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#it's made it a bit easier for this to be my last day and i hate that honestly
zarvasace · 1 day
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The last, and probably my current favorites of the bunch: Prince and Mirage, dark Warriors and dark Legend! I keep trying to put the images side-by-side so they don't take up as much room but Tumblr HATES that. Sorry.
My document with all these boys' descriptions on it is over 7k words. Holy heck. Hope you like them. XD Masterpost
More information and art beneath the cut yayyy
Prince
Prince is dark Warriors. 
Cia gave Warriors a lot of unwanted attention, which he spurned. Prince, on the other hand, wouldn't just accept the attention, but would have welcomed it. He wasn't entirely autonomous when he was summoned, but he remembers everything. He knows that he never wants to not be in control of himself ever again.
Instead of championing freedom, however, Prince makes a point of controlling others. If he controls them, they can't control him. Shackle is similar, but they have different methods. While Shackle prefers physical subjugation to be sure they're in his power, Prince uses manipulation. He pretends to be your friend, all the while gaining your trust. His job is made all the easier by his own special talent: Charm. 
Prince’s Charm is a supernatural ability to influence people. Where Madness takes over bodies, Prince sways the mind. His Charm is something he can turn on and off at will, at different intensities. It doesn't work well on any being with too much light, but it does work on criminals or people with guilt and secrets. The other Darks are susceptible to it, though after… an incident… Prince doesn't do it to them. Usually. 
It works like this: Prince identifies his target, which can be an individual or an entire crowd. He turns his Charm on intentionally, and depending on how hard he pushes, his target’s attention is drawn to his face. Because he does not look human, he then has to quickly begin talking, to pour even more Charm on. If he does it right (it does require skill and charisma), the target forgets his appearance is anything out of the ordinary. He needs a minute or two of conversation and rakish smiles to dig his claws deep enough that they don't remember anything unusual once they stop looking right at him. Prince uses his Charm to get information, favors, and generally spread his anti-Link agenda. The riskier or weirder his request is, the more Charm he has to layer on, and some people just straight up won't do some things. The Charm wears off after a while, depending on the target and how long they were exposed to it, which takes anywhere from a few minutes to a few weeks, averaging out at a day or two. 
Prince has to choose his targets wisely, which can be difficult to do because he does not look human and does not have any kind of magical disguise. That last point is a sore spot. He doesn't want a disguise, he just wants people to stop looking at him like he's going to burn their house down, thank you very much. He only has their best interests at heart. Prince is bitter and extremely envious about Warriors winning hearts so easily thanks to his good looks and natural charisma, so Prince does his best to do the same without them. His Charm is better anyway. 
…It's a good thing he hasn't actually been let loose on a population yet. 
(Warriors is a bit of a flirt, but not too badly. Prince makes a game out of trying to make people fall in romantic love with him as fast as he can. (Author’s note: I'm not touching sex. That is not the sort of story I want to tell here.))
Prince doesn't need food, and he doesn't need to breathe, but he does need to use his Charm. Because he magically learns a bit of information about his targets when he's focused on them, his theory is that he leeches from their emotions, or their identities, or something of that sort. He hasn't shared the theory with anyone, but the Dark Chain does know that Prince needs to use his Charm or he starts to get very, very hangry. It's a physical need for him. Of course, pushing too hard or trying to Charm too many people at once gives him migraines. 
Prince considers himself a leader, and it rankles him a bit that Depth is the one in charge. He contents himself with sitting back and letting Depth do all the hard things, though he has Charmed Depth several times into going along with what Prince wants to do. Prince sees Shackle as a sort of protege in the ways of manipulation, and occasionally provides pointers about how to subtly get under people’s skin. Prince and Madness end up working together a lot, since Prince can Charm Madness’s thralls into forgetting they ever lost time, or he can make up memories for them. Sometimes the two of them get migraines at the same time, which spells out lots of “fun” for everyone else. He fights a lot with Mirage and is always trying to catch Agony off-guard to give him a good scrubbing. He's the only reason that Nothing or Dire get baths, too. 
Prince is arrogant and ambitious, yes. He's proud of his appearance and does his best to stay clean and orderly—he doesn't mind the memories of military training that he gets from Warriors, since those routines help him to be efficient. He wears a copy of Warriors’s outfit, but fancier, with a fluffy shirt and a corset on top, and his tunic is purple because (1) it's opposite green on some color wheels and (2) it's the color of royalty. His silvery hair is a little longer than Warriors’s is, and he wears a luxurious red cape.
Sometimes he puts a little too much flair into his moves, but he's proficient with as many weapons as Warriors is, if less practiced. He talks a lot, boasts a lot, and casually jabs where it hurts. He holds a lot of jealousy and hate in his heart, and if he gets a little drunk, he'll go on and on about how much he dislikes Warriors, specifically. 
Prince’s ultimate ambition is to rule his Hyrule as undisputed, beloved emperor. He wants to do that by winning the hearts of every soldier, every servant, every noble. He wants to steal Warriors’s relationships right out from under him without him noticing. Prince knows that he can't rely on his temporary Charm to do that, though, so his plan is to ally with the organizations of traitors throughout Hyrule and add his persuasive charm and Charm to their efforts, eventually rising to become their leader. 
Prince’s best dreams involve him standing over a defeated Warriors on the balcony of the castle, a crown on his head and a queen on his arm (or king. He just thinks stealing Artemis or Impa would make it all the sweeter), with crowds below cheering for him. He has plans to keep the aging Warriors as an honored “guest” in the castle for as long as he lives, doomed to watch his beloved, darkened kingdom flourish under Prince’s ruby eyes. Someday, Prince will change his name to Link, stealing that from Warriors, too. 
Prince Link. Wait, no. King Link. No, even better… Emperor Link. 
Actually, he doesn't like the sound of Emperor. He’ll workshop that title.  
Mirage
Mirage is dark Legend, patterned after the Nightmares that Legend fought on Koholint. He knows Legend will know that immediately. 
Mirage is truly shape-fluid. His form is extremely malleable, though he can't keep up looking perfectly like a human for more than half an hour or so—he starts to melt and revert back to his most comfortable state, which is a close copy of Legend, his matter constantly shifting and dripping and melting. (Most comfortable state, not his true form. Does he have a true form? He doesn't know what it is if he does.) He is best at mimicking nonspecific human forms and small reptiles. He pretended to be a bush once, but wasn't very convincing. 
Mirage’s gooey flesh doesn't have many pain or touch receptors, and he doesn't need any kind of structure beneath the goo to stand up. He's very good at energy dispersion, so punching him means that you're either punching a brick wall or that your fist is getting absorbed. His goo is as warm as flesh and very slightly acidic, so touching him for too long can burn. He doesn't need to breathe, but he does digest organic material or minerals to build on his mass. He's weak against energy-type attacks, like acid or fire or ice, but it doesn't hurt him in the traditional sense and he can always build himself back up. He can drop entirely flat and easily squeezes through small gaps. 
Most traditional dungeon traps do absolutely nothing to Mirage: spike traps don't hurt him, as holes in his form mean nothing; he doesn't really take fall damage, just splatters a bit until he can pull himself together; giant axes that cleave him in two don't actually hurt him, either. There is one small part of Mirage’s matter that is his core. If he gets cut into pieces, the rest of him will shrivel up and evaporate in an hour or two, but his core stays alive and can regrow in a matter of days. If he gets to any cut-off piece before it evaporates, he can reassimilate it. He often messes with his form to take on any physical challenge: looking around corners with an eye on a hand; growing taller to see over a wall; spreading out his feet and legs to float on water; squeezing into cracks in an ice block and expanding in the right spot to make it all shatter. 
Mirage doesn't speak often, preferring to keep quiet. His voice is soft and slithering, with hissing Ss and a pitch that ranges from whispery to shrill. It's the worst voice in the group after Depth’s. He isn't the smartest of the Darks, but he is quite observant and if he does speak up, there's something important to pay attention to. Mirage often just goes with the group decisions, performing whatever role they require, though privately he absolutely resents having to work with anyone else, because Mirage works alone. He doesn't need companions, friends, shopkeepers, or family; he doesn't need vehicles, mounts, money, magic items, or even weapons. When he means alone, he means Very Alone. 
