, and as they prepared to leave, Susan hugged Five warmly. "You're part of the family now, Five. Don't be a stranger."

"Thank you, Susan," Five said sincerely. "I'll definitely be back."

As they walked back to the car, Y/N looked up at Five, her eyes shining. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Five wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "No, it wasn't. Your family is wonderful."

Y/N smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad you think so. They really do like you."

Five kissed the top of her head, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "And I really like them. But most of all, I love you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. "I love you too, Five."

As they drove away, Five couldn't help but feel that he had gained more than just a family that night. He had found a home, a place where he truly belonged, with the woman he loved by his side.

[maraschinomerry]

Meddling Git

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: When George connects with Arif's new shop assistant, Lockwood makes it his mission to make more opportunities for them to meet

Content: fluff, meddling Lockwood, insecurity about agent work, slight mention of blood

A/N: I'm back!! After an unintentional 7 month hiatus, I've finally been inspired to write again! I've also decided to switch from using (name) to y/n if anyone has any opinions on that. Thank you to everyone who shared anniversary/meet content for reminding me how much I love this fandom, and all my love to the multiverse of George chat for giving me so much inspiration and encouragement 💛

Word count: 4k exactly!

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 and also tagging @bobbys-not-that-small @bella-rose29 @oblivious-idiot @uku-lelevillain @lewkwoodnco

Lockwood, Lucy and George marched proudly towards Arif's. They'd completed another house call and been tipped generously by the owner, so Lockwood had promised to treat the team to breakfast. Of course, with the first rays of the morning only just beginning to peek through the clouds, there weren't any cafes open yet.

“I'll cook,” George offered, “as long as you buy the ingredients…”

“Of course.”

“...and those strawberry cream doughnuts.”

“Fine,” Lockwood rolled his eyes dramatically. Lucy grinned.

The bell above the door rang out lightly. Only agents would be around at this hour, and Lockwood & Co was the only agency who ever came to Arif's. In fact, their presence was so regular that the boy who worked the morning shift, Max, would greet them before they even came into view. Today, however, the shop remained silent.

“Morning, Max!” Lockwood called over a shelf when the quiet lasted a moment too long. “I don't suppose you have any of the strawb-” He hesitated as the group rounded the corner and finally came into view of the counter.

—

You frowned a little to yourself at the gentle chime of the bell. Surely there wouldn't be anybody about this early? Though you couldn't see the front door from behind the counter (a bit of a security flaw, you reckoned) there was a small window to your left which showed only the slightest hint of sunlight. Then again, Arif had mentioned a group of agents that would come by often. You weren't aware there was a local agency, but you were so new to both the area and the job that you didn't like to question it. The bell had been followed by overlapping footsteps and more than one hushed voice. Maybe this was them.

“Morning, Max!” one of the voices suddenly spoke up, a little deeper than you expected but unmistakably that of a boy and not a man. The footsteps drew closer. “I don't suppose you have any of the strawb-” At last the owner of the voice appeared from behind a shelf. The words stuttered to a stop, as did the movements of the tall boy in the black overcoat. Behind him, a girl in a blue jumper almost ran into him with the sudden pause.

“You're not Max,” she stated bluntly.

“No, I'm not.”

“Is he…?”

“Moved back to Cornwall with his parents,” you reassured her. You knew what it was like, wondering whether someone's absence meant the Problem had claimed another victim. “I'm y/n.”

“Well,” the boy cut back in with a charming smile, “morning, y/n. I'm Lockwood, this is Lucy, and George is around somewhere. As I was saying, do you happen to have any of those strawberry cream doughnuts?”

You returned his smile with one of your own as you fetched a square box from the chilled cabinet. “You're in luck, but I suppose you'll have to fight over who gets the fourth.”

“We won't,” another boy piped up from the far corner of the shop - George, you assumed. “If I'm making breakfast, I'm calling dibs.” Lucy giggled and you felt yourself suppressing one of your own.

“You'll have to forgive George, he's-” Lockwood began.

“No, no, he's got a point.”

“Finally, somebody gets it!” George's voice sounded triumphant, and much closer than before. After a beat, he arrived and you were able to put a face to the voice.

George was taller than Lucy but a little shorter than Lockwood, with dark curly hair and round glasses. Under his jacket was a vibrantly orange T-shirt, and in his arms he cradled a carton of eggs and a few different vegetables. He shuffled closer, attempting to place the produce on the counter without dropping the eggs but having trapped his hand in too awkward a position to keep a good hold of them.

“Let me,” you found yourself leaning over the counter, your fingers brushing the crook of his elbow as you rescued the carton and set it down gently. The boy blinked at you in surprise before quickly recovering and placing down the bulb of garlic he was holding. “What are you making?”

“Gojeh farangi, a sort of omelette.”

“Sounds good.” You handed him the ingredients, now bagged, and slid the box of doughnuts towards him as well. Lockwood stepped forwards with a handful of cash, and George shrunk back.

“It's been a pleasure meeting you, y/n,” Lockwood gave you another of those smiles. You got the sense he was the head of the team, the diplomat, the charisma. “No doubt we'll see you again.”

“Nice to meet you all too. I'll be here most mornings, in case you want to beat the regular crowd to the good doughnuts.” Without realising, you found yourself directing the latter part to the other boy, and you could have sworn you saw a flush tint his cheeks as he gave a slight smile and a nod of acknowledgement. What you didn't see was the glance exchanged by the other two.

—

The trio were back at Portland Row, the kitchen filled with the smell of fresh tomatoes and the glow of a job well done.

“Y/n seemed nice,” Lucy remarked as casually as possible.

“Mm,” Lockwood agreed into his cup of tea. “What did you think, George?”

They turned their attention quite unsubtly to their friend at the oven. He stayed with his back to them, and they couldn't be sure it was just because he was focused on breakfast, as he shrugged. “Suppose so. Didn't get much chance to judge.” He turned at last, not making eye contact as he slid two plates across the table.

“Ah well,” Lockwood continued after thanking George, who had turned away to collect his own plate, and he took the opportunity to throw Lucy a conspiratorial wink. “Plenty of time for that.”

Lucy almost choked on her mouthful.

The next day, George was halfway down the main stairs on the way to the training room when Lockwood poked his head out of his room. His hair was dishevelled, the collar of his shirt was wide open and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck.

“Ah, George! Do me a favour and run down to Arif's? We're out of detergent.”

“Why can't you go?”

“I've got that meeting with Mrs Pemberley to go over the details of the case and I'm running late as it is.”

“And Lucy-”

“Has gone to see Barnes.”

“Right.”

George held the door open for an elderly man just leaving the shop before slipping inside. He made his way to the detergent, stopping for a packet of chocolate digestives. Seeing you at the counter made him falter a little. You'd said you worked mornings, but it was almost lunchtime and he thought someone might have taken over by now.

“Oh, hello,” you greeted him cheerily. “Didn't hear you come in. George, right? Are your friends with you?”

“Just me,” George huffed. You picked up on the huff and wondered whether he was just having a bad day. From the small interaction you'd had yesterday, he seemed to get on well with his fellow agents and his annoyance was playfully exaggerated. Was it too soon to play along? You'd only met him yesterday. Then again, it was ordinary enough for shop workers to make conversation with the customers, and you wanted to at least try and make an effort at this new job.

“One of those days?” you prompted.

“Tell me about it.” The response was dry but not sarcastic, and you got the sense that he would have opened up more if he knew you better.

“Surely these will help,” you held up the biscuits as you passed them back to him, which earned you a slight smile. That was all you got, however, as he paid and walked away with only a muttered thanks. For some reason, you found yourself fishing for a way to make him stay and talk more. There weren't many people your age who came by while you were on shift (not many people at all, to be honest), as most of them worked the night shifts and barely went out and about until later in the afternoon. You just wanted someone, anyone, to talk to, and he was right there and getting further away by the second. Plus, you couldn't deny you were intrigued.

“Can I ask you something?” you blurted.

The boy turned, curiosity colouring his gaze. For a moment, you thought he'd still leave, but he came towards you and placed the detergent bottle back on the counter with a thud. You continued, “Which agency do you all work for? I noticed your rapiers yesterday, and Arif mentioned you being in the area, but I wasn't sure where."

George brightened. “We're Lockwood & Co, on Portland Row.”

—

A few more days passed, and the longer it went on the more George was unable to stop thinking about the new shop assistant. There was something about their question - most people didn't pay much notice to off-duty agents, much less care about which agency they were from. Sure, Arif had mentioned or warned them about Lockwood & Co, so perhaps it was just polite conversation, but they'd seemed genuinely invested in the answer. And with the shop opening in the early hours specifically for agents, it often took someone with Talent of their own to be brave enough to be out so early. Maybe…

His thoughts were interrupted by Lucy wandering into the study. She flopped into the armchair opposite, trying not to pay too much attention when George peered at her over the top of his book.

“Everything okay?” he asked. It wasn't often Lucy joined him for research.

“Lockwood's going to buy food so I thought I'd come and hang out with you. Don't mind me,” she shrugged. George took that rather literally, turning his attention back to the book on his lap. In the distance, they heard the front door open and close again, marking Lockwood's exit.

Lucy spoke again. “Oh, I almost forgot! He said we're out of cornflour but can he just use baking powder instead?”

George's eyes widened, and Lucy heard him mutter something particularly cutting as he dropped his book onto the arm of the chair and darted from the room. Moments later, the front door sounded again.

Lockwood turned in his stride and met George with a sharp grin, almost like he was expecting the other boy to come after him.

“I take it we do need cornflour, then?”

“You're such an idiot.” George fell into step beside him, and the two walked quietly for a while. George wondered whether it was worth going back to the house at all after this or whether to carry on to the Archives; it was early enough in the day that they might not be full yet. At least it would mean not being a part of whatever scheme his friend seemed to be cooking up.

—

You were greeted by Lockwood remarkably quickly after the bell alerted you to his presence, but he barely got a word in before you apologised, explaining that you hadn't meant to be rude when you first met, you just didn't know the agency to put his name to it.

“It was only when George explained-”

Almost as if you'd summoned him, the curly-haired boy stepped into view and gave you a small nod.

Lockwood's grinned, wider than before. “You didn't tell me you'd been chatting to y/n, mate.” He turned his attention back to you. “You must have quite the impact if you're getting more out of him than I am.”

A glowing warmth spread through your cheeks, and instinctively your eyes flew to George, whose expression reflected your own. The other boy glanced between you both with delight. “I suppose so,” you mumbled. “I was just curious because-”

“You have Talent.” It was George who had spoken, and he moved forward with his gaze levelled on yours. The words were spoken not as a question or a statement, more like a realisation. It struck you that behind the unassuming first impression the boy gave off was a quiet but brilliant intelligence for him to have figured you out so quickly. Very few people ever figured you out at all, especially not about your Talent.

“How did you know?”

George seemed to suddenly realise how close he'd come, practically leaning over the counter to study you; he pulled away and dragged his gaze to his shoes. “Educated guess.”

Lockwood, on the other hand, was having none of it, eyeing you up mischievously. “Don't be so modest,” he elbowed his friend in the ribs. You tried very hard not to fixate on the way the movement tightened his shirt across his chest and waist. “He's not our researcher for nothing, he's a genius.”

George sighed, but his head lifted with a burst of confidence. “I figured you must to feel safe working here before dawn, I just wasn't sure why you're not an agent. Oh, and the iron cross above the counter is new.”

There wasn't a single other person this week who'd noticed the cross you installed on your first day. This boy was really something.

“Wow,” you breathed subconsciously. George's cheeks reddened; this time he was definitely blushing. As for why you weren't an agent, what were you supposed to say? That you were less scared of the Visitors than you were of never finding your place within a team or worse, finding the right people but then losing them? How could you possibly explain that to him? So you didn't, and after a few more pleasantries Lockwood headed for the door. George threw you a backwards glance and a small wave, and the butterflies that had appeared in your stomach waved back.

Lockwood was positively beaming as they stepped out into the midday sun. Golden rays danced across his face, the air was mild, a soft breeze ruffled through his coat. It was all far too cheerful.

“What's got into you?” George frowned. “I haven't seen you this happy since we watched Kipps fall over his own rapier.”

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” Lockwood feigned outrage, clutching his chest. “And it's you that I'm happy for!”

George stopped. “What?”

“Come on, I've known you long enough to see there's something between you and y/n. Why don't you ask them out?”

“It's not like that! We've only spoken a couple of times, I don't know them well enough for anything like that.”

“If you say so…”

—

God, Lockwood was insufferable. He'd abandoned all subtlety, and it was driving George up the wall.

The smell of strong black coffee drifted up the stairs as George drifted down them. Lockwood had booked a big case for that night with absolutely no background information, so he'd spent the whole night on initial research. Hopefully caffeine would keep him awake long enough to get through the day.

Lucy was standing by the toaster, wielding a butter knife and humming to herself. George slumped into his usual chair with a groan.

“Coffee? Toast?” she offered.

“Please.”

“Sorry,” Lockwood appeared from the basement. “That's the last of the bread, you'll need to pick up more while you're out today.”

