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barefoot-joker · 2 months

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Destined for Heaven, Stolen by the Devil~ Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys and welcome to another Lucifer story. I'm sorry I write for him a lot. I just find to him be a very relatable character and I love him so much! Anyway, this fic deals with heavy Christianity themes, so I did my best to research. If something is wrong, please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it. I was very inspired by the song 'The Plagues' from "The Prince of Egypt". As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2899

Warnings: Heavy Christianity Themes/Beliefs, Swearing, Christianity Mocking, Slight Possessive Tendencies, Reader's Aunt likes crystals, Reader Dies, Kidnapping?

I sighed as my mother pulled a light blue cardigan over my shoulders. She dusted off my dress and fixed my hair so that I looked presentable. Today was Sunday so that meant we had to go to church. I wasn’t too fond of going and I would have rather been playing in the backyard as a twelve year old does. However, my mom made it her duty to take me and make me a good Christian girl. “Why do we have to go, mom? It’s soooo boring!”

I stuck out my tongue at her. She gently pushed it back in. “You know I want our family to have a good relationship with the Lord. It’s our Christian duty. Besides, going to church is in your blood. After all-”

“Yeah, yeah. God told you that I was destined to be a wife for Adam. How can you believe that? It came to you in a dream.”

“Y/n M/n L/n! You do not question God’s ways! You know better! Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Dragging me by the hand, she ushered me into the family Cadillac and sped off. I sighed heavily. There were so many things I’d rather be doing than go to church. I could be with my friends, heck I could be at my cool Aunt’s house. “Hey, mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“When are we going to visit Aunt Hailey? When she called you said we’d be seeing her soon.”

“I only said that to get her off my back. You know how I feel about her.”

I grunted and crossed my arms. Aunt Hailey was seen as the black sheep in the family all because she was wealthy. A lot of our relatives (my mother included) thought she sold her soul to the Devil in order to be immensely rich and refused to interact with her. I, however, thought she was so cool. When she used to come over she’d regale to me hundreds of stories about her travels around the world. She even showed me her cool crystal collection when we went over to her house a few times. “Now don’t be like that. It’s not ladylike.”

I grunted again and slid down in the tan leather seat. A few minutes later the car was parked in the church parking lot and I was being dragged inside. Sometimes I wish I had siblings so I wasn’t the only one to feel mom’s wrath. She seated us near the front and handed me the heavy white Bible from the pew. I robotically turned to the page with the Lord’s prayer and stood when Pastor Bob entered. We began reciting the Lord’s prayer and sang a hymn before we sat. I didn’t pay much attention as our Priest told us his sermon for the day but I didn’t dare to look around the room. I had to look the part after all. Fidgety, I played with my ring finger. Glancing down, I took in the birthmark that oddly looked like an apple. I remember it showing up after I stayed at Aunt Hailey’s house one day. I never told my mother about it though. I was often reminded of the tale of Eve and the apple and I don’t know what she would do if ever saw the fruit insignia. After the sermon and another hymn, it was time for communion. We all stood in line and when it was my turn I took the small Ritz cracker and ate it. I coughed lightly and then took a sip from the golden chalice. My mom and I returned to our seats and when everyone was done, we recited the Lord’s prayer one final time. Thank goodness it was over.

As we walked out, I was forced to shake hands with our elderly Pastor. “How is my favorite little disciple doing today?”

I cringed at that. Ever since my mother told the church of her insane dream I was treated like some goddess. “Good.”

“That’s great to hear. I look forward to our weekly blessing.”

“Of course, Pastor Bob,” my mom butted in, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

He smiled and bid us both ado. We walked back to the car and drove home. As we passed by houses in our neighborhood, I looked longingly at the kids playing. Besides church, Sunday was dedicated to my education of becoming a housewife so when I did die and go to Heaven I was prepared. Parking the car, we went inside. I slipped off my Mary Janes and put them by the door. The rest of the day was spent cleaning, doing embroidery work and cooking. Just as I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang. I went into the kitchen and picked up the landline. “Hello?”

“Is my dear Y/n there?”

“This is her.”

“It’s your Aunt Hailey.”

“Auntie! Hi! How are you?”

She chuckled. “I am good, my darling. And you? Surviving another day in that stuffy house?”

I giggled at her commentary. “I’ve been okay. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering when you can come over. I was talking with a friend the other day and he would like to meet you properly. I believe he saw you at my house when you were five.”

“I’d love to come over! Let me ask mom real quick.”

I walked into the living room and pressed the phone to my chest. “Hey, mom. Aunt Hailey’s on the phone. She wants to know when I can come over.”

She looked up from her book and glared at the phone. “You know my answer.”

“Come on, mom! It’ll just be for a day!”

“I don’t know.”

“Please! I promise when I get back I’ll focus on my wifely duties! Please!”

I gave her puppy dog eyes and slightly whimpered. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright. You can go tomorrow, but I expect you to stay true to your promise. You know how God would feel if you went back on your word.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I lifted the phone up to my ear and quickly ran into the kitchen. “She said I can come tomorrow.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you then, my dear.”

“Bye, Auntie!”

“Goodbye for now, darling.”

I ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver. I returned to the living room where mom and I did our nightly prayer. When we finished, she gave my forehead a kiss and sent me to bed.

The next morning I dressed in a plaid dress shirt, brown capri pants and black oxfords. I bounced in the passenger seat giddily as my mother parked the car in my Aunt’s gravel driveway. “Now remember to behave. I don’t need any calls about your disobedience.”

“I’ll be good, I will.”

“That’s my girl. And you have your cross necklace?”

“Yes, mom. Can I go now?”

She kissed my forehead and I got out of the car. “Be safe! Call me if something happens and I’ll be back around dinner to pick you up!”

“Okay mom, bye!”

I waved and she drove off. I turned towards my relative’s mansion and walked up the stone steps. I grabbed the handle from the golden lion’s head and gave three loud knocks on the large oak door. The door opened to reveal Timothy, my Hailey’s middle aged butler. “Ah Miss Y/n, we were expecting you. Please come in.”

He stood to the side and allowed me inside. Closing the door, he led me across the marble floor to one of the drawing rooms near the back. I could hear muffled voices talking as we entered, Timothy clearing his throat. “Your niece is here, madam.”

“Thank you, Timothy. That will be all.”

He bowed and exited the room. My Auntie smiled and gestured for me to come over. I ran to her and gave her a big hug. Her navy silk and lace dress clung to me. “It’s so good to see you, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

I pulled away and she motioned to the gold and floral print armchair next to her. I sat and looked at her guest on the chaise lounge. He seemed quite the esteemed gentleman. He had slicked back blonde hair, pale skin and red eyes. I found them quite odd but didn’t judge. Mother said it was bad to judge based upon appearances. He wore a white suit with a red dress shirt, a black tie with black flower detailing, black leather gloves and shiny black dress shoes. He was on the shorter side as well. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my friend Luci. He’s the one to thank for my wealth.”

The man stood and bowed to me. He took my hand and kissed my apple birthmark. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my little apple. Your Aunt has told me so much about you.”

“It’s good to meet you too, sir.”

“So polite. Your mother is raising you right.”

“Except for the amount of gospel she puts in my poor baby’s head. I swear all because of her fucking dream, she’s gone total Bible thumper.”

Luci titled his head to the side. “Oh you’ll have to tell me over tea. Speaking of which, I think Timothy has finished setting up the garden for us.”

“Splendid!”

We all stood and the blonde offered me his arm. I gladly took it and we walked outside to Hailey’s marble floored porch. A metal table sat in the middle overlooking her large flower garden, a lacy white tablecloth set on top. Luci pulled out my chair and after I sat, pushed it in. He sat next to me and began pouring tea for all of us. Today Timothy had picked out the clear glass kettle so we could see the yellow liquid inside and the pastel teacups. I thanked Auntie’s friend when he poured into my cup and marveled at the small pink flower floating. “I see we’re having chrysanthemum tea. You know it’s your Auntie’s favorite.”

I giggled and picked up my cup. Blowing a little, I took a sip and smiled at the sweet taste. “So you were talking about Y/n’s mother?”

“Ah yes. She’s always been a Christian woman, believing in the power above. Then one night she had a dream, a vision she calls it, that Y/n is to be the third wife of the first man Adam. Ever since then she’s been obsessively devoted and is dragging my poor niece with her.”

“I see.”

Luci seemed to become stiff at the mention of Heaven and God. Perhaps it was a touchy subject?

“So God came to her and said this, hm?”

“Sure as shit supposedly.”

The three of us sipped our tea in silence. “So has school been going, my dear?”

“Good, Auntie. We learned how to do cursive in English the other day so now I can write my name all fancy!”

“That’s great, darling. Anything else?”

“I’ve been feeling kind of left out lately.”

Both adults turned to me in curiosity. “How so?”

“Well none of the other kids my age are really learning wifely duties, at least not as much as me. When I want to go outside and play mom forces me to do my skills.”

“Wifely duties? Pray do tell,” Luci cocked an eyebrow.

“I learned how to clean the house from top to bottom, cook all three meals, sew, embroider, and do laundry. Basically anything my mom deems necessary to please this angelic husband of mine.”

“I can assure you it will come in handy. Especially with how much of pigish brute he is.”

“How do you know?”

“I just got that impression when I’ve read his passages in the Bible, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

“If you had a real man I can be sure you wouldn’t need those skills, darling,” Auntie piped up, sipping her tea.

“A real man? Like who?”

“Like Luci for example!”

I turned to the blonde and he smiled. His eyes glinted with what looked like adoration. He gently grabbed my hand and held it, his hands quite warm through his gloves. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s true. If you were my wife you wouldn’t want for nothing. Every day would be spent in marital bliss.”

“Sounds gross!”

He chuckled and kissed my hand again. “When you’re older you’ll come to love it.”

‘If you say so.”

“I know so.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Luci’s tales from his travels while drinking our tea. They were quite intriguing and full of adventure. The people he met, the places he went were all so fascinating. It soon became dinner time and true to her word my mom sat in the driveway. Luci walked me to the door and gave a little bow. “It was a pleasure to chat with you, Y/n. I have a feeling we will see each other more in the future.”

“I hope so. You’re so cool, Luci!”

He smirked and patted my head. “Farewell, little lady.”

“Goodbye, Luci!”

I gave him a quick hug before running to the car.

Sure enough as I grew up I ran into the short blonde more often than not. From trips to the grocery store to when I was allowed at Aunt Hailey’s house, we would bump into each other. We’d always exchange a few words and always those red eyes sparkled bright around me.

That was eleven years ago. Now I lay in a hospital bed, feeling like I was on the brink of death. A few years after meeting Luci I had gotten terribly ill. I was feverish, pale and felt nauseous. My mother was worried and took me to the clinic. I was just diagnosed with the flu. I took my medicine and stayed in bed as best as possible but the final straw was when I fainted in the backyard while gardening. Since then, I had been in and out of hospital with different doctors viewing me like prize cattle. I was poked, prodded and dug at only to be told no one had a clue as to why I was sick. It was like it had just fallen upon me. My mother became even more obsessive in her Christian ways. I was blessed every weekend and prayed upon every day to try and heal my mysterious illness. I was forced to drink holy water at every opportunity and had to wear my cross necklace with two rosaries.

Currently, I was coughing so hard I felt like I dislocated my lungs. My mother sat next to me holding my hand, a rosary wrapping around us. As I continued to cough she pushed some hair out of my face. “You’re going to be alright, honey. Just stay strong.”

After my coughing fit, I laid back and tried to catch my breath. “I feel like I’m dying.”

Her hand tightened around mine and I could feel her body shake with sobs. “Maybe this is God’s way of letting us know Adam needs you. As much as I’d hate to see my baby go, you’d finally fulfill your purpose.”

“Mom, please. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

A knock at the door made us both look over. There in the entryway stood Luci, his white hat with the dark red band hanging tightly in his hands. “Come in.”

He stepped forward and gave a small smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Y/n! Language!”

“Sorry.”

He chuckled and came to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

My mom looked at me and I gave a curt nod. She sighed and stood. “I’ll go get something to eat. I’ll be back later, honey.”

She gave my forehead a kiss and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Luci took her place in the chair next to my bed. “What can I do for you, handsome?”

“I wanted to come see you. Hailey told me how you were faring and I knew I needed to come immediately.”

“I appreciate that. Especially since I feel like this may be the last time you see me.”

“Nonsense. We will always find each other, even in death.”

He brought his hand up and caressed my cheek. I smiled and then began coughing. I turned away and hacked into my arm, only turning back when I was done. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His hand wrapped around mine and squoze tightly. “You know, I could end your suffering right now.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not lying to you, my dear. One small kiss and you’d go peacefully.”

“Luci-”

“And then we can be together forever. Adam, not even Heaven will keep you from me.”

“What are you talking about?” “Just kiss me.”

What could go wrong? I was already suffering so much.

“...Alright.”

He leaned forward and connected our lips. He tasted sweet like caramel apples and I just melted. My soul felt like it was being sucked out of my body and when he pulled away I couldn’t breathe. “You’re mine, little apple. Forever and always.”

He caressed my hand and my eyes closed.

The beeping of the heart monitor slowed and then faded to silence all together.

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marcsburnerphone · 3 months

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And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: nightmares, awko moments, kissing?

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6!!!!! -part 7

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The next morning when John woke up it was as if his life had changed filters, like if he went from dramatic cool to dramatic warm. There was a small pep in his step as he got out of bed. You were usually always asleep before 9AM so he decided he’d go buy the two of you breakfast from this small cafe you like not too far down the road, he knew when he was younger there was nothing like a good breakfast after a night of drinking.

On the other hand when you woke up you thought you’d dreamt it, the kiss couldn’t have been real. You’d never be that bold. But the nervous jitter in your belly at the thought of leaving your room was telling you all you needed to know. Along with the smile that’s been plastered on your face since the sound of your rattling windows from the heavy breeze woke you up.

Thankfully no hangover so therefore life’s great. You did desperately want to shower though after waking up in the same clothes you went out in. Which also meant it was going to have to be laundry day.

When he got back he picked up on the sound of your shower running and the steam that escaped beneath the door. He set the food in the kitchen unpacking what was his and yours, placing it in your usual seats at the table.

After a long shower filled with music and wasted water you dressed into comfortable home clothes, basically pajamas. Gathering the sheets and blankets from your

bed in a bear hug you begin to make your way to the laundry room, when you get there you drop everything on the floor with a huff.

“Doll?” John says from down the hallway as the sound of his footsteps grow closer

“Hey, goodmorning.” Shit shit shit.

“Morning, I got breakfast if you’re hungry.” He notices the way you slightly stiffen and how you don’t look back to greet him.

“Yeah actually, Thankyou.” Back to your shy nature he presumes, except he’s seemingly stepped out of his. There’s nothing John Price loves more than being on the same page as someone and if he’s assured of anything it is that you feel the same way he does.

“Okay, it’s on the table. I’ll eat when you do.” He says, walking away.

You let out a sigh of relief when he left, smiling to yourself at the girlish feelings so alive in you. When you finally made it to the kitchen you saw his silhouette outside. Even in the harsh weather he stood with a beanie and jacket on, lit cigar between his lips.

You give two knocks on the kitchen window catching his attention. When he notices you he snuffs the cigar into the small ashtray you bought for him and heads inside.

“You’re crazy for standing out there.” You say softly as you notice the effort it takes him to slide the door shut.

“I’ve done crazier.” He remarks.

You sit on the table as he does the same. You get that familiar warm feeling in your cheeks when you realize he got your exact order. Maybe it’s from the million times you’ve phone ordered it, regardless it’s sweet.

“So.” You say trying to see if he’ll be the one to bring it up.

“So?” He says with a smirk taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, I kissed you last night.” You have to talk about it, you could never be the one to just let it be.

“Did you?” He smirks.

“I did, and I want to know if that was okay with you or if I misread the room.” He laughs a little wondering if maybe he’s too subtle.

“No misreading was done love, next time I’d just appreciate a proper one.” The blush on your face gives him even more confidence.

“Well for your information I intended on giving you an actual kiss but my coordination had been slightly off.” You laugh as you say it cause although it’s embarrassing it’s very true.

“Well doll, there’ll be more opportunities I’m sure of it.”

“Oh Okay.” Lord save you.

“Besides your rendezvous, I wanted to know if I could have some pals over tomorrow. We have some work to do and I’m not quite keen on going to base.”

“Of course.”

—————

That night you decide to cook dinner, it’s only fair since he bought breakfast. You both agreed on pasta since you have all the ingredients for it. Although you told John you could cook alone he insisted he’d help as it’s the nice thing to do but truthfully he just wanted to be around you.

“So you grew up not too far from here?” He asks as you dice garlic.

“Yeah about an hour away.” You have your hair pulled back and are constantly moving the stray pieces from your face.

“Do you ever visit home?”

“Hah absolutely not, stay as far away from it as possible.” He doesn’t question it further but doesn’t miss the tone in your voice when you speak of it.

“I hear you talk to your sister a lot, are you close?” He loves hearing you talk, loves getting to know you even more.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.” You smile, reminding yourself to call her and update her on these past two days.

“What about you, any siblings?” You ask looking over to him seeing that he’s done chopping the tomatoes and now just leans against the counter.

“No, only child.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. You're very selfless.” It’s nice to hear from you. You’re the only thing he can imagine being selfish about.

“Years of being in the military will do that to you.”

He takes the pasta off the burner and drains it through the strainer. When he puts the empty pot back onto the burner you begin on the sauce.

“Will the same people I met when you first moved in be the ones coming?”

“Yeah.” He says while setting placemats and cutlery on the table.

You’re content in the low hum of radio music that fills in the silence amongst you two. He still stands near you but no words are being said. He watches the way you precisely add different ingredients one by one. When you're done you serve onto the plates for both of you.

“Thank You doll.”

“It was a team effort so thankyou.” You offer him a small smile before you both begin to eat. Conversation flows nicely between bites. He makes you laugh over dumb stories from his time in the military and you tell him embarrassing stories that happened in middle school. He feels normal, like a human when he’s around you. Like his hands are clean of all the violence he’s committed in his life.

When dinner is over you tackle the dishes together, you wash, he dries and puts away till there’s no more.

“Well I’ll see you Tomorrow then.” You say washing your hands and drying them on the kitchen towel.

“Goodnight love.” Before you can get the chance to turn down the hall to your room he’s calling out to you.

“Yeah?” He makes his way towards you and it’s slightly intimidating till he reaches you, positioning a gentle and slightly rough hand on your cheek before placing a long proper kiss to your lips. It’s electric now that you’re fully sober. Warm yet slightly needy. He pulls away and places one more on the corner of your lips like you had his.

“That’s a proper kiss doll.” He jests.

“I can definitely tell the difference.” He laughs a little, swiping a stray hair behind your ear.

“Sleep well.” He adds before heading back down the hall.

—————-

“And we kissed again last night too.” You talk into the phone while kicking your feet under the covers as you still lay in bed awake earlier than usual.

“You didn’t.” She couldn’t be happier for you. You worried her sometimes, she knew you never were outwardly going to look for someone new and since she lived so far away she couldn’t just check up on you when she wanted so she smiles widely as you tell her about your escapades.

“We did, I really like him, you know.” You really really do.

“I’m so happy for you.” She laughs but before you can respond there’s a knock at your door.

“Hold on, come in.” You slightly yell out. John opens the door taking notice of the phone by your ear.

“Sorry doll, I wanted to come tell you that my mates will be here soon, just a heads up.” You smile, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand.

If life loved John as much as he wished he’d be lying next to you by now. Instead he smiles at you with a wink and closes the door.

“That was him, did you hear him?” You laugh.

“If the voice matches the man, my sister you are lucky, not as lucky as him though, don’t forget that.”

You talk for a while longer before letting her get back to her busy life. When you get out of bed you hear deep voices enter your home traveling to where you assume would be John’s office.

You change into a simple outfit, certainly nothing extravagant, but also not pajamas. On your way to the kitchen you turn the heater on so it can warm up before it gets colder outside. You search the fridge wondering what to eat for breakfast and decide on eggs and toast.

—

“Captain, do you have a water bottle I can grab?” Gaz asks, they’re doing a lot of talking and debriefing on their last mission filing the paperwork they’ve all avoided.

“Em yeah in the fridge on the door.” The captain dismisses him trying to type in certain coordinates.

“Grab us one too.” The two other men say as Gaz gets up and leaves. When he makes it to the kitchen he notices you but doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello ma’am.” That’s all he could come up with.

“Jesus good god, hello gaz.” You jump in surprise at the unfamiliar yet not complete stranger.

“Sorry sorry.” You wave him off as he apologizes.

“I think I get startled too easily.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just came to grab water.” He says motioning forward to your fridge.

“Yeah no problem.”

“You have a stunning kitchen by the way, really like the white cabinets.” He compliments.

“Really, when my ex and I got the house I had the old ones which were a grayish color removed and put these ones in, he hated it.” You laugh at the memory.

“A man with no taste. These are lovely and this lighting, it’s really beautiful.” You thank him again and go into mindless conversation about other remodeling projects you had done, he had questions after everything you said and lost track of time.

—

“Gaz, where were you when the explosion happened?” Price questions and looks up after a minute when there’s no response.

“He hasn’t come back yet, captain.” Soap says with a small grin. “I think he’s chatting it up with the lass out there.”

Their captain gets out of his chair. Silently leaving the room to go see what his sergeant is up to. As he approaches the kitchen he hears you laughing and relaxes his tense features before walking into the kitchen.

“So these used to be granite tiles till I changed them to white ones.” You say pointing at the backsplash above the counter.

“You could be an interior designer.” Gaz remarks and you smile.

“Sergeant, where should you be?” John uses the voice of a captain, one you're not very familiar with.

Both of you turn to look at him and you start to defend him.

“Sorry John, I kept him here, that’s my fault.” You say looking at him apologetically. He wants to tell you to stop making those eyes at him because they make him soft, too soft.

“Sergeant back to work.” He says as gaz bids you a smile and mouths Thank You, he quietly passes John to get back to his office.

“Is that your scary man voice?” You ask him with a small smirk.

“It can be a lot scarier.”

“I like it.” He’s weak for you, physically and emotionally this man craves you in ways that are impossible to comprehend.

“Careful.” Is all he says before walking away. He leans against the wall by his office out of view from anyone quickly adjusting his pants like a boy in puberty before getting back to work.

——

By the time they're done it’s nearly midnight. You're laying on the couch watching a movie when you hear the heavy footsteps of the men reach the kitchen and John’s in particular make their way to you.

“You’re still up?” He asks, looming over the back of the couch.

“Can’t sleep.”

“The winds are heavy and it’s a little late. I was wondering if they could stay the night? They’ll sleep in my room. If not doll please don’t be hesitant to let me know.” He asks quietly.

“Yeah that’s fine, where will you sleep?” You smile softly at him and his tired eyes.

“Out here.” You nod letting him know it’s okay before he leaves for a second to tell them. They all Thank You as you get up to grab extra blankets from your closet.

You bring them to John’s rooms seeing them all figuring out where and how they’re going to sleep. You ask John if you could talk to him real quick in the hallway and he quickly excuses himself.

“John, those men are too grown to sleep on the floor and to share a bed.” You quietly exclaim.

“Doll, I can assure you they’ve slept worse.”

“Men, you don’t see the issue. They’re not at work though this is their time to get good sleep.”

“Well I don’t have much more to offer.”

“One of them can sleep in my room, one on the air mattress and one of them can sleep on your bed.” He looks at you slightly confused.

“Where will you sleep?”

“With whoever sleeps in my bed.” He looks at you like you're crazy and is about to very loudly protest. “I'm kidding, we can share the couch I only need like one cushion to sleep on.” It’s true you sleep like a Rollie Pollie.

“Fine.” He doesn’t object to the idea at all which you're slightly surprised about and walks back into his room to tell them. Gaz is the one that gets sent out to you and you take him to your room.

“Here’s the remote, I’m sorry about all the pillows but the sheets are clean and the bathroom is right across the hall.” You smile at him and he thanks you for saving him from the hardwood floors. You laugh and take your favorite pillow, you say your goodnight and head to the living room.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” John says as you walk to the opposite side of the couch.

“I know.” You say settling into your usual spot. John throws one of the blankets you gave to him for the boys over you. At this point you're so tired you lay on your side letting whatever action movie John put on lull you to sleep.

You wake up suddenly sometime during the night the tv now off making it hard to see. You hear John murmuring things in his sleep getting louder by the second. You sit up tapping his arm to wake him and realize how warm he is. You reach to turn on the lamp beside the couch so you could actually see. Sweat begins to form on his brow line as his hands shake at his sides.

“John.” You whisper quietly, shaking his arm. He doesn’t wake so you do it again a little rougher. Still nothing.

“John.” You said a bit louder, finally waking him. His wide eyes look around as his left hand reaches to grip the hand you had on his arm.

“Doll?” He says squinting his eyes at you while trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah I’m here.” He continues to breathe roughly as you sit there. The way he refuses to meet your eyes makes you want to cry. He looks distressed and worn down.

“Bad dream.” He whispers gruffly.

You don’t need words to comfort him. You slide down the couch to lay opposite of how you had been before and place your head on his chest. He lifts his arm from beneath you and drapes it over your mid back. You listen intently to the rapid beat of his heart waiting for it to slow. After a while it does as his breath evens out. After a bit you drift back into sleep.

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thankyou for reading <3

comments and reposts are always appreciated.

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys

#captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #angst #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2

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ajortga · 4 months

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she's different

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

based off request! it was late here, but wanted to post this for you, trying to work on another request and once that's done i'll take other ones, requests are currently closed, but check my masterlist and i'll open it soon once i finish! i found this so so funny, i hope this met your thoughts.

jenna ortega x fem!r request pls

where aliyah asks jenna for food/ to buy her food in the middle of the night cus shes hungry and jenna says no. But when r asks jenna for food in the middle of the night jenna immediately orders r food leaving aliyah bewildered

Jenna had her headphones on, it was almost 1AM in her household, but Jenna had insomnia at a young age, so it was normal for her.

She was reading a book while everyone was asleep since she was visiting, you had gotten it for her and the first two pages in, she was infested.

Half-way done meant that her nose was sticking through it almost every second they saw her.

They’d call her name? No response, they would have to physically fight the book out of her hand till she noticed.