The thing about Legend—despite the masks and attitude he puts on—is that he cares, so so much. He cares about people being happy and safe, he bonds with everyone nice he meets whether he knows it or not, he is self-sacrificing and always working for a better world, even when people don't ask for it. Mirage does not care about much of anything except himself. He would be most content wandering around a mountain, causing a bit of chaos in a nearby town, and using his abilities to traverse impossible paths, especially through caves, just because he can. He doesn't care about the other Darks (that's a bit more of a lie than he thinks it is), he doesn't care about Legend, he doesn't care about covering the world in darkness. He’s just dragged around and knows that they have to finish this stupid mission thing before he can be left in peace. 
Mirage is somewhat fascinated with the way humans work. He's closer to an octopus or other eldritch sea creature himself, and mimics reptilian forms, but the more he learns about humans, the better he can mimic them. He might not care much about many things, but he's curious. He likes to investigate corpses (especially if he can eat them—the Dark Chain’s favorite way of “disappearing” people) and find out new things about their anatomy and chemical compositions, things he knows about and can memorize to reproduce in his own gooey flesh later. As such, he sometimes annoys the other Darks by poking at them or “testing” their senses or limits. 
He gets along best with Lost, who doesn't care much, either, and doesn't get mad at his questions or testing. Mirage responds by taking Lost babysitting duty more than his fair share. (His apathy means he's really patient with Lost and Nothing and Madness.) He makes a good team with Agony, who he sees as very similar to himself, except Agony is clearly more driven. Agony is the quick and sharp counterpart to Mirage’s slow and inevitable destruction. (And it doesn't hurt that Agony is the electricity wielder among them, so if Agony sort of likes Mirage, then all the better.) 
In a normal fight, Mirage is all but indestructible, walking through battle without problems. He doesn't bother attacking until someone hurts him, usually with fire or something similar. Then Mirage will focus to get rid of the threat—and he’s aware that the others expect him to target and take out Legend, so he does that if he has to. He's all but impossible to fight without elemental aid, and while he isn't too quick, he hits HARD and has a lot of tricks up his metaphorical sleeves. 
Still, the fact remains that if you manage to hurt him, you hurt him a lot. Mirage isn't complicated, but he's very flexible and can do things nobody is prepared for. 
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(sorry for the low contrast. But hey, my goo-drawing skills are finally relevant! Look at that hat! And the foot!)
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assistant-of-drama · 3 days
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Assistant Noah's World Tour!
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After Newfoundland...
Noah listens as he hears Alejandro angrily rant in spanish, while brushing his teeth.
The sarcastic assistant is covering his mouth and trying his best not to laugh, as he stood near the confessional door.
Apparently, the charmer doesn't like the sock flavored chowder that Heather made for him.
Even though Noah mostly forgives Alejandro for almost leaving Owen behind back in the Amazon, he may have been the reason Heather had gotten Owen's socks in the first place.
Alejandro opened the door to give Noah the stink eye. Did he already find out what Noah did?
"I'm glad that you find my suffering so hilarious." Alejandro grumbled.
So, he didn't.
Noah shrugs with a chuckle. "Well, you were kinda asking for it, considering that you tricked two guys into kissing fish and stole Heather's possible alliance with DJ."
"What can I say. She had a clever idea and I wanted to steal it for myself. And be honest with me Noah, would you rather kiss a fish or have someone else do it for you?" Alejandro asks smugly with a raised eyebrow.
Noah squints his eyes and purses his lips. "...Touche."
"That's what I thought, amigo." the charmer then winks playfully, wrapping an arm around the assistant and leading him to first class.
Noah leans into Alejandro's touch, the back of his head by the taller man's strong chest, as he asks a curious question. "By the way, how did you have time to paint those eyes on the fish?"
"I'm sure that you're smart enough to figure that out on your own."
"I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman."
"Come now Noah, we both know that I'm not."
As they entered first class to enjoy its comforts, Noah allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts.
Noah wishes he could hate the guy. He wishes he could hate the True Alejandro as much as the Fake Alejandro. He wants to hate that greasy eel. It'd make things so much easier. But the truth was, he didn't hate him at all. The true Alejandro was clever, crafty, cunning, a bit dorky and had a sense of humor that Noah could appreciate. The Fake Alejandro was just a Spanish Prince Charming Wannabe.
Alejandro's brain was even sexier than his body, and that was saying something. It was the thing that drew Noah in, made him want to be near him, even when he knew it was wrong. It was the one thing that made Noah feel like he wasn't the only one with a mind like this. They were two misfits who had found each other in this mess of a competition, and somehow, it worked. It was a strange, twisted sort of bond that they shared, and Noah wasn't sure if he could ever explain it to anyone else.
Although Noah acts like he's not interested, deep down he honestly wants nothing more than to drag Alejandro to the cargo bay and kiss the beautiful, brilliant evil genius all day long. It's the last thing he'd ever admit to, but it's the truth. They could give Bridgette and Geoff a run for their money.
Even though the True Alejandro is interesting and fun, at the end of the day, Alejandro is only here for the money. He doesn't care about Noah or anyone for that matter. Noah has seen with his own eyes and Alejandro himself told the assistant. Nothing and nobody else matters. Only the million dollars matter.
As much as it hurt Noah's little heart, it's the truth and the cynic can accept that.
He accepts it... if only he knew about the conflict in Alejandro's own heart.
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peter
"Preserved from when we were just kids" "The goddess of timing Once found us beguiling"
The first part, they were 18 and 22 when they first got together and during the beginning of their relationship and "beguiling" means enchanting/charming - and the World was enchanted by them when they were together (aside from the haters) and then even while they were off and on over the years, he was always the one that she said would come in and out of her life and they'd "never be over", all which still fits with that beguiling line.
"I thought it was just goodbye for now"
"You said you were gonna grow up Then you were gonna come find me"
This is NOT giving me Matty vibes at all and I'll die on that hill. Again, 18 and 22 fits here more than 24 and 25. Sure, you're still growing at 24/25 don't get me wrong but, Matty was very much not saying "I'm going to grow up and come find you one day" at 25 years old in the height of his addiction and during his "I can't be with someone bigger than me because I want success on my own". This is giving "I was 18 when we got together and I need to figure my shit out but, one day we'll be together when I do". This also fits her saying he was always in and out of her life. She's been waiting for him to grow up and come find her again.
"But life was always easier on you Than it was on me"
She got way more hate during their relationship than he did, as she mentions in Slut! On top of the fact, he dated/had flings with many women back to back and never got shit for it but, she dates men back to back and gets hated for it. Granted, that could fit just about any male if we're honest but, she specifically wrote Slut! about Harry so.
"When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies"
This is giving me very much "we were constantly traveling for work and maybe my jet would cross over yours and we'd end up in the same place and try to make it work and then again when we were so far away from each other". It's also interesting that this album has quite a bit of talk about galaxies/aliens/moons and then circus/con men etc. when the last two MVS we got from Harry were "Satellite" and "Daylight" - Satellite which has the imagery of the sky/galaxy and saying he's waiting for her and then we have "Daylight" which is a circus theme MV.
"And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned"
Here she's saying she dated other men during their time apart but, she was always still waiting for him to return to her and tell her he's grown up, figured out what he wanted, and that it's her.I also get the vibe she mentions men specifically because she was talking about him still being a "boy", so she dated men waiting for him - Calvin/Tom because they were her age range and they were "masquerading" as her boyfriend.
"And you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired"
This specific line is what has everyone thinking Matty but, they MET when he was 25. He was not laying all these promises out to her then and that's not what this line is saying to me. It's saying that the muse made all these promises to her BEFORE he turned 25 and then they saw each other again when he was 25 - he told her "I made those as a kid, they've expired now that we're older, they were just fantasies". Harry was 25 when he released Fine Line and when they saw each other at Ed's wedding. My guess is that was the first time they'd seen each other in a while and there was a talk that night and he might've said something along those lines or she took it that way.
