#thank you to everyone going feral in the tags of part one

[box-box-blorbos]

Yukierre / "A Burning Hill" by Mitski PART 2

Part 1

[oikarma]

sports car

pairing: lando norris x piastri!reader

summary: the one where lando gets outed for having a crush on his teammate's little sister.

a/n: bro it's been stuck in my head for a solid week now

liked by vogue and others

yourinstagram my vogue beauty secrets tutorial is out 🪽 all products used are linked below! thank you so much for this opportunity, was insane to me when i was informed of it and still very much is!

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user1 not fair. why is everyone on insta a freaking model

user2 where's the gold necklace from? thanks queen love you <3

yourinstagram it's from brandname brandname 😉 y/n piastri repping our gear? this calls for a c...o...l...l...a........

user3 drop the skincare routine too

user4 y/n are you ever going to a grand prix?

user5 she was at oscar's f1 debut user4 yeah but never again user4 she shouldn't be too busy as a part-time influencer like

vogue we're so glad you agreed 🤍

yourinstagram kisses!

user6 my gf (real)

user7 wait. wait. why is a vogue beauty secrets video title the way i find out y/n is a formula 1 driver's sister?

user8 well tbf she doesn't usually use her full name, probably not to seem like she's mooching off his success yk user9 no girl you're good i realized that a month ago when someone posted an edit of her and tagged it with her full name

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yourinstagram best brother 🧡 yay points

tagged: oscarpiastri

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user1 she took the comments about her not showing up to his races personally

user2 wait. y/n is his sister?? user3 oscar you thought you ate

user4 forget f1 drivers i want THIS GIRL

user5 hope you had fun !! thank you for taking a photo with me and my friends liked by yourinstagram

yourinstagram i did and i hope you did too 🫶 no worries, you both were v polite and absolutely stunning user6 she's so sweet aww

oscarpiastri I think this is your first post without any selfies. Congrats.

yourinstagram are we not partially the same people yourinstagram i thought you were smart? oscarpiastri I don't think that's how it works.

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lando on the move

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user1 i was not familiar with your game

user2 lando whoreizz more like? dang.

user3 I AM GOING FERAL NO ONE CAN HOLD ME BACK

user4 wait guys y/n piastri liked this 😭

user5 i pray the next time i accidentally make an idiot of myself on live stream my crush will notice me too user6 lmaooo help

user7 who are you posing for? y/n?

oscarpiastri Attention whore yourinstagram the girls are fighting!! user8 this cannot be real. polite piastri just called his teammate an attention whore user9 y/n u are so real for that

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fentybeauty Y/N Piastri is the new face of Fenty Beauty. @/yourinstagram

tagged: yourinstagram

user1 i just want to be a nepo baby.

user2 well y/n isn't really a nepo baby user3 nepo sister? user4 most of her image is built around her as js herself i think it's only recently (after her appearance at a gp) that people realized she was oscar piastri's sister cause they don't look alike and she usually only goes by y/n

user5 STUNNERRR

user6 am allowing myself to be influenced

user7 be so fr right now what is lando doing in the likes

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lando austin, tx

tagged: oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell

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user1 oscar? in a cowboy hat? oh i folded my ovaries exploded i swore i was wearing clothes

lando i think you've got a fan, mate @/oscarpiastri oscarpiastri That's very kind of you

user2 the only time america serves

user3 is when a fucking brit comes over user4 live laugh love lando

user5 good luck at COTAS!! papaya army will be cheering for you *liked by lando

user6 soooo lando have you shot your shot yet?

user7 pardon? user6 i mean has he officially tried to hit on y/n yet user7 no way. she's too nonchalant to date him. piastri siblings do be the coolest crushes fr

mclaren see you, sheriff

lando this town ain't big enough for us two

user8 love to see oscar hanging out w landos friend group

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yourinstagram you taste like the 4th of july

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user1 Y/NNN ARE YOU GOING TO COTAS??

user2 she must be i don't think she's ever been to the us before user3 queen y/n in mclaren paddock i'm calling it

user4 hold up am i reaching but lando posted burger joint milkshakes and she posted a burger joint and

user5 i really hate to break your bubble but there's literally no evidence to suggest they were at the SAME burger joints user6 its america its all fast food.

user7 so stunningg

oscarpiastri So you ignore your debts and post instagrams

yourinstagram what debt 😭 i paid for your concert tickets no?? oscarpiastri I paid for my concert tickets yourinstagram well we paid for each other's concert tickets yourinstagram you're jokign right do you hate me that much oscarpiastri I just wanted you to respond to me yourinstagram okay 😔 sorry brotha

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yourinstagram came to support the fam

tagged: mclaren, oscarpiastri, lando

mclaren we are so glad you did 🧡

yourinstagram the teddy is so cute i'll sleep with it every night! tysm for the wonderful welcome user1 aww

oscarpiastri I'm emotional now. Get me a tissue, please. I can't believe my sister cares about me.

yourinstagram the combination of perfect punctuation and capitalization really hit the mark. user2 he's so silly user3 oscar bfr you're glad she's finally started coming to ur races often

lando am i the fam

yourinstagram gosh i hope we're not related that would make it weird user4 well you guys are pretty close to alabama liked by yourinstagram user4 HELP??

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liked by mclaren and others

lando soon.

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user1 ? soon ? as in ? coming soon ?

user2 bro if he looked at me like that

user3 oscar can you explain your boyfriend's cryptic captions

yourinstagram soon.

user4 HELLO? user5 did she just acknowledge his existence user6 tf you mean soon girl lando soon. yourinstagram soon. lando soon. user7 they need help oscarpiastri You see what I have to put up with every day of my life?

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yourinstagram i think you know what this is

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user1 y/n and tate?

user2 the crossover we never knew we needed

user3 WAITTT YK HOW TATE HAS HER NEW MV AND SHE'S TEASING A MCLAREN DRIVER WHAT IF OSCAR OR LANDO'S DATING HER??

user4 i like the way your mind works user5 that's so awkward for her lol if it's oscar "cool you're shagging my brother" user6 or maybe it's lando probably? because he posted soon on his instagram user7 but doesn't lando have a crush on y/n? or is it not confirmed user8 girl idk

user9 baddieeees

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liked by tatemcrae and others

yourinstagram SPORTS CAR.

everybody say THANK YOU TATIANA ♡ seriously, what did i deserve to get to know her? she has put out a killer album, danced her ass off in stilettos, and did so during a non-stop tour. now she's starting another one. respect, a whole cartload of it.

but a little recap: obviously, tate wanted a driver in her music video about a SPORTS CAR. lando's team was up for it. tate (being respectful, she literally had no reason to do this whatsoever except for that fact that she's an amazing person and so very considerate) asked me to film it with lando instead. for "chemistry' and blah but again, THANK YOU TATIANA we say in unison.

hope you enjoy the music video and the song!

tagged: lando, tatemcrae

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tatemcrae there was no need to write a whole paragraph but i appreciate your recognition ♥️ considering an acting career anytime? love you loads

yourinstagram while the answer is yes, unfortunately i don't think anyone else will be considering it for me 🤪 tatemcrae also you fine asf yourinstagram u too bae rahhh user1 i love them sm

user2 that's so nice of her

user3 like i'm sure y/n would've been fine with her but giving up an MV for an actor's gf is crazy user4 i mean...it paid off. the chemistry is INSANE user5 need a man to hold me how lando holds y/n

user6 oscar jack piastri, how are you holding up?

oscarpiastri Have been avoiding the video. Have not been entirely successful. user7 LMAO poor boy lando sorry mate oscarpiastri You're not sorry in the slightest yourinstagram just close your eyes

lando thank you tatiana for orchestrating a music video for me and my girlfriend you're the goat

tatemcrae i think you're just glad you got to hard launch her this way, but you're welcome user8 y/n never called him her boyfriend BUT GUYS THiS iS CONFIRMATION THEY ARE DATING lando yes i'm her boyfriend she's my girlfriend. in case the making out and monkey business did not make that clear! user9 "monkey business" i cant anymore with him ✋

lando @/yourinstagram mommy? sorry-mommy? sorry-

yourinstagram shameless, i tell you. shameless. do it again.

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a/n: WE CAN UH-UH IN IT

[shroomyv]

ᢉ𐭩-GOOD BOY(‘S) [2]

Pairing: mark grayson x sinister mark x Mohawk mark x viltrumite mark x F!reader

Synopsis: continuation from the first story. It gets absolutely feral in that room with the other variants. IT GOES DOWN.

Warning: 4/5 sum, oral sex (male and female receiving), anal (f!receiving), harsh words, struggling, cum (lots of it…🌝😔), possibly corny dialogue

W.c: 2,899 (we went even bigger)

A/N: …so, I’m here with the 2nd part. I most definitely stayed up till 3am writing my little freakish thoughts out. I’m genuinely hoping I didn’t fuck up this story for everyone but it’s def a lil icky icky in some spots and places. Rmb this is a smut story it was always intended to be a smutty story. (This may not be the end of the series…WHO KNOWS WHO KNOWS) thanks for all the love on the first part and I hope I didn’t permanently fuck up the story for u guys being a little freak of the night. (But srsly I hope I didn’t fuck up the story for u guys ☹️😭)

Tag list: @weaponxgames @martinys-world

“No.” You replied with a stern voice continuing your way down the long hall with Your Mark by your side. You had confidence in your walk, you were on a mission and you would make it happen.

“How about now?”

“No.”

“Now?”

“No!”

You two went back and forth like this until you reached the end of the hall. Your card swiped, opening the cell door. The marks lifted their heads to look at you as they looked like they wanted something from you…like they needed something from you. You had a smile of pure confidence on your face.

“Mark…My Mark, can you stand over there at that wall.” You pointed towards the wall with every mark lined up on it as he joined the lineup—the major difference was that he wasn’t locked up in metal to make sure he didn’t get away.

You observed all 4 of them, your mind running wild with every possibility whether it was gonna be good or bad. You had to think it out as carefully as you could. Your arms crossed as your back turned to all of them. You needed absolute and genuine focus. You had plans for every one of them. Your brain finally clicked. You had your idea.

Your eyes stared at the camera in the room for a few seconds before you used your mind to the best of your ability to have it freeze on the last frame it got. You then walked up to your mark as he was a bit confused by your behavior struggling to keep following it. You looked him up and down and up one last time before kissing him. His arms flew up for a second in shock before wrapping around you. You two stumbled around the cell kissing each other hard. Your tongue snaked into his mouth as he fought back grabbing yours right back—it felt hot…your mouths fighting for control of each other. Eventually, you separated for air—a line of spit connected from both of your lips. Mark looked bashful as you looked hungry and starved for more.

The other marks stared in shock each having their own things to say

“You’re just gonna fucking do that in front of us. Are you trying to get to us or something” sinister Mark shouted in a bit of a jealous tone. He didn’t want to show it but he clearly was.

“If she’s trying to get to us…it’s honestly working…I don’t know…” Viltrumite Mark said back in a low tone trying to look everywhere but at the sight in front of him.

“If you two are just gonna fuck get out of here…fucking tease…” Mohawk's mark snarled out as he stared at you and your mark in a bit of a jealous way. He blew a little raspberry at you which made you laugh a bit.

You kicked off your heels—dropping in height a bit as your mark was most certainly confused now.

“What are you-“

You cut him off quickly with the raise of your hand as you walked to the other marks cells. The first mark you released was viltrumite mark. He flicked his wrist enjoying the feeling of his body being free again. He was confused as to why you had even let him go—he couldn’t get a read on you or your behavior at all. He stared at you and you stared right back in silence. The air was thick…it was like you two were having a contest—who could eye fuck the hardest. Eventually, you called your mark over not wanting him to get angry or left out at all. You kissed viltrumite mark harshly sucking on his lip. His eyes shot up in a bit of shock but he leaned in pressing himself against you.

Your hands sprung up—one hand was rubbing Viltrumite Mark's face, letting him know he was doing good. The other hand moves to your mark, letting him know to trust you and lean in. He leaned in kissing at your neck softly as you wanted to melt to his touch but knew you had to try and stand tall as much as you could. You were sloppily kissing Viltrumite's mark before swapping over to your mark's mouth. Whenever you switched to another mouth, the one you were just kissing looked absolutely needy and desperate for more.

Your mark kissed you softly while you matched his energy a bit more roughly to let him know he could go as crazy as he wanted and needed to. Viltrumite Mark kissed you roughly—he couldn’t get enough, he needed more of you. You kissed him softly forcing him to savor it and fold at your whim or else he wouldn’t get more. Eventually, you squished both mark's faces in your hand having them stop for a second.

You saw how Mohawk Mark and sinister Mark were starting to get pissed now that they still weren’t in on the fun nor let go off. You stood at both their cells staring them down. You went up to Sinister Mark first whispering in his ear sensually.

“If I let you out…are you gonna be good?” You softly nibbled on his ear causing his head to jerk a bit from pleasure as you waited for a response.

“Yes…” he replied a bit desperately as he wanted to join in already. He felt like he was being fucking tortured just watching the fun.

“Yes, what?” You said with a tease sucking on his neck softly as you waited for another reply. He choked up a bit not expecting it in the slightest. It felt so fucking good…he felt like sinking into your hold

“Yes ma'am! F..ngh...FUCK!” Sinister Mark shouted out quickly just wanting to be let free already. You swiped your keycard letting him free. You gave him a minute to stretch before you walked over to the last one…Mohawk mark.

“How about you? You gonna play nice?” You asked him with a smirk waiting for a response

“I’ll try, that’s the best I can give you…” he said feeling content with his answer until you walked up to him. You lifted his chin softly before licking his Adam’s apple. He was being teased and he loved it…he could only take so much though.

“Yes ma'am! Let me free fuck!” Mohawk Mark shouted as he began getting more squirmy.

“Good answer!” You replied before swiping your card. Freeing him as he dropped out of his hold.

You stood in the middle of the room as the four marks surrounded you. You gave an evil smile before rubbing each of their faces. You were gonna have the time of your fucking life with 3 versions of your boyfriend…and him of course~

It was like a fucking war in the middle of that room. They were all fighting to get to your lips. Your mark had latched onto your lips first kissing you sloppily as he wanted the most of you. He was yours, obviously, he deserved the most. Mohawk Mark hadn’t even gotten a turn and wanted one. He stayed at your left fighting for your lips whenever you were free from your mark's clutches. Viltrumite mark desperately kissed your neck and collar bones. He needed more of you but had to wait his turn. Finally, sinister mark stayed at the back of your neck sucking hard to place marks, hickeys, and bruises wherever he fucking could.

You got to breathe for 5 seconds at most because whenever you went out for air another pair of lips were snaking at you. They needed you…they yearned for your touch and hold. You felt yourself growing wet and you had to keep it going. The pile of marks and you—now on the floor as they still snake for kisses while you struggle to unbutton your shirt. Sinister Mark saw this as he grabbed onto your collar roughly.

“You won’t be needing that anymore.” He said before tearing the shirt from the back

The other marks saw this quickly joining in as they all ripped off bits and pieces of your clothes before tearing off bits and pieces of their own. You were all like snakes, raggedly ruining everything just to get to each other. Your panties were drenched as they all leaned over you watching you catch your breath. You hadn’t even started and you were already in pure bliss

Your mark spoke to you softly “You ok baby?”

“We haven’t even started yet and she’s already dying…may just be pathetic.” Mohawk Mark said with his arms crossed as if his fun was ruined

You weren’t gonna let him talk about you any kind of way and get away with it. You held yourself up with your elbows before grabbing at his hair. He yelped in pain a bit before his face was roughly shoved against your cunt.

“Well? Get to fucking sucking.” You tried to look as mean as you could, you needed him—no, them to know that you meant absolute business.

“Y..yes.” He choked out as he looked surprised at you standing your ground even though it was 4 against 1.

He began sucking at your pussy quickly as you felt your thighs getting ready to shut on his face. Before they could crush him to death, Viltrumite Mark grabbed at a thigh holding it still as best as he could.

“I’ll take this for you.” He said in a snarky tone before he began sucking on your thigh harshly. He wanted to leave marks everywhere.

“Oh…oh fuck.” You moaned out softly. It felt amazing. However, that was only two of them—there were two more who needed their hunger satisfied. Your mark rushed over to your lips in a heartbeat beat trying to keep them all to himself as best as he could. Sinister Mark went to your breast dragging his tongue across the hard nipple trying to get you to cum as fast as he could so he could get a turn at you.

All of them on you, each focusing on different parts and areas felt absolutely fucking intoxicating. Your mark was basically devouring your moans—sucking and kissing at your lips with every chance he got. Mohawk Mark kept sucking at your pussy, were you tensing the hell up due to all the pressure.

They were eating you alive—you basically threw yourself in shark-infested waters. Your eyes shoot to each of them not knowing which one to focus on.

“Oh god…! Ngh- you…you guys…mhgn…fuck-“ you breathed raggedly as your mark just kept plunging his tongue into your mouth. You were practically choking on your moans

“You close? I call dibs next!” Viltrumite Mark said hastily as he sucked on your thigh. He couldn’t get enough of it, it was soft, and he wanted to latch onto it forever.

“There is no dib…she’s a person…” your mark said with a snarl reminding them that you were a person, not an object. Them arguing over you was honestly turning you on more and more having multiple versions of your boyfriend that each acted differently go crazy over you was absolutely intoxicating.

It was all too much for you as your legs finally gave a little shake before you came. Your mark and Mohawk mark were the first to notice. Mohawk Mark lifted up with a cum covered face as he leaned back catching his breath waiting for whatever command you were gonna throw out next. You shook your leg getting viltrumite mark off of you as he gave you a sour look. You had to practically shove sinister mark to get him to unlatch from your breast and your mark moved as soon as you told him to.

“Listen…” you said panting for breath as you were thinking of the next activity to do with them. You sat yourself up as you grabbed Saint Mark's arm having him lie on the floor.

“Finally…my fucking turn.” Sinister Mark said readily. He wanted whatever you threw at him. You had your mark and Mohawk mark get on the side of you and viltrumite mark sat in front of you. You touched their faces once more before getting ready to act.

You mounted yourself on Sinister marks cock. Your breath hitched but you kept going, you felt like you were gonna collapse but you had to pull through. Besides he was already huffing just from you sliding on his cock.

You began to pick up your pace—your moans and huffs picked up as you struggled to keep balance. Luckily, your mark being a fucking saint, helped you balance yourself. You had two free hands….so you got to work. You slowly stroked Mohawk's mark and your mark off while Viltrumite's mark had to do it for himself.

God it was an absolute struggle—tears of pure pleasure leaving your eyes as you struggled to please all of them at once

“Fuck…I’m so…” sinister Mark huffed and whimpered out breathily as he was struggling to not explode inside of you already

Your mark and Mohawk mark were struggling to keep you and themselves up as their hips were bucking due to being stroked off. Luckily for you, sinister Mark had finished off…he came inside of you quickly—laying back to catch his breath.

You struggled to keep wake—you stroked off Mohawk mark and your mark as fast as you could to get it over with. 1 mark cummed inside of you…the other 3? They cummed on you. Your face, tits, and side are coated in semen. You were pleased with your work but knew they were still hungry. You were so exhausted though.

You slide sinister Mark's cock out of you as you laid back on the floor huffing for breath before they stood over you again.

