#(AND WOULD CUT IT OFF BEFORE HE COULD OPEN HIS EYES also he was upside down in this clip aha)

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

Saw requests opened for Kurt and was wondering if you were interested in writing something for x-2 Kurt. Something like the reader is Charles' daughter, who left years before after a massive fight, and when Storm and Jean go to find Kurt, they also find the reader and it is revealed at some point the reader and Kurt are married and everyone is shocked because they are so different( maybe the reader is a necromancer(if a mutation needs to be mentioned)). Hope this isn't as confusing as I think it's coming off. Describing things is not my strong suit. Thank u

Against all Odds

Alan!Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 4.6K A/N: This took so incredibly long?! Really hope it was worth it. I also feel like I kind of messed up in the end, but I wanted to post it anyway.

It wasn't a smile that was on Jean's lips as Ro turned back to the centre of the church with misty eyes, but it was fascinating to see how quickly her friend could change from nice to scary. A strong wind blew up and caused the tarpaulins in the church to flutter. Pigeons soared as Ro spread her arms, eyes fixed on the bar above them, where the teleporter they had been searching for was perched.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, getting closer and closer, until seemingly out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning flashed through the room and struck the bar he was perched on. A scream escaped him as he fell, but before he could teleport away, Jean raised her hand, catching the mutant in mid-air.

His heavy breathing echoed off the walls and Jean twisted her hand slightly as she stepped closer, causing him to spin in the air.

"Got him?" Jean smiled at Ro from the side. "He's not going anywhere."

By now he was hanging upside down in the air, which allowed them to take a closer look at his face. His blue skin stood out clearly from his strange clothes and his golden eyes travelled rapidly around the room, wide open in panic. "Please, don't hurt me," he pleaded softly, still out of breath. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Ro raised an eyebrow beside her and the sarcasm in her voice highly amused Jean, despite the tense situation. "Where could people have gotten that impression from?" His eyes continued to dart back and forth between them.

"What's your name?"

Before he could answer, however, it became freezing cold in the church. Jean's gaze flew over to Ro, who shook her head. This was not her doing. Her breath became visible and a glance at the mutant in front of them showed her that it wasn't him, but he knew whose doing it was.

All at once she heard whispering. It wasn't much at first, just a lone voice that quickly swelled into a jumble of voices that gave her a headache. There was a cracking sound, similar to breaking bones, and Jean could see Ro turning round, looking for the source of the noise.

"Put me down, please." His voice was calm and he didn't seem remotely afraid, much more concerned for her well-being. "She's not in a good mood today, I don't want to..." Jean would never know what he didn't want, because at that moment a loud, cold, cutting voice echoed through the room.

"How dare you?" It was no more than a hiss, but it echoed off the walls, making it louder many times over. "How dare you threaten him, hurt him, touch him." The voice seemed to come from a corridor next to the altar and it sounded shockingly familiar to Jean, even if she was unable to determine exactly where. The floor began to shake beneath them, cracks appearing across the stone, and Jean had to lean on one of the benches to keep from falling.

The man, still in the air, shouted something she couldn't understand. It made no difference. Jean reached out in her mind for the person, hoping to reach them, but to her surprise was pushed out with a sharp push that gave her another headache. The tremor intensified, but Jean was not afraid. The small glimpse into the person's mind was enough for her to recognise them.

"Reaper, that's enough!" The tremors subsided and the cracks stopped spreading, but the whispering and rustling remained, as did the cold. She looked over to the corridor, from which a shadow finally emerged, slowly approaching. Jean had already realised who it was, but she couldn't truly believe it until the light shining through the church hit her face. Next to her, she heard Ro gasping for air. "Reaper?" A hiss sounded from the woman in front of them, who was now standing almost directly behind the man. "I haven't been a the Reaper for years." Her head turned to Jean. "Now put him down."

Her voice was pressed, almost threatening, and Jean lowered the man carefully. As soon as his feet touched the ground, she stepped to his side and wrapped an arm around him as he slumped to the floor, groaning, taken by the stress Jean had put on him. As she murmured something to him, to which he only nodded, Jean noticed how the whispering slowly subsided and the coldness receded. She glanced at Ro. Neither of them had expected this, not even the professor.

~**~

She knelt beside him, her arm on his back, and let her eyes wander over his body, looking for wounds, but couldn't see any. "I told you not to do anything stupid," she murmured, smiling slightly at him. "I can't let you out of my sight now, can I?" His smile was half-hearted, but he returned it. "I'm sorry, Liebling."

Tenderly, she ran her fingers over his cheek, the symbols of his skin under her tips so familiar by now that she could draw them in her sleep. "It's okay, I'll take care of it." She tried to get up, but he held her back by her wrist. "Don't do anything stupid." She smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. " Oh, I won't."

Kurt grinned slightly and let go of her wrist so that she could stand up. As soon as she turned to the two women, however, her loving smile turned into a mask of coldness. "What do you want?"

Jean stepped lightly on her, disbelief still clearly present on her face. "How long have you lived here? Where have you been? Why-?" She didn't let the redhead finish. "You know exactly why," she hissed quietly, clenching her fists as she slowly pushed herself in front of the injured Kurt. "What I want to know is why you're here?" Jean, still somewhat taken aback, didn't seem to want to answer as Ororo stepped forward instead. "We're here because of him." She nodded over to Kurt. "Your friend has done some things that have put us all in danger."

By now her fingernails were cutting into her palms and she looked at the white-haired woman with narrowed eyes. "You will not touch him. You will not hurt him." The ground began to shake beneath her feet again and she could see the two women exchanging glances, but she didn't care. If necessary, she would fight them both - even if Kurt didn't like it, she would do it on sacred ground.

No one would snatch Kurt from her a second time, no one. Not her, not the government, not anyone else. "He's innocent. Go!" It wasn't a plea and her voice was clearly dripping with venom, which was why Jean raised her hands. "We don't want to hurt him, just talk. Whether you want to realise it or not, he did attack the President of the United States."

She heard Kurt flinch and anger boiled up inside her. It had been a long time since Kurt had even been able to look her in the eye and she wasn't going to let them put the burden of guilt on his shoulders again.

"He's innocent," she hissed and more cracks began to appear across the marble tiles in the floor, though it all came to an end the moment something tentatively wrapped itself around her wrist. Kurt had his tail wrapped around and was shaking his head tentatively. "Please, don't."

Instantly, the hot knot of anger in her stomach disappeared and she could feel her features soften. "Okay." Her gaze slid back to the two women, cold and unyielding, but no longer murderous. "Go, please. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't hurt a fly. Please." She didn't give either of them another glance as she helped Kurt up and led him over to the altar, where he settled down, groaning slightly. She knew that both Jean and Ororo were still in the church, even approaching, but her priority was to tend to Kurt.

She gently helped him out of his coat, jacket and shirt, the latter stained with blood, and shook her head at the sight before her. The security guard's bullet wound was on his arm, but she could see several bruises and smaller wounds scattered across his torso. "You really need to take better care of yourself," she muttered as he lay down and she began to search in her pockets for the disinfectant and cotton pads.

Kurt gave her a weak but sincere smile. "But I have you to fix me up." She gave him a small smile, though she knew she wouldn't be able to remove the worry from her face. Continuing to ignore the two women, she dipped the cotton ball with the tweezers into the disinfectant and looked over at him. "This is going to hurt."

His tail wrapped around her waist and squeezed lightly and confidently. Carefully, though not hesitantly, she pressed the cotton ball onto his wound. His body tensed, stiffened and his back arched up from the altar. A pained groan escaped him and she closed her eyes for a moment so as not to see the agony on his face. It had been five years and she still couldn't bear to see him hurt and in pain.

"It's all right, you're doing great," she murmured and hurried to clean the wound as best she could. Thank goodness the wound wasn't deep, so there was no need for stitches. "Good boy." He snorted in amusement, albeit painfully, and she gave him an equally pained smile.

She gently lifted the cotton pad and another hiss escaped him, which she tried to calm by making soothing noises. She applied the bandage as quickly as she could, even though he still let out the odd groan of pain, but he seemed to grit his teeth. " You see? Already over." She leant forward and pressed a feather-light, barely perceptible kiss over the bandage. "I need to take all this away and get you some new, clean clothes. Can I-?"

She didn't finish the sentence, but a twitch of her eyes in the direction of the two women was enough to convey what she wanted to say. Kurt smiled slightly and gave a barely perceptible nod. "You go ahead. They won't hurt me."

She seemed to look sceptical, which she was, as he groped for her hand and took it in his. "It's okay, Liebling. I can take care of myself." "We've seen that," she murmured, but stroked his forehead affectionately before standing up and glaring at Ro and Jean. "I'm right next door. If one of you even thinks about hurting or touching him, you'll more than regret it." She didn't have to look at them to know that they'd heard her warning, the tension radiating from them a clear sign that the message had been received.