She was frantically reading, retaining every piece of info from the book as it got closer to the answer of the plot twist.

Honestly, her whole family found it amusing when Jenna found a book that she enjoyed. She would seriously skip lunch and stay up till sunrise to finish the book.

The pages flipped and flopped, it was a bit hectic, at this point her page flipping was a portable fan.

Then, someone opened the door, making a small squeak from the opening, pulling the bed sheets off of Jenna.

Her sister Aliyah closed the door, sitting down on her bed, “Thank lord you're awake. Finally that book came to some good use.”

Jenna almost groaned as Aliyah snatched the book from her, pulling the blanket back on top of her. “Aliyah! Oh my god I was so close to figuring out who-”

“Tell me later, right now, I’m having the strongest feeling in my entire life, I never ever felt this way before. It’s like-”

Jenna took a nearby pillow and threw it on Aliyah’s head, “Oh my god! Just tell me and let’s get this over with! You just took my book right before the best part! Give me that back!”

“I need you to get me food. I’m witnessing the most atrocious food craving.. Hear me out, french fries. Not just any french fries, they have to be curly, with that animal style sauce. It’s simple.” Aliyah points to the smaller brunette, “You’re awake,” then points to herself, “And I’m broke, what does that make? Annual midnight cravings. Come on! Please!”

Jenna was annoyed, did her sister just take her most precious treasure, for fries? Hell no. Maybe in the morning, but she would not be driving out in the dark for some fries.

“Give me my book!” She hissed, trying to grab the book from Aliyah’s stretching hand.

“Then GET me my fries!”

“It’s 1AM! I’m not getting you any fries, ask like.. Markus to give it to you in the afternoon.”

“If I wanted it in the afternoon I would’ve! But I’m hungry! I won’t give you your book if you won’t get me my fries!”

At this point the two were rolling on the bed.

“Jenna, remember I gave you 10 dollars to buy food! This is you paying me back!”

“You never gave me 10 dollars for food! What are you talking about?” Jenna said as sharply, but quietly as she could.

“You bought 2 packs of kiwi candy, raspberries, and the worst ramen brand you could have chosen!”

“That was what the fuck? That was 3 years ago! And I didn't know that they were full on gluten free!”

The bed was shaking as Jenna tried getting the book out of Aliyah’s hand, it was so loud but so quiet at the same time.

A small squeak was heard, your eyes peeking through the door.

You came in, rubbing your eyes, making your girlfriend and her sister freeze and stare at you.

You looked at them for a moment, opening your eyes in confusion, “What?” You mumbled, not aware of what was going on.

Jenna stopped attacking Aliyah immediately as she walked over to you, cupping your tired pink cheeks, “Baby, it’s 1:24AM in the morning? Why are you awake?” Jenna whispered softly.

You were tired, Jenna’s focus was on you, and you can make out Aliyah’s figure searching their shared room for Jenna’s wallet around the room, searching in drawers, murmuring how goo goo ga ga Jenna was over you as soon as she sees you.

You yawned, leaning into her embrace, “I woke up and I didn’t feel you next to me, then I heard your voice and the wall practically fluttering. Also I woke up with a really nice craving, curly fries with animal style sauce, oh and some nice peach tea from that one super market we always go to! Oh, oh! Also those watermelon sour patch kids!”

Your voice was so silly and drowsy when you were half awake.

Aliyah snapped her head towards you, “Curly fries?”

Before anything could even move, Jenna was gone and came back 5 seconds later with everything you wanted. She shushed you and sat you down on her bed as she brought you everything you wanted, kissing your forehead as you rubbed your eyes.

Aliyah’s mouth was hung open as she stared at her sister, “Oh. I see how it is, so your girlfriend gets any food she wants at any time. But your amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, sweet sister can’t get her fries? I’m hungry!”

Jenna wasn’t listening, feeding you fries as she patted your hair and stroked it, treating you like a princess.

“I still have your book!”

“You can keep that for now,” she murmured, turning to you as she coaxed you with kisses on your head, “You can eat and tell me if you need anything more.”

“This isn’t fair!” Aliyah cried.

Of course, you gave Aliyah basically all the fries after eating like, 9 because we love her and she is so patootie. She was crunching them as she watched Jenna cuddle you to sleep, rolling her eyes and munching on them.

"You're lucky you had curly fries." Aliyah scoffed playfully, snapping a photo of you two and turning off the lights as she left the room, the small munches of her fries being heard.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x y/n

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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 15

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, emotional stuff and vulnerability, fluff, angst, inaccurate navy stuff, typos for sure (fr didn't proofread tonight)

Words: 3537

The One I Want Masterlist

---

“He really didn’t call last night?” Millie finally asks. She’s been watching you out of the corner of her eye for the better half of an hour, sitting in a plastic chair on the opposite side of the gift shop’s counter as she unconvincingly flips through the pages of a bridal magazine.

The stack Millie brought to your work was an attempt to distract you so you would have something to think about other than Jake, but you’ve done nothing other than stare at the same wedding dress on the same page since Millie arrived. You can’t even say it’s a nice dress that would compliment your friend’s figure, so you’re about as useless as they come for a Maid of Honor. Dresses, flowers, bachelorette parties—it all sits nestled in the back of your mind, and you’d feel horrible for not taking the details of the wedding more seriously, but right now you’re not alone in using it as a distraction from missing the men in your lives.

At least Millie has received some reassurance. Rooster has taken every opportunity to call her, to comfort her, to express his love. But Jake? Nothing. The most you’ve gotten is a “He’s fine, just a bit drawn into himself lately. Got a lot on his mind,” from Millie who reported that information secondhand from her fiance.

That Jake has put you in a place of questioning is a blow to your heart, but in an effort to stay sane, you haven’t allowed yourself to create potential explanations for him in your head. He’ll reach out eventually, and when he does, you trust he’ll give you all the answers you need.

But for now, you shake your head.

“What is wrong with that boy?” Millie huffs, leaning back in her chair. “I was hopin’ he’d make up for his lack of calls with a beautiful handwritten letter confessin’ his love, but good lord.”

“He already told me he loves me.”

The magazine drops onto her lap. Her jaw practically unhinges. “How are you just tellin’ me this now?” she asks. “What did you say?”

Running your fingers through your hair, you close your magazine and shove it aside. “He didn’t let me say anything,” you tell her, relief washing over you at finally letting it out. “It was over the phone as they were leaving, and he hung up before I could get two words in.”

Millie sighs. “Oh, Honey.” She sits up and scoots the chair as close to the counter as possible so she can easier wrap your hand in hers.

“You know–” she begins, but then pauses as she rethinks, “Or, well, maybe you don’t know—but you should know Jake doesn’t throw that word around lightly. I haven’t known him as long as the others, but I do know that you were a total game-changer. He told all of us that from the moment he saw you he was a goner.”

Heat floods your cheeks at hearing the words he once told you. You’ve believed him to be genuine for a long time, but it’s incredibly fulfilling to know he felt strongly enough to tell his friends before you were willing to consider your own feelings for him.

Being honest with yourself, you weren’t in the same place the first time you saw Jake. You thought he was beautiful and magnetic, and being that beautiful and magnetic, you were convinced he was going to be just as troublesome. There was no room in your mind to consider yourself a goner. Your shields were unbreakable. But now, when you replay the last few months of your life—replay the first time you really took him in, the first time his fingers touched yours—you can acknowledge that in choosing to stay here, the feelings you’ve developed for him were inevitable. Goner for goner—it just took you a moment to catch up.

Millie grins at the red tinge you can’t conceal. “He’s been Mr. Game Changer himself, hmm?”

Shooting her a look before playfully rolling your eyes, you say, “Don’t tease me about things you already know, Millie.”

“The next time he calls, do you want me to tell Bradley to knock some sense back into that pretty, blond head?”

You chuckle. “No, it’s ok,” you say. “Jake was patient with me. It’s my turn to be patient with him. He’ll come through.”

“I’m sure it'll be soon. For you, he’d–” Millie’s eyes flick just past your head. “Oh, fuck no,” she mutters as the store’s door swings open and closes from behind you. “We don’t accept trash here. Please take yourself out,” Millie sasses, making you turn in your chair.

Brit doesn’t acknowledge the tiny redhead. Her dark eyes are darts, so focused on you she hardly blinks. For some reason, though, you don’t sense the animosity you did the last time she brought herself around.

“It’s been a while,” she says to you.

Millie scoffs. “Not long enough.”

As much as you want to, you don’t feed into your friend’s comments. Defending you is appreciated, but you have a feeling that poking at the blonde will delay her departure, and Brit doesn’t need to be in your life and space any longer than you desire to be in hers.

“What can I do for you?” you ask.

“I came here to say something.”

“We don’t have a good track record there.”

With arms crossed, Brit rolls her eyes. “Right, well…I was pissed.”

Millie mimics Brit’s behavior; arm-crossing, eye-rolling, and attitude included. “Award-winnin’ excuse, honey.”

“Can't you scram?”

“Can and will are two different things.”

Your eyes move to Millie. The fire within her is too powerful to die out against the challenge before her, and you’re positive the two could go on for hours if you let them, neither willing to back down. But you want Brit to get on with it. Surely she knows after her last failure that she’s unable to affect you or Jake and the plans you have with one another, all of which do not include her. So what else is there for her to bother you with?

“Millie, it’s ok,” you say, snapping the tense band of their stare-off.

Her face softens when she looks at you. Words don’t have to be exchanged for her to understand what you’re asking of her. She stands and walks to Brit with a pointed finger. “I’m gonna be watchin’ you through the window like a stalker the entire time.”

After stepping outside, she immediately turns to face the window, just as promised.

You stand as well and brace yourself against the wall, keeping the barrier of the counter between you. “I’d love to get this over with, so what do you want to say?”

Brit takes her time, running her fingernail over the packets of gum in their display before she decides to take a seat in the vacant chair. With her legs crossed, her hands clasp in her lap. “I don’t know if you are aware, but Jake dropped by for a nice little visit a couple of days before he left,” she shares with you. Then she sighs as if bored. “He said some things. A lot of things. Bared his soul and all that shit. It was rather dramatic.”

While shocked, you suppose you don’t need a million guesses to figure out why he would go to her before leaving you. He expressed his concerns weeks ago, and no matter how fiercely you tried to reassure him, you couldn’t snuff it out completely. You could always see it in his eyes—a dimmed but persistent flickering of worry.

Brit yanks you from your thoughts. “You’re not ever going to let him go, are you,” she says.

“No.”

“Yea…” She runs her tongue over her teeth, making that squelching sound you had hoped to never hear again. “He’s not going to let you go, either. He made that clear.”

You get that feeling again—that deep fulfillment from being with Jake. You could’ve lived your whole life and the adventures that come with it—from marriage to children to grandchildren, if that is what you and Jake choose—completely unaware of him working behind the scenes to protect and defend and love you.

It seems silly to not have realized before, but you’re so new to this kind of love that inexperience has you approaching it in a fairly straightforward manner. You don’t hide your emotions or actions from Jake anymore. You’re sad, you cry, he comforts you. You’re mad, you yell, he calms you. You’re happy, you smile, and he smiles right with you. And you’ve done the same for him. Open and honest and, as you once agreed, hearts bare.

You would do anything for Jake, and he for you, but you never considered that his affection extended past what you see. Not because it shouldn’t; that’s what love is, you know that. But the love of your past was hollow, very out of sight out of mind on their end; a disconnection that those men used to boost their egos by making fun of you to their friends or flirting with other women when you weren’t around.

Unless taught differently, a person only knows what they've known. So the idea of Jake going above and beyond in that way simply never crossed your mind.

“At first, I hated him for it,” Brit says, suspiciously even-toned. “Showing up at my door, desperately trying to appeal to god knows what while he repeatedly reminds me that he won’t be with me because he’s in love with you. I mean, can you believe the fucking audacity of a man to do that to a woman?”

You can, because you know hurt and embarrassment inside and out, and up and down. Without the context of their situation—were it any other man spouting off to any other woman—you could find it in yourself to feel sympathy as easily as you find your next breath. But Brit deserves the treatment she’s describing; not for the sake of cruelly getting even after the harassment she doled out, but because she needs to hear the truth of the matter from Jake’s lips. She’s in the wrong, what she has done is unacceptable, and perhaps most importantly: you are not the reason Jake doesn’t want to be with her. Whether she eventually accepts that truth or not is another thing entirely.

“I’ve spent these weeks hating him more than I thought possible,” she says.

You shake your head. “Brit, I don’t understand where this is going, and to be honest, I’m–”

“You once asked me if I was tired,” she interrupts you, her tone raising to overlap yours. It succeeds in silencing you. “Well, I’m tired.”

If you could find your voice, you don’t know what you would do with it. When she cornered you in the Hard Deck’s bathroom with a plethora of insults and threats, you shot back at her with few words and a final question. But considering her lack of self-reflection, it wasn’t a question you imagined she might one day reassess.

Brit rises and straightens out her top. She gives you one final look. “So, now you know.”

Then she exits the store and disappears around the other side of the building where the sidewalk meets the street.

“What the actual fuck was that about?” Millie asks, returning to your side.

You’re still staring at the spot where she vanished. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” you start, then swallow, “But I think she’s done with us.”

—

You love all of the things that still smell like Jake. The sheets, the pillow, the interior of his truck, the kitchen because that’s the first place he’d go after putting cologne on in the morning. He lingers everywhere, and when you close your eyes, you can trick yourself into believing he’s right beside you. But after a while of sitting around the scent with your eyes closed, the illusion dissipates. If Jake was actually near you, only so much time would pass before he’d begin touching and kissing and whispering sweet things in your ear.

“You know I can’t help myself,” he’d say. And without him here, you can’t convince the scene to play out.

It’s like a bad dream that doesn’t lose its power over you even after you wake. It’s still in your brain, in the race of your heart, in the heavy gasps from your lungs. Dreams you often have that, even when sweet and beautiful, aren’t. If they’re not full of horrible images that leave you shaking in bed, they’re reminders of good times with Jake, and it’s the good times that ache the most when they’re over.

Tonight, though, it’s not the dreams that shoot you awake. It’s the ring of your phone from an unknown number.

When Jake first left, every unknown number that popped up on your screen jolted an electric shock through your body. But after so many telemarketers and automated calls from the apartment building updating you on temporary changes to office hours, you stopped expecting anything else.

Grabbing your phone, you slam the tip of your finger onto the little green circle and lift it to your ear. “Seriously, calling in the middle of the night is so messed up! I told you to take me off your list!”

“What list?”

Your eyes widen, and every scrap of half-asleep grumpiness falls away at the sound of his voice. “J-Jake?”

“Hey, beautiful…”

He sounds as tired as you are, but you can practically feel the smile on his face. You’re sure it’s a weak smile, all he can muster due to the exhaustion, but it’s there and it’s for you.

Your vision blurs and you blink and fat droplets soak into his comforter. You rub your thumb over the damp circles. “I should slap you,” you say, your nose already becoming stuffy from your tears.

“Oh, you should do much worse than that,” he replies. You lightly chuckle, so he lightly chuckles, then silence holds until he sighs. “I’m so sorry. I miss you so damn much.”

“So much you didn’t want to call before now? It's been a long time, Jake.”

“I did want to call,” he tells you. “And I could have—I should have—but I just…I freaked out a bit.”

“Why?”

Jake sighs again, and he must’ve pulled the phone away from his face because there’s a muttering so faint you can barely hear it. But then loudly and clearly, he says, “Because I fucked up, beautiful, and I’m embarrassed. You deserved better.”

Your mouth goes dry.

Fucked up. Fucked. Up.

Before you can stop yourself, you catch a glimpse of what the next few moments could turn your life into.

Fucked up. Slept with someone. Sorry. Thought I loved you. Not your fault. You can stay at the apartment until I get back.

Pain, and heartbreak, and tears fatter than the ones you’re currently shedding. Lost trust that will never be found for anyone else. No more confidence. No more self-love. No more vulnerability.

Twelfth new place.

But then he says, “That’s not how I should have told you I love you.”

One sentence. A snap of the fingers and every invading thought is shoved out of your head. You breathe. Shake your head. Swipe your fingers across your cheek to wipe away the first tear brought on by what you thought was about to break your heart.

“It’s not how I wanted to do it,” he continues. “I was going to tell you so many times in the week before I left, but I didn’t know how you were going to react. Then I thought I’d say it at the dock, but Rooster was next to me and Millie was next to you, and no way in hell was I going to have them there the first time I said that to you.

“Before I knew it, we were on the ship and it hit me that I ran out of chances. But I couldn’t go without you knowing, so I didn’t think, I just did it,” he says. “I didn’t realize how fucking lame it was until the next day. I mean, Rooster told Millie on a damn ferris wheel, and Bob…” There's a pause. “Actually, I shouldn't tell you what Bob did for his girl; it shames us all.”

Finally, he takes a breath. “Anyway, after we were gone, whenever I wanted to call you I froze up because I had no idea what you would say and how you would feel. The thought of you being disappointed with me or with something I did–”

“Jake–”

“Especially something like this—it makes me–”

“Jake, I don't care that you told me over the phone,” you manage to slip in between his words.

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, of course not,” you snicker, running the back of your hand under your nose to clear away any snot. “What I care about is that you didn't let me respond,” you tell him. “I care that the only way I've known you're safe has been through Millie.”

This time, Jake’s sigh sounds different; one more of relief than anything. Minutes of talking has anxiety lifting off of both of your shoulders by the pounds. Jake is okay, Jake is safe, Jake still loves you. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re not so disappointed in him that you didn’t hang up the second you heard his voice.

“Beautiful, if I could kick myself I would.”

“I’m sure you could ask one of the others to do it.”

“Anyone in particular you’d prefer to do the honors?”

You hum. “Javy never skips leg day. I’m sure he’s got a strong swing.”

Jake laughs loud enough for you to jerk your ear away from the speaker. “I’ll surprise him with the good news in the morning,” he says.

There’s a handful of things you could say in response. Cute things. Witty things. Sassy things, like requesting pictures of said kick in the ass as proof. But you don’t say those things. While you’d love to continue on the lighter path of conversation, you have more questions.

“Why didn’t you let me respond?” you ask.

It’s amazing that you can’t see him yet you can feel his shift in attitude. As if in slow motion, you picture each phase of the bright smile disintegrating off his face.

Jake clears his throat. “You want the selfish or the less selfish reason first?”

“In that order is fine.”

“Ok. Selfishly, I didn’t want to hear you say you don’t love me,” he says. “But that wasn’t my first thought. My first thought was that I just needed you to know. I didn’t care if you loved me too, I cared that you knew you were loved.

“It was after it was out of my mouth that I realized you might feel pressured to give me a response, which I also didn’t want for you. Then the selfish part came into play because what if you responded with anything other than that you love me too? Would it have made me stop loving you? No. But it would’ve hurt…badly.”

“You honestly think that I don’t?”

“I don’t know, beautiful.”

You can see his weak smile again, and you can picture how this conversation would go if he were in front of you rather than a thousand miles away. With that smile, he’d hold your hand and brush your hair behind your ear. He’d smooth your tears back into your cheeks with his thumb because he’d hate that they’re there before he pulls you into him to kiss you.

“You’ve been through so much,” he says. “I don’t expect you to be in love with me, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn't hurt to hear you confirm it.”

You cry a little harder for the tears that shouldn’t be shedding; for the uncertainty he’s been feeling; for the questions you’ve been asking yourself over the last couple of months. All unnecessary. All of which could’ve been solved had he given you a chance to respond or called you at his first opportunity.

You empathize with why he didn’t. Jake may be a man who doesn’t throw the ‘love’ word around often, but you’re a woman who has refused to throw it out at all. You protect yourself that way. You maintain some semblance of power by never speaking it aloud to someone who would not reciprocate. You understand what it means to tell someone you love them when you’ve lost those you love, and you’ve refused to do it for that purpose. It’s a risk of facing more loss.

But it’s a risk Jake took that would have instantly proved worth it. You only wish he could have known that at the time.

“Jake, I–”

“Please don’t,” he stops you. “I don’t want you to say anything until I get back. Either way, I mean. If you feel how I do, or, you know…if you don’t. I’d rather not know until I’m with you again.”

“You would rather wait months to know how I feel?”

“Well, that’s the thing, beautiful,” he says. “We might be coming home sooner than expected.”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @alwaysclassyeagle

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun hangman #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

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astoldbylanii · 4 months

Text

Ignorance

dealers!shuriri x black!reader

warnings: smut, cursing, reader has a kid

-------------- "Is everyone clear on instructions?" Your professor asked from the front of the classroom. There were whispers among the class but ultimately everyone answered yes. Prof. Diggs nodded, giving permission to start the project before he took a seat at his desk. He was your art teacher, as calm and chill as they come. He was one of your favorites considering he wasn't always jumping down his students throats.

As you finally started to get into the flow of your sketch, his phone rang. He picked it up, muttering a few words before he stood from his desk, clearing his throat.

"I have to run down to the front office real quick. Best behavior please, lord knows I don't need miss Mulligan asking about my teaching capabilities. Again." He said, throwing on his suits jacket and tightening his tie. "Until I come back, ask your neighbor for help and if they can't I'll answer your questions when I get back." He instructed, saluting goodbye before he left the room.

Immediately, the room was filled with chatter. You sighed, throwing down your pencil, your thought process now thrown off.

"What's wrong?" Your friend, Eden asked from beside you. She was already well along with her drawing. It looked like it was going to be of her late brother.

"This finna be hard as hell. You know I don't mess with that hyperrealism shit." You said, rolling your eyes as you picked up your pencil, twirling it around your fingers.

"Well, just draw someone but like, abstract. We're in the second semester, by now Diggs knows your style." She suggested, starting to blend her own piece at some points. You shook your head at her idea.

"Nah, he specifically said he wants it to look like he can touch the person. I don't know, I think I might just settle for a nice D at this point." You shrugged, staring at the circle on your page. You took the paper off, crumbling it in your hands and replaced it with a fresh one. After that you didn't pay any more attention to it, pulling out your own sketchbook instead.

"Shii, I could settle for some good D too." Eden joked, smacking your hand down when you playfully shoved her, laughing too. "I'm not kidding!" She said, glaring at you with an offended look when you continued laughing. She rolled her eyes, going back to her drawing as you went back to your sketch.

Some minutes passed by and you two sat there in silence, surrounded by chatter. You were looking for inspiration in your old works while she was focusing on her new one. You were confused when out the corner of your eye you saw her put down her pencil too. Thinking she might've been done already, you looked over to see it unfinished. But maybe that was the look she was going for. You went to ask about it when she spoke up first.

"Girl, who is that fine ass specimen walking towards us." She asked, gawking over whoever it was. You were sure they couldn't have been that good looking that she had to stop drawing, but you stood corrected when your gaze met Riri's. She had been surveying the room for you, and once the two of you made eye contact she started making her way up the stairs to you. "Wait why she coming up here? And why y'all staring at each other like y'all know each other? Wait, bitch, you know her?"

"Shhh!" You hushed, staring at Riri in shock as start to get closer to where you were seated. Why in the hell why she in your class? Much less in your building? You quickly fixed your shocked face when she stood in front of you, her hands in the pockets of her plain grey nike sweatsuit as she stared down at you. "The fuck is you doing here?" You whispered, looking around for any watching eyes.

"Since when you think it's ok to curse at me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. You stayed silent, leaning back in your seat as you mugged her instead of apologizing. She chuckled down at you, obviously a little surprised at your attitude but she didn't mind it, knowing it'd be fixed in no time. "You haven't been answering our texts, mama."

"Yeah, I know." You said, rolling your eyes and going back to your sketchbook. Duh, why tf she staring the obvious like you don't know what you've been doing. You knew exactly what you were doing. Being petty. But ain't no way you was gon watch them sit there and talk to that girl and not react. This was you reacting, and they caused it so they can fix it.

Now you were starting to tick her off. You could tell you were. The way she rolled her tongue against her cheek as she looked down at you. The way her hand clenched up inside of her pocket. The way she softly scoffed under breath when your attention went back to your book. You could tell. It was because you knew how to piss her off. No eye contact, attitude, basically just being disrespectful. She was big on respect.

A hand came between you and your book and before you could stop it, it was snatched from your grasp. Your gaze snapped to her as you stood, trying to reach over the desk to grab the book but to no avail. She kept it out of your reach, using her free hand to grab your own, keeping you in place just from that grip. She leaned her head over your shoulder so her mouth was right by your ear.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're lucky your in class right now. When this class is over you're coming to The Palace. By then I want what ever you got going on fixed." She leaned away from your ear so you were face to face, looking you in the eye. "Or, I will fix it for you. Ok?" She warned, waiting for an answer. You nodded, though you changed to a verbal yes quick after you saw the look on her face. She smirked, pecking your lips before she pulled away. She caught sight of Eden, who's jaw had dropped at the affectionate action. Riri waved, knowing who she was to you before she took her exit, taking the sketchbook with her.

You assumed she took that for assurance that you'd actually show up at The Palace. She knew you rarely went anywhere without it.

Finally relaxing again with her gone, you slumped in your chair. You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you thought about how the rest of your day was going to go. If God was on your side today, you'd still be able to crawl come tomorrow. But it was Friday. Meaning you didn't have class for the next couple of days meaning both Riri and Shuri were less likely to take pity on you. Damn you fucked up. Why couldn't Riri have came on a Teusday?

"Bitch, you know Riri? Wait never mind, you fuck Riri? I couldn't tell that was her at first but you're with Riri? Wait a minute don't she got a girlfriend? And you bottom too? I knew you was just shit talking all them times you-"

"Eden!" You interrupted her, not enjoying the rant that was soon to come. "Yes, I'm with Riri. Yes she has a girlfriend, I'm with her too. Also no one needs to know about the whole bottom shit, you know? We can just...keep it to ourselves." You admitted, looking around the room for anyone that might've been watching the whole interaction. Why did she have to pull that in front everyone? She could've pulled you outside, texted you. You know what, maybe she did text, you had been ignoring her to be fair.

"We gon circle back to the bottom thing but girl you're with two fuckin drug dealers?!" Eden whisper-shouted but still you shushed her, not exactly fond of the idea of them getting caught. "I am shushing! How did you even manage to- wait how the fuck did she get in here?" She asked, looking around like she felt unsafe now.