“She’s struggling,” Mohawk Mark said as he was catching his breath

“Shit…she’s basically been doing all the fucking work, 1 of her against 4 of us mother fuckers.” Sinister Mark said as he gave the rest of the marks a glance.

“Let’s do this one for her…” your mark suggested as they all stopped in silence for a second

They shared glances and looks before looking back at you for some sort of approval. You felt like you were gonna pass out but you knew you had one more in you…

You nodded as they put whatever they had in mind into motion.

“Let’s stuff her like one of those donut things.” Mohawk Mark said with no remorse as they lifted you. Your mark was first up—they lifted you before slowly sliding you on your mark's cock. You felt like you were gonna crash.

“Can’t…can’t keep up-“ you whimpered out as you shed a little tear from the overstimulation.

“You got this…trust us.” Your mark said softly reassuring you as they continued. Mohawk Mark used his fingers to softly pick up some of the cum on your tit as he rubbed it on your anal hole. He slowly entered you feeling your hole wrap around him quickly. Your breath was hitched now as you had two people in you at once.

Viltrumite Mark kissed your lips softly for once before he moved his dick to your face. You knew what was next as you opened your mouth a bit allowing him to enter. He knew you were already struggling—he wouldn’t go that deep and kill you. They needed you alive.

Lastly, sinister mark had you raise your hand. He wanted a handy. You stroked as best as you could while being used up.

“MPHM- ngh!-“The only thing that could leave your mouth was muffled moans because the only thing that was entering it was cock. All your senses were being attacked. Each hole was being filled to the brim. Tears left your eyes as you were struggling to even stay awake from the overstimulation at this point

They went as fast as they could to please not only themselves—but you. Everyone struggling and hitching for air as you finally tighten around your mark giving him a stare of satisfaction. You cummed harder than you ever had before as the other marks quickly followed suit

Viltrumite mark cumming in your mouth as he watched you swallow every last bit like it was good. It was salty but god you just couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing it.

Sinister mark came over your hand and arm before rubbing your head being satisfied with your work

Your mark filled up your vagina as best as he could before sliding himself out of you like you were some donut, and Mohawk Mark did the same thing with your anal hole. You were absolutely sore—it hurted everywhere. But with that pain, so much fucking pleasure came to. You were absolutely satisfied covered in marks or bruises. (no pun intended)

All of you obviously reeking and covered in sweat—laying in a pile as you were struggling to keep yourself awake and catch your breath.

“You…all of you…you’re coming home with me,” you said with as much sternness as you could before passing out asleep in a pile of marks. You were fucked to sleep and now in complete bliss.

(A/n: there will definitely be another part sometime soon 🚪🚶‍♀️😗)

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.

↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.

tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k

author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 

you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.

“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”

yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”

fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 

you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 

begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”

neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 

he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”

“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”

“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.

if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.

“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”

PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto

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[mahalachives]

Part 4: The Fic That Broke the Spymaster

Summary: You were just rereading A Court of Thorns and Roses in bed when the universe decided to yeet you straight into Prythian, landing face-first in Rhysand’s lap. Now, you're a pajama-clad disaster with Cheeto fingers, emotionally harassing Azriel, befriending Mor, verbally sparring with the High Lords, and naming feral chickens after the Shadowsinger. You may not know why you’re here, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to make it everyone's problem.

Oops, I tripped Into Prythian - Masterlist

The shadows should have known better.

He should have known better.

But there it was.

Your phone. Glamour-spelled to work in Prythian thanks to Helion, who declared that “access to filth is a fundamental right”, was in his hands. The screen was glowing softly in the darkness of the library.

Midnight. Silence. A crackling fire.

And one very concerned Shadowsinger, sitting cross-legged with an open mind and so many regrets.

He only meant to scroll.

Just a little.

Just to understand why you'd said things like “Azriel, you’re basically a one-winged angst machine with a six-pack and a tragic backstory, fanfic gold.”

So he clicked one.

One. Single. Fic.

Title: “Darkness Between Us” Tags: Azriel x Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Smut with Feelings, Shadow Play, Wingspan Mentioned Thrice, Emotional Catharsis via Orgasm, 7k words of Eye Contact

He frowned. “Seems… dramatic.”

He started reading.

Five Minutes In

“She gasped as his shadows pinned her wrists to the mattress, cool and alive, like tendrils of pleasure-touched silk-”

Azriel blinked.

Then blinked again.

“…Silk?” he muttered.

One of his actual shadows coiled around his arm, scandalized.

“I don’t do that,” he whispered to it.

It wiggled suspiciously.

Ten Minutes In

“His siphons pulsed in time with her heartbeat, glowing with the force of his restrained desire. He leaned down, voice a velvet growl, ‘Tell me what you want, sweetheart.’”

Azriel made a noise. A sound. Like a dying kettle.

He slammed the phone down, breathing hard.

Looked around the empty room.

Picked the phone back up.

“Cauldron forgive me,” he murmured, and kept reading.

Fifteen Minutes In

“She moaned his name like a prayer, fingers in his hair, dragging him closer as his shadows bound them together like destiny itself. ‘You’re mine, Azriel,’ she cried, ‘and I’m yours.’”

He sat back, stared at the ceiling, and whispered to no one.

“…Am I okay?”

Twenty Minutes In

Azriel slammed the phone face-down on the floor.

Then face-up.

Then face-down again.

He stood. Paced. Sat again.

Tugged at his hair.

Growled softly to himself. “I don’t say things like that. I don’t say ‘Give me all of you, little flame.’ Who wrote this- who talks like this?!”

He scrolled to the bottom of the fic.

Author: ShadowLover420

“Cauldron boil me alive.”

He tapped the comments.

“Azriel can shadowplay me into next week 😩🔥” “THE WINGSPAN?? MA’AM??”

“I blacked out at ‘my light in the darkness’ and woke up engaged.”

He made the mistake of clicking the tag ‘Wingspan Porn’.

Thirty Minutes In

He was lying flat on the library floor, phone balanced on his face, whispering like a man in the throes of war flashbacks.

“They had a chart,” he muttered. “Of relative wing sizes. With math.”

Cassian appeared in the doorway, blinking blearily. “Bro… are you reading fic again?”

Azriel didn’t move. “There was oil. And poetry. In the same scene.”

Cassian wandered over, peered down at the screen. “Ohhh, is this the one where you pin her to the wall with shadows and confess your love while kissing her spine?”

Azriel let out a strangled noise. “You knew?!”

Cassian snorted. “Please. I left a comment. ‘Cassian_69.’ Got 200 likes.”

Azriel stared at him. “You’re the reason this has a sequel.”

Cassian beamed. “You're welcome.”

Five Minutes Later

You entered the library to find Azriel on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, shadows buzzing like disturbed bees. Cassian was wheezing with laughter.

“You wrote this,” Azriel said darkly. “Didn’t you.”

You appeared in the doorway, yawned, stretched. “Wrote what?”

He raised the phone. “‘Whispers in the Shadows’?!”

You blinked at the screen. “Oh, that’s one of my better ones.”

Azriel's soul left his body.

“You wrote yourself kissing me against a window while my shadows tied your ankles to the curtain rod.”

You nodded. “Good imagery, right?”

“There was an entire paragraph about my ‘quietly dominant aura.’”

You grinned. “I stand by it.”

“The shadows formed a BED.”

“They’re creative!”

“And the moonlight was described as ‘jealous’ of your orgasms!”

You clapped your hands. “That was a poetic moment, thank you for noticing-”

Azriel walked out of the room. Slowly. Silently. Dramatically.

Cassian snorted. “He’s going to brood about this for weeks.”

You shrugged, already pulling up your next WIP.

He’d be fine.

Eventually.

Probably.

Two Hours Later

You found a note under your pillow.

It read: “Your metaphors are ridiculous. —Azriel”

P.S. The shadow play wasn’t inaccurate.

You screamed.

Somewhere in the House, Azriel smirked.

To Be Continued.

[bugboi01]

I'll be gentle, my love Chapter 1 pt1

Tag list: @greenkiki @mybones537

Prologue

The morning after your odd interaction at dinner was a Saturday, and you were grateful for the chance to sleep in. Whoever said senior year was easy was a liar. You were exhausted, the kind of bone deep exhaustion that left one longing to sink into their bed and never get up. Unfortunately, a knock at your bedroom door interrupted your plans. You slowly got up, still half-asleep, and made your way to the door. Opening it, you were greeted to an interesting sight. Damian stood in front of you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. He looked up at you disdainfully before roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you downstairs with a surprising amount of strength for someone his size.

“Father wishes for you to join us for breakfast,” Damian muttered as an explanation. He seemed annoyed by the prospect of you cutting into his time with Bruce. You remembered what it was like the first few days after Damian was brought home. He was like a feral cat, always snarling and hissing whenever you tried to get close. He was also rather cruel, constantly mocking you and reminding you that the rest of the family cared more for him than they did you. Alfred had overheard one time and was furious with Damian. It was the only time you’ve seen the normally composed butler express anger. Damian left you alone after that, but he had also mellowed out over the years as well.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize you both had reached the dining room until Damian was roughly shoving you towards your chair. Alfred gives the boy a disapproving stare but goes back to setting up breakfast for everyone.

“Thank you, Alfred,” you whisper as he sets down a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of you. You let out a happy hum as you take your first bite, legs swaying in blissful delight. Alfred's cooking certainly was the best. A pity you don't get to have it more often since you usually missed meals with the family. That's part of the reason the manor always felt so empty, everyone else operated on a vigilante schedule.

A rough hand on your shoulder startled you out of your pancake bliss. It's been a while since someone had touched you with such familiarity. The hand went to move, but your hand shot out subconsciously, a whine stuck in your throat at the thought of losing the gentle touch. You looked up and saw the hand belonged to none other than Bruce Wayne. Your face burned with embarrassment, turning even more red when you noticed the increased worry in his eyes. You let go of his arm, but his hand stayed.

"S-sorry," you stuttered out, but still, he doesn't remove his hand. Instead, he took the seat next to you, shifting his hand to hold yours.

"Don't be," he murmured. His voice was sweet and gentle in a way you had only heard him use when someone was hurt. It confused you, but it also soothed an ache you didn't know you had. You decided to take your chances and leaned into the touch a little, causing Bruce to tighten his hold on you encouragingly. Damian's eyes were on you the entire time. Not that you noticed with the way Bruce was suddenly showering you with attention.

The rest of breakfast passed as normally as it could. You assumed Bruce's touchiness came from last night's conversation at dinner. Not that you were complaining. You intended on soaking up the attention as long as you could.

(A/N next part will be Bruce's pov, I think. Sorry it's a bit short, but I wanted to get it out before the new year. Also, comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Thank you for reading!)

[wholoveseggs]

Hello. Was wondering if you’d be willing to write about a dom Elijah with a reader who’s just being an absolute brat and he’s over it please?

Cat and Mouse

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's your anniversary party, but you are terribly bored, and the one person you actually want to be around isn't playing fair.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) This was a blast to write, dom Elijah makes me feral too ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutttt, Elijah being playful, dom!Elijah, rough sex, anal sex, choking, hair pulling, Elijah using his tie as a leash, oral sex, and a game of hide & seek....

Elijah was a gentleman in the most basic sense of the word; his smile was disarming, his words were polite, and his eyes were soft and caring. And, for the most part, that was true.

And to the untrained eye, it looked as though Elijah was simply guiding you to a quiet corner, hand placed lightly on the small of your back, a gentle smile on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes.

But once you were alone, it was very clear Elijah was not going to be as kind as he was making himself out to be. You had been misbehaving, and he was about to give you a reminder of exactly what happened when you did.

You were going to pay dearly for what you had been doing. And it was all because you were bored.

You had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get Elijah to notice you, and you had been failing at it miserably.

The party was his idea, and you didn't care much for them. But, like everything else, Elijah was very convincing and got you to agree. You were now regretting that.

It was your anniversary, and while you were happy to be with Elijah, you hated parties, especially ones where you were the guest of honor.

Elijah had made sure every last detail was taken care of, and he was determined that everyone had a great time, and that included you. So when he caught you rolling your eyes, or looking bored, he was quick to correct you.

You only wanted one thing out of this special day, and it wasn't something you could do in the middle of the crowded ballroom.

So, after yet another failed attempt at getting him to pay attention to you, you decided to do the only thing you could think of.

You would start annoying him.

So far, the only person you'd managed to annoy was yourself. You hadn't even made Elijah blink.

So you decided to start small. You started with little things.

You would pretend to affectionately adjust his tie, but leave it in a way that you knew would irritate him. He didn't even acknowledge it.

When he pulled you on to the dancefloor, you would purposefully step on his toes, scuffing up his perfectly polished shoes. He just chuckled softly and held you tighter, but still didn't say anything.

After that, you got a little more desperate.

You were standing beside him, trying to talk to one of the other guests, but you had no idea what they were talking about, and you didn't really care. Your hand wandered from his side, down to his hip, then further down to his ass. You gave it a little squeeze.

Elijah didn't even flinch.

He kept talking like nothing had happened, and you had no idea if you had managed to piss him off, or not.

That was until he excused the two of you and guided you away from the ballroom, his hand firm on your back, his smile gone, and his eyes dark and serious.

"Do you think you're funny?" Elijah asked, his voice low.

"Yes," you replied.

His hand was still light on the small of your back, but his fingers were pressing into your spine, forcing you to stand straight. His smile was still pleasant, but his lips were tight and his jaw was set.

You were in a quiet corridor, out of earshot of the other guests. He backed you up against the wall, his hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place.

"You have been acting out." His voice was still calm, but his tone was sharper, and you winced at his words. "You've been defiant, and rude, and you disobeyed me, and I'm beginning to suspect it's a deliberate choice."

He was right, it was deliberate, you wanted to piss him off, make him react. You liked pushing his buttons, but he was always so controlled, it was getting harder and harder to get a reaction from him.

You had this secret fantasy, to get Elijah so riled up that he would lose his cool and fuck you like an animal. To fight, and struggle, and have him pin you down, and take what was his. You had always felt safe with Elijah, he is your loving husband, he would never hurt you, but sometimes, when you were in the mood, you wanted to play rough.

And when you saw him in his perfectly tailored tux, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You needed it, so badly. You couldn't wait anymore, you were sick of him being so polite, composed, and controlled.

You wanted him to be rough, aggressive, and dominant. You wanted him to hold you down and have his way with you. You had discussed this fantasy with him before, and he'd been... not dismissive, per se, but not willing to fulfill it. He'd explained why, he was afraid he would hurt you. But you were no delicate flower; you were a vampire like him, and you could take a rough fucking.

"Yes, and?" You replied defiantly.

His eyebrows arched slightly and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Since you want to act like a child and play games, let's play one," His voice was steady and smooth, but the fire was in his eyes, and a thrill ran through your body. "You will run and hide, and I will come and find you, and when I catch you..." he leaned in, his mouth next to your ear, his breath hot on your skin, "I will have my way with you."

Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your heart pounding. You licked your lips.

"What do I get when I win?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"You won't," Elijah said matter-of-factly.

You stared at him for a moment, waiting for the inevitable 'but,' but it never came. You didn't have a chance of winning. He was faster and stronger than you, and you both knew it.

"3...2...1." His voice was soft and playful, and then you heard the sound of his feet as he rushed off.

You spun around and tried to catch him, but he was gone, and all you could see was a blur. You began to run, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you hurried through the compound.

You sped all the way back to the party, stopping suddenly when you entered the ballroom, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You quickly fixed your dress and looked around. There was no sign of Elijah, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't following you, maybe he was giving you a chance.

As you looked around the room, searching for a place that you could use to your advantage, you felt his warm hand on the small of your back. He pulled you against him, his hand sliding up and caressing the nape of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Behind you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his other hand sliding around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his hands roaming over your curves.

You pulled away from him and spun around but he had vanished. He was faster than you, his movements quicker, and you struggled to track him.

It was equally infuriating and arousing how he teased you, playing a cat and mouse game. He was having fun, and it made you want him even more.

The crowd of guests parted and you saw him, leaning against the far wall, a glass of champagne in his hand, his gaze fixed on you. You stared at him, daring him to approach you, but he didn't move. He was just grinning, his eyes sparkling as the music changed, and Elijah moved.

You watched him walk toward you, his steps confident, his shoulders squared, and a wicked smirk on his face. Then he was suddenly gone, and you gasped.

You searched the crowd frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared again, and you knew it was futile to search for him. You knew he was watching, enjoying the chase.

"Just admit defeat and I'll go easy on you," his voice was a seductive whisper in your ear. You didn't know how he did that, and it sent a chill down your spine.

You swallowed hard, and looked around. He wasn't there, but you could still hear his voice, feel his breath on your skin.

"Or perhaps you want me to chase you, to hunt you down, and fuck you in front of all these people," he chuckled, and your face flushed, and your pulse quickened. "Maybe that's what you've been trying to accomplish."

"You think too highly of yourself," you retorted, hoping your voice sounded calmer than you felt.

"You look like you're talking to yourself in the middle of the ballroom," Elijah's voice was smooth, and he sounded like he was right behind you. You spun around, but he wasn't there. "You should be careful, or someone might think you're crazy."

You were growing tired of the chase; of Elijah's smugness. You were frustrated, and horny, and you were starting to hate him a little. You headed towards the stairs, deciding that you were going to lure him to a more private setting.

Just then you heard the sound of tapping against champagne flutes. Elijah was making his way to the stage, a microphone in his hand. He looked perfect, standing tall and proud, his smile wide and dazzling. You felt your heart race. You stood there, frozen, as Elijah addressed the guests.

"It's time for my wife and I to make a toast," he said, his voice deep and resonating. He looked at you, gesturing you to come to the stage. You felt everyone's eyes on you and you had no choice but to follow. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. 

"When I first met my wife," he said, his eyes focused on you, "I knew right away that she was the one." He smiled down at you, and you smiled back, a blush spreading across your cheeks. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into your flesh. "She is the most beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman I have ever met. And now, after all this time, I'm more in love with her than I ever thought possible." He was looking deep into your eyes, and you felt your knees go weak. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, and you melted into him. "Happy anniversary my love,"

The crowd cheered and clapped, and the band started playing again. Elijah kissed your cheek, then whispered in your ear, "We're not done playing yet. Go and hide, and don't let me find you." His voice was a growl and his lips were hot on your ear. You pulled away and stared at him, your heart racing, and you saw a glint in his eye. He was still playing with you, and you were ready for him. You rushed off, and Elijah was once again chasing you.

You managed to make it to the top of the stairs, looking around frantically, trying to decide which way to go. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making it difficult for you to focus.

You decided to turn left, and headed down the hall. As you turned the corner, you saw Elijah standing at the end of the hall, by the window, looking out. He turned and looked at you and you bolted in the other direction.

You heard him chuckle softly as you ran, and he followed close behind. You almost made it to the landing, but his strong arm snaked around your waist and hauled you backwards, you let out a squeak as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you down the hall.

"Let go of me," you demanded, trying to struggle out of his grasp.

He kicked open the door to the nearest bedroom, and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Behave," he ordered, throwing you on the bed.

You glared at him, and sat up, you were not going to give in, not yet. He pushed you back down with one hand, the other undoing his tie and sliding it off.

