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#came up with something at 2am
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love, mike
that sounds stupid, i know. you aren’t supposed to begin a letter with the end. it’s exactly the opposite of what they taught us to do when writing a letter in the 4th grade. but the thing is, our whole lives have been the opposite of normal. from being bullied, to meeting a girl with superpowers, to fighting monsters from a hell dimension, nothing in our lives have ever been in the norm. that’s exactly why we were ever bullied in the first place. because we aren’t normal, we don’t fit in. we never wanted to fit in.
ever since you moved, i’ve felt like a part of me is missing, like i lost you. i feel the same way i felt all those years ago when you went missing. that was the worst day of my life. it was also the day i met el. she’s the only reason that we were able to save you, she was the best thing that could’ve happened to me, or rather, us… at the time. i mean, el literally has super powers, but she was like us in the sense that she didn’t fit in either. she’s never going to fit in, we’re never going to fit in. but this letter isn’t about el, i guess in a way it sort of is, but it isn’t. i know that doesn’t make sense, but just bare with me here.
throughout this whole letter, i’ve kept circling back to not fitting in, to not being normal. hell, i started this letter with “love, mike,” which is entirely the point. i’m too scared to say it out loud, i’m too nervous to even acknowledge it most of the time but i just had to get it out, i had to write it down. i’m a writer, it’s what i do, and i feel like even if i did have the courage to tell you in person i wouldn’t even be able to get the right words out because i suck at articulating my feelings verbally and it would come out all wrong.
the point is that for the past 3 years, i’ve loved el, and i still do love el, that isn’t going to change.
i love her, but i’m not in love with her, not like i am… with you.
i love you, will. i love you so much that it hurts. it’s physically painful for me to not be near you, to not be able to talk to you everyday. you’re mom has that new telemarketing job, it’s why i haven’t been able to call. don’t get me wrong, i’ve tried, i’ve tried every single day for months, but the line is always busy. knowing you, you probably think that i’m ignoring you, that i don’t care about you anymore. which is not true at all, will, and i really hope you know that. i know i could’ve sent you letters, i send el letters all the time, but i knew that if i sat down and tried to write you a letter that i would start confessing everything i feel for you, pretty much like how i’m doing right now actually.
i think on some level i’ve always known. ever since that day we met on the swing sets, i wasn’t lying when i told you that that was the best thing i’ve ever done. you are the most important person in my life, i think you’re kind of the only thing that keeps me going most of the time. so yea, i’ll begin this letter with “love, mike” because it is exactly how i feel. it’s out of the norm, it isn’t what you are “supposed” to do, and i’ll begin every letter to you with “love, mike” until the day i die, because i’m in love with you. i love you, will. we are the exact opposite of what society wants us to be, and if i had to choose anyone that i wanted to be outcasts with for the rest of my life, i’d choose you. i would choose you a million times over. this all sounds crazy, but then again, we promised that we’d go crazy together.
it’s only fitting to end this letter with the way it should’ve began, so what you do now is totally up to you. god, i hope you love me too.
dear will
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theirloveisgross · 8 months
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hemaris · 2 years
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a guy i've never seen before in my life tried to get into my apartment at 2am last night and i'm unironically so normal about it
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tiredarts-sketchbook · 7 months
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dante-mightdie · 3 months
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part 3. of the toxic!simon adventure (contains smut)
alex begins making many more appearances in your life and simon can’t fuckin’ stand it. tells himself that there’s just something off about that guy, doesn’t seem like he could protect you if it came to it. this statement made price let out a scoff in response
“he’s one of the best soldiers i’ve ever worked with, simon. besides, they’re just bein’ friendly with each other.”
“too friendly…” simon mumbles under his breath, narrowing his eyes as he watches you laugh at one of alex’s silly puns
simon spends a lot of time at the Price household. he says it’s because your old man lives closer to base but the truth is he can’t stand being alone in his flat in manchester, haunted and plagued by the chaos he’s seen on the field
he didn’t appreciate how often he was bumping into alex keller when he came to visit. price claiming that alex has to some work to conduct in the UK and offered him a place to stay. nothing to overthink, he says.
except for the fact that you’re both attached at the hip. watching tv together, joining alex on his morning runs, driving you around to help you run your errands. simon watches with a twitch in his eye, a mean feeling bubbling up in his chest as he watches his favourite toy get snatched up by the new kid in the playground
simon is constantly finding opportunities to get in your way, or more specifically, get in Alex’s way. He’ll watch from the kitchen as Alex’s hand twitches to reach out for yours when you’re both watching some show you were both talking about at dinner…
so simon decides he wants to watch that show too, planting himself right beside you, if he was any closer he would be sitting in your lap.
he caught a peek of the two of you stood in the back garden, alex pointing up at the night stars and leaning over to whisper something in your ear, making you giggle
so simon decided he needed to have a cigarette right that second, stalking out into the garden and slamming the door to announce his presence
“not interrupting anythin’, am I?”
you both sheepishly smile and shake your heads, seperating from each other
later on that night when the house is quiet and everyone has headed off to bed, simon finds himself unable to sleep. he thinks about going for a smoke or having another glass of bourbon but instead finds himself with his hand down his sweats, sloppily pumping his cock
in his other meaty hand, he holds his phone. a picture of you clad in some stringy lingerie that you sent to him one late night a few months ago. these pictures were always the product of you having a bad day and then being ignored by simon
crying in your room because he’s an emotionally unavailable prick, telling yourself that you’re over it and you’re gonna ignore him too. and then less than an hour later, your posing for your camera in a desperate attempt to get him to come to your room
well, at least, that’s what you used to do. simon never responded to these pictures. not even a thumbs up. perhaps you got tired of being ignored by him, simon thinks. or maybe you want him to send you a picture this time. or maybe, just fucking maybe, you’re sending these pretty pictures to someone else…
the thought makes simon yank his hand from his trackies with a curse falling from his lips. his cock aching and leaking against the material of his boxers, desperate for release. he snatches his mask from the bedside table and trudges down the hallway, only to stop at the sound of breathy moans coming through the crack of your door
it’s nearly 2AM. why is the light on in your room? why are you awake? simon’s brain runs a mile a minute with thoughts of you. when did he start thinking about you?
he places a hand on your door and slowly pushes it open enough so you can’t see his bulky frame in the dark hallway
and there you are. laying on your back with your forearm over your eyes, loud moans escaping your throat as desperate sobs. for a second, simon’s brain doesn’t even notice there’s another person in your room, too focused on watching your blissed out expression to notice that Alex was on top of you, pushing on your thighs to tuck your knees behind your ears
the slick sounds of your pussy being fucked would probably have been enough to keep simon’s cock hard, but not when he’s watching you fall apart in another man’s arms
he’s got you folded into a mating press, repeatedly slapping his hips into yours. he nearly vomits from rage when he hears you cry out his name
“Alex! fuck, I can’t… ‘s too much…” you whine out, bracing your hands on his shoulders when Alex reaches up to grip the headboard of your bed
“yeah, ya can, sugar. so good for me. such a good fucking girl. all pretty for me, ain’t that right, baby?” he whispers in your ear, but simon heard it. and it makes him fucking rage that this is what has become of him. standing in the pitch black corridor, watching you get fucked by another man like a pervert
but simon isn’t getting off on this. no, how can he enjoy staring at your panties dangling from your ankle knowing he wasn’t the one tugging them off your wet pussy? how can enjoy the sound of your moans when you silence them by pulling on Alex’s dogtags for a kiss?
you look so pretty when you come, simon thinks to himself as you squeal and kick your feet against Alex’s back. so pretty when it’s too much for you…
not that simon would know. he always turned your face away from his when you fucked, putting you on your knees and shoving your face into the mattress.
simon decides it’s too much for him to handle when he hears you begging for Alex to come inside of you. stalks back to his lonely room and unlocks his phone, shoving his hand back into his boxers and loading up a picture of you…
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dearbraus · 5 months
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Monstrous Oddities ࿐
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— Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney.
