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#so unfortunately. unfortunately. it's just
citrusinicake · 9 hours
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in another universe
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If It All Fell (6)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: Angst, PINING
a/n: Sorryyyy for the wait <3 As a lot of you know I have been going through it lately, but I really enjoyed writing this and hope to post more immediately 🤜. Let me know what you think :))
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 5 ☁
Series Masterlist
~~
Day Court was immeasurably beautiful—with all of its pristine columns reflecting orange light. Marble flooring shone with distorted images of acrylic brush strokes that hung on granite walls. Fountains billowed at the mouth of every doorway, sculpted fixtures at their bases. Warm wind kissed your skin and glistening waters welcomed you and Day Court was so incredibly beautiful. 
You were sure, if given the chance, you would think the same of its residents. 
Unfortunately, you were not given the chance to come to that conclusion. 
“The High Lord is in a meeting. He sends his apologies for not meeting you upon your arrival—the merchants of Day can get a bit rowdy,” the servant laughed. “I can show you to your rooms in the meantime.”
“Rooms?” Rhysand posed. You attempted to look over Azriel’s wing to gauge the conversation, but Cassian took another step to the side, halting your movement. 
“Yes, Helion informed us that the four of you would be here, so we prepared four rooms. If that’s not—”
“Three rooms will suffice, thank you,” your High Lord drawled. 
The servant squeaked, and you were sure if you could see her, her nerves would be evident. “Of—of course, High Lord. I assume Lady Y/n will be with—”
“We will deal with the division of our rooms on our own. Thank you…” 
“Amira,” the servant offered. “My name is Amira. I will be attending to you, Lady Y/n, during your time here.” 
You knocked your head to the side, brushing Cassian’s bicep as he stood beside you. You barely caught Amira’s mousey brown hair before the membrane of a wing flushed out and pushed you back. 
“She doesn’t need an attendant,” Azriel bit out, misplaced malice creating tension in the hall.
“Oh, it’s okay, I—” 
Apparently, not even your voice was allowed to be heard. Rhysand cut you off. “No attendant,” he confirmed, after sending his spymaster a sidelong glance laced with reproach. “No servants in our rooms, either. We are rather private, you understand.”
A pause. 
You wished you could see anyone’s expression. 
From beside you, Cassian offered you a pity smile, nudging you with his elbow in an act of comfort. 
“Anything you require,” Amira shakily responded. “Shall I walk you back, then? Just to show you where you will be staying?” 
“Lead the way.” 
Azriel immediately stepped back, his shadows scrambling past him to enclose you in dim light. You felt his presence, firm and tall, looming at your back as you took the first few steps down the hall. 
This all felt entirely misplaced, with the bleakness of your group extinguishing some of the vibrance of the court you walked through. Cassian kept close to your side, some of Azriel’s shadows drifting off and cloaking the red glow on his hands and chest. Rhys, ever the High Lord, took up the front, footsteps light but purposeful. 
Everyone looked grim. 
Except for you. 
This court held no negative connotations for you, no malicious undertones that impacted the rest of your family. It was simply beautiful, and your family was simply cloistering you. 
But you agreed to this; anything to make them feel better. 
To make Azriel feel better. 
You turned your head to the side as you walked, catching the shadowsinger in your peripheral. Tense, on-guard, unyielding; Azriel’s jaw was set in a firm clench, but it was different from what you were used to. When he was tense at home, it was almost out of… anticipation? Trepidation? 
Here though… here his posture was derived from rage. From practiced, honed fury. 
You turned your head away before you attempted to fix it, to comfort him. He wanted to be angry, told you as much before he winnowed you to Day in a flurry of his shadows. 
I’m going to be different, he had told you, I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt. 
The fear in his eyes had melted away in the Day Court sun; the second your feet landed on meticulously carved cobblestone, Azriel was no longer just your friend. 
Amira led you to three doors along a wall, mumbled a few parting words, and bowed away before anyone could send her a second glance. You attempted to offer her a reassuring smile amidst her flee, but Azriel’s shadows were too dense. A hand on your back led you into a room and Amira was gone. 
“That went well,” Cassian breathed, a long sigh punctuating his descent into a loveseat by the bed. “She didn’t look terrified at all.” 
The bedroom door clicked shut. Rhys raised his brows. “She’ll thank us later.” The High Lord’s eyes drifted to the shadowsinger sulking by your side. “This isn’t exactly a leisurely visit.” 
Your gaze shot around the room in the following lapse of silence, analyzing the tense nature of each male. The air felt stagnant and stiff, the light somehow dimmer even with the open windows, and you weren’t sure if your voice would make it worse or ease some of the pressing emotions. 
Rhys took a seat in a chair by the door, and you decided speaking was better than leaning into the uncomfortable silence. 
“It’s so beautiful here,” you began, playing with your fingers, second-guessing your decision to stand. Azriel remained motionless at your side. “The sun feels different somehow. Brighter, maybe?” 
“The skies have an affinity for their namesake in the solar courts,” Rhys offered kindly. 
You hummed, rolling onto your toes and then rocking back on your heels. “I suppose that makes sense. The nights are incredible back home.” 
The use of that word—home—did not go unnoticed by the group. Not by you and certainly not by the male standing guard at your side. The replacement of the word had been relatively common since you woke up. 
Here in Velaris, there is…. 
When you came back here all those years ago…
Let’s go back to the house…
Never home.
But being in Day—being away from Velaris—just solidified what you already assumed. Velaris was your home. You were sick of letting your family dance around that truth. 
~~
“Mother above, I was sure I would never see you again,” a strange voice tore your attention from Cassian’s vivid retelling of your first time flying with him, and although it was an interesting story, the man before you was even more enticing. 
With deep skin and an even deeper smile, white linen billowed around his confident figure. The man appeared to glisten as he walked toward your small group, golden sandals trailing up bronze calves. Even the air around him seemed to glow. 
Enticing didn’t seem to be the correct word. 
You’d been directed into a rather large study after a brief lunch and a “tour” of the grounds that only included the wing you were staying in. Rhys had chalked it up to Helion stalling for time. You’d tried to coax a more comprehensive tour out of the guard leading you around, but a sharp look from Azriel was enough to put that conversation to rest. 
“You look just as you did. Perhaps a bit gaunt but…” The man—Helion, you’d deduced—trailed off when the whisper of a shadow trailed at his neck. “I am Helion,” he smiled. “You have known me for many years. In love with me, as most are. But, alas, it is not fated.” 
Some of your awe shifted to shock. “I am—I’m sorry, I am in love with you?” 
In front of you, Cassian let out a long breath and fanned his wings out before letting them hang behind his chair. You sat straighter in your own seat, mortification creeping into your chest at the small laugh Rhys let slip across the room. What set your mouth into its flurry, however, was the raised brow you received from Helion. 
“I didn’t mean that to offend. I mean—what I meant was just that… Well, no one said I had a lover or even mentioned you in that way so it came as a shock. But I presume there is much about myself I have yet to learn so… you are a very beautiful man and I’m sure—” 
“Y/n, it’s alright,” came Azriel’s soothing voice from beside you, his scarred fingers pushing hair behind your ear halting your apologies. “He was only joking.” A pointed look in the High Lord’s direction. “He does that from time to time, unfortunately.” 
More mortification made an appearance. 
“Oh.” 
Helion’s raised brow had morphed into an unsure expression at some point amidst your rambling. “When they said you had no memory… You will have to excuse me, y/n. I assumed you’d have more… context. Especially with your abilities.” 
“We told you she remembered nothing and had no access to her magic,” Azriel defended, his fingers dropping to rest beside your thighs. 
“Well, yes, but often when magic tampers with the mind, the personality remains intact. Like a muscle memory.” 
“Oh, her personality is there,” Cassian retorted, a bittersweet smirk playing at his lips. “Just not when she’s met you five seconds ago and you’re revealing fake truths. Sarcasm doesn’t often work with strangers.” 
Helion nodded grimly, turning back to you. “I apologize.” 
“It’s really alright,” you comforted, attempting to calm some of the twisted guilt marring the High Lord’s face. “They worry too much. Right now everything I do is without context and I find myself embarrassed more often than not. It’s not your fault.” 
Helion did not look convinced or reassured. His eyes simply traveled to the corners of your face and tracked down to the patterns Azriel was drawing into the skirts of your dress. 
“Do you see now why we needed to come to you,” Rhys chimed in from above his crossed arms. 
Helion hummed. “Yes. Shall I get started then?” 
The room shuffled. You were informed that Helion had to be touching your head to assess the injury—unlike Rhys’s assessment—so you were sat atop a table to give him better access. Azriel followed by your side, his front pressed against the table, Cassian stood his ground behind Helion, and Rhys took up residence on your other side. 
“In Day, we have a type of healing that extends to magical wards and enchantments, was that explained to you?” Helion asked, kind eyes never leaving yours. Too kind—uncertain and full of reproach.
“Yes, they said maybe the witch put something in my mind. Like a blockage.” 
“Precisely. And I was informed about Rhysand’s unsuccessful attempt at entering your mind. That could be due to a spell, which is why I would be more useful.”
Rhys scoffed. 
You let a smile tug at your lips, but it was quickly extinguished when you considered the outcome of this process. “Will it feel the same? What you’re doing and what Rhys did?” 
You could almost hear the way Azriel ground his jaw. 
Helion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “It will feel different. I am not in the business of thoughts or memories. I won’t be able to access anything other than any inflictions you may have.” 
“So it won’t hurt?” 
“I cannot promise anything.” 
The table beneath you shifted an inch, just to be caught by hands glowing with blue light.
I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.
“Still sure you can’t just beat the crap out of whatever’s going on in my head?” you posed to Cassian, tilting your head up to call over Helion’s shoulder. 
The general’s chuckle eased some of the tension in the room. “I would if I could.” 
“Promise?” 
“Always.” 
With a resigned breath, you nodded to Helion. The High Lord’s hands glowed a golden white, he lifted them to your head, and then there was nothing. 
~~
Azriel
If he hadn’t shot his hand out when he did, Azriel was sure your head would have fallen out of Helion’s grasp and plummeted to the floor. 
You were limp. 
Eyes closed, neck bent—completely and utterly limp. 
Azriel took the liberty of tugging on the bond just to make sure you were still alive. He hadn’t done so since you woke up in the forest, remembering the fear in your eyes, but you looked so incredibly lifeless. 
“Helion,” he barked, his worried expression never turning from your face. 
Icy panic gripped his stomach, twisting it with fervor. 
Cassian took a step forward. 
“Why is she unconscious?” his brother gritted out. His tone was an empty threat; he couldn’t hurt a High Lord, and neither could Azriel, but Azriel would do much more for much less. 
His life had become a nightmare. 
Literally. 
On his worst nights, he relived the time you went missing and the subsequent loss of your memories over and over until he woke up screaming. His heart would beat so rapidly it seemed impossible to slow and he would be inconsolable for several minutes, but he always had you there. He would wake up from that nightmare and you would be there. 
He had that dream every night now, and he woke up to the same. The guestroom he occupied didn’t smell like you, and even though you were just on the other side of the wall, he couldn’t make out the sound of your breath enough to let it lull him back to sleep. Nothing you owned was in that room. Everything he owned was still in a pile by the door after Feyre had rushed to clear the evidence of him from your space. But why did that matter? What were books and trinkets and clothes in a room that was otherwise devoid of everything he loved? 
Leaving his room was worse. 
Gods, all he wanted to do was hold you. To really, truly hold you and for you to hold him back. But you looked at him cordially, the same way you looked at Cassian and Rhysand and Mor. 
When he left the house he had to deal with Feyre and Nesta’s constant questioning. Even Amren had taken an interest in your well-being, and while he appreciated the care for his mate, he couldn’t take it. 
He couldn’t take echoing the words, “She’s fine. Healthy. Less pain today,” over and over when he could tell what they really wanted to know were things you wouldn’t share with him. He couldn’t take the fact that you didn’t tell him you loved him—that he would whisper it at your back every time you turned around and you never heard. You were skittish at his touch and shy when you spoke and you were never the first to voice your opinion and he just couldn’t take it. 
With your head in his broken hand, Azriel felt another piece of him crack. 
“I did it.” Rhys broke the silence, a concentration twisting his brow. “Helion and I agreed it was the best way to go about this. It had to be sudden though—unexpected. We needed a moment where her mind was completely unexpecting.”
Cassian cursed. “You couldn’t have told us that before you made it look like she died, Rhysand?” 
“If y/n were dead no one would be standing here right now and you know that.” 
“Still,” Cassian mumbled. “Warn a guy.” 
“I’ve felt this before,” Helion said, shaking his head. “But that’s impossible. Rhysand, you would have—” 
“I would have, yes, but not if it was created through other means. It was a witch, not a daemati.” 
“She could have been both.” 
“Extremely unlikely. Keep going.” 
Azriel watched the way your lashes fluttered, counted the beats of your heart and pretended you knew who he was. 
“What’s happening?” he asked. “You’re both in her head. Talk.” 
“I couldn’t get through the wall myself because it wasn’t her magic,” Rhys explained. “I assumed it was the witch’s, but this signature is too similar. It’s exactly like it was before, just muted.” 
“Like it was before?” Azriel repeated, finally turning his head up. 
Rhysand looked grim. “Almost identical.” 
“That isn’t possible,” the shadowsinger immediately refuted. “I killed that bastard myself. There is no way he could have done anything to her.” 
“Azriel, I think it’s possible that—” 
But Azriel did not let the High Lord of Day finish his thought. “You don’t speak to me about her,” he seethed. “Not when she came to your court and one of your people did this to her. I trusted you with her. I sent my mate here and she has been paying the price for that ever since. This is your fault, so you do not tell me what you think. You tell me what is certain.”