The vision of him, his hair messy and his eyes wild, his jaw clenched, his hands working at the buttons of his shirt, was one that would be burned into your memory forever. It was the most erotic thing you had ever seen, and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

He smiled, and slid his shirt off, and then undid his belt, pulling it free. He tossed it aside, and his hands went to the button and zipper of his pants.

"Take off your dress," he ordered.

"No."

He smirked, and grabbed the fabric in the center of the dress, and yanked. It ripped apart easily, and he tossed the ruined garment aside.

"It wasn't a request," he growled, pushing his pants down, and stepping out of them.

He grabbed your thighs, and yanked them apart, and crawled up on the bed between them. His hands moved up to your waist, and he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted under him, and his tongue parted your lips, seeking yours. You moaned as he kissed you, and you could feel his hard cock pressed against you.

"You have been so naughty," he murmured, pulling away, and looking down at you. "And I have been patient, I've given you plenty of chances to stop, and now you've reached your last warning."

He pulled back, and his hand came up to cup your face.

"Be a good girl and apologize," he purred.

"Fuck off." You replied defiantly.

He growled and pulled you up, flipping you over and yanking your hips up, his fangs sunk into your ass, making you cry out.

"Say you're sorry," he growled, licking the bite.

"Never," you hissed, pushing back against him.

"You are such a brat," he chuckled, grabbing your hair and pulling it, making you arch your back.

He grabbed his tie, wrapping it around your neck and using it as a leash, pulling you back against him, his hand reaching down to your panties. His fingers gently rubbing over the wet fabric, a stark contrast to his rough grip on your neck.

"These are a little wet, my love," he teased, sliding a finger underneath the material, and running it along your slit.

"Shut up." You hissed, your legs shaking, and your pussy aching.

"What was that?" He growled, pulling the tie tighter, forcing your head back so it was resting on his chest. He looked down at your desperate expression, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen, and licked his lips.

He pushed you back down onto the bed, pressing your face into the mattress, and slid the panties off, tossing them aside. He let out a low, satisfied moan, as he got a view of your perfect, dripping cunt.

"Looks like I've found the perfect punishment," he purred, sliding his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh.

He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. Then he flipped you over onto your back, and pulled you to the edge of the bed, and spread your legs, exposing your glistening pussy.

"You can beg all you want," he said, spreading the lube over his fingers. "But until I think you're sincere, I won't fuck your pretty little pussy."

"I hate you," you spat, as his fingers slid over your ass, coating it with lube.

"I love you, too," he replied, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

He pushed one finger into your tight asshole, making you gasp.

"Hmm, when was the last time I fucked this hole?" He asked, slowly pumping his finger in and out. "Must have been a few months ago, it's very tight."

"Please," you whimpered, as his fingers stretched your hole.

"You'll have to do better than that, darling," he purred, adding another finger, stretching your hole further. His hand came down hard and smacked your thigh, leaving a red handprint behind.

"Fuck you," you growled.

He chuckled, and pulled his fingers out, and lubed up his cock, stroking it.

"Oh, I plan on it."

He leaned down, and pushed the head of his cock into your ass, and then stopped, a smug smile on his face.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He said, his voice low and dangerous. "You wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like an animal."

You tried to wriggle free, but he had you pinned. He was stronger than you, and he knew it. He grabbed your throat and squeezed, cutting off your air.

"Well, here we are." He growled, pushing his cock deeper into your ass, until his balls were pressed against your skin.

He wound the tie around his fist, pulling it towards him, and used it as a leash, dragging your neck upwards, forcing you to look at where you were connected. His other hand reached down, and rubbed your clit, his thumb swirling around it.

"Please," you moaned, and his hand came down again, and smacked your pussy.

"What was that, darling?" He teased, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, as his cock twitched in your ass.

"Please fuck me, I need you," you whimpered, your pussy throbbing.

He began to move his hips, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he pounded your ass.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, his hand coming up and smacking your face. "You're being such a good little whore, taking my cock in your ass."

You opened your mouth to say something, but his fingers slid into your mouth, causing you to gag and choke.

"Don't worry, I'm going to fuck that pretty little pussy soon," he moaned, his pace quickening, as his hips slapped against yours. "I could never deny my wife such pleasure."

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and slid his hand down your body, his fingers dancing over your skin, and then slipping inside your cunt.

"Such a beautiful pussy." His voice was thick, and he licked his lips. "And it's all mine."

He was completely in control, and he was enjoying every second of it. The look on his face made you ache. He was so beautiful, and powerful and you loved it. Your whole world narrowed to the sensations his skilled fingers and his thick cock were drawing out of you.

He pulled on the tie, restricting your breathing, and the feeling sent a surge of arousal straight to your core. He pushed his fingers deep inside you and rubbed his palm against your clit, and you writhed beneath him, moaning and gasping. Elijah watched your every expression, pushing you right up to the edge of release and then he pulled away, leaving you glaring up at him in frustration.

"If you behaved tonight, I would let you cum," He cooed, before releasing the tie and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, watching you with amusement.

"Now you will have to wait for my permission," He smirked. "Come and ride your husband's cock."

You glared at him, but obediently did what you were told, you were too pent up to not accept the compromise. You crawled up the bed, and straddled him. Elijah looked up at you with a smile, his dark eyes sparkling, the lines around his eyes deepening. His arms came around you and slid up your back as he kissed you, teasing your mouth with his tongue. You relaxed into him, and returned his passion, but he caught your hands before you could put them to good use. 

"Turn around, my love. I want you to sit on my cock with that pretty ass of yours." He commanded.

You swallowed and nodded. You rotated yourself, placing your knees either side of his thighs, and rose up onto your knees. His large hands went to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, and spreading it wide. You lowered yourself carefully, moaning as his cock eased into your pussy. You sank all the way down, until your thighs were touching his, your soft rear pressed against his body. 

Elijah groaned and his fingers dug in. You placed your hands on his thighs and began to rock your hips, sliding up and down his length, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. His cock filled you up perfectly, and you were soon riding him fast, desperately chasing the orgasm that he had denied you.

He watched the way you bounced, the way your ass cheeks jiggled, the way your wetness coated his cock, the way your body reacted to him. He was hypnotized, his eyes glued to your every movement. It was in these moments he couldn't believe you were actually his wife, that this wasn't a dream. He saw how much you wanted and needed him and it thrilled him beyond words.

It wasn't just the sex. It was the way you'd react to little things. How you would blush at even the smallest gestures, the way you gasped when his fingertips would graze the small of your back as he leaned in close, or the soft little moans you would make when he kissed and touched you, it made his heart ache with love and desire.

You were his drug and he was hopelessly addicted, the chase, the hunt, the thrill was not just pleasurable, it was sustenance. Every time he took you it made him a stronger, more confident, more capable man. And when you would moan his name? He was lost. Utterly lost.

His tie was still hanging off your neck, the fabric moving back and forth against your back with each movement. His fingers danced up your spine and he wrapped the tie around his fist and used it to pull you against his chest.

"Aren't you forgetting something," He grinned, licking the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "Don't I deserve an apology for your behavior from earlier?"

"Not a fucking chance," you hissed, and tried pull away but he pulled tighter and pushed deeper.

"Wrong answer." He chuckled darkly, letting go of the tie and pushing you forward with such force your hands came off his thighs and pressed into the bed, stopping yourself from falling face-first into the sheets. You looked back at him with a glare, but he just laughed and shook his head. His strong hands dug into your hips, and he began to thrust his hips hard, the smacks of his skin against yours echoing in the large bedroom. You reached back, needing to touch him, to get some purchase but he wasn't having it.

He could see that you were panting, trying desperately to stay afloat in the ocean of ecstasy he was drowning you in. But the real reward was listening to the desperate sounds escaping your mouth. You loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you and he decided to take it a step further.

Elijah let go of your hips and you immediately got off his lap and started to climb up the bed to escape but his reflexes were far better than yours. He yanked you back by your thighs and you kicked your legs to get free but that only served to egg him on. 

"I've told you to behave." He warned in a low, seductive voice.

You felt the pull of his tie again, and he yanked you backwards, positioning you so that you were on all fours. You gasped as he pushed your knees together, then he slammed his cock inside you, the angle hitting a spot that made you see stars, his other hand wrapping the tie around his fist. He used the leverage to pound into you, the bed slamming against the wall, and the sounds of his groans making you clench around him.

"Elijah," you moaned his name, your hands fisting the sheets, you were almost there, you were so close to sweet release.

You knew this game very well and you played along perfectly, whimpering and mewling as his cock stroked every inch of you. Your sweet sounds fueling him as he continued to ravage your soft cunt. 

"Such an insufferable tease." He groaned. He let go of the tie and tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing your head down into the mattress.

He was completely lost in the moment, his control completely shattered. Your words, and actions, had snapped the reins, and he was letting himself go, to his deepest, most primal, instincts. He gave your hair a hard tug, the way you liked, and your back arched involuntarily, causing him to pound into you even harder.

"That's right, beautiful wife," he cooed. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"

You nodded, unable to form any words, your brain overwhelmed by the sensations. You could hardly breathe, your mind a clouded mess. He pulled you up, holding you by the jaw and pressing his fingers into your mouth, making you gag.

"Beg me," he snarled. "Beg me to let you cum."

You tried to form the words, but he was holding you so tightly, his cock thrusting into you so roughly, that all you could do was moan. Your eyes rolled back in your head, drool dribbling out of your mouth, the sounds of your garbled speech muffled by his fingers.

"That's it," he whispered, his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

His voice broke through the fog, and the moment his permission was given, you felt your body convulse, the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, sending you into an orgasm that was so powerful it made your limbs go numb. You collapsed forward, but Elijah held you upright. Your muscles had given out, the pleasure was so overwhelming that you couldn't even muster the energy to keep yourself propped up. All you could do was moan softly and let him continue to fuck you senseless.

He pulled his hand away from your mouth and grabbed your hips, pulling them back into his thrusts, using your spent body for his own pleasure. He was close, his movements becoming erratic, his hips snapping, his nails digging into your skin.

He let out a long, low, groan as his cock throbbed, filling you with his warm cum. He thrust a few more times, emptying himself inside you, and then slowly pulled out, letting you fall on to the bed. 

He leaned over you, gently removing the tie and kissing along your spine, his hands softly rubbing the marks he had left on your body.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his tone soft.

"I'm ok" you sighed. "But my ass is not happy with you."

Elijah chucked and propped your hips up a little, licking a stripe from the cleft of your ass, all the way up to the back of your neck. You shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin, you felt his hands on your hips and he quickly turned you over, making you squeak in surprise.

He kissed his way down your body, stopping to worship each of your breasts, and then moving down to your pussy. He spread your legs and ran his tongue over your slit, collecting his own cum that had begun to trickle out of you.

"Eli," you whined.

He hummed in response, and his tongue pushed deeper, lapping at your cunt, swirling around your sensitive clit. He was being gentle, his tongue teasing, his fingers rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hips.

You were perfect, his angel, his darling, his beautiful wife, and he had been so rough with you, he couldn't help but try and make up for it. He knew that you could take him, that you loved the rough sex as much as he did, but still, he always felt bad afterwards.

He could never stay rough for too long and tended to give into your soft whining, caresses and sweet kisses. It was why you were his wife, no one had the sort of power over him the way you did, and you both knew it. And there was truly nowhere else he would rather be, then between your legs.

He loved the feeling of your hands tugging on his hair, the way your thighs shook around his head, the way you clenched around his tongue, the sounds of your soft moans and whimpers. It was music to his ears, and he couldn't get enough of it.

"We taste like a dream," he murmured, licking his lips.

You chuckled, and then gasped when his tongue flicked over your clit, making your legs spasm.

"So sensitive," he purred, and then sucked the little bud between his lips, his fingers digging into your skin.

He could feel the pull of your hand, and he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, the pupils blown wide. He crawled over your body, and lowered his lips to yours, kissing you deeply.

You moaned softly, tasting the two of you together, and he groaned in response, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling at the strands.

"That's what we taste like, baby," he growled, his tongue plunging into your mouth. His lips wet and messy, his hands roaming over your body, his hips grinding against yours.

"It's so good, isn't it?"

"Yes," you gasped.

"I love it when you're covered in my cum," he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. "When your pretty little pussy is full of me, when I can smell myself all over you."

You bit your bottom lip, and let your eyes slide closed, taking in the scent of his skin, the feel of his lips, the way he was rocking against you. He was teasing you, and you wanted it, you wanted his cock to stretch and fill you again and again until you were delirious with pleasure. You'd never known someone who could turn you into this wreck so completely and efficiently, but here you were again.

"Stop talking," you whimpered, grabbing hold of his hair.

"Sorry baby." He mumbled against your throat, leaving open mouth kisses along your skin. "Are you ready for me to fuck you again, my gorgeous wife."

"Yes, fuck yes.." You moaned as you lifted your hips and wrapped your legs around him. He slowly pushed his cock back into your pussy, watching as you arched and moaned under him.

"Do you think I can fuck you till dawn?" He purred, pressing soft kisses against your neck. "You'd like that, wouldn't you baby, to be filled up all night?"

You hummed in response and he slowed down a bit, giving you deep, long slow strokes, taking his time, and enjoying the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He loved watching you come undone, to hear the moans and whimpers of delight fall from your lips, to know that it was because of him and only him.

This time he would make love to his wife, for however long she wanted, until morning if necessary. Because how could he not? When every look, every breath and every sound was the manifestation of a desperate plea, how was a husband to deny such a desire from a woman as beautiful, as delicate and yet as stubborn and as irresistible as you.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie

[intoanotherworld23]

Do Not Disturb

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, there is loads of sex in this so you have been warned, sex in a dressing room, minor spanking, dirty talk, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Summary: Joel can’t keep his hands off of you even in a dressing room, and doesn’t like to be disturbed

Authors Note:Comment! Reblog! Heart! Your feedback is what helps me in this and to support us authors and our work so I appreciate you all! Tag list is open so please be sure to let me know if you want to be added! Thanks you everyone so much! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

"Be quiet sweetheart." Joel leaning forward as he whispered in your ear. "Don't want anyone to hear us now do we?"

Not saying a word just a whimper in response afraid instead you'd let out a pathetic moan, and all the women in the store would hear, and you two would be in a lot of trouble. Since sex in the changing rooms of clothing departments was pretty frowned upon.

Joel couldn't keep his hands off you as soon as he saw you change into a new set of bra and panties. Wasting no time in bending you over your hands pressed against the wall the mirror right in front so you could watch what he was doing.

It was such a turn on though to know at any moment someone might hear or possible even walk in. The thing about Joel is though once he has started something he won't stop until he finishes.

"That's a good girl." He praised a hand snaking up your spine as he gripped the back of your neck.

Giving himself even more leverage and more power. His other hand had a hold of your hip so he could pull you back to meet his thrusting. He wanted to keep the pace, and he wanted to be in complete control over you.

His pelvis hitting yours every time making your move slightly forward. Your skin sticking to his making a smacking sound that surely someone was going to hear. Joel licking his lips as he looked down watching your cheeks jiggling every time he pushed into you.

"Been wanting this pussy all day." Smacking your cheek leaving a sting behind. "Nobody can fuck this pussy like me."

He was very accurate on that part. Joel was always able to fill you to the brim, but it felt like he was stretching you out every time. Knowing exactly how to use your body, and which buttons to push.

Joel could melt inside of your body, and wanted a taste every waking moment. It was something about you that made him insatiable. He was almost like a feral animal being driven by your mere presence.

"Joel." Hearing that crack in your voice as you closed your eyes.

"Shhh baby what did I say?" He chuckled at how desperate you were right now. "You've gotta be quiet."

Seeing no other option the hand that was keeping grip on your neck had moved more until it was in front of your mouth. Muffling your little moans and whimpers. Smelling the hand wash that he had used earlier wafting up into your nostrils.

Pulling the straps of the bra down just enough to wear your breasts could pop out. Feeling the lumps of flesh swinging back and forth. Joel was quick to grab one of them in his hand as he squeezed your nipple between the tips of his finger.

"I could touch you all day." Snapping his hips softly so he was pressed tightly against you keeping still. "Such soft beautiful skin."

Keeping the same hand pressed on your breast as he continued his movements. Not once missing a beat. Sometimes you really were amazed how he could move his body like he did.

Now there was a burning sensation radiating from your spine all the way down to your calves. Adjusting your position just slightly in hopes it would ease that pain. Joel could see what you were doing and just smirked.

"I know I know it hurts." Kissing your shoulder in comfort. "This'll help."

Feeling the hand pressed against your mouth now hovering over your raw core. Straightening his fingers out as he started slow circles against your clit. Loving how wet you were, and hearing the sounds of your slickness was like music to his ears.

"God you are just dripping." His eyes glued to your face.

Mouth hanging wide open panting like a wild dog in the heat. Struggling to keep your eyes open as you kept your glance to the floor. Joel noticed this and clearly wasn't a fan of how shy you were becoming.

"Look at me baby." He spoke up as you raised your head to look at him. "That's such a good girl for me now keep your eyes on us."

His pupils were dilated and blown out from pure bliss. His cheeks were a light pink color like he was blushing or he had just ran a marathon. Noticing a drop of sweat had slid down his forehead, and onto your hot back. The coolness lasting for a couple seconds.

Keeping in rhythm between the motions of his fingers to his cock slamming into you. It was almost becoming too much as you could feel that pressure building between your legs. You would only be able to last for so long.

"Joel I'm so close." Crying with a busted tone, but before he could respond someone knocked on the door.

"Is everything alright in there?" The woman asked.

Both you and Joel looked to each other your eyes wide open afraid to talk in case you moaned instead. Especially since Joel was still moving inside of you, and didn't plan on stopping.

Biting your bottom lip so hard you about drew blood. Joel wasn't helping in the least bit when he bent his knees and pushed in a new angle making you gasp. Looking at Joel through the mirror with a scowl, but he just grinned.

"Ma'am?" She asked again this time a little concerned.

“Get rid of her.” Joel nibbling on your ear begging you to make her go away so soon as possible.

"Y-yes." Trying your hardest to sound normal. "I'm alright. I'm just having some cramps."

That was the only thing you could think of to say at the time. Joel tried to control himself and not burst out laughing. The woman on the other hands though was a little suspicious about what was going on.

"Okay let me know if you need anything." Hearing her footsteps depart Joel grabbed your hips standing you up straight, and turned you around to face him.

"Lay down for me." Not wasting a second laying on the weirdly hall leather bench that was just big enough for you to lay on.

Grabbing your legs pushing them wider and higher up as he grabbed the base of his cock pushing slowly inside of you again. He knew you would still be sensitive, and didn't want to hurt you.

Pushing in and out noticing a creamy colored looking string on his cock. The image of this had Joel growling not thinking it would drive him wild like it did. He needed you to cum and cum quickly.

"I know you wanna cum so badly sweetheart." His fingers connected to your bundle of nerves once again. "You need to cum for me."

Joel was so close and he wasn't going to last any longer. Which is why he was pushing your to your orgasm so he could release himself as well.

Looking down between your bodies in admiration as he would disappear inside of you. His pubic hair prickling against your skin making you feel tickled.

"I'm gonna cum." Hands gripping the sides of the bench.

"I'm right there baby." He panted out of breath.