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, monster fucking, diphallia (multiple cocks), dragon dicks, double penetration, marking (Neuvi), knotting, doggy style, semi public sex, daddy/sir kink (Wrio), barbed penis, overstimulation, phone sex, pussy whipped Lyney, creampies, unprotected sex, animalistic urges, dragon!neuvi, dogboy!wrio, catboy!lyney general dick headcanons. ⊹ Run time. 1.2k ⊹ Note. This came to me at 2am after reading some other headcanons I previously wrote. Enjoy <3
Dick Headcanons —
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꧁ Neuvillette - Two is better than one ꧂
Specifications: 12”, scaled and slightly ribbed, thin tapered heads that’s perfect for kissing your cervix, and full, heavy balls twitch when you suck on them.
❥ Most presumed that aside from his pointed ears and penchant for plain water, that Monsieur Neuvillette was more human than dragon— they’d be incorrect of course but that’s knowledge only you get to relish in. ❥ Beneath his perfectly tailored slacks lay not one but two cocks. The peculiarities don’t end there, however, his cocks are slightly ribbed and scaly in a way that resembles a fish's scales. His cocks are tinged blue near his pelvis but the colouration is lost amongst the neatly trimmed puff of his pearly white pubes that trails up his abdomen. ❥ In spite of his years, Neuvillette is still rather unaccustomed to human convention. It took seeing your shocked expression to realize that most weren’t as well endowed as he was, nor were they likely to have two girthy cocks. So, it takes him a bit to learn how your body reacts to him and just how much you’re able to take. He’s willing to learn, he’s nothing if not dutiful and gentle. ❥ He learns that to take one of his cocks he’ll need to work you open with a couple of his thick fingers first. That is, of course, after he’s warmed you up with his forked, serpentine tongue that nearly engulfs the whole of your aching cunt. And that you’re sure to squirt if grinds his second cock into your throbbing clit as he fucks you. Since taking even one of his cocks is a challenge, more often than not, Neuvillette uses his second cock to stimulate your clit while his mouth is busy sucking and licking the tender skin of your neck and chest. He can’t help it, the need to leave you covered in signs of him is far too strong, that’s why he cums in and on your pussy. ❥ Once you’ve gotten used to the stretch, can take it with ease, and are feeling a little adventurous, Neuvillette doesn’t waste the chance to split you open on both of his cocks. Seeing you so full of him stirs something primal within him. It’s a feeling he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge him but it claws its way out of his chest with you. The urge to remind you that you’re his, and only his gets muddled between kisses to your tear stained cheeks. You’re his perfect pet, you take him so well, and he’ll be sure to remind you.
꧁ Wriothesley - The duke is a dog ꧂
Specifications: 8”, rosy, round bulbous head, girthy, with a thick knot nestled amongst a thatch of unruly, dark curls that drives him wild when you tug on them.
❥ Wriothesley’s sharp canines aren’t the only wolfish things about him. Below his belt resides a truly monstrous cock. You think it’s rather titillating, your mouth waters just at the sight of his fat knot but Wrio was rather weary, he knew it was a bit peculiar and didn’t want to scare you away. Those worries didn’t last too long. ❥ Jerking off was always a bit tiresome for Wrio. His knot ached to inflate inside of a warm, wet hole so his calloused, spit slick hands never satisfied that need. The first time he fucked you, he nearly came after pushing the tip in. Wrio was so sensitive, he hadn’t cum properly in far too long. He nearly tore your silk sheets from how tightly he gripped them as he willed himself to sink his cock a little deeper into your pussy. He wasn’t much a believer in Celestia but he felt like he ascended that first time … and every time after that. ❥ He didn’t knot you until you’d been together for two years. Though you swore you could take, that you wanted to take it, Wrio always worried he’d lose control. It wasn’t a feeling he liked. Wriothesley liked feeling in control, he liked how you willingly submitted to him, hushed cries of “daddy” or “sir” never far from your lips, adoration pooling within the depths of your eyes. But, he was grateful he loosened the reins. ❥ One stress filled evening snowballed into you splayed across his desk at the fortress, your puffy, aching cunt slick and throbbing with need for him on display. You were so wet, moaning so loudly for him, it was almost too easy for him to slip his knot into your weeping hole. Your wanton whimpers were forever burned into his memory as it began to swell inside of you, his rough skinned hands roaming all over your body as his teeth dug into the flesh of your shoulder. Your eyes glazed over and a shudder wracked through your body as he filled your cunt with his seed. He knew then that he spent far too long depriving himself and you. ❥ Wriothesley was gone after that, he just couldn’t go on knowing how sweet you sounded as you squealed and begged for him while filled with his knot and cum. Maybe he was greedy but you loved being his cockdrunk pup. So, it was a win-win.
꧁ Lyney  - He has more tricks up his sleeves ꧂
Specifications: 5”, veiny, sensitive head, equally sensitive barbs, kissable hip bones, and a leaky tip that’s just begging for your kisses.
❥ While his sister Lynette possessed most of the outward cat-like traits that was carried down their lineage, most of Lyney’s feline genetics poked through in his personality and behaviour, except for his cock. His pretty, blush pink cock was barbed near the base. He once read that they were meant to aid mating but he found that they made his cock far too sensitive to touch. He could only bear to lightly graze the tips of his fingers over his shaft most days. More often than not, Lyney came untouched, blowing his load in his underwear from the friction of the fabric alone. ❥ The first time you sucked his cocked, he cried from how good it felt, pushing your head down until you gagged. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, far too blissed out to notice until afterward (to which he spent the next five minutes fawning over you and apologising). Now, Lyney didn’t fancy himself a hedonist but he quickly became addicted to the way you laved your tongue over his barbs, and grazed your teeth over the sensitive flesh. ❥ Lyney became overstimulated every time the two of you fucked. Though, that didn’t stop him from pushing himself past the point of sanity so that you’d cum on his cock. He felt selfish otherwise, and he found nothing more satisfying than bringing you to completion whether it be with his fingers, mouth, cock, or one of the many toys the two of you seemed to amass. So, even if he was on the brink of blacking out from the pleasure, his cock pink and raw, he was going to fuck you were just as far gone as he was. Even if it took hours. ❥ Sometimes he found himself getting hard just thinking about you. The mind was a fickle thing, it too often loved to play tricks. Like making Lyney’s innocent thoughts trickle into passion filled memories that left him aching and needy for you. He’d call you far too late into the night just to hear your voice as ground his palm against the weepy tip of cock, musing how much he missed the feel of your skin against his. He may have been cumbrained and addicted to your sweet cunt, but he was still a romantic.
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© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.
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badjokesbyjeff · 3 days
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A fellow decides to take off early from work and go drinking. He stays until the bar closes at 2am, at which time he is extremely drunk. When he enters his house, he doesn't want to wake anyone, so he takes off his shoes and starts tip-toeing up the stairs. 