Kurt mumbled something quietly, but it was in German and her knowledge was not yet good enough to understand him at such a mumbled volume. She contented herself with running her hand through his hair and affectionately tugging at a strand in warning before leaving the room.

The rubbish was quickly disposed of and on her way back she grabbed some fresh clothes, hurrying back as fast as she could. Once there, she was disgruntled to realise that Ororo and Jean had moved closer and were now standing right next to him. She could just hear the last words coming out of the redhead's mouth. "- the professor."

Instantly she tensed, still covered by the shadows of the pillars. It didn't take a telepath to know who they were talking about and she didn't like it at all. She had managed without him for five years and she wouldn't need him now.

Kurt, however, seemed curious as he cocked his head slightly. "The professor?" Neither of them answered his question, instead Ororo gently ran her fingers over his torso. Instantly, her grip tightened around his clothes and she had to suppress a snarl. She wasn't territorial or some other primitive instinct, but she didn't like it when people touched Kurt without asking him. Especially when it came to his scars, which were more than a weak spot for him.

"Did you do these yourself?" She closed her eyes, hesitant as to whether she should intervene. It wasn't up to her to talk about it, it was Kurt's business and she didn't want to come across as any more overprotective than she already was, so she continued to keep to the shadows. The rising whispers, however, were hard to ignore.

Kurt didn't seem to want to talk about it though, as he gave nothing more than a faint "yes" before turning round. She slowly emerged from the shadows, but not before Jean had discovered something on the back of his neck. "And what about this?"

"I told you it wasn't his fault." Her voice was sharper and colder than she intended, but she couldn't suppress it any longer as she stepped forward and placed herself between Kurt and the two women.

She hated it when Kurt had to talk about his scars, knowing full well what they meant to him. They had talked about it often and at length, especially coming from her, as such behaviour could not be healthy and it hurt her to see him in pain.

The last scar had been added four years ago. For her sake and after a few hours of intense conversation, which led him to a realisation, he had stopped.

"Mind control?" Jean asked, but she turned her back to her to stroke Kurt's arm reassuringly. "I suppose so. We don't know who, though, so don't bother asking."

There was silence while Kurt changed, supported by her. Jean only spoke up again when Kurt was able to stand next to them.  "Come with us." She laughed snidely. "You're not serious, are you? You know what happened, you know why I left and yet you want to drag me back? Forget it." Kurt's tail wrapped itself gently around her middle and the tip ran soothingly over her side as he felt the floor begin to shake.

"The whole United States is after your friend," Ororo objected and she felt Kurt flinch.

"Let them try," she growled, reaching for Kurt's sleeve. "They won't get him. I won't let them."

"We're just trying to help." Ororo sounded almost desperate, but she knew no mercy as her cold laughter echoed off the walls. "Oh yes, of course. The noble help of you fine people. Our saviours are here, we don't have to worry anymore."

"Liebling," Kurt murmured and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked over at him and realised with a mixture of surprise and dismay that he didn't seem as opposed to the idea as she was. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" She stiffened, anticipating the direction the conversation would take and not liking it at all.

"Kurt, you can't be serious," she hissed, turning away from the two women. "I've told you several times why I left, why I never want to go there again."

"And I understand that," he returned, his tail detaching from her to twitch nervously behind him. She instantly missed his closeness. "And under different circumstances, I would agree with you and watch you chase them away. But the situation has changed. I'm wanted all over the United States. And even if we're not there right now, they'll find me, find us." He stroked her cheek gently. "And I don't like the idea of you getting hurt because of me."

"I wouldn't care. I'd fight them all," she returned, knowing it was useless. "I don't want to. I don't want you to fight for me."

She closed her eyes in agony. "Darling-"

"I know," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. "I know it's not fair and I'm sorry. But I just want you to be safe. Please." There was something so pleading about his voice that she knew she wouldn't be able to hold out. She still found it hard to admit. "All right," she murmured, feeling Kurt's tail curling up her leg. "But at the slightest sign of danger, we run."

~**~

Of course it became dangerous. And of course they were sitting in an plane at the time, which was threatening to crash, so they couldn't run.

She stared in horror behind her at the gaping hole from which one of the children, she thought her name was Rogue, had just fallen. Kurt squeezed her hand and she spun round to face him. His gaze was pleading and it took no words to understand what he wanted her permission for. She closed her eyes for a moment to stifle the rising panic that threatened to swell inside her before she nodded.

A life was at stake, she couldn't have the luxury of panic. For a fleeting moment, she felt his lips against her forehead before the familiar 'BAMF' sounded and his hand disappeared from hers.

No more than three or four seconds could have passed, but they felt like an eternity before another 'BAMF' sounded and Kurt slammed to the floor of the plane with Rogue in his arms.

She sobbed with relief and forgot for a moment that they were crashing. That was until Jean gasped as the gaping hole behind them began to close of its own accord and the jet slowed down. She didn't have to think long to realise who had caught her so gracefully and she continued to tense up in her seat, even as the jet carefully touched down. It seemed as if her past really was finally coming back to haunt her.

Touching down on Earth, the others began to scurry around Kurt and Rogue and as much as she wanted to get to him, she knew she wasn't going to get there. Instead, she decided to face their welcoming committee.

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement as Erik watched her climb down the ladder towards him. "That I get to see this sight again." A thin line came to her lips, but she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Miracles happen all the time. I never thought I'd see you outside of a plastic cell." His smile turned bitter. "Little Ms Xavier, same mouth as her old man."

"Xavier?" She turned round. The others had left the jet by now, and except for Ororo, Jean and Kurt, the others were staring at her with a variety of emotions on their faces.

Erik stepped closer and her body stiffened. "Yes, Xavier. Don't tell me Reaper didn't tell you about her connection with your dear professor?"

"Don't call me that," she hissed, taking a few steps back so she was standing next to Kurt, whose tail instantly wrapped around her middle. "I left that name behind a long time ago." Erik's gaze lingered on Kurt for a few moments and she didn't like the way he was looking at him. "I can see that."

Before he could talk to her further, however, Ororo stepped forward and his smug smile returned. "I think we should talk." After some back and forth, which she only half-heartedly followed, they seemed to reluctantly agree to follow Erik. She didn't take her eyes off Kurt for a moment. "You scared me to death," she muttered, clutching his arm a little tighter than necessary. "I hate it when you do that."

"I know."

"You did the right thing, though, as much as it makes me sick." She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "I'm proud of you my love." He smiled down at her. "I love you too."

~**~

"Are you sure you're okay?" They stood apart from the others, in the shade of several trees, and she let her hand rest anxiously on his cheek. Kurt turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss against her palm. "I'm fine, love." She exhaled and wrapped her arms around him to hold him closer, to feel him as his heart pounded beneath her fingers. Soothingly, his hand ran over her back as his tail wrapped gently around her. He rested his head on hers.

"I hate it when you're in pain. Even if it's mental."

She had been against Jean rummaging around in his memory from the start, but everyone else, including her husband, seemed to be in favour of it, which was why she had been forced to watch Kurt relive the agonising hours of the last few days. "I know," he murmured, pulling her closer to him. "But I feel fine." There was silence for a while as they stood close together under the trees before she lifted her head.

"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow. Plan or no plan, it always goes wrong. It's kind of a tradition with us." Kurt smiled down at her before taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to them. "I swear I'll do my best not to get hurt." Playfully, the tip of his tail flicked against her cheek. "I have a very good reason to get out of this alive."

"Charmer," she murmured before leaning up and kissing him gently. His response was just as tender. No tongue, no teeth, just gentle, soft love. At least until they were interrupted by a snort. More annoyed than startled, she looked up to see Logan, the grumpy old man, standing there with a cigar in his mouth, scowling at them. "You do realise there are children present?" She huffed and put an arm around Kurt's waist. "I'm pretty sure some of these 'kids' have done worse things than kiss their partners."

"Pretty sure they're not married, though." Her face seemed to look hilarious as he laughed harshly. "Girl, you may wear a lot of rings, but that one does stand out a bit. Plus, the blue elf isn't exactly subtle with the necklace and ring around his neck."

She clicked her tongue in annoyance and only Kurt's hand on her back and its reassuring circles ensured that she didn't immediately go for his throat. "Problem with that?"

"No." Logan turned away, but she knew he was still grinning broadly. "As long as you don't get too freaky. Might be awkward to explain." Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. "I hate him."

"No you don't," Kurt murmured, pulling her closer to him.

~**~

Needless to say, things didn't go according to plan. As good as her judgements have been lately, she could be a fortune teller, she grumbled quietly to herself as she turned the next sharp corner. She and Kurt had been separated and, judging by the noises around them, the situation didn't really look good for them either. However, she could hear the children's voices and ran after them, not only because Kurt was also with them, but because she knew that if she could hear them, the soldiers could too.