That was all you needed to hear to send you spiraling. Toes curling in the air as your legs shook with your orgasm smacking you in the face. Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as Joel kept his eyes focused on you the whole time.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Groaning as his cock twitched spilling his own seed inside of you just seconds later.

Your body had felt like a cooked noodle. Arms laying still beside you your legs feeling incredible heavy. Joel gripped your knees as he tried to keep himself upright.

"Shit I really needed that." He chuckled as his fingers massaged your skin soothingly.

"I think we both did." Joel leaning forward to give you a tender passionate kiss.

Then another knock came on the door interrupting both you and Joel's intimate moment. Both your heads pointing towards the direction of the sound. Preparing yourselves for what was about to be said.

"Customers are complaining about the noises coming from this dressing room." Her voice timid as she spoke, but all you and Joel could do was burst into a fit of laughter.

[writingstoraes]

hearty meals 🍳

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!chef!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: randomly got this idea so decided to do this first lolol lmk what u guys think! also this takes me back to charles cooking pasta and him saying it's still hard 😭

about: the dynamics of a really good chef and charles, who's well-known for being amazingly great at cooking.

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 1,560,394 others

charles_leclerc Sent out dinner invitations thinking only half would accept, here we are in complete attendance 😆 Kidding, it was nice to be with these people for a night!

Props to my amazing girlfriend for preparing the entire meal, from appetizers to dessert and even everyone's round two's. Sorry I'm not of more help, amour 😅

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly No one asked you to host dinner 🤨

charles_leclerc Be glad you got an invitation carlossainz55 Shouldn't have sent him one mate pierregasly I will come for you, Carlos

sainzlover i am once again going feral over 20 men who go broom broom this is so on brand of me

yourusername i'm sorry too actually

charles_leclerc Baby what yourusername i'm kidding, i love you 😘

lewishamilton Thanks for hosting, Y/N and Charles!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 342,103 others

yourusername cooked dinner for like 20+ hungry drivers last night 🍷 totally wiped out but i had such a good time! kudos to charles for being able to chop some parsley last night - he did a mega job :)

landonorris Sorry what were you saying I'm still in a food coma

danielriciardo Loved the food, Y/N! Glad you anticipated I'd be going for round three 😊

yourusername let me know how heidi likes the food i packed for her hahaha heidiberger LOVED it please always cook for us 🙏

carlossainz55 How hard can chopping parsley be

yourusername well it took your teammate a solid 20 minutes so you tell me 😆 charles_leclerc Please don't air out my culinary talents like this

sebastianvettel Thanks for cooking, Y/N! Loved the food a lot. You really exceeded Charles' description of your cooking, so please teach him 🙏

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, isahernaez, carlabrocker, and 209,239 others

yourusername charles and i made some of whatever this is last night 🍫

landonorris I don't believe in the "Charles and I" part

charles_leclerc That's literally the first two words? yourusername what's not to believe 😊

pierregasly Y/N come on come clean, you did that all by yourself

charles_leclerc I have flour on my face... pierregasly So? You're a mess in the kitchen, dude

sebastianvettel What exactly did Charles do?

yourusername sliced the strawberries and peeled the bananas.... landonorris LMAO KNEW IT carlossainz55 Laughing so hard this is the best day of my life

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, redbullracing, mercedesamgf1, and 674,293 others

scuderiaferrari A successful team dinner at Maranello all thanks to Chef Y/N and her team! All meals were truly exceptional and best believe everyone left well-fed and satisfied ❤️🧑‍🍳

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc My girl 🤍

yourusername thanks for the opportunity, ferrari! let me know when's the next one 🫡

arthurleclerc I hope Charles took home some of these

rarrigirl PLSSS WHAT ID GIVE TO EAT SOME OF Y/N's CREATIONS

culinaryenthusiast what can she not do omg she can bake too???

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

charles_leclerc recently added to his instagram story!

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, lorenzotl, and 1,842,294 others

charles_leclerc I am not the best cook so if anyone wonders what my participation is in the kitchen, nothing I just stare at the pretty chef and flirt with her every 10 minutes 😆

yourusername you sure are the best at that :]

charles_leclerc I know 😘

landonorris Is that in my kitchen....

yourusername oops landonorris You are so lucky you're my favorite chef

danielricciardo I miss Y/N's food when is the next dinner?

charles_leclerc Next year, probably pierregasly No? We're coming over on Friday

-----------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: tysm for reading <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: it's hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd drags you away as you hear the disgusted muttering of his parents. You try to tug free but he’s too strong. Even if he did let go, where would you go? Your ankles nearly bend in the heels as he urges you to the stairs and you stumble into his back. 

“Aw, baby,” he faces you, “don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll get there.” 

Before you can react, he scoops you up. You cry out, the dregs of your bile burn your throat. You make a face at the smell. He’s hardly bothered as he turns to continue up the staircase. 

“Damn, jelly bean,” he snarls as you feel his heart racing, “I knew you were a freak underneath it all. The way you just dug right in. Like an animal. Feral,” he snickers and kisses the top of your head as he gets to even ground, “we’re more alike than you know, aren’t we?” 

You gulp and say nothing. You’re disgusted as much by yourself as him. All that and for what? You’re still stuck with this madman. How on earth did he even notice you? By his parents’ suggestion, you’re far from his type. 

“Urgh, I don’t feel good,” you rub your stomach and wriggle in his grasp. It would be a good excuse to get away, or at least some space.  

“That’s alright, jelly bean, you let me take care of you,” he carries you breezily down the hall, his footsteps jaunty. You put your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself and his blue eyes flick down to the diamond ring, “fuck, that looks amazing on you. I’ll look just as good on you.” 

He laughs at his slimy joke but it only unsettles you. Even with barf on your breath and steak in your teeth, you can’t deter him. You’ve tried everything; ignoring him, waiting him out to the point of starvation, and making a fool of yourself. Your hope dwindles to a single strand, ready to snap. 

He takes you into the bedroom and through to the adjoining bathroom. The shining marble and gleaming golden accoutrements reflect the overhead light in a pristine sheen. He places you down on the counter so your legs dangle over the edge and he puts his hands on your shoulders. 

“Don’t take it to heart, bean, mom and dad are just like that. You’ll always be good enough for me,” he winks and shifts over to the sink.  

You watch him, helpless. You know better than to hop off in those heels and twist your ankle. He fills a clear cup with porcelain and wets a toothbrush before adding minty paste. He holds them out to you and you accept them wordlessly. The sparkle of the ring makes you wince. 

“I’m their son and they don’t really like me. Sometimes I wonder why they even had me...” he sighs and flicks the cup lightly with his finger. 

You put the brush in your mouth and scrub your teeth. It’s a good excuse not to reply. You don’t really get this man. He’ll kidnap a woman then spill his heart out like you care. Still, knowing how his parents are, you can piece together how he got to this point. 

“You get me, jelly bean. I know you got no parents and sometimes, I feel the same--” 

You choke and pull the brush from your mouth. You swig with the cup and lean over to spit into the sink. You sneer at him, a genuine wave of anger rising in you, “how do you know that?” 

Surprise washes over him at your reaction. He shrugs and hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “well, of course, I had to learn everything about you, honey. To take care of you. Tie up any loose ends hanging off of you--” 

“What the... you...” you scrunch your brow up and shake your head. You feel even sicker. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” 

“Stop?” He smirks, “stop what?” 

You sigh and put the brush back in your mouth. You scrape away the taste of vomit and rinse your mouth again. He takes the cup and brush and puts them aside for you. He comes back to stand in front of you. 

“Your special, bean. I gotta keep you safe. I mean, look how easy I just waltzed in, imagine what a really bad guy could do,” he frames your face with his hand, “just look at you...” he squeezes your jaw tightly so you can’t pull away, “so small and cute and... delicious. I bet you taste as sweet as a jelly bean, huh?” 

His other hand tickles your side and he steps closer, wiggling his way between your knees your legs splay wide. The skirt strains around your thighs as he grips your hip more firmly. He purrs and leans in, his nose tickling yours. 

You press on his chest, "your parents." 

"They can see themselves out, they always do," he slithers, "baby, I only need you." 

"Wait, I'm not-- I--" you babble as his hand slips down and his fingers curl under your ass to grope you, "Lloyd, please, we-- we aren't even married yet." 

He pauses, hovering before your lips and draws back. His mouth slants. 

"Are you an old-fashioned girl, huh? I shoulda known," he purrs, "well, I can get with that," he drops his hand from your chin, "we don't gotta go all the way." 

He brings both his hands to your hips and pulls you towards him. You fall back with the suddenness and barely catch yourself on your elbows. You squeal as he keeps your legs wide and yanks at your skirt. 

"Please, I'm not-- I'm not ready," you plead. 

"Don't worry, babe, I'll get you warmed up," he rasps as he shoves his hands up your dress, bending over you as he exposes your panties. 

"Ah, gosh," you sputter dumbly, writhing as he bows down to bury his nose against your underwear. He takes a big whiff and you exclaim, embarrassed. "Ayeee, Lloyd." 

"You smell like heaven," he lowers himself to his knees, "and I'm not a religious man, mind you." 

You clutch the edge of the counter as you slip down, propping one elbow as you fight the slipperiness of the satin. He nuzzles you, dragging his nose along the trim of your panties as his breath dampens your skin. He nips at you playfully and snarls. 

You squeal in surprise once more. The rippling sensation that radiates from his touch has you as off-kilter as your position. He feels along your thigh and hooks his hand around your other leg. He flutters his fingertips against your panties and tugs them to the side, a waft of cool air dancing over your bare lips. You wriggle again. 

"It's okay, baby, I'll be nice, just a little appetizer," he coaxes and swipes his tongue along your cunt. As you gasp, he rears back and does the same, "jelly bean, you lied to me. You are ready," he licks his lips and you look down at him, his lips already glistening. 

As he dives back in, you gulp and shut your eyes. You turn your head away as he spreads his tongue wide and laps you up. He rocks his head, tickling you deliberately with his mustache, humming into you. You whimper and slap a palm onto the marble counter top. 

He flicks up and down, swirling as you squirm and pant helplessly. As in all things, you can’t resist. Your head falls back against the mirror and you whine. How is he doing this to you? Why is he making you like this? You don’t like him, you don’t want him! 

He tilts his head all around, garbling into you hungrily as he smears your wetness all around his face. His shamelessness spikes your arousal, a new flame razing up your spine. You heave and reach down to latch onto his hair, tugging on it as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. 

You cry out, legs quivering against his face as you try to close them. He growls and snarls eagerly, devouring you as the pressure wells up to the brim. You huff and puff, curling your spine as you try to fight the pulsing in your core. No, no, no. It’s so intense you feel the tingle in your toes. 

Your voice grows louder as your spasm and the spring overflows. You feel yourself spill into your mouth. He hums again, laughing into you as he drinks up your orgasm. You throw your arm over your face, thoroughly ashamed of your desecration. 

You slide limply down, head tilted up against the mirror, as your legs open and hang loosely. Lloyd kisses your cunt before he pulls away, making a slurping sound as your eyes slit open. You can see the wetness in his mustache. He grins proudly and sighs. 

“Fuck, jelly bean, you’re just like candy,” his eyes drift back to your exposed cunt. 

You try to close your legs and he catches your knees. Holding them open. He tuts and pokes his tongue out, once more licking up the slickness around his lips. You cringe and push yourself up on your elbows. 

“You want me to wait for all that?” He growls, “damn, baby, you must be a sadist, making me hurt so much.” 

He traces his fingers up your thighs and pinches until you squeak. He clucks and reaches past you to the counter. He pulls himself to his feet and you see the bulge in his pants. He rubs his hand across the obvious outline and he shudders. 

“You don’t gotta do anything, just let me look at you while I play with it, how about it?” 

He doesn’t wait for your permission. In that moment, you can’t speak. Even if you could, you don’t even know what you would say. He unbuckles his belt and pushes down his zipper. He’s trembling as he frees himself, his swollen top poking out of his fly. He crumples the top of his pants as he shoves them down impatiently. 

“Show me your ass, I just wanna see it,” he grabs himself and groans, “ah, shit, please, jelly bean, I’m begging you. You want me back on my knees?” He kneels again, stroking himself slowly, “please, turn over, baby, promise I won’t touch.” He moans, “can’t you hear how much pain I’m in? For you?” 

You slide down, feet touching the cold tile. You flutter your lashes, legs shaking. You’re weak and senseless. You can’t look at him. You turn and he groans again. He sounds agonized. 

He chuffs out air as you hear him pumping himself. You hang your head, leaning on your arms as he pulls up your skirt. He whines as he reveals your bare ass around the slender string of the thong. You’re roiling in humiliation and something else. 

“Shit, shit, shit, baby, you are... immaculate,” he grits, “where-- where do you want me to come?” 

“Huh?” You utter. 

“Fuck, too late,” he lets out a roar, punctured by deep huffs, petering out to a pathetic panting that leaves him droning. 

You stay as you are, hiding as your heartbeat slows and the coil inside you loosens little by little. You pull your skirt down, skin scoured in shame, and face him. He sits on his knees still, head down as his dick twitch and slowly softens. You try not to look at it. 

He lifts his head to you, his cheeks flush and his hair askew. He looks around with his foggy eyes and chuckles, “well, it’s good we’re in here, huh? We can get cleaned up.” 

You just stare at him. You’re mortified. You can’t believe what he just did. To you. Then after. And you just laid there. You think... you think you had an orgasm. 

“Let me...” he begins and wobbles before he can plant a foot on the floor. He stands stiffly, not bothering to hide his dick. You ignore the way it flops.  

He turns and goes to the tub. The top of his ass peaks out of his crooked pants. He’s absolutely ridiculous. He the last kind of person you would ever associate with. Not that you talk to anyone, but he is not anyone you would dare to speak to. Yet he has made himself your personal pest. 

He bends over the large tub and cranks it on. You peek over at the door. How loud were you? Were his parents still there to hear you? You frown and raise a foot then lower it again. Your instinct to run fights with your logic. You know you won’t get far, not on jelly legs and not from him. 

The water spills out and he stands, backing away as he rubs his lower back. He strips off his jacket and rolls his shoulders. He turns back and lays it across the other end of the counter. He unbuttons his shirt and looks over at you. 

“Come on, jelly bean, unless you like a bit of zest, I don’t mind it,” he pokes his tongue out at you, “extra flavour and all. 

You let your disgust singe through and curl your lip. He laughs. He drops his shirt and nears. He turns you to face him as your skirt drapes back over your legs. He guides the straps down your shoulders. He shimmies the sheath down your body, his fingers grazing your skin cloyingly. You shiver as bumps raise on your skin. 

“You been hiding, jelly bean, well I’m about to bring you right out of that shell,” he smirks, “if there’s one thing to know about Lloyd Hansen, there’s no walls that can keep him out. I’m gonna tear yours right down.” 

[stardustrebels]

Fathoms Beyond- Chapter 1: Full Fathom Five

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader Rating: 18+ / MDNI WC: 3.5k Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Next Chapter

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, tension, slow burn, hurt/comfort, post-season 2 (The Mandalorian), canon-divergent, razor crest never gets destroyed but Din does have the Darksaber. Mild language, emotional/ mental health issues, guilt, depression and trauma. No use of y/n, minimal physical descriptions of reader— she has hair that she can braid. 

A/N: This is a follow-on fic from Fathoms Between (my Din x f!reader angsty WTTS entry). That story broke my heart a little, and I’m bringing these two back for closure. For me. For them. For everyone! This will be a HEA, but man, it’ll take a while to get there, so strap in— it’s gonna be a bumpy ride! If you’re here and you’re reading this, thank you from the bottom of my heart, it really means a lot. I hope you enjoy!

Divider credit: @saradika-graphics

The trading post on Vath was a scab on the planet’s surface— filthy, sprawling, and thick with the stench of sweat and rot. What little daylight broke through the clouds was swallowed by the rust flaking from the towers clawing toward the sky. Nobody here was a native. Travellers weaved through traders hawking wares, each one adrift. Like animals too wilded to have a flock, too feral to be herded. None more so than the Mandalorian. 

His steps were cautious as he stalked the outskirts of the throng, hidden behind ragged market stall canopies and stretches of overgrown foliage, the stems twisting from the ground gnarled and knotted. He walked as if the armour held him together more than his own bones. If anyone had dared to look closely, they would have seen a broken man. 

An apostate. 

The word stung like a wound that wouldn’t close. The Creed had been stripped from him with nothing but words, but they might as well have ripped his armour from him and cleaved him in two. He was a pretender, a man without a face and now little reason to hide it other than shame and habit. He’d told himself that there were places he could go where old words and choices meant nothing to anyone but him. He could rebuild, re-group. Find a way to make a life that was better than before. But he felt the weight of his beskar more every day, along with the ache of a waning sense of purpose. 

He hadn’t realised just how much of it had been tied to Grogu. And now— without him— the galaxy felt emptier. A stretch of dust-choked worlds like this one, one job bleeding in to the next. His only ambition now was to scrape enough credits together to keep the Razor Crest running and to make sure he could take care of the kid. To be able to still offer him a home if he ever came back. 

And if he didn’t—

Din pushed the thought away, clenching his fists until the leather strained. Dwelling on what he couldn’t change never got him anywhere. All he could do was what he did best. Find the bounty. Finish the job. 

He scanned the crowd from behind his visor— picking out those eyeing up his beskar like they hadn’t decided yet whether it was worth the trouble of trying to steal. His latest target was part of some local gang, wanted for a myriad of crimes by a substantial number of people. 

He reached for the fob at his waist. A tap, and the signal blinked to life, red light stuttering through the haze. He turned, about to step out and follow the ping when he heard it— laughter. Bright, unfettered, and achingly familiar. 

Din’s blood ran cold. The fob in his hand shook and his helmet turned toward the sound before he could even think. A compulsion. A pull like gravity. 

He scanned the crowd, every detail suddenly sharper than he thought was possible, the world narrowing through the HUD. And then he saw you. 

Through the press of bodies and the shifting dust, standing at a weapons stall, smiling. The same smile he remembered— quick, unguarded— but it sat differently on your face. You looked altogether sharper. Your posture was drawn tight, shoulders squared. Your clothes were well-kept, and you were armed, more than you ever used to be. Twin blasters at your hips, a knife strapped to your thigh, no doubt another in your boot. You looked stronger than before. Healthier. Alive. 

You’d survived, despite everything, and whatever had happened next had brought you here. For a moment, he just stood there, dumbstruck. Blinking, like he could clear the sight of you from his vision. The crowd swelled and ebbed around you, the flow of bodies making your image flicker in and out of view like something conjured by his guilt, but you were solid and real, leaning over the weapons stall to inspect something the merchant was holding up for you. 

A man approached you— broad-shouldered and rough-cut. You greeted him with a smile and he gave you a look that bordered on admiration. 

The sight made something in Din’s chest twist.

You’d found camaraderie, perhaps more. A family, maybe. Something more than he had.

A clan of your own.

The realisation crawled beneath his skin, itchy and sharp. The latest in a long line of uncomfortable emotions he’d recently been forced to face. 

The man leaned in and murmured something that wiped the smile from your face. Din’s attention sharpened. His visor fixed on you, its scanning capabilities straining to pick up details. His hand drifted to the side of his helmet, activating the audio receptor. The signal faded in and out as it honed in, sifting through the ambient noise until the conversation broke through. 