"Girl first of all calm down. Acting like someone coming to kidnap your ass. They don't do that type of shit anyway. And that front office call was more than likely her so she could make her way up here. I also heard there was a tour or something today? She proli pretended to be apart of it." You answered, still stressed about what you were going to do after this class. You hoped it felt as long as English usually did, the longer you have to form a plan the better.

"Don't she go to MIT? The hell is she doing on Harvard campus?" Eden asked, but more to herself. For the first time since Riri left, she turned to look at you, seeing the nervous look on your face. "Girl why you shaking in your boots for? You bout to get your doonies beat down goodt. By two people! I'd be clacking my heels."

"I'm not even sure that's what's gon happen for real. That's what's making me nervous." You replied, taking your nail into your mouth to bite. Your best friend shrugged, going back to her painting.

"Well either way if you're not here next week I'll tell your teachers you had some sort of accident. Maybe one about your legs not working." She said, giggling to herself. You looked at her with a fake annoyed face, holding in the smile that threatened to show itself.

"You think you funny, huh?" ---------------- Finally, your last class was over. Usually you'd be happy but unfortunately it did not go by as slow as you had hoped. You had no plan. You'd have to go to The Palace.

"I still can't believe you ain't tell me." Eden said, packing up her bag. You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, hearing her sniff like she was crying. You swung your own bag over your shoulder, waiting for her to be finished.

"Girl please. Like you be telling me every person that be dicking you down every two to five business days." You scoffed. Eden paused her actions, lifting her eyes to stare at me.

"You ain't een had to do that." She shook her head, finally fitting that fat ass computer into that small ass bag. She threw her bag on and we started to head to the door. As soon as we turned into the hallway we were face to face with Riri. She had been posted up on the wall checking her watch. Eden looked between the two of us, quickly dismissing herself while wishing me good luck.

Ri watched her leave before turning back to me, pushing herself off the wall. She was in the same outfit from before, except now her gold chain was untucked, and you could see what shoes she was wearing. They were just some dunks, ones Shuri bought all three of y'all so we could be matching. Coincidently, you happened to be wearing yours too. Riri leaned in closer to me, You thought she was going to greet you with a kiss. At the last minute, she swerved her head, reaching out and pulling my book bag from off your shoulder.

Yeah. Deserved that one.

She pulled your bag over her own shoulder, reaching her hand out to grab yours and smiling when you took it.

"I see ya attitude fixed." She said, using my hand to pull me so I was walking in front of her, then dropping it. "For now anyways."

"How you even here? I'm sure you got classes or something." You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself when you made it outside. It had gotten colder since morning. You'd forgotten to check the weather again and were wearing a short sleeve shirt. It was a little big too, which made it easier for the win to blow through.

"I got my ways. You of all people should know that by now." She answered shortly, giving you just enough for it to pass as an answer. You felt a soft fabric touch your shoulders and looked behind you to see Riri now in a grey shirt, continuing to make sure her hoodie was covering your shoulders.

"Thank you." You smiled, sticking your arms through the sleeves of the sweater. You zipped up the hoodie, leaning into the girl as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, now next to you. She leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"'Course, ma." She muttered, using her free hand to take her phone out. You sunk into her some more. As petty as you had been, you'd miss her. You'd miss them. Of course you did, but you still weren't happy about the girl. You knew, however, there was no competition. Riri and Shuri would never do that to you. It was just the mere fact that they had entertained her. That's the part that bothered you.

You went to turn into the parking lot, only to be pulled in another direction by Riri. You looked up at her confused, but followed her nonetheless. She led you to some field on campus where a group of white guys were hanging. Some throwing a football, others just sitting and talking. She went up to one of the ones that were sitting, snatching the phone out of his hand. Your eyes widened, stepping behind her a little as she dropped her arm from around you, using both hands to type on his phone.

"Yo! What the fuck?" He yelled, standing up so his height difference was apparent. Riri was unfazed, continuing to type something on his phone. You looked over her shoulder, only to see her stuck on his cashapp, he was signed out. Obviously she didn't know the boy's password.

"You owe me." She told him, muttering something else under her breath as she turned the phone to him. "5k."

"5- what?!" He gritted his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one heard what they were talking about.

"I supplied your entire party white boy. That's how much you and your frat bros snorted. Pay up." Riri demanded. One thing you were quick to learn about her, there were three things she didn't play about. One of those being her money. She was gonna get it one way or another and when the boy didn't move you had learned that today it was going to be another.

You could see Riri getting even more irritated than she already was about the payment being late in the first place. You saw her survey the place one last time before lifting her shirt just little, flashing something. You couldn't see it from behind her but the look on the boy's face told you what it was.

"Ok, damn." The boy agreed, snatching the phone. Riri dropped the end of her shirt, watching as he typed in the information. Soon he turned around the screen to face the two of you, showing that it was sent.

"Good, next time you do a deal with me again, have your money with you. I'm not doing no more after pay with you." She said, not waiting for a reply before she grabbed your hand again and started walking away.

She led you to a familiar foreign and flashy car, opening the door for you to get in and crawling in after you. You could see Okoye, their right hand women, in the driver's seat through the divider of the front and back of the car. You waved shyly and she smiled at you through the rear view mirror.

"I thought you wanted me to meet you at the club, not pick me up." You expressed with slight confusion in your voice. Riri finished typing some things on her phone, sliding it back into her pocket to give you her undivided attention.

"So now you wanna listen?" She questioned, doing the same tilt with her head that she always did when she was mad. So she was definitely still mad. Okoye voided her eyes of the situation after hearing Riri's words, sliding the divider closed. You looked down at your hands, picking at the fresh polish on your nails. Only looking up when you heard Riri snickering. "Clearly I had some business to handle, figured I'd might as well pick you up too. That way I knew you couldn't avoid us. Not that you could even if I didn't."

You rolled your eyes at her cocky behavior, pulling out your own phone from your pocket. You typed in some things, noticing Riri looking at your screen from her position. Dialing your sister's number, you put it up to your ear waiting for her to pick up. "Hey Bianca!" You greeted once it finally did.

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend? I'm gonna be running a little late tomorrow night, but I don't want you to be staying up late if you do have something to do." You questioned, feeling slightly guilty to be asking this of her.

"No no, it's fine! He can stay longer, it's no problem." Kylie answered, you could practically hear the smile in her voice. Man she must love kids. Asante had been staying there for a week now. Bianca had practically begged for him to come over and spend some time with his cousins, of course you said yes. She didn't live far from you so it wasn't like he couldn't attend school, and you could seen him whenever you liked. He'd been staying there since Wednesday now.

"Ok, thank you so much! I'll send you guys more money for some food and stuff. Could you please put Asante on the phone?" You asked, deciding against ending this call just to call the 6 year old's iPad. The babysitter agreed, and soon you heard your son's voice.

"Hi mommy!" His preppy voice blared through the phone, making you slightly pull the phone away from your ear in surprise.

"Hey baby." You giggled out, putting the phone against your ear. "Mommy's gonna be a little late coming home tomorrow. Do you think you'll be ok? Bianca's gonna stay with you a little longer."

"Yes! I love Aunty Bey, she bought me a new toy car! Does this mean we can have pizza for dinner?"

"Yes, you can have pizza for dinner." You agreed, laughing at his celebrations over the phone. "Okay, when I take you home you can tell me all about school today. Call me if anything happens, okay? I love you."

"You can tell me about yours too! Love you mommy, bye bye."

"Bye, 'Sante." You sighed, hanging up the phone. You put your phone away, looking at Riri after feeling her eyes on you the whole time. "What?"

"Asante could always come to the house, if you want." She offered, not trying to pressure you. You shook your head, laughing at the suggestion.

"No, thank you. The boy hasn't even met you yet, love." You denied, rubbing your hand over her knee. Riri shrugged, throwing her arm to rest on the back of the seats.

"Who's fault is that?" She taunted, watching as you turned your head away from her. She used her hand to turn your head back to her, wanting you to see that she was serious. "Me and Shuri plan on making you a wife. We aren't going anywhere, y/n. We care about you, which means we care about Asante. But, he's your son, we're not going to pressure you into meeting him. Just know that we want to." She assured. You smiled, pulling her in for a hug which she graciously accepted, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest.

"Thank you."

It's not that you didn't want them to meet Asante, your feelings were growing stronger by the day. You didn't stop they'd ever stop growing, really. You were just worried. You didn't want your son hurt. Emotionally, you didn't want him to get attach only for them to not come home one day, a job gone wrong. Physically, they protected you already, and you knew they would protect him even more. But still, there was always room for human error, and you didn't know if that was a chance you were willing to take.

You loved them, but you would always love your son more. Who would you be to purposely put him in harms way for your own gain and comfort? Sacrifice was something you were used to when it came to Asante. But isn't that what mothers do? Then again, maybe there was supposed to be a certain balance. One that you didn't have. --------------- The Palace. It was their club, also their headquarters. It was protected and secured by all women bodyguards, Okoye being one of them. It was also where you met them for the first time, but that's neither here nor there.

You, Okoye, and Riri made your way through the entrance, the metal detector going off as you walked through, but no one said anything. Once you were inside, Riri pressed a small kiss to your head, making you turn to look at her questioningly.

"Go find Shuri, baby. I got something to handle real quick but I'll meet with y'all as soon as I'm done." She stated, signaling Okoye to follow her. You pressed a short kiss to her lips, wishing her luck with whatever she had to do. Then, both her and Okoye left your side.

You never felt scared to be alone in their club. You knew for a fact more than half of the guards were watching your every move, knowing they'd probably suffer consequences if anything happened to you under the roof of The Palace.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

You did not want to find Shuri. She was more than likely pissed. Just like you knew what made Riri mad, you knew what made Shuri mad. And one thing she hated was being ignored by anyone, and you were no exception.

There was also that fact that she was the harsher one out of the two. Usually, you could always pull one over with Riri. Talking back, rolling your eyes, smacking your lips, the whole nine yards. At least, for a while. After a certain amount of times she'd get mad too. But with Shuri, she'd be mad if she even heard you thinking about talking back.

You weren't scared of her by any means, you knew she wouldn't do anything to hurt you purposefully. Intimidated though? Oh yeah, 100 percent you were shitting your pants.

But their was no doubt Shuri had been alerted of your arrival and was keeping and eye out for you. So either she knew where your were and was on her way, or she was already here.

You sighed, excepting your fate as you made your way over to the stairs. She usually stayed on the upper two levels as they were more secluded and had some VIP sections. You climbed all the way up to the third level, hoping for some time to prepare yourself before she caught you.

Your hope was crushed when a hand wrapped around your throat, your back being pressed up against the wall behind you harshly. You were going to let out a panicked scream when your eyes met her familiar chocolate ones, a cocky smirk that her and Riri shared spreading across her face.

"My y/n." She greeted with a light smile, letting you catch a glimpse of the gold grills she wore today. You reached up to grab the wrist of the hang currently around your throat. Shuri noticed, loosening her grip just a little with caution. "What a surprise it is to see you here after what I think was-" She pretended to count on her free hand. "Right. Three weeks."

"It was actually two and a half weeks. Unless you rounded-" Your sentence was cut off when she tightened her grip once again, a silent warning that she was not in the mood for your slick comments today.

"Still a smart aleck." She observed. Her eyes trailed down your figure to take in your outfit, Riri's hoodie that was now open had fallen to an off the shoulder look, showcasing the cropped short sleeve you had on. Other than that, you just had on some simple ripped jeans with writing on them.

Her eyes returned to yours, a certain glint in her eye that made you nervous. Just like Riri had, she leaned in closer so that her lips were right next to your ear as she spoke, her tone sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to tell me why you think it is ok to ignore me. To ignore Ri."

Keeping your act up, your turned you head away so she wasn't right next to your ear. Shuri only chuckled at your defiance, taking the opportunity to mark up the now open side of your neck. The hand that was once around your throat moved down so it was on you hip, keeping you pinned against the wall as her lips trailed down, pressing light kisses to your neck that you knew would get harsher soon.

Shuri moved her head so she was in your line of sight again.

"Things haven't changed since you were gone. When I ask you something, you answer." She said, watching as you turned away from her again, crossing your arms. She took your chin in between her thumb and finger, forcing you to look at her. "What happened to my good girl, baby?" She asked, swiping her thumb over your bottom lip. For a second, you almost fell for it. But you snapped yourself out of it, ripping yourself from her grasp and quickly walking away from her before she could react.

You were confused when you didn't hear her footsteps following after you. She could easily catch up as you were still very in her line of sight. But soon your question was answered when Riri appeared out of nowhere, turning a corner and backing into the same position you were just in. Pressed against a wall.

"Such a fucking brat. Walking away when we're talking to you, talking back. What are we gonna do with you?" She asked rhetorically. She gave you a smile, letting her hand come up to pull at one of your hairs that had fallen out of the bun you made. Shuri came to stand next to her and you pressed yourself further into the wall, if that was even possible. Separately, you were willing to pull almost everything. But when the two were finally together, you knew better than to try anything.

Unfortunately, it was too late for anything else. You had to continue. Gots to see it through my boy.

You were gonna 'see it through' alright. ---------------- "Please, I came already." You whined, trying to push Shuri's head away as you came down from your high for the umpteenth time. Riri's hand grabbed yours, pulling them away while she kissed on your neck, trying to calm you down.

"Cum again." Shuri muttered, pressing a wet kiss to your overstimulated clit, chuckling when you jumped from how sensitive you were.

You three had been going at it for what felt like forever. After the whole confrontation, they drove you to their house, teasing you the whole way. Once you did get there, they spared no time getting you to the bed. Since then, it felt like you had done everything under the sun but stop.

Literally, everything. You'd lost count of how many times you'd came, but you knew for a fact it had to be in double digits. You could only imagine how you looked.

Hair frizzy, sweaty, tear stains running down your cheeks, cum around your lips that you were unable to wipe yourself. Riri and Shuri didn't bother to either, quite liking the look on you. You were exhausted, overstimulated, and clinging on to consciousness by a pinky toenail. But they never stopped. There hasn't been a break since you walked through the door.

At first, you were conflicted. You couldn't tell if you even wanted them to stop. It hurt so bad that it started to feel good. The pain blended in with the pleasure and you couldn't help but ask for more. But when you felt another one of Shuri's digits dip in for another round you knew something had to give.

"Okayyy, I'm sorry. Please." You begged, seeing your vision get cloudy as more tears appeared. Riri's voice came from behind you, you could feel her warm breath on your neck though you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Sorry for what, mama?" She pressed. All that came from you were mumbles of an apology as you still tried to break your hands from her grasp.

In the moment you weren't in a good position to realize it, but the fact that she could keep you pinned down with just her own strength was making you even more wet than you already were. Shuri realized though, smirking between your legs as she slowed down her pace.

Shuri used her free hand to push herself up from the bed, kissing up your body and over fresh marks until she met your tired eyes. "What are you sorry for?" She repeated, looking down at you with lidded eyes of her own.

You began to reply but only a groan left you when you felt her purposely angle her fingers at your favorite spot. "Hm?" She mocked, still waiting for an answer.

"M'm sorry for- fuck, sorry for ignoring you." You apologized, your head falling back onto Riri's shoulder as your eyes rolled behind your lids, feeling Shuri speed up once again, targeting that same spot. "Shit, Shuri please."

"Please what, baby?" She teased, tilting her head with a mock of confusion. You whined again, frustrated with her taunting.

She shared a look over your shoulder with Riri, who released your hands and started to pin down you hips instead. Your hands immediately flew out for something to ground you. The first things you could get your hands on being Shuri's wrist and Riri's hand.

"Do you want her stop or do you want more? You're confusing her baby." Riri added, watching closely at how your brows furrowed and your back arched when she applied the slightest amount of pressure to your abused clit, practically shoving you over the edge.

"Stop! I want her to stop." You mumbled, finally able to get your thoughts together enough to make a complete sentence. Having some pity, Shuri slowly dragged her fingers against your walls while she pulled out, curling them one last time just to see you squirm.

Just as slow, she brought them to her lips. Feeling both your and Riri's eyes watching her carefully, she decided at the last second that she wanted you to take them instead. She tapped them on your close lips, watching as you opened them to take in her coated digits.

Taking the sight in, she hums, obviously please with your obedience (as it did take a long time to get back). That was all the acknowledgement she gave you before she and Riri made eye contact over your shoulder again, and Riri's hand began to circle your bud again.

You whimpered, trying to back yourself into the girl to get away from her touch. They both ignored you in their own conversation about what to do with you, Riri keeping you in place while Shuri forced her fingers further down your throat, making you gag.

Suddenly, the feeling of Shuri was ripped from your mouth and replaced with Riri's tongue as they tried to distract you from the feeling of Shuri's slender fingers dipping back into your already sensitive hole. You immediately pulled away, already feeling yourself starting to ache.

"Shuriii." You dragged, watching as the girl lowered between your thighs again. She shushed you, placing a delicate kiss to your thigh, though dangerously close with your entrance.

"Just one more baby, I promise." She soothed, caressing the same thigh she had kissed with her free hand. "Can you do that for us, love?" She spoke softly, taking one of your hands in hers to kiss.

"You've been doing so good for us tonight, pretty girl. We just wanna make you feel good one last time, can you let us do that mama?" Riri coaxed from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach to calm you. Debating, you took Riri's hand in your other one, trying to relax yourself into her. "One more, we promise." She whispered, pressing a sweet kiss right under your ear.

"Okay." You agreed. Your words came out mumbled but they both understood you. Shuri smiled up at you, pressing another kiss to your thigh as a thanks before she joined her fingers that had never stopped moving.

The second her tongue makes contact with your clit your hands are fisting through her hair, pulling around the tight coils on her head.

There are a few more strokes of her tongue before she wraps her lips around your awaiting clit, your slick coating her tongue as she swirls it around your clit just before wrapping her lips around the bud.

Her fingers are buried deep inside of your cunt as she sucks your pulsing bundle of nerves into her mouth. There's a second where she sucks just hard enough to make your vision go white at the same time Riri decides to pinch and rub on the sensitive buds on your chest.

Feeling the coil in your stomach tighten, you let out a load moan when Shuri curls her fingers against your g spot one more time before you let go, clenching the sheets in your hand. Riri whispers sweet praises in your ear, rubbing soothing circles on your hips to calm you down while Shuri fingers you through your high, waiting for your legs to stop shaking before she pulls away, your essence coating both her fingers and lips.

She slipped the drenched fingers between her lips, licking your cum from between her fingers before leaning over your frame to trap Riri's lips in her own, who moaned at the familiar taste of you. Though you were drained, you still manage to keep your hooded eyes open long enough to watch them swapping your cum with each others tongues, eventually swallowing when they had enough.

"Are you ok baby?" Shuri checked, rubbing your side comfortingly. You nodded, sinking into Riri more as she rubbed your thighs. Shuri leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you laugh tiredly, pushing her away. She smiled, leaving you to go get some new sheets, clothes and something to clean you up.

"It wasn't too much, right?" Riri asked softly. Confused by the question, you craned your head to look up at her, not even wanting to attempt to move your bottom half. Riri had already been looking down at you. "I mean, you didn't pass out this time, but still, we didn't overdo it too much?"

"No, Ri," You answered, reaching up with one of your hands to smooth over her cheek. "It felt good, I promise. Even though there was one point where I was fighting for consciousness." You joked and she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "To be fair though, it was supposed to be a punishment so I figured it wouldn't be all love making and soft caressing."

"Yeah, why were you ignoring us in the first place?" She questioned. You shrugged distractedly, running your thumb over her furrowed brow. "y/n, I'm serious." She said, taking your hand from her face and holding it in her's. You let out a dramatic groan. She was ruining the vibes.

"I got mad because y'all were talking to that bitch Ashley." You mumbled, playing with the hand that had took yours. Before she could even respond you continued on, defending your actions. "But I had a right to be mad, I mean y'all went into a whole ass private room with that chick. Without me!"

"Ok, first off, Okoye was in there so we couldn't have done anything, not like we would want to. We only talk to Ashley about business, that conversation wasn't any different. But, if it helps whenever we talk to her again, we'll make sure you're there too." She compromised and you agreed, thanking her. You two continued talking until Shuri returned with a wet cloth, some sheets, and new clothes.

And the night ended with a nice warm bath. Which you fell asleep in. ----------------

You groaned waking up to the sound of your ringtone. You stretched, feeling a certain weight on your chest. Looking down you saw Riri sleeping soundly with one hand up your shirt and on your boob, Shuri spooning her. You smiled at the sight, reaching over to your nightstand for your phone. You wondered how two supposedly high alert dealers hadn't woken up from the sound, but no matter.

"Bianca?" You mumbled, messing with the features on Riri's face. Two big and bag drug lords and yet they looked like puppies in their sleep.

"y/n, when are you coming to get Asante? No rush, because I'd keep him around forever if you'd let me, I just wanna have him packed up and ready to go." Your sister asked, you could hear your nieces and nephews running around in the background. You pulled the phone away from your ear, checking your phone and groaning once you saw how close it was to noon.

"I'll be there at like, one. I still have to shower and everything." You said, rubbing your hand down your face. You and Bianca chatted about some smaller things before she finally hung up, giving you time to get ready. You smiled at the two next to you, leaning down to press a kiss onto both of their lips, even though they weren't awake to respond to it.

You pulled Riri's strong grip off your titty. She was holding on it like a hungry newborn. You replaced yourself with the pillow behind you, slipping out of the bed, only for you to stumble into the nightstand when you did, startling both of them awake.

The two sprung up from their place as if they weren't just knocked with drool in the corner of their mouths, searching the room frantically until their eyes settled on you, who was currently using the nightstand to stand. They turned to look at each other, holding in their laughs. You glared at them, trying to keep yourself upright so they took your next words serious.

"Both of y'all shut the fuck up and come help me to the bathroom."

"We ain't een say nothing." Riri protested, though she swung her legs to the side, getting up to come help you.

"You ain't need to, your face said enough." You said, holding your hand up for her to help you. Riri disregarded your hand, her small frame bending down to toss you over her shoulder. "Riri!"

"You told me to help you, now you mad I'm helping you. You just acting like this cause we fucked ya lace front off and now you walking like there's an earthquake."

"Shut the hell up and take me to the damn bathroom, Riri!" You demanded, smacking her back and flipping off Shuri who watched on from her position in the bed, clearly amused. ----------------

BRING BACK SHURI AND RIRI X READER ALL 2024!! I'm jumping into the writing scene because i honestly miss the era where everything was about them, and i miss some of my fav writers😔✊🏾

anyways hope yall enjoyed

thank you guys for the inspiration, whether old fics or new @shinsousliya @inmyheadimobsessed @quintessencewrites @saintwrld @marsolgy @pinkwright @vixentheplanet

#riri williams #riri wiliams x reader #ironheart #ironheart x reader #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #shuri x riri #dominique thorne #letitia wright #shuriri x reader #shuri udaku x reader #riri x reader #wlw

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

Hello, my love!

I, unfortunately, missed your requests being open (six pages of a thesis is kicking my ass right now) but when they’re open again, is there a chance you could write another Dad!Price fic?

Since the last one felt so personal to me, would it be possible to have Price helping his daughter through Uni stress? Maybe she asks him to help her on her thesis? Lord knows I could use some inspo/assistance on mine!

Of course, if this is too late then feel free to delete it! I just wanted to pop in and drop a request off before I either, A: forgot about it, or B: missed your requests being open the next time :(

Sending so much love and hugs <3

Late Night Cookies

PAIRING: John Price x Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Stressed and still awake, you go to grab food from the kitchen before you get right back into your work. Your father talks some sense into you over a nostalgic recipe.

WORDCOUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: Stress around school, grades, papers, etc. but 90% fluff and comfort

A/N: I'm so glad you sent something in, Love! So good to hear from you again!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your eyes were blurry and your hands were shaking, the table light shining too brightly in the stillness of your bedroom as a cold breeze wafts through the cracked window.

The words swirled on your computer screen, sitting in front of you as your head slipped forward. Letters bleed into nonsense sentences that even a genius couldn’t make sense out of. There were weights on your fingers—keeping them stuck to the keys.

“And, thus,” your garbled speech slips out, reading the line you’d just written; eyes squinting as your headache flares. “A-and…thus…”

Shaking your head, you pull back and press your palms into your eyesockets, your spine flopping back with an audible crack as it straightens from hours of hunched torture. A groan slips out of your lips.

“Shit,” you growl, sighing harshly.

University, while necessary, was really your worst enemy right now—you’re constantly stressed and getting little sleep; when was the last time you’d eaten? Pages upon pages of typed research seer your eyes while closed. Only in this tight silence of your room were you able to hear the small sounds of the TV on in the house as it wafts in from under the line of your door.

Your hands slip down your face as you stare blankly at your ceiling, eyes burning with fatigue. The muffled shouts from football games play in your ears.

Humming, you push back from your desk and stand, stumbling for a second as your numb legs get prickles of electricity shooting through them. You needed food, water, even. Then you can get back into it. On the way out you snatch a blanket from the frame of your bed, wrapping it over your shoulders to preserve heat.

Like a snail, you shuffle over the hardwood before finally pushing out into the hallway with only a small bump into the door frame. Hissing, the darkness of the house was good, and before long you’d grumbled past the large form laying on the living room couch in need of any form of sustenance. So brain-fried, you end up completely missing the small questioning ask of your name as Liverpool fights off another rival on-screen. Slashing colors dance across the darkness.

The hand on your shoulder, though, you can’t miss.

“Sweetheart?” Your father’s voice brings you back from blankly nodding off into his chest as he turns you around. You jerk back with a rapid fluttering of your eyelashes.

“Yeah?” Your voice slurs, croaky, and you rub again at your cheeks with the corner of your blanket. “What’s up?”

Blue eyes blink down at you in shock at your state, small noise made in the back of the large man’s throat. “Hell’s this, then? Thought you were sleeping already.”

“Sleeping?” The tone is incredulous, a bit of sanity leaking back into your speech. You look up into your dad’s face and his tight beard; his eyebrows are curled in. “I’m not even close to being done. I can’t sleep yet.”

John blinks slowly, gaze darting from the sizable bags under your eyes to the redness of your sclera—the veins that reach for your irises like infectious fingers. His grip on you tightens.

“When’s the last time you took a break, Love?” He asks slowly, taking you by the shoulders and bending down a little. He looks concerned. “It’s bloody dark out.”

You stare and huff a sheepish, tired, smile while your dad’s expression tightens with exasperation. He blinks in disbelief at your non-answer, answer.