Just as she turned the last corner, a scream rang out, followed by gunfire. She stood stock-still and looked at what was happening in front of her for a moment. She had come up behind the soldiers. Opposite her were a group of children trying to hide behind the adults. Jean was supporting a battered-looking Scott, who was about to raise his hand. Next to them stood Logan, a child in his arms, claws raised and a grim snarl on his face.

What drew her focus, however, were the other three people. Ororo, together with Kurt, she almost collapsed in relief at the sight of him uninjured, an older man with a bald head. He looked older and frailer than she remembered, but there was no mistaking who the man was: Charles Xavier. Professor X. Her father.

Her throat tightened and, as if he could sense her presence (which he probably could), his gaze drifted over to her and his eyes widened, his expression slipping. Were those tears that made his eyes sparkle?

The moment didn't last long, however, as the soldiers raised their weapons at that moment - and pointed them at Kurt.

A growl escaped her as every corner of her body was flooded with a tingling power that made the floor shake.

"Get your hands off my husband." Her voice was not her own. It was the voice of the hundreds, thousands of souls that were haunting the place and bending to her will.

Cracks formed across the floor and began to gape open before skeletal hands reached for the sky. The children shrieked, but for the moment she didn't care. Her focus was on the soldiers who had managed to locate the source of the quake as they now looked at her.

Her smile was grim. "He's mine."

A dark fog settled over her before she even dared to fight. She wanted to spare the children the sight. The soldiers shouted orders at each other, and the odd stray shot rang out, but in the end, they had no chance. Her methods were merciful—swift, painless, and non-lethal. When the fog cleared, only a few groaning men lay on the ground. "Reaper?" Scott was the first to find his voice. She smiled slightly at him, though her focus remained on Kurt and her father. "Hey, Scott." "You're married?!" he exclaimed. She groaned, picking up one of the children running towards her. "Of course that's what you're hung up on."

"My love." She had to close her eyes for a moment; the sound of her father's voice was too painfully familiar. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had missed him terribly. "How—?"

"I'm afraid we don't have time for sentimentality." Logan's gruff interruption was a welcome relief. In that moment, she decided Logan was her absolute favorite person. She shot her father a quick sideways glance before starting to walk. "We'll talk later." She could feel his gaze burning into her back the entire way outside.

~**~

It felt strange to be back in the mansion. She refused to call it "home," even though the word often lingered on the tip of her tongue, only to be swallowed back. Her room now faced the courtyard, offering a clear view of the people outside. She had been offered her old room but had firmly declined. Below, she watched Jean, badly injured but alive, being carefully led through the garden by Scott. It had been a close call, but Jean had survived the mission. Not far from her, she saw Hank deep in conversation with Kurt. She couldn't make out their words, but seeing her husband so animated and happy brought a smile to her face.

"Your husband seems to like it here." She wasn't startled when her father's voice came from behind her. She was more surprised that he hadn't approached her sooner, likely giving her space or waiting for a moment when she was alone. "Kurt isn't used to being around so many mutants, especially those with such visible mutations. It's good for him." "So, you're going to stay then?" There it was. The question that had clearly been weighing on him, the one he desperately needed to ask. She tore her gaze away from her husband and turned to face her father, folding her arms.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Everything inside me is screaming to leave this place. And you're not making it any easier." She saw the pain flash across his face, but there was no point in sugarcoating the truth. He knew how she felt, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"You hurt me deeply. More than that. But Kurt loves it here, and I love Kurt." Her eyes bore into his, unflinching. "But I love him more than I despise you." He swallowed hard, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes. "If Kurt wants to stay, I'll stay. For his sake. Not because of you."

[i-cant-sing]

PLS PLS WRITE THE PLATONIC YANDERE MIGUEL OHARA FIC IM BEGGINF 🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️WE NEED MORE PLATONIC FICS OF THIS MAN

(Thank you for reading this and have a great day!!)

I definitely see dad Miguel treating reader like a child, no matter what age you are. You could be a strong, independent woman, and to Miguel... you're a baby🥺 Everytime you get frustrated when he tells you no, or doesn't allow you to do what you want, he thinks you look absolutely adorable, your brows furrowed and your nostrils flared, and Miguel just has to just lean down to your level and you think that he's gonna offer you an explanation and in his mind, he does, but all he really says is-

"I know what's best for you, mija."

And if you dare to say "you're not my dad!", he won't say anything because yeah, you're right, but he will stare at you intimidatingly until you either take your words back or change the topic.

I think Miguel is not someone who talks much (but he still expects you to converse with him regularly) and so when he doesn't wanna argue with you, he may or may not shoot a web to seal your lips shut, just so that you give him enough time to explain (which again he doesnt), but he does use this time to tell you that you're grounded and then again, uses his strength against you to pick you up like a little bratty kitten and drop you back to your room.

I also think that Miguel definitely sees you as this helpless creature that would absolutely DIE without him. It doesn't matter if you're a spider-person like him, no. To him, you're just a frail kitten that needs papa Miguel's help to shelter her from the pouring rain and bubble wrap you and cuddle you and just- protect you from this all too harsh world.

And you could be trying to break free from his grasp, going of about how he didnt need you to pull you from your universe, how you had your life under control and what not, and Miguel would just sigh and shake his head and mutter "Teenagers🙄" EVEN IF YOU'RE AN ADULT.

Miguel isnt someone who talks about his feelings, definitely not at first, he just bottles everything up until the lid pops off and someone else has to face his fury. BUT that doesn't he doesn't expect you to talk about yours. He's super observant so the moment he notices the slightest change in your mood, or the way you breathe, oh he's bugging you to tell him whats wrong. I mean he's breathing down your neck, which as you already know isnt great because he is the only person you're allowed to talk to (minus Peter B Parker and Mayday), and eventually, he may even tie you upside down with his web to make you talk. And he's just nodding and offering up solutions/therapeutic advices (not really, they're just compromises) while you're getting blood rush from hanging off the ceiling for so long.

Also going back to the "you're not my dad!" thing, I think if you say it enough times, it does start to hurt him and eventually he reaches a breaking point where he does end up getting mad and bares his teeth at you as he yells "I AM, NOW! AND IF YOU DON'T START LISTENING TO ME MIJA, YOU WILL REGRET IT! NOW, MARCH OFF TO YOUR ROOM!" And sure, you get spooked enough to run off, but not before you yell like a very cliche, angsty teen "I hate you!" and you slam your door close before he could scold you again. He still comes right up to your door, probably to ground you even more, but he doesnt have the heart to open the door when he hears your sobs. Damn, now you just broke his heart. So, Miguel leaves, deciding its best that you two get some space to cool off.

Now I see Miguel as the type of dad who doesnt really apologise (mostly because he doesn't feel like he's done anything wrong) but instead offers a parley or a white flag of sorts in the form of food (like some cut up fruits and veggies, or even your fav takeout) and sure, his heart is still heavy with guilt, even more so when he sees your swollen red eyes indicating how you've been crying for days, so he clears his throat, maybe shifts in his seat a little and asks about your day or something random, heartbreak intensifying 100X when you refuse to talk to him, making him resort to something thats... uncomfortable for you both.

A hug.

I mean this has to be the most awkward hug in history, because Miguel just swoops you up and places you in his lap, pulling you to his chest and telling you that he's not letting go until you talk. STILL NOT APOLOGISING, I mean there is a greater likelihood that you may end up apologising to him but Miguel sure as hell isnt saying the word "sorry" (unless you're dead, specifically if u die in his arms hehe).

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate pt 8

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns that everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - Violence, a tiny dragon, Elain being mean, sappy batboys trying to get their Kaylee home

A/n - Sheeeeees baaaaaack. I cut this into a part 8 and part 9 because I felt the ending was dramatic enough alone. Also, I am hoping I got all of you on the taglist, but please let me know if you want to be added or if I missed you. I am hitting my tag limit with this story, so I apologize for the reblog that's about to come.

Also, thank you @sarawritestories for cheering me on through my love hate relationship with this chapter

Series Masterlist ✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Azriel had never felt more broken than he did right now.

She was lonely.

His mate was lonely.

He moved to her slowly, kneeling before her and stroking her cheek. “Let me take you home, Kaylee. It's going to get too cold here. You hate being cold.”

Kaylee wouldn't look at him. She didn't move from his touch, but she didn't acknowledge him either. It stung him to his core to see her like this. “Kaylee, starlight, please, come home. I will bring you back tomorrow if I must, just please come home.”

“Did you do it?” 

Azriel knew immediately what she meant. His stomach dropped as he got closer, finally feeling her soft skin under his. “No. I never touched her. You are mine, Kaylee. I am yours." He took her chin in his hand, forcing her face to his. "You are the only female I will ever want. I've waited over 500 years for you.”