“…I figured he might be with you,” the man said, his eyes narrowing as his easy smile disappeared. 

“We spoke yesterday,” you replied after a shake of the head. Din’s breath only caught a little when your voice reached his ears. “But I haven’t heard from him since. Didn’t he tell you he was chasing another buyer before circling back? You know how he gets when he’s close to locking something down.” 

When the man didn’t reply you shrugged and fixed him with a look. “If he was in trouble, Ramus, don’t you think you’d be the first to know? He’d never contact me before his second-in-command.” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

The man—Ramus— scoffed and shifted his weight. “Something feels off,” he muttered. “There’s been no word. No ping, no comms. It’s making the others jumpy.” 

You gave the man a tight smile and turned to him then, leaning back against the stall. The move looked relaxed, but Din saw the tension in it, even from a distance — the way your posture straightened and your fingers curled and tightened around the metal lip of the stall tabletop. 

“The others are always jumpy,” you said with a smirk. “There’s no need to overreact. He’s not missing, he’s just running late.”

Ramus stayed quiet, scanning your face for any hint of doubt. You looked up at him, and rolled your eyes at his expression. “You’re acting like it’s never happened before.” You said with a breathy laugh. 

“This feels different,” Ramus replied. 

You shook your head defiantly. “He’s fine,” you said, too quickly, before you caught yourself. 

Din didn’t miss the way your voice cracked as you said it. You turned away from Ramus and back to the weapons on the stall. “Jarek’s always fine.” 

The name hit Din like a strike to the chest plate. Jarek. 

It was the same name as the bounty he’d been hunting through five systems and three false leads. Every whisper Din had followed about this man had led him here. To this. To the unbelievable re-appearance of you and the possibility of his bounty on a silver platter. You hadn’t found a clan, he realised bitterly. You’d ended up a member of a gang led by a wanted criminal.

He felt something within himself pull taut— His instinct washing back over him, refocussing his attention. It smothered the ache of seeing you and he welcomed it. He was razor sharp now that he had a lead. He could work through his feelings later.

Ramus disappeared in to the crowd after a mumbled goodbye. You watched him go, jaw tight. 

“Dank farrik,” you muttered, already reaching for your comlink. 

You ducked your head, shielding the device as you called Jarek’s frequency. Static. You tried again— still nothing. No reply. Just dead air where his voice should have been. 

Your guts twisted. 

You moved fast, winding your way out of the market lanes and back toward the edge of the trading post where the junker yard loomed— a graveyard of forgotten ships, a jagged blot on the already horrid landscape.

The workshop was tucked behind the shell of a gutted freighter, half-collapsed under its own weight. You keyed in your access code and the metal door stuttered open with a hiss. You let it close and lock behind you, leaning against it while you took a moment to breathe. 

It was quiet inside other than the hum of cooling units and the occasional groan of shifting scrap outside. It was familiar. Safe. 

You slid in to the stool at the workbench, sweeping tools and parts aside to access the embedded terminal. You brought up the locator protocols with quick, practiced motions and scrolled through the options— linked devices, known frequencies, encrypted paths. 

Jarek’s ID wasn’t there. 

You tried again. Manually. You knew the string of numbers by heart, burned in to your brain from years of running ops together. 

Still nothing. The ping was dark. Shut off.

You blinked down at the screen and your stomach dropped. Jarek’s encrypted location had never been shut off. You had one too, and no one else knew the codes other than the two of you. You always kept the ping on. It was rule number one. 

Your heart was thudding now. It wasn’t a coincidence, and it sure as hell wasn’t an accident. There was no other way it would have happened—Jarek had turned his location ping off deliberately. 

You leaned back in the chair, exhaling through your nose, trying to fight the panic creeping up your spine. Think. Think.

You could tell the others. Say he’d gone dark on purpose. But you weren’t sure how they’d take it— especially the ones who still didn’t fully trust him. Ramus would probably be fine. He might even try to help you, he wasn’t Jarek’s second for nothing. But some of the others? Jarek hadn’t been leader long enough for them not to turn on him. Or you by association.

You dragged a hand down your face, cursing again under your breath. This meant that there was really only one option left, and you hated it. 

Tetherline protocol. The rendezvous point. 

The one he’d made you promise never to mention. Not to the others. Not even to Ramus. If Jarek really was in trouble, that’s where he’d go. You never thought it would have come to that.

You took a breath and shook out your arms, trying to shrug residual jitters before you worked through the stages of the plan. You recited the steps to yourself methodically, just as you had so many times across so many plants over the years, ever since you’d met Jarek on Lothal. You’d never had to initiate it before. 

Gather the gear, secure the comms, wipe the tech. 

Easy enough, you’d always thought, hypothetically. Facing the reality of it made your stomach twist. You looked around the small workshop. It had started to feel like somewhere you could have settled. A cramped space surrounded by scarred durasteel, sleeping on a cot where you spent your days fixing tech to sell. You hadn’t realised until now how achingly similar it was to a life you’d had before. Another life you had left behind. You hadn’t had a choice then. Although, you thought bitterly, staring down at the terminal where Jarek’s location ping should have been, you didn’t really have a choice now either. 

You stood and crossed the workshop, crouching beside the small footlocker tucked beneath your cot. The hinges creaked as it opened, the sound sharp in the quiet. You pulled out your pack, laying it open on the cot before you began gathering what you’d need. Clothes first— a couple of spare shirts, pants and underwear: the basics. You packed in the jumpsuit you wore while you were working next, taking it from the hook by the door. You rolled it up and patted it fondly before shoving a med kit next to it— compact but stocked, just in case. Rations, water tabs and an old encrypted data pad came next, wiped and reset to factory protocols. You stuffed everything down and buckled the flap closed. 

Weapons next: you stripped down your blasters to do a quick field check. Power cells fully charged, no carbon scoring, grips solid. You re-holstered them at your hips and made sure the blade at your thigh was secure, as well as the one hidden in your boot. 

The shelves where you kept the comms were behind your workbench. The receivers and transmitters were all neatly tagged, organised by range. You took only what you needed— short range, single-channel, narrowband frequency. Harder to trace. You twisted the comlink in your hand before slipping it in to your jacket pocket, the strap already keyed to your encryption. 

Then you crouched by the bench and reached beneath it, fingers finding the loose panel you’d slotted in to the underside years ago. You pried it open and pulled out a small, flat chip encased in cast-plast— dull grey, nearly weightless.

It didn’t look like much, but the data stick held your entire savings. A secured link to an encrypted amount of credits routed through three outer rim banking droids and buried so deep in old InterGalactic banking code that even slicers would struggle to sniff it out. Something that Jarek had taught you— hide everything. Trust nothing. 

You slid the chip in to a pouch at your belt, sealing it tight. 

If this really was a run, you’d need every credit you could get. 

Next was the tech. 

You moved back to the terminal, not bothering to sit on the stool, and brought up the system logs. You wiped them. All of them. No traces, no coordinates, no call signs. Even the search you’d made for Jarek’s ping— gone. When you were done, you shut the system down completely and pulled the auxiliary power line from the wall. Let anyone else try to boot it up. They’d find nothing. 

Your eyes swept the workshop one last time, over the pile of broken tech by the door, the jacket with the hole burned in to the sleeve that you’d always meant to mend, the dent in the corner of the workbench where you’d slammed a hydrospanner during one particularly bad morning. 

It felt strange, knowing you might never see this place again. 

You shouldered your pack and clicked off the main light. The soft red emergency glow illuminated the space just enough to guide your way to the hatch. You paused there, fingers hovering over the panel and took a deep breath. 

You weren’t sure what was going on, but if Jarek was going to go down, you were going to make sure he didn’t go down alone. 

You keyed the lock and slipped out into the fading daylight. 

The air was cooler now than it had been earlier, the heat bleeding away with the sun— its rays failing to break through the haze and cloud as it edged close to the horizon. You slipped past the perimeter wall and crossed the ridge line where the terrain changed. 

This zone was a scar. 

Twisted metal and splintered duracrete poked from the earth like broken teeth. An old Imperial facility— or what was left of it— lay sprawled ahead in jagged, corroded ruins across the valley below. You stepped through the remnants of old barricades and past watchtowers, now long collapsed and half-swallowed by time and nature. There was nothing of value here, it had either been picked through or broken by vandals, hell-bent on taking out their frustration on the Empire with whatever weapon they could get their hands on. Some of the structures beyond still stood tall enough to cast long, skeletal silhouettes against the amber-stained sky. 

The silence here was uncanny. Even the wind felt reluctant to disturb the ghosts. 

This place used to be an auxiliary depot, if memory served. Jarek had told you once, back when you’d first set foot on Vath, about how the Imps had pulled out of this side of the planet in a hurry, their retreat sloppy and panicked after a well-placed rebel strike. The pride in his voice had made you tear up at the time, now the memory of it only served to drive you forward. 

Your boots crunched over brittle ground as you walked, weaving through the fields of debris. Thick cables snaked over the ground like veins. You passed by a busted TIE wing half-buried in rock where it had crashed, the viewport shattered and blackened by fire. A faded Imperial cog still clung to its hull. You didn’t look at it. You didn’t need to. You’d seen enough of them in your time. 

You passed more of them on the way— plastered over anything able to be branded. They lingered in your peripheral and made the air feel heavy. You wondered, as you often did, how many other people still carried the weight of the war on their backs, like you did. You adjusted your grip on your pack and kept moving. The rendezvous spot wasn’t far. 

It had taken you and Jarek three weeks to find it back when you’d followed him here— a transport hangar, accessible only after you’d cleared the piles of rubble. You’d turned it in to a bolt-hole that no one else knew about. Stashed a ship here. It was a place to vanish to— to get away, if it ever came to that. 

You’d joked at the time that it was your own private war bunker. He hadn’t laughed. 

You slid down the edge of a broken embankment and landed lightly, soft dust puffing around your boots. The entry point was ahead— the opening jutting out of the landscape like a gaping maw, crates scattered around it like tiny islands among the dust. You scanned the hangar— there was no sign of life. The ship wasn’t powered up and nothing had been moved. Jarek wasn’t here. 

The realisation hit you like a blaster bolt. It was the first time you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that something had happened to him. You sat on the edge of a crate and rubbed your eyes. 

You reached in to your pocket, pulled out the short-range receiver and flicked it on. It was already tuned to the channel you needed. 

“Jarek, it’s me. I’ve initiated Tetherline protocol. Nothing on the ping. Call me back when you get this.” You hesitated before releasing the transmission. Then added, softer. “I hope you’re okay.”

You ended the call and waited. 

Nothing. 

You set the receiver down, leaned back and stared at the sky. Time passed. Slowly. The light faded through the last amber hues of daylight and in to the inky depths of dusk, plunging the hangar in to cold and shadow. 

Your leg bounced restlessly as you scanned the perimeter. You reached for one of the ration bars in your pack and forced yourself to chew, but it tasted like ash. You stood and began to pace. You checked the perimeter, then the comlink again. Still nothing. 

You didn’t know how long you’d wait. A couple of hours? All night? A few days?

What came after? Where would you even go?

You hadn’t thought that far ahead when you’d left the workshop. Tetherline protocol had always relied on Jarek meeting you here— he’d never allowed any discussion on the possibility of the contrary. 

You let your thoughts wander. They drifted to Lothal. To the first time you’d met Jarek. To everything that had come after. To all the ways you’d come to trust him more than anyone. 

He’d been cocky back then. He had a reckless grin and a stupid sense of humour, and he’d offered you a spot on his salvaging crew before you’d even worked up the courage to ask him. You worked on low-end jobs for a contractor that barely paid, picking clean the bones of an old Imperial installation outside Capital City. You’d hated him at first. He was too loud. Too charming. Too quick to call you Starshine. 

But then, two weeks in, you’d seen him jump in to a burning wreck to pull a kid out after a fuel line had ignited during a job. He’d run in with zero hesitation while everyone else panicked about what to do.

He earned your respect one fire, one bad job, one near-death experience at a time. And somewhere between pulling rusted panels from a wrecked star destroyer hull and racing speeders in to the city to blow off steam, he’d earned your loyalty too. 

And now he was gone. 

Maybe not forever,  but the longer it took for him to show, the panic twisting in your gut grew harder to ignore. You reached for your blaster without really thinking. Nothing had changed— you couldn’t see anything approaching, but the hair at the back of your neck stood on end. It was a feeling you hoped you’d never feel again.

You were being watched. 

Next Chapter

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay...but here it is...

Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot

Part II (of IV)

Part I here! | AO3 link here! | Spotify playlist!

Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You

Word count: 3,800+

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.

Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.

Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.

Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend @eli-rx for their contribution and ideas!

Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)

Taglist!: @themorriganisamonster @notsostrangerthing @witcherfilms @inthiseverymoment

Following the performance of the night, everyone in the Coven came backstage to officially welcome Y/N into the Theatre des Vampires. As she joined them in the middle of the room, Y/N was pleasantly nervous, not only because all of this was foreign to her, but also because she was reeling from her encounter with Lestat the night before. Never in her life, before accepting the Dark Gift or since, has she ever felt so enraptured and enamored by anyone as much as Lestat.  He watched her with a sly smile on his face as she sat down in the chair in the middle of the room, and she looked at him with a rosy glow on her cheeks as she beamed back at him.

Look at you…you’re glowing, ma chérie. Absolutely stunning… Y/N heard Lestat’s sensual voice in her mind, and it made her head swim. He winked at her as he moved to stand behind her in her chair. As the rest of the Coven formed a tight circle around Y/N, Armand moved to stand on her left, a large book bound in red leather in his arms. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Y/N, before we begin, we have something we would like to give you,” Armand said, his voice proud but his hesitation still evident. Armand turned to the beautiful blonde vampire behind her. “Lestat, I believe it is you who would like to have the honor? It was your idea, after all.” Armand tried his best not to sound bitter.

The violinist Nicki leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and biting the inside of his cheek, trying to appear as neutral as possible despite being uncomfortable with the events of the past couple of nights. He didn’t have anything against Y/N; there was no reason to, he became numb to the way his former lover operates, and he only hoped that Y/N stayed happy—and safe—with Lestat by her side, should it come to that. But Nicki already knew better, Lestat had his sights set on Y/N, and there was nothing anyone could do to tear her away from him now.

“Of course, how could I forget?” Lestat said in his special syrupy and sultry way, gently caressing Y/N’s cheek before turning to walk over to his vanity in the corner of the room, a deep blush appearing on her face. Lestat opened the drawer and pulled out a gift wrapped in purple paper, shutting the drawer with his hip before walking back over to Y/N. He gently placed the present in her hands. “Thou art wise as thou art beautiful…isn’t that right, darling?” Lestat said, starting to blush himself. “Go on, mon amour, show us what it is.” Y/N, momentarily at a loss for words, smiled again as she gingerly freed the item from its wrapping. Once she realized what it was, her jaw dropped and red tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, she found herself able to speak again. In her hands was a gorgeous tome that housed the entire works of Shakespeare, bound in green leather with gilded edges.

“Oh…my God…it’s incredible…” Y/N said, blood tears starting to fall down her face. “Thank you all so much…” Y/N wiped her face. “Lestat…this was your idea?” Lestat nodded with a charming smile.

“Let’s just say I know more than you’re aware of, sweetheart,” Lestat said as he wiped a tear from her face and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “When I said you were lovely, chérie, it was not in jest. I meant it wholeheartedly.” Y/N swooned and blushed at his words.

“Thank you, Lestat. This is the most wonderful gift anyone could ever give me.” Y/N said lovingly.

“Oh love, believe me,” Lestat said. “This is only the beginning.” Sensing a change of tone in the air that he wasn’t keen on being present for, Armand spoke up to break up the growing sexual tension between the blonde charmer and his newest possible paramour.

“Alright, dear Y/N…it is time. Will you have us?” Armand said with a small genuine smile, his voice tinged with apprehension.

“Yes maître. I will,” Y/N said as she smiled back at the amber-eyed vampire to her right. “I’m ready.”

“Good then…let’s begin the initiation. Santiago will read you in.” Armand said, trying to sound more confident than he felt in his cold heart. Lestat once again took his position standing behind Y/N’s chair. Armand handed the red book to Santiago as he stood on Y/N’s left, opening it to a page with the title “The Great Commandments Which All Vampires Must Obey.” Santiago moved a bit closer to her and began to speak proudly.

“The Five Laws…law one,” Santiago said. “Each Coven must have its leader, and only he might order the working of the Dark Trick upon a mortal.” Y/N looked up at Santiago as he read her the rites, gasping quietly as she suddenly felt Lestat’s hands brush her hair off her neck and place his hands on her shoulders, holding her to the chair gently. “Will you abide?” Santiago continued, noticing Lestat’s gesture and smiling wickedly. Y/N nodded.

“I will,” Y/N replied, eyes widening as she began to feel the rest of her body begin to flush. Santiago smiled and continued.

“Law two: the Dark Gifts must never be given to the crippled, the maimed, to children, or to those who cannot, even with the Dark Powers, survive on their own,” Santiago continued. “Will you abide?” Armand stifled a small sigh as he looked on. After a few seconds, he placed his hand over Y/N’s heart.

“I will,” Y/N answered again, trembling slightly. Celeste moved in front of Y/N, while the others tightened the circle. Lestat, gripping Y/N’s shoulders only a bit tighter, offered his praise without moving his lips.

My my Y/N, you’re adapting wonderfully, mon ange. Very, very good, darling.

Santiago cleared his throat dramatically before carrying on with the initiation. “Law three,” Santiago resumed. “Never should an old vampire work this magic lest the blood of the fledgling be too strong, for all our gifts increase naturally with age, and the old ones have too much strength to pass on. Will you abide?” Y/N nodded once again.

“I will.” Y/N felt her breath becoming more uneven as she squirmed under Lestat and Armand’s hands. Celeste moved to place her hand over Y/N’s heart as well. Eglee, Estelle, Quang Pham, Gustav, and Sam moved in closer and followed suit. Y/N’s gaze briefly drifted to Nicki, who hesitated for a moment before he placed his hand on hers, offering a friendly but sad smile. Y/N smiled back.

Santiago flashed Y/N another smirk before he began again. “Law four: no vampire may ever destroy another vampire, except that the Coven Master has the power of life and death over all his flock. Will you abide?” Y/N swallowed hard as she shook her head.

“I will.” Y/N took a deep breath before letting it go.

Santiago spoke up again. “Law five,” he continued. Noticing the anxiety in Y/N’s movements but not sensing any hesitation of any kind from her, Santiago chuckled to himself before beginning again. “No vampire shall ever reveal his true nature, or ever reveal the history of the vampire to a mortal and let the mortal live.” Santiago paused as he shot Lestat a knowing look, fully aware of the hunger and want coursing through Lestat’s body as he held Y/N to the chair. Lestat did not break his concentration on Y/N for a second, his attention solely on her. Santiago rolled his eyes. “No vampire must commit to writing the history of the vampires, and a vampire’s name must never be known to mortals, save from his tombstone, and never must any vampire reveal to mortals the location of his or any other vampire’s lair. Will you abide?” Lestat let his fingers drag gently along Y/N’s collarbone, smiling slyly and giggling lowly under his breath as he felt her shiver. Y/N inhaled sharply.