The room went silent, and Helion looked back at you, eyes glazing as he continued his work. 
A strong, steady hand clapped against Azriel’s shoulder. It took Cassian three tugs before Azriel reluctantly let your head go, but only after Rhysand placed his own hand at your back. 
“Look, I get it,” Cassian comforted, hands on his brother's arms. “If this was Nesta I’d probably be tearing this room apart right now. But he’s all we have here. And you know it wasn’t his fault last time. You remember how hard he worked to get her back.” 
Azriel ignored him.
Cassian roughly shook his frame. 
“Hey, you know that. And you know y/n’s going to be pissed at you when she gets her memories back and hears how much of an ass you’re being to Helion. She’s going to be severely pissed if you start a war trying to kill the guy.” 
“If.”
The small smile Cassian was sporting faltered. “What?” 
Azriel finally met his eyes. “If she gets her memories back. It was an if last time and it’s an if again.” 
The two High Lords discussed quietly in the back, their hands still on you. Azriel’s shadows refused to leave your side, weaving through your hair and your clothes and the fingers against your head. 
“Well last time she got them back, didn’t she?” 
“You truly believe that will happen twice? I was praying to the mother for luck the first time, Cassian. She won’t listen again. I guarantee she won’t.” 
“Az…” Cassian trailed off. There was no speech to formulate, not when defeat and resolution were so clear on his brother’s face. 
“She won’t love me a third time.” 
Your cough had Azriel bolting away from his brother’s concerned gaze in an instant. You were no longer in Helion’s grasp, instead leaning against Rhysand’s arm as the High Lord of Day scribbled something in a book.
“Ow.” You rubbed at your head with a pinched expression, squinting up at Azriel as he leaned down. “I think I passed out or something.” 
It was mostly out of hysterics, but a small laugh escaped the spymaster. “Or something.” 
Gods, you sent a spark of joy down the bond and it was all-consuming. You did that from time to time, unintentionally flooding Azriel with whatever emotion you felt the strongest. More than once he had to stop himself from opening his side completely just to relish in the reminisce you offered him. 
“What about this time? Did we figure it out?” you slurred, squeezing your eyes open just to have the drop closed once again. 
Azriel tucked his hand against the back of your head and looked expectantly at the two High Lords before him. 
When Helion spoke, Azriel let him, if only because he was still living on the high of his mate’s lingering amusement. “Whatever the witch did, it was a mimicry of the daemati that tore into her head all those years ago. I need to do more research, see if I am able to undo whatever it is she redid without irreparably damaging her mind. If I can’t, the only answer is the witch.” 
“Is that even possible? To mimic something like that?” Azriel asked, stepping forward so your drooping head would fall against his arm. 
“Witches draw power beyond their reserve and even beyond the cauldron. We know so little about them. Tamlin should not have been making deals with them,” Helion curtly replied. 
Any lightness in the room had very clearly disappeared. 
“Take your mate back to your room. We can discuss this when she no longer looks like she’s fighting to stay awake.” 
“I am awake,” you argued, trying and failing to haul yourself into an upright position. 
Rhysand huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even be awake after having two high lords in my mind. Go rest. We will talk in the morning.” 
Azriel assisted as you stood on unsteady legs, but the attempt was futile. The shadowsinger gathered you into his arms as you sent an accusatory finger in Rhysand’s direction. “Liar.” 
It wasn’t until you were alone in the hallway, your head against Azriel’s shoulder, his arms beneath your body, that you spoke again.
“Azriel?” 
He hummed in response. 
“What’s a mate?”
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ellecdc · 1 day
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James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?
this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader
poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them
CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF
This was obviously a bad idea.
You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.
There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.
“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”
You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.
You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.
“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.
Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.
But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds. 
You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.
But James was taken; three times over. 
And what a sodding group they were.
Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you. 
And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.
And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-
No.
No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.
You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you. 
“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity. 
Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.
And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.
“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”
You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.
Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.
“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you. 
You felt momentarily grateful for her.
And then she spoke again.
“Then none of us will get to look at her.”
Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much. 
“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”
“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.
You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them. 
They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?
Surely not.
Of course not.
What a ridiculous thing to think.
But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.
Maybe one more glance?
Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.
They were watching you leave?!
Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day. 
You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.
“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”
Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…
But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you. 
“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.
“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.
And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.
But in your defence…
In your defence, Remus was man handling you. 
And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people. 
You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!? 
You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.
Until it got to the Marauders.
Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.
“Moony!” 
Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously. 
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”
You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.
No matter if they complimented you.
No matter if they caught you as you fell. 
No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.
No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.
No matter.
“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.
Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?
You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.
James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.” 
You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.
It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.” 
“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.
“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.
“What?”
“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?
Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.
“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.
His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”
You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.
“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.
“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.
“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.
“Yeah.” You agreed.
And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours. 
It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.
You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.
“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.
“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.
“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink. 
The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers. 
You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.
“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.
Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.
“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”
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surielstea · 3 days
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Words on Paper
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel’s jealous over a male in your book and it’s hilarious.
Warnings: Just fluff, short Drabble :)
1k words
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You and Nesta hadn't shut up about the men in your books all morning. The new Sellyn Drake novel had come out less than a week ago and the both of you couldn't stop raving about it, you swore you had dreams about the characters, and when you weren't caught up in the plot you were analyzing the characters, the male love interest specifically who Nesta and you were all but frothing at the mouth over.
"I need him, unfortunately," Nesta sighed, looking over to me as we held our planks. Valkyrie training seemed to go a lot faster when the both of you got the chance to debrief over chapters and share what you were passionate about, Cassian didn't seem to care as long as we stayed on task and kept up with the movements.
The exercises had become second nature to the both of you, sure it wasn't as mindless as breathing but after it's been part of your routine for weeks it truly does come naturally, like a second language that only the two of you can speak.
Azriel was slow to insanity at this point. He couldn't seem to adjust to the idea of you taking interest in anyone but him. With Mates, the rule is that if the bond is accepted then there's no one else for that person, intertwined by fate.
So why was he so irritated when you rambled too long about a guy from a book?
"Are you two working out your mouths too?" Azriel stands above you, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, you look up at him with a wide grin. "Sorry, sir," you tease. Nesta shakes her head in exasperation and you giggle.
It took one minute of silence until Nesta and you were whispering amongst each other again.
Azriel seems to have given up days ago, his eyes narrowed at you from across the sparring mats, Cassian next to him as they drink their waters.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Azriel asks his brother, continuing to stare at both of their mates. “Does what?” Cassian turned to him with an arched brow. “That they’re so obsessed with those men from their little smut novels,” Azriel mutters and Cassian nearly laughs at the death glare the Shadow Singer was saving for the fictional male, who as of late was threatening to take his wife away.
“It’s just words on paper,” Cass shrugs, bending down to place his water on the ground. “I know but, the idea of her wanting anyone else gets under my skin,” Azriel argues and this time Cassian does laugh, it was so odd to see the revered Spymaster so torn up about some guy, who wasn’t even real. “What’re you jealous of him?” Cassian scoffs through his laughter. Azriel rolls his eyes and puts his water down. “Whatever, just don’t come crying when you can’t satisfy Nesta anymore,” He grumbled.
“I doubt that day will come,” Nesta hums from behind the Shadow Singer. He knew she was there, you with her, but he needed to get his point across. “Hey hun, you ready to go?” You dip under his arm, placing a hand on his bare chest. He only nodded in reply.
“Hey, remember what I said, it’s just words Az,” Cassian said before you got the chance to winnow him away, he nodded once more then you took him home.
You didn’t want to know what the General was going on about, you could tell from training Azriel was a little irritated but you couldn’t remember doing anything to irk him.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just keep pouting like a baby?” You ask and he scowls down at you. You smile, hands coming to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he barely has time to reciprocate it before you’re pulling away.
“What’s got you so tense?” You smush his cheeks together and he just stares at you in reply, so you begin to guess. “Something Cass did?” You ask and he shakes his head no. “Something I did?” He doesn’t move and you deflate, flinging your arms over his shoulders and melting into him. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong, please?” You sigh into his neck, already admitting defeat. “Do you like him more than me?” He blurts and you stiffen, pulling away to look up at him confused. “Like who?” You utter. “The guy in your stupid book,” He grumbled and you openly cackled before slapping a hand over your lips. “It’s not funny,” He groans backing away from your touch and plopping down onto the sofa, where he could sulk in peace. “I know, I’m sorry Az,” You say, taking deep breaths to control your giggles. “I’m just saying, what does he have that I don’t?” He frowns and you walk over to him, sprawling over his lap and straddling his hips. “Perhaps a control on his emotions?” You tease and he grumbles beneath his breath like a child, looking away from you.
It was true that Azriel was quite explosive. One would think he’d be less reactive as the Spymaster and yet he might’ve been the quickest to action out of all the inner circle. It was a weakness, something he was working on. It was rude of you to point it out but you make up for it by peppering a line of loving kisses up the side of his face.
“I love you, okay? Only you,” You reassure. “Those men, they’re meant to be thirsted over, you understand that don’t you?” You ask and the male nods. “I just don’t want you wanting anyone else,” He looks at me and my grin widens. “Awh, Az,” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “I’m all yours, don’t worry,” You muffle into his neck. “Yeah? All mine?” He asks and you nod rapidly before saying, “Promise,”
“Now stop acting like a big baby,” you pull away from the hug and hold his face in your hands. “I’m gonna go bathe, you gonna keep moping out here or do you wanna join me?” You tease. He doesn’t answer and instead picks you up from where you sit and walks you straight to the bathing chambers.
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Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe
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493 notes · View notes
mingwrites · 2 days
Note
I’m not sure if you have done this but can you do something about how ateez will feel after a concert or especially Coachella, all h.rny and all js being very dominant? (I love your work btw, I think it’s very true to them)
hello there, first of all thank u so much for the compliment thats so sweet 🥺 and second i really hope u enjoy~!
ateez after a concert
seonghwa ~ it was a hot night, as evident by the sweat stains soaking through seonghwa's low-cut tank. backstage, he dashed around the room, panting as he repeated, "where's my y/n? where's my y/n?" you didn't even care that he looked insane. you ran to him and he scooped you up in a big hug, lifting you off your feet. "you guys were so good," you cheered, holding the tired, sweaty man as close as possible. seonghwa set you down but held both of your hands in his. “thanks, baby,” he smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss you. you pecked him on the lips, about to pull away when you felt his hand comb through your hair, pulling your lips closer to his. your stomach filled with butterflies at seonghwa’s command and you happily submitted to him, leaning into his touch. his lips searched desperately for an entrance into yours, and you obliged him, parting your lips as his tongue came flooding into your mouth. with a mind of their own, your legs backed you up against the wall and seonghwa followed closely. his hips crashed into yours when you collided with the wall, causing both of you to moan at the sudden pressure. you laughed into the kiss and seonghwa finally pulled away to look at you. “what’s gotten into you?” you asked. seonghwa was breathing hard and stared at you with heavy eyelids. “i just…really need you.” a ping of arousal shot between your legs and you responded, "let's get out of here."
hongjoong ~ his ride raced across the city, headed for his hotel. unfortunately for both of you, the 15-minute ride was just a little too long. you sat impatiently in the back seat beside your lover, his hand on your thigh. you held his hand tight as your legs subconsciously squeezed together, relieving a little bit of the heat in your clit. hongjoong's tongue was exploring your mouth, meanwhile your free hand crept its way toward his lap. he moaned lewdly when you landed on his hard dick, a raw, vulnerable quality in his voice as if he hadn't been touched in ages. "that's it, darling," he whispered, "go on, touch." you glanced to make sure the driver wasn't snooping before undoing hongjoong's pants and wrapping your hand around his bare skin. "good girl," he sighed, his head falling back on the headrest. he fit snugly in your hand, the feeling of his veins and sight of his red, leaking head causing your legs to tingle. you pumped him just a few times before the car came to a stop. “we’re here, mr. kim."
yunho ~ practically running through the revolving hotel door, you giggled along with your boyfriend as you held tight his large hand. you headed straight for the elevator, the wetness pooling between your legs in preparation for the night ahead. yunho pressed a button and the elevator doors closed. then he immediately turned to you and pressed you against the wall, his hand finding your jaw and pulling you to him as his lips made a mess of yours. you moaned when his hand trailed down to your chest, grabbing a handful of squishy flesh and massaging your taut nipple. then his hand drifted lower, sneaking past the waistband of your pants and underwear, where he found your soaked and swollen sex. he smirked into his kiss as he dipped his finger inside, coating it in your arousal before rubbing a few tentative circles on your clit. you swore your legs almost gave out at the sensation. he made you moan a few times before sliding back inside, now hooking his fingers into your sweet spot and stroking it gently. the elevator made a ding and yunho pulled away from the kiss. he looked down at you and said, "i'm gonna make this pussy all mine."
yeosang ~ you collapsed onto the hotel mattress and yeosang wasted no time before reaching for your zipper. he freed you of your bottoms, the cool air hitting your already messy pussy. then he kneeled on the floor, pulling you toward the edge of the bed so your pussy was right in front of his face. "i love you," he said, not giving you a second to respond before taking the breath right out of you. his warm, soft tongue licked a slow stripe from your sopping entrance to the tip of your clit, causing your legs to instinctively close around his head. he groaned at the feeling of your thighs against his warm cheeks then gently pushed them back toward the mattress. you ran a hand through his hair, messy and a little damp with sweat from performing. he continued rubbing his tongue against your clit, switching every so often between quick flicking motions and long, sucking kisses. it was the sucking, along with the deep sounds of satisfaction yeosang made that got you off so damn quickly. your legs closed again, and this time he let them, sticking his tongue out for you to grind against as you rode the waves of orgasm. when you finally looked down at his gorgeous face between your legs, he said, "i was waiting all night to do that."