And those long years wishing to the lost souls during Starfall and to every twinkling piece of starlight felt so miniscule now. What was 500 years compared to the eternity he was fated to have with Kaylee. Beautiful, kind, and innocent Kaylee. “I would never risk losing you.”  He almost jumped as the drake huffed, golden brown eyes opening to stare at the 3 males before snuggling into Kaylee. 

Azriel tentatively reached out, patting the nose of the beast resting his head in Kaylee's lap. “He is fairly attached to you already.” 

“Can you blame him?” Cassian took a small step towards Kaylee, gently tilting her head up. “Have you ever met someone like our Kaylee?”

Rhysand then moved closer to. “Such pure souls are rare. And it appears we all made a mistake while dealing with this one.” His hand brushed her golden hair back. “Come home, little sister.”

She shook her head, eyes watering as she snuggled into the drake's snoot and kissed it. “He is so lonely.” Another soft huff came. Then, the scent of magic. Where a large drake once laid, a small one now sat in Kaylee's hands. Wide blue eyes turned to Rhysand, a pout already forming and triggering a distant memory he didn't dare linger on for too long. “Can we keep him?” 

An otter, a drake, a rabbit, a fox. Azriel had lost track of the animals sneaking into Kaylee's room to join her as she slept soundly in his arms. She had never said she forgave him, never asked for more of an explanation, but she knew she did not want him to leave again. She knew she wanted him in her bed, even if a small scaled creature now shared her pillow. 

He pulled her close, breathing in her freshly cleaned hair. The scent of strawberries was clinging to her, but it was not her. Her natural scent had started to change, and Azriel could not complain. It now reminded him of a soft rain mixing with lilac, as if she was becoming nature itself.

He smiled as she turned over, hooking her leg over his. He pulled her closer, sighing softly at the same time she did. For the first time since she left with Lucien, Azriel found himself drifting off to sleep. Even if a creature he should have feared was currently crawling onto his mate and curling up on her side near him. 

Kaylee hated mornings, but she especially hated waking up alone after asking her mate to stay. As if he knew, Azriel walked into the room a tray in his hands as gray pants rested low on his hips. “Good morning,” he sent a small plate on the floor, watching as the unnamed drake went to the raw meat. His attention was then solely on her as he set the tray down and offered her his arm, leading her to the sitting area of her lavish room. 

Rhys had decorated it with pillows and throw blankets. She remembered him sparkling with pride as the mix of deep blues and golds, as if decorating so simply was a difficult task. She has praised him nonetheless, cherishing the budding relationship with her new big brother, and somehow sensing he needed a little sister to tell him how fantastic he truly was. She did just notice, though, how they matched Azriel's siphons. “This doesn't count as accepting the bond, right?”

Azriel chuckled softly as he gave Kaylee oatmeal and fruits, “Not unless you plan on feeding or serving me. Do you want to talk now or eat first?” They both jumped as the sound of blowing fire filled the room before a heavy munching noise. “Well that answers that question.”

He watched her as she ate. He memorized little things. How she swayed when she ate. How her nose would crinkle, smile going wide when she tasted something she was really enjoying. How her mouth would twitch when she smelled things. “You understand now why we wouldn't eat your food?”

Kaylee smiled as she rolled her eyes, “I cooked that meal.”

He clocked her nose twitch, noting it for later. “You did? Is that a preview of my future? Because if it is, I will prepare my own mating meal and just have you serve it."

Her jaw fell open before she threw a grape at him. “You are so mean.” 

“Tasted like shit.”

“Then I guess it's good I didn't actually make it.”

“Thank the Mother. I was concerned for my stomach." Kaylee smiled before leaning in to kiss bis cheek. "

Your nose twitches when you lie.” He watched her face fall slightly. “I noticed it when you told Feyre you would be okay after that first dinner. Then again, when she left after the first meeting. You also dance when you eat. When you sleep, your legs move until you find the perfect spot for them.”

Kaylee felt herself flushing, hearing all his little observations of her smallest habits, and Azriel smirked before he continued. “You whisper when you read, sounding out each word until you know you're correct. That's how we realized you couldn't read. You braid your hair when you get nervous. Rhys found that one for me as he was teaching you. You do all these simple little things that make me believe you are the most beautiful precious thing.” 

He grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. “I am sorry.” She nodded, brows raising to indicate to continue. He noted that as well, predicted this would not be his last apology to his mate. “I allowed myself to put duty before you, and it put us in a situation where you felt I was someone you could no longer trust. Rhysand and I have discussed his part in this, and he will apologize later, but my part hurt you more.” 

Kaylee felt herself losing her will to hold on to what little anger she had as he moved, kneeling before her. “I am sorry I was ever in her room. I am sorry I was too shocked to leave. I am sorry I did not speak with you right away that morning.”

“It's okay.” She could hardly blink before he kneeled for her. “Az-”

“It's not okay, Kaylee.” He listened to her heart as he touched her lower thighs. “I hurt you. I failed to protect you. I failed you as your mate.”

“Azriel-”

“Let me finish.” He brushed the tears falling on her face and sighed. “My job as your mate is to ensure you feel loved, that you are safe, and that you know we are equals in everything. I have allowed myself to be pulled away from you, and you needed me much more than your sisters did, didn't you?”

Kaylee looked to the ceiling, the door, anywhere but the male who she knew could feel every raw emotion she had. He squeezed her thighs softly, bringing her back to him. “Your silence is enough of an answer for me to know I have failed you. If you believe I am worthy of a third chance, I will not fail you again. I will be a male worthy of your love.” She was silent, too stunned to speak. “Kaylee, my love, please.”

Kaylee had to admit, Azriel looked pretty on his knees. He looked pretty begging for forgiveness over something that he didn't do. Over something she was learned was planned by her own sisters. 

Azriel kissed her palms, holding her hands so tightly it was as if he feared she'd disappear like the wind. "Whatever I have to do, whatever you need me to be, whatever you need. I will do anything to be worthy of holding you again. Kaylee, please." 

Kaylee just sighed, cupping his cheek as she did and stared into those desperate hazel eyes. “We have two weeks to put a strong united front.” He nodded in agreement, but his brows knit in confusion over the statement. “I want to also have a better relationship with you within two weeks. Just to shove it to Eris. But that also means you have to allow me to do something first.” He jumped her without hesitation, crashing her lips to his and delighting in her laughter. 

He would give Kaylee the world, live and breathe solely for the purpose of her happiness, and now he had to prove it.

Dinner that night was silent as Kaylee watched Elain watching Azriel. He had not left Kaylee's side since long slow kisses were shared in her room. They had only stopped when Rhys and Feyre came, knocking on the door after their late breakfast. The Lord and Lady laughed as Kaylee answered the door, hair a tangled mess from Azriel's hands while he laid panting on her bed in a state of bliss. 

He had not even left her as Rhysand trained her powers, watching as she called forth every beast and creature in her collection and communicated with them. Her powers had grown quickly, almost too quickly. The warning was still visible on her discolored fingers.

Kaylee had access to levels of magic that had not been granted since the first fae, levels that were hand given out by the Gods to their chosen few and carrying along those bloodlines in the rarest form. Lucien's warning rang in his and Rhysand's head, a warning of the former tamer who turned more beast than fae before walking off into the forest to never been seen again. 

It festered in the thoughts of both males as they communicated silently, involving Amren as they all looked to the youngest sister's discolored fingertips. It's as if the magic I'd eating at her body, Amren was studying her like a hawk. I will look into the Books.

Kaylee cut into her potato, smiling slightly as Azriel traded her steamed vegetables for the serving of meat she had not touched. “Kaylee, we're going to have to find a way to supplement proteins in your diet.”

Nesta shook her head and spoke softly, “She will get over it.” Nesta had been Kaylee's first fight since learning the truth. Her oldest sister had folded immediately. All cattiness out of her body as soon as they were alone together. Broken together.

And Nesta was broken. A simple fact Kaylee had known for a while. Her oldest sister had not thought of the consequences. She had just wanted Kaylee to hurt as much as she was, and watching her thrive, watching her grow, it had been too much. Kaylee allowed Nesta to hold her to whisper each apology. An apology for not protecting her, for what happened to them, for failing as a sister, and Kaylee accepted each one. It was a side of Nesta reserved only for Kaylee. The side of Nesta she told Cassian about and prayed had not been stolen from them. 

Nesta smiled to Kaylee, “She did this even when we were-” the sentence trailed off with the fond memory. “Azriel, the earring you bought Kaylee are lovely.”

“They are, aren't they?” Rhys moved to brush blonde hair behind a pointed ear. “They work well with the sapphires.” Small diamond twinkled next to the earring Azriel had given her before the Cauldron, sparkling in the light and showing off her newest piercing. 

Azriel maintained his mask, but moved a hand to her thigh under the table. “Only the best for my mate.” 