“I will,” Y/N said, a little more breathlessly than she probably intended. She let her head fall back slightly before gingerly shaking her head, as if to shake the feeling off. The other vampires moved closer to her, preparing her for the final phase of the initiation. Santiago clapped the red leather book shut loudly before smiling at Y/N, placing his hand on her as well.

“An outsider no longer,” Santiago beamed. “Welcome to the Coven, little miss Y/N.”

Reluctantly, Armand motioned for Lestat to be the one to offer his blood to her first. Lestat moved one of his hands from her shoulders to her neck and gently tilted it back. He bit a significant gash into his forearm before lowering it to Y/N’s lips. She swallowed softly before gently holding onto his wrist.

“Good girl,” Lestat whispered as she pressed her lips to the dripping wound and eagerly lapped up the blood that oozed from it. “Tres bien fait, Y/N. You’re a natural, my love. Just as I knew you would be.” Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head as she drank his blood, the flavor of him sweeter than anything she had ever tasted. Lestat moaned softly at the sight, trying in vain to control his need for her. After a few moments, Lestat gently pulled his arm away, smiling as he watched a small trickle of blood fall from the corner of her mouth. He slowly wiped the blood away from her face with his thumb, letting his finger press against her lip and pull it down before letting it go. Never breaking eye contact with her, he took his bloody thumb into his mouth and licked the blood off. Y/N’s eyes widened as he smiled hungrily at her, her head beginning to swirl with love, hunger—and something else entirely. Armand, not at all surprised by Lestat’s bold display of sensuality towards Y/N, shook his head and bit his tongue to keep himself somewhat calm. Lestat stepped out of the way. Next was Celeste, who then offered Y/N her wrist, and she accepted her with gratitude.

“We’re happy to have you, Y/N. Welcome to the Theatre,” Celeste said with a proud smile.

With that, one by one, the other vampires offered their blood to Y/N, and she eagerly accepted each of them as they accepted her as one of their own, thanking them for the gifts they have given her.

After the rituals were over and Y/N was fully initiated into the Theatre des Vampires, she gasped lightly as she felt a soft but firm arm wrap around her waist from behind.

“You are nothing short of magnificent, love. Beautiful work, mon ange. Y/N, you were dazzling as always,” Lestat said with a sly smile. “I am still interested to hear more about you. What do you say we continue our little tête-à-tête from last night?” He smiled a bit wider as she turned to face him as she beamed back at him.

“Yes, Lestat. I’d love to,” Y/N swooned. “What would you like to know?” Lestat gently took her by the hand and led her to the corner of the room. Even as a mortal, no man had ever made her feel the way she did now…it was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

“Only whatever it is you’re willing to tell me, mon coeur. Anything and everything,” Lestat said with a charming smile as he brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. “I find you absolutely enthralling, Y/N.” He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, his fingers gently grazing her skin as he does so. She felt warmth spread across her face under his touch as she leaned into it. “I must say, I’ve been wanting to share a moment with you, ma belle,” he said as he sat down in the chair at the vanity. Lestat gently pulled Y/N onto his lap and wrapped one of his arms around her waist, while his other hand brushed some of her hair over her shoulder. Y/N felt her heart begin to pound against her ribs again as she settled herself in his tender but strong hold. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, chérie?” Y/N swallowed softly as she gazed at him.

“Well, I’m flattered, truly. I would love to get to know you better, too. You’ve all been very kind and helpful, and I feel very lucky.” Y/N said as she rested one of her hands on his shoulder to anchor herself to him. “I feel especially lucky to have shared the stage with you yesterday.” She giggled quietly as she took a deep breath before beginning again. “But I guess I’ve always loved everything about the theatre, ever since I was a little girl. I never really had the chance to explore or experiment with anything of the sort until I was turned.”

Lestat’s periwinkle gaze never strayed from Y/N’s vampire eyes as she spoke, his attention focused solely on her. He acknowledged her answer for a moment. “Ah, I see. I am sorry to hear that you haven’t been able to embrace your talents until you were Born to Darkness, but I would argue that might be one of the reasons some of us consider our nature to be an honor. You seem to be adjusting exceptionally, ma beauté. Please forgive me for asking, but who was it that bestowed the Dark Gift upon you?” Lestat gently ran his long fingers through her silken hair as he spoke to her, intently listening to her words. He was madly in love with this beautiful young vampire in his arms, and she had fallen just as hard for him. Y/N couldn’t imagine any other place she would rather be than in Lestat’s embrace. She blushed deeper as she answered his question honestly.

“Celeste is my maker. I’m still learning from her, Santiago, Armand, and the rest of the Coven…this is all very new to me.” Y/N caressed Lestat’s face and smiled. “I really am glad to be here.” Y/N gazed at Lestat, delighted to find a blush forming on his face as well. He smiled back at her as she continued. “Lestat…this is the most alive I’ve ever felt.”

“Oh, ma chérie …” Lestat traced the curve of her jaw with his hand as his voice dropped to a low and loving tone. “I want you to know that I am happy to see you bloom and flourish here with us…” He caressed her cheek and jaw with the back of his hand, maintaining eye contact with her. Lestat watched her blush and tremble slightly as he touched her, making mental notes of what she seemed to enjoy the most before he broke the brief pause. “…with me.” Y/N’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped slightly; a look Lestat came to know very well. She gulped silently.

“Do you really mean that, Lestat? I…I don’t know what to say…” Y/N, smiling, began to feel overwhelmed by his clear love for her, and it made her feel dizzy. Lestat was aware of this, and he held her closer to him, his grip on her hips tightening slightly, silently promising her he would catch her if she were to fall.

“You don’t have to say anything, mon amour. I meant every word. I have been entranced by you from the very second I laid my eyes upon you.” Lestat’s hand travelled down to find Y/N’s and tangled his fingers with hers. “You have me utterly spellbound, Y/N.”

Lestat hooked his thumb and forefinger under Y/N’s chin and gently moved her head so that their eyes were locked in each other’s gaze again. Slowly, Lestat leaned in closer as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled and blushed as she moved down to meet him, her eyes fluttering shut once their lips met. Lestat kissed her softly at first, taking his time with her. She kissed him back gingerly, allowing herself to savor everything he offered her.

As Lestat and Y/N shared their tender but increasingly intense kiss, someone was lurking across the room, only barely out of sight.

Santiago could not help himself. He stared at the two vampires at the vanity, so lost in the throes of their hungry passion that they weren’t aware that he was watching them, or for how long. Santiago ran his fingers through his slicked back bottle-blonde hair as he watched Lestat practically devour the new Coven member whole, smirking once he became aware that there was no holding back on Y/N’s end either. Y/N kissed Lestat back as if she would disappear into thin air if she stopped, and she knew well enough by now that Lestat would not let her go if she tried. Whatever Lestat gave her, she returned to him with equal vigor and thirst. Santiago could not decide if the sight unfolding in front of him thrilled him or sickened him. All he knew was that, for whatever reason, he needed to alert Armand. Is Y/N a threat to the Theatre? She doesn’t seem like it. Is she a victim? If she was, she wouldn’t be so quick to give herself to Lestat…right? What if she’s doing all of this of her own will? Santiago wasn’t sure, but he could not tear his eyes away from Y/N and Lestat’s hungry embrace, no matter how hard he tried.

Completely oblivious to Santiago’s spying—or, more likely, aware and unbothered—Lestat carried on with his discovery of Y/N’s mouth with his tongue, her ministrations matching his. Lestat’s hands made their way from the back of Y/N’s head and down her neck, dragging his fingers gently all the way down until he reached her hips. He gripped her and held her in his lap, not hard enough to hurt her but firmly enough to leave light handprints on her skin through her clothes. As Lestat moved his lips from hers to trail light kisses along her jawline, his hands found the hem of Y/N’s blouse and lifted it up slightly to let his fingers graze her skin beneath it, making her whimper softly and shiver under his touch. He let his long fingers dance along her sides and spine, up and down her ribs and chest, then back around again, his movements agonizingly measured. Immediately loving the effect he had on Y/N, Lestat chuckled lowly.

“Such beautiful sounds you make, mon ange,” Lestat whispered lowly between kisses. “I wonder how many more I can coax out of you…” his voice trailed off as his lips continued their exploration along Y/N’s jaw and neck, gently nipping at her collarbone before moving back up to capture her mouth in another searing kiss. Lestat helped her change her position in his lap, so that her thighs were around his waist, pulling her closer against him in the chair as he leaned back. He let his hands travel lower as he tightened his grip. Y/N showed her approval by moaning against his lips, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to stabilize herself. Lestat chuckled slyly again. “Shh, ma chérie…” Lestat whispered, his voice sultry. “Sois une gentille fille et tais-toi... tout le monde peut entendre...”

Y/N answered him breathlessly, completely caught up under Lestat’s spell. She knew some French but wasn’t fluent; she wasn’t entirely sure what Lestat said to her, but whatever it was sounded absolutely sinful. “What…? What did you say?” Lestat chuckled and smiled wickedly once more.

“Oh, my love…I said…” Lestat trailed off as he let his fangs softly scrape against the skin between her ear and her neck before speaking again. “Be a good girl and keep quiet…anyone can hear…” Lestat said, making Y/N gasp. “But it wouldn’t make any difference who hears us, now would it, darling?” Lestat’s words made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat before she whimpered a bit louder. Lestat let out a low growl. “I suspected as much, mon petit monstre.” Lestat bit her neck ever so gently, hard enough to cause a small bead of blood to drip down her neck. He quickly lapped it up and kissed her again before she could speak, making her yelp against his mouth and twitch in his arms.

Santiago was both so stunned and so morbidly entertained by this display of lustful longing that he nearly forgot his own mission. Maître…there has been an occurrence. A sort of…expected occurrence, shall we say? I have eyes on them now and…it seems it’s serious already. Very serious in fact.

Armand, also painfully aware of the steamy romance brewing between the Theatre’s founder and the Coven’s newest addition, answered Santiago with an annoyed snarl. I know, Santiago. Leave them be. There isn’t much we can do now. And don’t give Lestat the satisfaction…you know he revels in it. Don’t encourage him. He knows what he’s doing.

Santiago answered his master, deciding he should let these two vampires have their little moment. As much as he wanted to keep watching them, he knew that Lestat would catch on soon, if he hadn’t already. Yes maître. They’ll wear themselves out soon. Though I reckon it could be a while—

Armand winced and interrupted him. Enough, Santiago. Coffin, now.

As the two riled-up vampires explored their newfound love—and lust—for each other, Lestat broke the kiss softly, resting his forehead against hers, both trying to catch their breath and come back down to Earth. Lestat sighed and chuckled lightly.

“Mmm, mon petit chaton…you are insatiable,” Lestat breathed. “But it seems we’ve attracted some attention.” Y/N whimpered as Lestat felt her quiver in his arms, giggling as he held her harder, stopping her from falling backwards. She wrapped her arms around his neck tighter.

“We did…? Where…?” Y/N answered breathlessly, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Lestat smiled slyly.

“No need to concern yourself with that, my darling.” Lestat said, trailing soft kisses along her neck before moving to whisper into her ear. “What do you say we continue this tomorrow, hmm? I don’t want you thinking I’m anywhere finished with you yet…” Lestat growled. He gently patted her hips, signaling for her to stand up from his lap. He held her hand as she stood up, chuckling to himself as he watched her wobble as she stood. He stood up with her and held her hand. “Come on, my love,” Lestat said with a sly smile. “I’ll walk you to your coffin, you look tired. We’ll meet again here after rehearsal tomorrow, yes?” Y/N nodded and followed Lestat out of the room. She could have sworn she floated beside him, and Lestat knew that he was dangerously in love with her. He knew he had her in is clutches now, but he wanted to drag this out as long as he could.

[gravehags]

how to adopt and care for your ghouls

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT

Words: 1,966

Tags: established relationship, hijinks, fade to black (mostly) smut, ghouls doing ghoul shit, ghouls imprinting on reader like a bunch of feral kittens, copia going through it, hint at potential future uhhhh ghoulette/reader action maybe?