sannie ~ "go ahead, pretty girl," he said, one hand around his massively hard dick and the other in your hair, "suck it." you obediently opened wide, sticking your tongue out just to drive san crazy. saliva dripped down your tongue which made san moan, his hand guiding his dick to your lips. "so hungry for me, aren't you, babe?" you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and moaned in response to his question. san's head rolled back and he let out a deep groan, his hips twitching a little at the feeling of your warm, tight mouth. with his hand on the back of your head, he gently urged you down the length of his dick, an action you didn't resist. you leaned all the way in until he poked at the back of your throat, when he let out a satisfied moan, then you went a little further. "that's a good girl," he praised, his hips beginning to move on their own, fucking your mouth slowly. you continued to suck on him dutifully, stroking him with a flat tongue and letting him use you how he wanted.
mingi ~ you lied on your belly with your ass up in the air, your pussy an empty hole just waiting to be filled. mingi got positioned behind you, his hands around your waist and his huge dick standing tall just inches from where you needed it. he was inches from where he needed to be, too, both of you throbbing and dripping with desire. you swore you could have cried when the head of his dick finally penetrated you, and you almost did when his girth stretched you fully, his veiny skin pressing against your sweet spot. you moaned in harmony as mingi bottomed out, his hands pulling your ass flush with his belly. you could feel him bulging through your stomach, but couldn't bask in the feeling for long as mingi's hips began to move rapidly, his dick pounding into you again and again, always hitting your sweet spot. you shoved your face into the mattress, your hands gripping fistfuls of bedsheets, as you were fucked into oblivion. you couldn't hold back the lewd sounds you made, bordering on screams and sobs, while mingi let out deep-voiced growls behind you. "love your sweet little pussy," he said, staring down at where he disappeared inside you. "all mine."
wooyoung ~ he rolled over on his back, groaning out of impatience during the few moments he wasn't inside you. you hurried along, repositioning his dick at your entrance and slowly sliding down. you sat on his pelvis, his dick throbbing inside you, but didn't move yet, instead taking the time to lean back and circle your clit with your finger. wooyoung quickly pulled your hand away, hissing at you, "don't tease me. and let me rub this." you giggled at his temper but obeyed his demands, letting his thumb pick up rubbing messy circles into your clit, and rolling your hips backward, forward. wooyoung quickly became a symphony of sounds, moaning when you bounced on his dick and whining when you slowed down. his thumb kept up its diligent work on your clit, each circle and swipe drawing you closer to the edge. wooyoung was panting, his eyes fluttering shut as he focused in on the pleasure. he said to you in a breathy voice, "gonna make you cum all over me. my sweet y/n."
jongho ~ he had you on your back, his large, muscular body forcing your legs apart. you moaned like a helpless animal as his thick length pummeled you, filling you up over and over. his powerful arms were on either side of your head, his fingers interlocked with yours. you whined as he fucked you, "please, jongho, don't stop... it feels so good..." he laughed breathily at your needy tone, speaking in your ear, "it's okay, sweetheart... i won't stop." in response to your desperate plea, his hips began to move a little faster, still hitting that perfect spot inside you. soon after, you felt the familiar tight, tingly feeling in your tummy. "jong-! oh..." your muscles tensed repeatedly around him as you came, a few more thrusts into that tightness causing jongho to reach his high in time with you. he dropped his head in the crook of your shoulder and his hips slowed to a stop as you felt his warm seed paint your walls. he lifted his head only to kiss you - a sloppy, lazy kiss in between heavy breaths. he placed his index finger underneath your chin and lifted it so you could face him. then he whispered, "you're such a good girl."
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kika-writes · 3 days
Text
stolen phone (and hearts) - l.n
Warnings: sex references
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: SMAU for just Lando and Y/N messing around on socials! Y/N gets sentimental at the end about thinking Lando only wants her for sex basically
faceclaim - none
landonorris
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caption: who’s that sexy thing, i see over there 😍🙏
user1 - OMG SHES SO PRETTYYYYY
carlossainz - 💃💃
    —> y/n - ❤️
y/n - it’s me 😍 standing outside your garage and stealing all your fans
—> landonorris - stealing my fans in a mildly attractive way 😰😰
lewishamilton - outfits better than mine 💔💔
—> user3 - u dress like a clown anyways
—> user4 - a clown who makes millions? soooo, hush 🤫
y/n
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caption: omg 😍 look at my slay pookie angel cakes sweetheart sexy boyfriend 😍😍 such a talented racer 😍😍😍 (it’s massive btw 😍)
carlossainz - no it’s not, I’ve seen it
—> user5 - EXCUSE ME WHAT 😨
landonorris - oh bless what an amazing girlfriend I have, nah stop it, (yes I’m very talented)
user5 - lemme guess, he took your phone
user6 - have u Guys seen y/n’s paddock outfit, she’s so smash
—> landonorris - 🤨
—> user6 - OMG LANDO THREESOME
y/n - LANDO STOP IT 🙄
landonorris
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caption - pls pls pls pls pls date me 🙏🙏
oscarpiastri - Lily wants to meet her 😨
—> lilyzneimer - her outfits are stunning 😍😍
—> y/n - don’t u dare even get me started abt u 😘😘
user7 - help she’s so hot wtf
carlossainz - great to hear, there’s an ice cream place down the road, u wanna come?
—> charlesleclerc - that’s my ice cream shop
—> georgerussell63 - make it three 😍
—> landonorris - concerning u three vile cretins, I’m taken.
y/n - I would cheat on u w her lando
—> landonorris - 💔💔💔
y/n
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caption - I said no dino nuggets 🤫 and this is what I get
landonorris - u r no gf of mine if u don’t come with dino nuggies
—> y/n - ahhh, oh no, awww, sad face, crying emoji, crying emoji
—> landonorris - I can taste the sarcasm as I lick my phone 😊
—> y/n - 1) wtf 2) @ lewis hamilton, age don’t matter pls
—> landonorris - NO PLS U CAN HAVE MY CARD 😨
user7 - NOT Y/N SIMPING FOR LEWIS LMFAO
lewishamilton - lando would tickle my ankles, y/n, unfortunately I must decline. 😔
y/n’s story
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replies:
landonorris: why would u expose my voluptuous nose like that
danielricciardo - wasted opportunity to slam his head into the salad bro 😞
user8 - awww he’s adorable
carlossainz - 🥬🥬🥬
y/n
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caption - jokes aside, I love my stupid messy bf more than anything, even if he doesn’t know how to take a selfie
landonorris - I appreciate the love but u mugged me off
—> y/n - every photo of u is a bad one
—> landonorris - even the nudes
—> y/n - …we shall discuss this later
user9 - NOT LANDO TALKING ABT HIS NUDES LMAO
carlossainz - oh dear, they’re in that phase of ‘I luv my bf’
fernandoalonsoofficial - monkey 🐵
user10 - OMG LMAO
maxverstappen1 - y/n, how much did he pay u
—> y/n - 16 solid old pennies 💪
oscarpiastri - 😭😭
lilyzneimer - lando ur single forget it. y/n’s mine 😍😍😍
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A/N - lmk in the comments or @slutforln-4 if u liked this and I should write more x
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nouvxllev · 2 days
Note
CLINGYGRUMPYJENNA X READER!!
plsplsplsplspls
Summary: Co-workers in public, lovers in private 🙌🏼, while shooting for Wednesday, J gets really stressed, and craves for R's intimacy, but can't have that yet until break of dawn, so J basically gets sooo annoyed with anyone who tries talking to her that isn't R.
the waiting game
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 4.8k
Warnings: fluf, grumpy & clingy jenna!
a/n: caught basically the nastiest cold for a whole week, but im back! sorry requests taking too long, tryna to balance everything rn but it all will be done soon!!!!
masterlist.
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Jenna hasn’t seen you in almost 4 hours, 36 minutes, and 4 fucking seconds. 
Yes, she counted, yes, it’s still ongoing, and, yes, she could almost murder someone with her bare hands if time even dares to pass by without you.
What makes matters worse is that she's terribly sleep-deprived even with someone's arms wrapped around her night after night.
Of course, the aforementioned someone swirling in her head 24/7 is you. Her not-quite-lover in public but entirely her beloved behind closed doors.
If Jenna had it her way, she would’ve jumped off a building by now and hard-launched the both of you by herself just so she could get hugs, kisses, and your hand intertwined with hers all she wanted.
Obviously, the universe decides to be a stuck-up bitch just now in their 14 billion years of life, wanting nothing more than to see Jenna Marie Ortega suffer without having you.
But it's fine.
She could get through this.
If there's someone in the world that could handle a single day without your warm hugs and lovely kisses, whether it be on the cheek or the lips, it would be her. She didn't endure almost half a year seeing that godforsaken Wednesday dance to go completely insane without you.
— Is what she kept telling herself 30 seconds earlier before she broke down and almost turned to witchcraft if you don't appear in front of right her.
She could push through with it, like she always does. It's a simple routine that never got the best of her.
Wake up and have breakfast with the love of your life while prepping each other with kisses and whatnot, run to set for the both of you to act out a scene for a while, when break hits all Jenna has to do is intertwine her pinky with yours under the table, then do hair and makeup after, act out a scene then wrap it all up, lie to everyone for the 100th time that her house is just a few steps away from yours, hit a bakery on the way home or maybe an ice cream shop if Jenna feels peckish, break down the apartment door Jenna shares with you, run to the bedroom, and smother each other with kisses and cuddles. Maybe a makeout session if Jenna's lucky.
It's bliss then repeat.
But today just so happens to be the day that Jenna takes over the whole episode, doing stunts and everything with little to no cuts for side characters.
She'd think that you would have nothing to do than act out your scenes—with her—might she add and it'll be all fine and the nights she'd spent waking up at 3 in the morning would be all's well.
But no, unfortunately you were the epitome of the perfect person and everyone just has to drag you around to who knows where to deal with some difficulties.
Plus, the both of you woke up late so she didn't even get the full girlfriend treatment she always got in the morning.
It was completely unfair!
Jenna was tired, grumpy, a bit too snappy, desperate for your attention, and she misses you. Alot.
And by that she means she misses the way you would wrap your arms around her after a busy day of filming together, pull her close, and feel the way how her lips fits perfectly on yours.
She would've dragged you back to bed and cuddle with you if she knew what was about to happen. Every second not spent with you is absolutely meaningless in her book.
Unfortunately, she has to play the waiting game.
She's fucking losing it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was 11 PM on a Thursday night.
Jenna is really so fucking tired, she could almost snap.
She had almost endured five to six hours of you nowhere even near her. The most she even interacted with you on set was when the both of you were acting a scene then abruptly got cut because of technical difficulties.
Plus, everyone but you was talking to her as if she was some kind of star! (she is.)
Jenna almost wished for an accident, or maybe a wardrobe malfunction that leads her to discovering some sort of new allergy about herself, just so she could be rushed off to the hospital and have you fussing over her, then maybe you could hold her hand and kiss her as if she would heal.
"How's it going, Ree—"
"Literally, I mean this in the nicest way possible, shut the fuck up Georgie."
He doesn't respond immediately, his eyes wide open as he steps back in surrender with his hands up in the air. "Ooooohkay!"
The brunette's head shot up immediately, her eyes burning and her shoulders slumped as she sank further into her chair for what felt like the millionth time.
"I... I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry." She closed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples, "I'm doing fine." She reassured herself more than anyone else, gripping the armchair for support.
"Biggest lie ever."
"You caught in Jenna's crossfire too, Emma?
"Oh damn, even Moosa?"
As if on cue, the whole cast decides to join in the damn conversation. Jenna loved them all, really, but it would've been so much better if a certain someone also joined and not far off into the distance talking to one of the editors.
Come on, would it literally kill you to question yourself why half of the cast was surrounding practically the love of your life while you're standing like 10 feet away!?
"You seem tense, J."
"Something wrong?"
"You've been staring at us for an hour with that Kubrick Stare of yours."
Who's exactly talking to her? Georgie, Emma, Moosa, it's all in that order but their voices seemed deranged, and it couldn't be any more worse when she's been trying to catch your eye for what seemed like the past hour.
She couldn't take shit when she's horribly missing you. So, she bites, and raises her voice more than she should, "Should I close my eyes to spare you the terrible fucking horror? Fuck, man!"
Jenna let an exasperated sigh escape from her mouth as she rose to her feet, eyeing the group with probably the most intense stare someone could bear witness to. She half-expected she'd get another pain-in-the-ass comeback from atleast one of them, but she was met with unusual silence.
The three look practically horrified, as if they were seeing the fictional idea of Wednesday Addams in the form of a 5'1, 22 year old woman dressed as her. Like they have the small but terrible quote running gears in their heads.
She heard them in unison muttering quiet apologies, "Sorry, Jenna…"
Her mind told her to forgive them for whatever they did, but her heart told her y/n.
"No, no it's fine." The brunette shook her head, her words forming icicles on each synonym and her eyes were like seeing inside of a storm. Without the peaceful atmosphere of an eye, clearly. "I'm just... stressed. Is Y/n free?"
Emma tilted her head to the side, "Actually, I never really saw them that much today, no?" She exchanged glances with the both of them.
"Heard they're busy with the tech team," Georgie crossed his arms, "Even for an actor, they've got a skill to be a director with how familiar they are behind the scenes."