“Fuckin’ hell…c’mon, Sunshine, off to bed.” Your head is already shaking.

“I’m hungry.” John sighs, and the air ruffles your hair. But he relents and before you know it there’s a hand on the back of your shoulders corralling you into the kitchen. You lean heavily into your father’s side, and his fingers curl over your opposite arm.

A soft kiss is pressed to your head.

“How long have you been up, eh?” You yawn and lick your lips. Flinching when John flicks the kitchen light on. Burrowing down into your blanket, you seep in his heat like a greedy lizard. “Sweetheart?”

“Dunno,” you’re guided over to the island and plopped down into a chair. “I need to finish my work.”

He chuckles and you slouch over to fold your arms, resting your chin on them. “Well, I suppose you plan on finishing it half-asleep?”

John opens the fridge, looking over the small remnants of supper. He frowns and turns to look at you as your face lays sideways on your limbs. You blink slowly at him.

“...Maybe,” you grumble, face hot.

Your father grunts and closes the fridge, turning back around and crossing his arms.

“No more of this, eh?” He begins, glaring and infecting his words with that infectious authority. “After we get you fed, you’re off to bed. That’s that.”

You’re about to protest before your dad interrupts with a stern growl of your name. You grit your teeth and shamefully dip your head. There’s a moment of silence where the outside sounds of wind and creaking can be heard—the entire world asleep beside the father and daughter in the dim kitchen.

John tilts his head and softens his face; feet carrying him over. Stopping beside you, he places his hand on your scalp and pats you gently, rubbing his thumb into your hair. Lashes flutter, and your body sags into the counter even more. Your father kisses your head and whispers, “You need your sleep, Sweetheart. This’ll do you no good. Pace yourself, you’ll get it done—I promise, yeah?”

“How do you know?” Your voice mutters, hesitation finally showing itself. Eyes stare at the table, red and dry.

Your father chuckles and you glance back. He’s smiling in his own way, wrinkles showing and eyes crinkling with amusement.

“You’ve gotten this far. My girl’s not one to give it up. And even if you do,” he stands and pats your shoulder before he heads to the pantry. Your expression leaks slight confusion as he opens the door. “We can figure it out together. It’s not the bloody end of the world. It’ll pass.”

Your internal anxiety eases at your parent's reassurance, his casual surety more of a blanket than the one you already swaddle yourself with. The subtle anxious shaking of your fingers stills after a moment of cognition. Stuffing down another yawn, you feel a warmth burn in your heart at the words and you smile.

“When did you get all wise?” You tease, seeing John take out various ingredients as you watch. He scoffs.

“The second I got the call I was needed in hospital and had a damn daughter.” You laugh.

“Alright, then,” your sarcastic reply slips out, and John chuckles lowly. After a moment you can’t stop your curiosity, no matter how much your limbs stay heavy. “What are you doing?”

A large bowl had been placed on the counter with a dull thunk. Blue eyes darted at you before measuring cups were spawned next to the previous object.

“What’s it look like, then?” John’s finger casually points to a recipe that had been set up on the wall, a thin and damaged piece of paper with chicken scratch; stains, and crumpled corners. You blink at it in recognition.

“...Cookies?”

“You want chips or cinnamon?”

Watching with wide eyes, you clear your throat and utter, “Uh, c-chips, I guess?” John grunts and focuses with a calm face. The recipe had been a sort of inside joke between the two of you.

When your dad was off on assignment for long periods, you’d always make him a batch when he was set to leave and when he came back—a kind of soothing gesture to ease the uncertainty. To let him know you’d be alright without him here.

He made them for you when you were sick or feeling bad. You blink quickly to dispel the sudden wetness of your eyes.

“You helping?” John asks, not turning to you, as he dumps flour into the bowl. “Won’t taste right if you don’t.” A cheeky tone hits your ears.

Standing, you shuffle over and grab at the chocolate bag, digging inside and stealing a few before your dad can stop you. He gives you a fake glare, huffing under his breath before smirking to himself.

Your body leans into his side and you giggle as he rubs his beard into your head.

—

Hours later, you rest limply against your dad’s shoulder on the living room couch, empty plate on the coffee table and the TV low. You breathe softly and get the sleep you both deserve and need—of course, the work would start back up tomorrow, but it always would. Having your dad in your corner was the thing to keep you upright; your rock.

John looks down and watches you with a deep well of affection and ease. He kisses your head before his arms reach around you, lifting with no problem.

He carries his little girl, because that was what you would always be, off to bed and tucks you in. Snapping off your desk lamp with a small sigh of contentment and a low hum.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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astroboots · 1 year

Note

Can we just think about somno/cock warming with Steven for a quick sec? Like imagine getting sweet doe eyed Steven semi hard to sink down onto him just to sleep. Waking up to the poor man whimpering and begging for you. Lord take my soul now.

Summary: Steven is preoccupied by a research task for Marc that keeps him away from bed with you. You decide to keep him warm until he's done in the most distracting way possible.

Word Count: 2,850

Content: somnophilia, cockwarming, overstimulation.

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

It's dark in his flat, the only light is coming from the small desk lamp in the corner and the blue aquarium lighting from the fish tank that bathes everything in a shade of pale neon blue.

The rain is pitter-pattering against the large windows. There is a faint scraping sound of pages being turned every so often.

You're lying in bed, head propped up against your pillow, as you try to keep your eyes open and observe Steven where he's hunched over his desk that's filled with piles and piles of books that he's completely consumed by. He's drowning in the books. Face practically pressing up against the ink that you're convinced will leave smudges on his soft cheeks. His outdated librarian glasses are slipping down the arch of his nose.

"Steven," you murmur sleepily, asking him for the third (or is it the fourth time tonight?) to come join you in bed.

But you get the same reply you got last time. A gentle hum, followed by, "in just a minute, almost finished love."

You give it another minute, then two-- until a good half hour must have passed before you call out for him again.

"Steven."

The only response you get from his is a distracted hum. He doesn't look up.

"Come to bed," you try again, but it's a lost cause.

Ordinarily, you barely have to finish the second syllable of his name before Steven's head pops up like a meerkat, with his alert and undivided attention focused all on you.

In the rare times he didn't, you'd certainly get his attention by the time you finished the first repetition of his name.

Tonight though?

This is probably the fourth or fifth time for the evening you've asked for him.

You're… annoyed to say the least.

With a heavy sigh, you raise yourself into a sitting position in the bed.

"What is so important it can't wait until morning?"

It comes out just a tad sharper than you had meant it to.

That seems to finally snap Steven out of his trance.

He looks up from his book, turning in your direction as his eyes flicker over to you with a wide-eyed expression of surprise. Like someone's just stirred him from a spell.

"Oh! Sorry sorry," he closes the book in front of him and holds it up to you.

"Marc needed me to decode the location of some ancient map, and it's a bit more complicated than we thought. It's a bit like a treasure hunt, quite fun actually. We're trying to retrace the steps of Hargrave Marks, he's an archaeologist from the 60s, who had this detailed journal of his treks. But I also have to cross-reference it with several history books cause the accounts aren't exactly contemporaneous or accurate even for the time it was written. Hargrave had a tendency to opt for good storytelling instead of accuracy and--"

His excited ramble pewters out as you cross your arms across your chest. It's rather hostile, you realise when you see him bite his lip in worry at the sight and follow up with a much quieter: "Sorry, love.. am I being too loud? Am I keeping you up?"

There's an apologetic smile on his lip, and normally that would be enough to make any traces of irritation thaw and melt into dew. You're soft for Steven that way.

But this time, his cluelessness at the source of your irritation only serves to make you more irritated.

"No, that's hardly the issue. I want you to come to bed with me."

You can admit that you're acting spoiled.

Because you are spoiled. Used to being spoiled rotten by Steven's profuse adoration. The way he constantly showers you with his affection and full attention at all times. It's probably why it feels like something that is rightfully yours (him) has now been unfairly ripped from you by someone else (Marc), and you're not happy about it, childish and unreasonable as it may be.

And poor Steven, he looks genuinely torn, eyes flittering between you and the book pages. Hesitation etched over the line between his brows, his eyes lingering at the reflection of the TV screen for a few conspicuous seconds too long (Marc).

Whatever Marc is saying to Steven, has him sheepishly ducking his head back down towards the books.

"It might take a while longer," he murmurs, eyes not meeting yours. "Maybe half an hour? Or an hour? If you're sleepy you shouldn't stay awake for me. I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I promise."

You lie back down on the mattress with a huff as you turn away from him. Trying to shut out the white noise of his pen scribbling away as the pages continue to turn.

Mad as you may be. It's cosy and warm underneath the sheets. And you had a long day at work. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep. The odds were against you. You don't know how long you are out for, but you wake to the weight of the bed shifting.

Blinking your bleary eyes open, you see Steven with one knee clambering into bed, books strewn all across the mattress, and another half dozen huddled up in his arms, and a pen tucked behind each ear.

"I'm sorry, love. This was taking longer than I thought, and I hate being away from you. I didn't mean to wake you up."

God, this sweet adorable man. All at once, guilt washes over you for having been so harsh to him earlier.

Stretching out your arms, you wrap them around his back and curl one hand around the back of his neck as you pull him down to you, relishing the small "oof" sound he makes as he plops down on top of you with a soft thud against the mattress, books landing somewhere besides you both.

"You finished?" you ask.

He shakes his head, apologetically. "Not quite yet, sorry. But I thought I could maybe do the rest in bed? That way I can at least be close to you. If you don't mind? I'll try to be very quiet."

You hum, pressing your face into the warm crook of his neck. He's so soft and warm. Comforting and steady. You draw in your breath and you're not sure if you're imagining it, but he has that familiarly pleasant smell that reminds you of a bookshop. Notes of coffee and a freshly turned page. Drawing up your lips, you mouth a small path along the line of his neck, and relish the keen little sound that he makes. A quiet little whine as his hips hitch up and press up against your legs.

"Lo-love that's-- oh god that feels--wait, I still--" he's babbling, the way he always does when your lips are on him.

You nip at the soft skin with your teeth, not enough to hurt, just with enough strength that you know will have his toes tingling as he tries to curl them against the sheets for reprieve.

"Wait," he murmurs, even though he's the one who's bearing down his weight down against you, the outline of his cock pressed up against the softness of your stomach, separated only by the comforter. "I--I need," he licks his lips, trying to find his words. Eyes glazed in a way that tells you the blood in his head has travelled south, and his capacity for speech is quickly going with it.

You hum softly, one hand travelling between your torsos as he hisses sharply at the touch of your hand when it brushes up against his clothes then underneath, your knuckles dragging against the bare skin of his soft belly. "Hmm? Need what Steven?"

Reaching for his waistband, you slip your hand into his boxers. He's already half-hard, and still rising as if to meet your fingers as you wrap them around the girth of his cock, and he gasps brokenly with a half-strangled noise.

"Tell me what you need," you remind him.

His pupils are blown wide as he swallows, Adam's apple constricting against that graceful throat. He's trying to find his words again.

"I need to finish my reading. I promised Marc."

"So finish, I'm not going to stop you."

Steven's gaze darts downwards between your body, to where your hand is still wrapped around him under his sleeping pants, with a pointed look in an unspoken accusation that you are in fact: stopping him.

His cock twitches in your grip. You can feel the slick wetness of precum leaking down from the blunt tip, trickling down your knuckles even as Steven is trying very hard not to react.

You can't help the smile that spreads on your lips as you tilt your head up, until they're brushing against his sensitive ear, letting your breath fan against the shell of it as you speak.

"Don't let me distract you, keep going, keep reading. Finish your work." You're still holding him in one hand, as the other moves to the waistband clinging to his backside and drag it down.

You let your nails gently graze along his spine, round hips and thick thighs as you do, enjoying the way he shivers defenselessly under your touch.

"Uhm, love-- you're--"

It doesn't take much encouragement or strength on your part. You grab hold of his hips as you roll him onto his back, and he lets you. No resistance on his part, as you straddle his hips, palms braced on his chest to steady yourself.

"I'm what Steven?"

The tip of his tongue, pink and glistening darts out in a nervous habit against his lower lip.

"No-nothing, nothing..." he manages. Words slurred and clumsy in his mouth as his hands grip onto your thigh as if he never wants to let you go.

It's all you can do, not to laugh. Whatever promises he had made Marc, it seems to have flown out of the cuckoo's nest.

You really should let him finish his work for Marc though, it won't do to make Mr. Grouchy even grouchier. Problem is you're not quite ready to let go of Steven or to relinquish his attention that you've finally earned from him this evening.

Dragging your hand, you let it caress the soft cotton of his shirt from his chest to his stomach then further down as you grip his cock again.

"Don't worry, let's make a compromise" you say as you stroke his cock up and down the fully hardened length as it twitches and jumps in your grip.

Steven is already nodding forcefully before he's even heard what he's agreeing to. You grip his cock angling it between your thighs and you can hear the soft gasp erupting from his mouth as the tip catches against your slick entrance.

"Keep reading, and when you finish--" you tilt your hips, sliding down in a slow and steady pace. The pleasure is sweet and heady as it skitters through your spine.

Steven's fingers grip the flesh of your thighs, trying to drag you down deeper onto his cock. But you refuse to let yourself be rushed, taking your time to prolong the sweet stretch of the thickness of his cock splitting you open as you sink down on him inch by slow, gorgeous inch, until he's buried to the hilt of you.

His eyes are on you, wild and frenzied, like you're the only thing he can see, his whole world: sky, ocean, and every atom in between are composed of you.

Leaning down, you lie flush down on his firm torso, until your breast are pressed up against his chest, you tilt your head up just enough to press a much too chaste kiss on his lips.

"Keep reading" you tell him again and he whines.

"Love, I can't--"

"Finish the work" you interrupt. "You've promised Marc and I'm not going to move an inch until you finish."

His eyes widen impossibly large at your words, as he starts to realize what he's signed himself up for. Then his bottom lip pushes forward. He's actually sulking, and god, he has no right to make pouty look so gorgeous.

Without any words, his right arm reaches out along the mattress, patting it down until he finds one of the books and brings it to his chest. He lets out a slight testy murmur, in a grouchy tone that is much more characteristic of Marc than it ever would be for Steven.

Once the book is settled in his hand and he starts to read, you nestle your face into his chest. It's the best solution to prevent yourself from bursting out into laughter when you hear Steven mumble discontentedly about how: he's never going to do Marc any more favours again.

He still smells of books and coffee, of warmth and happiness that makes you feel weightless against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he reads, hypnotic, like being rocked to sleep, and before you know it you drift to sleep.

You wake to pitch blackness. A sweet syrupy pleasure that flutters somewhere deep in you, but you can't tell where it comes from, and you can't grasp it in your hold. It skitters to your stomach and down to your thighs, warm and soft that makes you clench down to chase the sensation.

A keen gasp fills the room. Too low to be your own voice.

You blink your eyes against the darkness, mind still fussy and drunk with sleep, as you shift your body and are rewarded with that sweet-honeyed pleasure swirling through your stomach, except brighter this time, sharper, and you can't help but clench down again, hoping you can catch it this time and make it stay.

The sound comes again, a sweet gorgeous gasp, except this time, it breaks off in the middle with a quiet whimper.

"Love, please..." the voice pleads with you.

It's such a pretty voice, soft-spoken and gentle, but it sounds almost pained.

Steven...

You dart up, elbow anchored against his firm and solid chest as you look down on him, the small patch of drool on his white shirt, shit...

Trying to raise yourself further, the warm pleasure drags against your insides, and you can't help the moan slipping past your lips. Thick and heavy, his cock is still inside of you jerking from the movement in protest.

You fell asleep on him.

"I finished all my work now." He says it like an announcement.

You look down until your eyes meet. They're sharp. Mouth in a firm line of concentration. Then his hands grip down on the outside of your thighs, hard enough that you think he might leave permanent dents.

Patient, sweet, polite Steven is at the end of his ropes it seems. He pushes you down flush against him until you're pressed down as far as you can take him. It's white and electric, no longer the slow and lazied pleasure you've dreamt of in your half-awake state.

"Been having a nice restful nap, you have," he says, and you don't miss the sarcastic tone in his voice even as he groans, low in his throat, while he continues to reprimand you.

"Did you know that you've been shifting and squeezing down on my cock the whole time? No, I don't imagine you did, love."

The firm weight underneath you shifts, and you barely have a second to breathe and regain your composure before Steven raises his hips, thrusting up and into you as far as he goes.

"Felt like I was going mad."

He lifts you up, hands beneath the underside of your thighs, as he drags his cock alongside you, slowly. Maddening.

It feels like payback. The sweetest lesson you've ever earned.

"Said you weren't going to move until I've finished," Steven reminds you, as he holds you still. "But I've been done for quite a while, and you've been moving quite a lot before then actually. Writhing, hot and wet around me. I can actually feel it dripping out of you."

He pulls out of you until only the fat tip is resting inside you, his hips flush back down against the mattress. One hand draws down between your legs, his thumb sliding wetly against your folds, infuriatingly slow, until he's reached your clit but doesn't press down. He holds it there, without any pressure as if he's waiting for something.

"You ready love?" he asks, holding you poised against him, his hips canting up in preparation

Steven searches for your eyes, and the look in his eyes, focused and honed, has your heart beat fast and excitedly with no logical rhythm against your ribs.

"Yes, Steven."

It's all he needs, he thrusts up as his hands pull you down on him in a devastating stroke that incinerates the air in your lungs.

You're in for a long night, and whatever shortlived sleep you managed to catch earlier won't be enough for what Steven has in mind for you two. Not when you've gotten him riled up like this.

But that's alright.

You look down at Steven, eyes glassy with a feverish sheen. All of his attention pinned on you.

It's not so bad is it? To get to have all of Steven's devoted attention for yourself like this.

Dedication: To @thirstworldproblemss who was indispensable as always, for the brainstorming, the coming up with the hottest Steven dialogue (jesus fucking christ her lines are fucking fire) and for the beta-ing and putting up with my atrocious run-on sentence, tenuous grasp of grammar and wilful typos. I love you.

Also to the secret nonny. You don't know what your ask did to me (and TWP) we went into a horny frenzy and I couldn't sleep haunted by the horny images that were flashing behind my eyes because of your ask. I adore you! thank you for sending this in.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

#oscar isaac #moon knight #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #💌 asks

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blackswaneuroparedux · 10 months

Text

I recognise Walt Disney’s talent but it has always seemed to me hopelessly corrupted. Though in most of the pictures proceeding from [Disney] studios there are admirable or charming passages, the effect of all of them to me is disgusting. Some have given me nausea.

J.R.R. Tolkien

If Disney turned his stomach we can assume Tolkien would be turning in his grave at what Amazon Studios have done with 'Rings of Power'.

Tolkien's main objection to Disney - and something shared with C.S. Lewis - was how childish Disney treated fairy tales. For Tolkien fairy tales were serious business.

At the crux of his argument, which explores the nature of fantasy and the cultural role of fairy tales, is the same profound conviction that there is no such thing as writing “for children.” Tolkien insists that fairy tales aren’t inherently “for” children but that we, as adults, simply decided that they were, based on a series of misconceptions about both the nature of this literature and the nature of children. Tolkien deeply believe in language, myth, and Fairy, in that he recognised, they are deeply human things. Indeed, it is a natural right of humanity to produce fantasy.

And ye fail completely when we believe that Fairy is for children, Tolkien argued, noting that traditionally Fairy deals with the most difficult human problems, and children - understood as yet-to-be-formed humans - fall into the category of human, but they have no special hold or understanding of Fairy. Tolkien argued that the path to Fairy is neither the path to heaven nor to hell. It might be somewhat purgatorial, however, and certainly otherworldly. Fairy itself, far from being supernatural, is the most natural of worlds. Indeed, it is extraordinarily natural, as natural things live only as themselves. Rather Platonically, the tree is truly the tree (Treebeard), wine is truly wine, and bread (Lembas) is truly bread in Fairy. That is, there is little if any separation of the accidents of a thing from the essence of a thing. Those in fairy, though, through pride of beauty, often present themselves in disguise and as things they are not, thus befuddling the wanderer.

Words, definitions, and analyses, Tolkien warned, can offer only so much understanding of Fairy. Instead, one must not only travel to and through Fairy, but he must also recognise that fairy - like all mythology - is an expression of our deepest longings and fears.

A genuine fantasy, according to Tolkien, creates an immersive experience for the reader. In a successful fantasy, the author is a ‘sub-creator’: as Tolkien puts it, “He makes a Secondary World which your mind can enter. Inside it, what he relates is ‘true’: it accords with the laws of that world. You therefore believe it, while you are, as it were, inside.”

He goes on to argue that this sort of fantasy has three essential functions: recovery, escape, and consolation. Using the metaphor of a dirty, smudged window - whose film of grime obscures what we see through it - he says that we need “to clean our windows; so that the things seen clearly may be freed from the drab blur of triteness or familiarity - from possessiveness.” Fantasy helps us with this recovery of clear vision. He distinguishes the literary escape offered by good fantasy from the negative quality of escapism. And he explains the idea of consolation by coining the word eucatastrophe. It is formed of ‘eu,’ meaning good, attached to ‘catastrophe, and it means “the good catastrophe”: the unexpected happy ending, which gives us a profound taste of joy. We see it in The Lord of the Rings with the rescue of Frodo and Sam, after the destruction of the Ring, when they are sure that all is lost; we see it even more fully in the final chapters and indeed the final pages of the tale.

#tolkien #jrr tolkien #quote #lord of the rings #books #disney #walt disnery #fairy tales #animation #stiry telling

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theostrophywife · 2 years

Text

middle of the night.

masterlist (azriel x reader) author's note: inspired by middle of the night by loveless. i'm pretty sure i blacked out 90% of the time i spent writing this so please enjoy. warning: smut. smut. and more smut. i can't warn you all enough. summary: when you're forced to share a room with the shadowsinger at the moonstone palace, sleep is the last thing on either one of your minds.

“Do I have to share a room with her?””

The shadowsinger crosses his arms and frowns, the permanent scowl etched on his face setting in even deeper while he glares at you from across the room. You roll your eyes in response, leaning against the pale stone wall for support while removing the death traps strapped to your feet. You had half a mind to take a page out of your High Lady’s book and chuck the heels directly at Azriel’s head.

“Oh relax, shadowsinger. This wicked witch has no plans of tainting your innocence in the middle of the night.”

Beside you, Cassian tried and failed to suppress a snort. Azriel shot his brother a withering glare, which the Illyrian general returns with an apologetic smile. While you weren’t exactly keen on sharing a room with the shadowsinger either, his reluctance and aversion made it that much more enticing. Besides, it wasn’t like you had a choice. With Keir renovating the Moonstone Palace, you and your friends were all required to double up. The mates would obviously share, leaving your options between Azriel, Mor, and Amren.

You assumed that Mor would room with you, but the blonde picked Amren in a swift act of betrayal and winked as she left you to deal with the shadowsinger. Traitor.

“I’m sure you two can manage to get along for one night,” Rhys says with exasperation, weary from the earlier festivities.

Visiting the Court of Nightmares was always an ordeal and tonight was no exception. Eris had been invited to the All Hallows Eve ball and the High Lord had tasked you with obtaining information about his dealings with Keir. With the help of a tight fitting dress and a few flirtatious smiles, Beron’s heir was nothing but putty in your hands by the end of the night.

Not only had he divulged his plans of opening trade between your courts, but Eris also inquired about your diplomatic ties to the west, which told you that the Autumn Court intended on extending business to the Continent. It was an overall successful mission and all you really had to do was bat your eyelashes and dance with the handsome lordling.

Still, those waltzes had really done a number on your feet and you were ready to collapse into the nearest available bed, shadowsinger be damned.

“Will you please just stop being a giant Illyrian baby and do as we’re told so I can finally get some godsdamned rest?”

Azriel huffs in annoyance and stalks away in the direction of what you assumed would be your shared quarters. Dangling your heels in one hand and the heavy skirts of your dress in the other, you bid Rhys and Cassian good night before following after the Illyrian warrior.

“Try not to kill each other,” Rhys calls over his shoulder.

“No promises, Rhys.”

The High Lord mutters a prayer under his breath as he and Cassian head towards the opposite side of the palace. With a sigh, you push open the door that Azriel had disappeared into. To your annoyance, you found him sprawled out on the bed with his hands behind his head.

“Absolutely not,” you say, stalking into the room and discarding your shoes onto the wooden floor. “You’re not getting the bed.”

He sneers, sitting upright to face you. “Can you at least attempt not to make a mess everywhere you go?” Azriel strides over to the door and deposits your shoes by the wooden dresser where his boots were currently neatly perched. Peculiar male.

His dark head perks up as he stands to his full height, towering a good foot over you. “And I am absolutely claiming the bed. First come, first serve.”

You snort. “Yeah, I’m sure you know all about coming first.” Striding over to the ornate vanity by the window, you settle into the wooden chair and began pulling out the jewels pinned to your curls.

Azriel rolls his eyes. “Do you have to be so crude?”

The crimson slash of your smile is nothing but predatory as you shake your unbound hair over your shoulder. “My apologies to your virginal ears,” you retort with dripping sarcasm.

The Illyrian warrior sighs as though the fate of the realm rests solely on his shoulders. Nothing in the entirety of Prythian irritated you more, but that was just the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger. To say that you and Azriel didn’t get along was a massive understatement. Pairing you two together was like dropping a lit match onto a field soaked with gasoline. Someone was bound to get burned.

“I meant what I said about our sleeping arrangements,” you announce, meeting Azriel’s gaze in the mirror. “I will get that bed one way or another. I didn’t endure a night of blisters just to sleep on the floor.”

Azriel scoffs. “You weren’t complaining when you were on the dance floor with Eris earlier.”

You made a show of gathering the jewels into a neat pile while glaring at him. “Well, I’d be pretty shit at my job if I were. At least the Autumn lordling made it worth my while.”

“Clearly, you have no problem fraternizing with the enemy.”

A surge of magic crackles through your fingertips. It wasn’t like you enjoyed flirting with Eris. Sure, the male was handsome and charming, but you took your job seriously and you didn’t appreciate Azriel questioning your motives. You knew that playing the political game at hand was necessary to keep the Night Court safe.