“And if she doesn't actually want you?” The question hung in the air. “Or if you don't truly want her? You two are forced together. Do you not deserve a choice, Azriel?"

“Elain,” Lucien's warning was a whisper. “Thread carefully.”

Lucien watched as the young Archeron put her silverware down. He watched her take out those mentioned earrings as everything paused as Feyre moved closer to Rhysand and away from Elain. 

“Mother fuck!” Cassian jumped back as Kaylee jumped Elain and chaos ensued. Nesta was the first to her two younger sisters, trying to pull the small wild animal that had taken Kaylee's place off of Elain as Mor and Amren watched with amused smiles. Rhys was next, touching Nesta's shoulder, stating he would handle it, only to be met with a well placed elbow from the now smirking eldest sister.

Azriel and Lucien stared at each other, both rapidly motioning for the other to do something as Kaylee landed a solid punch on Elain's shoulder. "You first. I insist," Lucien motioned towards them. "I already am missing one eye. I would like to keep the other." It was instantly noted by all in the room how the youngest sister was refusing to truly hurt Elain, to damage her more as tears of frustration and anger poured down Kaylee's face.

It was Cassian who finally took the youngest, throwing her over her shoulder and leaving the room with her. Kaylee watched each of his graceful steps, knowing where they were going as she clung to his leathers crying. He sunk her into the training ring, stepping back a few feet before getting into a stance and nodding. 

He braced himself for her sloppy attacks, knowing more than anything to cover his face, but knowing this was nothing. This was nothing compared to her anger when she first woke up. The only difference between the Kaylee before him and the one who begged to be trained was precision. He saw his opening, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her back to his chest. “Breathe, Kaylee.” He kissed the back of her head as her thrashing stopped. “Just breathe.” 

She could not see Cassian as the sobs slowed. She could not see the concern on his face as he looked to the skies.

Flying there in its full glory, circling above them like a predator searching for prey, was her drake, and Cassian was just hoping he, and no one in Velaris, was about to be it's next meal.

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

Bound by Fate:

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit

@coralseacourt @snoopyspace @tothestarsandwhateverend @st4r-girl-official @brieflyclassymortal @nickishadow139 @julesofvolterra @isa1b2h3 @awkward-mystic-beauty @12358 @throneofsmut @inloveallthetime @throneofsapphics @hnnybee0 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @vermillionwinter @mybestfriendmademe @mrstepes @darling006 @mich0731 @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

[kkcauseway]

Scrubs Up

No outbreak!Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: 1.4k of pure fluff… it’s just Joel being stupidly cute shaving your legs in the bath, he’s just so fucking cute. Content/warnings: so much flufffff! Joel miller being completely unsubtle, but also being the most doting husband.🫶🏻 no use of y/n, no outbreak.

Main masterlist I Wedding day fluff I Drunk reader fluff

You’re completely at peace in your rose scented bubble blanket. Joel ran you the most amazing bath for when you made it home from work, because as per usual the man knows what you need before you even know you need it yourself. Your boss has been unnecessarily harsh lately, and after calling him on your lunch break and breaking down for the second time this week, he knew he needed to do something to help get your mind off it once you made it home. He even lit all your favourite candles and sat them on the sink, so you were hit with vanilla when you walked into the room- it was a more than necessary amount, but you love him so much for it.

You’re resting in the perfect warm water, eyes closed with you so at peace with finally able to forget about your shitty day and instead you reminisce on your wonderful life with Joel. How amazing he makes you feel and how cute he is for running the bath for you and for ordering Chinese takeout- your favourite.

A knock at the bathroom door draws your attention away from your thoughts. On opening your eyes you’re met with your husband’s gaze as he peers his head round the door smiling at you before walking in and shutting the door behind him. “Hey baby” he utters.

“Hi” you smile at him so happy. Admiring his frame, his messy curly hair that’s just that bit too long, but you find it absolutely perfect and so he won’t cut it, the white t shirt he’s wearing slightly too tight on his biceps, dark blue jeans that hug him just right and feet bare.

When he moves towards you brining over a storage box and sits right at the side of the bath you can’t help but giggle. “What the heck are you doin’?”

“I got bored.”

You laugh “bored?”

“I missed you” he puts that adorable pouty face on that you fell for as he shrugs.

“Baby I’ve been gone like twenty minutes” you kick your legs under the water toes quickly popping out before hiding amongst the bubbles again; he can’t help but stare “s’too long, so v’brought my book in” he holds it up with a smug smile on his face “and m’gonna sit with my baby keep her company.”

“Cutie, but since when do you read?”

He leans over to kiss you briefly “I read plenty thanks” before making himself comfortable sitting back with a groan. You can’t help but stare as he opens his book up and licks his finger in order to turn the page. You just lie back watching for a moment as this man stays fully ‘engrossed’ in his book.

“Is it good?” You quiz playfully into the silence.

“Uhu, yeah great.” It’s the most unenthusiastic response as he licks his finger again and turns the page.

Laughing you add “you know the books upside down, right?”

“Oh, is it?” He peers over the top, chuckling, his eyes unmoving from yours as he turns it the right way. “Ooops, guess I was distracted.”

“Hmmm, anyone would think you drew me this bath just so you could come and perv on me.” You chuckle and the smug look that plasters his face gives you your answer immediately, but he gasps playfully “that’s outrageous.”

You shake your head before throwing it back on a full belly laugh, you couldn’t love him more if you tried. With that he then looks back to the words on the page seemingly engrossed on whatever he’s reading, so you get back to bathing yourself.

When you pick up your razor and lift your left leg to rest on the side of the bath his eyes pop up over the book. You pretend not to notice shaving away, but it isn’t long till his gaze burns. You run the razor along your leg a few more times before chuckling. Turning to look his way his cheeks begin staining red- he knows he’s caught. “If you’re gonna stare the least you could do is offer to do it for me” you jest before laughing again your breasts popping out of the water as you do.

He licks his lips at the sight before shrugging “I’ll do it for yah.”

“You will?”

You didn’t expect that kind of a response from him.

“Course” he closes and puts the book down on the floor before moving his makeshift seat over so he can reach your leg easily.

“This one’s done” you put the leg back into the water “but she’s all yours” you giggle lifting your right leg out. He takes it into his grasp running his large palm up and down the length of it before clasping your foot “you painted ‘em again.” You hum in response as he admires the baby blue polish on your toes. Gently brushing his thumb over the polish on your big toe.

You love that about him, he notices everything, every slight change.

That one hand keeps hold of your foot as he takes the razor from you with the other “now hold still” he urges.

You nod “yes sir,” completely engrossed in the fact he’s actually going to do this for you. You watch intently as he sticks his tongue between his lips and gently runs the razor along your leg in soft, even strokes. It tickles, sending goosebumps to your entire body. How is it possible that him doing something as simple as shaving your leg makes you horny? It’s the intimacy of it, leg hair could be embarrassing, with anyone else you know it would be, but with Joel, he’s always made you feel so beautiful no matter what that it’s normal. You could stay in this moment forever. Every touch is so meaningful, so full of love.

Each glide of the razor is done with so much care. And you can tell he’s enjoying himself the smirk plastered on his face grows as he shaves, and you moan at how much it tickles.

When finished he places the razor back down and you expect he will just drop your leg, but he doesn’t. He rinses it off by cupping some water into his palm and lets it fall over your leg and then he leans down to place the most delicate kiss on your foot, you can’t help but moan. This continues all the way up the side of your leg he kisses, nibbles and licks till he reaches the crease in your knee.

“I love you” he mumbles into the skin there.

“I love you too.” You squeak out, breathless from the moment.

As he pulls his face away from your leg, he gently drops it back into the water “y’ready t’get out now?”

You hum in response, looking up to him with slightly hooded eyes. You could get out yourself you know full well, but you like him doting on you, so instead you make grabby hands at him and force him to help pull you up. He keeps one of your hands in his to help you climb onto the bathmat. He stands with you moving the box out of the way before grabbing your towel and wrapping it around your body, cuddling you close. “Mmmm, you smell like strawberries” he grumbles.

“Your favourite right?” You look up at him with a smile.

He’s always been obsessed with your hair since you first met, the first time you kissed he’d grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to him as your tongues danced with one another. As he pulled away, he placed a delicate kiss to your forehead which is when he first got hit with the strawberry smell. Funnily enough it was the first time you’d used it, and ever since then it’s the only one you’ll use. It binds you together, it’s important, a part of your story, one you hope never to forget. Now all he ever wants to do is bury his face into your hair as he breathes in the strawberry scent. He says it’s one of the things he loves most about you, strawberries.

He meets your eyes with a cheeky smile “anythin’ n’everythin’ to do with you is my favourite gorgeous girl.” And with that he kisses you. “Now come on Chinese will be here soon gotta make sure you’re comfy in bed before it gets here.”