Moosa nodded in agreement, "Yeah, they've been pretty tied up with all the technical stuff lately. Must be exhausting."
For fuck sakes, why did you have to be the most perfect and talented goddamn person?
"Why you looking for them?"
Jenna definitely did not need another goddamn voice entering her goddamn space.
She could almost roll her eyes and flip everybody off if not for Joy and the others being the most precious co-stars of them all.
"Because!" Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking while lifting her arms in the air, "Y/n's my fucking lov...-"
Oh, shit.
"Lov...?"
"...Lovely neighbor." She blinked. "They... They bake me some cookies whenever I get in a bad mood."
Oh to fucking hell with this lovers in private bullshit. Lovely neighbor, that was the best damn excuse she could come up with?
"Well, heard they went home early because of an emergency, but it's kinda pouring out—"
It was in Jenna and Jenna alone on how insanely and horrifyingly fast she bolted out of the conversation, quickly changed clothes, thanking to the literal heavens (fuck the universe, Jenna will die on this hill) that Tim wrapped up early.
Josh. Josh was always the one you manage to bring up to be one of the most carefree guys in set, it's certain that he knew wherever the fuck you went. Actually, you always looked so happy whenever you talked to her about Josh and how much he lends with whatever left over set pieces they had, it's almost insane that you were—
"Aliyah, I'd tell you to shut up and fuck off as of this moment but I am literally too tired to even say that, what!?"
"Jenna, where the hell is your hoodie you wore on Christmas Eve!? I literally told you like an hour before your half-assed reply to tell me where'd you put your clothes."
Of course her sisters, more specifically Aliyah Goddamn Ortega, would find the most perfect timing to call her about the stupidest shit there could ever be.
"Okay, now, fuck off."
Jenna grimaced through gritted teeth as she hung up. She loved her sister, but does she love you more? Absolutely.
"Josh!" She called out, running towards him, "Sorry, kind of abrupt, but do you know where Y/n went?" Atleast she had some decency left in her to be polite to some.
"Actually—"
"Let one more word come out of your mouth not related to my question, and I swear, Josh—"
"Y/n left early, they told me to tell you but I guess I forgot."
Maybe a little too carefree.
"You fucking guess!?— I mean, yes, thank you. I’ll be going."
Oh, the waiting game is a pain in the ass.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You pace back and forth in Jenna's apartment, your socks making a dent in the fuzzy carpet in the living room Jenna bought when you moved in with her, a nail in between your teeth and rain pouring in the background.
How in the hell did you forget possibly all your devices on fucking set!?
Your phone was dead, and your laptop was unfortunately abandoned by its owner (yours truly) and you have no way of contacting your lovely girlfriend.
And worse of all, it was a little over midnight.
All this because you got a notification that someone was at the door for an hour.
And it was just a fucking cat. (To be fair, they were really cute.)
You were starting to worry, especially how it was pouring outside like there was a hurricane incoming and how you left early without Jenna intertwining her warm and soft hands around yours.
So not only did you leave all your devices behind, but you also left Jenna without any means of contacting you.
You almost cursed yourself, maybe even doing the most stupidest and financially unstable decision of ordering a new phone as if it was going to be delivered same day.
Until you heard a slight click and a door opening.
There were times thunder struck, but it definitely did not beat the way your heart almost leaps into your throat as you hear the door opening.
You pause in your steps, a deep breath stuck in your mouth as you cross the living room and peer through the door way.
The door swung open and you're met with the, one of the most gorgeous and relieving sights you may add, of Jenna standing there. Slightly damp and with an... angry? Expression on her face.
"Jenna!" You blurted out, rushing over to her and enveloping her in a tight hug. "Did Josh fill you in? I feel terrible for getting home early, I'm so sorry. There was this whole thing I had to deal with, then the rain came pouring down, and I thought I'd at least get you a cab—"
"Shh. Just stay still. And preferably quiet."
When she's in your arms, she melts in the warmth of the comfort you bring to her. "Guess you caught the cab." You whisper under your breath.
You notice her breathing slowing down, the tension in her body easing away, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she buries her head in your neck. A sway the both of you took upon as she tugged at your chest with her hands wrapped around your body.
Jenna felt and smelled like home. Maybe heaven really is real if you're back in her arms after death.
"Is everything okay? Did something go down on set while I was away? Oh, Jenna, I'm so—" You start to pull back, placing your hands on her shoulders.
"Y/n, push me away, I fucking dare you, I'll bring down hell upon this godforsaken world."
You hesitate, but her gaze wants nothing more than to be in your arms. Who were you to deny her?
With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, you pull her back into your arms. You weren't much taller than Jenna, in fact, just an inch or two apart. You loved that about eachother, like the two of you were a perfect fit.
Minutes pass, the only sound of the soft rhythm of Jenna's breathing and your heartbeat became a melody to your ears.
"I'm gonna hard launch the both of us right fucking now."
Well, that definitely caught you off-guard.
"Something happened?"
"You weren't on set for like hours! And everyones got too damn annoying for my ears to even process so I was trying to look for you, but then I ended up insulting Emma and the others, then I called you my lovely neighbor because I almost ended up saying you're my lover so I had to cover for it!"
"...That's quite a handful. I'm sorry I wasn't there, baby."
Even so, you knew that Jenna wasn't ready for a public relationship, not now that everyone was currently holding her at a social and cyber gunpoint with her life.
And even back then, you were the first one in the relationship who told her that the both of you would be better off if they both kept it private.
Even from their friends... And maybe more so families. Or maybe Jenna's. It's pretty hard to keep secrets from her family.
Obviously, look how that turned out.
Finally, Jenna murmurs something. "Sorry. It's been a rough day." Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, "Just without you."
You could almost kill yourself of the mere thought of even having to leaving Jenna the whole day.
"I—"
"Don't worry, I know you were busy with tech."
"Yeah. They got me wrapped up in their troubles, but 's all fine."
"Ever thought beating the complete shit out of them?"
"Jenna, you can't just say that!"
"But they've been literally hogging you from me! And I think that's completely unfair!"
"But you really shouldn't. You'd probably end up getting destroyed, especially with your height."
"Oh, but I definitely should. Besides, we're the same height, Y/n."
You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Okay, you know what, tempting as it sounds, I don't think violence is the answer."
She scoffs another time, a crease in her forehead. "Well, it's definitely an option worth considering."
After a moment of silence, you carry her to the living room, her legs dangling as you lift her from her feet and settle her onto the soft-cushioned couch.
You start to pull away once you set her down, stretching your body after a tense day, yet a certain someone was making grabby hands for you while shooting a look with her eyes begging you to stay.
"Y/n, don't you want to stay here with me?" She pulls you closer, locking her legs around yours.
Oh, Jenna knows damn well you couldn't resist her.
"Jenna, just relax," you gently tug her legs apart with your own, letting them fall as she permits, "I'll just get you some water."
She tugs at the hem of your shirt, "Then I'll come with!" Her smile almost comes back alive and she's already clinging onto your arm.
"Jenna. The love of my life."
"Y/n?"
"You're tired, stressed, snappy, grum—"
"Okay, I am not grumpy or snappy!" Jenna bites back almost immediately. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"
You shoot her a look. A yup-thats-why-look, and it's enough to get a pout to form on her lips.
"Grumpy, and you're still damp from the rain. I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up with a cold in the morning." You gently pat her head before sitting her back down. "I'll be quick, alright? You know I'm not going far just for a glass of water."
"Fine," Jenna huffs, "But you better hurry back! Ten seconds, tops!"
With a smile playing on your lips, you roll your eyes before making your way to the kitchen. And of course, Jenna's gaze from the couch was following you. You know patience was never Jenna's strong suit when it comes with you.
It wasn't even a few seconds before you heard,
"Y/nnnn!" Jenna's voice calls out from the living room, almost sounding like a groan and a whine.
It's almost amusing how someone as seemingly nonchalant yet sweet as Jenna could also be this puddle of affection and clinginess when it came to you.
You chuckle to yourself before quickly making your way back to her, holding out the glass of water for her.
"That was well over ten seconds." Jenna remarks, downing the water in one go before setting the glass on the coffee table. Then, she pulls you back towards her, and before you know it, you're both collapsing onto the couch.
"Well, I thought I did great." You say before Jenna tackles you into a very tight hug.
Leaning back against the cushions, you let out a sigh, feeling the everything slowly melting away when she's in your arms. Jenna inches closer, resting her head on your chest as you wrap an arm around her, holding her close.
"Hug me tighter, y/n." She murmurs softly, almost demanding if she didn't have a soft melody to her voice, her body warm against yours and her breathing seemed to be in sync with your own.
"You'll die if I do." You sigh contentedly.
Jenna lets out a huff, her breath warm against your skin and her scent was all too comforting. That earthy rain smell and her aromatic fragrance. "You know that I don't mind," she replies, "Of course you'd think I'd care if I died in your arms."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Jenna." You shake your head once against, ruffling her hair as you give her an extra squeeze before loosening your hold slightly to let her breathe.
"You want dinner?" You whisper to her after, not even above a decibel just for her to relax. "I didn't get the chance to stop by at the bakery."
"Please," comes Jenna's response.
You know what a full-on smile with dimples from her sounds and feels like when she has that hopeful and happy tune to her otherwise grumpy voice today.
You slowly pull yourself back up, gently pushing Jenna off your chest. And also unknowingly pulling a koala trapped in a 5'1, 22 year old body named Jenna Ortega clinging onto your back.
"Jenna."
She buries her head into the crook of your neck, eyes half-lidded. "Mmm… Yeah?" It's honestly surprising how she can actually and literally attach herself to you.
"Jenna, you have to let go so I can cook." Even as you ask her to release herself, you adjust to her weight on your back, carefully making your way to the kitchen, your hands securely holding onto her legs.
"You can cook just fine, Y/n," she whines, "You have two arms."
"And you," you reply, gently patting her legs, "have two legs and two arms. I can't cook with you piggybacking, baby."
You can tell the nickname made her smile. "Yeah, but I don't have a built-in Y/n in my system that I can cuddle with all day. So please just let me be."
"No, Jenna—You're gonna get hurt."
You reach the kitchen and gently lower Jenna from her back, setting her down on the kitchen island.
Her arms still lingered around your neck for a moment before she reluctantly, and against her will so it seems, lets go. "You know how frantic I am when I cook."
"Then maybe, you're not a good cook."
"I'm trying to keep my girlfriends, which is you, may I add, life out of harms way."
"Maybe that's the reason why you're not a good cook."
"Jenna."
Grabby hands, once again, making a return and tugging you by your shirt collar. But this time, you resist.
"Whyyyyyyy?" she whines, her bottom lip jutting out in a Jenna Ortega fashionable pout. "Do you hate me, Y/N?"
You roll your eyes playfully before booping her on the tip of her nose. "I'm cooking you a meal to show that I love you, baby." You pull back yourself and put on an apron standing off side to the fridge, Jenna's gaze could almost burn holes into the fabric.
"Okay." She sighs, dropping her head down. "Okay, fine! Can I just hold your hand?" She looks up to see you standing in front of her, wearing the cutest apron with the well-known kiss the chef quote.
A faint blush spreads across her freckled face, and you couldn't help but smile at her.
You can't really cook with one hand that properly. But if Jenna wants you to cook for her even if you had your hands surgically removed from your body, then so fucking be it. A few missing limbs can't top a few smiles from your girlfriend.
"Alright, baby." You place take her hand and lead her to the stove where it seemed like you've got everything prepared. "Just get behind me when there's oil splashing, mkay?"
A few minutes pass by with Jenna's hand in yours while you cook. Her head leans against your shoulder as she stands close.
Between the two of you, Jenna was always the one who takes over the cooking part of the relationship, no matter how much you insist cooking for her. But you're grateful and very fortunate now that she's allowing you to take over. Plus, Jenna keeps you entertained with her witty remarks and random stuff about her day.
Oh, what a life you're living in.
"You didn't cook for yourself?" Jenna's voice interrupts your thoughts as you plate a serving of salmon topped with herbs, accompanied by sliced lemon and a few kiwis. With the skin left on, of course, just how she likes it. Only for your loving girlfriend.
You shake your head, taking her hand and her plate in the other, leading her to the dining table. "I'm good. I had a late lunch earlier," you reply, gently placing the plate on the table and sitting her down. "Besides, it's not often I get to cook for you. It wouldn't be as special if I cooked for myself too."
Jenna's eyes almost appear teary as she looks at you. "Please never show yourself again in public. I seriously cannot lose you." She replied almost immediately.
If you didn't miss it, you would've seen the adoration and love shining in Jenna's gaze. It's as if she wants to ditch the meal entirely and cover your face with kisses.
You swear you probably ate a seed in your chest by how you kept feeling warmth bloom in your heart at her. "How can I do that if I'm an actor?" You chuckle, "They'd probably question you first if I disappear."
Jenna takes her fork and points it at you, slicing a piece of salmon with her spoon. "Hey, I've seen the tweets about people practically drooling over you. It's like they're your lover and not mine!"
You crease your forehead, crossing your arms, "You get more thirst tweets more than I do!"
"And I believe you contribute to that percentage." She raises one eyebrow, smirking at your direction before chewing on another piece of salmon. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
A factual one at that.
You almost choke at your own words. "Oh, you know me so well."
A sigh escapes your lips, your smile still in place. "Besides, we're not exactly public, are we?" Leaning in, you draw Jenna into your own little world. "You're the only one who gets the real me. If I leave, I'll cross my heart on my own and I'll die on my own."