“You're joking,” George looked up. “There's still three slices in the bag there.” This was the third time this week he'd pulled something like this. The first was ‘accidentally’ stepping on an entire packet of biscuits. The second was announcing the milk was off, pouring it down the drain before anyone could check with enough force that it splashed back and went all over his trousers. And now this.

Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but Lockwood was faster. Before anyone could react, he pulled out the remaining slices, folded them all in half and took a massive bite. When he unfolded them, it left a gaping hole down the middle of all three slices, which he held up and peeked through triumphantly.

“You're ridiculous,” George scowled.

“ ‘m miwwian’” Lockwood mumbled around the wad of bread in his mouth.

George wanted to put his foot down. He didn't want to let Lockwood win. He knew he'd be so smug about it. But he also knew that every time he was sent to Arif's he stayed a little longer, talked a little more, watched you smile a little brighter. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he'd started looking forward to being sent out for things.

“Oh hey, Georgie!” Your face lit up when he entered the shop, and he smiled back. You weren't sure when you'd started calling him Georgie, he'd been here so often it was hard to tell which day was which any more. Not that you were complaining - he was easy to talk to, more interested in your Talent than anyone else had been, understanding when you'd finally explained your concerns about becoming an agent, and undeniably cute on top of all that. “What do you need today?”

“A boss who's not a meddling git,” he scowled dramatically, “...and milk.”

“I can only help with the second one,” you teased as you made your way out to the shop floor. Speaking to him from behind a counter felt so impersonal now, so you'd taken to wandering round the shop with him. You really hoped he didn't think you were overstepping or anything. As far as you knew, he thought of you as just the shop assistant, nothing more. You hoped it was more than that, could be more at least.

Another customer came and went, and George was still there, enraptured by your opinions on the Problem. He'd taken up a stance leaning against the shelves, one hand tucked into his pocket and looking the most relaxed you'd seen him since that first time he came into the shop. A light smile played across his face as he watched you hop onto the counter, not breaking your train of thought at all.

“I should get on before my shift finishes,” you sighed eventually. George immediately stepped forward and offered his hand to help you climb back down. His skin was warm and slightly calloused. You stumbled a little as you hit the ground and his other hand flew to your elbow, eyes scanning yours in concern.

“Thanks,” you murmured, painfully aware of how close you were. You'd put your hand out to steady yourself; it was clutching at the soft fabric of his orange plaid shirt. His eyes met yours once more and you both hastily pulled away.

“I'd better get back,” he cleared his throat.

“To the meddling git?”

He chuckled, a low sound which rumbled pleasantly in his chest. “Exactly. We're, um, we're out on another case tonight, but I'll see you soon, okay?”

“I hope so,” you replied, hoping he knew you didn't just mean because he made it back safely. “We'll have those doughnuts you like again tomorrow, if you're back in time.”

“I'll definitely be here for that,” he grinned.

—

It had been a hell of a night. The man who hired them had tried to bolster his ego by downplaying how intense the Visitors were. ‘A couple of Type 1s’ had turned out to be three particularly vicious Type 2s and it had taken until dawn to neutralise all the sources. The team emerged into the dewy morning covered in dust, rubble and, in George's case, blood. He'd taken a piece of debris to the face and, while it wasn't a serious injury, it had left him with a small cut which throbbed when he spoke. They were quite far from home too, and it was almost midday before they made it back to Portland Row.

George flopped onto a sofa in the living room as soon as they were through the door, while Lucy fetched the first aid kit. She sat down next to him, clicking open the case, and her face paled even more than it had with the exhaustion.

“We're out of antiseptic.”

“Lockwood,” George glared at his friend. He really wasn't in the mood.

“This isn't me this time! Look, you stay here and rest, I'll go and get more. Anything else we need?”

George pushed himself up to his feet. At least venting to you might make him feel better, and you had promised him doughnuts. “It's fine, I'll go.” Lockwood glanced at Lucy, taken aback by his insistence. He'd only been teasing George about going to see you, he never expected it to actually work.

“Please tell me you've still got those doughnuts, y/n,” George groaned as he pushed open the door to Arif's.

“Sorry,” came the reply from a voice distinctly unlike yours, as Arif glanced up from the shelf he was reorganising. “They took the last box at the end of their shift, maybe ten minutes ago.”

The last glimmer of hope that George had harboured fizzled out in his chest. Of course there was going to be no silver lining to the day. He was tired, he was hurt, and he didn't even get the doughnuts he'd been holding out for. Worse than that, though, he finally admitted to himself (and practically to his friends too) that he wanted to see you, that he liked you, and for what? Of course you weren't, you'd finished work and why on earth would you stick around just in case he showed up? It was unreasonable, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He'd have to wait until tomorrow, when he'd recovered a bit and could have a proper chat to you about everything. Ranting with Lockwood and Lucy was alright - they'd been there, they knew what he went through - but you were so gentle and understanding with him every time that he was desperate to hear your thoughts.

A figure on the steps of 35 Portland Row made George stop in his tracks. A new client, perhaps. Nothing unusual there.

The figure turned.

“Georgie?”

His face split into a grin the instant he recognised you. You'd changed out of your plain uniform into more casual clothes. The vibrant colours made you look almost radiant.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”

You shuffled awkwardly on the step, suddenly aware of just how much of a risk you were about to take.

“When you didn't show up this morning… well, I was worried about you on the case. And I know I said I was scared of becoming an agent in case I made friends with my team and then lost them, but I realised I could just as easily lose you like this and I'd never get to really know…” George watched you in awe, silently gravitating closer with every breath. Your own breath was trembling, the sound of it echoing from your chest up to your ears. Finally, he was close enough that you noticed the stark red line on his cheek. “Oh my god, you're hurt.” Just imagining him in pain sent ice through your veins.

“I'm okay,” he assured you gently. “Just a scratch. I've just been to Arif's for antiseptic and…” he looked almost as nervous to speak as you, “I missed seeing you.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand or hug him close, but instead you held up the box you'd forgotten you were holding. “Me too. I brought those doughnuts just in case, figured you might need the extra one.”

His expression softened. “It's not an extra if you're here. I mean, if you want? You could come in and we can share them with the rest of the team.” Team. He gave you a look that showed he meant the implication behind it. You were one of them now, if you wanted to be. With a smile, you wound the fingers of your free hand into his and allowed him to lead you into the house.

[froggoon]

Homelander x Vampire! Reader

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Summary: There's nothing that taste better than the blood of the strongest supe in the world. Warning: Fem! reader insert, smut, explicit sex Wc: 1,778

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆

Since you developed them at the age of 8, your powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.

"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.

"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.

Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧��⋆⋆｡‧˚NSFW BELOW ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧

Since you developed them at the age of 8, you're powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.

"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.

"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.

Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚NSFW BELOW ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧

"In that case. Continue." He stepped back slightly to undo the top of his suit and pulled it all the way down, letting his cock spring out for the bottom, slapping against his stomach. You were the worst double agent, but you were doing this for Annie, why not have some fun. You leaned against him, feeling him pressed on this stomach. You kissed his shoulder, opposite hand running down his chest. "So smell so good." His hand gripped your waist harder. You bit into his shoulder as he lifted you once more, legs going around his waist. His cock rubbed up against you, mouth moaning in your ear. You moved towards his neck again and bit the other side. Releasing your lips from his neck you pressed them against his, smothering the red liquid against him. He was such a passionate kisser, way better than any man you've ever dated. You broke the kiss only to shed your suit, blue eyes scanning every inch of your body. It was like you were the perfect specimen, not a flaw in sight, utterly beautiful. "I knew you'd be a great addition to the team." He said. You smirked in retaliation before sauntering to the bedroom. He followed, like a lost puppy and their owner. The bedroom was the same black and red color scheme, black silk sheets covered the bed, surrounded by dark wood furniture. There were red and white spider lily bouquets placed in vases throughout the room. There were way too many ornate vintage lamps. But the details didn't matter to you, not when Homelander was rubbing himself up and down your slit. He kissed your neck in a similar fashion as you, before slamming his hips against yours. There was no need to be soft, you two were the strongest in the world, and the sounds definitely proved it. The best rocked with each moment, the wood creaking from the pressure. He cried out loud as you bit his chest. His cock was pulsing as pushing in and out of you. He slammed into you again, the tension of the bed finally breaking and falling to the ground but that didn't stop him. Your pussy clenched around him. He grunted in your ear speeding up slightly before releasing his hot cum deep in you. He rolled off you and the two of you laid there panting filling the silence. You turned over to him with a smile, fang pushing out the bottom of your lips. "Again?"

[shelbystales]

Story Time - One Shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Word count: 1672

Summary: After a few days being absent in his familly, Tommy arrives late, once again. But to his surprise you and his son are still awake.

Warning: fluff, fluff and more fluff?

A/N: I could EASILY have turned this into a long SMUT, but hey... all my one shots are smut 😂. But if you guys want i can write a part 2.

Oh and please dont forget to comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot to me.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

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Thomas Shelby trudged wearily through the dimly lit streets of Birmingham, his mind still reeling from the day's events. It had been a long and exhausting day, negotiating business deals, and handling the never-ending challenges that came with running the Peaky Blinders. 

The Peaky Blinders' operations had been especially intense lately, and the weight of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders. All he wanted now was a moment of peace and a good glass of whisky.

As he finally reached his home, a beautiful Victorian house tucked away in a quiet corner of Small Heath, bought especially for you, he let out a sigh of relief.

The familiar sight of his residence offered a small respite from the chaos of the outside world. He pushed open the creaky front door, the familiar scent of his home enveloping him as he stepped inside.

The living room was dimly lit, the fire crackling in the hearth casting a warm glow over the room. Thomas made his way to the worn-out leather couch and sank into it with a grateful sigh. 

With a heavy sigh, he poured himself a glass of his favorite drink and took a sip, relishing the familiar burn that washed over him. The warmth of the alcohol began to soothe his frayed nerves, and he allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation.

As he closed his eyes, the sounds of his home enveloped him—the crackling of the fireplace, the ticking of the clock, and the distant creaking of the floorboards. But amidst the background noise, he heard something that brought a small smile to his face, a soft chuckle, unmistakably belonging to his son, Charles.

It was such a joyful and carefree sound that he hadn't heard in a while. He furrowed his brows, wondering why Charlie would be awake at this hour. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Thomas set down his glass and followed the sound. He made his way through the hallway and stopped outside his son's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the flickering light from the hallway revealed a heartwarming scene.

There, on the bed tucked under the covers, was his son Charlie, just three years old, and you, his mother, playing with him. Charlie was giggling uncontrollably as you tickled him, a smile on your face that lit up the room. 

Thomas felt a softness in his heart, a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to feel amidst the harsh realities of his world.

"Well, look who it is," you said with a playful grin, noticing Thomas at the door. "Come join the fun, Tommy."

Thomas hesitated for a moment, his mind still clouded with the weight of his responsibilities. 

But something about the sight of you and his son together drew him in. He stepped into the room, his eyes locked on the scene before him.

He approached you with his usual confidence, but as he got closer, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. 

You looked up, your eyes meeting his in a moment of unspoken understanding. It was as if you could see the pain and darkness that lay hidden behind his steely exterior.

"Seems like I've walked into a tickle battle. Why are you still awake little one?" he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Aye, you have" you replied, giving him a knowing smile. "Charlie was missing his dad, weren't ya, love?"

The little boy nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with adoration as he looked up at his father.

Thomas moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the weariness in his bones momentarily forgotten. He reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair, earning another delighted giggle from the boy.

"I'm sorry, I've been busy all these days" Thomas said, his voice softened by genuine regret. "No need to apologize, Tommy," you said, laying a hand on his. "We know how much you have on your plate."

He sighed, his eyes never leaving the two of you. "It's not an excuse, though. Family should always come first."

"You're right," you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you're here now. You can help me put this one to sleep"

“I don’t want to sleep. I want to play with da!” Charlie cried, the crying giving away the little one's tiredness

“How about we play tomorrow, hm?” Tommy asked

“You won’t be here tomorrow,” Charlie spoke in a weeping voice.

You just sat there, with Charlie in your arms. Just watching.

Charlie just missed his dad, but Tommy was needed out there. You could see the pain in Tommy’s eyes, to be an absent parent was not in his plans. 

“How about I tell you a story?” Tommy asked “and tomorrow I can take you and your mom out, maybe we can go to that park you like, ey?” 

Charlie got agitated in your arms, happy with his dad's promise. But you feared he wouldn’t keep it, again. Making you go silent. 

Charlie got out from under the covers and crawled into his father's arms, who received him with a strong hug.

Thomas found himself immersed in the simple joy of being you both, a rare respite from the constant struggles of his life.

“Okay, now lie down" Tommy ordered, pulling the blanket back for Charlie to get inside.

"Lie down here too daddy" charlie called him

Impossible to resist his son’s request, Tommy kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers, Charlie between the two of you.

"What book are you going to read?" charlie asked

"No books. the story is here" Tommy pointed to his head making Charlie smile “Once upon a time, in the green hills of Birmingham, there lived a magnificent horse named Midnight."

"Like cocoa?" Charlie asked, refering to the brown horse Tommy had bought. Cocoa wasn't his race name, but the one Charlie chose for him.