“I haven’t forgotten who Eris is for one second, but unlike you, I’m able to control my emotions so I can gather intel for the good of this court.” You rose to standing and though you barely reached Azriel’s shoulders, you didn’t balk from his intense stare. “Would you rather have me maim our honored guest?”

“It sure as hell would’ve been less sickening than having to watch you two fawn over each other all night.”

You pause, taking in his features. The cold mask of indifference faded away and you could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke. A slow smile spreads across your face as realization dawns on you.

“Are you jealous, shadowsinger?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Azriel exclaims. “Why would I ever be jealous of Eris?”

You shrug, fully reveling in the irritation flashing across those hazel eyes of his. “Maybe you have a crush. I mean, I can’t say I blame you. I heard that Autumn Court males have fire in their veins and that they fuck like it too.”

Azriel gapes at you, shadows peering over his shoulders in amusement. There were only a few things in this realm that you enjoyed more than the sight of his flustered expression. The feared spymaster of the Night Court blushing like an innocent maiden thanks to your dirty mouth.

“The filth that comes out of your mouth would bring the males in Illyria to their knees.”

You smirked. “Good, it puts them in the perfect position to kiss my ass.”

Despite himself, Azriel laughs. It was full and rich, the sound reverberating through your skin as his laughter filled the room. You realize with a jolt that tonight was the first time you've actually heard his real laugh. Maybe that’s what possessed you to say what you said next.

“I am serious about taking the bed, whether you’re in it or not.”

Azriel raises a brow, but says nothing as you stride past him on the way to the bathroom. As you close the door behind you, the shadowsinger calls out with an amused voice, “Don’t use up all the hot water, witchling.”

“Bite me, batling,” you retort with mockery, throwing a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.

His dark laughter trails after you as you enter the bathroom. With a hand on your hip, you examine the porcelain tub positioned in the middle of the marble floor, its size large enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. Steam rose from the bath and it was all the invitation you needed to strip out of your clothes.

You carefully unclasp the sapphire necklace hanging around your neck and set it against the counter. Reaching towards the back of your dress, you tug on the button securing the halter top, but it wouldn’t seem to budge. You tried again, attempting to maneuver the clasp to no avail.

After angling your arms in a dozen uncomfortable positions, you let out a sigh of frustration. You were almost tempted to use your magic to unfasten the damned thing, but you were too afraid to ruin the beautiful dress.

An abrupt knock at the door nearly made you jump out of your own skin. “What’s taking so godsdamned long? I’d like to actually bathe and sleep before dawn.”

You roll your eyes even though Azriel couldn’t see beyond the wooden door. “My dress is stuck.”

There was a pause of silence on the other side. Hesitantly, Azriel spoke again. “Do you need help?”

You gaze into the enormous mirror, blowing out a tendril of dark hair from your eyes. The reflection that peered back had a sheen of sweat coating her olive skin and frustration at the inability to undress was written all over her dark kohl rimmed eyes, but you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You'd find a way out of this dress one way or another. Tugging at the fabric once again, you overshot your aim and banged your elbow against the marble countertop with a loud smack.

Azriel curses from the other side of the door. “Oh for fuck’s sake-“ With a frustrated sigh, he stalks into the bathroom and found you clutching your arm in pain. “Just admit you need my help.”

“No thanks, I’m not providing free material for your spank bank.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes. “Your stubbornness is going to get you injured.” He came closer, but you took a step backwards and unwisely cornered yourself into the sink.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Stop being a godsdamned brat and come here.”

The authority laced in Azriel’s command made you stand upright. A glimpse of the feared spymaster leaked out then, his hazel eyes beckoning you forth as though he could see right through you. You understood then why his victims always talked. One look and you were damn ready to spill all of your deepest darkest secrets.

Silently, you turned around and suddenly found the ceiling quite interesting. Azriel came up behind you and swept your hair over your shoulder with ease, his shadows sweeping over your skin in a gentle caress. You involuntarily shivered, willing yourself to stay still while his fingers found the culprit of a button.

Through the mirror, Azriel met your gaze. His eyes swept over your form, taking in the tight dress adorning your body. Mor had truly pulled out all the stops for your mission tonight and it showed in the elegant drape of the lace fabric. The high neckline came up to your throat in an uncharacteristically modest cut, but the small opening at the front dipped dangerously low, allowing a generous view of your cleavage. The shadowsinger's eyes traveled down your exposed skin, a slight smirk adorning his lips while you held your breath.

Azriel gripped your waist firmly with his left hand while his right traveled up your back. He took his time, humming softly while his fingers danced up the column of your spine. Even through the fabric, an electric jolt awakened every nerve ending while he painstakingly took his time. Languid and unhurried, his touch brushed the back of your neck and elicited a wave of desire to pulsate in your lower abdomen. Suddenly, your mouth felt uncomfortably dry while your skin burned with a flash of heat. You licked your lips instinctively while trying not to notice the effects of the shadowsinger's touch.

In one swift move, the hook came undone and you barely had time to gather the fabric to your chest to avoid flashing Azriel. His fingers grazed your bare skin before his hand retreated back to his side.

It was only for a split second, but you could’ve sworn that you saw a flash of something predatory in Azriel’s reflection.

“Thanks,” you murmur quietly.

You needed to get away from his touch and the onslaught of arousal it stirred within you.

Turning around, you ran right into the solid wall that was Azriel’s chest. A scarred hand gripped your arm to keep you from stumbling and the overwhelming scent of night chilled mist and cedar invaded your senses. You wanted to blame your sudden outburst of clumsiness on the faerie wine you’d consumed earlier, but it had been hours since your last drink and you currently felt alarmingly sober. As you look up into those familiar hazel eyes, the flush that spreads over your cheeks betrays every bout of logic within you.

Shit. Were you turned on by the shadowsinger?

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it. All the verbal sparring and tension between you and Azriel had been brewing for some time. Sometimes you wondered if all the arguments were just a precursor to your own fucked up version of foreplay.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day that you’re thanking me for undressing you,” Azriel says in a low, cool voice. There was something flirtatious and suggestive in the husky tone of his words, awakening a familiar ache in your core.

You swallow thickly. “Now who’s being crude?”

“Don’t worry, witchling. I never start anything I can’t finish.”

Cauldron boil and fry you, the rush of arousal has shot straight to your head.

Azriel smirks, locking you in place as he leans closer. You hold your breath as his face dips towards yours until only a wisp of air separates your mouth from his. The tension was palpable in the air and you felt a surge of electricity thrum through your veins when his gaze flickers to your lips.

A beat passes as your eyes meet. It would be so easy to give in and allow yourself to taste him, but before your hormone addled brain could make you do something you’d undoubtedly regret, Azriel reaches for the robe behind you and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Hurry up or I’m taking the bed for myself.”

With that, the shadowsinger disappears through the door while you stare back at your reflection once again. You had a crazed look in your eyes and your cheeks were flushed as though you had just finished running up the ten thousand steps at the House of Wind. Shame was written all over your face from the desire wafting off of you in waves.

A cold shower. You needed a godsdamned cold shower.

Apparently, a working hearth was not part of Keir’s plans of renovation for the Moonstone Palace. The cold blooded lizard probably had no need for a fireplace anyways given his reptilian nature. You sighed, wrapping the thick blankets over yourself in a desperate attempt for warmth.

After your much needed bath, you were surprised to discover Azriel setting up a makeshift bed for himself on the floor. Whatever anomaly of sexual tension that passed between you in the bathroom quickly dissipated as weariness threatened to take you under. You were all too glad to climb into bed and let sleep claim you, but the freezing wind had other ideas.

“Will you stop your tossing? I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way down here,” Azriel grumbles in the dark.

“It’s not my fault that it’s bloody freezing,” you respond in equal annoyance.

“Use a blanket.”

“No shit, shadowsinger. If only I’d thought of that,” you buried yourself further underneath the sheets. “Oh wait, I did and I’m still likely to lose a leg to frostbite.”

“So fucking dramatic,” he muttered under his breath. You could hear him rustling in the darkness. Then, a dip in the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Moonlight streamed through the windows, reflecting the red and gold membrane of Azriel’s wings as he stood over you. With his dark hair perfectly tousled and eyes glowing golden in the night, the arousal from earlier came rushing back with a vengeance. Suddenly, sharing the same bed with the shadowsinger felt a little too close to tempting fate. Unaware of your wayward thoughts, he lifted the sheets and gestured for you to make room.

“Scoot over.”

You clutch the blanket to your chest. “Not a chance.”

Annoyance was written all over his face. “I’m warm, you’re cold. Do you want to freeze to death or not?”

It didn’t take long for you to mull your choices over. You were rather fond of your limbs and had no desire to lose them to the glacial temperatures. That was the only reason you allowed Azriel to climb into bed with you, or so you told yourself.

Azriel shifted beside you, trying to settle into a comfortable position to accommodate his large wings. Wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms. His body warmth was deliciously satisfying and you shamelessly pressed against him, effectively using the male as your own personal heater.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding. You’re as cold as ice.”

His arms circled around your waist, pressing your back firmly against him. Azriel pulled the blankets over you, enveloping your bodies in a warm, comfortable heat.

You sigh in relief. “I told you. I always knew Keir was a sadist, but this is another level of cruelty.”

Azriel’s soft laughter fans over the crook of your neck as you unabashedly snuggle into his warmth. “You’re a greedy little witchling, aren’t you?”

You press your cold toes onto his bare legs, earning a yelp from the shadowsinger.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I might be a prick, but you’re the one using me for my body.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, shadowsinger. I’d easily cuddle with Bryaxis if it meant not freezing to death.”

That dark laughter again. It swept over you like rumbling thunder and suddenly the temperature in the room spiked. You tense, freezing in place against Azriel’s arms. He must’ve mistook the action for a shiver because before you knew it, Azriel was pulling you closer, the warmth of his hands slipping over your midsection.

“Better?” He asks in a low, husky voice. Was it just you or did his voice dip an octave deeper? Azriel’s fingers hover over your stomach, rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“Mhmm,” you mumble in response, entirely distracted by the small ministrations he was unknowingly torturing you with.

A small whimper crawled up the back of your throat and you did your best to hide it with a yawn. Azriel seemed entirely oblivious to his effect on you as his hands inch further and further up your ribcage, darting dangerously close to your sternum. Every sweep of his fingers against your skin had you clenching your thighs together.

Mother save you, you truly needed to get a hold of yourself. This was Azriel, for Cauldron’s sake. You hated the male with every fiber of your being. If only your body could get with the program instead of leaning into the sweep of his large hands.

Sleep. You needed to sleep. Whatever delusional thoughts currently running through your oxygen deprived brain would soon correct itself after a good night’s rest.

Shutting your eyes close, you willed yourself to wind down. You would not let horniness dig its sharp claws into you. Eventually, your wired mind gave way to the invitation of hazy thoughts and blurry dreams until you felt a strange sensation.

“Azriel?”

“Hmm?” His sleep coated answer echoes in the darkness.

“Please tell me that’s Truth-teller digging into my back.”

Because there it was, his hardness pressing against your backside.

“Shit,” Azriel curses loudly at the same time that you squirm in place. The sudden movement made you accidentally grind your ass into him and the growl that came out of his mouth was utterly unholy. “Do not do that.”

His hand curls around your arm, keeping you a safe distance away from his erection. You turn over to face him and while you made a conscious effort not to glance down, you still caught a glimpse of the bulge protruding from his underclothes. Azriel sat up and instantly covered himself with blankets, but it was a wasted effort. You’d already seen everything.

You mirrored his movement, pulling yourself up into a seated position and crossing your legs underneath you.

Azriel began to say “I’m sorry” at the same time that you blurted out “It’s fine.”

For once in your immortal life, you found yourself speechless. The only sound that you managed to make was a choked giggle that Azriel instantly glared at you for.

“Now is not the time to laugh,” he grunts.

You hold up your hands. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not laughing at you. It’s just been a very weird night.”

The flush on Azriel’s cheeks made his golden brown skin glow underneath the moonlight. “No shit,” he blew out a breath. “An unexpected erection wasn’t exactly part of my plans.”

You tried your best to tamper down the nervous giggle rising in your throat. “Can I do anything to help?”

Azriel bowed his head and groaned. “No, I think you’ve done enough.”

“Are you honestly blaming me for your hard-on?” you ask incredulously. Leave it to Azriel to make his erection entirely your fault.

“I wouldn’t have a hard on if you weren’t grinding your ass into my dick.”

“I was cold!” you exclaimed. “Besides, if I was truly grinding my ass into your dick, we wouldn’t be sitting here arguing.”

“You’re making it worse.”

The pained expression on Azriel’s face confirmed the statement.

“I’m just talking!” Crossing your arms, you readied yourself for the oncoming argument. Any chance of sleep had gone entirely out the window. As always, the shadowsinger was being a colossal pain in the ass. “You’re the one shoving your greedy little hands underneath my shirt.”

“We wouldn’t be in this position if you’d stopped your damn complaining. You were freezing. I was trying to help.”

“Well, you helped too much.”

Azriel’s brows rose. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shit. You’d definitely revealed more than you intended to. “Nothing, forget it. Can we just go to bed?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a resting mood right now.”

“Godsdamned it,” you mutter. The Mother was honestly testing your sanity tonight. “Fine, just think about things that will turn you off. Rusty daggers? Unkempt rooms? Oh, I know. Cassian in a dress!”

He huffed in frustration. “You’re not helping.”

You tittered. “No, you’re right. Cassian in a dress is definitely a turn on for you.”

Azriel grits his teeth. “For the love of gods, stop talking.”

“I’m just trying to help. Clutching your crotch is not going to get us any closer to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Please, like I didn’t smell your arousal earlier in the bathroom and in bed. At least I’m considerate enough to not mention it.”

“Considerate is the last word I’d use to describe you. Asshole is particularly high on the list.” You paused, narrowing your eyes as his words slowly dawned on you. “Wait. You could tell that I was turned on earlier? Is that why you kept touching me?” The shit-eating grin on Azriel’s face was response enough. “Oh you’re dead, shadowsinger.”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining when I was doing it.”

“Prick.”

“Brat.”

You stared at one another, cheeks flushed, eyes wild, and chests rising and falling in harmonious rhythm. Whether the palpable tension filling the room was from your verbal sparring or something else entirely, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that a familiar sensation of desire was now pooling in your core, igniting your entire body with desperate need as Azriel’s gaze dips lower to your mouth.

“I might be a brat, but you’re obviously turned on by it.”

The depths of his hazel irises were nearly swallowed by his blown out pupils. “Shut. Up.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

The expression that bloomed on Azriel’s face was entirely primal. A shock of electricity crackled in the air, summoning a magnetic pull to the stubborn male before you. Warning bells blared within your mind, but you ignored it. The desire surging between you was impossible to resist.

You wanted to taste him.

You needed to taste him.

Against all logic and sense, Azriel surges forward and hungrily presses his mouth against yours. You tilt your chin up to meet his lips, fingers greedily intertwining into his dark locks. Azriel tasted like sin. His lips were soft, plush, and entirely intoxicating. The shadowsinger pulls you closer, his warm mouth pressing kisses onto your lips, neck, shoulder, and whatever surface he could reach.

“You are the most stubborn, frustrating person I have ever met,” he declares as he tilts your head back to allow access to your neck.

“You’re no walk in the park either, shadowsinger.” Your eyes flutter close as he sucks on your soft flesh, leaving marks against your collarbone. “Never in my life have I argued with anyone as much as I’ve argued with you.”

His hands crawl up your spine, pulling you into a tight embrace while you nipped at his neck. “The fact that you’re arguing with me right now, while I’m actively kissing you is a testament of how unwilling you are to let anyone else have the last word. Do you even know how insane you drive me?”

You whimper as he takes your face into his hands. “I can’t even get through an entire day without thinking about you. Your smile, your laugh, your smell. You’re intoxicating.”

He kissed away whatever sarcastic remark you had sitting on the tip of your tongue. Azriel wasn’t the only one feeling euphoric. You were drowning in him, but you couldn’t get enough. The fights, the arguments, the tension - it was all leading up to this. Because the taste of him in your mouth felt like the answer to a question you didn’t even know you’d asked.

“I think about you all the time,” you admit. “It’s absolutely fucking maddening. I think I might be a masochist.”

“You?” Azriel asks in disbelief. “I have been in misery since the moment we met. All those months I’ve spent depriving myself of you, fighting about stupid little things, arguing about anything and everything just to get a sliver of your attention. It’s been torturous, hoping that this feeling would go away, but it hasn’t. I’ve thought about this moment. What you’d taste like. How you’d feel against me. The sounds you’d make,” he pressed an open mouthed kiss underneath your jaw.

A soft moan escapes from your lips and Azriel growls in response.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” The guttural sound swept over you deliciously.

“Then show me.”

Whatever restraint Azriel had before was completely unleashed as he took your lips into his once more. His tongue swept over your bottom lip and darted into your mouth, testing and tasting every inch of you. Your tongues swirled and sucked, fighting for dominance as though this was one of your heated arguments. Azriel pulled you into his lap and you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his.

His hands wandered underneath your silk negligee, deft fingers tugging at the hem. “Is this okay?” Azriel asks.

You nod, too drunk with lust to even form words.

Azriel smirks. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

You pull the thin dress over your head without hesitation, throwing it behind you with careless abandon. “Is that enough of an answer for you?”

He laughs, taking in the sight of you in nothing but skimpy lingerie. You’d never been more glad in your life that you’d packed the matching black lace set that left very little to the imagination. Azriel cups your breasts in his large hands, squeezing softly as he trails kisses along your cleavage, pulling away to whisper against your exposed skin.

“Such a brat.”

You grin. “You like it.”

“More than you know.”

Azriel finds the sensitive spot beneath your ear and presses open mouthed kisses along your neck all the way down to the column of your throat. You arch against him, displeased to find a barrier of fabric separating you.

You impatiently tug at the hem of his shirt and he smiles into your neck, murmuring softly.

“Whatever happened to not tainting my innocence in the middle of the night?”

“I’ve seen the chains in your bedroom, shadowsinger. You’re definitely not innocent.”

His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Those are for official spymaster business, but if you’re truly that interested, I can make an exception for you.”

With that, Azriel discards his shirt, giving you a full view of the swirling tattoos etched onto his golden brown skin. You trace the Illyrian markings, taking in the opportunity to admire his naked torso.

“Beautiful,” you breathe.

Azriel breaks out into a smile. Not a grin or a smirk, but a smile that made your heart ache. He was so beautiful it was almost unfair.

“I mean it, Azriel. I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

He kisses you, slow and sweet this time, as though he were savoring the moment. “Thank you,” he whispers tenderly. “I’d say the same about you, but beautiful seems like an understatement. You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen, sweetheart. I’ve thought so since the moment we met.”

You laughed, hiding the blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Don’t go all soft on me. You hated me.”

“I’ve never hated you,” he says softly. “You’re a pain in the ass and you constantly call me out on my bullshit, but I think that’s what I like most about you. You challenge me and I find your combative personality incredibly sexy. You had me wrapped around your finger the moment I laid eyes on you. I was completely, absolutely fucking done for.”

“I knew you secretly wanted me,” you jokingly interject.

“Didn’t think it was much of a secret. Cassian and Rhys knew this whole time. Mor too, which is probably why she chose to room with Amren tonight.”

If you thought about it, truly thought about it, all the signs were there. You were just too deep in denial to admit it to yourself because once you did, you wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that maybe you felt the same way about him too.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

Azriel brushed a strand of hair from your face, tilting your chin up. “Because, seeing you dance with Eris tonight made me realize that I couldn’t bear the sight of you with anyone else. I want to be the one that you dance with. I want to be the one that you argue with. I want to be the only one to make you smile the way that you’re smiling at me right now.”

“I’m not going to stop being a pain in the ass,” you say with a grin. “And I can’t promise that I won’t argue with you about stupid little things. Most of all, I’ll probably keep on being an annoying brat for the rest of my immortal existence.”

Azriel laughs. “You may be a brat, but you’re my brat.”

The butterflies in your stomach threatened to fly right into your heart. Gods, this male. One minute you were arguing and the next he was turning you into nothing but a mushy pile of a person.

"I want you," Azriel breathes. "And if tonight is all you're willing to give me, I'll take it. I'll take whatever I can get from you, but I'm done pretending like you don't completely consume my thoughts."

"I want you too, Azriel." You caress his cheek, tracing a sharp cheekbone with your thumb. "So fucking badly it hurts. Now that I've tasted you, I don't think I could ever give it up. What I’m saying is, I feel the same way about you too and I’d like to give this a try beyond just this night.”

"Good, because I'm pretty sure you've ruined every other female for me."

You shift in his lap, a grin breaking out on your face when you realize exactly what you were sitting on. “Is emotional intimacy turning you on, Azriel?”

“Fucking hell,” he swears. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Azriel grins. “For the record, I don’t expect you to stop being the ill tempered, foul mouthed female that I fell for in the first place. I’d rather fight with you than get along with anyone else.”

His lips ghost over yours. “The only thing this changes is that I now know the secret to shutting you up,” he sucks at the soft skin underneath your ear again, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck you,” you hiss playfully, practically melting into his lap.

Azriel grips your waist, grinding his erection into your backside. “If you insist, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, greedily licking the hollow of his throat as you roll your hips into him. Two could play that game. Azriel curses under his breath and you decide that it was your favorite sound in the entire realm.

He wasted no time in unfastening the clasp of your bra, releasing your breasts from the lacy constraints. Azriel gave you a wicked grin before pinching your nipple, taking your right breast into his mouth while you moaned loudly. Ever the equal opportunist, he gave your left breast matching attention, releasing each nipple with a popping sound that left your legs trembling.

The last remnants of hesitation faded away as Azriel flipped you on your back. You bounced against the mattress with an amused giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch the shadowsinger crawl towards you. Powerful wings spanned the entirety of his back while his shadows crowned him in darkness like some fallen angel. You knew then and there that this beautiful male would be your undoing.

As if reading your mind, Azriel grinned before pinning you underneath him. His fingers toy with the waistband of the skimpy lingerie, pausing for your permission. You shrug out of your panties and Azriel nearly tears them off in haste.

He spreads your legs open while his dark head disappears between your thighs. Azriel trails kisses on your skin, his hot breath fanning over your already soaking core.

“Fuck, so wet for me already. I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” Azriel licks a stripe of your needy core and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. “You taste even sweeter than you smell.”

His mouth was on you again, licking and sucking like he’d been starving for centuries and you were a feast spread out especially for him. When Azriel’s fingers plunged into you dripping wet cunt, it was almost too much to bear. He sucked at your clit and your back arched off the bed. Without warning, he plunged a second finger inside you while you tugged at his hair.

The moans coming out of your mouth didn’t even sound like you. They belonged to someone else, a needy, seductive side of you that no one had ever unleashed. You had no idea how Azriel learned how to do that with his tongue, but you prayed to the Mother that he wouldn’t stop.

It might’ve been minutes or hours since Azriel first started eating you out. You couldn’t keep track of anything else besides the Illyrian male between your legs. Never in your life has anyone made you come from their mouth alone, but there was a first time for everything.

The tension in your needy core unspooled and the warmth of an oncoming orgasm had you gasping for breath.

“Azriel,” you moaned loudly. “I’m so close.”

He plunged his fingers inside you once more, pressing down on your abdomen with his free hand while he curved his digits within your walls. The combination of his mouth on your clit and his fingers in your pussy had you chasing after that familiar high.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

At his words, you completely unraveled. Azriel watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his mouth dripping with your arousal. He licked up every drop before kissing you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you immediately wanted to return the favor.

As you reached for his boxers, Azriel gripped your wrist. “Another time. Tonight is about you, sweetheart. What do you want?”

“I want you,” you breathe. “All of you.”

His nose brushes against your cheek in a gentle, intimate manner. “Are you sure?”

You nod as his eyes meet yours. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks within his hazel irises. He grins as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“What did I say about using your words? I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, Azriel.”

Azriel kisses you, hungry and desperate as he positions himself over you. He tugs at the waistband of his boxers and mirrors your move from earlier, discarding the fabric over his shoulder. You laugh and he captures your lips once again, hiking your legs around his waist. Azriel moves slowly, filling you up with his length with careful consideration.

He searches your face as you wince, feeling him deep inside you. Deeper than you’ve ever taken. Your eyes water from the sheer size of him. His shadows wipe away your tears and you chuckle, nuzzling into the cold reprieve they provided. Azriel caresses your cheek, whispering encouragement into your ear.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Taking all of me,” he moves slowly. "That's it. Open your eyes. I want to watch you taking every inch of my cock."

Your eyes flutter open as his shadows twine through your wrists, binding them to the headboard behind you. Azriel gripped the wooden post, plunging himself deeper inside you until his hip bones touched yours. He releases a shaky breath, tendrils of inky night pulling your ankles around his waist. The shadows felt cold against your skin and your legs trembled as Azriel traced your lips with his thumb.

"Can I move?"

“Shit, fuck. Yes.”

Azriel chuckles. “Such a filthy mouth with a pretty little cunt.”

“I thought you liked my filthy fucking mouth -“

The air was knocked out of you as Azriel slammed his hips against yours, burying himself deep into your walls. If you ever had a doubt about the correlation between wingspan and dick size, it died at that moment. He plunged into you over and over again, his thrusts hitting the sweet spot with each fluid stroke. Pain and pleasure combined, you were seeing stars as Azriel continued his relentless pounding.

The slap of skin against skin filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. You clenched your walls around his member and Azriel groaned in response.

"You're so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels so good. Is your pretty little cunt all for me?" The dirty words flying out of his mouth made you blush uncharacteristically. He rutted into you, holding your hips in place while he watched you squirm in pleasure underneath him. "Can anyone else fuck you like this? Make you beg and whimper for my cock while you clench your pussy around me like the greedy little brat that you are?"

"N-no, only you. Only you could fuck me like this, Azriel."

He smirked, pumping in and out of you slowly. The action was painstakingly driving you insane and you bucked your hips to take in more of him, but Azriel tutted in response. "If you want it, you'll have to beg for it."

Fucking hell. You whined, desperate to feel him thrust in you again. "Please, Azriel. I want you. I need you to fuck me senseless."

Azriel kissed your neck, smiling. "Good girl."

With that, he plunged into you once more, filling you up to the hilt. His control slipped and his pace picked up, fucking you so deliciously that you couldn't even remember your own name. You wrapped your legs around his waist, fingers digging between his shoulder blades.