All of this to also say the obvious ties of "Peter" and this song bringing the Peter Pan imagery and then "Peter Losing Wendy" reference in "Cardigan" which is obviously about Harry Styles. The fact people want to connect that with Matty now because they think this song is Matty is wild. Matty was not that young when they met, 25 is still a grown ass adult. Technically Harry was 17 when he met Taylor and who knows if they actually dated before he turned 18 or not. But James in Cardigan acts like a 17/18 year old Harry probably would've acted vs a 25 year old man. And even IF Matty and Taylor had a thing back then, it was an incredibly quick fling. Sleeping together and maybe a few dates but, they were definitely never in a relationship. She did not write Cardigan about a short fling.
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spushii · 2 years
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whumpacabra · 2 months
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I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I've been tearing through your Freelancers writing like an actual nightmare. Your writing is amazing and I love it, I love the story and the characters, I love the intrigue and I want to know literally everything about this world, I am so gripped by it. Please add me to tag lists so I can continue to experience the wonder that is you
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Oml you’re too kind - you’ll be tagged in the next update.
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silhouettecrow · 6 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 297
Adjective: Stinging
Noun: Shrike
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Stinging: having a sting, or capable of wounding or piercing with a sting; characterized by a sharp tingling or burning sensation; (of criticism) harsh or cruel
Shrike: a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill, often impaling its prey of small birds, lizards, and insects on thorns; used in names of birds similar to the shrike, e.g., peppershrike
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globodamorte · 6 months
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like there's this alley where many ppl sell things and I could very well go there it seems like a space where I could get some sales done except I CANT bc someone I know that I've been ghosting for over A YEAR sells their shit there and knows everyone there so k CANT GO THERE. "well why did you ghost them" BC I'M INSANE AND DEPRESSED LEAVE ME ALONE. like I CANT I CANT GO THERE if I see them I'm gonna throw up on the spot
#delete#like im aware this situation is entirely my fault ok i know this. just let me complain a little please#and like idk it was kinda tiring. not thwir fault but they just didnt get it (of course they didnt)#like i would constantly be sad and upset and down and not want to hang out and when we hungnout i would suddenly just drop#and feel miserable and ruin the whole mood#and if i tried talking about it it would either get too heavy or too frustrating#i know its hard to talk to ppl who are deeper than rock bottom#but its still frustrating to hear the basic oh well thats really sad bit have you thought about like. letting go of that and getting better#and also one day they kinda said something thats made me spiral in the middle of a birthday party#they said “when you talk like that it kinda drains away my wish to help” <- or something like that translation is hard#and i know (do i? now im questioning it) they meant like “if youre so negative all the time i start losing hope as well and dont know what#i should do to help“#but it hit really hard and made me miserable#idk. i also dont make things easier for myself#like. idk man#the last time i met this group of friends i regretted it so hard#bc the vibes were like “i mean this so respectfully but can yoh pretend youre not traumatized and depressed and suicidal for a second#were trying to have fun here. we love you and we hear you“#yk?????#i wouldnt say theyre bad friends. im the one who needed to go#i know how exhausting it is to deal with ppl like me#so its fine I guess#i just wasnt expecting to like. not ve able to go to this famous commecial street bc of this . sucks.#fuck me. as always
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 days
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Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes
omg I love this, let's do it hehe
Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 2,3k
Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...
Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired
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„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.
He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.
You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?
“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.
You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…
It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.
“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.
“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”
It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.
“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”
Little did he know you meant that.
-a week later-
“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”
His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.
“Oh, just work.”
No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.
Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.
You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…
“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“
“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.
Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-
He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.
“Off to bed with you.”
“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.
You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?
Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.
-a few days after-
“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.
You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.
But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.
“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.
“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”
Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.
“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”
With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.
“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.
“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.
“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.
“I’m completely back to normal!”
“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.
“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”
Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.
“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“
“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.
“The combat training with the first year-“
“Done.”
“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”
“Done.”
“Taking care of-“
“Done.”
This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?
“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”
Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.
“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”
“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.
“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”
“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.
“Call her in right now.”
Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.
“And let her leave again in about an hour.”
-an hour later-
“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”
“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.
You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.
But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?
“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.
“Ehm...so…well…”
“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“
“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.
“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.
“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”
“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.
“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”
“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.
“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”
It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…
You open the door with a swift motion.
Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.
The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.
He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.
“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.
Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.
“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.
“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.
But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-
Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…
“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.
You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.
And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…
“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.
You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.
He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.
“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.
“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”
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Tags:
 @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix 
@lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete
@gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3
@sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly
@froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi
@chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper
@baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp
@localhehecat @alicerhr @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world
@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44
@ryva @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @okay-it-is-ivy
(this took me forever so if I tagged u be so kind and leave a like/comment/reblog lol)
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ The Prequel ] || [ Chapter 2 ]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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Chapter 1: Kyle
All of last night you and your friends spent time tinkering with your profile, putting up the sexiest pics of you that you had, some of them from Instagram, some from your camera roll, and filling in all the fields of info you could… 
And then you started checking out the profiles, definitely judging and roasting the men that popped on your screen (blame the alcohol), but always swiping right, regardless of what you (or them) thought of the most recent man on the screen.
But, once they left, you turned off the notifications and alerts from the app and went to sleep. You had acquiesced to downloading the app and making a profile, but the last thing you wanted was to be on that app constantly and get bombarded with DMs and Likes/Super-Likes…
The next day came and went and, as you sat in your kitchen after work, unboxing your take-out boxes of dinner, your group chat pinged with a text from Leah.
leah: How's Tinder going? 👀
You bit your lip and sighed as you typed out a response:
you: haven’t touched it all day bc i was at work. leah: Better touch it then!!
Rolling your eyes, you set the phone down on the table again, and locked the screen, as you began stirring the noodles you bought with your chopsticks.
Mia joined not long after with her own opinion. 
mia: ive got a good feeling about today! ur gonna find a hot bloke i know it 🫶 im sending good energyyyy!
“Yeah, right…” You grumbled. But, once again, you acquiesced and clicked on the little flame-shaped app icon.
The app lagged at first, for a good 5 seconds, and then a bunch of DMs and Like notifications pinged your phone.
You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself… Oh, how predictable men are… They see a picture showing just a bit more skin and they try to chat the person up. But, at the same time, it made you feel quite good…
You skim through the DMs you’ve already gotten, over 99 of them… And none of them tickled your fancy. Plenty of them were variations of “Oi.”, “Hey.”, “Hi.”... Not to mention the ones that were just directly asking you to meet up right from the get-go.
Returning to the groupchat, you text your friends a screenshot of the 99+ counter on both the DMs and the Likes, which causes them to break into cheers at you.
leah: Look at you!!!! mia: i knew it. you: not into any of them tho. mia: then go back to swiping girl!
Biting back a little groan, you returned to Tinder and flicked onto the Swiping page.
Surprisingly, now that you were alone (and kind of doing it against your will), it was a lot easier for you to not get lost over-analyzing the profiles and simply… mindlessly moving your finger.
Right.
Right.
Right.
Right.
Ew, that’s a catfish of a famous male model, Report.
Right.
Right.
Right.
“Kyle.” You said softly as you read the name on your screen. He looked adorable, with a squinted ‘the-sun-is-in-my-eyes’ smile. “29… A soldier… a Brummie…” You mused as you slipped a Chinese roll past your lips and chewed.
You took a screenshot of his profile and sent it quickly to your friends’ groupchat before you returned to Tinder. As you clicked through his photo gallery, you saw the push notifications pinging at the top of the screen.
leah: HE’S STUNNING! 😫 mia: 👀👀👀👀👀 mia: smash.
Chuckling, you continue going through his pictures. “Holiday photo, holiday photo, I seriously hope those are his nephews or something, mandatory picture in uniform, and… JESUS CHRIST, a warning would’ve been NICE?!” You said to no one in particular as your jaw dropped open and you almost dropped your Chinese roll. 
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“Bloody hell… Is that sweat or baby oil?” You asked yourself as you looked at his slick, bare chest in the mirror selfie he uploaded. “And is he cupping his-” You stopped that train of thought before it could go too far from the station.