"No, this was no ordinary horse, my boy. Midnight had a coat as black as the night sky, if you looked close by, you could even se the stars. He was magical and he could run faster than the wind…” Tommy went on telling the story. 

As Thomas spun his tale, the room seemed to come alive with his words. He painted vivid pictures of the horse's daring escapades and heroic deeds, capturing his son's imagination with each passing moment.

You watched the scene unfold, your heart swelling with love for the two most important people in your life.

You marveled at how effortlessly Thomas could transport your son to another world with his storytelling, and you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of admiration for her husband.

As the story reached its end Charlies's eyelids began to droop, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. 

Thomas leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead and you gently tucked the covers snugly around him.

Once Charlie was fast asleep, you and Thomas went back to the living room. The fire had died down, so you gave it life again, with a few woods and a single match. 

Thomas poured another glass of whisky, and you sat beside him on the couch, streching your legs across his lap.

"I never thought I could have this," Thomas admitted quietly, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "A family, a home... it was never part of the plan."

"But here we are," you said, taking his hand in yours. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?"

"Aye, it does," he murmured, his fingers entwining with yours. "And I wouldn't trade this for anything." he pulled your face gently for a kiss

"Where this is coming from? all this declaration of love for us?" you chuckled lightly "had a hard day?" you asked and he nodded

“Yes" He sighed "you were silent back there” tommy pointed out

“Well, good you noticed. I don't want you promising Charles things you can’t do,” you admitted. “We both know how it’s with you. You can’t stay away from work”

“I have a lot of work to get done, y/n” he said almost in a whisper

“I know. Just, please don’t lie to him. You’re his hero” you asked

“I never plan to” he sighed

“So you're taking him to the park tomorrow?” you asked and he nodded “good. you better, I can’t stand to look at the disappointment at his face again”

“What do you mean again?” he asked frowning

“Oh, come on Tommy. ‘i’ll be home dinner’, ‘i’ll pick you up at school’, ‘i”ll do this or i’ll do that’. you may not remember tiny promises, but he does. Everynight he asks if you are coming home before he sleeps” 

“every night?” he asked, sounding defeated

“Yeah, and even though i know the truth i say ‘i don’t know, maybe’” 

he went silent

You could see the guilt wash over Tommy's face, and you knew he was grappling with his own emotions. You didn't want to add to his burden, but you also couldn't bear to see Charles disappointed again.

"Tommy, I understand that you have a lot on your plate, i promise i do," you said gently, "but you need to make time for Charles. He's growing up so fast, and he needs his father in his life."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I can't promise to be there all the time. It's not easy, y/n. You know what I do, what I'm involved in."

"I do know, Tommy," you replied softly. "And I know that your work is important, but so is your family. Charles needs you, and so do I. I also miss you. You come home after i am already sleeping and you leave before the sun comes out. I am getting abit tired of this loneliness"

Thomas took a deep breath, his gaze locked with yours. He could see the concern and love in your eyes, and it weighed heavily on his heart. He reached out to cup your cheek tenderly, his thumb caressing your skin.

"I'm sorry, love," he said sincerely "I can't promise you miracles, but i'll try to be home earlier".

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

He gently kissed you. His lips slowly savoring yours. Tongue gently invading your mouth and sliding on your lips. 

“I love you y/n” He said resting his forehead on yours

“I love you too tommy” you smiled 

“Let me take care of you now, eh?” he smirked pushing you down to lay on the couch. 

“Yes please!” you said smiling in anticipation, making him chuckle as he lifted your nighgown.

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[cherrycola27]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 20: Right Where You Left Me

welcome home

Your brother's words rang in your ears, catching you off guard.

Home

Olympus

You were restored

But you weren't home. Olympus hadn't been your home in a long time—if ever.

Home was Earth. Home was a house in Coronado with your husband.

Home was Bradley.

You stood there, staring at Poseidon for a long while before taking a deep breath. "Si, this isn't my home." You tell him softly. "What do you mean? You're a Goddess. Olympus is your home." He questions you.

"This place may have been my home once, but not anymore. Not after everything—" You trail off, but your brother nods, knowing what you mean. He was the only one who took your side when everything happened with Persephone.

"My home is Earth now, with my husband." You tell him. "Husband?" Poseidon asks you.

"Yes, a mortal, his name is Bradley. He's the reason I'm here. There was an accident. I sacrificed myself to save him." You say, not wanting to tell much more.

"Does he make you happy, sister?" Poseidon speaks softly. "Happier than I have ever been." You smile. "Wonderful. I am happy for you." He smiles at you.

There is a beat of silence. "Well then, I would love for you to stay around, but I'm sure you want to go back to him. Promise to visit some, or I can come see you." Poseidon smiles.

"That would be wonderful, Si." You smile at him before hugging him. He hugs you back tightly before allowing you to take a step back.

You roll your shoulders back and touch your wedding rings. "Take me to Bradley." You whisper, waiting to be whisked back to him. Instead, electricity floods your body, jolting you with pain. You cry out and collapse. Poseidon runs to your side. "Sister? Sister, are you alright?" His voice heavy with concern as he helps you to your feet.

"Something is wrong. I can't, I can't travel. I can't feel Bradley." You stammer out.

"Your husband, are you tethered?" Poseidon asks you. "Yes, I checked, see?" You say waving your hand over your wedding rings, but instead of finding the golden string that once lived there, you find it dull and lifeless. It's been cut.

"Zeus." Your brother breathes out before you can. "He had Hera and Aphroditie cut your tether. He must have forced them because they would never do it willingly." He says. "I've always known our brother was wicked, but this—this is just cruel." Poseidon breathes out.

Your lip quivers as you look at the limp string tied around your finger as tears silently fall. But soon, the sadness morphs to something else.

Rage burns inside of you. Anger fills your senses as the centuries of animosity that you've choked back explode from you in a burst of white-hot flames as you scream.

Poseidon jumps back as the flames of hatred wrap around you, turning your white dress black with smoke and ash.

"Where is he?" You growl lowly. "Court, Zeus, is hold court today in the palace." Your brother stutters out, simultaneously terrified and in awestruck by you.

You nodded before vanishing in a flash. Moments later, you were in the middle of a white marble hall. Columns stood tall on either side of you. Flaming torches of gold lined the walls, lighting the way. Ornate carvings dripping in gold, silver, and precious stones adorned the high ceilings.

Beautiful busts, paintings, tapestries, and statues decorated the hallway. You didn't take time to stop and marvel at them as you marched by, though.

You were on a mission. Each step you took had a purpose. You quickly found your way to the Great Hall. The solid gold doors were manned by two sentries who drew back the moment they saw you.

"Open." You commanded. They nodded before each grasping a handle and pulling the doors wide. You could hear your idiotic brother speaking as the doors opened, but the moment you appeared in the doorway, silence fell over the hall.

"Zeus!" You yelled out as you charged at him, feet pounding on the cool stone.

"You! You bastard!" You shrieked as you launched yourself at him. You saw terror briefly flash across his face before two strong pairs of arms subdued you. You struggled as you turned to see Ares and Apollo holding you firmly.

"Hades! Sister! Welcome home! I am so thankful you have been restored!" Zeus taunted you.

"Do not vex me with your passive-aggressive words, Brother. You and I both know you don't want me here." You seethe.

"Sister, why do you say that? I mean, after you were restored, I had Hermes lift the charm that prevented you from traveling to Olympus." Zeus smirked as you still struggled.

"Yes, and then you made sure to have him create a new one so I couldn't go back to Earth, and you forced Hera and Aphroditie to cut my tether to my husband, you bastard." You gritted out.

"Hades, darling baby sister, you must understand why I did it. You've spent so much time on Earth. I thought it would be best if you spent some time here, at home. And as for your tether, you and I both know you can't be with a mortal. It compromises your loyalty to your family." Zeus says as he pats your cheek.

You cry out as you heat your body so hot that Ares and Apollo release you as they wince in pain from you burning them.

Zeus stumbles backward and calls for someone else to restrain you, but you produce the Soul Sword and everyone backs away.

You turn and see that Zeus has he bolt in his hand, ready to throw it at you. You stalk towards him.

"Loyalty? That's what this is about? Loyalty and family? Zeus, you wouldn't know the meaning of those words if someone slapped you in the face with them." You say.

"Where was family when Persephone falsely accused me? Where was loyalty when you imprisoned me in the Underworld? You act like you are doing me a favor by letting me come to Olympus when you are the reason I was banished in the first place! You flaunt there on your high horse acting like you have changed by giving me 'freedom,' but I am still trapped! I am still right where you left me all those years ago, trapped in my own personal hell that you created by taking away the one thing that I love!" You scream at Zeus. Through angry tears.

"Hades, please, calm down. I'm just trying to be a good brother and look out for for well being." Zeus says.

"You are not my brother. You're just some bastard keeping me from my husband. And mark my words, you will rue this day, because I will have my revenge. It will not be today, and it may not be tomorrow. But one day soon, I am going to burn you and Olympus to the ground and then dance upon its ashes." You threaten him before disappearing in a could of smoke.

Zeus lets out the breath he has been holding and lowered his bolt. The eyes of the other Gods and Goddess are all on him, none of them daring to speak until Hera breaks the silence.

"You stupid, stupid man. I told you that forcing Aphroditie and I to cut her tether would end badly, and Hermes warned you that taking her traveling away would have repercussions; but you didn't listen. Now all of us are going to have to suffer. I hope you're satisfied with yourself." Hera says before turning on her heels and walking away, the others following her.

................

The sound of pots and pans rattling in the kitchen downstairs alerted Bradley that it was time to get out of bed. He'd been up for hours, lying awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying your last moments over and over in his mind again. It had been two weeks since the accident.

Two weeks since he had seen your smile, felt your touch, kissed your lips. Two weeks since he cut those ropes and watched you fall into the waves below without a trace.

Maverick had been staying with him in one of the guest rooms, trying to keep Bradley from drinking himself to death while wallowing in his grief.

Today was a day Bradley had been dreading. This morning, he and Maverick were going to meet with Cyclone to officially declare what Bradley already knew, that you'd been killed in action.

Begrudgingly, he swung his legs over his side of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He needed to shave. The stubbly beard he now had was well out of regs, but helped hide the way his face had thinned out some as a result of him being too sick with grief to eat.

After a shower and a shave, Bradley pulled on his uniform. The khaki material that had once hugged his frame nicely now hung loose and limp due to his diet and lack of exercise.

After trudging down the stairs, Bradley was immediately greeted by Cerberus and Hydra. He pet both of them before walking to the coffee maker and poured a cup of the scalding liquid before taking a long sip.

"I made breakfast." Maverick said, breaking the silence. "M'not hungry." Bradley mumbled over his coffee mug. "You need to eat something. You can't sustain yourself on black coffee and whiskey. Remember what Hades made you promise her." Maverick said.

Bradley turned to face his uncle and snatched the plate of eggs and toast from his hand before sitting down at the breakfast nook. Sometimes Bradley hated that Maverick knew everything about you now. He didn't mean to tell him, but the first night back stateside, Bradley had come home and drank almost a full bottle of whiskey. Maverick had come over to check on him, and Bradley let everything spill out.

Every detail about your relationship and your true identity and how you sacrificed yourself for him and the promise you had Bradley make you. Maverick was taken aback at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

After breakfast, Maverick insisted on driving to base. He and Bradley climb into the beat-up red jeep Mav had purchased on a whim a few years ago and made the twenty or so minute drive to base. It was silent the whole way there.

Bradley was stoic as he sat in the chair across from Cyclone and some other officers as they gave him the official declination of your death along with their deepest condolences.

After the meeting, he was flooded with questions about the arrangements he wanted to make for your funeral.

People were asking him what kind of service he wanted, when, and where. There were questions about flowers and speakers, but the one that broke him was when someone asked him what type of casket he wanted to pick out for you.

"Excuse me?" He spit out. "Did you just ask me about a casket?" Heat flooded his cheeks. The man sitting across from him stammered a reply.

"Why the fuck would I need a casket? My wife was killed in action, and they never recovered her body. Why would I need a fucking casket if I'm never going to get to lay her to rest and give her a proper goodbye? What kind of fucking question is that?" Bradley growled as tears streamed down his face.

"I don't give two fucks about any of this. The casket, the flowers, a head stone! None of it matters!" He roared before slamming his palms down on the table.

Maverick quickly helped him out of the room before Bradley collapsed against a wall and sobbed.

"Mav, what am I supposed to do? Bury an empty box? Am I supposed to get a headstone with her name on it and put it beside mom and dad with an empty casket under it?" Bradley cried.

"If that's what you want to do." Maverick said softly. "Do you want to put a headstone in Virginia?"

"We talked about it once. When we went other there. She asked me where I wanted to be buried, and I told her with my parents. But if I do that, I can't stay here in California Mav. I'd have to go back to Oceana." Bradley explained.

"If that's what you feel like you need to do, we can start the paperwork. I'll help you get everything taken care of with it. What about your house, though? Maverick asked home.

"I'll sell it. It doesn't feel like home without her it feels more like a prison because it's so empty. We were supposed to raise our kids there and grow old together. But instead, I'm right where I was before I met her, alone." Bradley sighs.