Jenna looks at you while taking a bite of her salmon, chewing slowly as if she's contemplating something, a tug in her lips. "Mn, guess so."
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You'd think you'd get some work done, maybe memorize future scripts or send out some emails to directors asking if you could audition for a show at one in the morning.
Instead, you're lying in bed with Jenna.
Or maybe a koala in this case.
In bed. Blankets over the both of you. Pillow's a bit too comfy to even think about getting up. Plus, the koala in question may or may not have hidden your phone and charger.
Jenna wasn't always a light sleeper. Sometimes, you'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her sitting up with a blanket draped over her entire body, furiously typing away in her notes app. It's endearing, but also makes you wonder if she's ever dabbled in witchcraft.
Now, she's wide awake to even be one.
Her eyes closed and her breathing steady enough to lull you asleep. The atmosphere is cozy, and so is your girlfriend laying atop of you.
Her arms were wrapped around yours for the millionth time while her head rests on her favorite part of your chest, her head staring off to the side as if she's trying to hear your heartbeat.
You thought she'd be passed out after dinner, but she dragged you by the cuffs of your hoodie and lead you to the bedroom.
"Jenna," you whisper not above even the slightest decibel, "I have work to do." The gentle rise and fall of her chest steadies in sync with yours, her head tilting slightly in the other way, and the grip she has on your body suddenly got tighter. It's already as if you'll fly away from her.
She huffs as she raises her head to face yours. "Your work—whatever that is—can wait, but I can’t." The room is dim, too dim, yet you could see the slight dip in her bottom lip.
You know you should focus, but with her so close, it's hard to think about anything else other than, 'Nah, fuck it. I'll live.'
You bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, gently brushing her messy fringe away from her face. Even in this dim light, you could see her freckles scattered across her face like vines making something so abandoned a painting.
Jenna sighs when she looks at you. "Y/n, how long are you gonna keep me playing the waiting game?"
"The waiting game? What even is that—"
"Can you kiss me?"
Oh. Her eyes become almost second nature to her words.
"Because I remember being woken up to the most gorgeous person ever but they didn't give me kisses, and I think—mpmhmmh..."
It took all your effort not to pull her into a kiss.
Obviously, your efforts were in vain.
Truth be told, you miss the way her lips hung on yours, she was perfect in every way. How her arms would wrap around you, how she'd reach up to tug on your jawline, tracing every thing you had offered her, how you would push back only for her to pull you closer.
The kiss soon ended with you and Jenna locking eyes. No words exchanged but the heavy breath the both of you took apart from eachother.
"—I think I might die..." Her words are breathless, her arms perfectly secured around your neck as you sit up.
You smile at her. "Well, I kept you alive, didn't I?"
"No," she breathes, taking hold of your cheeks before sitting up herself. "No, I'm still six feet underground if you don't continue what you were doing."
"You know, I'm starting to like the waiting game."
"Make me play that shit again, it'll be the last time you'll ever make a decision."
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jennaortega
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Liked by ememyers and 1,398,938 others jennaortega goodnight to my gorgeous gorgeous girl @.y/l/n x 6 hours ago
natalieortega1: My fav girls!
joysunday: what lovely neighbors we have here
ememyers: !?@#%%#?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
user: WE FUCKING KNEW IT
moosa_mostafa_: we never knew....
user: MY??????? MY???????? WHAT MY WHY MY?????????????????????
user: now how long....
georgieebleu: the coolest ever
user: WHATS IT FINNA PLAY??????
naomijogawa: two losers having a loser rs
user: having a heart attack holYHIST WHAT HT FUCK
user: literally stop.
hunterdoohan: Respect!!!!
user: shit so insane she got the whole cast to comment
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In short, Jenna won. Plus, she got all the kisses and cuddles she wanted until the alarm hit. (When it did, your name was surprisingly all over social media along with Jenna.)
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milswrites · 1 day
Text
The Trials of Aphrodite Part Four
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Series Masterlist
Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.
Chapter summary: A chat with Rhysand and an unexpected encounter.
Warnings: Angst (not going to give it a level because you guys will come for me and say I'm wrong).
You should have known nothing would get past Rhysand.
Your High Lord had been alive for long enough to know when someone was sneaking around behind his back, even if it was the elusive shadowsinger.
So despite the fact the sudden appearance of the Lord of Night at your door had your palms sweating and heart beating in distress, his arrival wasn't entirely unexpected.
With a long exhale and a quick tap to your mental shields in order to make sure they're in place, you open the door, a synthetic smile working its way onto your face as you greeted your waiting friend.
"Rhys, how wonderful to see you!" you simpered, praying the male wouldn't be able to hear the irregular pounding of your fluctuating heartbeat. Rhysand provided you with his own sickly sweet smile in return, violet eyes twinkling knowingly as he began to speak, "Azriel -"
You didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence, interrupting the Lord in an attempt to draw the conversation away from your rule breaking best friend, "Az isn't here unfortunately, maybe you should try -"
It was Rhysand's turn to cut you off, the male casually raising an inquisitive brow as he did so, smirk only growing wider at your flustered manner, "The market?. . . With Elain?" you blanched at his words, "hmm quite unusual how he seems to be able to talk to her now, isn't it? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"
"Awh Rhys I'm hurt," you pout mockingly, holding a hand to your heart as you step aside to allow the male to enter, "Here I thought you came to see me, and yet all you want to talk about is Azriel's lousy ability to talk to females."
Rhys scoffed at your reply as you busied yourself with making tea, avoiding his pressing stare for as long as you could until your reluctant eyes finally met his own. Sighing at his persistent glare, you held your hands up in defeat, "Fine, I helped him! He practically forced my hand, what was I supposed to do?"
"He made you?" Rhysand asked unimpressed, your eyes already rolling at the lecture which was no doubt about to ensue. Yet his next words were enough for you to spit out the tea you had just consumed, "Or your feelings did?"
"This has nothing to do with that" you snapped in defense, body recoiling at Rhysand's sympathetic stare, "Az needed me Rhys, of course I had to help him."
Your friend stretched his arm across the counter, resting a heavy hand onto your own to stop the slight tremble which his words had triggered. "At the expense of your heart?" Rhysand questions, his face contorted in empathetic pain, "You don't have to do this Flower. You are your own person, there's no shame in saying no to him."
Your eyes began to water as you stared at Rhys's comforting hand, head shaking hopelessly in denial. "What kind of friend would I be?" you miserably ask, "If I can't overlook my childish feelings in order to make him happy."
"It's not your job to make him happy," Rhysand reasons, gently squeezing your hand in order to pull your saddened gaze to his own, "you being there is enough to do that."
"But I am not enough" you shout, Rhysand's arm retracting in surprise at your sudden burst of anger, "I will never be enough for him. I have offered him everything; my friendship, my happiness, my heart. And what do I have to show for it after five hundred years other than his unreciprocated feelings?"
Rhysand came to stand before you, pulling you into a crushing embrace, lips coming to your ear to whisper words of consolation as you cried into his chest. "It's ok" he promised, cupping your head to press you tighter still into his hold, "You're ok. Feelings pass, it just takes time."
"It's not just feelings Rhys" you wept into his shirt, thanking the cauldron that your tears didn't show on the dark material, "I love him."
"So why?" Rhysand asked, moving his hands to your face in order to wipe your tears and draw your eyes to his own begging ones, "Why are you doing this? Why help him?"
"Because I'm tired of loving" you confessed, hiccupping as you spoke, "I want to move on. And if moving on means I have to help him fall in love with somebody else . . ."
Your friend sighed in defeat, a wave of disgruntled understanding beginning to pool in his violet eyes. "You are so unbelievably selfless" Rhys said with a sad smile as he came to place a soft kiss against your brow.
"Are you mad at me? . . . For helping Azriel go against your orders?" you sniffled, voice wavering as you spoke. Salty tears still making their way down your cheeks. "I could never be mad at you Flower" Rhysand consoled, "I'm only disappointed that Azriel would bring you into this mess in the first place. You deserve so much more."
So you continued to cry.
And whilst you were wrapped within the loving arms of the Lord of Night, you could have sworn you had never felt more alone.
Leaving your house was a trial in itself nowadays. Having to force yourself to vacate the sanctuary of your home in order to stir some feelings inside of you that weren't just hopeless despair.
Yet you were unable to shake your loneliness as you walked through the streets of Velaris without the shadowsinger by your side. Azriel having regretfully told you that he had training to make up for with Cassian after having spent the morning alongside Elain.
So, aimlessly wandering around in a melancholic state, you opted to grab yourself a treat in the hope of lightening your mood. For that there was only one place to go, the charming little bakery which you and Azriel had discovered together many years ago.
It was a difficult decision, choosing what pastry to buy, your hungry eyes scouring over the selection until you saw something you liked. The smiling shopkeeper making polite conversation as you pondered your options. Her words bringing your thoughts back to the male you so longed to forget, "now where's that handsome friend of yours today?"
Your heart twinged at the mention of his name, smile dropping slightly as you focused your attention back onto the baked goods before you, "Oh you know, the life of the shadowsinger is a busy one."
The keeper nodded in understanding, wide grin still plastered across her lips as she spoke, "would you like to grab something for him too? On the house for such loyal customers."
You wanted to say no, to prove that Rhysand's words were true and show yourself that your life didn't revolve around Azriel. Yet the flash of his grateful smile appeared in your mind, the warm buttery feeling of the male hugging you in thanks already growing in your chest.
Yet before you even had the chance to answer the waiting lady, a hurried figure bumped into your side, spilling the contents of their steaming cup onto your shirt.
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" flustered apologies flowed from the male's mouth, his hands flying to rub the newly formed coffee stain with a napkin.
You found yourself incapable of answering.
Unsure of whether it was the shock that had stunned you into silence, or the dark ruffled hair and deep hazel eyes of the mysterious stranger. Unfussed by your lack of response, the male continued to ramble, "gods I'm so stupid, I should have watched where I was going. I'll buy you a new top I promise."
Stirring to your senses, you grabbed the male's hands to stop his hastily-done cleaning, allowing a reassuring smile to grace your lips as you promised him it was alright, "Don't worry, I was wondering what this top would look like with coffee all over it."
He barked out a laugh, lifting a hand to muss his short black hair, "I suppose I can only be grateful for running into someone as wonderfully forgiving as you."
It were as if he had you under a spell, his sharp jaw and strong features working to draw you in. "If you wanted my attention you could have just asked me for it" your jaw snapped together as soon as the words slipped out, eyes going wide at your unabashed confidence.
Your words seeming to please the male, a smirk crossing his face as he leaned into reply, "Can you blame me? Getting the chance to run into the most beautiful woman in all of Prythian doesn't come too often."
Unable to stop the blush which flushed across your heated cheeks, your eyes looked to anywhere but his own hazel ones in an attempt to escape the intensity of his gaze.
"I'll tell you what," the handsome stranger started, gesturing his head towards the counter, "I think I owe you a drink after that accident, if you want to join me that is."
All thoughts of getting something for Azriel forgotten, a smirk of your own worked its way onto your face as you reply, "hmm, I'm not sure. I only drink coffee with males I know the name of."
"Deimos" he eagerly replied, the glint of an unknown emotion shimmering within his hazel eyes, "My name is Deimos."
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Notes: I would apologise for the lack of Azriel in this part but honestly I think you guys would thank me for it at this point!
Big thank you to @sarawritestories who waved her magic wand and made me love my writing again.
Taglist Part 1:
@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend
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maskofnova · 3 days
Text
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🎶𝘐 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘛 𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘠𝘈 𝘖𝘜𝘛𝘛𝘈 𝘔𝘠 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋🎶
(Actually really proud of how these turned out)
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haikyu-mp4 · 1 day
Text
To feel seen
word count; 680 – f!reader who wears glasses
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Tsukishima was reading a paleontological magazine he got from his brother, headphones on as he occasionally bopped his head the slightest bit as if he wasn’t sitting in his classroom during lunch period. Yamaguchi was sick today and left his best friend in his own company, which he really didn’t have a problem with.
What he did have a problem with was seeing how that guy from the class next door sauntered right through the door and over to you. Your seat was in front of Kei, and to put all formalities aside, he liked you. From afar. He would never admit to it, not to himself and not to anyone else, but the fact is that he did. So as he watched this guy approach you, he discreetly moved one side of his earphones back on his head, looking at the corner of what he was now just pretending to read.
“You look beautiful as ever, y/n,” he said, leaning one hand on your desk, which made you carefully lean back a bit and chuckle awkwardly. You adjusted your glasses and tried to be polite.
“Thank you, that’s very kind, but I am trying to have my lunch.” The corner of Tsukishima’s mouth lifted.
Unfortunately, this guy was persistent. It’s not the first time he was in there for you, but it’s the first time he brought you something. “I know, so I got you a strawberry soda.” he said, putting said beverage down on the desk and doing a little ‘tadaa’-like movement with his hands.
Tsukishima could not believe what he heard. What an idiot! She doesn’t like soda…
Why is it suddenly so silent? He slowly looked up from the magazine, and he could swear his heart did something weird when he saw your face was turned towards him and lips parted in what seemed like surprise. Both you and your admirer were looking at him because he said that aloud, he realised.
“How do you know that, Stinkyshima?” the guy said in an annoyed voice, and Tsukki could just hear from the tone that he must have overheard that nickname from Hinata. Somewhere down the hall, Tsukki hoped the tangerine could feel his curses in the form of a sneeze.
Tsukishima was about to try and excuse himself from the conversation, but then he looked at you again. Your shoulders were more relaxed and there was some kind of sparkle in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. “She says it all the time,” fell from his lips, and it made you feel so seen.