Clicking the arrow in the corner you finally brought his profile into full-screen and proceeded to find yourself chuckling at his bio. 
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His pictures were all wonderful, he looked like a guy who took care of himself, and he was funny which was the best part. 
Taking a deep breath, you press the Green heart at the bottom. A squeal escapes your mouth when the phone screen suddenly changes to the darker ‘It’s a Match!’ screen with Kyle.
Your eyes widen in surprise and, just as you press the DM button, intent on coming up with something to message him, you notice it.
Kyle: bought some shoes from a drug dealer this morning. don’t know what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping over myself all day and now think ive finally fallen for you 👀
The cheesy pick-up line has you closing your eyes and exhaling through your nose. It’s starting off terribly… But he’s the first bloke you felt inclined to text… That has to mean something, doesn’t it?
you: you fell out of a helicopter… i dont think its the shoes. i’m starting to think ur just clumsy. Kyle: holy shit you’re not a bot! let’s goooo you: a bot? you really thought that? Kyle: when someone has posted pics as cute as yours you cant help but have that worry in the back of your mind 😅 Kyle: or that ur a catfish 🤷‍♂️ you: i promise you im neither. you: and thank you. you’re cute too. Kyle: thats exactly what a bot/catfish would say 🙄 you: well how would a human talk then?? Kyle: cant tell you bc then ur gonna machine learn and start doing it you: well then how else am i supposed to prove im not either?? Kyle: let me take you out. let me get a proper good look at you. you: was that all a ploy to invite me out?? 🫠 Kyle: first time on tinder? you: that obvious huh? Kyle: a little. Kyle: so is that a yes? you: I’ll think about it. Kyle: i can work with that. 🥴 Kyle: hmu whenever youd like. no pressure. 
Maybe you would hit him up later… Once you gained enough courage to go through with the whole ‘rebound’ thing.
Biting your lip, you click off the DMs and return to the Swiping page…
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
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seananmcguire · 2 months
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I know I periodically ask people to look at Alice, but I would like to explain why.
That, above, is Alice when she was just ten days old. It was December 2008, and I had gone to Seattle to prepare to die. I was tired, I was dealing with a massive disruption in my social circle, and I was done. So I went to see friends, and to say my goodbyes before I went home and politely made my exit. I had a fully articulated plan, and no desire to tell people about it, which is not a good place to be.
Then we went to visit Betsy, who had recently ushered a litter of kittens into the world. And she put this little blue tabby potato in my hand and said "That's the girl."
And just like that, I decided to live. "Do you take checks?" I replied, and Alice entered my life.
(That makes it sound much easier than it was. Betsy was intending to keep Alice, who was without flaw by Maine Coon breed standards. Seriously, she was the kind of cat breeders work to produce for their entire careers. I spent two months wearing Betsy down before she agreed to let me have her.)
Alice was my first Maine Coon. Alice was my heart and soul somehow walking around outside of my body. She was without flaw. She was everything I wanted in this world, and she loved me as much as I loved her, and I would happily trade a year of my life for another hour with her in my arms.
In 2017, I went to Australia as a convention guest, and when I came home, Alice wasn't right. She was always food-motivated, and she was refusing to eat. I made a vet appointment immediately, and we started the necessary tests to find out what was wrong. Roughly a month later, while I was at another convention, my vet called me.
"I am so so sorry," she said, and the world ended.
Alice had large-cell feline lymphoma. It wasn't a surgically treatable cancer; we were going to have to go through chemo, and hope. So we did. And we did everything it was possible to do. Thanks to my Patreon, there was never a point where I had to decline treatment due to money, and I know what an incredible gift that was. Bit by bit, she faded, but she was still my Alice, and we were still fighting.
Then, on February 13th, 2018, I woke up and she was stretched out along my side from hip to knee, making the worst sound I have ever heard every time she took a breath. I didn't want to let her go. I could no longer make her stay. We left for the vet immediately, and my oncologist agreed that she was done; she was ready to go, and the last gift she gave me was staying by my side, not running and hiding like most cats would.
I held her. I sang "Beautiful Beast" for her. And she went ahead of me to the clearing at the end of the path, to the place she stopped me from going.
I miss her more than I knew I could miss anything in this world. She was my best friend and my favorite thing, and my mother told people I'd lost a child to explain why I would just wander around, dead-eyed and sobbing. Alice saved me when I didn't think it was possible, and I'm grateful; I have no such plans at this point.
But fuck my poor, broken heart, I just want her to come home. And in the absence of that as an option, I want everyone to look at Alice.
Please look at my poor girl.
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trivia-yandere · 4 months
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tape
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before leaving for college jungkook doesn't know when he'll see you again after this week and wants something to remember you by… @mother2monsters @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @yoongiwantsme @chimmisbae @whipwhoops @prettyxxxplease
word count: 1.969
warning: car sex, pseudo incest, oral sex, smut, dirty talking, protected/unprotected sex, coercion, handjob, manipulation, creampie, video taping, dub-con,
series masterlist | part one | part three
“You don’t have to record everything.” you say, panting. Your eyes, glossy and full of tears, glance up at Jungkook who’s heaving. “You have enough content.”
Jungkook blinks his eyes a bit to look at you - cheeks puffy, eyes glossy and lips wet with saliva. Your hand softly strokes his cock as you await your answer. 
“Of course I do.” Jungkook responds. He places his hand on top of your head, glancing up at the camera shining directly at the two of you. “Who knows when we’ll be doing this next.”
Jungkook loved taking pictures of you - he made it a routine. It was easier, of course, because you were his (step) sister. He took pictures of you randomly around the house, sometimes some of you and him together. At school when the two of you were together, he’d snap some pictures and it was never considered weird because you were his sister.
Some pictures were just for Jungkook’s eyes only - the ones where he would sneak up on you in the shower or the pictures he would capture while you were beneath him. You allowed him to take pictures of your naked body because he promised it was just for him to see - and it was kept privately hidden deep in his phone that only he had the access to.
Jungkook wanted something to remember you by - something that he could look back on. It wasn’t like you had an illness that was so incurable that you’d die - or that he was going off to war to never see you again. You and he were both going to college; separate ones. 
And as months went by and graduation had come and gone, he knew he only had a limited amount of time with you.
Jungkook wanted more and more pictures and videos of you - whatever he could get. He took every chance he got to shine his camera in your face especially while you were so fucked out and moaning his name desperately. 
Tonight was no different. This was going to be your last night with Jungkook and then you’d be on your way off to prepare for your college move-in day and soon, he’d do the same. 
You snicker. “We won’t be doing this again.” you say, feeling his lips kiss on your neck. “I’m going to college and so are you.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Jungkook murmurs. He’s glad that you’ve already discarded your shorts long ago - all he had to do was push your panties aside or rip them off (whichever was easier). “You’re only a three hour drive away.”
“Driving three hours away for pussy is insane.” you respond, feeling Jungkook’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass. Your tongue swirls on the tip of his cock, eyebrows raising.
“Allowing me to fuck you in my car in the middle of an empty parking lot is also insane.” Jungkook retorts with a sudden chuckle. He licks his lips as he watches you. “Allowing me to fuck you at all is insane…yet we do it.”
You roll your eyes but even you could agree with Jungkook. You had allowed him to get away with a lot - taking your virginity months prior was one of them; allowing him to continue to fuck you was another. 
But you told yourself that this was just something you were going to do for now and take to your grave - as would Jungkook. 
You don’t respond and instead decide it was better to continue your sucking. You take Jungkook back fully into your mouth.
You recall the first time you’ve done this and how horribly it was. But that didn’t make you stop - you were determined to know how to do so before college and Jungkook was the perfect candidate. “Add a little pressure to it…” Jungkook had said, wrapping his own hand around yours to guide you. He then begins to guide your closed fist up and down onto his cock. “You don’t have to go too fast, but anything slower than this is a bore…” he instructs, eyelids watching you as you get the hang of how exactly he wanted you to jack him.
Jungkook adored having to teach you how to pleasure him - you were such a curious person and naturally, like him, always strived to be better. It was a matter of time until you knew exactly what to do with your hands and mouth to get his toes curling and his legs shaking.