He melts your heart, loving him more is impossible.

Main masterlist I wedding day fluff I drunk reader fluff

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Fourteen ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Fourteen Warnings: profanity, slight gore, violence Click on the first tag to see all the other chapters.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter Fourteen]

You frantically threw aside the cushions, sweeping your hand under the sofa, rug and table in search of the bracelet. After checking everything you slumped, your back to the sofa, heart thrumming wildly. It had been hours since you’d started searching for it, the sun dipping beneath the horizon. Your entire living room had been turned upside down, inside out in the desperate search. 

It was definitely gone. 

You stood up, fists clenched, and pressed your palm against the cool glass, searching for Lute’s silhouette against the sky. She wasn’t there. 

It was definitely her who had taken it.

But wait- you flinched away from the window as you made eye contact with a winner on the street. Maybe she hadn’t taken it. Maybe it was lying around somewhere in your house, waiting for you to find it. You racked your brains, trying to remember where you had last put it. 

Of course your memory would fail you now. Of-fucking-course. 

You flopped onto the sofa, staring at the light hanging above you. Maybe you could enlist someone’s help. But then what would you say?

Hey, I was wondering if you could help me find this illegal bracelet I lost. Yeah, I use it to illegally communicate with my illegal boyfriend, who also did illegal stuff and got kicked out of Heaven. I’m probably next, haha. Don’t worry about it!

No doubt someone would ask for an explanation. 

You sat up, pulled yourself together, and held your head high. If you went down, it would be with grace. Not a desperate, scrambling, pleading mess, groveling at Sera and Lute’s for the slightest scrap of mercy they could have spared you. 

You slunk to your room. You might as well just go to sleep.

♱♱♱

A knock sounded on the door.

Your heart jolted painfully, and you opened the door to see Saint Peter’s smile plastered across his face.

“Saint Peter,” you observed, flicking your eyes up and down his face. His smile strained a little, as if he knew what he thought you didn’t. But you did know. Unfortunately. 

The morning light that had filtered through your blinds, cutting the darkness in your house like butter, now blinded you full in the face as you stood outside on your porch. Peter smoothed his clothes down, and you noticed a shake in his hand despite the relatively warm sun, touched by the cool breeze. He was nervous. 

“I think you know what I’m here about,” Saint Peter said apologetically. You arched a brow, deciding to play it cruel with him. The more you could frazzle him, the better.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” you said coldly, stepping forward, advancing towards him dangerously. He stumbled back a little, face colouring.

“[name],” he said, and his voice was as firm as he could muster. “Please. Sera wants to see you.”

Your chest clenched, airways closing. You froze, wings fluttering slightly in the breeze. You could feel Peter’s eyes trained on you. You smiled wryly. 

“Aren’t you meant to be at the gates?” You asked, hoarsely. “I’d go back if I were you.” Your wings instinctively spread out as you took a shaky step back, towards your front door. 

He sighed, and it was low and long. His eyes were weary. “You can’t run away.”

Two black figures shot out in front of you, and you let out a small scream, trying to wrench away as one of them gripped your arm before the other, tugging you back. You kicked out with your legs, then went limp, panting. “Get off of me,” you hissed. 

One of the exorcists dropped your hand, although the other didn’t, instead opting to point the spear at your neck as you remained in the crushing vice of her grip. The one who had released you took a couple of steps back, taking off her helmet. Brown locks tumbled down, swaying in the wind.

“[name],” Avery said, and her eyes were serious. “You better come with us.” 

You opened your mouth, then shut it. The melancholy in the girl’s eyes had always had an effect on you. “Fine,” you choked out. Peter made a pleased noise, face glowing with the relief and satisfaction that washed over him. It made your blood boil, but you cooled it again. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, before wrestling your arm out of the second exorcist’s grip. “Let go of me,” you muttered. You locked eyes with her glowing ones shining off of her helmet. “I’m not going to run away,” you spat, and after a reproachful glance towards Avery she dropped your arm, prodding you forward with the blunt end of her spear. 

Saint Peter took to the skies. Avery turned to you. “You try to fly away,” she began,

“We’ll shoot you down with no hesitation. Got it?”

“Got it,” you said flatly, and with a powerful beat of her wings she thrust herself into the air, donning her helmet again. The exterminator behind you didn’t move, so statuesque you had forgotten she was there. 

You threw yourself into the sky, and felt the whoosh of air from underneath you- another from behind you. Twisting your neck behind, you saw the exterminator in tow.

Heaven’s buildings and streets glided away beneath you in a pastel blur, Avery and Saint Peter in the distance ahead, the other exterminator on your heels. A large park came into view, soft green grass speckled with trees, which eventually gave way into a wood. 

An impulsive thought seized you, coursing through your blood like hot fire. 

You swerved left, shooting into the undergrowth. You could feel the exorcist’s enraged yell behind you, fading as you swerved beneath the canopy and crouched down into the leaves, peering at them through the branches. Avery jabbed a finger in one direction, then another, then lastly, yours, eyes not seeing you as she flew off and away. Saint Peter went another way, but the exterminator’s head turned, slowly. 

Her eyes locked onto yours.

You suppressed a small scream as she darted towards you, a black blur in the air as you launched back into the air again, weaving haphazardly through the trees. Thorns and branches cut at your skin, pain blooming sweet and fresh. 

The black blur collided with you like a thrown spear, shoving you onto the ground and straddling you as you wrestled to get out. Your hand twisted beneath you, pain shooting up your arm and rooting into your shoulder. She grabbed your hands, pinning you down, and your shoulder twisted and cracked. You screamed. 

“Stop moving,” she hissed, voice hard. You sent her off with one powerful kick, and her head slammed into the tree, lolling against the wood. You poised your wings for flight, then froze, your entire body going rigid. 

“Are you…” your throat was dry, voice coming out cracked and raspy. 

She didn’t move, but let out a light groan, head flopping down. You stumbled forward, hand outstretched, then pulled it back. There was a trickle of golden blood down her neck. You felt your own shoulder throb at the sight. You looked into the sky, and saw Avery suspended in the air, wings beating steadily.

Directly above you. 

♱♱♱ a/n: I wrote this cause ppl were asking me to write and blowing up my dms and inbox on here and other platforms so basically I was pressured into it but PLEASE after this leave me be because I have exams and they’re really tough but important. I’d rather write when I can and what I feel like writing than be pressured into updating a fic I started for fun. This isn’t the only thing I’m writing or wanna write, I have other ideas and interests I wanna explore. I have literally gotten texts saying “why did you update (fic name) but not FFM? While saying you have exams? You hypocrite…” Like girl what… I have free time and FFM isn’t some weird commitment I swore by? The more I get treated like this the less interested and demotivated I’m getting in this fic. I’m not your content machine. wtf

[handsofred]

So....I saw a couple of posts about Stiles and his emergency contact and this popped up in to my mind...It's not finished, I'm planning on adding more to it and then posting it on AO3, but just wanted to see what you guys thought of it so far.

Stiles was...well... He was fucked! And it wasn't even his fault this time okay, it seriously wasn't. So the fact that he was currently laid up in an emergency side room, holding a bloody towel to his temple wasn't something anyone could tell him otherwise. Because it was not his fault. The fact that his other arm was cradled against his chest as well and possibly broken also wasn't his fault. None of this was and yet he was the one sitting there, injured and hurting while the other guy was currently fighting with the nurses down the hall, each yell and squeak of footwear against the floor driving another nail in to his head. Of course that guy was drunk, driving a stupid car which crashed in to Stiles' jeep and made him veer off to the side, hitting another car as he went while drunk guy continued to drive on, hitting others too. But it was also the fact that the side he was pushed towards just happened to slope downwards...just enough to send the jeep rolling once or twice and land upside down. He was fucked, but he was alive.

Sitting back against the bed, he let his eyes close against the bright lights of the room, just hoping that someone would turn up soon and pick him up or just keep him company. ''Uh...Mi...Mr. Stilinski?'' The nervous tone of the nurse had him opening his eyes and turning towards the young nurse who was stood in the doorway. ''That's me...Stiles actually.'' He told her, offering what he hoped was a kind smile, but it felt more of a grimace as another loud noise sent pain running through his head again. ''Stiles...of course.'' She smiled before slipping inside and closing the door behind her, helping to cut some of that noise down. ''The doctor will be with you soon to stitch up your wound, I'm sorry about the wait.''

''Not your fault, there's others who are more hurt than me out there.'' He replied with a light shrug, he knew how the emergency room can be on a Friday night, Melissa had told him and Scott enough horror stories growing up.

It seemed to make the nurse brighten a little as she nodded and came over to the end of the bed, flipping the chart she had in her hands a couple of times. ''We tried the number that you gave us for your emergency contact, but there was no answer. I promise you that we tried a couple of times but each time it just rings out.'' She told him with an apologetic look. ''I know that you said that your father was out of town currently, but do you have anyone else that we could call to come for you?''