You cleared your throat, gathering some courage as Tsukishima initiated mission ‘avoid eye contact’. Turning back around to the front, you smiled kindly at the boy who had repeatedly tried to win your affection. You picked up the soda and held it up to him so he could take it back. “Thank you, but he’s right.”
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At the end of the next school day, your friends tried to quickly pull you with them so you could all go to a karaoke place like you planned, but you told them you’d catch up and slowly turned to Tsukishima’s desk where he was putting everything away in his bag at his own pace. You bit your lip nervously as you stepped up beside him, and he startled a bit but hoped you didn’t notice.
“I saw this and it made me think of you,” you said and put something on his desk before turning around and promptly escaping to catch up with your friends before you could see his reaction. Tsukishima picked it up, hooking his finger through a keychain and holding it up so he could see it. Dangling from it was a small brachiosaurus balancing a volleyball on its head.
You bet that was hanging from his bag from that day forward, and anyone who dared make fun of it would get his ugliest glare along with whatever insult he could muster up.
Soon, maybe the two of you would do everyone a favour and stop admiring each other from afar.
masterlist
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thebibliosphere · 3 days
Note
sending this as (yet another) example for the people who keep saying 'migraines are just headaches' and also healthcare providers being good for once
so my mother went in for scheduled surgery the other day. unfortunately, as she was going through intake, she started developing a migraine... the docs came round and figured out what they could give her pre surgery for it, they dimmed the lights in every room she was in, the works
going into surgery, migraine was still there, so a) everyone did everything under dim lights until she was out, and b) the anaesthetist tried to work out a mix of the meds he had to try nuke the migraine while she was out
still she woke up from surgery with the migraine still there. after the meds that numbed her from medical incisions, and extra on top
(the hospital continued to try everything they could, and after several hours sleeping in a dark room and lots of hospital grade drugs, the migraine did leave)
Ooft, that sounds like it truly sucks. I'm so glad her care team were on it and doing all they could to help, but yeah, sometimes you just have to ride it out. Stupid neurological events.
I hope your mom is recovering well from surgery and is migraine-free for a while!
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adventuringblind · 3 days
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AUS24 (3k words)
Oscar Piastri x Liam Lawson x Reader x Logan Sargeant
Genre: Angst, fluff, spice, A/B/O AU
Summary: James Vowels takes things a step further when covering his ass in the media. Logan and his mate pay the price but Oscar and Liam are there to help.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, heat/rut cycles, James Vowels is the bad guy in this one, Alex being a king, Thigh riding, other alluded to sexual things but not specific so IDK what else to put
Notes: This one was a lot and I hope I filled the request okay! I struggled... Therefore y'all should feed my praise kink in order to motivate me. Jk...... unless?
Side Note: My ABO dynamics and how I write it is different so be forewarned ig. Also, NSFW under the cut. MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Oscar didn’t think much of it when he jumped out of the car and didn't see Logan. He figured he’d rushed off to make sure Alex was okay after that nasty crash and see if the team was going to be able to fix the beta’s car. 
Practice had gone pretty decent. He should probably meet up with Lando to talk about how he’d felt in the car. All things considered, he’s mildly optimistic. 
The itch in his neck leaves him wondering which of his three mates could possibly be annoyed. Oscar usually assumes Liam, given the nature of the omega. Oscar had to learn to pick his battles early on. He understands that in entirely alpha or omega families, dynamics have to be flexible. Liam is more alpha coded then he is omega. Unfortunately for the mess of things that is the paddock, people give him shit for it and Oscar has had to haul the kiwi away before he killed somebody. 
Oscar, because he’d prefer not to spend his home race weekend bailing Liam out of jail, speeds off towards the RB garage. He doesn’t have to go far since Liam is also sprinting in his direction. “Oscar! Are you alright? I thought maybe something happened when you got out of the car since I feel all prickly.” The blonde smells both annoyed and concerned. 
Oscar shakes his head. “I thought you might be trying to take the head off Helmut again…” He shakes his head and continues his walk down to the Williams garage with Liam on his heels. “Have you seen the other two at all?” 
“Her and Logan walked down to the William's garage together. That was about twenty minutes ago.” 
On their trek to the end of the paddock, They end up running into George. The second British Omega on the grid. He’s pacing outside of the garage and Oscar has to bite back a gag at how distressed he smells. “George?”
“Oscar! They won’t let me in.” He’s raking fingers through his and getting increasingly more distressed the longer they are stuck outside. “He sent me a text saying something happened, but didn’t elaborate. I can feel his anger.” 
Oscar, because he has no idea what to do in this scenario, sends Liam with George to find Lewis, or Carlos, or Max, or Lando, or anyone else who might know what to do right now because he has no idea. He just needs to see the other half of his mates or he’s going to lose it. 
He tries to flag down anyone in the vicinity, only to be ignored. He’s about ready to come unhinged until he gets the attention of James. The alpha team principal keeps his distance - the invisible boundary line the only thing keeping Oscar from shaking the information out of him. Only, James doesn’t just smell like James. No - he smells like Oscar’s other two omegas. Both of which must be in heat. 
He tries to breathe; reign himself in so he doesn’t lose it and end his entire career (though he will if it comes down to it). “Where are they?” If there is a growl laced within the question, he can’t be bothered to care.”
James looks like he might jump into an explanation of some kind, but gets foiled by Alex. The beta looks pissed. The kind of anger that shows in every movement. 
“JAMES!” While Oscar flinches at the olders tone, James remains calm. It's aggravating in a way. “Tell Oscar what you did or I will.”
James sighs and motions for the Australian to follow him. Alex can't growl, but the way he's seething tells Oscar that he would if he could. It's ironic to think that between the three of them, Alex is the most angry compared to the two alphas trudging through the garage.  
James gestures for him to go inside. The scent leaking through the cracks in the door is terribly seductive and Oscar has to dig his nails into the palm of his hands to ground himself. “Neither of them were supposed to be in heat this early. All four of us are synced and just went through this a month ago.” he stares down the older alpha for an explanation. 
He takes an inventory of his own body. His own reaction to his mates in heat is more… intense. Like he can't keep himself off them. Currently he feels more protective than anything. 
“since James won't tell you, I will-”
“It's team business!” 
“Not when the safety of others is concerned!” 
James makes a lunge for Logan but Oscar matches his speed and steps in front of him. He wants to retch at how awful James smells at the moment. 
Four pairs of footsteps from the direction they had come from. Liam and George have managed to find them and dragged Carlos and Lando as well. It's terribly comforting to have more people around. 
“what's going on?” Lando whines at the door the closer he gets. “Is Logan in heat? But didn't he just have one?” 
Alex is much taller than Oscar, but the beta appreciates the gesture given the nature of how betas usually are towards anyone else. “Oscar, why don't you, me, George and James speak about this in his office. Carlos can come too, if you'd like.” 
“yeah - yeah okay. I need to know what happened.” He looks around for Liam and pulls him away from James. “Sorry - I don't know what's happening. I didn't mean too-” 
Liam attaches himself to the alpha and noses at his neck. “I'll take care of them while you're gone. Lando is going to stay also.” 
Oscar nods, kisses his head, and drags himself away. He doesn't want to go anywhere but inside that room. Be it biology or his own mind, clearly something is wrong and he would desperately like to be there for the people he loves. Still, Liam is here and that makes things better. They aren't alone. 
They settle into chairs in James’ office. Carlos opts to stay by the door watching everything going on outside. “Why are they taking apart Logan's car?” 
Oscar blinks at him. They're what?” 
“I crashed the car and broke the chassis. James decided to punish Logan for it. But that's not even the worst part!” Alex looks expectantly to his team principal. A silent urge for him to tell his own story. He gestures for Alex to come continue on and the beta rolls his eyes. “Logan and y/n walked here together. James summoned them into the office together. He told Logan he was going to give me his car. Obviously, I said no and…” 
George shuffles his way over to Alex. The physical contact between the two seems to lessen Alex's rising emotions. “It was probably my fault, since I kept saying no.” Alex throws a packet of heat inducers on the table. “I was restrained. James didn't show he had a whole package - just dissolved way over the recommended amount into a cup and commanded Logan to drink it. She got to it first so he didn't have to drink it, and downed the entire thing in seconds.” 
“That doesn't explain Logan’s-”
“He had more and just repeated it. Then he used that fucking voice to get them to not tell anybody and lock themselves away.” Alex looks like he's on the brink of tears. “I'm sorry, Oscar.” 
Oh - the rage that's building beneath his skin. He moves to throw himself at James, but is foiled by Carlos. “You can't help from jail.” 
Which, the Spaniard isn't wrong, so Oscar goes limp in his hold. He takes a few ragged breaths to force himself to calm down. “It's not your fault Alex, at all. Sounds to me like it's a move to cover his own ass.” 
“Alex is out best chance-” 
“Bullshit! I just murdered my car!” 
The door to the office is thrown open and Oscar has no time to react to the fact Max and Daniel, his pack alpha and omega - respectively, got word of this. 
“Did we need to alert the entire grid, Alex?” 
Max openly, and without hesitation, growls at the team principal in question. Daniel hits him upside the head to get him to stop. “Where’s Logan at?”
“My driver doesn’t need anymore assistance, Daniel-” 
All of them (aside from Alex) Descend into a fit of threatening noises. “Really? Because heat inducers can fuck up anyone’s body on a normal dose. Trust me James, I’ve been in this scenario with my own team.”
Briefly, Oscar recalls Lando talking about McLaren trying to induce Daniel’s heat without his knowledge. Andrea is a much better team principal and He can vividly recall Lando near sobbing when they were assured that would never happen. 
“In Logan’s room.” 
“Great! Here’s what we’re going to do then.” 
George has to drag Alex away from the Office and back up to his room. The British Omega throws a middle finger at James before he’s out of sight completely. Max is staying with James until things get sorted out. Which - unfortunately since the laws are so unfair - will mean James gets away scot free. Daniel says he’s going to be subjected to a lecture first. The rest of them head back to Logan’s room with the intent on getting out of the building. 
“Should I call Andrea and Zak?” Oscar looks desperately at Daniel for instructions. He’s never had to leave so suddenly and has no clue if there is a protocol for these things or not. 
“No worries, I took care of it. We just need to get them out of the paddock.” the older Aussie pats his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m assuming the four of you aren’t prepared at all?” 
Oscar shakes his head. “We all synched just last month.” 
“Anything you need then? I can send George and Alex on errands. Actually, I’m hoping for that seeing as Alex is desperate to help.” 
“I hope he sees that this isn’t his fault.”
“He’ll come around, I hope you know it’s not your fault either.” 
And here Oscar thought he was hiding it so well. He tries to shake it off, play his own insecurities down. “I’m-”
“Relax mate, Max felt guilty for weeks.”
“But it’s my job to protect them-” The voice crack was unnecessary and completely screwed him over in terms of hiding whatever feeling he had buried.
Daniel turns to face him right outside the door. “You can’t change the past, Oscar. You were never going to be able to stop this from happening. What you can do is help them now because they need you.” 
Oscar nods with newfound determination, and opens the door.
She certainly wouldn’t say it was her greatest decision, definitely one of the easier ones in the moment. She’d downed the drink without a hesitation. 
They’d attempted a nest. Tried to make the room comfortable. The amount of drugs in their systems was not making it easy. Instead opting to throw everything on the floor and try to sleep before they can’t. 
They’d stripped down to undergarments within the last few minutes. The heat steadily building and becoming too much. Still, she lays plastered against Logans body; his scent intoxicating. 
“You didn’t have to do that for me.” He noses at her neck, teeth nipping at the three scars lining her collar bone. 
“Wanted to help, Lo.” She feels like crying. The odd lack of connection bombarded her after James used his stupid voice. “Wanted you to race.” 
The door squeaks open sometime later. After a nap and the first round of what will probably be many. She peaks her head out from around Logan who’s gone defensive from the new intrusion. Only - Liam peaks his head inside and Lando follows before shutting the door again. She whimpers and tries to claw her way to Liam, but is pushed back gently by Lando. 
“He’s grabbing a few things.” She can see him trying to smile gently at her. 
Liam ends up between them, his own shirt off and one of Oscar’s sweatshirts in hand. She makes herself as small as possible to curl up into his side. “Do you two need anything specific right now.” 
“Where’s Osc?” Logan beats her to the question. 
“Talking with James, I believe.” 
The whines are involuntary. That part of her brain still fighting for its life wants to know why he’s not here right now. The overthinking side is claiming it’s because she’s undesirable now. “Does he still want us?” 
Liam coos at her, as does Logan and Lando. “You'll never not be undesirable.” 
“But what about James?”
“What do you mean?” She can feel Liams muscles tense underneath her. She shrinks in an attempt to hide from the new angry scent permeating the room. 
Thankfully, Logan takes over for her. “He used his voice on us. He wanted to give me inducers…” 
She, despite the struggle, rolls herself over Liam and into Logan's lap. “Not your fault.”
“I know-” his desperate whine nearly kills her. And Liam - by the looks of it. He's restraining himself if the way his jaw is tensing is any indicator. 
“Lando, would you mind possibly grabbing mine and Oscar's stuff so we don't have to leave here again if possible?” It's not fair really, that Liam can be bossy and she finds it attractive.  Oscar is also bossy, but he’s the gentle bossy and Logan isn’t bossy at all. Wow - her stupid hormones have her drooling over this and she doesn’t even know what this is. 
Liam makes up a list for Lando and the Brit runs off to collect the items. She wonders how long Oscar is going to be and if the ache in between her legs will let up until they can leave. 