Maverick pats his shoulder and helps him to his feet. "I can't help you put together a nice tribute for Hades. One that she'd be proud of." Maverick gives him a half smile before walking Bradley down to his office.

A week later, Bradley is standing in a hotel room, preparing his dress blues for your funeral. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and flexes his bicep. The Roman numerals that are inked there now have a pair of angel wings beside them. He'd first noticed them a few days after he lost you. He knows that you had to have put them there as a way to make good on your promise to always be with him. He smiled as he traced them.

Bradley doesn't remember what people said about you at your service. It all passed in a blur. He'd written a speech but doesn't remember giving it. He was, and still is on auto pilot.

The realization of everything doesn't hit him until he is walking up to the empty golden oak casket that Maverick helped him pick out and pounding his his wings into it that this is happening.

As the gun salute rings out and jets fly overhead, he feels his heart shattering like a red wine glass over a white table cloth.

After the service, people disburse, but Bradley takes a seat on the freshly broken Earth and stares at the granite stone that reads your name. He stays there for hours, unmoving even as the sun begins to fade, and the first few leaves off autumn drop from the trees and collect on him like dust.

It's only when Maverick and the rest of the Daggers come back at sundown that they are able to coax him away from your grave.

Bradley gets dressed and leaves his hotel room early the next morning, getting to the cemetery just as the sun is coming up. He just wants to be alone. He hopes that maybe in the peace and quiet, he'll be able to feel your presence.

.............

Despite being away from the Underworld so long, you were able to fall back into your routine as queen quickly. It helped keep your mind busy and thoughts occupied. If you were left to your own devices for too long, your mind wandered back to Bradley, and you'd cry so hard that you'd make yourself sick. Honestly, you felt sick most of the time since you'd been back. You chalked up to a broken heart.

Minthe and Hecate encourage you to go visit Bradley's parents in their piece of Paradise, but you were afraid. What if they didn't know who you were or didn't like you?

Right now, it didn't matter. You had to put those thoughts on the back burner because you had a meeting with the Council of Fates. You'd donned a simple but regal black dress and were sitting at the head of a long mahogany table. When Théama, the leader of the Council, walked in with the rest of the Fates in tow.

"Greetings, Majesty." Théama curtsied to you before shaking your hand. "I believe you know the rest of the Council members, but I would like to introduce you to my younger sister, Mantisa. She has just come into her gift of sight.

A younger girl who looked just like Théama curtsied to you before extending her hand to shake yours. The moment her hand touched yours, her head snapped back, and her body froze. Everyone stood still until Mantisa came around.

"Sister, what did you see?" Théama asked her.

"Pardon my ignorance Majesty, all of ours really. We were not aware congratulations were in order." Mantisa spoke.

"What do you mean?" You asked the young Fate with a puzzled look.

"Oh, forgive me. Are you unaware, my lady?" Mantisa asks you. "Unaware of what?" You say, a tad harsh.

"That you are with child." Mantisa says with a smile. You feel your eye twitch before you reach forward and grab her roughly by the arm.

"What did you say?" You grit out. You nails dig into her flesh. "You are with child, my lady. I saw it in my vision." Mantisa trembles out.

"How dare you say that. I have not laid with my husband in weeks. I died before being restored, plugged into the ocean from a tall cliff, and drowned. No babe, could have survived that. The words you have spoken are treason, and I could have your tongue, or better yet, your head for it." Your voice is laced with venom.

"Majesty, please. Mantisa has just received her gift. She does not know how to interpret her visions yet. She is just a girl. Please. Mantisa, take it back!" Théama begs.

"No, I'm not wrong. I saw it. I saw you with a babe. Please, Majesty. Take my hand. Please let me show you." Mantisa pleads. You battle with yourself before deciding to humor her.

"Fine. Prove yourself." You say as you let her go.

Mantisa takes your hand and places it on your stomach and puts her over your own. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and feel." Mantisa encourages you.

So you do.

You close your eyes and relax. You think of Bradley and the happy times you spent together. The warmth and the love that he made you feel. And suddenly, you feel it. It's no more than a flutter, but it's there. The beat of a heart that isn't your own.

You gasp as a golden light surrounds you before wrapping around your hand and lighting up your tether, restoring it.

"My gods." You whisper as tears streak your face. "But how?"

"Demigod children are resilient, that have had to be." Minthe tells you as she hugs you.

"You daughter is perfect. She will grow to be a strong and healthy princess and a wise queen." Mantisa tells you.

"Daughter?" You say. "Yes. A daughter. Strong like her mother and father." She smiles at you.

"Thank you." You tell her. "Thank you for this gift. Forgive me for my behavior. I—" you trail off. "You are forgiven. I could not imagine what you have been through." Mantisa says as she hugs you. You and the Fates decide to meet again at a later date. You have something more important to do.

...............

You rocked nervously on your heels as you stood on the porch of the small farmhouse that looked exactly like the one from the photos Bradley had shown you.

After visiting with the royal healers, you found that you were around ten weeks pregnant. Once you realized it, it explained much of your sickness and feelings. You only wish you had a way to tell Bradley. But now that you tether was restored, maybe you could find one.

For now, though, you wanted to tell his parents. So, you changed into a simple black sundress and picked a bouquet of poppies and sunflowers.

You took a deep breath before knocking on their door. You could hear footsteps as you stood there waiting, going over the speech you prepared in your head again.

But the moment the door opened, and you saw Carole Bradshaw standing there, just as beautiful as she was in all the pictures you'd seen of her, you froze.

"Well, hello there." She said to you warmly.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Carole stood there, waiting patiently with a bright smile on her face.

"I—" you choked out. "I'm sorry—I should go." You say quickly, taking a step back. But before you can leave, Carole places a gentle hand on your arm.

"Nonsense. Please, come in. Goose and I have been so eager to meet you, Sweet Girl." Carole smiles as she guides you through the door.

"You—you know who I am?" You ask her. "Of course I do. Goose and I check on Bradley every day. And did you think I wouldn't recognize my own ring?" She asks you. "Oh." You say shyly.

Carole leads you into the living room that is filled with pictures that you know well. She offers you a seat and you offer her the flowers.

She takes them and calls into the kitchen. "Goose!"

"That's me, Honey!" A male voice calls back. "Get me a vase with some water and start some coffee. Our daughter-in-law is here for a visit!" Carole calls back to him as she walks in the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Carole comes back with coffee, and Goose follows behind her with a tray of sweets. You're stunned at just how much Bradley favors his father. It's uncanny.

"Bradley looks so much like you." You blurt out before you can even think. Goose laughs. "What a shame. I was hoping he would get his mama's beauty." Goose laughs. "Goose, you and I both know how handsome he is." Carole playfully pushes him.

You stand up to shake their hands. "Now, Hades," Goose begins, "we are family, and families hug, Sweet Girl." He says to you before wrapping his arms around you. Carole joins him, and for a minute, everything feels normal.

It feels like home.

You spend all evening with Goose and Carole. They tell you stories about Bradley's childhood, and you tell them about how he is now. Carole makes dinner, and you eat with them, and it makes you feel so warm inside. You only wish Bradley were here. If you could travel to Earth, you could bring him here. Yet another thing Zeus had taken from you.

It's late in the evening when you tell them you have to leave. They offer you their extra room to sleep over, but you decline.

"Before I leave, there is one thing I wanted to tell you. It's the reason I came in the first place, actually." You say.

"What is it, Sweet Girl?" Carole asks you.

"You're going to be grandparents." You tell them. Cries of joy leave their mouths as they hug you tighly.

"Does—does Bradley know?" Goose asks you. You hang your head. "No, I found out today, and with everything I've told you, you know I can't go to Earth and tell him or bring him here. But I'm not going to give up. Bradley is going to meet his daughter." You say.

"Daughter?" Carole smiles. "Yes, daughter." You confirm. "How wonderful. Hades, you are smart. I know you'll figure something out. And we are here if you need us for anything." Carole reassures you. You hug her and Goose once more before traveling back to your palace.

It's late once you get back. You fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits your pillows. You find sleep easy for the first time since you'd returned. You were content to drift off and dream about you and Bradley and your daughter. But hours later, Minthe and Hecate burst into your room.

"My lady! My lady!" They shout, rousing you from your slumber. "What? What is it?" You ask, still groggy.

"My lady, the guards have reported a disturbance at the palace gate. You must come quickly." Minthe tells you.

You jolt up out of bed and wrap yourself in a long, flowing black robe. You run down the hall and down the stairs and through the castle until you burst out the doors. You make your way through the courtyard and through the crowd that has gathered at the palace gate.

You don't believe your eyes when you see what—well who is there. You blink a few times and a pinch yourself to make sure you are awake. Sure enough, you are. Your heart rate quickens, and your palms sweat. You place a protective hand on your stomach before opening your mouth and speaking.

"Bradley?"

...........................................

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat @sunlightmurdock @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @briseisgone @angelbabyange @marvelouslyme96 @desert-fern @mshistorylover

[dovedewdrop]

The One That Got Away

In another life

I would be your girl / 1.7k

A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first fic! I've been super anxious to put this out but also itching to write something so here we are🤗 I hope you enjoy🩷

Also thank you to one of my besties @gracieispunk for being so supportive always🥹 she truly has a heart of gold and deserves the world💛 Happy 5 months of friendship🫶🏻👹

Warnings: Post-Outbreak. Mean!Joel. Just pure angst tbh. sad vibes.

---

The last time he had kissed you was the morning of the outbreak, long and passionate, his arm slung around your lower back, your hand on his chest. He’d done it to shut you up really, both you and Sarah on his case about how he was working late, on his birthday of all days, but you both knew why he had to, it was the same reason you picked up extra shifts at work too, you had a wedding to plan and weddings weren’t cheap no matter how low-key they were.

Now you sat at your kitchen table in Jackson in the house you shared with Tommy and Maria, your fingertips ghosting across your bottom lip as you reminisced on that morning. Soon those sweet memories that seemed to be coated in an orange hue were contrasted with shades of blue, Joel had changed, he became a man you didn’t recognise, a man who was cold towards you.

You knew deep down that he didn’t blame you for what had happened, but he had to be mad at someone. At first he just withdrew into himself, but it didn’t take long for him to become outwardly mean, you felt pathetic as you followed behind him up dirt paths and across fields and embarrassed when one day he’d stopped in his tracks, drew in a long breath, and muttered, “wish you’d just leave already,” stalking off up the hill and leaving Tommy to comfort you.

So that’s what you did, you and Tommy, you left with no idea where you’d end up and it killed you to turn around at the edge of the woods and see Joel sitting there on his own, snapping sticks in his hand as if it was your heart he was holding.

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and downed the rest of your coffee before placing the mug in the sink, grabbing a checked fleece from the hook on your way out the door. The air outside was biting, bringing a rosiness to your cheeks which you didn’t really mind, you’d be out of the cold and in the Bison soon enough. You took note of the patrol coming back in through the gates and smiled at some of the other families as you weaved your way through the crowds of people who had stopped in the streets.

“Tommy!” You stopped dead in your tracks. Tommy was a popular man around here; someone was always looking for him but there was no mistaking whose voice that was. When you turned ever so slightly they were embracing in a hug, it made your heart burst to see them together like that, how they used to be, how Joel used to be. He seemed a lot brighter, full if a bit more life. You scanned the horses and noticed a young girl amongst the patrollers, someone you hadn’t seen before, you wondered if she was his, if he’d met someone new after you, fallen in love again and decided to have another kid, you wondered if he was healed, if she’d healed him. 

When you turned your attention back to them he was already looking at you and for the first time in your life you couldn’t read him, his emotions had always been so strong, when he loved it was with his whole heart and as you came to find out, when he hated, that was with his whole heart too.

You tore your gaze away from his and headed towards the pub, clutching at your chest, you were grateful that you didn’t have to open for another hour as you slumped against the wooden cupboard behind the bar, trying your best to regulate your breathing, eyes closed and head pounding. As you’d finally calmed down and peeled your eyes open you noticed a head full of curls peaking over the bar, Tommy.

“You know he was coming?” You asked, with a slight shake evident in your voice.

“Nah, guys picked him and the girl up whilst out on patrol.” He began rounding the bar to sit on the floor with you.

“Is that his daughter?”

“Don’t think so, haven’t had chance to speak to him properly yet, ‘ad to come check on you.” He nudged your shoulder with his and gave you a sincere smile, one which you returned, he’d always looked out for you and now that Joel was back that wasn’t going to change. “Take the rest of the afternoon off, I’ve got it covered here.” 

“Thanks Tommy,” you pull him into a hug before standing up and heading home. 

You take a hot shower and try to drown out the recurring memories of how Joel fell out of love with you, of how when he looked at you his eyes no longer held warmth, how when you’d touch him he’d flinch and looked away. When you sat at your dresser your eyes fixed on your engagement ring that sat in a wooden box that the carpenter in Jackson had been kind enough to make, it wasn’t incredibly fancy, you weren’t into big sparkly rocks, but the green amethyst stone was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and it made your heart burst to know that he picked it. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sat at the dresser but when you snap out of your trance you realise you don’t quite know what to do with the rest of your afternoon, perhaps you should’ve carried on with your shift, but you know there’s no arguing with Tommy. Eventually you decide on grabbing a book from the bookshelf and sitting outside on the porch with a cup of coffee. That’s when you see him again, or rather hear him. The door to the Bison swings and he storms out, jacket in hand, boots trudging through the sludgy remnants of snow until he stops in the middle of the street, he looks down and you watch, over the top of your book, as his body lets out a breath he seems to have been holding in for a long time. 