You bring Jungkook out of your mouth to pump him a bit - your touch was his favorite. Your hands are always soft and gentle, even when you wrap them firmly around his cock. Your tongue circles the tip of his cock, eyes watching his every reaction. You run your tongue over the swollen head, passing his slit with each lick. You enjoyed watching Jungkook become the submissive one who depended on you for pleasure - thighs shaking, mouth agape and releasing such filthy moans. 
There’s a salty taste on your tongue and you know it’s precum instantly. 
“You’re teasing me.” Jungkook grumbles, gripping your hair slightly. 
“We have all night.” you say, muffled. “What’s the rush?”
“I want to fuck you now.” Jungkook responds, voice deep and pleading. “We have to be home in an hour anyways. You know how dad is.”
You release the tip and watch his cock spring back, pre-cum and saliva dripping from it. “Fine.” you tell Jungkook, already lifting from your position to sit in his lap. “Where’s the condom?”
Jungkook always came prepared, going through his pockets to remove the small, golden square package. He hastily rips it open and discards the package lazily beside him. You’re hovering above him, waiting for him to put the condom on.
“Okay.” Jungkook places his hands upon your hips, guiding you down towards his cock. 
You release a low sigh when Jungkook enters you fully, your walls automatically clenching around him. Even with the amount of times the two of you had fucked, you could never become accustomed to him inside of you.
Jungkook, however, is inpatient. He wastes no time in placing his hand beneath your thighs and thrusting upwards. He assures you’re in line of vision with the camera - he needed good material masturbation while you were away.
Jungkook is a greedy person, he wants all of you. As he continues his thrusting inside of you, your breast bounces in his face, the tank top not being able to hold them any longer. As your breast spills out, Jungkook takes the opportunity to pop a nipple into his mouth.
“You’re so deep…” you moan, your nails digging into Jungkook’s shoulders for support. His breathing increases, his tongue suckling on your nipples needily and his hands go to grip your ass.
Jungkook pushes you away slightly, you now lean between the passenger and driver seats. Jungkook groans as he watches you - so fucked out and full of lust. He begins to thrust, his hand against your stomach for support.
“Your pussy’s so wet, Y/N.” Jungkook scoffs, eyes glancing at how good you were milking him; it’s almost a shame he wore a condom. He couldn’t imagine how heavenly you felt bare. “It’s because you love me that it’s like this.”
Jungkook loves touching your bare skin and his hands never settle on anything for long. He grips your breast as he fucks into you, he holds your neck, your waist - whatever. Now, his hands trails down slowly, thumb pressing firmly against your clit. 
Jungkook hisses, “So, so, wet.” he twirls his thumb against your clit, only fucking into you deeper. “Aren’t you going to miss me, Y/N? You’ll be going to college and sex would never be the same with anyone else.”
Maybe Jungkook was selfish, he’s admitting to it. But he could never fathom anyone else having you in these positions - no other man getting to have their face between your legs or getting to touch the soft, gentle skin of your body. Another guy didn’t deserve to feel how wet and tight you were, or hear your soft, sweet moans.
You yelp when you feel a hand around your neck - and it causes you to clench even tighter around Jungkook. He was angered now at just the thought of you leaving him and allowing someone else to do what he could do to you with such love and care. 
“You’re such a whore, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, pounding into you angrily. Your moans increase, along with the squelching of your pussy. “How many guys are you planning on fucking?”
Jungkook’s grip on your neck grows tighter at your response. “However many I feel like.”
You loved teasing Jungkook ever since the pair of you were children. He rarely gave you a reaction until now and you were going to milk it. 
“So does anyone get to feel your pussy?” Jungkook snarls, releasing your neck to hoist you back up. Your arms are holding the passenger seat for support. “I always knew you’d grow up to be a bitch.”
Jungkook’s insult don’t faze you, maybe because he was fucking you entirely too well. You have no control whatsoever and Jungkook has it all. He thrusts roughly inside of you, dark eyes shining in lust and anger; jealousy. His hands roam your body, gripping your breast and suckling your nipples. He bites along your neck and shoulders, hands gripping and slapping your skin.
There’s a kiss pressed firmly against your lips; deep and full of greed. Even now, Jungkook cannot fathom to think about someone else kissing your lips and it angers him to know that it’s something you’re going to allow.
“I want to cum inside of you.” Jungkook releases your lips and pushes you off of him. 
You stumble in the backseat, eyes widening at his request. 
“You can’t-”
“Why not?” Jungkook is already pulling the condom off of him. “It’s not fair you wouldn’t let me. I love you.”
Jungkook discards the condom out of the car carelessly. “Don’t you love me?” Jungkook asks with a tilt of his head. “If you’re going to have sex in college, I should at least be the first one to feel you bare.”
Jungkook hovers above you, wrapping you in an embrace. Your back is towards him and his hand dips between your legs to rub along your clit. Your mind is hazy and you don’t realize that Jungkook is already inching inside of you.
“Your pussy feels so good, Y/N. You love me, right? You’d let me…” Jungkook trails off, entering deeper inside of you. His body shudders at the new feeling that the condom wasn’t allowing him to endure. 
Jungkook begins to thrust, his twirling of your clit never ceasing. Your walls tighten around him heavenly that he never wants this to end. If he could fuck into you like this - raw - the entire night, he would. It’s something he deserved - he was the only person who would ever truly love you.
“Doesn’t it feel good, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs against your ear.
You nod your head hastily. The feeling is new; better. You never felt Jungkook’s bare skin inside of you and now with direct skin to skin, the euphoric sensation increases tremendously. 
Jungkook isn’t going to last long - not when there’s mountains of senses going through him. “Come,” he murmurs against your ear.
You turn your head to face Jungkook and instantly, he presses his lips against yours. His thrusts are sloppy and he’s determined to make you cum alongside him, rubbing along your clit hastily until he feels you trembling beneath him.
Jungkook never came so hard in his life. He’s twitching inside of you, cum reaching deep and even then, the pair of you never cease from kissing.
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forhappysake · 4 months
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Teach Me
A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.
Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint
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The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.
Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 
*Seven weeks later*
Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.
You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.
After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 
He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 
“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 
“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 
The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”
You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 
The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 
As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 
The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 
A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.
Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”
“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 
You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 
You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”
He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 
You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 
Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”
He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 
Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 
He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 
“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.
He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”
You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 
A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 
After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 
You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?
You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 
Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 
From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.
You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 
“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 
You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 
“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 
He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”
“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 
Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 
You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 
He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 
You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”
“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 
You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”
As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 
“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 
“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 
“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 
You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”
A blush spread over your face, “Really?”
He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”
I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 
He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 
“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 
Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 
Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”
Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 
You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 
He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 
“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 
“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 
Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”
You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 
Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 
You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”
He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 
You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”
Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 
You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”
“Why’s that?” he asked. 
“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 
He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 
He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 
You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 
You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 
He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 
You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 
“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 
“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 
He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 
“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 
As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 
“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.
“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”
You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 
He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 
“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 
The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 
“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 
You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 
He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 
The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 
His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 
“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 
Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 
As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 
Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 
You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 
“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 
You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 
He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”
You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 
“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”
You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 
“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 
You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 
A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 
Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 
You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 
Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 
You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 
He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 
Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 
“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 
A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”
You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 
That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 
Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 
You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 
“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 
You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 
You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 
He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 
You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”
“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  
He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 
You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 
After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 
He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  
“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 
“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 
“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.
Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 
“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 
Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”
With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 
You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 
You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 
You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 
“What?” Spencer asked. 
You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 
Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  
“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 
Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 
He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”
“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 
“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”
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shadesoflsk · 2 months
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YOUR? OUR MARGARET
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PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader
SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!
MY MASTERLIST
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Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.
He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.
Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 
He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 
A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.
Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 
However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:
Dada.
Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.
It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 
Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 
So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 
Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.
Peaceful, he liked it. 
But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 
After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 
The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.
At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.
His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.
“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 
“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.
A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.
And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 
Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 
You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.
“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”
“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 
���As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.
She started crying.
You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 
“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 
You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.
“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”
“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.
“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”
“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”
“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.