It’s the only thing on her mind. It’s also now all over her thighs. An unfortunate circumstance where there are no towels on the ground. At this rate she might die if she can’t do something about these feelings and the longer she waits the more desperate she becomes. 
“Do you need something, darling?” Her hazy mind decides that now is a great time to register that she’s grinding into Liam's leg. She doesn’t stop though. If anything - she can’t, because he has a hand on her hip urging her to continue. “Only one of me at the moment, is this okay for now?” She makes a weak sound and makes a mess of herself and Liam’s poor thigh. Not like Logan is doing any better. They both smell good like this. 
She has no idea how much time passes, the endless amount of work she’s having to do finally wears her out enough to relax for the time being. 
“I guess I should’ve stripped all the way, huh?” She’s too tired to be embarrassed about Liam’s teasing comments. She barely even notices Liam attempting to clean her up. Her mind is too far gone. Enough that her and Logan are both ready to go again after a few measly minutes.
They don't get very far, instead scrambling under whatever is available as the door swings open. Liam is hissing at the intruder, only to see Oscar and Lando poke their heads inside. 
“Hey Daniel, I think maybe we’ll stay here for the time being and then when the traffic of the paddock dies down we can try and leave.” 
Daniel also slips into their space. She makes a lunge for either of the two Australians. Oscar is quick to react to her movements and get her to stay put underneath the little amount of covering she has. 
Lando drops the bags of stuff he was holding and tries to smile at them before he leaves. Unfortunately, his sad scent gives away his true feelings. She wonders if he knows the full story now since Oscar definitely does. 
It’s just her, her mates, and Daniel now. The pack Omega is hovering by the door and is clearly ready to leave them to their own devices. “Keep in mind that reactions to heat inducers are unpredictable but fast. You’ll only be in “heat” for about a day. Then you’ll just be sick, but we’ll take it as it comes.” 
Daniel reminds Oscar to text him if they need anything and then leaves them alone. Which - she likes Daniel, but being able to jump the bones of her mates sounds all too appealing. 
“James?” Logan looks pleadingly at Oscars for some kind of reassurance. 
“Is going to get an earful from Max and Daniel. Aside from that, he will probably get a slap on the wrist. Alex is ready to kill him though, if that’s what you wanted.”
The three of them find humor despite the nature of the situation. It’s why she loves them so much. The way she can feel safe and taken care of, but still be herself and laugh and give into her own desires. 
Oscar loses his own clothes. The fireproofs he was wearing around his waist come off in record time. 
“You're still going to race, right Osc?”
“We’ll see-” Oscar nearly jumps when the three of them whine and pout in unison. “I take it that you want me to race?” 
“We’ll make do without you.” 
“Hey!-”
“Liam is good for something after all!” Logan wheezes in laughter. Only for Liam to grumble and decide enough is enough. He takes Logan by the hips and slams right into him. 
She looks between the two of them and Oscar. She leans up to his ear, fully intent on whispering to him but gets a little distracted by his scent while shifting around.
“Need something?” 
Finally, she surrenders herself to the haze knowing she has all her mates with her. “Just you three.” 
200 notes · View notes
occamstfs · 2 days
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No Need to Apply
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Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam
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Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.
It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.
Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.
Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.
In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 
He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 
Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”
Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”
It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.
He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 
Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.
Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 
He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 
He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 
Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.
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The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 
His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 
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He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.
He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.
He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.
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Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 
Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.
Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?
He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 
Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.
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If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!
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hanjsquokka · 2 days
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lee know × fem!reader , fluff , angst , comfort , non-sexual nudity , 0.7K words
this is all over the place but i wrote this when i was feeling down and it just screamed minho for me. also i recommended listening to those eyes by new west. i immediately thought of minho when i heard that. maybe i might write a fic based on it, but for now have this comfy drabble <3
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sometimes, it felt like the world was out to get you. like it was just showing you reasons for why you weren't supposed to be there. maybe to other people, a simple act of mistakenly ignoring a hello was nothing. but when a cascade of tiny things happened like this, it was enough to put a dent in your armor.
maybe you were overreacting when minho didn't kiss you goodbye that morning like he always did. but you couldn't help but let your thoughts spiral into chaos. was he mad at you for something? you racked your brain but you couldn't come up with a single incident that could've caused him to get upset.
his cats sprung off of you when you tried to put them in your lap.
why was the whole world against you?
the coffee shop you went to gave you the completely wrong drink and you were too disheartened to correct it.
work was tedious and by the time you came home, you felt so beaten down, so through with everything, you didn't even notice your boyfriend in the living room, idly scrolling through his phone. his call for you went through one ear and came out the other.
you went for the bathroom and turned the tap on, entering the pool of warm water after taking off your clothes. knees pulled to your chest, you hoped the running water would drown out your sobs.
unfortunately, minho had the ears of a cat — maybe he picked it up after having his three cats for so long. he hesitated in front of the door, hearing your sobs made his heart break. was there something he missed? he nudged the wood open, stepping inside slowly and once again calling your name out.
“hey…” he crossed over to the bathtub and sat on the edge, “what's wrong?” he placed a hand over your head, stroking the damp hair.
you sniffled and paused your sobs long enough to speak. “do you hate me?”
he froze. he was baffled. shocked. “of course not… why would you think that?”
your ears turned red, he could see that much as you hid your face in your knees. you mumbled something but he could only hear incoherent babbles. “you didn't leave in the morning like you usually do.”
he was confused. his mind rewinded to that morning. chan had texted to come early for practice, so he rushed and —
a light bulb went off in his head, followed by a teasing smile. “ah, i forgot to kiss you goodbye?” your flushed face only gave it away. he chuckled, stepping into the tub with his clothes, not caring if they got wet. to your weak protest, he only said, “i've seen you like this plenty of times. there's nothing more to hide,” to which you whined. sitting in front of you, he uncovered your face and cupped your jaw. a smile was plastered over his face. a rare, beautiful smile that made his big eyes sparkle. a look he knew you'd never be able to deny. “let me make up for that.” he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, relishing the taste of you for a few moments before pulling away. “now tell me what's wrong princess.”
an hour later, the two of you were tangled together in bed, the cats snuggled into the blankets. he stroked your hair, singing softly, arms wrapped around you protectively as if he was shielding you from the harsh world that was previously kicking you to the ground again and again.
“when you feel like the whole world is against you, remember that you have me, okay?” he said quietly, when he thought you were asleep, nestled into his side under the warm blankets when you were very much awake. those words were enough to soothe your wounds, a calming balm to all your aches. you didn't reply, letting silence fill the room until he began to sing softly again.
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©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited
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mostly-imagines · 20 hours
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Guard Dog vol. II
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II
3 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader
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“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”
You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.
You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”
He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”
“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”
You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”
“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”
You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”
He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”
“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.
“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.
You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.
You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.
He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.
You laugh lightly, “What?”
He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”
You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.
“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”
He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”
“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.
He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”
You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”
He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”
“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.
“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.
No, it’s not fair at all.
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It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.
You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—
The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.
You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.
“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”
He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.
He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.
He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.
“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.
You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”
He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”
You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”
He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.
He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.
Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.
He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.
As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.
You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.
Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.
He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.
He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.
He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”
You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
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Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.
The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.
And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.
At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.
You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase well.
Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.
He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.
He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are pleading now, already worried.
You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’d got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.
“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”
His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”
You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”
“Jason—”
“Who did it?”
“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”
The pleading in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.
“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you then for him.
“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.
He stares at you. “In the hallway?”
You blink. “…Yeah?”
He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.
You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.
“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.
He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.
“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.
He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.
The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.
Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.
Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.
You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.
You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.
Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”
No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.
“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.
He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him touch some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”
You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now but it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.
“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.
You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.
“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”
“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.
This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.
He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.
“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.
You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”
“Is that a yes?”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”
He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.
You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying. “And don’t get in trouble.”
Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.
“Hey, bud.”
He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.
Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”
He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”
He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”
He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”
Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.
Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”
The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”
Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”
“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”
Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.
“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.
Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”
The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.
Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”
Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.
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blueberryarchive · 2 days
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The One Were Jungkook;
more slasher!jk
𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨; slasher, 80s, psychological horror
𝙩𝙬; non-con, somnophilia, horror, violence, blood
(thank you to @hoseokshobagi for helping me with this big mess, I love u, shut up)
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NY, 1985
The little ol' Brew House wasn't like the bar you went to with Jimin. It was so small that you could feel the sweat running down your back, the ghost of a hand or a glance behind you with every step. There was a sour smell of old, dried beer on the rustic green furniture and freshly disinfected vomit in the corner where Jungkook motioned for you to sit.
"Sit down, don't move."
You climbed onto the cracked brown leather stool, your bare thighs sticking to it like Velcro. A band was playing Iron Man on the other side and it was so uncoordinated that it matched the people sitting there: middle-aged men in blue-collar jobs, women in black leather skirts and foreign students with little money, underworld poets and their upper class girlfriends living the fantasy of muses sitting one their boyfriend's thighs while they discussed Bob Dylan and Williams Burroughs. A green and brown amalgam of sweaty skin drinking warm beer and watered down whiskey.
You couldn't help but compare both places.
Sweaty Joe's was a bar just two corners from the university, it was bathed in colored lights and posters as old as the owners of the place themselves. Red leather sofas were distributed in the corners and those, for years, have belonged to the Maroon Knights players.
This is where you met Jimin, it was your first week and you and Bobby Joe decided to have a beer, you two were new, smiled candidly at each gentleman who offered you another drink. You had never done that in the small town where you came from.
Jimin was celebrating his first winter tournament, his crimson cheekbones and his elegant smile conquered your heart, he let you sleep in his room in the trailer where he lived with his four brothers. His hands never took yours without first asking you, never looked away. You fell asleep so quickly in that bed while the little snores of the quaterback kept you stable, safe.
At dawn, you couldn't even see his face, you spent a week avoiding the hallways where he frequented until you did what your mother did to apologize to people: you baked some cookies. Unfortunately, he was on a diet but he still accepted them, his younger brother would eat them all with pleasure, you offered him a kiss and he let himself go.
That afternoon you lost your virginity behind his secong-hand orange Pontiac, white cotton panties crumpled and drooled between your teeth as Jimin held your calves. You cried so much that he forgot to moan, but your boyfriend wiped away each tear with his wet tongue and his thumbs until his cum fell thickly onto your skirt and his uniform.
The second time was different. What you don't know is that you cooking for him lit a spark, a simple breeze in a dry forest and you were the summer sun. You were going to be his wife, he promised you, with drooping eyelids and your pelvis on top of a pillow, his hands guiding your ass until they collided with his waist.
“I'm going to make you mine, I'm going to buy you a house and a huge ring. Fuck—you’re going to have to stop me at some point because I’m going to get you pregnant every time you smile at me, love. Doesn't Ms. Park have a ring to it?" He growled grabbing your hair to pull you closer to his sweaty chest.
“What is that pretty head of yours thinking about, huh?” Jungkook snapped his fingers at you, placing a long mug of beer in front of you. The second cigarette of the afternoon dangled between his fingers as he waited for you to take a drink, his eyes darting from your chest to your hair. “I saw you look at the ring on your finger.”
“My boyfriend gave it to me a month ago.” You said fixing the thin silver ring, a promise desperate to be fulfilled.
“How very” The boy laughed, choking on the smoke, you held the beer and took a long drink.
You realized that men when they exist in a cloud of promises and anonymity are more fuckable, because now seeing the metalhead in front of you, you just wanted to hit him.
“I don't understand why you keep yapping when you're not here to hear me speak.”
“I didn't want us to move on to fucking so quickly, but if you can't wait, then we'll make a little something in the alley.” Seeing your face blush he laughed again. “I'm kidding, doll. Don’t be so rigid.”
With a whistle, Jeon effortlessly caught the eye of a man nearby. His muscles were noticeably defined, and he sported a pair of square glasses that added a touch of charm. Dressed in a casual plaid shirt, his hair styled like a military man. Spotting Jeon, his face lit up with recognition, and he quickly closed the distance between you.
“Kim, I thought you weren't coming to the meeting.” Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of the man's slight tensing as his friend spoke, but without skipping a beat, his hand gently landed on his friend's shoulder.
"What do you mean?"
"You literally said-"
"No, I didn't. Gosh, give me a break."
Hoseok looked in your direction with a hint of distrust, the creases on his face sharpening with each step you took. You walked closer, his eyes traced your body from head to toe, his initial skepticism fading away the moment he reached your side. Your little shorts and Wham! t-shirt hugged your curves tightly, clinging to your tits like a sculpture of marble.
"What's this?" Hoseok pointed at you and moved his fingers up and down.
"Come, I want to introduce you to my friend. We met in…" Jungkook's smile widened as he tilted his hand. “Well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you have to make a place for her in the club, wouldn't you gladly have one of the sweetest pieces of meat of the whole faculty on the team, eh?”
Jungkook looked in your direction again, he knew that the way he spoke caused tremendous disgust in you and he enjoyed it. “This is Hoseok, the president of the archery club. Greet him before he hates you for some reason.”
"Shut up." Hoseok's voice cut through the air as he extended his arm to shake yours, his calloused hand brushing against your skin. His sharp eyes studied your hands intently, examining every detail. "You got weird fingers."
"Is that how you give compliments to pretty girls?"
Hoseok let out a sigh, nonchalantly plucking the cigarette from Jungkook's mouth. With a subtle gesture, he motioned for his friend to approach while bringing the cigarette to his own lips.
“If you want to fuck one of the cheerleaders, find another way, I'm not going to put her in the club, dude.” His failed attempt at whispering, which was clearly intentional, didn't escape your ears.
“Do you think I have to fuck one of you to be part of your Disney Heroe theatre team?”