Beads of sweat kissed his golden brown skin from the effort, giving him the appearance of a dewy, glowy, dark angel. Azriel’s wings flared behind him and you ran your pointer finger over the sensitive membrane. The shadowsinger buckled above you, a deep moan ripping through his chest. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, nipping at your soft skin with his teeth.

“Az?” you ask shyly.

Azriel perked up, catching your gaze. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I ride you?”

His blown out pupils were swallowed by desire as he wordlessly flipped you over. Bracing yourself against his chest, you straddled Azriel and rocked against him slowly. Shadows wafted over you, snaking through your hips as they guided you to ride him in a steady rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated under his breath while you sank into him.

Azriel’s large hands cupped your ass, guiding you over his cock with a tight grip. The sight of him bucking desperately underneath you while a sheen of sweat coated his perfectly toned form made you smirk. His hands traveled up to your hips, fingertips briefly digging into your skin before softly cupping your breasts.

"You're so big. I love taking every inch of you. I'd never get tired of riding your perfect cock," you say as you grind into him, filling yourself up with the girth of his velvet wrapped steel.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says huskily.

You smirk in response, slamming your hips against his and taking him in even deeper. Azriel’s hand wraps around your neck, lightly squeezing as you ride him into oblivion. You took his scarred hand into yours and kissed his fingertips.

“Beautiful,” you repeated.

"So fucking perfect. I love watching you ride me. Feels so damn good," He sat upright, letting you roll your hips into him while his forehead pressed against yours. “Such a good girl,” Azriel hummed into your neck. "Is this pussy mine?"

"It's yours, Azriel. All yours."

Your movements were slow and languid as you melded together. From this angle, the curve of his member hit your cervix with perfect precision. You didn't even know sex could feel this good. Never had anyone else coax and tease and make you submit like he could. At this point, you couldn’t tell where Azriel began and you ended.

The grip around your neck tightened, cutting off your circulation at just the right amount to feel pleasurable. "Gonna come for me again, sweetheart?"

"I want you to come, too. I want to feel you filling me up."

“You fucking kill me when you say things like that. I'm so close, but I'm not coming until you do too. Can you do that for me?"

He swept the dark curtain of your hair over your shoulder, taking you in with tender eyes.

“Yes,” you rasp. “So fucking close.”

Azriel flips you over gently, his thrusts sloppy and waning as you both lose yourselves in each other. You moan his name so loudly that it would be a wonder if the whole palace didn’t hear. His fingers rubbed circles onto your sensitive clit and pushed you over the edge.

Just as waves of pleasure slammed into you, Azriel moaned your name into the night like a prayer. Together, you rode out the high as skin slapped against skin.

Azriel spurted into you, filling you to the brim with his orgasm. His lips found yours and pressed a gentle kiss against your mouth. The gesture was oddly intimate, more personal than the fact that he was currently balls deep inside of you. The act of coming together was entirely euphoric. For the second time that night, you found yourself seeing stars.

The shadowsinger pulled out of you slowly, taking great care not to disturb your extremely sensitive sex. Azriel rolled over in bed, your panting breaths the only sounds filling the room while you both recovered from the strenuous effort. Afterglow cast a shimmering haze over the both of you and you were content to bask in it while Azriel settled in beside you.

Despite the fact that he'd just given you two orgasms in a row and undoubtedly fucked you into next week, Azriel blushed as you turned over to examine him. Coming down from the high of the best sex of your life, you smiled at his bed hair and swollen lips. Azriel grinned shyly, resting his head on the pillow as he faced you.

“Fuck,” he said with a laugh. “That was…”

You nodded in response. “Fucking amazing? Remind me to thank Mor for rooming with Amren.”

Azriel smirked. “You can thank her in the morning. We’re gonna have an early start, so try and rest sweetheart.”

He pulled himself out of bed, eliciting a groan of protest from you. Azriel chuckled. “I’m just getting a towel to clean up. No need to be a brat,” he adds with a wink.

You stuck out your tongue, but watched in appreciation as Azriel’s naked form walked towards the restroom. He looked back at you, raising a brow at your blatant ogling.

As promised, Azriel cleaned you up with a warm towel. Since your negligee was nowhere to be found, he draped his own shirt over you and smiled at the sight of the fabric nearly swallowing you whole. Azriel pulled you into his arms and you rested your head on his chest like you belonged there all along. Despite the wind howling outside, you no longer felt its cold sting. The shadowsinger’s warmth and wings cocooned you in his safety.

You yawned. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel presses a kiss to your cheek, enveloping you into his arms. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The banging at the door is the first thing that greeted you the next morning. The second thing was Azriel’s sleeping form. The shadowsinger had an arm draped over your stomach, his naked chest rising and falling as he snored. You could’ve watched him all day if it weren’t for the repeated, aggressive knocks echoing throughout the room.

“Get your ass up, Az. You promised you’d train with me this morning.”

Azriel opened one eye, groaned, and pulled you closer to him. “If we ignore him, maybe he’ll go away,” he says in a gravelly morning voice that sounded so incredibly sexy that it nearly sent your heart into a cardiac arrest.

“This is Cassian we’re talking about. He once eavesdropped outside your door for a whole hour because he thought you had a female over.”

The pout on his lips was so adorable you wanted to kiss it off. Gods, what the hell was this male turning you into?

“Well, I do have a female over right now and I much prefer her company over training with my brother.”

Another bang. “I can hear you in there. I know you’re awake.”

You snorted. “I can get rid of him if you want.”

Azriel propped his head up in one hand, surveying you carefully. “As amazing as last night was, I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not ready for. If you want to wait to tell the others, I would completely understand.”

With the way Azriel was looking at you, it was almost like he was shyly asking you if you truly meant what you said last night. This soft, nervous side of him was entirely new to you, but you could already tell that you’d grow to like it.

“When have I ever done anything that I didn’t want to?” you ask with amusement. “It’s sweet, Az and I appreciate it, but this is our friends we’re talking about. They’re the biggest group of busybodies to ever grace this realm. Besides, I’m not one to keep secrets. I’m all in if you are.”

Azriel breaks out into a smile, genuine and tender, just for you. He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, especially if it’s you. I’m all in too, sweetheart.”

You grin. “Good, because I’m about to kick Cassian’s ass for waking us up so godsdamned early.”

The shadowsinger leans back, watching as you pad across the room. The cold air bites at your bare legs, but Azriel’s shirt kept the rest of your body warm. Swearing, you fling the door wide open while Cassian nearly stumbles over the threshold.

“What the hell do you want, Cas?”

“I- you -“ His gaze quickly scans over you. At his brother’s shirt covering your body. At Azriel’s dark head peeking out under the covers. The gears in his mind seemed to put the pieces together as he let out a hoot. “Fucking finally!”

He flags someone down in the hallway. Mor and Amren peek their heads into the room, a smile breaking out on both of your friend’s faces.

“You owe me twenty gold marks, boy,” Amren states.

“Well technically, Feyre’s guess was the most accurate,” Mor supplies.

As if summoned by her words, the High Lord and High Lady strolled past. Rhysand’s brows disappeared into his hair line as he took you in. Beside him, Feyre’s eyes widened before she dragged Nesta into the fold.

“I told you I was right.”

Nesta groaned, grumbling under her breath about losing twenty golden marks to her youngest sister.

“You guys bet on this?” you ask incredulously, half offended that your friends were this invested into your love life.

“Oh, please,” Nesta says with a roll of her eyes. “You two reeked of sexual tension. It was inevitable. The fact that it took you this long is the only surprising thing about this whole situation.”

“Kinda reminds me of us, Nes,” Cassian says with a grin.

Nesta shakes her head, but you clocked the fond smile on her face.

“Get a room, you two,” Rhys teases playfully.

“Save it, Rhys. You and my High Lady were just as unbearable during your honeymoon phase,” Mor shoots back.

You place a hand on your hip, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are we done having this fucked up little gathering?”

Azriel saunters up beside you, his tousled hair sticking up in a dozen different directions. Shadows twirl into your hair while he casually drapes an arm over your shoulder.

“Can we take a rain check, Cas? We’re a little busy.”

The Illyrian general’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he nods. “Of course, brother. You two look like you need the rest.”

Rolling your eyes, you shot Cassian a vulgar gesture. The rest of your friends snickered, attempting to hide their beaming smiles at the sight of you and Azriel side by side. You simply shut the door on your nosy friends, knowing that they would undoubtedly hound you for details later.

As you turned around, Azriel pressed your back into the door, taking you completely off guard as he kissed you hungrily. You kissed back with fervent passion, smiling against his mouth while he hoisted you in the air. Wrapping your legs around his midsection, Azriel kept a steady grip on your waist while he peppered kisses onto your cheeks.

"What was that for?"

Azriel shrugs. "Just saying good morning."

You chuckled, tangling your arms behind his neck and kissing him once more. "Good morning."

Azriel responds by lifting you in his arms bridal style as though you weighed nothing. He discarded you into the bed with ease, pinning him underneath you once more. You giggle, kissing the tip of his nose and reveling in the peace and quiet. It was ironic to think that mere hours ago, Azriel was complaining about sharing this exact room with you.

Now, he kissed you deeply, awakening every nerve in your body. With his body pressed flush against yours, Azriel smiled.

“Now where were we, sweetheart?”

tags: @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @gxdsmonsters @ofelia-writesxox @harmeetk @chickmeowt @bankerfrog @ktmylady

#hey hi hello i'm sweating are you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel acotar #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #acotar #acomaf #acosf #sjm #azriel fanfiction #masterlist #jess writes

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Note

Will Joel and Mama have another kid in the Unexpected universe? 👀👀

well... since everyone's asking...

An Unexpected Addition

dad!joel x f!reader

joel masterlist

warnings | 18+ smut-adjacent, fluffy nonsense, joel gets dunked on by his family but that's nothing new

a/n | unexpected universe, my darling, i will always love writing for you

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

“You know Joel’s gonna say no, right?”

“He won’t if you say yes.”

“Ellie.” The girl huffs, her eyes widening in a silent plea that quickly turns vocal.

“Oh c’mon. Look at this face! How could you say no to this face?” At that, Ellie holds up the squirming puppy until she’s nose to nose with him. She has to admit, he is a sweet little thing. The runt of a new litter, which Ellie had explained could not be trained up like the rest of the pack for guard duties due to his size.

“I had to take him. No one else wanted him! Please, will you please talk to Joel? He’s not gonna say no to you.” She sighs, already feeling herself crumbling at her girl’s pleading.

“Alright, I’ll talk to him–” Ellie gasps, a bright grin across her face, but she’s not done talking.

“But, if we keep this dog, he’s gonna be your responsibility, alright? You’ve gotta feed him, and walk him, and train him up a little. I don’t wanna hear any complaints– he’s gonna be your dog, Ellie bean.” Ellie nods emphatically at that, holding the puppy a little closer in her arms.

“Yes ma’am. You got it! Do you think the old man would be pissed if I named him Joel junior?”

Lord help them all.

…

Later that night, after getting Libby to sleep, she slips into their bedroom to find Joel already propped up in bed, reading an old paperback. Ellie had kept the puppy out in the garage the rest of the afternoon, promising to keep it under wraps until she talked to Joel.

Here goes nothing.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t even look up, obviously preoccupied with whatever he’s reading. She can’t help the huff she lets out, realizing that she’s going to have to be a whole lot less subtle about this. She pads over to the bed, getting onto the mattress on all fours as she crawls over to her man. Still nothing.

“Joel?” His eyes barely glance away from his book to her, before settling back on the page he’s on.

“I’m listening, honey. What is it?” He is most definitely not listening with the way he’s squinting at his book, lips parted in a silent mouthing of what he’s reading. She’s going to have to resort to drastic measures.

“Hey, I was reading that! What’re you–” He cuts himself off, mouth agape as in one fell swoop she plucks the book out of his hands, tossing it aside and straddling his lap, her palms splaying out over his chest.

“I need to talk to you about something, baby.” Got him. His eyes are wide, broad palms reflexively going to the meat of her thighs, fingers squeezing lightly as he wets his lips.

“What is it, mama?” Her lips crook in a grin, hands trailing up to thread through his hair in the way she knows gets him good and stupid for her. His eyes practically roll back in his head when she tugs lightly at his waves.

“How would you feel about a new addition to the family?” He refocuses on her at that, eyes widening and fingers flexing in their grasp on her.

“A new– to the family?” She smiles, nodding.

“Mmhmm. What do you think about–” Before she can get the rest of her question out, he moves with uncharacteristic speed, flipping them over so she’s laid out underneath him, his hips slotted with hers. He lands a series of sloppy kisses to her lips, leaving her no room to speak as he licks into her mouth. When he finally pulls away, he’s got the biggest grin on his face.

“I know I said all that shit when I was drunk– but damn, I’ve been thinking about it. About you. So pretty, and soft, and round. Look so beautiful carrying my child, darlin. Can’t help but think about giving you another one.” Oh fuck, not this again. When he dips down to give her another kiss, she holds him back by his shoulders, scrunching her face up at him.

“Wait, what? That is not what I’m talking about.” His face goes slack.

“It– it’s not?”

“Jesus Christ, Joel, no. I was gonna ask you if it’d be ok if–” Once again, she gets cut off, but this time by the sound of a yipping bark coming from downstairs. Joel’s head whips around, sitting back on his haunches.

“What the fuck was that?” Another round of barks resounds through the house, loud enough to set Libby off crying across the hall. Joel’s already up, bounding down the stairs as she darts into the nursery to grab their crying girl before following him down.

The scene she finds is something else.

“What is that?” Joel has one hand on his head, the other gesturing vigorously to the puppy that is currently massacring one of their couch cushions. Ellie puts on her best smile, stepping between Joel and the sight of the dog.

“That is JJ. Short for Joel junior.” She tentatively steps beside Joel, Libby on her hip now consoled by the sight of the little furball. He turns to her, eyebrows raised.

“That’s the new addition you were trying to tell me about?” All she can do is smile and shrug. Ellie scoops the dog– JJ– up off the couch, finally getting him to stop attacking the now shredded couch cushion. Joel scoffs.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Ellie blanches at that, shuffling over to Joel and hoisting JJ up to him.

“Please, old man. He’ll be my responsibility, I swear! He can stay in the garage with me– and you won’t have to hardly ever see him!” Joel grumbles, getting ready to voice his protest, but just then, Libby lets out a shriek of laughter.

“Doggy, mama. Look!” Her girl points at JJ in Ellie’s arms, giggling again at the squirming puppy. She glances at Joel, seeing that his face has practically melted as he watches Libby. She smiles down at her girl.

“That’s right, baby, it’s a doggy. You wanna pet him?” Libby nods her head enthusiastically, and Ellie grins as she steps over to them, holding JJ up to let Libby tentatively pat his head. When he licks her little palm, she lets out another peel of laughter.

She and Ellie glance at Joel as Libby continues to pet JJ. His face has gone completely slack at the sight, arms hanging loosely at his sides. She can’t help the laugh she lets out looking at him.

“You did say you wanted a little more testosterone in the house.” He sighs.

“Alright, fine. But that dog stays out of the main house, I don’t want him tearing up the place. And you gotta teach him some manners. You understand?” Ellie grins, nodding emphatically.

“Understood. Thanks, old man. Welcome to the family, Joel junior.”

“Kid, please don’t call him that.”

“What? That’s his name.”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller blurb #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #unexpected expectings

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reidsqlick · 4 months

Text

That Damn Book. || (S.R)

pairing: Spencer!Reid x GN!reader

summary: You’re Garcias friend, and she had lent you a book mere weeks ago, not aware of her intentions for this just yet, you were soon to find out..

warning(s?): Swearing. No clue if that’s actually classified as a warning, but if it is, there we go..

Penelope Garcia. A hardworking, smart, sickeningly sweet woman. A woman you were more than happy to call your friend, nay, your best friend. You and Penelope had met, and instantly bonded over your shared fascination for cats.

Penelope Garcia was your dearest friend. Something else that you found out about her almost immediately was that she works for the FBI, and is a part of the BAU, aka ‘The Behavioral Analysis Unit’. She’s their Tech Analyst, and you’d be surprised, even though she has to go through seeing all of the absolutely gruesome things on those screens, she’s always walking around with her sweet, sweet smile.

That’s another thing that drew you to her even more. Being able to do the things she does, and still walk around with a smile? It’s absolutely bewildering, not even you can, and you work with animals. Soft, cuddly animals. Not even you can go around smiling like that, but her? She does it so swiftly, with such glee. It’s absolutely fascinating.

About two and a half weeks ago Penelope had lent you a book. Normally, you would’ve already read the book, since she’s always trying to find new books for you to read every now and then, but you’ve already read them. This time, although. You haven’t even seen this book before. This was all new to you, Garcia giving you a book you haven’t read was very, and I mean, very rare.

Usually she picks up really well known classics. Or, well- in your opinion they’re classics. Books like “The Fisher King”, and “The Collector”. Books you grew up to love, as your father apparently had owned a bookstore before he had passed. He passed a month before your birth, and you felt the need to read every book on that man’s bookshelf. You barely got halfway, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that you’ve read many good, classic books in your lifetime. Yet, you haven’t even read this one. She seemed more than excited when she had found out that you hadn’t read it before. “What!? You’re serious? I- now you gotta read the book!!!” She was more than just happy to give this to you, even though it seemed like it was her favorite book by the way she had acted over this topic.

Then again, this surprised you. Garcia definitely was just picking books before, classics. One’s displayed as classics in your local bookstore, but this, this one was different. This one seemed like it had come from a reader, like it wasn’t Garcia at all. But, after all, she is your best friend! Might as well just give it a read, what harm will it do you anyway?

A week had passed, you’d been swamped with work, and with your personal life, but also you’d been swamped with this book. Lord, has it taken up your time. Well, as much free time as you had, and if you’re being honest, you hadn’t had much of any.

This book would’ve been done by now, and added to your bookshelf, it was a short book, only a hundred and thirty-eight pages in length. On the shorter side, but- work had been kicking your ass, so it’s not you to blame, but your boss.

Eventually, the long week had come to a halting, crashing, very tiring end. You’d finally gotten a day off, and this was finally the time you could sit down and read this book that you’d just been longing to read for the entirety of the week. You had been in comfy clothes, reclining on the couch. Your face finally in this very beautifully written book, until you were sorely interrupted by a knock at your apartment door.

You groaned, saved your place in the book, and gotten up off of your couch, walking over to the door to see who could possibly show up at your apartment at 9 o ‘clock on a Saturday night. You peeped through the teeny, tiny peephole of your apartment door to see Garcia standing there eagerly, with a great big Garcia smile plastered on her face.

You sigh softly, and opened the door. Garcia stood there in a bright pink dress with an enormous smile on her face, although the moment she saw you, she frowned, “Honey!! Why aren’t you dressed up? It’s a Saturday!!” She had looked genuinely distraught. “Hm? Oh, today’s my day off,” I said softly “this is the one day I figured I could get to actually reading this book you had lent me!” I said with a smile.

The frown hadn’t left her face, “No, hun. You’re getting ready , cmon. Me and my coworkers are going out for drinks tonight!! You’re not going to stay in on a Saturday, nope, nada. Not on my watch. Cmon, get ready!! We’ve gotta be there in twenty minutes. Chip chop!!”

Twenty minutes!? Never mind twenty minutes, her coworkers? You haven’t met her coworkers in your almost two years of friendship. Usually you would care, you’d have a grudge. But it was Penelope, she works for the FBI. Of course there’s a reason behind her not wanting you to meet her friends, of course there was.

You couldn’t have just gone all these years cause she thought they wouldn’t like you, no, of course not. It’s cause of her job description. She’s a straightforward type of gal. Work stays at work, home stays at home. You never had issues with that, until now.

Now you’re thinking about it, you can stop thinking about it and you have to get ready!? Shit. You don’t own anything business casual, yes it’s drinks, but you’re also meeting your best friend in the whole world’s coworkers. Oh my god. You’re pacing nervously, but just end up going with jeans, a t shirt and a hoodie.

It’s cold in Virginia in this type of weather, or course. You don’t bother to do anything with your makeup, as you only own mascara, but you brush through your hair, spray on perfume, and walk out of your bedroom door. That’s when she shrieked.

She was in disbelief almost, “What!? Jeans and a T shirt? Y/n, I mean... You can pull it off better than anyone I’ve ever seen try to. Eh, it’s good enough!!! Cmon let’s go, get your shoes on cmon!!” She was absolutely ecstatic. For more than one reason, too. She was more than happy to go out and see her coworkers, but also happy for them to finally meet you, as she’s always talking about you

She eventually drags you out of your apartment and into her car, and drives you both to the bar that her coworkers were meeting. You had gotten out of the car, and grabbed your bag. Why bring your bag? Don’t you only need your phone!? Yeah. Usually, you’d only bring your phone, but you’re definitely not overly social, you’re in your mid twenties, you had to bring that book. This isn’t really your thing.

You walked with Garcia into the bar, and she gravitated towards the smallish group in the back, there was about five of them sitting at a larger table, the minute they had seen Garcia, they all waved, inviting her over to the table.

Then for just a second you forgot you were with her. “Okay, guys!! This is my friend who I’ve been telling you guys about for what is it, two years now? Yeah! Two years,” she smiled “their names y/n,” she pointed at you, and then the team “y/n, team, team, y/n!!”

They all had waved, and smiled at you, they all introduced themselves to you. Their names were Morgan, which you already had known who he was, Garcia always talks about her team, but him mostly. There was also Rossi, Hotchner, Prentiss, and JJ. They were all very kind, and welcoming. More welcoming than you would’ve thought.

Something was off, though. She said including her, the team was seven members, and you had only met seven. You shrugged it off until you had seen a taller, lengthy man in a cardigan roll out of the bathroom and walk over to the teams table. Garcia smirked, “Oh! Yes, y/n this is boy genius, Reid. Reid, this is Y/n.”

He then smiled, “Ah. Yes, the infamous Y/n. Nice to meet you, Y/n, as Garcia already had stated I’m Reid, Doctor Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid.” He had smiled, obviously proud of the amount of PhD’s he’d received . You had reached your hand out to shake his, as a friendly gesture.

He has immediately shrieked when you tried to reach for his hand, “Yeah, sorry I don’t shake hands. The amount of pathogens shared in a handshake is more than shared in a kiss, so- I’m not all for handshakes, sorry.” You smiled, turning a light pink.

“Oh, that’s my bad. Well, as Penelope had told you, and apparently the rest of the team, I’m Y/n. Y/n Y/ln. Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” You said with a smile. He had then nodded and then schooched his way into the booth, as had you. You were seated next to Penelope.

She had smiled and then whispered something to you, “He’s a germaphobe. Don’t worry too much about the man. He’s all smarts, no risk of infection.” She chuckled, and so did you. He seemed nice, though, and so did the rest of the team. They truly seemed like sweet people.

An hour or so had passed, and the team were all talking to each other while you had told Penelope you went to get a drink, you just needed to get fresh air from the new people. Not that the team was bad, no. They were sweet as can be. Just, people aren’t the thing you’re best at.

You were sat at the bar, reading the book your dear friend had lent you just mere weeks ago, it’s not normal for a book this short to last you this long, if you’re being honest. You were so deep into the book, you didn’t quite really feel or hear much going on around you, until you were snapped out of it, someone had tapped you on the shoulder.

You immediately had turned around, surprised. To your shock it was the one, and only ‘Doctor Spencer Reid’. “Good book.” he had said, just two mere words. “Hm?” you had said, confused, wondering why he’d come over here to comment on the book you were trying to read. “Oh, I was just saying. Lovely book, is it not?” you nodded. “First time read?” you nodded again, “Classic.”, you’d looked at him like he had two heads.

“Classic- Like it’s a classic, you know? It’s quite the good book, if you weren’t reading it as of now, I would’ve recommended it to you if I had known you were a reader, yourself.” he said, now sitting next to you. “Oh, yeah. It’s pretty good.” you smiled. “Why’d you decide to read it? I, personally just really like books so I read about every piece of literature I can get my hands on-“ you cut him off, pointing in the general direction of Penelope.

He cocked his head to the side, confused. “Garcia? Penelope Garcia? Recommending ‘The narrative of John Smith’? There’s no way-“ you shrugged, “She’s always giving me books, she does it, and often. Usually, I’ve read the book, but this time I hadn’t.” he nodded, and then asked a rather odd question. “When did she… recommend it to you?”

It was silent for a moment, until you had finally remembered the answer to his question just seconds later. “About.. a little over a week I’d say. Why?” he sighed. “I showed it to her a week ago. She’s always asking what I’m reading- so I show her.” your eyes widened. “You!? This is why she recommends me books? You’re serious?”

He shrugged. “I’m almost certain it’s me. I’m a reader, and by the way you act when you’re in the general vicinity of a book, so are you.” you nodded in agreement, “Yeah, but, but, why? I mean what’s the reasoning? She could look up classic books. Why do they have to come from you?”

If he was honest, he didn’t know. He had a general idea, but you didn’t. He didn’t want to weird you out when you barely even knew the man. Although, he did feel as though he should mention his thoughts to you, as it could lead to more insight on this topic. “I think I just may know why she’s doing this. Don’t you?” you shook your head no.

He sighed. “She’s setting us up. I’m almost certain. You’ve seen her do it with other people, right?” you nodded, smiling, “Yeah! Yeah,” you chuckled “she’s been doing it with others for as long as I can remember, just never with me. She knows I’ll be upset if she even were to try to set something like this up. Why would she do this all of a sudden?”

“All of a sudden?” Reid asks, you nod. “No, no” he says “not ‘all of a sudden’ she’s been giving you recommendations for what, months?” you nod again. “Sounds like her,” you say in a lower tone “can’t even be mad, though.” you add.

He looks at you like you’ve got two heads. “Can’t even be mad? You just went on about how you’ve warned the woman if she’d try to set you up. Why the sudden change, Y/n?” you chuckle, smiling softly.

“I don’t know, boy genius. Wanna tell me?”

A/N: spoilers for later seasons: anyways ignore the fact that this is the book that maeve gave reid…. UHHHH. no, but i suck at writing leaving that at that.

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missglaskin · 1 year

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Yan!Aemond Targaryen and yan!Aegon II (Seperate) with aunt!darling (Hightower)

Note-To be exclusive, the reader is not stated to be adopted or not.