a/n: this is so stupid i'm obsessed with it

~~~

“That’s all the new ghouls settled in the den, then,” you announce, tired but accomplished. You shut the door with your hip and toe off your shoes before launching yourself into the arms of your beloved who is currently seated on the couch.

“Oof! Bene, bene, thank you for taking this on, amore. You know I could have had a sibling do this, si?”

“Yeah,” you say, wiggling your way under the blanket and looking at the TV, currently on mute and playing some reality show, “I suppose but I don’t know, this is a huge step you’re taking and I wanted to support you in any way I can. Almost like I love and cherish you and want your success, as wild as that may sound.”

“You…love me?!” he scoffs, reaching to the side and hauling you on top of him as you squeal inelegantly, “I see why you might. I am very handsome, and smart, and successful, and did you know I have a band, bella signorina?”

“No!” you gasp, “A band? You? You never mentioned that to me, not even once, not even a little bit. I just thought you were some hot weird priest and well, I have hierophilia, so naturally–”

He shuts you up by firmly pressing his lips against yours, both of you giggling in between kisses. When you pull away and push yourself off the couch, backing up towards the bedroom he follows, stalking you with a sinister grin.

“Hierophilia, eh?” he purrs as you bump into the doorway and lean against it, “Does this agnellino require penance for her sins?”

You take your lower lip between your teeth and smile.

“Your Eminence, I’ve never seen you without your cassock before,” you murmur, eyes raking over his t-shirt, the red sweatpants, and the lovely, familiar tent in them that has your mouth watering, “It makes this so much easier.”

When you slowly lower yourself to your knees as he approaches, you hear him chuckle before sliding a bare hand into your hair.

“Go on then, ragazza mia,” he groans as you lower the waistband of his pants and take him out, “Show me how that–ah–pretty little mouth can atone.”

Your lips slide off the head only for a moment, your hand wrapped around him and stroking lazily.

“Thank you, Your Eminence.”

By the time the two of you crawl to bed, you’re both ruined and exhausted and entirely satisfied.

–

“Cazzo!”

You hear the curse loud and clear through the door to the rehearsal room and wince, your hand on the doorknob. The shouting continues as you cautiously open the door and eight heads swivel over to look at you. Your beloved looks exhausted and red faced, hair disheveled and midway through gesticulating wildly when he immediately drops his hands and his anger and scuttles over to you.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” you say, watching Copia attempt to push back the strands hanging in his face.

“No, no,” he waves, turning to cast his gaze behind him at the seated ghouls who still watch you intently. “I, eh. Amore can you–can you watch them for a moment? Five minutes, maybe ten? I need to uh…recompose myself. These fucking ghouls will not listen.”

The last part is hissed out as you cup his cheek, nodding.

“Go, take as long as you need.”

He turns his head to press a swift kiss to your palm before stalking out. A silence rings out as you turn to look at the infernal beings staring at you like raccoons caught in the garbage cans.

“Hey…guys,” you begin, slowly walking over to them. “I don’t know if you remember me but–”

“Of course we remember you,” the shorter ghoulette whispers, her tone reverent, “You’re the one who took care of us after we were brought here.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, surprised, “I-I mean I just made sure everyone got settled. You know, made sure everyone was comfortable. I don’t even think we know each other’s names.”

So you tell them yours.

And they tell you theirs.

And from there it’s a blur.

You don’t know who pulled you into a chair first - maybe Swiss? But all of a sudden you’ve got ghouls draped all over you, their tails wagging gleefully as they gaze at you with adoration.

“Are you the Cardinal’s mate?”

“Your eyes are so pretty.”

“Can you tell the Cardinal to stop calling us ‘piccoli stronzi’?”

“Are you single?”

You’re not sure who said what but that last question you definitely know is from Swiss by the way he grins at you and winks before being elbowed sharply in the ribs by Cirrus.

“Ok first,” you say, your heart full as Aether shifts to lay his head in your lap, “Tell me why Copia was shouting. What did you guys do?”

“Ugh,” Cirrus says, crossing her arms and canting her hips, “That. He’s pissed because he was trying to tell us how to do our jobs.”

“Well…” you say, “That’s kind of his job, isn’t it?”

“He’s no Papa,” Dewdrop huffs, slumping in his chair. You eye the scarring on the sides of his neck from his elemental transition and your heart hurts for him. Copia was deeply aggrieved about that particular ritual and though you weren’t present for it like you were for the summonings, hearing about it from him was enough to understand the brutality of it.

“He may not be Papa,” you begin carefully, “But he summoned you. Well, most of you. There is no Ghost project without him but also without any of you. You all have a symbiosis with him and…he just wants everything to go right. To be perfect. Surely you understand the stress on his shoulders to not fuck this up, yeah?”

Aether grunts from your lap.

“Wish you were the head of the Ghost project,” Rain murmurs, while towering Mountain nods in agreement. You laugh.

“None of you want to hear me sing, trust me,” you say, idly dragging your fingers through Aether’s hair as Cumulus and Cirrus watch with poorly concealed jealousy, “but my beloved has so much to give. I just ask that you give him a chance. For me.”

You don’t get a response as you hear the door shut behind you.

“Amore,” Copia says, looking a great deal more relaxed but wary as he beholds your captive audience, “This is an…interesting turn of events.”

When a disheveled Aether lifts his head off your lap and gives Copia a lazy grin, you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing.

“She was giving us a pep talk,” Cumulus chirps, rocking back onto her heels, “Really motivational stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Copia says, still cautious.

“Ok everyone,” Cirrus claps sharply, “Back to your instruments. We got an album to learn. Right, boss?”

The ghouls all look to Copia, but Copia is too busy looking at you to notice. You smile and shrug.

“I’ll uh…leave you all to it,” you say, standing up and walking over to your love to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, “See you later, hon. And…be sweet to them, hmm? For me?”

It’s the last time you hear Copia shout in that practice room.

–

You’re nice and cozy in bed, nestled against the pillows and watching stupid cat videos on your phone when there’s a soft knock at the door. At first you think maybe Copia forgot his keys but surely he would have texted you? You throw the covers back and slide off the mattress to pad over to the door. When you open it you expect to see your beloved, perhaps one of the papas, but instead there are…two ghouls.

“Hi,” the taller of the two says, trademark grin on his face. His companion stands silent, shoulders squared and arms behind his back.

“Hey Swiss, Dewdrop,” you say, smiling at them. “If you’re looking for Copia he’s–”

“We’re not,” Dewdrop says flatly, and his tone makes you laugh against your better judgment.

“Oh! Okay. Are…are you looking for me?”

Swiss nods eagerly.

“We uh,” he starts, rubbing his palms, “don’t feel good.”

Dewdrop shakes his head solemnly.

“Uh-huh,” you say, crossing your arms, “I mean, the infirmary will probably be able to help you better than I can but I’ll try my best. What’s up?”

“We can’t sleep,” Dew pipes up.

“Nope, not a wink,” Swiss confirms.

“I mean I’ve got some sleeping meds - can you guys take sleeping meds? Oh God, I don’t want to kill one of you I–”

“Can we stay with you?” Dew asks quietly.

You smirk.

“This your clever way of getting into my bed?”

Swiss coughs and Dew grins, teeth sharp.

“I mean, you said it, not us,” Swiss laughs, “but since you offered–”

You make a quiet noise of protest as the ghouls sidle into Copia’s living room, looking around. You shut the door, shaking your head.

“No funny business, my loves,” you coo, walking back to the bedroom with them on your heels. 

“Oh we wouldn’t do that to Cumulus and Cirrus. O-or the Cardinal.”

You spin on your heel.

“What was that about Cumulus and Cirrus?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison, faces unreadable.

You eye them both suspiciously before climbing back into your now cold bed, scooting to the middle.

“Well, come on,” you say, waving them over. Swiss climbs in on your right side and Dewdrop on your left, snuggling into you. You’re not sure if it’s just your imagination but you swear Dew is emanating warmth. It makes your eyelids heavy and you yawn so deeply your jaw cracks.

“Alright you two bozos, time for bed.”

“Thank you Lady Copia,” Dew says, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Christ, please don’t call me that,” you sigh, tilting your head to rest on Swiss’. As your companions drift off a steady purr begins to rumble between the two of them, lulling you to sleep.

“What the fuck?!”

Your eyes snap open and you choke on your gasp upon seeing a figure in the dark and a glowing white eye staring down at you. The light comes on not long after, and you blink up at your love.

“Hey, hon,” you say, your voice hoarse. “What’s wr–oh.”

The two ghouls are still in your bed, eyes shut. Swiss has his leg slung between yours and both have their arms wrapped around your waist. 

“At the risk of sounding like a cliche,” you murmur, yawning, “it’s not what it looks like.”

Copia glowers down at the three of you.

“Is that right?”

He’s being so very loud, your beloved.

“Shh bello mio, they’re sleeping.”

“In my fucking bed,” he hisses. You know he’s annoyed but you’re just glad he’s being quieter about it now. He throws his hands up and starts muttering in furious Italian. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell them to move. Guys,” you say, nudging them gently, “guys you gotta get up. Copia thinks we’re having a torrid affair.”

Neither of them stir but Swiss starts snoring loudly and you swear you hear a snicker from Dew.

Copia looks incensed.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t even move let alone make them move.”

“Stronzi,” Copia growls, “get out of my bed and your hands off my love or I will send you back to the fucking pit.”

There’s definitely no mistaking Dew’s laughter this time and you have to bite your lip to muffle your own as you look up at your furious lover. He hovers over the three of you, fuming for a minute before turning on his heel and stomping off to the living room to fling himself onto the couch. As you fall back asleep, arousal stirs in your belly imagining the ways he’s going to make you pay. 

You hope it involves penance.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello again! I’m so glad my prompt inspired you! I really enjoyed the first part of “Admiring from Afar” and I look forward to seeing what happens next! ����

Admiring from Afar Pt 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Author note: Thank you so much anon! I am so glad you enjoyed it! I hope everyone likes this part as much as the last one- I wasn't expecting the last one to get so many notes! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and shared Part 1- it truly means the world to me!!!

Tag-list: @hyperfixationwhore, @ophelias-flowerss, @support-local-bands, @kahelis

CW: Broken bones and reparing them, minor violence, angst (?)

Picture belongs to silverformymonsters on Tumblr.

*I have only proof read this once.

If you missed part one- find the link below:

Here's the link you little weirdo

Your screams of pain rattle through camp for what feels like hours. Halsin had told everyone that resetting your bones and putting them together again would not be a pleasant or easy process. Astarion is pacing outside his tent- fists clenching and unclenching as he watches Wyll talk to Karlach by the fire.

Shadowheart and Halsin had kicked Astarion out of your tent an hour ago when they began setting your compound fracture- you had woken up with your mouth open in a silent scream and tears pouring down your face. Astarion regrets threatening Halsin’s life- he wants to be in there with you. He knows he would still feel helpless, but at least he could try to comfort you. It would be more than what Wyll is doing anyway.

 Astarion’s head snaps towards the campfire when Wyll lets out a bellowing laugh at something Karlach has said. Astarion walks up to Wyll and Karlach mindlessly- only one goal in mind.

 Karlach notices him and gives him a sad smile, “Hey fangs-”

  Karlach’s sentence starts as fast as it stops.

 Astarion’s fist collides with Wyll’s face- making the other man fall flat on his back from the force of the punch. Astarion is feeling borderline feral and based on the fearful, angry look in Wyll’s good eye, Wyll knows he is about to snap too.

  Astarion goes to punch him again, but is abruptly pulled backwards by Karlach.

 “Wow there,” Karlach says with a nervous chuckle, “I know tensions are high right now- but I’m going to have to call a party foul on you, Fangs.” 

 “Let me continue spoiling the party then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Wyll stands back up and holds the tip of his short sword to Astarion’s throat.

"Hells Wyll, is that really necessary," Karlach groans.

Wyll ignores her- his eyes peering menacingly back into Astarion's.

  “What in the hells did I even do to you, Spawn?” Wyll asks hotly, fire burning behind his eyes.

 “Me!?” Astarion scoffs,” It’s what you didn’t do for Tav! Do you make a point of letting every person you bed get nearly slaughtered, almighty Blade of Frontiers?”

 Wyll’s anger turns to confusion and then his face lights up with clarity.

 “Astarion,” Wyll says slowly, “I didn’t bed Tav. In fact, they rejected me because, and I quote, ‘I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.’” 

   Astarion feels all the strength and anger leave his body after Wyll’s statement. Karlach lets him go and he wordlessy walks back to his tent. 

  He sits down amongst the pile of pillows and pulls out your broken glasses from his pocket. He thumbs the crooked metal as he starts to connect the dots. 

  He had only seen the kiss, but he hadn’t stayed for the aftermath of the kiss. If he had just waited five more seconds, maybe, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. His jealousy and insecurities had won out over everything the two of you had together.

He isn’t just a body to you- someone to appease your sexual appetite while you romance every person in camp.

You weren’t upset because you had been caught.

 You had genuinely been on the verge of tears due to him unceremoniously dumping you. Astarion didn’t even give you a chance to speak-to defend yourself. Instead, he specifically stole the words right out of your mouth which was something he makes a point of not doing. He packed up all of your belongings faster than he’s ever done anything before. He told you to leave. Leave- in the coldest voice he could have used. He rendered you heartbroken and speechless all in one conversation. Right after you had so sweetly called him “Star” and just rejected a man who was a far more appropriate option for you than him.

  Astarion had assumed you were as tired as you were because you had stayed up all night with Wyll. He buries his face in his hands as more realizations come to the forefront of his mind. 

  You were tired because you had spent the whole night terrified, alone, and in the cold. Heartbroken and Homesick in that horrible tent of yours that you never ended up replacing because you didn’t have to. Would never need to again. 

  He was your protector, your piece of happiness in this scary place, and he turned on you. 

  Astarion begins to feel ill and tears prick his eyes as another tearful scream rips through the air. He had inadvertently left you out for the slaughter and your misery right now is his fault alone. 

  A knock on the wood of his tent jolts him from his thoughts. He gets up and is shocked to see Karlach standing at the entrance of his tent. Astarion tries to hide the nervousness he’s feeling- he really is hoping that punch didn’t earn him a stake.

 “Don’t look so nervous Fangs,” she offers him an easy smile,” I just came to check on you. I know you guys are close and that was a hell of a shiner you left on Wyll.”

  Astarion looks away from Karlach’s friendly face and tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill down his face.

 “I appreciate you checking in one me, but I can assure you that-”

 “You’re fine? That you’re not suffering? Cause I sure am! Tav is like family to me and I regret not rushing over to help them” Karlach pauses and when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. It’s not some secret that you are in love with Tav or they you. We all can see how much you love each other.”

   “In love?” Astarion whispers

 Lae’zel pipes up from next door, “It’s disgustingly clear to everyone but you. You even bed them like you are in love with them. You humans have strange mating rituals. Added note- please keep it down. Some of us sleep.”

  Astarion stares at Lae’zel blankly- not sure what he’s supposed to take from that statement as Lae’zel turns to go to bed. Karlach coughs uncomfortably and chuckles.

   “After the tiefling party,” she smiles ruefully, "they showed me that necklace they made for you and I knew they were smitten.”

  Astarion stares at Karlach in confusion and Karlach’s eyes go wide with realization.

  “What Necklace?”

 “Necklace? Hm weird Astarion, why are you so hyperficated on necklaces SHEEESHH. If you want a necklace so bad, just go buy one. Better yet I’ll buy one for you. No, SIX!” 

   Astarion goes to protest when Karlach interrupts him again.

 “Anyway, I know you have their glasses and I was thinking about taking them to Dammon and seeing if he can fix them. I’ll get that necklace you are so worried about while I’m there too.”

  He rolls his eyes at the tiefling- it’s obvious that she is not willing to elaborate about the necklace and he’s sure this is news that he’d much rather hear from you anyway. Also, Astarion is well aware of Karlach’s massive, horny (She asked him for advice once, never again) crush on the blacksmith and he knows that she will take every opportunity she can to see him. The fact that she also gets to help you at the same time is probably a bonus for her. Astarion hands Karlach the glasses after making her promise to keep them safe. 

   Astarion sighs before making the trek over to your tent- each step feeling heavier than the other.  Shadowheart steps out of your tent right as he’s about to knock on the wooden beams that hold up your mediocre hovel. 

  “They are asking for you,” she says tiredly.

  “Shadowheart,” he pauses, “ I owe you one for helping them and being patient with… me when I yelled at you and Halsin before.”

  “Huh, that sounded dangerously close to a ‘Thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry’, Astarion,” Shadowheart teases as she walks by him, “love has made you soft.”

  There’s that word again. Maybe that is what he’s been feeling towards you this whole time, but he can’t be for sure. He would have to explore these feelings later when he is less stressed, tired, and desperate to be near you. 

  He crawls into your dimly lit tent and you are meekly sitting upright, looking at him expectantly. He immediately sits down in front of you and gently cups your face in his hands. He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, then he kisses your lips.

Astarion takes his time kissing you, pulling you into his lap so that he can support your weak, healing body. Warm tears are streaming down your checks by the time he pulls away. You let out a hiccup as you go to speak- effectively surprising both of you. Astarion chuckles as he traces circles with his fingers on your back.

  “Yo-uu like me aga-in?” you hiccup between tears.

   Well that broke him.

  “Darling, I never stopped,” he states matter-of-factly while he wipes away your tears.

 “Then why?” 

  Astarion takes a deep breath before starting.

  “I saw Wyll kiss you, but I didn’t stay to get the whole picture,” his voice coming out sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing so many uncomfortable feelings at one time; Well, until that happened.”

  Astarion feels his own tears begin to go down his cheeks, “I didn’t want you to hurt me so I hurt you first. I am so sorry, my Love. I understand if you wish for me to go.” 

    Your hands make their way into his hair, gently detangling it and then you move to his tear stained face and kiss the tears away. Lovingly, you use your hands to bring his eyes to yours and Astarion leans into your touch. 

  “It’s okay my Star, I understand. However, I will never forgive you if you leave me.," you pause," Again.”

      He barks out a laugh, “then I guess I can never leave your side?”

   “Silvanus, no,” you wrinkle your nose in the most endearing way, “I have no desire to have the ever loving crap kicked out of me again.”

 “And I share that sentiment- I would prefer you never have the ‘ever loving crap kicked out’ of you again.”

  You slap his arm softly at his mpression of you and you erupt in giggles. Astarion can’t help but smile up at you. The warmth in his chest is absolutely undeniable. You, the bewitchingly good-natured thing that you are, have taken up all the space in his cold, dead heart. You have stood by him through everything and now you have forgiven him as easily as you had walked away from him when he told you to. He doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. As incredible as you. 

  Astarion knows in his gut that he is going to have to talk to you about his initial intentions, then he will give you his feelings served up on a silver platter. If you reject him, he definitely deserves it. But by the Gods does he want you to return his feelings and be able to look past his previous motives.

  For now though, he’s going to pretend like none of that is around the corner. He'll pretend that he does deserve this- deserve you.

  Astarion is going to just let himself bask in your grandeur and shower you with all the affections his actions had stolen from you both over the last 24 hours. 

  You are smiling at him and then a flash of remembrance crosses your face- prompting you to pop up out of his lap and ungracefully crawl towards your pack. Astarion watches you with curiosity and amusement as you throw items out of the bag, cursing, and grumbling “whereeee areee youuuuu????” 

          ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  You look back at him awkwardly, “The whole not having my glasses thing is a real bummer, but I promise you that this neuroticism has purpose.” 

 “Oh don’t worry about that Darling, if your neuroticism hasn’t scared me off yet, it certainly won’t now.”

 You roll your eyes at him and return to digging through your pack until you feel the pouch at the very bottom of the bag.  With an “Aha!” you twist around and crawl back to Astarion and sit in front of him(in criss-cross applesauce obviously). Astarion pouts as you push his arms away when he tries to pull you back on to his lap. 

  “I will sit on your lap all night and never leave if that is what you desire, but I insist that you must open this first.” 

 You hand him the black pouch with the necklace inside. You are practically bouncing in anticipation as he unfolds the silk handkerchief, revealing the necklace. 

  Astarion looks up at you with an unreadable expression (you literally can't fucking see) and then down at the necklace. You anxiously play with your hands.

  “It’s a- uh, well. You had been upset about Gale and the invisibility necklace so I made you one out of Oxen bone,” you ramble, “I know it’s not really your style, but I tried to make it a little bit shiny. It allows you to become invisible- I tested it out myself. Oh and I picked Cadaith for the design because the rune’s meaning reminds me of you- grace, power, and music of the stars….”

  You are blue in the face from your spiel and Astarion still hasn’t looked up from the necklace.

  Gods he must really hate it. 

   Astarion clears his throat and wipes his eyes. He grabs one of your hands, gently sliding his thumb over your knuckles before planting a soft kiss on each of them.

 “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he puts the necklace on and then continues, “thank you my love, it’s the most wonderful thing I own.”

   You beam and lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, due to not having your glasses, you miss abysmally and kiss his nose- both of you chuckling as he guides your lips to his. As you pull back, a gust of bone chilling wind comes in through one of the holes in your tarp. You shiver involuntarily and  Astarion glares at you, unamused, as you scratch the back of your head while adorning an awkward smile.

 “Speaking of things that I own,” Astarion’s now teasing grin giving away his irritated facade, “I would be honored if you would move back into my tent with me.” 

  You feel your grin stretch from ear to ear and you quickly roll up your bed roll. You follow Astarion out of your tent and take his hand when he offers it to you. You walk with him across the clearing- Karlach whoops, whistles, and cheers as you walk by the fire. You stifle your laughter as Astarion pulls you into his tent. He grabs your bedroll and throws it to the side.

Astarion lifts you up and puts you lying flat on his bed roll. Astarion kisses you deeply, coaxing a moan from your lips. He pulls back and looks at you- you huff in frustration. Astarion begins to kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You can see his eyes to some extent, but the rest of him is a no go.

 “You didn’t happen to recover my glasses did you?”

You feel Astarion freeze before slowly bringing his face back up to yours.

  “Don’t worry my dear, it’s already being taken care of," he says, then whispers, "by Dammon.”

  Your stomach drops all the way to your ass. Your ears grow hot with rage and Astarion begins to kiss your face relentlessly- trying to unfurl the fury settling into your features. You can tell he is trying to hold back his laughter at your painfully cute, but angry expression.

 “What do you mean the blacksmith is taking care of my glasses?”

[peachii-nitenite]

Whipped Into Shape- MelJayVik x Reader PROLOGUE

Synopsis: Halfway through college, and thoroughly jaded- you swear that this year is the year you put yourself first. You pray for a calm, drama free year, swearing off of distractions like crushes or pining for your hot friends.

You don't get it.

The fic in which everyone is hopelessly whipped for everyone else. Hilarity and romance ensues.

MASTERLIST AND TAGS

Prologue: Who we are

◈—-*——☆——-*——◈

-Now Playing-

Hard Sell- The Crane Wives

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It was autumn already, the lingering summer sun was beginning to set earlier and earlier.

It was still warm, but the leaves on the trees had already taken their cue to begin golding at the ends. The mornings were chilly, and the days relatively fair.

Which meant it was time to start school once more.