Hoseok's eyebrow arched, while leaning back against the bar stool. With a confident yet subtle sway, he adjusted his posture, his pelvis shifting ever so slightly, but still managing to catch your eye. A mischievous grin formed on one side of his lips, knowing full well of the effect he had on you. “And why the hell are you looking for me if you don't need me, Barbie?"
"I'm here to let you know that I'll be waiting for you in the green area on Monday at 3, expecting you to hand me a bow and arrow," You declared, a sweet smile playing on your lips like a precious jewel shimmering beneath a cloak of innocence as you deftly snatched the cigarette from between his parted lips. "And I hope you show up with a smile that could outshine the sun and a more decent cologne."
Hoseok scoffed with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed by your little rebel talk as you took a drag from his stolen cigarette.
"You do realize you'll be the only woman in the group, right? The guys ain't going to like you, they tend to be very…"
"Terrified of women," Jeon chimed in, leaning against your shoulder.
"Exclusive," Hoseok added.
"They'll probably do a jerk-off circle if they see me in a skirt." You quipped, a sly smile playing on your lips.
The three of you looked at the cubicle where the a few memebers sat, all upper class kids who couldn't get into anything in their lives without Mommy opening the door for them first.
“Whatever, you're not even that hot, they'll live.”
You smiled, turning around on your stool to continue drinking your beer. “See you on Monday, four eyes.”
“Bye, Hobi-Bobby.” Jungkook rested his arm on the bar, his eyes positioned on your profile.
“Do you want to fuck now? I love women who know how to silence men, i'm already hard.”
"Why are you so fucking disgusting?"
"You're the one sitting next to me, you can go now." And he waited. You stayed there, speechless and waiting, too.
"Kim?"
"Who?"
“The dickhead called you Kim.”
“I don't know who that is, sweetheart.”
“Mm.” You nodded. You weren't too sure now. “Are you sure you're the one I talked to that night?”
"I promise you." Jungkook dragged his stool closer to your ear, the smell of nicotine and shaving cream was pleasant, manly. "Are those sugar tits as sweet as that voice of yours?"
“What time did I call you?” You ignored his nutty breath.
���Are you questioning me now?”
"Yeah."
His jaw tensed, biting the inside of his cheeks.
“I'm going to give you some advice, doll. If you want things to go well today, don't question me.”
You felt a rush cover your back, the beer felt colder on your fingers and you were more aware of his proximity. You were in his territory, you didn't know anyone there, you were screwed.
“Can you answer me just one thing and that's it?”
Jungkook moved closer and nodded, his pupils stabbing at your lips waiting for you to say something out of line so he would have an excuse to destroy you with.
“Why do people think you are weird?”
His sigh collided with your neck, a smile woven little by little; you could see stars in his eyes when he moved back. The raw desire to show you why.
He leaned close to your ear and whispered slowly, the urge to laugh drowned out by his words. Both his hands hiding his lips like a child. You swallowed as you finished listening, a long drink to finish the remaining beer.
He pulled out a new cigarette before your eyes met his again.
“So, in your room or mine?” He mumbled before lightning the tip.
“I'm- I think I'm going home.”
"Isn't your home in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, you silly little bun'?"
The man in front of you pouted, nodding with a dejected face when he saw you stand up, the large mug of beer hitting your trembling anatomy. You wanted to vomit, to shed your own skin to pieces, to vanish, to crawl along the road back home like a mass of nerves and to sleep in your bed until you forgot what this psychopath had just hummed in your ear in the middle of the crowd.
But what did you expect? Wasn't this what you were looking for?
That's why curiosity ends up being the cruelest animal feeling. It takes you to the cheese on top of the trap, it makes you look at the sun and go blind, it makes you run through the grass until you fall at the bottom of nowhere. Voices like Jungkook's end up taking you to a seedy bar, at the mercy of God if he is even allowed in these parts.
“Come on, I'll take the bike down for you, then.”
You grabbed your backpack and walked in front of Jeon, stares like needles digging into your shorts.
Outside, his arms stretched out to take the bicycle, as light as a feather.
“I would've take you to college but-”
“I think this is where our journey ends, Jungkook.” Your voice was firm, elegant. You knew when to say goodbye.
He remained silent, one last smile as a gift. "If you say so." His hands opened dramatically to show you the road.
You raised your leg until you sat down and accelerated down the street, the sun hiding on the horizon. You didn't know if it was the wind hitting your cheeks and eyes, but you felt the cold stream go down to your neck. You wanted the road to get shorter in front of you and suddenly you were crying like a lost child, the sharp exhale stinging your lungs, you took all the alleys you recognized and the ones you didn't and you looked around at the desolate sides of New York.
Hiding from the sun your skin grew cold and the sobs turned to murmurs praying that you would return alive to the arms of Steph or Bobby Joe.
But oh, how angelic you looked with the halo of Jungkook's car headlights on your back. A honk chilled your blood until you couldn't do anything but grip the handlebars until your knuckles turned white.
“I changed my mind, I'll take you.” His breathing was jagged, he was sweating deeply, swallowing hard to hide the psychosis.
“It won't be long now and my boyfriend is waiting for me.”
“Don't worry, just load the bike and I'll drop you off at his house.”
'No' was not an answer and you knew that, no one ever said no to her and if they did no woman managed to keep her tongue to say it.
"Roger that. Thank you, Jungkook, you are a gentleman.”
“Of course, get off the bike now.” "She muttered as she snatched the iron from your hands and threw it behind her vehicle.
The trip was lethargic, the music faltered in the car with each curve until you reached a neighborhood of white houses and yellowish lights, the crickets chirped in the safe silence of a suburb. You thought about getting out when the car stopped and screaming until your lungs vomited.
But of course when you arrived the garage door was open, the car slid across the smooth concrete without a sound.
“Do you mind if I look for a few things before I take you home?” His voice sounded so carefree that you almost believed you were going back to your dorm room. You shook your head as he went down to close the garage door, the darkness consuming your hope.
Your heart began to beat blood so fast that your hands began to try to open your door, Jungkook tilted his head at the noise until he saw your reflection in the side mirror.
"Why you do that? God, you’re so stupid.” Jungkook took your hair in his hands and without much effort dragged you out of the vehicle and onto the garage floor. His hand covered your mouth, his calloused and sweaty fingers undoing the button on your Levi's until they stuck to your ankles.
“It's only once, you have to reward me for the beer you had.” His voice burned in your ear along with the beating of your heart, a light hum of your soul trying to get away from your dirty body.
“Mm-” You groaned as you felt the fabric of his jeans mold between your ass. Moving was in vain, fighting a mere fantasy.
“Just a quickie and then I'll drop you off, don't be so rigid.”
Your body was puppeteered to the living room with dim lights, curved and modern furniture that someone paid great attention to match with the upholstery and the carpet that decorated the floor.
And your body was thrown to the edge of the pink couch, the metal underneath the cloth digging into your stomach, your ass in the air as you felt cold hands remove your underwear. Why weren't you moving? Why did you let this happen to you? What was your mom doing right now? You thought of her chubby body moving around her room while organizing her dresses.
Warm spit fell onto your pussy and you closed your eyes, the last tear creating a shadow on the corrugated carpet as Jungkook slid his cock around the entrance to wet the entire area. The phone rang five, six, ten times next to you. Beep.
Hello, you are calling the sweet home of Bee, Dr. Kim and Taehyung. We are on vacation in Florida, but when we arrive we will take your message. Bye bye!
Who were the animated voices humming on the phone and why was Jungkook's voice there? You looked at the stranger loosening his grip on the sudden crackling laughter coming from the small speaker on the phone.
"Fuck." The now stranger mumbled, holding your neck with his forearm.
"You got the wrong kid, callgirl." And your eyes opened like a full moon, you looked at the closed windows of the room. “Taehyung, you have ten to hide.”
"Shit." Taehyung whimpered behind you pushing your body to the ground, instinctively you grabbed his leg causing his body to fall to the ground next to yours.
If you were going to die today, you wouldn't do it alone.
"Five, six…"
“What the fuck are you doing, you fucking whore?! I will die if he finds me.” His reddened face dragged trying to take your sudden weight and strength off of him. It was useless. Black Sabbath began to play above the house, reverberating, like thousands of wasps between the walls. “I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please. Let me go."
Taehyung's head reached the kitchen when a worn military boot stopped his movements. The muddy sole of the boot collided with Taehyung's head, making it bounce again and again and again against the wood of the kitchen. It was a hollow, wet sound, more forceful with each blow.
You leaned your body back until you collided with the sofa, your nails anchored in the carpet.
"Sorry. I'm sorry, ple-” Taehyung tried to speak until the boot took the last hit and his jaw hung from his mouth like a toy. His eyes looked back with mercy. Run, he shouted to you with his bleeding eyes, run until you die but run. A broomstick passed through his mouth until his body bounced once more.
So still.
Drool was falling from the corners from having your mouth open for so long. Why didn't you run? Is it that the boot you were looking for so long? Was the cruelty of being curious true?
An excessively tall figure passed through the kitchen frame, avoiding Taehyung's lifeless body. Black was the first thing you saw, the dirty jeans, the leather jacket tied around his waist, the Motley Crue tank top pressing against his chest and shoulders. Sweat dripped from his mullet to his tattoos.
His face, soft and covered in red. His oval nose and thin lips, eyes like a dead deer. Metal surrounding the room like the choir of fallen angels.
It was him, it was Jungkook.
“Poor little thing.” He licked his lips as he held your chin so you were looking at him. “Look at you, so afraid of that fucking-” he growled under his breath, getting down to your level.
"Please do not kill me." You cried, the air was thick, like sulfur around him.
“I didn't promise you that in the call, baby. Did you forget already?"
His hands were delicate under your armpits until he lifted you up and took your body to the furniture sitting you on top of his wide thighs. Your body looking at the turned off television, the curved reflection showed the difference in size. You were a doll on top of that beast.
“Put your foot up.” He ordered as he grabbed your knee to help you put on your Levi's with the softness of a creature in feather hands. "Stop crying."
“I can't, I'm too scared, I want to go home.”
"Pity." Jungkook sighed, taking your underwear from his jeans, wet with some chemical. His tattooed fingers took the flimsy cotton to your nose. Bitter at first and then it burned in your lungs. “Don't try to fight it, it'll be worse for you, baby. Atta girl, just let go, inhale.” His voice was serious, unharmed, like an anesthetic just like the clorophorm. There was no harm in closing your eyes if you were in the great hands of a beast, a mammoth.
"I like you girls manageable, stupid." Was the last thing you heard, a smile grazing your neck.
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Your body rose without permission, abrupt. The pain was immeasurable.
“Jimin, she's up!” You heard a small voice in the corner of a familiar room, the sheets rough and thick.
The silhouette of Jimin's younger brother ran to the kitchen. The other two brothers approached the door, their blond heads peeking out. Jimin pushed them until he reached you.
“Hyung-”
“Shut the door, JP. I’m sick of you, just eat your fucking breakfast and get out of the house.” Jimin shouted, looking at his brothers out of the corner of his eye.
The slow footsteps receded and Jimin turned his attention to you.
“Love, no, don't cry. I'm here.”
His name fell from your lips desperately as you squeezed his face, consuming every detail so your body knew it was real and wouldn't squirm like a worm.
“Breathe with me, come on.”
You closed your eyes hugging your boyfriend's neck.
“Come on, I've prepared a hot bath for you in the twins' room.” You shook your head frantically without breaking away. “It's just to get the mud off your body, then we'll go back to bed.”
"Mud?"
“Minjun found you outside this morning, do you know where you were last night, who did this to you?”
You grabbed the sheets and uncovered your body, bruises covering your legs and stomach. The dried mud covering the sheets of Jimin's bed. A scream choked in your throat.
“Its okay, I can change the sheets. Don’t worry about that. Let's go champ, up.” Jimin patted your injured thigh so you would chain your legs around his abdomen. With a grunt, Jimin lifted you up and carried you to a makeshift tub of hot water.
The little beds were together on one side of the small room, a metal tub emanating sweet steam covering the walls of the room in a thin web of drops.
“Raise your arms.” Jimin kissed your neck gently, the nausea returning little by little but you just let your body melt in the arms of the only person who mattered. His eyes shone with the concern of a father, he undressed you as quickly as possible so that the bruises didn't have time to hurt. Reaching your shorts, he knelt in front of you and stared at your tired face.
“I shouldn't have gone to the bar last night.” He wavered his speech for a second as he slowly lowered the zipper.
“Shh.” Your hand fell into his messy hair, he was still wearing his pajamas, what time did Jungkook throw you in front of Jimin's trailer?
The silence became strange, different. You didn't understand Jimin's sudden furrowed eyebrows when he took off your Levi's.
“Minnie?”
“Motherf-” Jimin stood up and hit the wall hard. His body turned around until he was looking at the jeans on the floor again. “That's it, I'm calling Yoongi.”
"What? Yoongi, what for? Minnie, don't leave, please."
"Don't move!"
Your boyfriend disappeared from the room before you asked him what was happening. You sighed with a heavy heart as you walked in pain to the shots on the floor: a wide, slimy stain extended from front to back. The pants fell to the floor and you went to the mirror on the wall.
Your trembling finger curved until you felt the hole between your legs, the whitish and salty cum thread stretched from your entrance to your shocked face.
You don't remember Taehyung penetrating you. Was Jungkook such an animal that he came inside while you were passed out? How could he?
Tears gathered in your eyes as you laughed silently, the pain was unbearable around your waist and legs, pussy still numb and you could only remember the patterns on the carpet.
Cruel curiosity.
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