You try to hold your tongue but you’re not about to let him walk around in this town and ignore you. “Get into a fight with Tommy?” you question, placing your book down in your lap and pulling the blanket further up your legs. His head shoots up to look at you, his expression looks pained, like he knew this was coming but would prefer it to not be happening right now. 

“Somethin’ like that,” he grumbles as he slowly walks over to the house, treading lightly both figuratively and literally. 

“Ah, still the same Joel Miller, so elusive and cautious, so stony-faced,” he doesn’t answer you, just looks away to where the girl is talking to some other kids, “of course, he wasn’t always like that,” you mumble, more to yourself than him but he still catches it.

“Don’t” He snaps back.

“Don’t?” You scoff, “that’s rich, what? Can’t handle a bit of shit back?” Again, he doesn’t answer. “That your kid?” You ask, you make sure that you breathe when you ask but really, you’re suffocating inside, you want to fawn over him, you want to hug him and cradle his head in your hand, and you want him to rub soothing circles on your hips like he used to but you’re dealing with an entirely different man now.

“No.” There’s a pause, you notice his eyes flit down to your hands, presumably searching out your ring. “Just tryna get her somewhere.” You nod at his response before silence falls over you both, your eyes drifting over to the kid.

“What’s her name?”

“Ellie.” You nod your head once again. 

You can feel everything bubbling up inside you, emotions and words and if you’re not careful they’ll come bubbling out of you in a way that you can’t control. Every second spent in his presence goads you. “You… got a boyfriend?” he asks cautiously and you roll your eyes.

“Jheez Joel, no, how are ya?” He looks down at his fingers that are resting on the wooden railing, like a little boy that’s just been told off. You don’t even know how to respond, your brain trying to categorise your thoughts and feelings like your mind is a jumble sale. 

“What ya thinking about?” His voice is soft, his eyes feel as though they’re looking into your soul, like they used to do, he was looking at you like he did when you did something he adored, something that reminded him why he loved you so damn much.

When you let out a sigh instead of an answer, he tapped both hands on the railing and pushed himself off, a slight smile that quickly turned into a frown. “See ya around.”

He stopped walking as you began speaking and you were glad his back was to you because here comes the word vomit, 

“ Thinkin about how one day, probably sometime within the next five years, my kids are gonna come runnin up on this porch and my husband is gonna come home from his patrol shift, presumably with you, and he’s gonna tell me about his day and he’ll give that little of a shit that he won’t even notice that I’m not lookin directly at him, I’m lookin past him at you. About how, when I go to tuck my kids in at night I’ll get this stabbing in my chest and this gnawing feeling in my brain telling me that I’m a bad mother because sure, I’ll love them to absolute pieces but part of me can’t help but think I’d love them more if they were your kids. About how I’ll get into bed at night, with my husband who doesn’t so much as utter a “goodnight” to me, instead just rolls over and goes straight to sleep and I’ll cry and mull over what could have been and what I wanted more than anything in the world- until the exhaustion washes over me. Then I’ll wake up the next day and do it all over again. That’s what I’m thinking about Joel.”

He turns to face you at your admission and you can see the tears in his eyes, watching as he forces them out with a blink before wiping a stray one with the back of his flannel. “See ya around,” he repeats.

[anxiousgaypanicking]

I noticed that you're accepting requests for good omens 👀 aziraphale coming back from heaven after leaving Crowley and things escalating up to apology sex/giving Crowley the opportunity to let out his pent-up frustrations? Whoever's the top or bottom is up to you

Apology

Warnings: pretty standard sex

Aziraphale stands idly on the steps outside what was formerly his bookshop. Despite having entered and exited these doors plenty of times, he now feels unsure of whether or not he was welcomed inside.

He had seen Muriel pass by the doors, holding an unsteady stack of books in her arms. Seeing her reminded him of his first days on Earth, and even of the first books he got to hold in his hands. He hoped she hadn't given any away, but he wouldn't blame her if she didn't understand their value. Those books were important to him, and he'd abandoned them anyway.

It wasn't the only important thing he'd left behind.

Just barely visible through the window of the door is Crowley. He's laying back on one of the comfortable couches Aziraphale's ex-bookshop houses. Normally, when he'd stretch out on the piece of furniture it was when he and Aziraphale were engrossed in witty conversation. Now he looked as though he was miserable, if not rotting away on the cushions.

Aziraphale didn't blame him in the slightest.

Fear of rejection is the only thing that keeps him hesitant outside the doors. He doesn't deserve Crowley's forgiveness, but he's prepared to beg for it anyway.

Swallowing the spit in his mouth, Aziraphale heads inside.

As he pushes the door open, the bell above it jingles, and though Crowley doesn't stir, Muriel's feet can be heard excitedly pattering towards the doorway.

"Hi!" she exclaims, before she's even before the door, "welcome to A. Z. Fell & Co..." Muriel trails off before she can even finish her sentence. She gasps when she fully processes who is standing before her.

"Aziraphale!" she exclaims, though Aziraphale has a hard time interpreting whether it's out of surprise or excitement.

The proclamation of his name has Crowley whipping around in his seat though, staring at Aziraphale with his eyes obscured by his familiar black glasses. Aziraphale swears it was just yesterday when Crowley felt comfortable enough to slide his glasses off every time he walked into the bookshop. Now here he was wearing them just to lay around.

"Hi, Muriel," Aziraphale says, though his voice is unsteady, as though he's trying to keep a shuddering sob suppressed. "Hi, Crowley."

"I've kept everything tidy for you!" Muriel states, smiling, though her eyes reflect a certain disbelief. "And Mr. Crowley told me you didn't want any books actually sold."

"How sweet of him." Aziraphale smiles at Crowley. Crowley scowls in response, turning away from him in such a way that drew attention to the cold air wafting between them. There's thick tension that settles along with the silence, which has Muriel bouncing on the heels of her feet awkwardly.

"Why don't you go... tidy something up in the back," Aziraphale then urges Muriel, as soft as he can. She seems relieved at having something to do, and nods at the request, before walking off and leaving Crowley and Aziraphale alone.

For a few seconds, Aziraphale waits, wondering if Crowley will say something. He doesn't. And so, Aziraphale clears his throat and breaks the silence, stating "I came back."

Crowley doesn't stir.

Taking a few small steps toward the sofa Crowley was spread out on, Aziraphale adds "I suppose this warrants a lot more than the apology dance?"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

Aziraphale's chest aches at the words, but still he presses onwards. "Crowley..."

"I don't even want to see you."

That has Aziraphale's eyes feeling wet. He blinks away the tears before they even have the chance to fall, and sets his hand gently on the back of the cushions, standing behind Crowley's head. So close, Aziraphale could reach forward and cup his face.

"I'm sorry."

That has Crowley drawing in a sharp breath. He doesn't answer Aziraphale, inviting him to say more. Apologize again, or plead his case maybe?

Whatever the reason, Aziraphale knows this is potentially his one chance to make things right.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, believing it to be a good place to start from. "I shouldn't have left you. I shouldn't have left Earth. I was... I was hoping that, as the Supreme Archangel, I could make a difference. I could allow Heaven to see just how special Earth was, and... that I could have you with him. But I couldn't have either." Aziraphale's voice shakes. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I don't know what the right thing is anymore. Everything is so skewed."

He has to take in a breath to keep himself from slurring his words.

"Jim... or, Gabriel, told me when he'd lost his memories that being around one particular person would make things okay. That if you had nothing else, and you were lost, that one particular person could make things feel better. You are my person."

Crowley is still. Aziraphale continues.

"You don't have to forgive me. I... I don't even know if I'm asking for your forgiveness. But let me at least be with you; I beg of you." Aziraphale's hand slides from the back of the sofa down to the armrest Crowley's head was leaning against. His fingers slowly crawl up Crowley's cheek, caressing his tattoo oh so gently, before cupping his angled jaw and just holding his face.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make things right," Aziraphale promises, and he means it. Once more, his shining eyes are welled up with tears. He's gotten so good at reading Crowley throughout the years, but as Aziraphale looks at him now, he hasn't the faintest clue what he could be thinking. Truthfully, as much as Aziraphale wanted Crowley to accept him, he knew he just as rightfully deserved to be turned away.

Finally, Crowley sits up. He just stays sitting, facing away from Aziraphale for a few moments, before turning back to him and scooting himself to the arm of the settee so that they're face to face.

"I'm still angry with you," Crowley states. Aziraphale smiles sadly, and nods his head.

"I figured you would be. And- it's justified, of course."

"What made you leave?"

The question surprises Aziraphale a bit, but he supposes it makes sense that Crowley would want to know, especially after Aziraphale had begged him to come with.

"I missed you." Aziraphale stares into Crowley's glasses, finding only his sad reflection within them. "I missed the world. I missed my world."

Aziraphale's fingers travel upwards, dancing against the side of Crowley's glasses. Upon being met with no resistance, he slowly slides them off of Crowley's face, and sets them aside. Crowley's eyes are wet, but otherwise hard to read.

"I'd like to be on our side, if that's okay," Aziraphale quietly says, speaking those words to Crowley and Crowley alone. A side that would consist of just the two of them. A group of the two of them.

Crowley's hand sets itself atop Aziraphale's, holding it against his face, before it slithers upwards, sliding over the length of Aziraphale's arm until he's holding Aziraphale's own soft cheek, studying his countenance.

"I shouldn't forgive you," Crowley utters, voice raspy and low. "But after six-thousand years of being around you, it was devastating not feeling your presence on Earth."

Aziraphale exhales, shaky and apologetic, sighing as his eyelids flutter shut momentarily. When his eyes reopen, Crowley is still staring at him, but his gaze has softened in such a way that Aziraphale can sense forgiveness, though both of them know things are different now. For once, they both seem to agree on where they stand in relation to Heaven and Hell, and in relation to one another.

For a few moments, they just stand in each other's presence, Aziraphale leaning against Crowley's hand while his own thumb rubs over Crowley's cheekbone. Then Crowley's pulling him closer. Slow, at first, as though testing the waters, urging him to bend down so that they're face to face.

"Am I moving too fast?" Crowley whispers.

"I should be asking you that question," Aziraphale responds, feeling relief wash over him at the way Crowley's looking at him. He's still angry - he probably will be for a while - but at least temporarily Aziraphale is forgiven.

He can feel Crowley's warm breath on his lips, but there's a pause. Perhaps Crowley is waiting to see if Aziraphale will pull away, or if he'll truly make up for his departure by connecting their mouths in a much softer fashion than Crowley initially had. Regardless of the reason, Aziraphale can't take the lingering much longer, and so slowly tilts his head to the side and presses their lips together.

It's gentle, as most things with Aziraphale are, and just as apologetic as he is. Though he hesitates, his hands eventually find Crowley's shoulders, no longer afraid of embracing him. Crowley lets him move at his pace, and his hands slowly grasp Aziraphale's coat, keeping him close but not pulling him in as he had before. They're close enough as is. Close enough for their foreheads to rest against each other when Aziraphale pulls away slightly, leaving an air of fluster between them.

"So..." Aziraphale speaks, voice low and unsure. "What now? No apology dance?"

Crowley finally snorts, a smile creasing the corner of his lips just barely visible as he turns his head to the side. It helps soothe Aziraphale further, and finally allows him the ability to smile as he straightens back up.

"No, I suppose not," Crowley answers, as he smooths out his pants and leans back against the couch. "Though, if you're still insistent on making things up to me somehow, I have a few ideas."

That has one of Aziraphale's eyebrows quirking up, as he replies "oh? I'd love to hear them, if you'd be so..." he stops before saying 'kind,' and uses "willing" instead, smiling after. Crowley smiles briefly at him in turn, before his face falls to a more neutral expression, and then a more contemplative one.

"I have one that I'm particularly inclined to suggest, but I'd like to know before I suggest it that you'll be completely honest with me," Crowley states, as he finally works his glasses off his face, allowing Aziraphale to see his gleaming yellow irises. He looks serious, though.

"I will be," Aziraphale affirms.

Crowley stares at him for just a few seconds, before pushing himself off the sofa and taking Aziraphale's hand, lightly enough for Aziraphale to pull away if he so desires but still firm enough to lead him forward. He takes them upstairs to the now-vacant bedroom Gabriel-turned-Jim previously used during his temporary stay. Aziraphale's eyes him curiously, having not yet caught on to Crowley's implications, up until Crowley's fingers are sliding beneath his coat and pulling it off of him, slowly slipping the coat down Aziraphale's arms and running his fingers down them all the same.

"Oh..." Aziraphale breathes, eyes darting from Crowley's hands to his face.

"Is this okay?"

Aziraphale lets his coat fall to the floor, and despite his urge to pick it up and hang it over a chair or something, he stays planted where he stands, Crowley's fingertips lingering over his knuckles.

"I suppose," Aziraphale answers, shying away from Crowley's gaze. "Though, it's a bit unfair."