The Piltover Academy of Excellence, the place you spent your entire adolescence trying to get into. Today was the first day of your third year, and you were desperately staving off the impending, inevitable burnout that came with your course load.

Being a fine arts major is all fun and games until you have to maintain a minimum 3.0 cumulative gpa or higher to keep your scholarship.

Especially when the odds were stacked against you the way that they were, in the face of condescending professors and prejudiced classmates.

Oh, joy.

You were your neighborhood’s local Cinderella story. A bright young artist from the undercity gets noticed by a kind sponsor, wins a life changing scholarship, and lives happily ever after drowning in academic bliss. 

You had made your parents proud, waved for the cameras at graduation, and profusely thanked your sponsor and the academy for giving you the opportunity. There was a block party your friends and family had pooled together money to celebrate, there was a small article in the paper showcasing some of your work; And for a moment, it was all perfect. 

From a distance.

The academy was hard to get into for a reason.

And while you were prepared for it, it didn’t make the actual doing any easier.

Let alone dealing with the culture shock of meeting all the students who hadn’t worked as hard as you to be there. The ones who merely had the wealth or influence to buy their way in.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Persevere, no matter what.” you remember your Dad had told you, the night before you moved out. 

“It is who we are.”

Part of you knew you were chosen for optics. You were a prime candidate after all; good grades, no major disciplinary actions in school, a stable set of hard working parents— You were chosen as one of the “good” ones, to set an example; to say-

“Look! Zaunites can succeed too! Look how inclusive we are!”

It would be demoralizing if you didn’t want that damn degree so much.

Or, correction: it was demoralizing, you just didn’t have the time to worry about it.

But at this point, you’d given up on trying to fit in. Anyone who actually mattered knew what you were really like anyways, so you saw no need to prove yourself or go out of your way to reassure your silver-spoonfed peers that you weren’t some kind of feral gutter child sent to disrupt their clean, pristine academic experience.

It’s not that you were unfriendly, it’s just that small talk and keeping up appearances was tedious. Could you be a bit blunt or too aloof sometimes? Sure! Was your resting face often misinterpreted as latent anger? A lot of the time!

But you were too tired to care now.

And all Zaunites looked angry, to them.

You groaned as your phone’s alarm blared into the darkness of your room, cursing as you accidentally knocked it off of your nightstand while trying to hit snooze.

You took it as a sign that it was time to face the day.

You had purposely set it early enough to squeeze in a shower and a small breakfast before you had to catch the bus to the campus, so the idea of sleeping in was nothing more than a fleeting dream anyways. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and forcing your aching body upright, fumbling for your phone to check your notifications.

—--------

*6 Notifications!*

Email- Campus Alerts: Welcome back students! please remember to…(more)

Message- Ma💙: Have a good day today! If you're too tired, I can have someone cover your shift tonight :) 

Message- Mel✨👑: Miss you much!💛 I should be back in town a little after syllabus week, a few more boring Galas to attend this week here at home 🙄

Message- Sky💫🌤️: You have statistics this semester right? Please let me sit with you!!! 🥺

Email- mv.drama@ap.edu: You were marvelous in the summer show my dear! I cannot wait to have you in my new class this semester! Please let me know…(more)

Local News Alert- NEW‼️ Record Breaking Fundraising Gala puts promising Scholar in the spotlight…(more)

—---------

You smiled. Today was going to be a good day, regardless of how stiff your muscles were.

A hot shower, some coffee, a bit of toast, and you'd be right as rain!

Well, that's what you told yourself.

After the heavy lifting you did yesterday, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Your parents owned a small cafe on the outskirts of midtown near the bridge into Zaun. You had moved there after the old storefront back in Zaun was sacked during a riot. After years of toil, they had saved enough to relocate across the bridge.

You worked there full time in the summer, and went part time during the school year. You were fortunate, luckier than most in that respect; that you had a stable family business to rely on when work was so hard to come by these days, especially in your field. Your family was not rich by any means, but you weren't nearly as poor as you were while growing up.

You decided to put in a few extra hours, helping unload and unpack the grocery order. There were some heavier boxes than usual, and you wanted to spare your mom the trouble.

And now you were sorely regretting it.

While your parents were capable people, they were getting older. Perhaps it was your urge to repay them for their support by being a dutiful daughter, or perhaps it was simply to spite your own weak constitution.

Regardless, your back hurt like hell at the moment.

You turned and yanked the blackout curtains open, hissing at the sudden light hitting your eyes, and got to work preparing for the long day ahead.

2 years of college down, two more to go.

You could do this. It was who you were.

–

As expected, the commute was relatively easy. The bus may have been slower than the campus shuttle, but it was certainly much quieter, and less cramped this early in the morning. 

You were a scholarship student, which meant you qualified for use of the dorms. In your first year you made the mistake of staying on campus- immediately ostracized and singled out due to your status. Halfway through that same year you applied to move to the off campus dorms further downtown.

 It was approved right away.

 You weren't sure if it was because they were afraid of a discrimination case, or if they just pitied you. Either way, you were content with your cozy 1 bedroom apartment. No roommates, no curfew, no fuss. There was the occasional loud party on the upper floors, but it was nothing you weren't used to.

The only downside, if you could even call it that, was having to commute everyday. Having a license, but no car, the bus was really the only way to go.

You put in your earbuds and watched the sights of the city bathed in the hazy morning glow roll past you. It was meditative almost: It gaves you time to center yourself; read the news, respond to texts, check your emails.

It was the little things.

—-----------

Messages: Mel✨👑

Mel✨👑: Miss you much!💛 I should be back in town a little after syllabus week, a few more boring Galas to attend this week here at home 🙄

     You: Miss you too! It’ll be so dull without you til then :( 

—------------

Mel Medarda was one of the very, very few friends you had made while studying at the Academy. It was quite a quirky match up, the two of you, seeing as she was literally the daughter of a foreign diplomat, and you were just some kid from the undercity.

At least you weren’t completely alone. There were two other Zaunite students you were acquainted with-

Sky Young, your childhood friend and current cafeteria buddy. You went to the same high school, and were near inseparable when you could find the time outside of class to hang out. She was a Medical Science major; ambitious, but very busy– after all, she worked at the campus lab part time, which helped with her tuition. 

——

Messages: Sky💫🌤️

Sky💫🌤️: You have Stats 102 this semester right? Please let me sit with you!!! 🥺

                                                           You: I sure do, let’s suffer together💙

Sky💫🌤️: at least you’ll have your eye-candy there✨

                                                                                                 You: shut up 🙄

———

You sighed at her playful jab, putting your phone back into your pocket and turning up your music.

There were three Zaunite students in your grade. Sky, Yourself—

And then there was Viktor Michálek. The genius.

He was the other scholarship student. The smarter one, you bitterly recalled some of your more mean spirited classmates had called him. 

Your piddly arts scholarship paled in comparison to his. You remembered reading a local article about it. He was some kind of science prodigy, hand chosen by the dean of the academy, and offered an internship straight out of high school. You’d be jealous if you didn't understand how daunting all of it must have been. You were merely relieved that you and Sky wouldn’t be the lone undercity kids amidst Piltover’s gleaming perfection.

To call him your friend wouldn’t be quite accurate.

Close acquaintance? Favorite cafe customer? Prettiest man you know?-- Perhaps. 

But friend? You didn’t want to overstep by claiming that title officially. You had a few classes together, studied together on occasion, got along well enough, and you knew his cafe orders by heart. 

In the mornings, an extra sweet Caramel Macchiato with a dash of cinnamon on top and a bagel.

In the afternoon, vanilla sweet milk, a sprinkle cocoa powder on top, honey around the cup, and a square of coffee cake.

He would linger, sometimes until your break started, and you would swap stories about your day.

There was an unspoken comfort between the two of you. An understanding. There was no need for small talk, or upper city etiquette. You could just…be. And it was extremely nice in such a sterile, uppity place.

And a part of you felt warm and fuzzy inside knowing he only came to the cafe when he knew you were working.

His face often appeared in your warm up sketches. You couldn't deny that he was handsome, after all.

Perhaps you had a crush.

Perhaps.

Hence Sky’s inside joke of a nickname for him.

Perhaps that’s why you shyed from calling him your friend.

But, aside from them, you more or less kept to yourself. You had plenty of acquaintances, putting a lot of effort into your outward persona. Polite, quiet, non-confrontational, and reserved- the opposite of the gutter rat that the topsiders normally assumed you would be.

But Mel was the first real friend you had made with no prior connection or shared plight. Your friendship was a fast one, a fierce one, and you missed her terribly when she had to go home during the breaks.

The sun continued to peek over the passing buildings as you let the rattle of the bus lull you into a calm, tranquil state. You took a deep breath as you turned up your music.

Onward you went.

It was who you were.

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

Ch 29 - Hold, That Position

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samanthan Kazansky

Rating: EXPLICIT (MDNI! SERIOUSLY LOL)

Warnings: LITERALLY ITS JUST SMUT. Blowjob, unprotected!piv, praise kink, Jake absolutely losing his mind like the feral king Sam wants him to be

A/N: It's...it's literally just smut. LOL. Likes, comments, reblogs, I appreciate every single frigging one and it makes me want to bring you absolutely filthy chapters like this one hahaha. Pic form Pinterest, gif by @kaizsche

If Code Red was the foreplay, this version is the full deal.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989 @khouse712 @kaleysbookshelf @crossfandomskylines

“Take it. Take all of me, Sam, please.”

She couldn’t stop thinking about his words. They were seared into her neurons, the huskiness in his voice playing over and over in the back of her mind on a fucking loop. He didn’t just mean his body. He meant his mind and his soul too. She asked for this side of Jake, and she knew there was still some parts, that he’d repressed, deep down, that were still fucked up, but she could take it. 

Vulnerability. Not a quality that a naval aviator with two confirmed air to air kills wanted on display. But a quality that he wanted to show his fiance. And not only with her. The battered iron armor over his heart was beginning to melt. He was trying.

They had arrived at the Route 66 Auto Museum in New Mexico on a day that they were unfortunately not open. “Do you want to stick around until tomorrow and go then?” Jake asked, parking. They decided they would get out to stretch their legs and let the dogs do the same.

“No, it's okay. We can see it another time. Maybe bring...kids.” Sam suggested, adjusting in the passenger side seat. She glanced back at the dogs then, then back to Jake.

“Sam...” Jake's voice carried a warning, a knowing one, a pleading one, asking her to stop torturing herself.

“I know...I know. I'm just saying. It'd be a good thing to do. Maybe we can steal Jaycen when he's a little older.” She admits.

They stopped for dinner at a small Mexican place on the main street as they passed through. Their driving hours became extended and they decided to go for a while longer, to the hotel near their next stop. They swap places, and Sam drove the rest of the way so that Jake could sleep. He was thankful for her wanting to and they stopped twice along the way to get food for themselves, feed the dogs, again, stretch and take a bathroom break or two.

Jake had underestimated how tiring it would really be to drive but the truck was comfortable and when they finally made it to the hotel, everyone was happy for a bed. Again, Jake had gotten a single bed and there was no couch so they pulled the dogs beds in from the backseat for them to lay on. They set them up in the corner of the room and all three dogs got comfortable immediately. 

“I'm gonna take a shower.” Jake murmured, pulling his shirt off. His tags jingled as he pushed his jeans down his hips and bent down to pull them from around his ankles. He threw his clothes in a pile on the floor and then removed his boxer briefs. As they were pushed past his hips, Sam salivated at the sight of his cock, free from its confines, hanging neatly between his legs. Hungman is more like it haha, she thought, then met his eyes.

“Babygirl, I know you want me, you don't have to stare. You can just come and take what you need .” His voice was husky and low as he straightened up. Heat pooled at her core and her eyes were drawn to his, the sage green burning with desire. 

“You’re tired.” Sam said softly, as she took a single step toward him. She glanced over at the dogs, who were all out cold. 

“Yeah, less thinking happens when I’m tired.” Jake’s fingers twitched at his sides. He shivered slightly, the air in the room hitting his bare skin and sending a wave of goosebumps over his midsection and extremities. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sam closed the distance between them and Jake glanced down to her still clothed form. He brought his hands up, placing them at her hips, his thumbs rubbing over the soft padding over the bones. 

“Nothing that I want to be thinking about.” He murmured, his hands traveling up her sides, across her breasts. He pressed his thumbs over where her nipples would be and blinked slowly. Sam watched a sly smile crept across his lips, his gaze then settling upon hers. Half lidded green met mahogany brown, fire crossing the line of sight between them.

“Tell me?” She pleaded tenderly, hesitantly placing her hands on his taut abs. He gasped sharply, the warmth of her fingers surprising on his cooled skin. Jake’s eyes lowered as his fingers tugged the straps of her dress down her shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna think about it.” He whispered, casually pulling the dress down over her breasts, unhooking the clasp of her bra, guiding it all off her body and onto the floor. Everything fell to the floor with a soft thud. 

“I’m not asking you to think about it. I’m asking you to...”

“Let you in. I know. I’m...just...give me a minute.” There was a rasp to his voice, an edge like a razor, cutting through the quiet and slow intake of breath between them. His eyes flicked down to her exposed breasts, one hand ghosting over her middle to cup one and run his thumb over the nipple. The rush of heat throughout Sam’s body, the flush and rosy color in her cheeks when he touched her was something Jake absolutely adored. 

Sam leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then let her mouth travel down to the bump across his collarbone. The callus that had formed over the broken part was still there and it would eventually shrink, but there was a stark contrast between the left and right sides for now. She kissed it and he winced. It didn’t hurt anymore but the memory of pain was still prevalent. She gave his tags a short tug, her gaze flicked to them. 

“Jacob Alexander Seresin.” He sighed heavily, the whisper of his full name sending a spark through his loins, as Samantha’s hands trailed outward to the carefully sculpted and lean muscles of his obliques and then down, across his Adonis belt. She raised a brow and then sank to her knees.

Jake’s hands followed her, landing on her shoulders. He gathered her wavy brown locks and pulled it all into a fist. His growing erection ached, and he longed for her to give him relief. 

“Tell me.” She commanded in the most gentle way possible, but as her beautiful fingers, her nails an emerald green, wrapped around his length for the first time that evening, he could only think of how much he wanted to obey. Of how badly he wanted to please her. She pressed her lips to the tip of his cock as she had the other night, but this was different. In front of him, on her knees, she was sure of herself. “What’s bothering you, handsome?”

“Fuck, Samantha. You look so good like this. God grant me some fuckin’ strength .” Jake’s tone was husky, his breathing already ragged, and she’d barely even touched him. 

“Tell me what’s bothering you.” She said, licking a line on the underside of his cock, base to pretty, perfect, tip. He groaned in frustration.

“I...fuck...I....got upset when you...earlier...when you mentioned...”

“Kids...I know. I’m sorry.” Her apology split him in two. It was gentle and she took him in her mouth for a moment as her eyes flicked up to his.

“I forgive you.” He moaned. She hummed around him and then placed her wrapped hand closer to the base. She let his cock fall from her mouth then, asking him again. “What else?”

“Just...keep thinking about...capture.” He rasped, his other hand around the back of her neck. 

“What about it?”

“How I wasn’t...wasn’t in...control...can’t...I can’t not...” He stuttered, stumbling over every word and thought as her lips met his hot and throbbing skin again. 

“Yes you can. Let go and let me have you. I won’t hurt you, Jake.” She said, giving him a reassuring squeeze at the point of his hip. 

“Can’t...lose...control.” Jake’s firm tone said one thing, but the unsteadiness with which his words left his lips said otherwise. He could lose it all to her. 

“I’ve got you. All of you, remember? Even the fucked up parts.” She took him fully in her mouth then, evening out her breathing, as his cock nearly touched the back of her throat. Jake couldn’t help how his grip on her tightened. He couldn’t help his hips as they moved, thrusting into her mouth, causing her to draw back, nearly choking on him. Suddenly, his composure snapped back into place, his eyes darting to her. She dug her nails into his hip, eyes closed. He was about to ask her if she was okay when she inhaled sharply through her nose and took him deeper into her mouth again. He threw his head back and cursed, the feeling of her hot mouth wrapped around him almost too much. He reached down, placing his fingers just under her throat, helping her relax it, his thumb caressing her jaw as her cheeks hollowed and she sucked hard. 

“ Good. Fucking. Girl .” He groaned, pressing his thumb into her skin as he felt his resolve fizzle out. He couldn’t help the sounds he made as he pumped his load down her throat. He couldn’t help the emotions that bubbled to the surface as he glanced down, seeing tears streaming down her cheeks as she took everything he gave her. He couldn’t help the pull he had on her hair, when her nails scraped his skin, and they both stilled. As his cock softened, and she let him drop from her mouth, she kissed the tip once more and then rose to her feet. Jake reached up and wiped the tears. “Too good, Sam...you’re too good to do that to yourself for me.”

“I wanted it. I want something else too.” She said, taking his hand. She guided him to the bed, and he crawled over the top of her, his tags jingling as he went. She spread her legs of her own accord,a d hooked them around his waist. His gaze was tired on her, and he took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips. Her fingers traced lines over the vasculature on his arms as they headed toward his neck. At the base, she tangled her fingers in his short hair, pricking his skin with her nails. His cock twitched, blood flow returning rapidly as his arousal picked up again. It wasn’t hard to get him going. Sam did it well, and she knew exactly what got him there. He pressed his hips toward her, rubbing his half-hard cock against her wetness. Wet...was an understatement. She was dripping. 

“So ready for me.” He mused, a smirk crossing his lips as he began to assault her neck with his lips. She was dangling on the edge of her pleasure already and she could tip over it at any moment with Jake above her. He continued grinding against her, cock returning to its full glory in mere minutes. 

“I’m always ready for you, Jake. I’ve always been. I’ve just been waiting for you.” She said, and her double entendre had Jake brimming with emotions that he couldn't quite place. She said it as if she’d been waiting her entire life for him, and maybe she had. Maybe he had been waiting for her too. 

He was at full mast again, length hard and heavy against her stomach as he kissed across her collarbone. Her lips brushed against his cheek as his met her shoulder. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs flicking across her nipples and sending a shiver through her. He took himself in hand, thrusting into her hard. Jake could never quite get over the feeling of her wrapped around him, squeezing him. As he stretched her, Sam moaned his name, the sound heavenly to his ears. 

She pulled him close then and whispered in his ear, “Fuck me, Jake, please. Don’t you dare hold back.”

His knees locked her in on both sides, his hands on either side of her head, and he went to work. He didn’t bother starting slow. She didn’t want that. She wanted the unhinged fucking animal that she knew was in Jake. She wanted him in the state of mind that he’d been in when he was captured. When all he could think of was her. Wanting to get back home to her. She wanted him to let go. 

“Hold. On. To. Me. Seriously.” He growled, causing Sam to intertwine her fingers at the back of his neck. The only sound in the room then was the loud slap of skin on skin, and Jake knew they would both be sore tomorrow. He rutted into her, absolutely fucking railed her, his groans loud as he hit the deepest parts of her with every single thrust. At the first thrust she felt pain shoot through her core, at the second she disconnected her fingers, and by the third, her nails were piercing the skin of his back, leaving deep scratches, valleys that marked him as hers and hers alone. She raked them across the strong musculature as he rammed his hips into hers. Jake felt her walls clench over and over and the sensation ripped a strangled howl of pleasure from him so loud that it alone sent Sam careening over the edge of her orgasm as well. She whimpered his name over and over, whining as her walls pulsed around him, eventually dissolving into wordless echoes of his name. 

Jake’s body drained of every feeling, every emotion, every bit of tension as he emptied his load into Sam, settling his body over hers. His breathing was uneven, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his neck and shaking pectorals. Sam at some point had lost her grip with the beads of sweat that had formed on his skin and her hands had fallen to the sheets, gripping them for dear life, when Jake’s thrusts became sloppy. 

They stayed there for a few moments, before Jake was backing away, and pulling her toward the shower. He turned the water on and guided her under the hot stream, the temperature soothing and smoothing out the last bits of tension in both hers and Jake’s bodies. He wasn’t done though.

“You wanted this.” He purred, his breath hot near her ear. He nipped at the shell then kneed her legs apart as he pressed her against the cool tile. He bit down on her shoulder as he thrust up into her. She hadn;t even realized he was hard again until then, until he was in her space, invading her air, caging her in with his strong musk. 

“I know. I want you. I want it, Jake. Please, keep going. Keep fucking me. Fucking stay inside me forever. Fuck me forever, oh my god.” Her words fueled him, as he left teeth marks on her shoulder, hickeys on her neck, and reddened skin on her ass as he pulled out and flipped her around, smacking her bottom as he pushed himself inside her from behind. He gathered her hands above her head, against the wall, keeping them joined at the wrists. His other hand was firmly around her middle, steadying her, making sure she couldn’t move. Making sure that he could just fill her over and over and she couldn’t escape, and she’d never want to anyway. 

“Jake, Jake, Jake!” She saw stars, as another orgasm washed over her. It had been there, creeping up behind her and pushing her over the edge without her even realizing it. Jake was not far behind, his balls drawing up tight, cock pumping, painting her inner walls again. Jake was absolutely spent, exhausted, as his length fell from her. His thighs were shaking, his body trembling behind her. Sam’s was damn near the same, tension gone. Everything in their bodies was dull, ache-less, and relaxed as she turned to him. 

Jake’s lips met Sam’s in the most gentle touch, more than a brush of the lips, but less than a full kiss. Jake recoiled slightly to examine his fiance, and what he saw was stunning. His girl, his woman, fucked out, and filled to the brim, with happiness. Her smile was wide, lids lowered, breath easy. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her, feeling the devotion pass between them. 

“Now you know.” Sam whispered, barely audible over the water running. Jake’s brow furrowed.

“Know what?” He asked, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones. Her fingers had met his chest, toying with the sparse golden hair there. 

“That you can let go. You can lose control and I will still be okay.” She said softly, closing the distance between them once more. 

“Are you okay? Was I too...?” His voice was unsteady as his hands connected with her waist. She leaned into him, against his chest and sighed deeply. Her words came out reassuringly, putting him at ease.

“I'm fine, Jake. You didn't hurt me. I like knowing that you can go there with me. I trust you.” 

“And I trust you...to take over...when I can give up control. It’s not often...but knowing that I can let go...really let go...it means more than you will ever know...and so much more than I will ever be able to express...” Jake closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Sam’s warm body curled into him, under the stream of hot water. They stayed there for a long while, soaking in each other’s quiet presence.