Half-way up the stairs, he falls over backwards and lands flat on his rear end. That wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had couple of empty pint bottles in his back pockets, and they broke, and the broken glass carved up his buttocks terribly. But,he was so drunk that he didn't know he was hurt. A few minutes later, as he was undressing, he noticed blood,so he checked himself out in the mirror, and, sure enough, his behind was cut up something terrible. Well, he repaired the damage as best he could under the circumstances, and he went to bed. The next morning, his head was hurting, and his rear was hurting, and he was hunkering under the covers trying to think up some good story, when his wife came into the bedroom. "Well, you really tied one on last night," she said. "Where'd you go?" "I worked late," he said, "and I stopped off for a couple of beers." "A couple of beers? That's a laugh," she replied, "You got plastered last night. Where the heck did you go?" "What makes you so sure I got drunk last night,anyway?" "Well," she replied, "my first big clue was when I got up this morning and found a bunch of band-aids stuck to the mirror."
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isaacathom · 1 year
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i need more sets of earrings bc the ones i got pierced with are boring and faintly worry me (the stud is quite small and i have previously had issues with headphones pushing them into my ear), but i only have two sets of earrings that i can swap between :(
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in-som-niyah · 2 months
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Attentive!Jason who feels you toss and turn away from him in the night, signalling that something was wrong. He didn't know what, but upon feeling you curl into a ball, holding your stomach, it clicked.
Attentive!Jason who turns on his side to pull you back into his chest, hoping the warmth would soothe you enough to go back to a deeper sleep. Sighing sadly, he realizes that this time might be worse than he thought.
Attentive!Jason who kisses your hairline and slowly untangles himself from you in order to get up. He goes and puts the kettle on, fills a glass of water and brings your painkillers of choice, making a mental note of buying you more the next time he's out.
Attentive!Jason who sets the glass and painkillers on your nightstand, then slowly makes his way back into bed. Gently, he wakes you with kisses and firm strokes on your back, soothing some of the ache.
Attentive!Jason who, upon gently waking you, helps you to the bathroom to get cleaned up and take a hot shower.
Attentive!Jason who kisses your lips every time you try and apologize for ruining the sheets followed by a "no more tears querida, just let me take care of you"
Attentive!Jason that fills up your hot water bottle and a cup of herbal tea with extra honey just how you like it, and brings both items back to your room. He wraps the hot water bottle in a thin, fuzzy blanket, as to not burn you.
Attentive!Jason who puts your towel and clean pyjamas in the dryer for 5 minutes to warm them up for you before you get out of the shower.
Attentive!Jason who helps dress you when your shower is done, but leaving you to do what you need to privately. He just wants you safe and comfortable.
Attentive!Jason that guides you back to bed, not in a smothering and demeaning way, but just to make things easier on your aching joints.
Attentive!Jason that bundles you up snugly after you finish your tea, and reads to you to help you fall back asleep. The painkillers seem to be working, and he knows his voice soothes you.
Attentive!Jason that kisses your forehead and presses the hot water bottle to your sore abdomen once you begin to stir again, in effort to ease the tension.
Attentive!Jason who will, no matter what time it is, get up to get what you need. This boy is so madly in love with you, nothing you could ever need is too much for him. It doesn't matter if he just came back from a gruelling patrol, a fight with Bruce, or recovering from his own ailments. Jason Loverboy Todd is going to bring you tea at 4am. No complaints. No questions asked.
Attentive!Jason who secretly researches new ways to help you when you're hurting, always wanting to learn and improve.
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a/n: answered this ask that disappeared for some reason???? it was from some general attentive!jason hcs when reader was on their period/cramping but i genuinely have no idea where it went....
anyways time for bed its 2am
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dear-ao3 · 8 months
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greetings my friends, romans and fellow countrymen. the time has come once again for me to spin you a yarn of a ridiculous, but absolutely true, tale.
is it candles again, saph? nay.
delaware, then? regrettably, no.
it is a ghost.
as you may know, katya (the other mod on this account) and i have recently moved into an apartment together, which is something that should have never been allowed but alas someone gave us adult money the power to make silly decisions and we went buck wild.
said apartment is weird and old. it may have been a hotel at one point. the building is entirely crooked, and we have 70s parquet floors, popcorn ceilings and a heat lamp in our bathroom.
katya was at the apartment (hereafter referred to as "the popcorn palace") before i was and one night about a week ago called me at 9pm to say "holy shit bestie i think i just saw a mouse"
mice in apartment buildings are not uncommon. and i said as much.
katya searched the whole apartment for the mouse or evidence of mice and came up empty. it was only then that katya told me that he had been sitting in the dining room at the time of the mouse sighting and thought that he had seen it out of the corner of his eye. and, that he was prone to seeing things that weren't there. and he was also tired.
nevertheless !!! katya went down to the front desk and said hello we have a mouse and the front desk said ok bet an exterminator will be there on tuesday.
a few days goes by. there are no more mouse sightings.
and then i moved in.
the day of the move in i woke up at 6am, drove 3.5 hours with my dad blasting a playlist of billy joel, pitbull and children's music, scrubbed crusty vomit out of my sisters new dorm room's carpets for 11 hours and finally arrived at the popcorn palace at 1am. to put it simply, i was exhausted.
katya was not at the popcorn palace that night. this is a crucial detail.
i went to shower around 2am and afterwards was standing at the sink brushing my teeth. out of the corner of my eye. i see something small run across the carpet in the hall.
my first thought was holy shit its the mouse
my second thought was wait a minute did i really see it
i went into the hall, half naked, and searched for the mouse. i found nothing. and then i went to bed.
the following day when katya spawned in i said, oh by the way i may have seen the mouse, but it was 2am and i had been up for 20 hours and it was out of the corner of my eye.
and katya looked me in the eyes and said.
"hey bestie. what if its a ghost. what if we have a ghost mouse."
it is important to note that neither of us believe in ghosts.
we named the ghost mouse desperaux.
you may think this is the end of the tale, but no.
nay! weary reader!
last night katya, fennec (katyas partner) and i were all in the apartment. we were up late dealing with a situation. at about 12:50am we all said goodnight and went to bed.
i turned off the bathroom light, the hall light, and then closed my door and hopped on tumblr for a few minutes. katya and fennec were still awake and at about 1am i saw the hall light turn on. i was like hm. they must still be awake. and so i went to bed.
i woke up at 7am to get ready for work and noticed that the hall light was still on. i figured that they must have forgotten to turn it off.
i turn off the hall light on my way to the bathroom and go about business as usual. katya comes out of his room to go make coffee and i say casually.
"oh bestie, why was the hall light on all night?"
and katya says "i thought you turned it on"
and i said "i was already in my room when it turned on"
katya looked concerned.
and i said "i turned the light off before i went to bed and i heard you guys still awake and then the light went on so i figured you went into the hall and forgot to turn it off"
and then katya said, very slowly, with fear in his eyes, "we were still in my room when the light went on because fennec got up to go check that the door was locked and said "oh the hall light is on, saph must have turned it on"
we both stared at each other in mild shock horror. do we have a ghost? it seems likely. did the ghost mouse turn on the hall light? potentially.
the exterminator is coming today. hopefully he specializes in ghosts.
we will keep you updated.
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itsvelyria · 3 months
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"little things they do for their s/o"
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Charles Leclerc
he was raised a gentleman, taught to treat ladies with the utmost care and respect. but as much as it was part of his nature, he liked opening doors for you. perhaps it was the tiny smile that you would give him as you passed or simply because it gave him joy to have helped you in some way. whether it was cars, restaurants or hotels, he always made sure to take that two quick steps to the door, pulling the handle and turning to you with that cheeky grin and wink. the flush that dusted your cheeks with their matching giggle always making his day.