Aziraphale reaches for Crowley's jacket, and Crowley lets Aziraphale pull it off of him, though he does comment "I thought this was all about making it up to me. This was my idea after all."

"I'm just making a few suggestions of my own, Crowley," Aziraphale replies, pulling Crowley's grey, skinny-scarf off of him as well. "If you disagree with them, you can say such."

"No, no," Crowley is quick to say, face warming at Aziraphale's casual nature. Despite this quite literally being Crowley's choice, Aziraphale had adapted rather quickly, and with a lot more relaxation than Crowley truthfully expected. "I have no complaints with this."

"Good." Aziraphale's hands still pertain a little bit of hesitancy, as doubt fills any silent moment they have, but he pushes himself to continue anyway. Who's going to stop him from touching Crowley now that he's finally allowed? No one is.

He's had Crowley's body, but he's never felt Crowley's body, and there's a clear difference between the two. And Crowley just stands there and lets him run his hands along his sides, fingers pushing against his ribcage and hip bones before ever so slightly sliding beneath the waistband of Crowley's tight pants, and it's only there that Crowley stops him.

"You'll probably need some help with that bit," he states, though Aziraphale's eyes shine at the joking manner in which Crowley speaks. While he would much prefer to go the more humanly route of properly stripping Crowley down, he knows that logically Crowley's pants probably can't slide down further than a couple millimeters without coming to an impasse.

Pulling his fingers up, Crowley makes a quick flicking motion, and in a matter of seconds his clothes are miracled off. If he has any shame about standing nude in front of Aziraphale, he's doing a great job of hiding it, and instead just takes to unbuttoning Aziraphale's vest.

He's careful with the angel's clothes, sliding them off his body slowly and making sure they land on an area of the floor where they won't be accidentally trampled. Aziraphale has little shame in being naked either; he's been alive for six thousand years, he's been indecent once or twice, but the way Crowley looks at him once his pants are dropped makes him burn internally, as though Crowley is igniting hellfire inside of him.

"Look at you," Crowley murmurs, so soft Aziraphale takes a step forward to hear him better. "You're gorgeous."

His hands linger above Aziraphale's chubby stomach, wanting to touch but hesitating despite their mutual vulnerability. Hovering upwards, Crowley instead holds Aziraphale's face, pulling him forward and leaning down to kiss him again.

It reminds Aziraphale of his time spent in heaven, longing for the taste of Crowley's lips. They'd been the last thing he tasted before departing, and he hadn't realized just how much he'd craved them until they were unattainable.

A moan slips past his lips, which has Crowley pulling away immediately.

Startled, Aziraphale almost goes to apologize, but is quickly rendered speechless by Crowley tilting his head upwards and thumbing over his lips.

"Beautiful," Crowley breathes, so delicately Aziraphale could have believed the word emerged from the wind itself. "I wish it hadn't been muffled."

"I'm sure the others won't be," comes Aziraphale's assurance, though both of them go pink in the face at his implications.

"Well," Aziraphale then begins, clasping his hands together in a flustered bid to move things along, "shall we mount the bed? I assume that's why you brought us up here in the first place." Aziraphale nods at the mattress, and Crowley looks between it and Aziraphale as though his initial plan hadn't just involved wanting to move away from the downstairs windows.

"Right, yes, of course," Crowley exclaims, nodding and pressing his lips together into a thin line. "After you."

Aziraphale smiles softly, though pulls Crowley slowly to the bed, urging him onto it first. "No, please. I insist."

Surprised, but interested, Crowley lays himself back on the bed, scooting partially up the mattress until a pillow hits the back of his shoulders. Aziraphale crawls onto the bed after him, sliding between Crowley's thin legs until their bodies are pressed together, guiding Crowley's calves around his waist.

"I never would have expected - in all of six thousand years - to be doing this with you," Crowley admits, as Aziraphale's soft hands glide over his bony figure. Unlike Crowley, who displayed more reservations about touching, Aziraphale has no trouble getting right to it. They've never properly embraced, he's realizing, and now at their most vulnerable they're going to get to.

"Have you thought about it?" Aziraphale asks, as his fingers dance down Crowley's pronounced hip bones, and then over his thighs.

"Yes."

Aziraphale nods, not saying anything in response, though his cheeks flush at the confession.

His hands slide back to Crowley's hips, rubbing over his prominent ilia, before he sheepishly asks "who... who do you want to be in control?"

He would take the reins himself if Crowley so desired, but felt it necessary to ask. This had been Crowley's idea after all; he might have had a specific way he wanted this all to go down. Besides, after no doubt feeling out of control during Aziraphale's leave, he may want to be the one to guide things.

But surprisingly, he takes Aziraphale's wrists, and pulls them until Aziraphale is falling forward, hands planted on either side of Crowley's face.

"You can take the lead," Crowley says, slurring his words a bit in an attempt to be smooth. "Might as well, with the position you're in."

Very lightly, Crowley's fingertips brush through Aziraphale's curly hair, as he feels Aziraphale's stomach press against his body. Aziraphale stares into his eyes, before they're both moving to kiss in tandem, soft and slow, appreciating the other for all they're worth. To some extent, every kiss in the near-future will be a somewhat bittersweet reminder of Aziraphale's absence - and even his initial rejection - but it was sweet enough to be worth tasting. Addicting enough to have Aziraphale pulling away to catch a breath, before kissing Crowley again, his own arms shaking in a desperate bid to keep his body from laying flat against Crowley's own while kissing him feebly. Pleasure courses through his body, but he doesn't place why until he's being lightly pushed back.

"Angel," Crowley gasps, turning his head to the side to prevent Aziraphale from kissing him once more. "You mustn't tease me."

Aziraphale goes to ask him what he means, but as he sits up he sees that Crowley's hard, leaky cock was trapped between their fronts, no doubt stimulated by any miniscule movement. Aziraphale's own cock - also hard - was in a similar position, explaining his previous arousal.

Aziraphale sits back on his calves, leaving Crowley to prop himself up on his elbows as he watches Aziraphale curiously wrap his thick fingers around his cock, and give it a few unintentionally teasing strokes.

Crowley's fingers dig into the blankets at the pleasure, and his teeth grit as he muffles an embarrassingly loud moan, tucking his head briefly into his shoulder until he can steady himself. When he sees Aziraphale watching his face with pink cheeks, he's quick to spit "well? Get on with it then!" He can feel the blood rushing to his own cheeks, and he knows Aziraphale's noticed after witnessing the angel's lips form into a soft, embarrassed smile.

Performing a small, quick miracle, Aziraphale summons a small bottle of lube. He pours some onto his fingers, and then makes sure the digits are fully coated before pressing his fingertips against Crowley's hole.

Bitterly, Crowley objects "is this really necessary?"

But Aziraphale's response is firm and sweet, as he states "of course it is. Safety first."

Two of his fat fingers then push into Crowley's hole, spreading him open leisurely as Aziraphale focuses on stretching him out. Crowley groans at the feeling, sliding his forearm over his mouth to muffle his sounds as he leans his head back against a pillow. Aziraphale watches the way his Adam's apple bobs each time his fingers slowly thrust inside.

Crowley says something, and though Aziraphale can't understand it due to his arm in the way, he can assume it's something along the lines of "hurry up." It has Aziraphale huffing, but he wants to please Crowley, and so scissors him open just a tad longer before retracting his hand, musing at the whine that slips from Crowley's throat in the process.

The bottle of lube is reopened once more and spread over Aziraphale's thick cock, before it's shut and set aside with Aziraphale's hands taking hold of Crowley's hips once more.

The tip of Aziraphale's cock presses against Crowley's hole, before slowly sliding into him, with Aziraphale leaning over Crowley as he moans. That has Crowley gasping, as he slides one of his arms around Aziraphale's body so that his hand is pressed against his back. His nails just barely sink into Aziraphale's soft flesh, but he's careful not to hurt him.

"This is quite the apology," Aziraphale murmurs, voice light and breathy as he his cock pushes fully into Crowley. "Much better than the dance, I think."

"I quite like the dance," Crowley utters in response "Perhaps I'll have you do it for me when we're done here."

Aziraphale snorts out a laugh, before he's kissing Crowley's throat. This was truly a great deal of exertion, but it was worth it to see Crowley's cheeks glow red with each bit of affection Aziraphale gave him, despite having been the one to initiate this level of intimacy.

"Tell me when you want me to move," Aziraphale then says, voice gentle. "I want to go at your pace."

"You can move now," Crowley states, almost immediately. "Don't make me wait any longer." His arm falls from his face in order to cup Aziraphale's in turn, before Crowley whispers the softest "please" Aziraphale has ever heard.

Aziraphale is filled with the upmost desire to please, and so pulls his cock halfway out, before pushing it back into Crowley, shivering at the gasp the latter lets out at the action.

Here Crowley was telling Aziraphale he sounded beautiful when his own noises were just as addicting in their own right.

Aziraphale is slow and precise with his movements, and though his eyes watch Crowley's face contort with curiosity and pleasure, his mind is dually focused on making sure Crowley feels as best as he possibly can. And maybe - rather selfishly - Aziraphale is focused on the way his cock feels buried in Crowley's ass.

He tucks his face into the crook of Crowley's neck, trying to adjust to the rather sensitive sensation of having sex for the first time. As generally sexless beings, Aziraphale would never have guessed they'd do something so human. But humanity, to some extent, was what brought them together, so really it only made sense this would happen eventually.

Eventually. Aziraphale flushes as he thinks of that word.

It's rather intense though. Sex is. His nether regions are sensitive and his body is warm, especially as it presses against Crowley's.

His lips rest against Crowley's skin as he thrusts slowly into him, and despite his urge to keep his face tucked beneath Crowley's jaw, he pulls away after a few seconds, pressing a parting kiss to Crowley's sharp collarbone.

He brings one of his hands to Crowley's cheeks, running his thumb along his cheek, before he goes "your eyes truly are gorgeous. I missed you, of course, but I missed your eyes especially."

Crowley groans at the attention, and immediately slots an arm over his eyes to obscure them. Immediately, Aziraphale is tutting and quickly grabs his hand, peeling it away from his face and pinning it to the bed beside his head. He entangles their fingers, and scolds him softly for trying to hide any bit of himself.

Under his breath, Crowley grumbles about Aziraphale being a tease, but Aziraphale just kisses him into silence, grinding their bodies together as he attempts to speed up his thrusts. With hard thrusts, he pulls himself most of the way out, and then snaps his hips all the way in, stretching Crowley open with each movement.

Crowley's own cock slides against Aziraphale's squishy stomach, stimulated relentlessly while Aziraphale moves atop him obliviously.

Suddenly, Aziraphale's hand is being squeezed by Crowley's own as he breaks away from the kiss with a loud cry, head falling back as his back arches off the bed.

Aziraphale's thrusts slow immediately, unable to read the reaction as pleasured or pained.

"Are you okay?" he asks, tightening his fingers against Crowley's hand, only to flush when Crowley doesn't even try to repress a trembling moan.

His eyes are squeezed shut as he answers "prostate..." followed by a panting "sensitive area," which has Aziraphale going red in the face as he nods wordlessly.

His body presses further into Crowley's as his cock speeds up again, this time with Aziraphale looking considerably more focused as he attempts to aim solely for that spot over and over in order to make Crowley feel the best. And he does a considerably good job, with the tip of his cock repeatedly jutting against Crowley's prostate, making the demon moan with each thrust.

Crowley's legs squeeze around his angel's chubby waist, helpless to do anything but squeeze his eyes shut and suck in shaky gasps for air. He's only able to focus on the intense onslaught of pleasure that he's facing.

He expected this to be a learning experience for both of them, but Aziraphale is surprisingly good at this. He wonders briefly if Aziraphale has ever done this before, and then thinks about how they definitely need to do this again in a non-apologetic context, before he's being quickly distracted by another thrust to the sensitive bundle of nerves within him.

Choking out a moan, Crowley grabs Aziraphale's upper arm and clings to it, nails ever so slightly digging into his skin as he forces his eyes open to watch the way his angel's stomach looks rubbing pleasurably against his slick cock.

Aziraphale's stomach engulfs it, sliding over it, before lifting up slightly and letting Crowley see the strings of sticky pre connecting his cock to Aziraphale's pudge, before he leans back down and once again squishes Crowley's shaft beneath him. Aziraphale himself feels hot, and pants as he works to please them both.

"Angel," Crowley pleads, as warmth overtakes his body. He can feel sweat building on his brow, trickling down the sides of his face.

"What do you need, Crowley?" Aziraphale asks, knuckles white with how firmly he's holding Crowley's hand. "Anything, and I'll do it." And he means it.

Yet, he doesn't expect Crowley to suddenly grit out "come in me."

Clearly, he's embarrassed as he asks for it, but Aziraphale is equally as flustered to hear it, and can't help gasping at the request as he presses his forehead to Crowley's. Against Crowley's lips he breathes out "okay, okay," while Crowley moans between his affirmations. He's straining to hold back his orgasm, waiting for Aziraphale. Always waiting for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale's own eyelids stay lightly shut as he lets out a moan of his own, soft and barely audible, driving his cock into Crowley with increasingly sloppy thrusts before his breathing picks up, face red as he presses his body fully against Crowley's. Chest to chest, as close as they could possibly be, Aziraphale thrusts his shaft deep into Crowley a final time, before coming hard inside of him. He moans as semen spills from his cock, thrusting through his orgasm, before he feels Crowley jolt beneath him.