“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”
It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.
Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.
Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 
However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.
“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 
“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 
Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 
And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 
Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.
He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 
However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 
Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 
He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.
It was as if the universe was against him.
Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.
On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.
“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”
In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.
“I wouldn't like to intrude.”
“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”
Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”
“Are you free this 14th?” 
He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 
Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?
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He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.
The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 
But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 
Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 
Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.
The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.
He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.
The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 
He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.
But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.
He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 
But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.
He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 
Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 
So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.
Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 
He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.
When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.
A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.
“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”
Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 
“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.
“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”
Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.
You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.
“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.
He wants to.
“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 
And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.
“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.
Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 
“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 
“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.
As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 
“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 
You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.
You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 
“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 
Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.
“If you let me.”
Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 
You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.
As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 
Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.
“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 
“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.
If that was even possible.
As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.
You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 
He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.
If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 
Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.
Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.
He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.
Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 
As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.
What's next?
What is he supposed to do now? 
As if on cue, your words break the silence.
“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.
“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”
“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.
“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”
He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.
For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.
Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.
“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 
You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.
As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.
Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.
Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.
The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.
After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.
“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”
He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 
“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 
“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”
“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”
Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.
He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.
And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 
A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—
Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.
He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.
As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.
And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.
The one is indeed not a myth.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)
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💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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earthtooz · 1 year
Note
second chance romance with sae. write it.
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x : WITH(OUT) :*+゚
in which: after a messy breakup with sae, you find yourself waking up next to him two weeks later, this time just more in love.
warnings: 1.8k words, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, SFW, gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff with quite a bit of angst, a lot of metaphors here and there i apologise if they don't make sense get on my brainwave (nicely), ooc!sae perhaps uhh lol, bad writing, reblogs appreciated!!
a/n: lets see if tumblr community labels this post... sigh. rip first version u were a champ. this is my official claim to become tumblr's sfw itoshi brothers (separate) writer. i've made progress with rin, it's time to show some (reluctant) love to sae!! i literally only wrote this bc @limitlesshq and i had an agreement.
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you wake up due to the rustling beside you, the movement rousing you from your slumber as the world becomes ever so clearer with each millisecond, the drowsy haze wearing off you as you take in your surroundings.
there’s a white ceiling overhead, the mattress beneath you feels like a cloud, and you can’t remember when your sheets turned a shade of gray. no- scratch that, you can’t remember when your mattress became this soft. 
hold on.
this wasn’t your room and the mop of magenta hair lying atop your chest is an indicator of such.
you’re in bed with a soccer star who just so happens to be the ex you messily broke up with two weeks ago. he’s wrapped around you like nothing had ever happened; as if you two were still in love and devoted to one another and hadn’t shouted at each other to the point that your throats were sore for a days afterwards. 
you needed to get out of here which was something easier said than done. especially when you had itoshi sae lying on top of you, wrapping you in a vice grip as he sunk further and further into your warmth, chest methodically rising up and down. you want to slap him for being so peaceful in this very moment. that should be you but instead, you’re panicking and trying to avoid another messy scene with your ex. 
the fact that said-ex was itoshi sae too… goodness what have you gotten yourself into. you should get out of here before it’s too late.
slowly, you begin to shuffle away, trying to pull yourself away from sae’s grasp. 
you’re halfway out when you hear the magenta-haired whine quietly, the sound causing you to turn your head and look at him. it’s to your horror that you’re greeted by a pair of hazy, turquoise eyes, still groggily waking up as sae tries to adjust to his bearings. he blinks a few times, waking up a little more with each flutter.
“where are you going?” he asks, voice hoarse from unuse. his arm tightens ever so slightly around you, pulling you back towards him and completely ruining your efforts.
you’re stunned, unsure of how to respond as sae tucks himself into your chest, breathing you in.
you hate the way you feel your heart lurch in your chest, rapidly beating with the urge to be as close as possible to him. this feels like a life you once knew, especially when his fingers start running up and down your spine, nimbly finding their way under your shirt. 
“sae,” you breathe out and his ministrations stop, diverting all of his attention upon you. “i have to go.”
he groans his protest, shaking his head. “why?”
“i just have to.”
“no.”
“what?”
“stay.”
“what?”
“did you not hear me? i said stay.”
just to prove his point a little more, he puts even more of his weight on you, tangling his legs with yours as if rooting you to his mattress. ever so demanding, he is.
the breakup was disastrous and entirely hurtful, wrecking you from the inside out when you woke up the next morning registering the previous night. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so heartbroken and it hurt even more with every trace of sae that remained in your apartment. looking back, perhaps it was a little naive to believe that he was the one for you, that he was your endgame and not simply another lesson to heal from. all that time spent in a relationship, crumbled thanks to an argument that lasted for three hours and ended with a decisive slam of his door. 
yet just when you thought you were making process on the journey away from him, sae finds a way to pull you back in.
“i can’t stay,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky.
the magenta-haired looks up at you, apathetic eyes boring into yours. “but why?”
“i just- i just can’t. thank you for letting me stay over but i’m going to go home now-”
fingers thread through yours and sae’s hand pulls yours closer towards him. a pair of warm lips press themself to your skin and linger there as if burning and branding you- all of you, as his. 
he then kisses each of your fingers delicately and softly. “don’t go,” he mutters between pecks.
you feel a little breathless. like he’s punched your gut with every piece of gentle affection he plants, twisting the knife he had stabbed in your chest two weeks ago deeper and deeper, reopening the raw wound of hurt and pain with unmatched love.
you need to leave before anything else can happen, before you begin breaking down in front of him. 
quickly shuffling away from the athlete, you abruptly pull your hand out of his, throwing the covers off of you. however quick you may have been though, sae is undeniably faster, his hands crossing the distance to pull you back. his strength forces you to sit down once more and you bounce a little from the soft impact. he drapes himself around you again, chin resting on your shoulder. 
“let me go,” you plead, putting your hands over his wrists as if trying to pry them off but you feel too much for sae to truly try and resist him. his spell, no matter how hard you try to fight back, is just as potent. 
you fear that you may never be immune to his poison. 
he begins trailing kisses along your skin, uncharacteristically affectionate. “i can’t,” he begins, voice wavering uncharacteristically, traces of heartbreak evident in his tone. this display of emotion shocks you endlessly and you stop fighting against him, freezing when you feel his breath shudder against your skin.
your heart is thumping heavily, causing your chest to clench.
"stop messing around, we-"
"i'm not messing around just stay," he hushes gently, "please."
you feel the world stop for a second. sae? pleading? he knew how to do that? the prospect of sae beseeching for anything was incredibly unfamiliar and the fact that his voice cracked merely proves how entirely unfamiliar the word was in his vocabulary. 
the love you feel for him will choke you before heartache does. unbeknownst to you, a tear begins sliding down your cheek and you don’t feel it until it’s halfway down.
“hey, hey, hey,” the magenta-haired mumbles, catching the tear with his thumb. “don’t cry.” 
he sounds so tender and doting it hurts. there’s so much love in the way he’s holding you, pressing himself closer to you with each minute as if he hates the idea of being too far away from you, as if he was trying to make sure that you were still the same love of his life from before he hurt you tremendously, as if he was committing you to memory before he does lose you forever.
but he doesn’t want that. he wants to stay with you. sae doesn’t think he can handle another day without you, that’s why he’s so stubborn to keep you here; to put you under his spell again so that you could feel an ounce of the love he has stored for you. so that this love has somewhere to go before it inevitably ruins him, punishing him for being so stupid. 
“i’m sorry,” whispers sae hurriedly. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry pretty, don’t cry.”
glancing away from him, you wipe away any remaining tears, inhaling deeply as to try and collect yourself with whatever willpower you had left.
"i need to leave," you murmur, not entirely meaning it.
"no you don't," he answers, entirely meaning it. "just stay until breakfast or something."
wordlessly, you fall back in his grasp, leaning into the athlete when you feel rapid beating against your arm. that’s when you realise that it wasn’t your racing heart… it was his. 
giving in to his desires, you tuck your legs back up on the bed and he manoeuvres you, practically cradling you whilst you find solace in his neck with your arms wrapped around his torso. here, you feel whole again. 
you’ve lived life with sae and without sae and you now know well enough to prefer the former. something tells you he feels the same too. 