Carlos Sainz
he didn't think too much of it, taking your purchases from you when you two were out shopping one day. it had felt so natural, one of your hands laced with him while the other carried your stuff. then it was a november night when you were stumbling back home after a late night when you had taken off your shoes, whining about blisters. he had leaned down, long fingers reaching for the heels while the others came to circle your waist, stabilising you. you had shot him a grateful smile and he replied with one of his.
Danny Ricciardo
whether he was on a plane, or in a garage somewhere on the other side of the world, your boyfriend always *always* sent you a reminder to drink water. it was sweet, the way your phone would light up at random times of the day with a message from your lover telling you to hydrate. and it was never pushy, the way it felt when your mother did, though that could just be because of the person. even during calls at 2am because he had just gotten out of his debrief session, the man never failed to show concern for your health.
George Russell
in his defence, you were always cold and always sneezing in his car. when he'd picked you up for your first date, you had been shivering by the time you two had gotten to the restaurant. picking up the car from the valet after, he'd turned up the heat, noticing how your shoulders had loosened. ever since then, he had started paying slightly more attention to the weather and adjusting the temperature in the car accordingly. it was a little thing, but it made him smile whenever you would slide into the passenger seat and feel that much more comfortable.
Lando Norris
you had just chalked it up to the way of life, hair ties were meant to go missing. until one day. when you were watching a video of your boyfriend and noticed a familiar blue elastic around his wrist. still, you had assumed it was another of his bracelets. then came a particularly hot day in Austin, you were lying on his makeshift bed, wondering if this was how hell felt like. your boyfriend had walked in, taken one glance at you and offered you a hair tie. the brown band staring you in the face had a little smiley face charm and something clicked in your head. now, you had your very own hair tie dispenser in the form of a very thoughtful man.
Lewis Hamilton
the man knew he was doing it. you were considerably shorter than he was and he respected that you had a smaller gait than him. but this also meant that in order to be able to hold your hand, he had to slow down and match your pace, which wasn't such a bad trade-off. in fact he quite enjoyed it, even if it was through the sea of cameras pointed right at him and fans waiting for him to sign merchandise in the paddocks. it was poetic in a sense he supposed, the way you made life seem to slow down so that he could truly take the time to appreciate it.
Max Verstappen
your boyfriend had a miracle brain, something that should be studied by scientists and academics worldwide. how else could one explain how he manages to know where every single one of your possessions were at all times? what you didn't see, was that he spends a lot of time watching you. his eyes couldn't drag themselves away from you the second you entered a room, tossing your AirPods or keys on the bookshelf or nightstand. quietly, he'll note the location, loving it when you would shout across the house asking where your phone was and he'll be able to tell you it was in the bathroom. the reward of your lips on his cheek wasn't bad either.
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finelinevogue · 14 days
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overwhelmed
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summary - you’re overwhelmed but luckily you have harry
pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader
word count - ~1k
“Hey, I came as quick as I could.”
Harry was ushered inside by Maya, your best friend. Harry was wearing joggers and a baggy hoodie - since it was 2AM and he had been sleeping.
“I’m actually slightly scared. You live like twenty minutes away and I only got off the phone with you like twelve ago…” Maya chuckled, shutting the door behind them.
“Yeah I might’ve already been out of the door and in the car by the time our phone call ended.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Well you certainly win boyfriend of the year.”
“Speaking of, where’s Y/N?”
“Curled up on the sofa.” Maya showed Harry the way through.
“Still upset?”
“It’s scary how she doesn’t run out of tears…”
Harry chuckled because he knew all too well.
Maya showed Harry to where you were curled up on the sofa, blanket tucked high up your body and tissue in your hand. You were staring at the room - not particularly looking at anything.
“Thanks.” Harry smiled at Maya and she took it as her queue to hang back in the kitchen.
Harry rounded the sofa and slowly came into your line of vision, not wanting to startle you.
“Hey, my pretty girl.” Harry smiled when he saw your puffy eyes and red cheeks from crying so much. “What’s all the fuss about, hm?”
“Harry.” You pouted and then started to cry again, cupping your hands over your eyes because you were so embarrassed he was seeing you like this.
Your relationship was 5 months new and even though you’d already had arguments and cried in front of each other, it’d never been like this.
This was full on sob and snot crying.
You didn’t even cry like this on your period.
“Hey, hey. What’s this about?”
Harry did in fact know what this was all about, after being rung by Maya when she’d gotten concerned about how much you were upset.
What’s strangest about this situation is Harry knew you weren’t even upset by something that had hurt your feelings. If anything, you were upset because you were feeling too much.
“Hello?” Harry answered the phone groggily, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the bedside lamp.
“Hi Harry. I’m sorry to wake you.”
“No, no it’s fine. Is there a reason you’re calling off Y/N’s phone, Maya?”
“Harry… Y/Ns a little upset.” Harry sat up in bed then, “Actually, a lot upset. I didn’t want to call but i’m getting kind of worried.”
“What’s happened? Is Y/N okay? Are you guys safe?”
“Yeah we’re in my house. It’s just, we had quite a bit of wine to drink and got to talking about relationships and then Y/N started talking about you. At first she was all giddy and happy but then she started getting herself worked up about how perfect you are and how she doesn’t think she deserves you.”
Harry liked the thought that you liked him a little bit more than you lead on, but he didn’t like that it came at the expense of your anxiety. Anxiety you had tried so hard to overcome from previous relationships.
“Can I come over?” Harry asked, already getting himself out of bed.
Harry sat on the sofa next to you, picking you up gently so he could situate you in his lap. You didn’t take long to become comfortable, by throwing your arms around his neck and burying yourself into the safe crook of his neck.
“Ssh, shh. I’ve got you.” Harry kept repeating.
He rocked you ever so gently, just allowing you the comfort of being held.
“You’re here.” You said after you’d settled slightly.
“I’m here.”
“You’re the best.”
Harry smiled at that.
“I like to think so.”
You stroked his chin stubble, finding a strange calmness to the grizzle.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“No, but I am.”
“I don’t want you to be. Means you’re sorry about the reason you were upset in the first place and I actually quite liked the fact you maybe like me a little too much. If i’m being selfish.” Harry gave you a cheeky smirk that had you calming in an instance.
“I just got so overwhelmed.”
“I know.”
“Because… B-because….”
You looked up at Harry in his not-so-scary eyes and for once you found this part of a relationship easy.
“Go on.” He encouraged with a whisper.
“Because I love you.”
You smiled and felt your cheeks flush. Harry’s face copied your emotions and he leant down to give you a welcomed kiss.
“You love me?” He asked excitedly, kissing you again because he couldn’t deny himself.
“I do.”
“Hmm.” He giggled excitedly.
“Do you… do…”
“I love you. I love you. I fucking love you, Y/N.”
It was your turn to chuckle and let the tears well up in your eyes again.
“No, no, no. No more tears.” Harry was quick to rectify the situation by kissing you again, moulding his lips to yours like that’s what they’d been created to do.
“I feel five times more overwhelmed than I did before you arrived.” You said.
“Okaayyy…”
“But I also feel five time more safe and calm than I did before you arrived.”
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kayjayjwrites · 29 days
Text
Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One
Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.
Chapter Word Count: 6,350
Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie
Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!
Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~
It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.
Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.
They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.
It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.
Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle. It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.
Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.
Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.
You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.
The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.
It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.
You would take the job.
Not to be a spy for Kier.
Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.
It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.
But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.
However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.
It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.
That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.
You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.