Tags: Some explicit/smut, somnophilia, some delusional, perverted behavior, clinginess, forced marriage, dark elements

Prologue:

All your life you have been compared to your older sister. She married the king. Became the queen of the seven kingdoms. Birthed him many heirs. And what have you done in your life? A nose buried in a book and a head filled with stories.

The court believed you to be naïve and innocent. Your father ignored you. What a disappointment you are. Your brothers couldn’t understand you. You spoke a language yet not known to them. Your sister had no time for you. As your father says, she’s busy fulfilling her supposed duties.

All paid no mind to you. All except your sister’s sons.

Aemond

As much as Aemond loved his mother and went to her at times. He felt far more comfortable with you. Perhaps it was because you were much closer to his age. Or because you truly understood his feelings. And you taking his side during that incident with Rhaenyra’s sons made him adore you even further.

Aemond realized his feelings were deeper than he assumed. His fondness for you was well known around the court. At the same court, many lords eager to ally themselves with the house Targaryen offered their daughters. Even ambitious ladies have made their efforts. The one-eyed prince was still not persuaded. For his eye caught the sight of another, his sweet aunt.

You suspected nothing from Aemond. He was a perfect gentleman through and through. But then again, you are blind to it. The intense eye that watches your every move. That roams any exposed skin it can find. Whether it’s through the sheer fabric of your nightgown when your nephew welcomes himself into your chambers to bid you ‘good night’.

Often you’re judged for spending most of your time in the library, eyes hardly straying away from the pages. But Aemond never did. Even being the reason, he has a passion for it. He’s found near you, also picking a book of his own. Sometimes, you can't help but rant endlessly on what you’ve read. Where you are met with sighs and a roll of eyes, it’s never like that with him. Aemond’s eye hardly blinks as he listens to your every word. In truth, he finds your voice to be smoothing, almost like a lullaby.

Aemond’s desire is one of a burning flame. There’s no smothering or dowsing the flames. It just rises and rises. He wants to send the fire burning in you. From your heart to your core. His patience wears thin every day. His touches and attempts become more desperate. Daring to have you lean on him, to caress your cheeks, to trail your body. He finally reaches his end when overhearing his grandfather speak of his plans.

His jaw and fist clench at the revelation of the plans. To wed you off to some lord. You were his. Body and soul, you are his. There was the temptation to fly off on Vhagar and offer the head of the lord at his grandfather’s feet. But he had other plans. Sneaking into your chambers, offering you a stroll in the city. Trusting him as you always do, you agree, hands in his.

The building you enter seems familiar with its structure and symbols. There is confusion when seeing the Sept. Realizing what this is. And for the first time, you have seen it unleashed. All his desire, lust, furiousness. The ugly side of him that he for so long kept hidden. All of it just came to the surface and for the first time, you feared Aemond. Discovering that even all those years, you have never truly known him.

Not seconds after the vows are exchanged, Aemond who insists you call him ‘husband’. Consummates the marriage still in the holy place. Finding yourself ashamed at the moans that echo the building as his tongue dives into your pussy. Feelings of pleasure overtaking you. Soon he joins you, groans and grunts heard as his cock slides into you. Not long after, his hot cum floods your inner walls. With shaky legs and his seed dripping down your thighs. Aemond brings you to his chambers, where the servants find you the morning after, running to inform the queen.

Aegon II

In his teenage years, your nephew was quite attached to you. Always running to you at the slightest trouble. His mother was ‘mean’ to him. His father ignored him. His grandfather scolded him again. Every time you took him in your arms. Knowing the feeling of being the ‘disappointment’ all too well. You knew how to comfort him-the right words to say. But as Aegon got older, his clinginess never withered, instead, it grew with each intensity.

You haven’t noticed it. The way he looks at you. His lingering and ‘accidental’ touches. It’s as if Aegon wants to see how much he can get away. He pecks your cheeks. A sweet gesture. But is it when his lips brush against yours. Claiming you moved your head, and that’s why it occurred. Then it happened again and again. But Aegon assures you it’s just a friendly kiss. What nephew would have such intentions with his sweet aunt.

Aegon rarely knocks when coming into your room. Many times he walked on you undressing. Aegon pretends to turn his back to you, but you caught him staring more than once. There’s also no privacy when it comes to taking a bath. He doesn’t excuse himself, sitting right next to you so he can ‘speak’ with you. All while your hands are on your body to shield yourself from his prying eyes.

You are sweet. A sweet wine. Sweeter than the Dornish and arbor gold. He dreams of tasting you. To drink you in like a starved man. And most of all, he dreams of fucking you. It consumes his every thought. But in all his mad, driven lust, Aegon loves you. A smile like yours pumps his blood so quickly that he feels his heart pounding violently against his chest.

Most men when visiting brothels demand the same thing; a young, beautiful girl to satisfy their needs. But Aegon demands an older woman and a certain appearance. But they sound nothing like you and he more so, hates it when they mention their name. After he’s done fucking them, Aegon wants to be held, to have fingers running through his hair and to hear whispers of sweet praises. Only for his fantasy to be ‘ruined’ once more.

Every visit leaves him more and more unfulfilled. And it leaves him desiring you more and more. He felt the universe was truly against him. His half-sister has gotten her wishes and married her uncle, and what was he left with. A sister who only spoke in riddles. He wanted you. No, he needed you. So one can imagine the fury that came when you informed him of your proposal to lord Lannister. Any restraint. Any inch of morality within him. Gone.

At night where a full moon appears in the sky. You are awaken. Thighs twitching. Feeling pinned to the bed, a weight pressing down on you. Needy whines reaching your ears. Aegon's eyes greet you when they open, a dark lust swirling in them. Faint moans involuntarily slip from your lips. You try to voice how wrong this is, the horror of it. But your body melts under him. The deeper he goes, the more your walls flex around him.

You were wrecked with guilt. Not because you give yourself to him. But because you enjoyed it. You wanted more of it. That night, you found yourself unable to sleep all while Aegon slept soundly, clutching you tightly. Silently, you prayed your sister wouldn’t discover this shameful incident. But Aegon, your once sweet nephew, proved to be cruel. When he presented her and your father with the ruined sheets.

#yandere hotd #yandere x reader #yandere house of the dragon #yandere asoiaf #yandere headcanons #hotd x reader #hotd smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #asoiaf x reader #headcanons #smut headcanons #smut #x reader #reader insert

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 months

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Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Dante's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Dante's Path

Pairing: Dante x Reader Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all. Author's Notes: Fucking. Finally. It took forever, but here I have around 20 pages of a demon wanting to marry the reader and Dante going feral over it. Took me ALL THIS TIME to write and I do apologize, but SO MUCH has happened since October, I'm finally managing to get my life back on track. So heeeeeey, here we have Dante's part of the Halloween Special for 2023! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand the road so far yes Supernatural fan right here and have fun!! But I do have to thank @furyeclipse - the idea came from an ask sent a thousand years ago and I've been reading her works on ao3 and that motivated™ me to write again! Be sure to check Fury's work over there!

Oh. And I highly recommend an AC/DC playlist while reading this. Just sayin'. We all know Dante is an AC/DC guy

Devil May Halloween 2023 – Dante’s Path

“You know, of all the things that could have happened to me as a hunter, getting into a forced marriage with a demon lord was the very last one I would’ve imagined.”

And you were definitely the only person in the world that could have made Kyrie laugh in a moment like that – at least, that was what she thought as she smiled for the first time since you both had stepped in that place.

It was desecrated ground, that was the reason why the demons chose such a place. An old cathedral, now turned into an abandoned set of ruins with a cemetery of forgotten souls in the back. Some stone walls still stood tall, but the roof was gone, along with some windows and part of its gothic architecture. The shroud of the darkest tones of night slowly crept over, having rows and sets of candles of all sizes as the only source of light beside the moon.

You and Kyrie were being kept in a secured room – the only with still four walls to hold you in, and a heavy set of crumbling wooden doors. You were handed wedding attires – white, as to demonstrate the purity of your human souls compared to demons – and shoved in there, forced to change before the ritual.

You tried to resist, but as soon as they threatened Kyrie, you had to abide. There was nothing you could do: you had promised Nero nothing would happen to her, and she was your weak spot that night.

“We will figure something out…” Kyrie murmured with a ghost of a smile on her soft lips, even if she didn’t carry too much hope in her heart. She knew that if you were alone, you would probably be fist-fighting demons with all your might to drag yourself out of that place, but with her by your side… She had never seen you so compliant.

“Hmmm. Yeah. I’m still trying to think of something.” You huffed, sitting by her side on a stone loveseat, having your elbows on your knees and your face cradled by your hands. “I feel naked without my stuff. So uncomfortable.”

Once again, Kyrie giggled. Indeed, it was probably the first time she ever saw you without your everyday clothes and specially without your weapons: be it your guns, your sword or even a pocketknife you carried around for emergency self-defense. She could only imagine how stripped you felt at that moment.

“Well, if it serves as consolation, this is definitely not my style.” She whispered in response, making you laugh immediately. Indeed, poor Kyrie looked like a princess covered in Chantilly. Too over-the-top for her, and you could say the same about your forced attire.

“Oh, what a mess we got ourselves into this time, huh…?” You still had that laugh in your lips, making Kyrie respond with a sad smile. “Though I bet Nero is going to die seeing you dressed as a bride.”

“He will never admit it.” Kyrie had to giggle with that mental image. She could almost see Nero standing in front of her, red as a tomato, stuttering while trying to maintain that nonchalant punk attitude he always tried to – even if Kyrie could easily see through all of that. “He does get all flustered whenever I’m wearing anything slightly bridal looking.”

“There you go. The hideous Chantilly wedding dress will have at least one good effect after all.” You sighed with a laugh, following Kyrie on her giggles as she blushed herself, happy to imagine that.

The moment wouldn’t last long, though, as you felt something shifting in the air. You immediately got up on your feet, keeping Kyrie safe and sound behind you. Her curious, scared eyes tried to pick up what was going on, but neither of you could see – you could just feel it.

With some fiery sparkles, one of the demons responsible for that mess materialized right in front of you.

“Well, well. It is good to see you are already prepared.” Horns and sharp features, but in the suit of a ruthless man – that was the best way you could describe the demon lords. They had the leathery wings, skin as rough as that of a lizard, eyes bright like flames in the dark – but something still carried the resemblance of a human being. They were tall – even taller than most doors – with sharp nails to be used as claws, fangs ready to tear throats apart. But they were built in the image of humans: something quite rare when it came to demons.

“Not out of our own free will – you shouldn’t be that pleased your minions managed to coerce us into these horrid things.” You pointed at your own attire, making Kyrie look up at you with tense eyes.

It was something she admired, to say the least. You could all look in the face of the most threatening of creatures and still manage to say something to taunt or belittle them. She wished she had that kind of courage.

“You do have a point, human.” The demon had a quick giggle in his voice, making you furrow your eyebrows slightly. It wasn’t every day one of those things would agree with your big mouth. “Come. I would very much like to speak with you.”

Oh. Demons and their teleportation shenanigans – to be quite honest, you hated it. Whenever you used any of their magic or even Vergil’s void thing from the Yamato, you always felt a little dizzy afterwards. It took you some quick seconds to make sense you were in what seemed to be the abandoned church’s library – in a room made of stones and rotten books, lit by decrepit candles and having just one usable table in a corner. The demon lords had clearly made that their own room for the day.

“It’s rare a demon wishes to talk.” You finally managed to say while the demon lord slowly walked towards his desk, having you in the middle of the room. Now Kyrie was alone and you had no idea what was going on with her – you had to play your cards well to see her alive again. “According to my experience, your kind prefers a bloodier approach.”

“I take it you haven’t met many demon lords then.” He had a nonchalant tone, waving his hand in disregard as he approached his desk and leaned into it, staring at you. “Nevertheless, that is more Orcus’ style.”

“Your little friend.”

“Al Pacino did play the devil once, didn’t he…?” The demon laughed in response and you did your best to cover up the shock that he understood your Scarface reference.

Movies and pop culture references with Dante were a given – the same way Vergil was an encyclopedia of forgotten and obscure texts, Dante was the go-to man when it came to movies, especially the classic ones. Making references and laughing with each other was something both of you cherished wholeheartedly – and you never thought a demon would get it.

Vergil never did – and he had to have spent some time with those guys in the last decades.

“Well, I don’t think you brought me down here just to talk about movies.” You crossed your arms, trying as much as you could to look tough in that attire. Which wasn’t going very well for you. “And it certainly wasn’t to properly ask for my hand in marriage.”

“Oh, no, no…” He answered with a laugh that crackled like fire – and you could easily see the amusement in his eyes. “I wanted to see what the son of Sparda saw in you… To bind himself to one of the weakest creatures known. Just like his father before him.”

“It’s not like Dante has married me, you know? We’re not like Eva and Sparda.” You raised one of your eyebrows. Something about that conversation was very… Weird. To put it mildly. “We’re not bonded like you want to do today. And on that note, I have to point out: marriages are quite religious. Aren’t you guys going to combust spontaneously trying to do something holy?”

“Oh, but you are bonded. He may not have chosen his father’s path, but his heart does not lie.” The demon had something quite mischievous in his eyes, and you were starting to notice the difference between him and Orcus: the second one was more of a brute, a lord of war so to speak – the one you were talking to, Erlach, was very cunning; but there was a glint of bloodthirstiness in the back of his eyes. That made him even more dangerous than you gave him credit for at first. “I shall never understand why Sparda did not wish to follow the ritual with his human. That would have made him so powerful, not even the most dangerous creatures in Hell would have dared to slaughter his family. A shame really.” He tossed aside a charred painting of Sparda and Eva: old, barely holding itself together, but still clearly depicting the couple holding hands and smiling to whoever decided to look upon them. “We do have our own rituals – and demons are no strangers to marriages. It has another name in Hell, though, it is a binding ritual: where souls connect and one can be made more from the other’s power.”

“Oh. So the other just accepts it’s going to be a puny little thing beside their partner? Sounds more like slavery to me.” You wouldn’t give the demon the benefit of the doubt nor make it all sound so wonderful. Anything related to devils always had a catch – and that had to be the catch to their own twisted version of a ‘marriage’.

And in all honesty, you weren’t looking forward to be made a slave to a demon lord.

“Some creatures enjoy that.” And the smile that covered Erlach’s lips could be only considered devilish. You did your best not to look like you were agreeing – even if you knew, deep down, that yes, some people did enjoy that. “Every con has its pro. With the binding and forfeit of power, comes protection and status. Few would want to desecrate the partner of a powerful demon – it could easily be the last thing they would do.”

“if I am bonded to Dante, then, I wonder why would someone like you decide to mess with the chosen partner of the son of Sparda.” Now you had a small smile hidden in the corner of your lips, slightly raising your head in hubris. You wouldn’t lie: the status you got from him among demons was always very welcome. “Not that I really need him to help me. If I had my weapons, you would all be laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood – and I’d be home celebrating Halloween with him.”

Erlach stared into your eyes for a good four seconds before opening a threatening smile with his sharp fangs. His own eyes burned like fire, but you never let his gaze go – it wasn’t in you to be scared by the likes of him. You had seen worse, you had fought worse… And only you knew how threatening Dante’s eyes could look when he was half asleep in a nightmare of his young years with you trying to wake him up so he could have some peace. That was worse than any demon you could ever face.

“Indeed, that is why I needed some leverage against you.” He waved his hand nonchalantly towards the door and you immediately understood he was talking about Kyrie. “It was never my intention to allow Orcus to bond to some creature as powerful as mine… But I did not knew the extent of your powers, so I needed something to keep you in line. Luckily, Sparda’s grandson is not as attuned to powerful partners as Sparda’s children.”

You furrowed your brows. Whenever you talked between the members of the crew, there was a tacit agreement Kyrie was indeed the most powerful of all – for her ability to love openly, to cry, to be vulnerable and to care with such an open heart.

But those abilities were inherently human – and appreciated in humans rather than demons. In the human point of view, Kyrie was stronger than all of you together, and no one could argue against that. But in the demonic point of view… You and Lady were top of the list when it came to being able to take demons in a fair fight.

But you… You had Dante’s heart.

“It was part of our bargain. But I would never allow Orcus to bind to the most powerful of partners, would I?” Again, that smile painted his lips. You remained in the middle of the room, holding his gaze, not even flinching as he approached you. “I must admit, though, I never thought you would have this… Fire.”

As Erlach stopped with a few inches from your own face, you didn’t recoil. You remained with your arms crossed, standing as tall as you could in front of that huge demon lord as his fiery eyes just stared deeply into yours – and you stared back.

But you sensed something… Different. In his words, in his gaze. You wanted to furrow your brows as you were slowly coming to realize something, but you did your best to remain as proud and emotionless as you could – and Erlach took note of that. A pleasurable note.

“I can see what the son of Sparda saw in you.” That devilish smile colored his lips once more as the demon took another step towards you. It took you a great amount of willpower not to step back. You would never step back. “When demons bind with demons, it is one sort of marriage. When demons bind with humans, on Samhein, with the correct ritual… Well, it is a very different thing. A kind of binding never seen before – and never attempted, not even by Sparda.” Erlach approached with another step, making you raise your head even higher. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream Dante’s name and watch your red devil storm inside that room and suplex Erlach face first on the floor – as he deserved. The demon lord, though, offered one hand to you, palm facing up. “At first, I targeted you for Dante would not take a weakling as a partner, but now… I am more than inclined to take you as mine. With me, you would have the protection and status of royalty in Hell. We can take over entire worlds. And they would all be mine and yours to rule.” You just kept staring at him as Erlach’s fiery eyes stared even more deeply into yours. “You just have to say yes.”

To say your head was spinning was an understatement. What a wild ride that night was becoming – and something inside you stirred, telling you it would become even wilder. Were you reading his words right…? His gestures…? Not that Erlach was being subtle about it, he was being as blunt as his kind could be, but… Were you going crazy? You were, probably. That was a more plausible explanation than what you had to admit yourself – than what you were living right at that moment.

“If you think I’d give up Dante for power, then you can see nothing he saw in me.” You spat back, still holding your head high. “You are just as clueless as the rest of your kind.”

Erlach laughed back – not a laugh of an evil demon as you were used to, but one of delight. He… Enjoyed your answer…?

“The more you speak, the more I see.” He finally chuckled, stepping back after one last stare. “And I will see you later.”

With a snap of his fingers, you were back to the cold, abandoned crypt you and Kyrie were being held hostages. As your dizziness faded and you came back to reality, you saw her holding one of your hands, checking if you were ok with one of her palms on your forehead. Even if you didn’t feel lightheaded anymore, your mind was still troubled – and you had to sit down on the stone loveseat you shared with Kyrie earlier.

“Are you ok, y/n? What happened?” She sat by your side, big hazelnut eyes staring at you with warmth and humanity – so much different from the fiery pit of Erlach’s eyes. So much more welcoming and cozier. So much more like home. You would’ve hugged her if you weren’t so disoriented. “Y/n. What did he do to you? What happened?!”

“I think…” You finally managed to put into words what just happened – even if you didn’t want to say what you thought out loud. It seemed that by saying it, a sort of magic would make it become true. “I think… A demon lord just fell in love with me.”

You and Kyrie just stared at each other in horror, not even knowing what to say.

“What the hell…?!”

And Kyrie finally managed to put into words what you had been thinking the whole time.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Nico just stared at Lady as Dante growled while mounting on his bike.

To be fair, Nico wasn’t the safest person to be behind a wheel, even more in a dire situation like that with Nero by her side looking like he was about to bite ankles and throw punches – but something about Dante looking like he was about to burst into flames while viciously riding the Cavaliere and growling in a half-distorted demon voice was enough to get the gunsmith ever so slightly… Concerned.

“Everything ok there, Dante, or do we need to take you in the van?” Lady screamed out her window, while Nico hoped the bright red glint in Dante’s eyes was only her imagination. “You look like you wanna beat me in a race! We hunt demons to save humans, not run them over, you know?”

“Eh, demon spidey-sense is tinglin’, Lady! That’s no good!” Dante screamed back, doing his best to keep the demonic part of his voice repressed inside his chest. He would have more than enough opportunities to let that explode. “Y/n is unsafe. I can feel it. And I…” With that, Dante drove to the back of the van because of a narrowing road, only to come back a few seconds later. “Don’t…” Another interruption for Dante not to run over a citizen cluelessly crossing the street and almost being run over by Nico. “Like it!”

His last phrase couldn’t keep the distortion in anymore and it sounded like a deep roar that came out of his chest like fire. Trish could already see the fangs in his bared teeth: those demons were in for the fight of a lifetime, for everyone knew making Dante’s lover feel unsafe was one of the worst sins in the Sparda dictionary.

Nico opened her mouth to talk to Nero – because, maybe, he could beat some sense into his uncle’s head, given they had the very same heritage – but for the first time she just put the cigarette between her lips and decided to shut up.

She was still getting used to Nero’s new trigger, so the halfway-into-turning state was something Nico didn’t really know how to deal with. By this point, Nero’s nails were definitely claws and his fangs were very much similar to Dante’s. He was fidgeting everywhere, messing with Blue Rose, as if something was really wrong with the gun and he had to fix it – a thousand fucking times. Nico could also swear his eyes were starting to glow with an inhumane gold tinge and that was very alien to her.

“Hey, kid! What about your spidey-sense tingling? Anything new?” Luckily for Nico, she had Trish around – and that woman was a pure devil, so there were very few things she feared. They all knew Nero was getting used to his own new powers, so Trish always decided to stay around and lend a hand whenever Nero had to go through something emotionally heavy – she knew it herself that demon instinct always came crashing like a wild wave whenever emotions were running high.

“Eh, she’s not good too, Trish. Worried as heck, I can feel it.” Nero mumbled under his breath, fixing the barrels of the Blue Rose for the tenth time, probably – not even needing to mention he was talking about Kyrie. With a click, the gun cocked back to its original state and Nero turned his now slightly golden aquamarine eyes to the devil leaning on his seat. “And I don’t like it either. Not at fucking all.”

Nico had to say, it always sent shivers down her spine when Nero spoke with his demonic voice like that. She was used to him being her goofy sort of brother, bickering with her down the road and tossing over-the-top, smart mouthed taunts to demons. Hearing him like that was… Something else. And Nico didn’t like it that much as well.

The last time you felt unsafe seemed like a whole lifetime ago.

You tried to control your hands as they wanted to start shaking – but you kept telling yourself you needed to keep Kyrie safe. After all, you were the devil hunter, not her. Kyrie could kill every single one in the crew with kindness, but not those devils… Those had to be killed with blades and gunpowder.

Being with Dante had given you something you never really had before, and just now you noticed it was tied to your red devil: safety. Even if he wasn’t around physically, you could always count on the fact that Dante, son of Sparda, Crimson Slayer, would bend Hell itself around his will to keep you from any kind of harm. It had never downed on you because, up until that point, that was a given.

Today, Halloween of all days, was a little more complicated. Dante wasn’t around, the whole ritual was bound to have some heavy magic to keep him at bay, you were completely unarmed and the demons you were up against were another kind – not the stupid, belligerent type you handled almost on a daily basis; no, those were smart, cunning and dangerous.

To top all of that, you had Kyrie on your side. If you were alone, you’d probably already be trying some unhinged escape attempts, but they were so smart on deciding to kidnap her as well. She was your weak spot on that situation and the fact that you felt unsafe and couldn’t do your best to protect her, only highlighted the fear you started to feel creeping up at the base of your stomach.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, the only thing that could at least try to calm your nerves was to imagine being back in Dante’s arms, at the Devil May Cry, the smell of warm pizza around and him humming some old tunes you both loved. That was home. That was your haven. Dante was your refuge, keeping you secure from every evil thing that could attack you in this world, and he wasn’t there.

For a split second, you wondered if he could feel how much your heart was aching – screaming with all its might in the hopes he would hear its call.

Suddenly, two demons entered the room you and Kyrie were being held. They didn’t have to say much: with swords pointed at both of you and the heavy doors wide open, you knew it was time. Knowing you had to calm your nerves so at least she could have a chance to escape, you got up and calmly walked in front of Kyrie – head high and staring those demons right back in their eyes.

“Everything will be ok.” You murmured back over your shoulder, knowing Kyrie would listen. “If you find a safe chance to run, do it and don’t look back. I can handle them better alone.”

You felt Kyrie’s soft hands brushing on one of yours, her voice nothing but a whisper. “Don’t put yourself in danger, y/n. I don’t wanna run without you.”

You closed your eyes, chuckling a little in silence. She was indeed an angel among so many demons – including all of you in the crew. “Oh, Kyrie. You have to learn… The whole crew would die for you, don’t you know that already…?” And even if your words weren’t the kindest, you had the sweetest tone in your voice – saying nothing but the truth. “You run. It’ll take more than a few demons to bring me down.”

Kyrie knew you were lying only to make her feel safer – there was a tinge of bitterness in your sweetness, a slight glint of sadness in your eyes. Those were more than a few demons, and both of you knew it.

She could only sigh in response and confirm with her head. You and Dante were bittersweetly so alike: always lying and pretending nothing was too serious, putting yourselves on the line for those you loved, trying to make them stop worrying while you were both ready to walk right into certain death. She had seen how angry you got every time he tried to pull something like that on you – and Kyrie had to smile even if a little bit upon realizing how similar you and your lover were, even if you hated when he did that.

Both of your thoughts had to be violently changed and brought back to the present moment when the time came to enter what one day was a beautiful, untarnished cathedral. The imposing gothic architecture was in shambles, the stars shining clearly in the deep night sky above your heads – the high peaks of the cathedral long gone. A long tapestry on the ground, torn apart and eaten by parasites, lead the way in a dirty blood red to the middle of the aisle, where a grandiose bonfire stood and lit none other than your groom.

That was definitely not the devil you had intended to marry if you ever walked down the aisle. Also, you always thought if you ever married Dante, the ceremony would be in the Devil May Cry: you would enter the shop, dressed in your best hunting clothes – maybe something leather, carefully picked by Trish to make you even more mesmerizing – watching Dante smiling at you, leaning on his desk, arms crossed and love pouring from his eyes.

That was the perfect marriage for you alright. And leaving for a quick honeymoon with your red devil, riding on the Cavaliere, a few cans tied to it with a “just married” sign on the back, waving at the crew at the door of the shop while Dante made the motorcycle burn the road with its demonic power? More than perfect.