“are you going to stay for breakfast?” he asks after a few minutes of simply soaking up the other’s presence. glancing up at him, his expression remains beautifully neutral, illuminated perfectly by the bright morning light that seeps through his windows. he’s radiant, gorgeous as ever. 
you hum against his skin. “i’m not too sure. i was going to leave before breakfast.”
“let’s go back to sleep then. i’m not hungry anymore.”
amused by his request, you agree nonetheless and sae is able to move the both of you around to the same positions you had woken up in with you on your back and him on top of you. the soccer player then pulls you closer and throws his leg over your hips- something he does to keep you in your spot so you won’t slip away from him again.
you won’t. you don’t want to leave and live a life without him. 
“are we back together?” you hesitantly ask. the question floats into the tranquil air, afraid to break whatever quiet, ecstatic haze you were both in but you need to know.
“will you take me back?” the soccer player counters, surprisingly shy and unsure, so unlike the arrogant sae you’re used to. he’s putting all the cards on your table despite knowing what he wants because although he wants to be with you for eternity and a little longer after that, it’s up to you to decide whether or not he deserves such a paradise.
sae can only hope you’re merciful. 
“i want to. i miss ‘us’, i miss you.” 
he immediately feels a heavy weight lift itself off and the exhale the magenta-haired lets out communicates his magnitude of relief. fate has saved him today. 
“good.” is all he says as your hands rise to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. “be here when i wake up.”
“so demanding,” you joke with a smile, “but okay.” 
as sae dozes off once more, you take the time to scan around his room once more whilst trying to lull yourself into dreamland as well. 
his decor had always been rather plain and it didn’t change until you started dating. remnants of you have been lingering around his place and you’re surprised he didn’t get rid of them the night you left out of rage. a little nanodroid that you gave him of a character from an anime you both like sits on his shelf, there’s that little fake plant on his desk, and there are still photos of you two on his dresser. 
he used to only have one pillow and the only reason he bought more was so you could sleep over comfortably. you don’t think too hard about the lingering smell of sae’s shampoo on the pillows that you had previously claimed as ‘yours’.
shifting a little so that you were comfortable, you gaze up at sae’s ceilings once more. a gentle smile makes its way to your face before you doze off peacefully knowing that two hearts have found their way back home. 
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lalacliffthorne · 8 months
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📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃
Azriel x Reader
summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.
notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!
so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there´s smut. steamy steamy smut.
______________________________________________________________
the basic rules of friendship
no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).
Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn´t convey my current thoughts.
Someone help me.
" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.
Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.
The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.
But it just didn't click.
There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.
There was just something missing.
The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -
Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.
Gods, what was wrong with me?
The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.
But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, and a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.
Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering behind me.
Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.
The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.
"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.
I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.
Though he did look very uncomfortable.
"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.
One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.
"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.
The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.
And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.
The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.
"Is there something wrong with me?"
Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide-
Hastily, I widened my eyes.
"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."
The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.
"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.
"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.
"Is there? Something wrong with me?"
Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.
I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"
Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes moved over me for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.
Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."
"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"
Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."
I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.
Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."
Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."
I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.
"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."
no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.
“What the fuck was that?”
The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.
Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“
“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“
“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”
“And you didn't!” Azriel´s voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave, you could've died!”
“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.
“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”
Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.
“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.
“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.
“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.
Everything.
Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.
“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.
“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.
“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.
“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.
no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.
That was it.
Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my high heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.
Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-
I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and how my eyes widened. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.
Azriel raised a brow at me.
“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his golden eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.
Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.
Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.
Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.
Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.
I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”
Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.
“No, wait –“
The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.
My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.
“Are you serious?”
Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”
I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.
“All set?”
Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple and causing something to flutter gently against my ribs, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my throat.
Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Alright, ready.”
There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.
I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.
“We're walking?”
From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.
“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”
I raised my head quickly to glower at him.
“That was one time."
"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.
I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.
“Unlikely.”
I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”
“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”
I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.
Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.
The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.
“What?”
I shrugged.
“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.
Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –
One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.
“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“
The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.
Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.
I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.
“I really don't like you."
no. 4: friends spend quality time together.
Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.
My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -
Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.
My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.
"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"
Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.
The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.
The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.
But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.
Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, and the dark lashes framing them under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. And they were staring up at mine. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his chest was, pressed against mine.
My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.
I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.
Right under my ass.
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who'd completely frozen beneath me as my heart suddenly thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.
"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.
The next second, I was pushed around, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.
"Got you."
I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling around his shoulders. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.
I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.
no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).
Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.
My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -
My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.
My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.
A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.
There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.
"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."
Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.
"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.
There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.
There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.
Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.
Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.
His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.
no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).
Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently press against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly on the steps and the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinking softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.
It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.
Hopefully the latter.
Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.
"Are you ready?"
Ready as ever.
"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."
Feeling my lips quirk as I sent an enthusiastic mental thumbs up her way and hearing her laugh, I raised my head.
My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.
Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.
"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve in a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last step.
Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.
My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.
Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.
The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.
Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.
Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught on in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.
His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest. The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.
Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.
With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.
Feyre stilled for just a second when her eyes moved over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows. "You two ready?"
Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.
The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to Feyre either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.
His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.
Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.
"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.
Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.
Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.
"You look hot."
I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."
Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.
no. 7: friends don't kiss.
Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.
He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.
Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."
Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.
Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.
"What are you doing here?"
Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.
"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can´t sleep."
I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."
Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."
"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.
Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.
"Oh, shut up."
The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.
Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.
I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.
Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips rise softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.
Golden eyes stared into mine, lips opened just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.
The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.
I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.
Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.
All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.
That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.
And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.
Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.
"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."
My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."
Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -
His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"
I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.
no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.
My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him afloat, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.
A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.
Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.
My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.
My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.
It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.
It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.
A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and I felt my lips open, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, honeyed iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen. A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.
I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.
My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.
My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -
Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.
I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.
My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.
I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.
My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.
My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press slow, hard kiss against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.
A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.
His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.
Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.
My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.
My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.
My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.
My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.
Azriel moved like a male starving devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.
Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –
His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn´t quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.
The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips fall open at the sight of him.
My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –
The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.
I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.
My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.
My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -
My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumble, the shadowsinger pulled away.
My heart missed a beat, another.
Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.
The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.
Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.
My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -
The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -
Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"
A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.
I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.
My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -
A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.
My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.
My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -
My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.
Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.
Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -
My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.
A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips open when it caused him to slide inside of me.
Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.
Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core. With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together. His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.
Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Az groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.
My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. And I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.
His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.
no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.
When I woke up, Azriel was gone.
Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.
I couldn't have been asleep for long.
A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.
The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.
On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.
Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.
Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran a hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.
Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"
Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.
I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.
Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"
I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.
"You?"
Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.
Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."
Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.
I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.
"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"
I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.
Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.
And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.
Shit.
"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.
"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"
The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like a tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.
"Push what away?"
Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.
Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.
Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his bright eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"
I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.
"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.
"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"
Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.
Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.
Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."
A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.
"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.
"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."
My breath caught in my throat.
Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."
I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."
I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.
My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.
"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.
One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.
"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."
My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.
"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.
I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.
"Now what?"
Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.
"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."
no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.
(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)
@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92
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daycourtofficial · 4 months
Text
I’m Still Bejeweled
Summary: based on this ask - Azriel’s been busy lately with his work, unable to delegate. You’ve had enough and decide to try to get his attention by going out to Rita’s with Mor and Nesta.
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You knew what you signed up for when you started seeing Azriel. You knew at times it would be difficult due to his trauma and his job - which is why it surprised you easy it is to love him.
The past few weeks he has been flooded with work. Azriel is very good at his job, but his biggest flaw is his inability to delegate. You know most of his work right now could easily be delegated to the spies he trains himself, however that doesn’t make it easier for him to actually pass the task off to someone else.
You’re tired of asking him to take a day off, to see him more than at night when he comes to bed. You want to spend time with him outside of your bed, so you and Nesta decided to do something about it.
You were getting dressed, Azriel’s attention never straying from the papers at his desk as you do so. You contemplate the merits of this plan as you put your hair up to show off your neck and shoulders.