It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a couple years into your career.
The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.
Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.
Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.
When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.
Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.
And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.
Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.
When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.
Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.
And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.
Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”
Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”
You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”
“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”
The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”
“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”
Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”
You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”
You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”
He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”
You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.
“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.
If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.
“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.
Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.
XxXx
Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.
Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.
“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.
The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.
“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.
But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”
“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.
“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”
You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.
“You forgot your bag.” He observed.
Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”
“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.
“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”
If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.
Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.
You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.
“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”
He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”
His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.
Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?
Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.
He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?
“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.
Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.
A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”
“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.
Subtle.
Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.
What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.
And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.
So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.
Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.
Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.
Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over two years of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.
So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over him.
You know, simple.
The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.
Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.
Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.
He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?
Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.
"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.
You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.
Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.
It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.
Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.
"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.
It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.
You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.
He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.
Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.
Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.
Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.
Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.
He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.
Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.
Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.
Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remains.
Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”
Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!
He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"
Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.
You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.
Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.
"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.
"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.
"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.
He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."
You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.
Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.
He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”
You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.
"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.
You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.
The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.
You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.
"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"
"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.
You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."
Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.
Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.
And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.
And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.
XxXx
Next Chapter
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starrystevie · 9 months
Text
rating: mature; 18+ only | cross posted on ao3 here
"truth or dare?"
steve's looking at eddie expectantly while he waits for his answer, his eyes wide and cheeks pushed up from the grin pulling at his lips. he's shirtless from past dares and eddie's trying hard to not look at the hair covering his chest, to not look at the way his scars have faded into a pretty dusty pink, to not look at the flexed muscles in his arm from where it's slung over the back of the couch and he's definitely not looking at the way the movement pulls his pec up.
they aren't high enough for this, not drunk enough for it either, but he feels intoxicated. maybe that's just what being around steve harrington at 2am does to him. it makes him stupid.
"...truth?"
steve's grin grows wide enough to challenge even the cheshire cat and eddie knows that truth was the wrong choice. see? stupid.
the hand on the back of the couch tightens and eddie can feel the way it pulls the cushion under his back, the fabric creasing against his shoulder blade. steve's leaning in a tiny bit closer, same wild grin on his face, and eddie feels himself stop breathing. he tries to remain calm, tries to keep an even expression on his face, but when steve harrington is in his presence, it's harder than it seems.
"okay... truth," steve's close enough that eddie can see the specks of green in his eyes and he tries to focus on that instead of how he can almost feel breaths that aren't his own on his lips.
"what's your biggest turn on?"
whatever breath eddie attempts to suck in gets stuck in his throat and turns into a cough forcing steve to pull away cackling. he isn't in eddie's face anymore but he can still feel him, can still sense the barely there exhale on his face, can still only see steve green behind his eyelids.
"what the fuck, dude?!" is all he can get out. his palms are sweaty so he rubs them furiously over his jeans, scowling at his fingers when they get stuck in the small rips.
steve is laughing at the other end of the couch but his arm is still settled over the back of it, creating the most delicious tension on his chest. he looks broad like this, broader than eddie's really ever seen him. and with his hand across the couch and his legs opened just slightly and his bare chest on display and his bright white teeth glinting in the dim moonlight he looks-
he's hot.
he looks like the old steve, all cock-sure and suave, like he knows he can get absolutely whatever he wants. it does eddie's head in. is he what steve wants? is he why steve looks like he could jump on anything and everything that came his way? is he why steve thought he could ask him about his turn ons as easy as if he was asking about the weather?
"i don't have-"
"oh bullshit," steve says with a flick of his free hand. "everyone has one, man. what gets you all hot and bothered?"
eddie tilts his head up with a scoff. "why do you want to know?"
"consider it your average every day bonding." he says it like it's obvious, like all guys do when they sit around and play sleepover games like they're kids again is talk about what they like in bed.
but eddie's drunk on steve in 2am moonlight and can't help himself for giving him everything.
"i like dirty talk."
he'd always give steve everything.
steve's grin shifts into something borderline feral that has eddie vibrating under his skin. he moves his hips and settles back into the arm of the couch, leveling eddie with his gaze. his eyes are heavy when they look at him and eddie feels glued to the spot.
"oh yeah?" steve's inflection sounds exactly like what eddie craves for and he's afraid that he's shown all his cards already if steve was able to pick up on it that fast. "like what?"
he rolls his eyes if only so that he can take them away from watching steve's muscles contorting as he shifts on the couch. it's not hard to get eddie in the mood, that's the embarrassing thing. his limited experience before he learned about alternate dimensions and things living under hawkins didn't exactly help his case. he didn't exactly have guys throwing themselves at him as a social pariah covered in still healing scars, either.
so steve looking at him with those eyes and that grin and without a shirt for god's sake? not helpful.
"i don't know, i just-" his mind supplies images that gets his cock stirring. a certain king of hawkins under him or on top of him or right behind him whispering things in his ear that he had never really thought about before.
"-i just like hearing the effect i have on them, i guess."
and then without warning steve is moving. he's up on his hands and knees and is leaning into eddie's personal space again, his face close enough to eddie's that he can see that damn green in his eyes again.
there's still a bit of space between then but not nearly enough that eddie isn't effected by it. steve's pinkie is brushing his thigh and his cock that was already interested just thinking about the sounds steve could make is stirring even more awake under his gaze.
"you like hearing you're doing good?" steve questions. eddie sighs. "you like all the moans and stuff?"
all eddie can do is nod, afraid that if he speaks that he'll do something embarrassing like say he wants to pull whatever sound out of steve that he'd let him. suddenly, steve's pulling away minutely to get his mouth close to eddie's ear, breath coming out in puffs against his skin.
"oh fuck," steve huffs out, voice pitched high and dainty. feminine. "oh, oh eddie, it's so good."
eddie grips his hands onto his knees like they're the only thing keeping here on planet earth as steve moans in his ear. his cock is starting to grow, whatever blood that was left in his head heading south fast and it's leaving him dizzy. from up close, he's sure steve can see what he's doing if he was to look down. he's wearing sweatpants that don't exactly hide anything, after all.
the sounds steve are making are all light and pretty like he's going off of his own experience and eddie has the fleeting thought that it's what girls sound like under him. that some girl has been pressing up close to steve's chest and had her pretty pink lips up close to his ear as he fucked her into the mattress. but oh, if eddie had the courage he'd tell him. tell him that he doesn't want to hear some girl, some stranger.
he wants to hear steve.
"you gonna take care of that?" steve's voice is back to somewhat normal, a bit raspy and deep, and it floods through eddie's veins like molten lava. he doesn't remember closing his eyes but he peels them open and turns his head to look at steve. he follows his gaze and sees that they're both looking at how turned on eddie is. he doesn't have enough blood left in his cheeks to blush but he would if he could.
"steve, that's wei-"
a hand wrapping over his knee stops him mid sentence. "not weird. do it. i want you to."
eddie gulps even though his throat feels drier than it's ever been. steve's fingers tighten and he jerks his chin up to urge him on and fuck, he knew he'd always give steve whatever he wanted.
"can you just," eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth as he drops his hand to his waistband, fingers teasing under the fabric. "sound like you, please?"
the silence feels palpable. he can feel every place that his clothes are touching him, every place that steve is touching him, every place his breath has fallen on him that evening. he has half a mind to take it back and tell him he was joking, to pretend like he's some girl again and eddie could get off on that, too. he could at least try, especially if it was steve.
but then- "eddie, fuck."
steve's mouth is close to his ear again, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear as he groans into it. his voice is pitched deep but it's definitely undeniably steve. he shifts onto his knees so he can drape his arm behind eddie once more. not touching, but there and as eddie's hand slips under the fabric to grip at his cock, they both let out a sigh.