Breathing heavily, Aziraphale pulls back in order to watch Crowley bite his bottom lip, muffling a guttural groan as his back arches into Aziraphale's chest, scratching Aziraphale's arm as he comes, before falling back against the bed with a dramatic huff as he struggles to catch his breath. Aziraphale stays above him momentarily, before pulling back and sliding out, sitting on his knees between Crowley's legs - that remain loosely wrapped around him - as he sees the mess Crowley made of their stomachs, and his own mess spilling out of Crowley's hole.

Aziraphale rubs Crowley's thigh until they've both calmed down, before he asks "would you rather miracle away this mess, or clean it up the traditional way?" which is promptly answered by Crowley waving his fingers and miracling himself a clean pair of boxers, and their mess to be wiped clean.

"Ah. I suppose that answers that."

Aziraphale slides off the bed with shaky legs, and grabs his own boxers off the ground. He slides them on carefully, before turning back to Crowley, who is staring at him as though he's holding back a question.

Smiling, Aziraphale wordlessly gets back into bed, and watches the way Crowley lets out a quiet sigh of relief, lightly wrapping his arms around Aziraphale as Aziraphale slides his arms around Crowley's back, tucking Crowley's face into his chest.

"I'm not much for sleeping, but I know you enjoy it," Aziraphale says softly. "How about you get some rest, and when you wake up we can talk about things over tea."

"And a bit of gin?"

Aziraphale laughs, gently rubbing his hand over Crowley's back. "Whatever you'd like, Crowley. Whatever you'd like."

[ci0udyd4ys]

Hey can I get yandere poe with an librarian or waitress reader :3

(It can be an scenario headcanons, or anything rily)

Yandere Poe x waitresses reader

A/n: I think this is the longest thing I've wrote?

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️

Drugging

Edgar Allan Poe was sitting at the corner table of his favorite coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee, when a waitress with fair skin, raven hair, and as you crossed the room. "Would you like anything, sir?" You asked.

Poe's head tilted to the side, his eyes piercing through you as if he could see through to your very soul. You were a creature of such beauty that it pained Poe to look at you. "Just another cup of coffee, miss," Poe said softly, a slight quaver in his voice.

You lingered for a moment, looking at Poe with a strange expression on her face, before nodding and going to get his coffee. Poe was left to his thoughts, his mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen if he were to approach you, despite the fact that he was a hermit. Poe closed his eyes, trying to block out his thoughts, but it was impossible. His mind was stuck on the idea of this you, this beauty that made him ache with an unfamiliar feeling.

Poe's eyes followed you as you moved about the coffee shop, serving other customers with a smile on your face. He couldn't help but feel a sense of jealousy towards these other customers, a feeling he had never experienced before.

He knew that this was wrong, that he didn't have the right to feel this way, but he couldn't help it. He had never felt so drawn to someone before. Poes struggled with his thoughts, trying to suppress the feelings that were brewing inside of him. He feared that if he were to ever approach you, you would reject him.

He knew that he wasn't the most attractive man, with his pale skin and thin frame. But there was something about you that drew him in, that made him want to take the risk.

Poe finally took a deep breath, mustering up all of his courage, and called out to you as you passed by his table. "Excuse me, miss," he said, his voice still hoarse from lack of use. You turned to look at him, a surprised look on your face. "Yes?" You asked, not really expecting anyone to talk to you. Poe took another deep breath, trying to steady his nerves before he spoke. "I was wondering if you might sit with me for a moment," he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Your brows furrowed as you looked at Poe, obviously trying to figure out what he wanted. "Um, sure," You Said, hesitantly approaching Poe's table. Poe's heart raced as the waitress sat down across from him, feeling as if it would explode out of his chest at any moment. Poe let out a shaky sigh, trying to steady his breathing before he spoke. "My name is Edgar Allan Poe," he said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Poe ordered you a cup of tea despite you saying there was no need for him to, you were a little hesitant to drink it after he stirred it for you and how he had been staring at you in a strange manor But, he insisted, saying it was "on the house". You finally relented, taking the drink from him, and taking a sip. Suddenly, you felt very lightheaded and dizzy. Then everything went black.

I hate the way this turned out the ending seems so unrealistic 😭😭😭

[starfall-spirit]

Precious Collateral

Read on Ao3 // Fic Masterlist // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist // Dark Feysand Masterlist

Summary: When Rhys set out to collect his dues from the head of the Archeron house, he knew the man would be begging for more time. What he didn’t expect was to be offered the youngest daughter as collateral.

After spending only a day in the temperamental woman’s company, he found himself utterly enthralled with his new guest—and with no intention of letting her father scrape together the funds that would grant her her freedom.

AN: This is going to be the darkest fic I've written so far. Definitely bringing in heavier themes than my CoN!Feysand fics have. The first chapter is short and free of any trigger warnings, but I want to give a list up front of what I have tagged so far on Ao3 for future chapters.

TW/CW: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Extremely Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Bondage, Spanking, Orgasm Denial, Dark!Rhys, Breeding Kink, Praise Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones, Power Imbalance, Daddy Kink

That said, enjoy the intro chapter!

Chapter I

Rhysand

“I have tried, I swear. Please, I have nothing to give. If I had more time…”

“I’ve given you time,” Rhys drawled, leaning back in the chair he was offered. “Months beyond the timeframe we agreed on, in fact. And still have nothing to show for it, Archeron. I believe I made the consequences of that quite clear during our original meeting.”

“Y-yes. You did. I haven’t forgotten. I only hoped if I offered you a new deal for the time being you may accept.” He kept his eyes cast down slightly, looking every bit the beta begging to keep his miserable life. “Please, I can not leave my wife and daughters with nothing.”

“One less mouth to feed. I’d say you’d be doing them a favor.”

The man swallowed hard. “My daughters,” he almost whispered. “You can have your pick. Keep one of them in your home until I can gather the money.”

Rhys just managed to catch his sneer, maintaining his mask worn for business matters such as this. One line he never crossed was trading in flesh. He hadn’t touched the trafficking circles so many of the other major players tangled themselves in and no one indebted to him had dared offer up their own child yet.

He would have laughed in the man’s face and put an end to the conversation if it wasn’t for the soft gasp outside the office door. His eyes slid in the direction of the sound before he jerked his head, a silent order to Cassian. “Let me go! You can’t—” The girl’s mouth snapped shut the moment her eyes met Rhys’. “I—”

“Well, well. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that eavesdropping is rude, pet?”

Though her fear practically radiated from her, his demand only made her raise her chin. What a little brat she was. And no wonder, he mused. The youngest Archeron was an omega. A rarity, coming from a beta mother and father. Her older sisters had been just as disappointing in that regard, even if the eldest had a mouth on her.

“It seems I was right to,” the girl snapped back. “If you’re here to tear our family apart.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer audacity. All that rage in such a tiny package. It was refreshing. “My, Abraham. Just where were you hiding this little gem when I visited you before?” Leaning down, he caught a whiff of her scent, the lilac and pear downright intoxicating, setting his alpha instincts reeling. The words to seal the deal with her father were out of his mouth before what remained of his morality could cut through the haze. “I’m going to enjoy training you, darling.”

She drew a deep breath, shuttering softly. Good, that she was just as affected by him. “You can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Can’t I, pet?” He didn’t let himself touch her, instead drawing back to his full height. “Cass, make sure she has a few things for the flight back. The rest can be provided when we’ve made it home.” Glancing back over his shoulder, he addressed her father one last time. “A pleasure doing business, Archeron.”

~~~~~

Feyre

“A hunger strike isn’t going to do you any favors, sweetheart.” She scowled, pushing the plate to the top of her tray before turning her attention back to the window. “And the cold shoulder isn’t going to earn you a ticket home.”

“Tell me what, exactly, Rhysand, would earn me some peace and quiet?” Cassian coughed sharply, clearly trying to cover his amusement. The man seated beside him—still nameless to her—just shook his head. As if Feyre was some bratty child they should never have dragged into this mess. If he was so easily convinced, perhaps his partners could be too, no matter how patient Rhysand seemed.

Turning to the window again, she tucked her knees to her chest. Where was she left now? She was seventeen, not even graduated, and being flown off to God knew where until her father could scrape together whatever the nut jobs needed to pay off the astronomical loan he’d wasted in a matter of a few weekends. Feyre had seen the ledgers. Even if her mother and older sisters refused to greet reality, she knew better.

Now she was stuck. Her family wouldn’t be able to beg or bargain for the kind of money they needed. If she was ever going to be free, she’d have to plot an escape herself.

She spent the rest of the flight studying the three men as subtly as possible. How they moved, spoke, and acted towards one another. The weapons they each carried, even in the safety of their own jet. But what bothered her most, if she was being honest, was the raw confidence each of them exuded. They knew their weapons, knew each other, and laid an unshakable trust in that. She wasn’t going to be able to turn one of Rhysand’s goons to her side. Not the top of his team, at least.

So she would wait. However long it would take, she would best them.

~~~~~

Rhysand

“What game are you playing, Rhys?” 

They were an hour from landing in Manhattan when Feyre finally drifted off, giving his brothers the freedom to truly interrogate him. “We don’t let innocents get tangled in business. It’s the one thing that puts us above the others.”

“I have no intention of selling her off, Cassian. She’s exactly what her father offered her as—collateral.”

“She’s a kid, Rhys.”

“She’s a minor for a few more months, yes, but hardly a child.”

His enforcer scowled. “So, what, December rolls around and you put her to work in the club?”

“No,” he snapped, frustrated with how obvious his investment in the girl was becoming. There was no reason he should be so against the suggestion. They paid the girls dancing in their night club, Velaris, more than most in their profession could dream of. Their clientele was vetted. Feyre would have been just fine if he threw her Mor’s way to train up for the club. “I don’t know yet. She’ll stay at the townhouse under my watch until I’ve decided. No arguments.”

“Rhys.” He met his spymaster’s eyes, loathing the hint of worry there. “Eyes on the prize?”