You’re wearing a dress Azriel bought you with the intention of taking it off of you. Pitch black, thin straps holding it up on your shoulders, a hemline that barely covers your behind, a triangular cutout across the top to peak at your breasts.
It was a dress that drove him wild - and he wouldn’t even look at you. Putting on your earrings and necklace, you take one final look and head out. Azriel’s attention be damned - you looked hot and you were going to have fun with Nesta and Mor no matter what.
Azriel didn’t look up until you had walked out the door of your room, his shadows urging him to look the whole time you were in the room.
Pretty, pretty, pretty.
Their whispers resounded in his ears, practically begging him to look up. He had gotten used to it over the years he had known you - his shadows thought you were the prettiest thing in the world, constantly annoyed when they couldn’t just look at you all day.
He glanced up in time to see your backside walking out and the realization of what dress you were wearing made him stand up, causing his knees to hit the desk.
He slides out from under the desk, abandoning his report in search of you. He remembered you saying something about Mor - dinner? Dancing?
He can’t recall, but he’s only ever seen you wear that dress to Rita’s, using it to keep him by your side all night. “You’ll have to spend the whole night by my side keeping others males away from me,” you had told him once.
He bats the memory away as he follows your scent through the house, attempting to intercept you before you left. Surely you weren’t leaving dressed like that without him.
Unfortunately Cassian decided to turn the corner at the exact moment Azriel was, causing the two to collide.
“Whoa where’s the fire?” Cassian asks, mocking his brother’s hurried steps. Cassian peers behind himself, at where you had just passed him a moment ago, and chuckles. Azriels growls in response, his instincts dialing up the further away from him you get. Cassian shakes his head and laughs at his brother, thumping his hands on his shoulders as he moves to pass him. “Ah, women. Wonderful creatures.”
Cassian walks away as Azriel continues following your scent. He knows you’re playing some kind of game, teasing him like a cat with a mouse, he just can’t figure out what the game is. He thinks back to your most recent discussions, only to come up a bit blank. His feet move down the steps of the house depositing him to the streets of Velaris, where your scent has mixed with Mor and Nesta’s. He keeps following you, thinking about your last conversation. You had asked him to take the day off, he had declined, keeping focus on the task he was doing.
He stops dead in his tracks, a pedestrian running into him at the abruptness of his stop. Oh Gods, he thinks, I didn’t even look at her. That conversation was days ago, surely he’s spoken to you since? Showed you love and affection?
His mind comes up empty, the days passing by him in a blur of papers and strategizing. When was the last time he kissed you? Held you? Talked to you?
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the Sidra as he picks up his pace again. Azriel has figured out what game you’re playing - you want him to grovel.
For you? Anything. He’d crawl to you if it’s what it took.
The sounds of Rita’s flood your senses as you dance with Mor and Nesta. You know Azriel isn’t purposely ignoring you, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. You decide to let go, enjoy the night, the music, the dancing.
The three of you take the dance floor, getting lost in the sounds, letting go of the stress the week brought. You don’t really even register the male dancing with you until you open your eyes and meet a green gaze.
He smiles at you, reaching out to put his hands on your waist when a larger make intercepts you, pushing the offering male out of the way.
“I believe I have first dance with the lady,” he says to you. The other male throws his hands up in shock, but quickly leaves at seeing the face of the male who took you.
“What’s a beautiful creature like you doing here?”
You turn to look at him, his hungry gaze taking in every inch of your dress. You smirk, staring into the hazel eyes you adore. Azriel has relaxed a bit now that you’re in his arms, a place where he doesn’t have to worry about fighting off other males.
“I was hoping I’d find a male who wants to actually spend time with me. My boyfriend won’t stop working and hardly makes time for me these days.”
You pout a little at him as he comes closer, swaying with the music a little. “He sounds like a fool, letting you come here alone, not paying you any heed.”
You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol warming your stomach as it went down. “He certainly is a fool. I’m much more interesting than silly reports he has to write.”
He smiles as he looks to the floor. “Can I dance with you?”
You tip your glass up to your mouth, finishing off your drink. “After you buy me another drink.”
He leads you to the bar, ordering what you had just finished off. The bartender hands it to you, and you ask him, “what brings you here?”
He smiles down at you, his hand going around your waist, “I had a feeling I’d find my future wife here tonight.”
You look around the bar, pointing over to the corner where Nesta stands. “Is that her? She looks delightful.”
Azriel follows your finger as Nesta gives him a scowl for 1) his earlier treatment of you and 2) for interrupting girl’s night. He laughs, offering her a two finger salute. She offers one finger in response.
“I am not a strong enough male for her.”
“I don’t think such a male exists.”
You face each other, leaning against the bar.
“What does she think of your inattentive boyfriend?”
You peak over at Nesta, who has moved back to dancing on the floor with Mor. “she thinks he’s usually better than this.”
“Oh?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow at you.
“She likes him a lot, just thinks his priorities weren’t in the right place for the past few weeks.”
He smiles, a hand caressing your waist. “So she likes the two of you together?”
You look into his face, meeting his gaze again. “Oh yeah. Just the other night she got drunk and went on and on to me about how much she liked us.”
His thumb starts grazing across your hip.
“She told me how she loves the way he looks at me.”
“And how does he look at you?”
You smile up at him, “supposedly like I’m the sun and the stars, like the lone light out on the open ocean.”
He smirks, “quite impressive to have him ensnared to you like that.”
Your eyes dance with the light of Rita’s, “I’m a great lay.”
He throws his head back and laughs, squeezing your hips. “Is that it? You seem like much more than that.”
Your hands connect with his hips, “and what do I seem like?”
His eyes have that look that only happens when he’s looking at you, the first of his undivided attention in so long causing you to buzz more than the alcohol could.
“Like what’s the point in doing things if you aren’t there? Like maybe life could be so much more than I ever imagined because of you. Like burdens aren’t so heavy if you’re holding my hand. Like I’ve never really taken a full breath before. You feel like a warm hearth and I’ve spent my entire life afraid of fire, but you taught me it can do more than burn.”
He reaches a hand out, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.
“At least, that’s what you seem like.”
Tears line your eyes at his words. The two of you have been together for years at this point, so his devotion is no secret. He was a man of few words, but he opened up to you more and more as time goes on. He whispers sweet words to you all the time, but never in such a public place.
He holds your face in his hands, so softly, as if he could shatter you.
“I would crawl home to you.”
You can’t take it anymore - this game, Rita’s, the hands on your hips. You surge forward, pulling his hips to you and your lips meet his. You pour everything into the kiss, pour everything into him. The neglect you’ve felt, the love you feel for him, how badly you want things to be okay.
The kiss starts off slow and hungry, his lips soft against your own. As it continues, it becomes more ravenous and harsh, and by the time you come up for air he’s winnowed the two of you home.
Your shared bedroom is dark and cold, but your body heat quickly warms the room. Azriel puts a hand on your jaw as he kisses down your neck, soft, delicate kisses.
“I’m sorry,” he says, a kiss between each word. “I neglected you.”
He pulls his head up to look at you. “Sometimes I’m still that little boy, unable to use his hands, feeling I need to prove myself to have a spot somewhere.”
He sighs, his grip tightening on you to remind himself that you’re here.
“Sometimes I just… feel like I have to keep proving myself to my family and that’s why I overwork myself.”
You touch his jaw, a movement he leans into. “You never have to prove yourself to me. And I promise - no one will find you unworthy if you delegate and take days off.”
He smiles into your hand. “And if they do - they’ll have to deal with me.”
He laughs fondly, “my attack dog girlfriend.”
You balk at his clear teasing. “I’ll have you know I’m quite scary and strong. In your absence these weeks I’ve been training with Cassian.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “and have you beaten Cassian in a fight?”
“No,” you sigh, “but once I was able to pants him, pushed him over and ran away.”
He throws his head back laughing, “well let’s hope any naysayers will be wearing pants for this altercation.”
You capture his laugh in a kiss, knowing that you’ve made progress with him. It will take time for him to learn how to delegate, but you feel confident he’ll get there.
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