Sighing, he shook his head a little, knowing that the chances of Scott actually picking up the phone was something he couldn't rely on half the time, it reminded him that he really needed to update his contacts as he thought through who he could call.

Dad was out of town in a conference, that was a hard no. Melissa was currently on her own floor and too busy to deal with him, another hard no. Scott...well, Scott was just not picking up.

Derek was in town, but was dealing with his own things, he knew that if he called the Alpha, that there was a slight chance he would come, but he didn't want to disturb him, not when Cora had recently come back to town again and they were finally making up for lost years.

''Mr.... Stiles?'' The nurse spoke softly. ''Is there anyone I can contact for you?''

''I think....for the moment...I just need to think about it.'' Stiles admitted quietly, feeling small on the bed as she offered him a smile and nodded.

''Okay, just let me know when you're ready.'' She told him warmly before glancing at the clock. ''The doctor should be in soon to stitch you up, but we should be able to get you down to X-Ray and back before then to check that arm out for you.''

''Thank you.''

The words were soft spoken and accepted as she headed back out the room to grab a wheelchair for him. Pulling his phone out in the meantime, Stiles opened up the group chat for the pack and just stared down at the chat box before he sighed.

Lil'Red: So...funny story, currently in the emergency room of our lovely town. NOT my FAULT at all this time, drunk driver hit me and some others...but I need someone to come and get me, jeep is a total wreck and Scott isn't picking up as my emergency contact. Possible concussion, possible broken arm and I'm needing stitches, so...yeah...any help would be good.

ZombieWolf is typing.....

SilverFox is typing.....

[g1rld1ary]

hiiii🩷 i love your work and i wanted to request a drabble. i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before or not so… also im new to the whole requesting thing.

so it’s basically a lockwood x reader where lucy and george don’t know lockwood has a kinda secret gf. and one day she shows up to the door of 35 portland row and lockwood has to explain to them that he has a girlfriend. (he didn’t tell anyone to protect her or smth).

opening doors - lockwood x reader

wc: 1980

cw: mentions of an injury, one use of 'my girl' but otherwise gn i think?

an: thanku for requesting baby!!! sorry its taken a while but i lovedddd this request and writing this!! i know i changed the end a little bit but shh hopefully its ok!! xoxo

Dating whilst ghosts roamed the streets of London was hard. Dinner dates were a precarious decision and you had to be sure if you were spending the night pretty quickly for your own safety (against ghosts, men were still another question). Dating a ghost hunter? That was harder. Yes, he wasn't exactly a 'ghost hunter' but that was close enough from the stories your boyfriend told you; brushes with death were a common occurrence, much to your chagrin.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd sat up all night in your bedroom, waiting for a call to confirm that he was alright and alive after a case. But Lockwood was Lockwood and each time, just as your eyes were starting to close on their own, your phone would ring and you'd be startled awake, picking up as fast as your arms would let you. He'd open with an affirmation that everything was fine and he was sitting in the library with a hot cup of tea, ready for a chat with you.

This had been your routine for the six months you'd been dating, and while it had ruined your sleep schedule, you couldn't be happier. Lockwood had turned your world upside down after your chance encounter at your university while he was investigating a case, giving you adventures and the most love you'd ever felt. You were similarly obsessed with him, rambling on about your day over the phone and attaching to his hip whenever you could get together.

This was all true, except for the last four days. Lockwood told you on Sunday they had a high-paying case on Monday night and hadn't called you since. No confirmation he was alright, let alone alive, and it was killing you. He'd never forgotten, not once over six months. This ignited a panic in your stomach, anxiety clawing through your chest as you had to continue on with your week acting like you could think of anything other than your boyfriend.

On the fifth day, you'd had enough. And so, on Friday afternoon after your class had let out for the weekend, you marched to Portland Row for the very first time. Lockwood didn't want you around his business, saying he wanted to keep 'the best thing in his life' separate and as safe as possible. You didn't mind, you had a tiny apartment all to yourself that you were more than happy to host him in, but it did make your expedition more scary than it otherwise would have been.

Still, you steeled your nerves and rapped on the front door, picking your nails nervously as you waited for someone to answer. That person happened to be an unimpressed-looking boy who you recognised from Lockwood's tales as George.

"Can I help you?" He asked, wearing cartoonishly large rubber gloves that made you want to laugh.

"Is Lockwood here?" You took his lead to skip the pleasantries, none of it being even vaguely interesting to you until you knew your boyfriend was alright. George hesitated.

"He's not seeing anyone right now."

"Why not?" You all but cut him off, desperation making you forget your manners. He narrowed his eyes, clearly choosing his words clearly.

"He had a nasty accident on our last case. He's only gotten back from hospital today and is on strict bed rest. If you have a professional inquiry, you're welcome to return later or speak to me or my other colleague, Lucy Carlyle."

"Can I speak to Lucy?" You needed to talk to a girl. Clearly, George was not the most emotionally sensitive member of the company, and if you tried bartering a visit with him you had an inkling you'd start crying. If Lockwood's descriptions were anything to go off, Lucy was much more likely to understand you.

George let you in, clearly reluctantly, leading you to the kitchen. He awkwardly made you tea, leaving you to drink it silently as he went to fetch Lucy. You took the moment alone to take in the kitchen, a soft ache settling into the edges of your heart. It was so cozy, so lived in that it almost upset you. Lockwood and Lucy and George. They were the residents of 35 Portland Row, they got to wake up to one another every morning. They got to bicker over the jam and tea. You woke up alone, going about most of your days in silence unless you started talking to yourself, but you were really trying not to make that a habit.

It wasn't that you hated Lockwood keeping you a secret, it made complete sense. He was in a dangerous profession and had an even more impulsive nature, making for a risky lifestyle. And as he'd unwillingly told you, he did have people who occasionally came after him. Lockwood didn't want you caught in the crossfire and you understood, you were grateful, even. But looking at the life he led without you, you couldn't help but regret it a little bit. Portland Row was the kind of place you didn't even have to try to be able to imagine as your home.

You were interrupted by George returning with Lucy in tow, both clearly unprepared for a client. George was in some sort of cleaning gear, the aforementioned gloves and an apron over his shirt, and Lucy looked like she'd been working out but not for long, only a slight sheen on her features and her clothes still mostly light and moving.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," She greeted, a warm (if somewhat awkward) smile on her lips, "How can we help you?"

"I need to see Lockwood, please."

"You know we're not idiots, right?" George snapped, "Actually, I'm much more competent than him." Lucy shot him a dark look, elbowing him in the ribs as they sat across from you.

"What he means is that despite it being Lockwood's name on the sign, we're all fully qualified to talk to you and take your case. I'm not sure what George has said, but Lockwood is--"

"He's my boyfriend." You cut her off, unable to stand any more delay. You were met with dead silence, both agent's jaws dropped open.

"What?"

"He's my boyfriend," You affirmed, "We're dating and I need to see that he's ok."

"That's not possible." George shook his head, "He's never mentioned you."

"Not that we don't believe you, but can you tell us more? We just don't want to let any random person into our house, I'm sure you understand," Lucy added and you nodded instantly, more than aware that Lockwood had made enemies during his time with his company.

You started speaking, spilling the exact timeline of your relationship, details of your time together, vague suggestions that he'd told you about his family, anything you could think of to prove that you were really together. Then, like a lightbulb illuminating over your head, you reached into your coat pocket for your wallet. Sitting on the inside was a Polaroid of you and Lockwood, him kissing your cheek as you laughed. George grabbed it, examining it in disbelief. Even Lucy stole a glance or two before turning her focus back to you, new sympathy in her eyes.

"Will you please tell me what happened to him?" You begged, reaching out for Lucy's hand. She held yours firmly, speaking in a soft voice as she explained the incident.

"We were on a case on Monday and Lockwood took a leap down some stairs to get away from a ghost. He fractured his patella. It's fine, the doctor said he got pretty lucky all things considered, no surgery needed or anything. He was just kept in hospital for a few days because -- as I'm sure you know -- Lockwood isn't good at following instructions, especially orders not to get out of bed for a week. He only got back this morning which I assume is why he hasn't communicated with you." You nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Can I see him, please?"

They both nodded quickly, leading you up the stairs to where you assumed Lockwood's bedroom lay. Lucy knocked before cracking the door open, smiling softly at her boss.

"We've got a guest here for you."

"A client? Can't you talk to them? I'm not in my professional clothes!" You could hear him rustling in the bed sheets, presumably pushing himself up to be sitting and smiled a little.

"Better than a client, I hope?" You said, stepping through the doorway. You watched Lockwood go through a thousand emotions in an instant, but his face settled on elation, holding out his arms for you.

You rushed to his side, wrapping him up in your arms as tight as you could.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously, a laugh escaping his lips.