"yeah, there you go. gonna touch yourself for me, hmm?"
"shit," eddie groans out as his hand trails over his weeping cock. he brings his thumb up to gather a bit of the precome that's dribbled out of the top and rubs it between his fingers before gliding them down his length. steve's panting these little sounds into his ear that mirror eddie's own moans. when he sighs, steve sighs, when he whines, steve whines.
it's like he's touching himself to get steve off, too, and isn't that something to think about? them laying side by side with each other's dicks in their hands, stroking just how the other likes to get them off. he'd watch steve's face, speed up when his eyes open and slow down when he's close. he'd buck his hips into steve's steady grip, swallow the moans he pulls out of him so they echo through his body. it'd be heaven on a mattress or hardwood floor or ratty couch in a ratty trailer.
"got me all hard in my jeans, eddie." steve breathes out and eddie can't see is he's lying or not but it sounds true and eddie briefly wonders if steve should go into porn with those acting skills. "the way you look with your hand in your pants, jesus, it's a sin. all flushed and hot and, god-"
if steve keeps it up, eddie is going to be done way faster than he wants to be. his hand speeds up when steve lets out a particularly loud moan in his ear and then there's a brush of denim against his arm and wow, steve was in fact not lying. his hips keep jumping up to get pressure against eddie's forearm and the long line of steve's cock is teasing him.
"steve," he whines out, "are you..."
"of course i am," he laughs against eddie's ear before sneaking a tiny kiss to his temple. "you're so fucking hot, dude. been wanting to do this for too long. too long, oh my god."
his hand that was on eddie thigh moves up to unbutton his pants and slides under his own waistband and eddie takes a moment to slow his strokes as he looks up at steve. he looks like a greek god in grungy trailer lighting, chest shimmering with sweat and puffing with heavy breaths. he's grinning down at eddie and he feels like he could float away.
"think i'm hot, stevie?" he says on a shuddering breath as he hits a spot on his cock that he immediately goes to find again. steve smirks before his eyes roll back as he gets a hand on his own dick.
"so hot, so fucking-"
he's cut off by a moan and eddie sends up a silent thank you to the universe that they have the trailer to themselves for the next few days because eddie needs to pull more of those out of him. he needs steve on his back and on his cock and in his mouth and on his fingers and every which way he'll let him have him if it means he gets to hear more of that.
"gonna get my mouth on you soon enough, gotta know what you taste like. gonna get you down my fucking throat..."
steve's brought his mouth back down to eddie's ear and is grunting like he's running the race of a lifetime while he tells eddie what he wants to do him. says truths of his own outside of the now forgotten game, secrets laced with some of the most romantic things eddie's ever been told. tells him how pretty he is, how good he is, how he's imagining eddie's fingers on his cock and on his skin and how he's close, close, close.
knowing he's effecting steve this much, knowing he has this hold on him that he thought was one sided, knowing that he's racing through steve's veins like he's racing through eddie's, it's too much.
"i'm... fuck- i'm gonna," eddie's hand speeds up and the hand on the back of the couch comes up to tangle in his hair. there's a pressure pulling him back until he's looking at the ceiling for a second until all he can see is steve and the flecks of green he's come to love.
"it's okay, i've got you, come on. let me just-"
their first kiss is shared on a ratty couch in a ratty trailer with their hands in their pants and come covering their fingers. eddie's mouth is open enough that he's moaning into steve's and the hand on the back of his head is twitching while he comes. they pull apart enough that eddie can hear what they sound like as they work through their orgasms together, can hear what steve sounds like as he works himself down.
he's going to get that on a record someday, he tells himself. it'll go platinum.
and just as quick as it started, it's over. only this time steve's snuggling up next to him and using his clean hand to stroke over the exposed skin on eddie's stomach instead of returning to the opposite end of the couch. their chests are heaving as they try and regain their composure and it feels like bliss until steve laughs.
it's like an ice bucket being poured over him and he wishes he didn't love hearing steve so much because he's afraid that the laugh will haunt his memories for ages to come. steve must feel him freeze up because the hand on his stomach circles around his waist and pulls him even closer so he can nuzzle his face into eddie's chest. it starts to settle the nerves that had wound themselves around his insides.
"i don't know if you could tell," he starts, voice muffled against eddie's flannel. "but i've been wanting to do that, this, for ages."
eddie snorts. "you've wanted to make me jizz in my pants for ages? really? low standards even for you."
steve snorts out a laugh in return. "no, you idiot. i've wanted to be able to do this for ages."
he tilts his head up and places a featherlight kiss to eddie's lips. it's soft, it's sweet, it's the opposite of everything that happened not two minutes prior. eddie feels a smile tugging at his mouth and pulls back to see steve smiling, too.
"does this mean..."
there's no words, no definition that eddie can put to the events of the night that don't sound silly or juvenile. but then he sees steve settle back down, pressing a kiss to right over his heart before laying his head down where it was.
"... that we're doing that again? absolutely. just maybe in a bed next time."
and maybe they don't need a label. maybe all they need is laying on a couch with come cooling in their pants and echoes of what just happened bouncing off the trailer walls. maybe all they need is a promise of later sealed with a kiss and their heartbeats in synch.
and maybe, just maybe, they'll play truth or dare again.
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markiemelon · 20 days
Text
ordinary
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fluff ─ ੈ♡˳ no warnings! ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
idol!jaehyun x gn!reader
this one’s for all my delulus out there!
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{6:33pm} ♡‧₊˚ ↴
it wasn’t his job that made him ordinary, it wasn’t his talent, and it certainly wasn’t his looks.. but it was the little things he did, like wanting to go to the convenience store with you at 2am even after a long day of photoshoots and promotions.
it’s starting to get colder, and leaves are turning brown again. just like it was when you met him. this time of year makes you remember the first time you crossed paths.
you were working at a cafe, your first day, first job. he, of all people, walked in. you felt your heart stop and start again. of course you knew who he was, but you didn’t dare say anything. you kindly welcomed him, holding back the urge to ask for a picture or an autograph.. you were too shy to do anything like that.
you’ll never forget his order. it still hasn’t changed. you called it out. “extra hot caramel macchiato, two pumps hazelnut, extra whipped cream.”
he was off to the side of the counter, jotting something down on piece of paper. his head perked up at your call, and he smiled.
he payed in cash, and managed to slip something in with it. a little folded up sticky note wedged in between the bills. you wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t slipped out and fallen onto the floor. “oh, did something fall out of—”
“don’t worry. that’s for you.” he interjected, taking the change you held out for him in your hand. “well thanks. have a nice day.” he nodded on his way out.
after watching him exit in awe, you picked up the note. a string of digits was written across it in really poor handwriting. it read ‘text me?’ but it actually looked more like ‘taxi man’
but you couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. seeing him in person was enough to shake you up, but for him to hit on you? you got a least 4 orders wrong after that.
when you finally got home, you were hesitant to type the number into your phone. did he really mean to give it to you? that’s dangerous… for all he knows, you could be a sasaeng.
you ignored any doubts and just did it anyway. you had no idea what to say. not wanting to freak him out or act like a crazy fan, you went with something simple.
hi are you the guy from earlier? caramel macchiato?
shortly after you sent it, you got a response.
yeah that’s me
you stared at your screen expressionless, trying to process what was going on. and then another text came through.