“You shall enter first. The other human stays until your ritual is performed.” One of the demons held Kyrie hostage, pointing your way down the derelict aisle. Her eyes were filled with fear, and you couldn’t do anything but comply.

Holding your head high, you walked down the damned aisle. Not like a perfect fiancé, but like a wronged force of nature, just waiting for the right time to unleash your fury against all those demons. You were wearing those ridiculous clothes, on that ridiculous place, while demons started chanting and playing a song for the demonic ritual that had just started, stripped of your guns, blades and clothes.

To say you wanted to sucker punch Erlach on his face until his sharp teeth fell out was an understatement.

And yet, he had nothing but admiration and fire in his eyes for you. The more you approached, the more he smiled, offering you his hand as you were getting closer and closer – you refused to take it, standing in front of him just like you did when he first talked to you.

“You know, the kidnapping and taking my gear away, I could forgive. But these clothes…?” You pointed down at that hideous thing that was forced to you. “You could’ve done better. A lot better.”

“I judged you by all the mortals I’ve ever met – and now I realize I shouldn’t have done so. Do apologize, exquisite creature.” And Erlach answered your insult with a delighted distorted laugh. You just remained there, looking like you had just stuck a flip flop into a toaster, not knowing what to do. It seemed that the more you tried to repel him, the more Erlach liked you. “But rituals shouldn’t be taken lightly. One should wear the proper attire.”

“To think a demon would’ve dressed his counterpart a lot better and risqué than this…” You sighed, pushing all those ruffles away from your face as he, once more, tried to take your hand and guide you to approach the bonfire. “I thought this was going to be a dual wedding. Where’s your friend?”

“Orcus can try to pull off his ritual after I’m done with mine.” Erlach had a devilish smile pulling his lips up in a distorted line. It was a little… Unsettling. “We… Agreed such a powerful ritual should be done one at a time.”

“Huh. That’ll be before or after you kill him?” You had one eyebrow lifted and Erlach laughed with joy in his voice, now finally forcing you to walk with him towards the bonfire. “You got quite the silver tongue to convince him you’re gonna let him go through with his ritual with his head still on his shoulders.”

“Oh, my dear, you have no idea.” Erlach forced you to spin around and look deep into his eyes, holding you by both of your arms in an iron clasp you couldn’t break away easily without your weapons. “You are very welcome to discover soon enough. I am mesmerized with your cunning and wit – so much better than all those pitiful uninspired creatures I have to live with every day. We will be quite a pair, sweet temptation.”

That admiration was there, that fire burning in his eyes, and… Lust…?! You had to contain a shiver of pure terror thinking a creature like that lusted for you. It wasn’t necessarily his appearance – you did find Dante one hell of a piece of temptation in whatever form he was, be it human, Devil Trigger or even his Sin Devil Trigger – but his soul. Erlach lacked the very thing that made you fall madly and hopelessly for Dante: his golden heart, his gentle soul, his kind eyes and his unapologetic humanity.

That was why it didn’t matter how Dante looked like: you would always fall in love with him. Even if he was just a piece of rock with googly eyes laying on his desk, you would love that rock with all your heart.

“What if I refuse to be your pair?” You had one of your eyebrows raised, trying to hide the fear creeping at the base of your stomach. “As far as I know, all marriages require a resounding yes from both parts. What are you gonna do? Torture me?”

“As tempting as that sounds…” And even if you didn’t show it, your blood certainly froze in your veins for a second. “I fear you would take a very long time to break under such circumstances. The Son of Sparda chose you for your brave heart and hardened soul, I can see that now. Luckily for demonic rituals, the sacrifices don’t need to consent.”

“Oh. I thought I was more than just a disposable piece of meat. I’m hurt.” Masking your fear with jokes and taunts, you had learned that with the very best. Dante had all the blame for that.

“Don’t be, my creature.” Erlach’s words were laced with a laugh while he took a ceremonial dagger from an altar nearby. “That is how humans are usually named in our rituals. You will remain alive, or else, it doesn’t work. I do need your blood… A reasonable amount, but nothing lethal.”

His hand clasped your wrist with a tight grip you couldn’t break from. Your heart started beating faster and faster, as you looked around trying to find Kyrie – crossing her terrified eyes as she watched from the distance, close to the entrance where once was a door, fearing for your life. You wanted to mutter some soothing words for her, but not even you could lie that much: your survival instincts kicked in and your adrenaline spiked. It was now or never, but you had to escape.

Erlach held your arm above a bowl made of pure gold, now darkened with time and stained with all the sacrifices it contained. He spoke some words in demonic language, while the chanting got even more intense – some things you could understand, but the others were lost as your mind became hazy with trying to think what to do.

It was a surprise to all – you closed your free hand in a fist and did exactly what you wanted to do since you saw that hideous thing you were wearing: sucker punch that conceited demon right on his face.

Erlach was taken aback for a moment, looking back at you with confused eyes. Seizing his distraction, you disarmed him and took the ceremonial dagger to yourself, cutting his hand that held your wrist and demanding him to let you go. Erlach stumbled back in awe, while you took a fighting stance with the dagger in your hand, ready to kill – but not ready to get married.

And he smiled.

“Such fire…!” To say Erlach was ecstatic was an underestimation. “My creature… What are you going to do with that?” And he took a predator stance, as both of you studied your options in that fight.

If you could look back at Kyrie, you would see her smiling and supporting you as much as she could. To say she admired you, was to say you only liked Dante.

“I am going to kill every single demon in this cathedral… Including you.” Pointing the dagger at Erlach, it was your turn to allow a devilish smile to cover your lips. “Then, I’m taking my friend back home. Back into the arms of the only devil I will ever love. Back to Dante.”

As you spoke, you didn’t even hear a ragged guitar faintly playing in the background – and approaching ominously. The only thing you had in mind was a tunnel focus on Erlach, ready to tear him apart as soon as he got close to you.

“Oh, I will enjoy that, my creature. And I might even need to get rid of Dante myself.” As soon as he finished his sentence, though, you scoffed in a laughter of pure mockery.

“Now that, you would try. Dante is so much more than you will ever be – he will reduce you to ashes with a single stare. That’s how pitiful you are compared to him, Erlach.” As your words poured, you couldn’t stop laughing at how he looked slightly insulted. Fucking finally. “And I gotta say, that’s not the only thing Dante is really good at. He does burn like fire.”

“I will enjoy subduing you.” Erlach growled, baring his teeth. Now you managed to piss him off.

“I will enjoy watching you try.” You wouldn’t allow him too much time to think: spinning the blade in your hand for a better grip, you finally tried to stab him with a swift attack – but he easily dodged as you got even angrier at that ridiculous clothing you were wearing. Those frills and terrible fabric made your movement a lot debilitated.

You tried a few other attacks as Erlach dodged and started smiling again, enjoying every bit of it – starting to even try a few attacks, while you blocked with the dagger. It was all too fast… At the same pace of the guitar that now echoed loudly, with a very familiar song approaching the chorus.

“Now, my creature.” Erlach held your hand with the dagger when you tried another stab. Even if you were resisting, it was more entertaining than anything else: you needed your gear. He pulled you closer to him, even if you tried to stay away as much as you could. “It’s time to stop the fun. We can do this after the ritual.”

Before any of you could do anything else, the guitar finally arrived – with the screeching of what seemed a thousand tires, the smell of gasoline and the sound of a shot from a gun you knew so well.

Said shot hit the dagger, making it shatter into a thousand little pieces in your hand, causing Erlach to let go of you in a reflex – while AC/DC’s vocalist screamed he would shoot to thrill, play to kill.

“Well, I think we’re all ready for the afterparty, aren’t we, hot stuff?”

Dante had entered down the aisle with Cavaliere screeching, leaving a trail of fire behind him, stopping right in the middle to shoot that ceremonial dagger into oblivion. The smoke was still fresh on the barrel of his gun, while he had one foot on the ground, still mounted on his motorcycle, smirking at you with that gorgeous smile that, today, you wanted to kiss out of his mouth with so much passion the crew would probably have to throw a whole bucket of water on both of you to put out the fire.

And, right behind him, Nico crashed what was left of the cathedral’s door while blasting AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill because she would be damned if she didn’t put a good soundtrack for that moment. You could see her smiling behind the wheel, supporting every single bit of Dante’s antics.

The smile that painted your lips – a broad one, mixed with thrill and relief – was everything Dante wanted to see. That was all the confirmation he needed to know that pull in his chest was actually your heart desperately calling for him to help.

“Ya know, I could forgive the kidnapping, you got one hell of a devil hunter in your hands to deal with…” Dante now let go of Cavaliere, leaving it in the middle of the cathedral, walking down the aisle with the sassy walk you always loved to see – moving his hips and opening his arms, taunting with a pretended carefree attitude. The distortion in his voice, sharp teeth and claws betrayed his words, though – and you couldn’t be happier. “But what’s the deal with those clothes?!”

“Exactly.” You smiled back, sighing as if someone there finally understood you. Erlach just looked at you and back at Dante trying to contain his surprise – it wasn’t possible you were synchronized in even that. “I can barely move, how am I supposed to kick his ass?”

“I can help ya with that, pretty eyes.” Dante’s voice now became darker, leaning even further into his Devil Trigger. For a split second, you could swear you saw his demonic form taking over before Dante appeared again. His eyes were almost entirely taken by red, his hand already gripping the hilt of Rebellion. “But I gotta deal with a few of these clowns first.”

“I’m not going anywhere, hot stuff.” You had the proudest of smiles on your lips as the demons started to approach, ready to fight your red devil. “Show them what a real party looks like.”

“Ya don’t have to ask twice!”

“What are you all waiting for?!” As soon as Erlach screamed, the demons ran towards Dante as a pack of rabid creatures, ready to take his blood. Erlach smiled with pride as they surrounded the Crimson Slayer, already pouncing to take a bite – there was no way a hybrid could take so many demons at once in a fight.

Looking at the crew’s van, you managed to see Lady leaning by the vehicle, watching it all with excitement but refusing to get into the fight. You almost laughed upon seeing Trish holding Nero’s jacket while he tried to let himself go from her iron tight grip, probably saying he should be in the fight too – but his eyes weren’t locked on Dante or the swarming demons: Nero was looking for Kyrie.

And you would’ve done the same, finally questioning yourself where they were keeping her after all that confusion took over the ritual. Nero could very well let himself go of Trish, but everyone knew he had his own priority – a priority you couldn’t find, and that fact started worrying you.

You would have given that a better thought if a sudden fiery explosion hadn’t sent demons flying around the cathedral like fireworks. Dante’s Devil Trigger was on, but not his normal one… It was his Sin Devil Trigger in all his demonic glory, with leathery wings hovering him from the floor and Devil Sword Dante burning like fire in his hands.

To say that would be a slaughter… Again, would be putting it lightly. With the masterfully chosen soundtrack by Nico blasting on the background, Dante single handedly slayed all the demons that decided to cross between you and him. You risked a side look to Erlach, only to find the demon astonished by Dante’s form and power – and you couldn’t resist. You leaned on the altar next to you, with a matter-of-fact look in your eyes.

“He usually has this effect on people… And demons.” You had to say it. You just couldn’t refrain from taunting and annoying that silly devil who forced you to wear those terrible wedding clothes.

With the Devil Sword Dante dripping blood, the son of Sparda approached as he slayed all the demons that tried to fight. Dante was a frightening powerhouse – usually terrifying, but today even more… After all, the human he loved most in all dimensions was kidnapped by a conceited demon who thought he would have the chance to bind his beloved in a marriage ritual without their consent. Dante was beyond angry.

“It will only be an obstacle, then.” Erlach turned his eyes back to you. “Don’t think for a second I gave up, my creature. If I have to kill the son of Sparda, I will do so – with the power you will grant me with your blood.”

Once again, the demon held your arm – but this time, digging the nails into your skin, making you scream with the sudden pain. That made Dante immediately turn to you, being hit as well and inundating the cathedral with the smell of the blood of Sparda. His fighting became sloppy as he tried to approach you even faster – but it also became even more vicious.

Erlach dragged you back to the sacrificial bowl, as you tried to get away. Even with your fighting, your limited movements weren’t helping too much. As he extended your arm above the bowl, you managed to see – behind him, in the distance, covered in shadows – Orcus holding Kyrie hostage, searching everywhere for a breech so he could finish his ritual before Erlach.

“Nero! Kyrie is over there! Go kick his ass, kid!” You screamed while fighting so Erlach couldn’t drip your blood into the bowl. Yes, he needed more than a few drops from the gashes from his claws – but he could make them bigger once you were in a decent position. And you didn’t want to give him that.

“Kyrie! I’m coming for you!” And finally, after his aquamarine eyes found Kyrie’s plea for help, Nero did let go of Trish with ease – and the she-devil didn’t even try to hold him back. With just a smile on her face, the woman looked back at Lady and they knew it was time to intervene now that both of you were located and they wouldn’t risk any of your lives.

Amidst all that, with Dante literally burning his way towards you while being held back by three demons, a few invisible cuts made them fall apart and gush blood all over the floor. Vergil entered the cathedral, while carrying an old book you saw at Erlach’s office earlier that night – the book with all the ancient, and most forbidden, devilish incantations.

“Go on, Dante. I’ll take it from here.” Vergil barely looked at the demons he was fighting with: holding the book with one hand and being assisted by summoned swords, he only needed a few well placed judgement cuts to get rid of all those nuisances.

Dante didn’t even think twice after hearing his brother’s words. Marching down the aisle, he approached you and Erlach like a death omen – his demonic form in his ultimate Devil Trigger was enough to inspire respect even in the upper echelon of Hell.

And you had to say, you were proud of that.

“Let y/n go, Erlach.” As Dante commanded, you couldn’t fail to notice his voice was slightly… Different. The more he approached, the more his voice sounded less distorted and more human. “Ya know, for a demon with such a pretentious plan, you’d think you’d put up more of a difficult fight.” And when Dante stopped right in front of the altar between you both, he was completely human – looking at you with the sky blue eyes you loved so much. “I’m barely breakin’ a sweat.”

If Erlach’s claws weren’t deep into your skin, you would’ve locked your arms around his neck already, taking in his scent and calming down your heart. Yes, Dante would be smelling of gunpowder, blood and sweat, but that was still his scent. It was enough to make you feel secure again.

“Indeed. I underestimated you.” Erlach’s claws dug out of your skin, making you retreat quickly. You managed to see a little commotion where Kyrie and Nero were before, but with everything that was happening, you couldn’t quite make the moment where Orcus was nowhere to be seen – all you could be sure was that Kyrie was safe, back into Nero’s arms. And that was enough. “It seems like the blood of Sparda still thrives to this day.”

“Yeah, yeah, daddy’s blood and all that…” Dante rolled his eyes, shooting near Erlach’s feet. The demon jumped back, farther away from you – and that made you smile. “Spit it out, spook. How did you find out ‘bout the ritual? Where did ya get that book?”

“Apparently you never heard of a library. On that aspect, I win, my creature.” Erlach still had that weird admiration in his eyes for you, making you wince. You never gave him a single reason to like you. Demons had to be masochist creatures.

“Oh, I heard about those alright. It just so happens my brother here has spent a very long vacation time in Hell and lemme tell ya…” With those words, Dante finally took Erlach by his neck, leaning the demon over the sacrificial bowl and touching the blade of Rebellion on his neck. Dante usually didn’t get that feral… But Erlach had tried him a little bit too much that night. “He doesn’t have very nice words about you and your little friends. Those rituals aren’t well known in detail. Something gave you that book. Who?”

It wasn’t a side of Dante you liked to see, but, when dealing with those kinds of demons, it was a necessary one. Erlach, as far as you could tell, wasn’t just your dumb daily demon – he was in the upper echelon. And said echelon only became worse the higher the rank.

“You would love to know, wouldn’t you?” Erlach laughed even if the sword already started to nick some blood out of his thick demonic skin. “You will have to let me go to get your answer. If you don’t, no deal.”

You closed your eyes, sighing. Erlach was the deal kind of demon. And it was always a slippery slope with those silver tongue devils.

Dante knew that as well. His heart screamed at him to kill Erlach and let his blood run over the floor of the cathedral – to take you home safely and let you know that threat would never loom over you again.

But they needed answers. Only very high rank demons would have access to that kind of book – to those kinds of rituals. Demons like Sparda… Like Mundus. And that was something none of them wanted as a threat. The single thought of the possibility of Mundus being alive made him shiver and his blood boil. His house burned in his childhood, his family slaughtered like animals, his past stained in blood and sulfur. He didn’t want that to happen again. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Not to anyone in the crew, not to his nephew, not to his brother… Not to you.

Dante let Erlach go. The demon cracked his neck, gaining his posture once again. You stood by Dante’s side, ready to suplex Erlach into oblivion if he tried anything funny.

“The two of you already have what you need to know the answer.” Erlach pointed at the book in Vergil’s hands, moving his gaze back to you soon after. “I will have you as mine, y/n. You have my word, sweet creature.”

Before you could do anything in response, Erlach set himself ablaze in flames that kept burning for a few seconds while he disappeared back to where he came from – probably Hell, if you had to guess.

“Eh. We should’ve known he would leave without giving us a decent answer.” You sighed, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that night, knowing all demons were dead and you were around safe people again.

“And even shamelessly flirtin’ with ya, what’s up with that…?”

“No idea, red devil. I did my best for him to hate me; apparently it backfired tremendously.”

You finally turned to look at each other. Both of you looked tired, completely out of energy – you, from your human body; Dante from the toll all that fiery explosion of anger and demonic heritage could take on him. His eyes, though… Those sky blue eyes, looked at you with the human kindness you always longed for – with the admiration and fire of a lover, but the gentleness of a soul who was not only your mate, but your home.

You felt safe again. All that insecurity, that fear, that horror of being alone and having to fight on your own – to survive on your own – it washed away in that infinite blue sky. He was your home, and you were safe. Nothing bad would ever happen to you, for Dante was there to catch you and hold you in his arms until you felt you could walk with certainty again.

“I heard you, pretty eyes…” Dante murmured, taking a strand of hair out of your dirty face, watching with amusement as you furrowed your brows. He took one of his hands over his heart, eyes looking into yours. “I heard you here.”

A gradual smile lit up your face as you understood what he had said. That pull, that thing you did, of closing your eyes and praying he would find you… It worked. Of course it worked. And you couldn’t be happier, with all that pouring like a golden fountain from your heart, making your eyes laminate with a few tears and threaten to overflow.

“I’m glad you did, cowboy.” You approached him, cradling his face with your hands and leaning him down so his forehead could touch yours. “I’m glad you did. I prayed so loud for you.”

With that, you took his hand to touch your heart, in the hopes he would once again listen – but this time hear the golden tunes it sang along the overflow. The frills of the ridiculous attire didn’t allow him to find your beat, though.

“Well, I told ya I’d get rid of that, right?” Dante sighed, staring down at that horrid attire – although he would argue you could never look bad. Even with that thing on. “Ei! All of ya, look away! I’m puttin’ y/n out of their misery!”

“What…?”

Before you could finish asking, though, Dante masterfully moved Rebellion around you – while everyone turned away or closed their eyes. Lady and Trish, though, just kept staring at that goof of a man you called your lover. Within a few seconds, those terrifying wedding clothes tore apart, pooling around your feet on the floor while you just stared back at your red devil – the chilly air of the night all around your bare skin.

“That was hot.” You had to say it while Dante quickly checked you out like the masterpiece he always thought you were.

“Not as hot as you, babe.” With a wink, Dante took off his red coat, wrapping it around you and making you warm again.

You loved wearing Dante’s coat. It was definitely too big for you, but it was always warm – that night, you could almost say it seemed like it was enveloped in flames. But it had his scent all over it and it fit like a huge cape you could almost drag on the ground. You couldn’t have asked for a better attire for that evening.

“Hey.” As you called for his attention, those blue eyes rested on you again, little by little settling all that restlessness that whole ordeal had set in your soul. And, since words weren’t enough, you once again cradled his face with your hands, this time placing a well-deserved kiss on your lover’s lips.

Dante giggled between your lips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to lift you off the floor – making it easier for you to kiss him unapologetically. You never saw yourself as a damsel in distress, and you would have killed every demon in that room with a dagger and your teeth if it was necessary, but it wasn’t. And that was so new: you could always count on Dante to be there for you, to protect you and to be a place for you to fall whenever you lost your balance.

Your heart stopped screaming and Dante’s soul found peace again.

“Ah, I see Nero stole Dante’s idea.”

As you saw Kyrie leaving the van’s bathroom wearing nothing but Nero’s coat, she smiled happily back at you while showing it off as soon as you pointed that out. You were sitting in the van, still in the red coat – Dante would know only later that decision would cost him his sanity while trying to get his coat back from you. A few chases and him gripping you tight to get his coat back was in store for the rest of that night.

“It was a very good idea.” Kyrie had a mischievous smile on her lips, blushing a little bit while grabbing the collar of Nero’s coat and taking in the scent. “It smells like him. It feels like he’s always around.”

“I know what you mean.” You smiled proudly as an answer, barely noticing Nico staring at both of you while Lady and Trish giggled.

“Ya know what she means…? That coat is nasty!” Nico pointed at the blue coat enveloping the crew’s little angel, making you laugh a little bit more. “And yours?! If Nero’s coat is bad, Dante’s even worse! Looks like he just blasted from the insides of a frog demon or somethin’! And you say it has his scent?!” The gunsmith couldn’t be more revolted at yours and Kyrie’s antics.

“That’s Dante’s scent for ya...” You sighed, leaning back on the van’s seat – something quite red devilish like. “Gunpowder, demon’s blood and sweat. When he’s clean, though, it’s more of a woody and musky with a hint of pizza kind of scent. Sometimes strawberries.”

“Apparently, love doesn’t make us only blind, it makes our sense of smell completely absent.” Trish strutted her way towards the seat she always took in the van, across from you, having a complacent smile on her devil lips.

“It makes us more tolerant.” Kyrie sat by your side, completely happy to be wearing Nero’s clothes and safe and sound with the crew again. “That is a thing most people need to learn more about.”

“As always, angel Kyrie is right.” Lady sighed, taking her spot inside the van – after lightly elbowing Nico just to tease the gunsmith. “Just like we tolerate the smell of your cigarettes.”

“Hey, at least I’m not turning into a fuming creature blasting demon viscera everywhere!” Nico pointed at Lady with her cigarette between her fingers, making all of you laugh. “Must take days to get those things off your hair!”

“Sometimes, it takes even weeks!” Dante’s voice added from outside of the van, entering soon after to take his seat right by your side. To say Dante would be hovering around you for months, overly protecting you over anything and everything, was a very mild way to describe his behavior after that evening.

“Ya know, once I found a piece of liver hidden right behind my ear…?” Nero approached Nico as she just glared at him with pure disgust. “Took me days to find it.”

“You’re nasty, demon boy.” Nico lightly shoved Nero out of the way, dismissing all that conversation to go back to the stirring wheel. Nero laughed back, making his way to Kyrie and sitting by her side, cradling her with one of his arms while she rested her head on his chest.

“We couldn’t find more on the origin of their knowledge…” Vergil was the last one to board, closing the van’s door behind him. As soon as he did, Nico started driving back home – and he showed you a few things he had in his hands. “But we did find your gear. I will keep it in a safe place until we get back to the shop.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Verge!” You had genuine relief in your voice, watching as he carefully placed your sword next to him. “I thought I’d never see those things again. Thanks for finding them.”

As always, Vergil didn’t answer, just bowed his head as the perfect gentleman he was. Soon, Dante’s arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

“Huh, so much thankfulness for Vergil, while I was the one who saved your ass from that demon lord. I’m feeling a little ignored.” Of course, you knew Dante was only joking – never in all your time together you picked up any sign of jealousy he could have of you and Vergil. Dante was very secure about your relationship, knowing quite well where your heart rested – he would be insecure, sometimes, when it came to other humans.

“Oh, c’mon. How can I not be thankful when it’s my gear we’re talking about?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him back – which only made Dante smile. “Now being a little more serious, it was rough being stripped of everything. Even with that hideous frilly attire, I felt completely naked. There’s no way for me to defend myself without all my stuff; I don’t have demonic blood running through my veins to go into a rampage and kill every single living thing in front of me.”

“Well, lucky for you, I got that goin’ for me.” Dante brought you even closer, tightening his half hug around you.

“Hmmm…” You took some time to take in his scent, this time directly from his neck, right in front of you. Yes, all those things you mentioned before, but you could always find the woody and musky Dante scent underneath all of that. And maybe it was that which made you feel so comfortable and secure. “I was scared. I was running out of options when you showed up.”

“Shhh, don’cha think ‘bout that, pretty eyes.” Whenever you voiced how uncomfortable you were with something, Dante immediately started caressing you just to at least make you feel physically comfortable again. And you had to say, it always worked.

“I know, I know… It’s just… I know I can always count on you to appear at the direst of moments, no matter where I am.” With those words, you placed one of your hands above his heart, making those sky blue eyes look back into yours. “I know you can hear me call, no matter what.”

“It’s part of the demon thing, babe.” Even though he was happy with that, Dante had a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe… But demons don’t show up to save desperate souls who are praying for them when all other options have failed.” You brushed aside some strands of dirty hair that insisted on covering those beautiful eyes – now looking at you with curiosity and admiration. “Do you know who do?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Angels do.” Your answer was but a murmur, even quieter than the engines of the van. “You are my very own guardian angel, Dante.”

Lady once said that, somewhere out there, even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one – but you would dare to add that devils did cry when they were loved back.

Your red devil was living proof of that on that Halloween night.

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #dante x reader #dante imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc dante #dante sparda #devil may halloween #the ripping the dress apart scene #I'm SUCH a fan of Zorro #and Antonio Banderas does that with Catherine Zeta Jones in the 1st movie #BOOM one of my fave things right there when I saw it for the first time #Dante was raised on Zorro and I'll die on this hill #alsoooo couldn't resist making Erlach a character that may or may not appear again #something about having a demon lord fall in love with Dante/Vergil's s/o sounds so funny to me #I have to make that a recurrent theme #and the 'I'd love you even if you were a rock with googly eyes' is indeed a reference to Everything Everywhere All At Once #just recently watched with my mom and was devastated and happy at the same time #some people we would love even in the rock dimension #I hope you guys like it!! even if it took forever to post!! T-T

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