“Always, brother.”

~~~~~

Just going to use my Dark!Rhys taglist at the moment, but if the trigger warnings are too much please reach out so I can remove you from the taglist.

Taglist: @whatishowedyouinthedark // @ninthcircleofprythian // @sajirah // @acourtofladydeath // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer // @toporecall //@popjunkie42-blog

[klbwriting]

Surface Tension

Chapter 2: Landslide

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: none just building some fluff

Summary: The first few months are awkward, but they figure things out

Note: Chapter 2! So excited for this, and I love Orm being both confused but still trying to pretend he knows what's going on! Comments/critiques appreciated! Also, song is 'Landslides by Fleetwood Mac

The first month Y/N and Orm only exchanged pleasantries when they saw each other leaving or entering their homes. A quick hello, or how are you, followed by a hasty exit that left Orm confused, what if he had caused her to dislike him, and Y/N worried, what if he became suspicious of her? Despite their meetings being quick and dismissive both found themselves fascinated by the other. Y/N would often stand in her bathroom upstairs, in the bathtub no less, discreetly watching Orm as he walked the beach, sometimes swimming despite the chill of the autumn weather. She envied him honestly, he must have been on the surface because he wanted to be for some reason. If he were hiding out here he would be too afraid to go into the water like she was. Either that or he was still just as self-centered as he was as king and didn't fear being caught. She hadn't stepped foot in the water for the last decade, afraid that somehow her mother would find her and drag her back for punishment for a crime she had tried to prevent.

Y/N thought she was being discreet but Orm could feel her watch him. What he couldn't figure out was why she wouldn't talk to him. She hurried through any interaction they had, putting as much distance between them as possible. He didn't think he had said or done anything offensive, mostly just tried to smile and be polite. It had worked with other surface dwellers, why not her? Could she sense he didn't belong here somehow? He pondered this while he swam in the shallows of the ocean, receiving strange looks from those walking by. He knew the weather was too cold for humans to be swimming but he needed to be in the water, feel a part of the sea at least for a little while during the day. And today was the day he was finally going to confront Y/N, at least so he could apologize for whatever he had done to make her dislike him.

Orm was just coming in from the beach through the back sliding door of the house when he heard Y/N returning home through the wall splitting the house. He waited for several minutes, getting dried off, before he approached her door, knocking. She peeked out of the peephole and nearly passed out. Why was he here? Had he seen her watching him and wanted to tell her off for being creepy? She took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi," she said, trying to hide how nervous she was. Orm swallowed, almost forgetting the words he wanted to say. She looked like she had had a long day, hair in a messy ponytail and clothes wrinkled from whatever job she did. She looked like she had just gotten out of bed and the thought of her in bed almost made him blush.

"Hello, I just, I notice that you seem to run off at the sight of me and I am wondering have I...done something to offend you?" he asked finally, stringing a usable sentence together, much to his surprise. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, this was not it.

"O, um, no, I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered out, trying to think fast about why she was avoiding him. "Its just, strange man moving in next door to me, not the first time I've been polite to a neighbor and he has thought that I was flirting, I didn't want to, I just wanted to make sure you weren't a creep first before being nicer." Was that an explanation? Did those words even work? Orm drew his eyebrows together, thinking over her statement.

"I hope I didn't come off as a creep, I am not one I don't think?" he said, voice unsure. Y/N couldn't fight the smile that appeared, he seemed so sweet and genuine. He wanted her to think he was a good man, not someone to be afraid of. She took a deep breath and decided to give him a chance.

"No, you haven't, you've been perfectly respectful," she said. "I'm sorry for making assumptions but you can never be too careful can you?" Orm agreed and looked at the weather. It was overcast, but not rainy.

"Would you like to take a walk on the beach?" he asked. This was actually surprising. Y/N looked towards the back of the house, thinking about the rocks and the water and then Atlantis. Then she pictured a force arriving on the beach to carry her back to the kingdom for execution. She shook her head.

"No, but how about a walk to the park?" she asked. Orm nodded. "Give me 2 minutes to change my shirt, I just got off work and feel like I smell." She laughed at herself and Orm smiled, nodding.

While he waited he thought about the look she had on her face when she had looked towards the ocean. It wasn't boredom, or even nervousness, it was fear in her eyes. Was she scared of the water? If so, why live in this house where the waves sung him to sleep every night? What was she afraid of? He filed the question away to think about later as the door opened again and she came out in a sweater and her ponytail smoothed out.

"Shall we?" she asked, offering him her elbow. He looked at her for a second before she laughed. "Sorry, its the gentleman's job to offer his arm isn't it?" Orm cocked his head to the side before mirroring her move, sticking his elbow out. Now he wished that he had watched those movies that Arthur had talked about, maybe he would know what was supposed to happen with his arm like this. Then Y/N slid her arm through his and linked them together. Now he understood. And he liked it. They started off towards the small green park that was nearby.

"Its nice today," Y/N said, breaking the silence as they started to circle the fountain at the park entrance. "Cloudy, but the temperature isn't too cold yet. I'll bet we'll have snow soon though." Orm looked up at the sky.

"I've never seen snow before," he said. He knew about the weather pattern, water froze in the air and then fell lightly to the ground in white flakes, but he had never bothered to go see snow. He wondered if he would like it.

"A southern man, I see," Y/N said, stopping by the edge of the community garden. She walked over to the small patch she took care of, grabbing a small bit of weed that had popped up in the last day and tossed it aside. "That's my part of the garden, I grow some vegetables."

"I've never gardened before either," Orm said. As they walked he was realizing he hadn't done a lot despite being on land for almost a full year now and wondered if he should start actually trying to live instead of just hide here. He shook the thought from his head and looked back at his walking partner. "So, you just got off work, where do you work?"

"I own a cafe in town, little place that's open for breakfast and lunch," she explained. "You should come by sometime, could always use more customers." She nudged him with her elbow, making her own heart skip a beat and deciding maybe it wasn't a good idea to walk with him, be this close to him. But he was like a magnet for her and she had spent so much time trying to fight speaking to him, it had been exhausting. They could be friends.

After the walk, for two months they had small talk. Nothing too deep, just general things they liked and disliked, some bland stories from their past that could easily be pulled from almost any surface dwellers memories. They walked in the park a few days a week and despite either of their best interests they were starting to really enjoy each other's company. Y/N loved to hear Orm's laugh and see his smile. Orm liked how the sun made Y/N's eyes a deeper color, but how the rainy days brought out her silly side, splashing in puddles or swinging at the vacant, soaked, playground. These walks were Orm's favorite times of the week, but after tonight he would have another favorite to add.

It was late, after midnight, and Orm was barely dozing, a nightmare waking him over and over. One would think the nightmares he had would be about his imprisonment, or the attempted assassination from his coronation day, but no, the nightmare's were about his father on his 18th birthday. His party had just ended, and it wasn't much of a party, more a show where his father could pretend to be so happy and proud of his soon-to-be king son. They had known his father was sick by then, would be dying within the next few months, so he had thrown Orm a grand bash to remember him by. Orm couldn't recall a single thing about the evening until he was saying goodnight to his father at the door to his room.

"You ate still an embarrassment," Orvax had said, looking Orm over. He was wearing his finest armor but still felt like a child playing knight and his father knew it. "Your reign will be the worst of any of the Atlantian kings and I hate that my child is going to be the greatest disappointment in the history of the sea." Then his father went into his room and died that very night.

Orm had spent the next decade trying to prove his father wrong. He knew he had, he knew now that Arthur being king was the greatest thing that could happen to Atlantis, but there was still a part of him that felt the pang of guilt and shame of being exactly the disappointment his father knew he was going to be. He woke up with the shame swimming in his body, but this time he heard something outside. He stood, throwing on a shirt as he ventured downstairs. The sound wasn't threatening, it was, music. Y/N was outside on the back porch playing...guitar...that was the word, and singing. He thought he recognized the voice but couldn't place where from. He opened the sliding door to the back quietly, wanting to listen. She was seated on a wicker rocking chair facing the ocean, strumming as she sang to the sea.

Orm must have made a noise because the song stopped and she turned, looking at him. He blushed, feeling caught peeking into something he wasn't supposed to see. After a moment though, she smiled and waved him out. He closed the door and moved to sit on the other wicker chair out on her porch.

Oh, mirror in the sky

What is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing oceans tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

"I hope I wasn't keeping you awake," she said, still strumming softly. Orm watched her fingers, shaking his head. "I can't sleep either. What's got you awake, if you don't mind me asking."

"My past," he said softly. She nodded, seeming to understand. "You?"

"My past," she mimicked his voice before laughing. Orm chuckled. It must have been the sound of the waves or the sight of the stars because Y/N decided then to trust Orm with a little more of herself. "I was blamed for something that I didn't do, but because of me it was still able to happen. Someone almost died, so I ran. I couldn't live at home anymore, seeing what my foolishness caused so, here I am." Orm looked at her and sighed. "What? Same thing for you?"

"Worse," he said. Her eyebrows shot up. "I also did something foolish, and well, I was high on who I was, the power my name afforded me, and I did hurt people, almost killed my own brother. He forgave me, taught me a hard lesson in the process, and now I just want to figure out who I am without that world, without that power." Y/N reached out her hand and set it gently on his.

"I'm glad we found each other then, maybe we can be friends and help each other be better then we were," she said. Orm smiled, squeezing her hand and sitting back to enjoy the ocean as Y/N pulled back to start playing again, singing him to sleep.

[curseofaphrodite]

champagne problems | regulus black x reader

summary: this is regulus wondering if things would have been different if he just fought harder. (for all of us who like PAIN.)

Regulus looked around with distaste. He'd rather be writing his book, much much farther away from the present scene of ballroom dances and tiny cakes. In fact, he would be doing that if it wasn't for his mother's pestering.

L/Ns are honorable purebloods and to decline their invitation would be an act of immense disappointment. To both them and me.

Everything I do is a disappointment to you, he wanted to say, but of course, he didn't.

He had spent all morning picking out the perfect tie, which led him to throw his freshly arranged cupboard into a chaotic mess, something his father was horrified to see.

"Goodness, you'd think an elephant stampede happened here!" he had said lightheartedly, stepping over huge piles of clothes.

"What do you want?" Regulus snapped, immediately regretting it. He was supposed to be passive. He didn't throw temper tantrums, no matter how many reasons he had to.

If his father took offense, he didn't show it.

"Why don't you want to attend the function?" Mr. Black asked, tilting his head.

"I don't like weddings."

"But the bride personally invited you."

"Maybe I don't like the bride either."

"Nonsense! You practically grew up with her." He sighed. "The two of you were inseparable."

"Well, father," Regulus harshly drew another tie out of the pile, which didn't have much difference from the last one. "The only valuable thing I've learnt from Hogwarts is — shit happens."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh you can excuse both me and my foul language, but it's true. Now back to the original question, what are you doing here?"

"Sirius is waiting for you downstairs. You're late."

"Why's he coming?"

"To keep you in check."

Regulus sneered. "For that, you can trust him?"

"Your mother and I are not a fan of anything your brother does, but we also know he loves you more than he admits. He'll look out for you in case something happens."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Just get down, will you?" his voice turned sharp. "And you're not the groom, just pick a damn tie!"

****

Now he's there, standing next to an enormous ice sculpture, wondering who on earth even chose it. He had lost Sirius among the crowds, but he didn't mind. If he felt alone, that's what he was supposed to feel.

"Reggie, you made it!"

He turned to see your mother walking towards him, hands wide open for a hug. He smiled involuntarily. Your mother was a spitting image of you, both in character and looks. You had gotten your kindness, humor, and chaoticness from her, so when he saw her, he had his first hit of sadness hit across his chest.

God I miss her, he thought helplessly. And as much as he did, he wished he wouldn't see you either. He hoped against hope you were busy with the crowds to ever search for him. He knew you wouldn't. He knew you had other priorities now.

"...and don't you look as parched as ever! C'mon some of the turkey will help you out with that—"

"No Mrs. L/N, I'll—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I've saved you the best seats in the house. Hurry up, the toasts are almost starting!"

Before he knew what was happening, she was pushing him through the ocean of people until he was at a bright clearing, one with too many lights that it took him a second to realize its where the guests had already gathered around pretty tables for food.

Mrs. L/N pointed out a table near the front, and made sure he sat there despite his protests.

Regulus wondered how long the seat had been reserved. He hadn't even RSVP'd yes. Or did you just knew him too much to know he'd be there? For the first time in his life, he wish he was seated next to Sirius.

There was a clatter of chairs being moved as everyone stood up. Regulus did the same, following their gaze.

He forgot to breath for a second.

The bride was here.

**

Sure you were accompanied by your groom, but he didn't spare a look at him. Regulus knew he should stop staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off. No one could. You were absolutely stunning. White simple gown, your hair down, a diamond necklace adorning your neck — how was anyone not supposed to stare?

As you were seated at the front, just feets away from Regulus's own table, he wished he was anywhere else. It felt suffocating, and all memories came rushing back. Soon, the toasts started and people were standing up, talking things about you that he already knew. By the end of each sentence, Regulus chugged down a glass of wine. It magically refilled itself, which didn't help his self-control.

Fifteen minutes later, he was positively drunk.

"Anyone else want to go?" Mrs. L/N whispered at his table when the toasts were almost over. "Reggie?"

Regulus Black did one thing he never thought he'd do.

He giggled.

"Reg?"

"I haven't had a proper conversation with her in months!" he said, a little louder than he intended to. You raised your head at the familiar voice, but couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Could it be...?

"It was just a suggestion—"

"Nope, I'll do it. Why the fuck not." He stood up, and Mrs. L/N regretted her decision already.

"Oh dear," she whispered, sinking back into the shadows as he cleared his throat loudly.

Regulus saw your jaw hitting the floor, only seeing him now. He snorted. He brushed the front of his suit and cleared his throat.

"I hate public speaking." He finally spurted out, all bold and definite.

A room full of expectant people stared back.

"Oh no that's it... I hate public speaking." Regulus met your eyes. You were glaring back. "Shit yes, a toast! A toast to the lovely bride and groom! I don't know rat's ass about him—" a few gasps echoed through the room "—but her? Oh, I knew her alright. Don't you think so, Y/N? Don't I know you like the back of my hand?"

Sit down, you mouthed. He looked straight into your eyes as he said the next words.

"I spent half of my life loving her and the other half wishing I didn't."

The gasps earlier were nothing compared to the ones now. Your husband stared in shock when you got up from your seat.

"Great fucking wine!" Regulus concluded, raising his glass. "Cheers!" He gripped the glass with a little too much force, and the glass burst into pieces.

"Reg!" Your anger was replaced by worry, and you rushed toward him to see if he was okay. Mrs. L/N had used magic to get rid of the shards and was currently begging him to let her take a look at his hands.

"I'm FINE!" he said groggily, pulling his hand back and stepping away from the whole mess he made. When he saw you right next to him, he recoiled as if you were a snake positioned for attack.

With no other words, he left the scene, and you stalked without a second's hesitation. He didn't even know where he was going.

Anywhere but here, he thought, pushing open door after door. A blast of cold air hit his face, signaling he was finally outside. The lawn had all kinds of flowers, which looked beautiful against the dark night.

"Regulus!" you called sharply. "Your hands are bleeding, you know? Maybe slow down, for Merlin's sake!"

"Don't come near me!" He yelled, taking two steps back.

"I'm sorry," you spat those words out like it hurt you from inside. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm sorry shit got so fucking shitty with us and I'm sorry I wanted my best friend on the most important day of my life!"

"You don't get to play the martyr! I never left you, I couldn't leave you if I tried!" His words got louder by the second.

"Please let me just look at your hands."

"No."

"You're being so stubborn for no reason—"

"You left me." He sounded suddenly drained. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off. "No. Please. I'll just- go. Sorry for causing a scene."

"Reg—"

"I'll— I'll disapparate. Tell Sirius I'm going, if you're not too busy."

You tilted your head in dismay. "Okay. Should I say keep in touch or would that be too ironic?"

He scoffed first, but then sighed. "Maybe one day."

With that, he disappeared. Not a word more, not a word less.

"Maybe," you whispered into the night — alone, full of guilt and just a little heartbroken.