sorry that note was so sloppy. actually i was worried you wouldn’t be able to read it
im jaehyun by the way. could i get your name?
all you could do was laugh. it was unbelievable.
surprisingly, you slept pretty well that night. but you woke up a little disappointed, thinking you’d just woken from the best dream ever. you picked up your phone to check the time only to see a message from a number that had yet to be saved as a contact.
you working today?
you took a second to notice the messages above it, where you exchanged names. your heart fluttered, but then it dropped. it was already noon and jaehyun’s text is what reminded you that you had a shift at 1:15. your thumbs slammed against your keyboard to respond.
yes i totally forgot
you pulled yourself together in like 10 minutes. hair kinda messy, eye bags on fleek, you head out. you were in such a hurry, it didnt occur to you to check if he responded.
nice. i’ll see you there
but you left him on delivered.
you made it just on time. you reached for the door handle but someone else beat you to it. a familiar voice spoke. “here, i can get that.”
you weren’t expecting to see jaehyun right beside you, and you obviously weren’t used to seeing his face up close and personal. “oh it’s you-” your hands instinctively covered your mouth in surprise. “what are you doing here?” you avoided looking directly at him as you made your way inside.
he followed behind you. “i have a day off.. and i was craving coffee.” you rubbed your cold hands together. “is that so?” heading to the back to put your things down, you tried hard not to show how nervous you were.
you came back out with an apron, and you made sure to fix your hair up a bit. jaehyun was standing on the other side of the counter like he was ready to place an order, so you had to think of him as any regular customer. “what can i get for you today, sir?”
“can i get a… date with you?”
at that point, it had started to sink in. that you actually had a shot with this guy.
“sir, that’s.. not on the menu.” you teased with a sudden confidence, looking him in the eye.
yes, this was jeong jaehyun. but at the end of the day, he was still a man. and like any man, you wouldn’t let him pull you so easily.
“it’s not?” he answered, his gaze lingering on you so naturally. “hmm…” with a quick scan of the menu, he continued. “a caramel macchiato is fine, then.”
one thing led to another, and the untouchable superstar jaehyun you couldn’t believe was real, was now the annoying jaehyun who refused to leave your home.
the unreachable jaehyun who travels the world, performing at sold out stadiums, is still the jaehyun who sleeps through his alarms, and sings in the shower…
now you know he’s not unreachable or untouchable, but it was still hard for you to understand how such a special person… could really be so ordinary.
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thank you for reading 🌱 reqs always open
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popamolly · 2 months
Text
‘INTERNAL REDEMPTION’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
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summary. (y/n) continues to spy on Lucifer, preying on the little vulnerability that allows he allows (y/n) to see. Unbeknownst to both of them there is something blossoming with each conversation and shared stolen glance.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, eventual smut, mention of death, slow burn, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder, slow burn, 18+ minors dni
author’s note. italics is for a flashback, just wanted to let everyone know if that isn’t made clear in the text, i finished this up at like 2am. enjoy sinners &lt;3
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Lucifer held you captive with his words for hours. Explaining everything you wanted to know about him and his army of ducks. That wall was slowly crumbling as was his resolve. Though that seemed to be in the back of your mind as you found yourself intrigued by him and his story— ultimately finding out that the King of Hell was actually quite charming in his way.
“So these ducks are a manifestation of sinners,” You look toward him as if to confirm his words and when Lucifer nodded you continued, “Every sinner in Hell? No wonder you have so many.”
“And this isn’t even half of it,” Lucifer smiles proudly as he hops up from his chair, gesturing toward the rubber duck piles that almost reached the ceiling, “There are more at my amusement park.”
“I see, I guess I am just trying to understand why ducks of all things?”
“Spiritual progression? Rebirth? New beginnings?” Lucifer taps his chin in thought before shrugging, “A mere duck can mean a lot of different things that’s why, plus they are cuuuuteee!”
You laugh, a real genuine laugh, which was a sound you haven’t made in a long while. The King wasn’t so bad once you got know him. If anything he was an ideal king that you would read stories about. You wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk for hours more.
“What?” Lucifer got a bit self conscious, realizing that his excitement might have came off a bit nerdy or childish, “It’s silly isn’t it?”
You shake your head to ease his insecurities with a lopsided smile, “No, I just had this version of you in my head and seeing you now, in person..it's completely changed now that I have met you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.” Lucifer chuckles. He fiddling with the top of his cane as if he was scared to meet your gaze.
“It is.” And for a moment you forgot why you were here. If you had to chose between the V’s and Lucifer when it came to deciding Hell’s fate, Lucifer would win by a landslide— but Lucifer wasn’t the one who owned your soul, “Tell me more about Charlie. Your face lights up whenever you speak of her.”
“She is my pride and joy!” Lucifer boasts proudly, “She has this whole Hotel thing going on apparently. I’ve been poppin’ in here and there to help her ya know, being an awesome dad and whatnot.”
“And what of this hotel?” You ask, leaning a bit closer to Lucifer as if he would tell you a secret, “Does she really believe that she can redeem sinners?”
“Yes, she…she does,” Lucifer sighs after a moment, turning away from you to run his fingers through his golden hair. A heavy weight clearly on his shoulders as he thought of his daughter and her fairytale like dreams for Hell. It hurt his heart to know that he couldn’t do more for her. He knew he could make whatever dream of hers come true except for the one she wanted most. This was a whole other thing entirely. This was something between Hell and Earth and the lines have always been blurred— he would never be able to cross it even he wanted to.
“You don’t sound too sure..” You chose your words carefully. There was a tiny crack in his wall of vulnerability and you wanted to crack it some more, “Do you doubt Charlie?”
“No no no! Pfffft, Of course not!” Lucifer quickly says before sighing in defeat, raking his fingers through his blonde hair, “I don’t doubt her..I just— I don’t think she understands the weight of what she is trying to do. I just l don’t want her to end up hurt over this.”
“If all else fails then she will know that you were there for her,” You say, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “All you have to do is believe in her, even if you don’t believe in her dreams.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Lucifer turned to look at you. A split moment in time where the world seemed to stop and it was just you and him. Your words might have came from your own selfish need to stay on Valentino’s good side but your kindness remained true. It became clear to you that the King was nothing more than a prideful man that was trying his best. Not only for his daughter but himself and for Hell. In the short time that you knew him it was something that you quickly learned to admire, “Yes, well,” Lucifer clears his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly under your intense gaze, “Thank you for the company. It was nice to…open up a bit.”
“Of course, your majesty,” You nod, taking that as your cue to leave the King to his Kingly duties as the time you two spent together had made day turn to night in an instant, “I will leave you to your duties.”
“Right! My duties! I am a very very busy man! So many souls to collect, tons of sinners to kill, people to torture, the list just goes on…haha!” Lucifer wanted to jump out of his own skin and slap himself silly. Curse him for his rambling, why did he even feel the need to impress you? A lowly sinner that meant absolutely nothing to him.
“if you ever need a friend or,” Your fingertips grazes the doorknob to his bedchambers with the tray of empty plates in the other arm, “…A listening ear, you always call upon me.” Offering one last smile in the King's direction, you slip out into the hall, closing the door behind you softly.
Lucifer couldn’t help but feel how his room suddenly felt cold now that your warm presence was gone. There was a certain emptiness in the air that reminded him he was truly lonely. \
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“So the King of Hell’s daughter wasn’t joking about the redemption of sinners,” Vox sneers over the tiny screen of the voxtech watch he gave you, “And whatever the reason for the Radio Demon to be by Charlie’s side, it surely only benefits him.” The watch screen slightly glitches from Vox laughing, “Redemption of sinners?! How stupid is that?”
“It could be possible,” You say, making the watch on your wrist glitch some more.
“If I wanted your opinion bitch, I would ask for it!” The static noise was starting to ring in your ears, its material overheating in the palm of your hand, “Whatever the case is, I need you sucking Lucifer’s dick by next week if we are going to get any valuable information out of him, do you understand me?”
You bit down on your bottom lip, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes from feeling guilty about getting close to Lucifer under such circumstances. Your paths should have never even crossed. You both might be in hell but you were in entirely different worlds. There was this unspoken connection you two shared the moment your eyes met and it was just enough to get the guilt eating away at you.
“Or do I have to tell Valentino that his favorite obedient girl is being defiant?”
“No, I—”
“Good, I’m so glad we have an understanding. Now go get me some actually good information I can fucking use!” With that Vox hung up the call, making you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You toss the watch to the floor angrily, dropping your head into your hands. This was all just a stupid pointless mission. One that had no satisfying end or results because there was nothing to say. There was nothing to report back. The King, Charlie, and those around him was plotting to do more good than harm.
You leaned over to turn the faucet off, stopping the hot water from filling the porcelain tub completely after nearly overflowing it from being too lost in your thoughts.
Slowly, you began to slip out of your clothes, neatly folding them and putting them aside before stepping into the hot water, the stinging pain hardly anything you would flinch from. That stinging pain felt good, it reminded you that you were present in the moment even when you wanted nothing more than to just to disappear.
Closing your eyes to relax, you sink deeper and deeper into the water until you felt your mind slowly drift elsewhere.
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With a melodic hum, you turned the page to your book, intrigued by the ancient text and words of God. Surrounding you were scrolls and other relics that you stole from the council’s library, eager to learn more about God and his mysterious ways. It was all you could do in Heaven after all, live blissfully but you were bored of that. Instead of thriving off the golden city’s pleasures you always found your head in a book, a simply pleasure that you’ve grown to love.
“Boo!” Lucifer suddenly pops down in front of you. Startled, you toss your book up, which he catches with ease, “What ya reading?”
“God’s texts Lulu, what else?” You try to grab your book from him but he holds it above your head, slowly inching upward with the help of his wings to show that he was taller than you. He wasn’t but you’d like to humor him every now and again, “Lucifer! Give it back!”
“Wouldn’t you much rather see the gift I brought you instead of reading a boring book?” Lucifer wiggled his eyebrows in jest, an amused smile tugging at his lips.
“A Gift?” You stopped jumping for your book then, your wings tucked back into you with a curious glint in your eyes. Lucifer gave dramatic pause before presenting you a green apple. He tossed it to you and you caught it in your delicate hands, smiling at the kind gesture. “An apple, how romantic.”
“Is it not to your liking?” Lucifer played along with your teasing remark, circling around you as he playfully grabs and twist your hair around his fingers in such a loving way that it had your heartbeat quickening and you breath falling short, "I thought I'd give you something a little bit more nontraditional."
It took everything in your power not to swoon over a damn apple because it wasn't just an apple to you. Lucifer would go out of his way to bring you things whenever you two would meet up at your secret spot under a new sprouting tree. There was something sparking between you two and you weren't sure how long you would be able to avoid it as you were a hopeless romantic. Lucifer had such a way with words that whenever he spoke it was if he was building palaces- cathedrals even. Between that and that charming warm smile, you knew you wouldn't be able to deny your feelings for much longer but until he admitted it first you weren't going to say anything. Call it stubbornness but you simply didn't want to be mistaken and absolutely sure that your feelings for him were one hundred percent reciprocated.
"Next time get a red apple," You said, finding that hidden resolve within you once again as you smirked at him, "They're sweeter."
"Are they now?" Lucifer stopped circling you to stand only inches apart from your face. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your lips. A ball of anticipation formed at the base of your stomach, making you feel as though you have swallowed butterflies, "(Y/N).." The angel in front of you swallowed a lump in his throat, his own body betraying him as he backs you up against the tree, lips only barely touching one another, "Can I kiss you?"
You were breathless. Lucifer had officially sucked out all the air from your lungs- or so it felt like, "Yes." And with your consent, Lucifer crashed his lips to yours passionately. He invaded your mouth and all of your senses. You melted into him, relaxing against his body as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. It was as if fireworks went off in your head. Even the sound of distant ringing of the bells had you questioning if it was truly meant to be.
You suddenly pulled away from Lucifer, "Bells.."
Lucifer blinks at you dreamily, "You hear them too? It's perfect."
"No, Lucifer, the bells! I'm late for afternoon prayer!" You shove him out the way and continue collecting your things. You have been late to afternoon prayer for the past two weeks and were already walking on a thin line with the Seraphims, you couldn't afford to be late again, "I have to go."
Lucifer pulls you back to him with a slight frown, "So soon? But this might be our last time together for awhile. I have that council meeting today."
"For what? Don't tell me this about your dreams and aspirations?" By the way Lucifer looked away from you you knew it was exactly that, "You can't bring that to the council members, they will see it as a threat to everything they have built."
"And have you ever asked yourself why that is? They should embrace change, not run away from it." Lucifer says, his facial expression serious, "I can prove to them that change is positive, something good!"
You shake your head, "Don't be a fool Lucifer."
"Why can't you just support this? Support me? Is change so bad?!"
"If it's going to cost you your life Lucifer, then I can't support it." You place your free hand on his check. The pad of your thumb grazing his soft skin comfortingly, "I won't support you in this."
Silence falls over you two and for a moment you thought that your friend had finally seen through to reason but it was the exact opposite. Your heart broke and you knew that your support was the one thing he ever wanted from you and you denied him that. There was this quiet heartbreak you felt in your chest, realizing that you had lost not only your lover but your friend as well.
Lucifer's hand comes up to grip your wrist, gently pulling you away from him, "With or without you, I will do this. I will show them. Show everyone." You could only watch as he turns from you and flies away, leaving you to be covered by his shadow and retreating back.
"That pride of yours," You whispered, hands clenched tightly into fist at your sides as you felt tears leave your eyes, "Will be your downfall, Lucifer."
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You sat up in the water suddenly, gasping for air as you felt someone violently shake you. You sputtered and coughed up what felt like a lung, water trickled down and into your eyes making your vision blurry for a few seconds before you could blink them away to focus on the person who was kneeled next to the tub, concerned clearly etched across their face as they looked at you. You blinked away the water, the blurry figure now forming into none other than Lysandra.
"Goodness, dear! Do you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep in the bath?" Rushing to grab a towel that was hanging on a rack, Lysandra lets you put all of your weight on her as she helps you out the tub, wrapping the fuzzy warm towel around your nude body, "You're lucky I saw the water coming from under the door! What on earth were you thinking?" "I had the strangest dream.." You start to say, breathless and panting but Lysandra shushes you, helping you dry off and get warm as she leads you out the bathroom, fully intending on not leaving your side for the rest of the night.
"Hush, your mind must be in shambles poor thing," The elderly woman leads you back into your bedroom, "A nice cup of calming tea should do the trick. Now stay here and don't move."
You were still in shock to even register your current reality anymore. That dream you had felt too real, almost as if it had just happened. Why was Lucifer in it? Why were you an Angel? Why were you in heaven? You dismissed it as nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. This only happened because of your growing connection to Lucifer. It was nothing of importance right? Dreams come from imagination- but there was a part of your mind that knew that dreams could also stem from memories.
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