"Someone didn't call me after his case," You replied, sliding into the bed next to him to hold his arm.

"And someone didn't tell his coworkers-slash-friends-slash-housemates about his secret partner he's had for half a year!" George cut in.

"Sorry, Georgie," Lockwood gave him a megawatt smile, "Had to keep my girl safe, you understand." You grinned, pushing yourself even closer to him. George grumbled something but Lucy was already pushing him out the door, giving the two of you some much-needed space.

Safely alone, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, lovely. I couldn't get to a phone in the hospital, but I thought about you all day every day."

"But now your friends know about us," You said and Lockwood nodded with a smile that made your insides melt.

"They do," He paused, "So d'you think it's time for you to finally spend the night here?" You grinned.

"Really?" You could almost feel the sparkle in your eyes. Lockwood nodded again, a matching look on his face. You didn't bother confirming, instead pressing your lips to his desperately.

Dinner at Portland Row was exactly how you'd imagined it; loud and chaotic and absolutely perfect. George and Lucy arguing over the tiny details of a case story they were telling you, Lockwood butting in with a flashy description of the action sequence. You laughed along, compliments spilling out as you tasted George's cooking. It was too easy to see it happening perpetually, and you had to stop yourself from getting too comfortable on your first visit.

You settled in for the night next to Lockwood. You were in Lockwood's bed with him. You weren't sure if you'd stopped smiling all night.

"I like being here," You said into the dark, looking at the vaguely Lockwood-shaped shadow next to you.

"You could stay here more often, the others love you already."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, all that we've gotten out of keeping us a secret is worry. If people come after me, I promise that I'll do everything to protect you, but we shouldn't waste all our time being scared of something that may never happen. I love you," He said. You faltered, breath hitching slightly. He'd never said that before. Maybe it was slow, maybe it wasn't, but you knew Lockwood was so scared of committing to his feelings, this was everything.

"I love you too," You replied, hearing the smile in your voice as you said it. It was the easiest night of sleep you and Lockwood had ever had.

[twistersobsessed]

This is my first request on tumblr so sorry if it doesn’t make sense but could you do a Boone x Tyler’s sister reader where they’ve known eachother for awhile being that Tyler and him are childhood friends and Tyler’s super overprotective of her, and her and Boone are secretly dating and Tyler finds out. Maybe Boone comforts her after a tornado or something. I love your twisters stuff.

My Brother’s Best Friend | Boone x Reader

A/N: Combined this idea with another ask that was similar.

Tyler was overprotective, but he was also oblivious. That was probably how you and Boone had gotten away with it for so long.

Boone was Tyler’s childhood best friend, and when you were a kid you had a thing for him. He never admitted it, but he had a thing for you too.

When you were adults and Tyler formed the Wranglers, you and Boone began dating. Everyone else on the team knew, but they all kept quiet about it.

But the viewers had started picking up on it lately and you knew it was only a matter of time before Tyler put two and two together.

A knock sounded at your door. You groaned, rolling out of bed to open the door. As soon as you opened it you were being ushered back inside by Boone, who shut the door behind him. He wrapped you up in his arms and began assaulting you with kisses.

You squirmed in his hold, whining, “Boone, I just woke up.”

“G’morning, baby,” Boone cooed.

“Good morning,” you giggled as he attacked your neck with bites. He only nipped so that he wouldn’t leave marks. Tyler would notice and grill you to death about it.

“Seriously, baby, I have to get ready,” you laughed. Boone pouted but let you go, following you around the room like a puppy. You changed in front of him and he stuttered over his words as he rambled about the new camera he’d gotten.

“Alright,” you said, once you were dressed and ready. “Let’s go.”

Boone kissed you one final time before you both left the motel room and went to join the others.

It was supposed to be a normal day.

By 4:00, you were all rushing into the town of El Reno to save as many people as you could from the EF5 hurtling towards them.

Your heart dropped when the storm shelters were full. Someone suggested the movie theater, you didn’t know who in the chaos, and suddenly Boone was pulling you along and ushering other people towards the building.

In the theater, Javi and Tyler checked for a basement and found none. You noticed Kate had a look in her eyes. She turned without saying anything to anyone and you followed her. She went outside, to Tyler’s truck, and you knew what she was about to do.

You ran after her and jumped in the passenger seat.

“(Name),” Kate started. “I’m not letting you go alone,” you cut her off with finality. Kate squeezed your hand before slamming on the gas.

You could feel your heartbeat speeding up as you turned towards the tornado head-on.

Kate stopped the truck right in front of the monster and deployed the drills into the ground, securing the truck.

You both waited, holding hands, as the tornado consumed you. “Now,” Kate said, hitting the button to deploy the barrels. Your heart dropped when nothing happened. “No, no, come on,” Kate muttered, panicked.

Finally, the lids popped open and you both breathed a sigh of relief. That relief didn’t last long. The truck began to groan and creak. Kate put the hand that wasn’t holding yours on her lap and you mirrored her. You looked at one another one more time.

.

.

.

Pain was the first thing you felt. “(Name)!” Your eyelids fluttered open. You were still in the truck, but upside down, held to your seat only by your harness. Your head hurt and you could feel something wet on the side of your face so you could only imagine you had a head injury.

Looking over at Kate, she did too, but it wasn’t very deep. “Can you move? You hit your head pretty bad.”

You stretched your limbs to the best of your ability.

“Yeah, yeah, I can move.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Kate’s window was completely gone. She undid her harness and ungracefully fell from her seat. She began to crawl through the open window. Suddenly you could hear other voices, and someone pulled Kate all the way out of the truck.

You unbuckled your harness and fell, very mindful of your head. It took you a moment to collect yourself enough to move. You sluggishly crawled towards the window. You noticed there were more voices outside now, but everything was kind of fuzzy so you couldn’t tell who’s they were.

You reached the window and stuck your arm out, readying to drag yourself out, but someone grabs your arm. You reach out your other arm and someone else takes it, and they drag you as carefully as they can out of the truck.

Your saviors were Boone and Tyler. Boone pulled you into his chest and held you, sitting and cradling you like a baby. “(Name), thank fuck, you’re okay,” Tyler cried. He’d started crying as soon as he and Javi had pulled Kate out the truck.

“Never do that to me again,” Boone whispered. You closed your eyes, feeling dizzy but safe. “No, baby, open your eyes, you gotta stay awake for me, okay?”

Neither of you noticed Tyler watching you both closely, putting the pieces together.

“Let’s get you guys to the hospital to get patched up,” Dexter said. Tyler helped Kate up and Boone helped you up. You swayed on your feet slightly, and Boone immediately scooped you up to carry you. “Boone, you don’t have to–” “Shush.”

Tyler side-eyed you.

Boone carried you all the way back to the car.

At the hospital, you ended up passing out and getting stitches. You were thankful they did the stitches while you were unconscious. The hospital checked you in for the night to monitor you for any signs of severe head trauma.

You woke up to voices around nine that night. You kept your eyes closed and listened, identifying the voices as Boone’s and Tyler’s.

“I’m offended you thought I was that stupid, Boone,” Tyler said.

“Tyler, listen, I know I should have told you or hell, even asked you, but it just happened and we didn’t want to upset you with it,” Boone replied.

“I’m more upset you hid it from me.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

You opened your eyes. “Blame me, Tyler.”

They both turned to you with wide eyes, and were at your sides in an instant. Boone cradled your face, Tyler grabbed your hand.

“You’re awake!” Boone exclaimed, relieved.

You smiled at him before turning your attention to Tyler. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, Ty. I thought you’d have a problem with it and things were going so well we just didn’t want anything to rock the boat.”

Tyler sighed. “I don’t like seeing you date anyone but I guess if you have to date someone I’m happy it’s my best friend.”

Boone perked up. “You know I’ll treat her right, Ty.”

“Yeah, yeah. Ya’ll have my blessing or whatever.”

You relaxed in the bed, glad there were no more secrets between you and your brother and glad that you didn’t have to hide with Boone anymore.

“I love you guys.”

[berryz-writes]

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate

Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :)

The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.

Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.

Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.

His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.

Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.

***

"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.

"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.

Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"

She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"

Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.

"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.

***

Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.

"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"

Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.

***

All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?

Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.

The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.

He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.

A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.

She was a goddess.

She was the fulfilment of his dreams.

She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.

She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.

He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.

He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.

He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.

Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.

Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.

Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.

Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.

"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?

"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.

"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.

Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.

He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.

"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.

Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.

His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.

He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.

He watched as her lifeless body lay there.

Still.

The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.

Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.

He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.

Mate.

She was his mate.

He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.

Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.

Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her. 

His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.

The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.

His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.

A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.

His mate.

Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.

He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.

Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.

Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.

His mate.

His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?

The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.

The fates had known.

This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.

If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.

Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand,  but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.

He was damned. His fate was unlucky.

He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.

Without even realising his shadows had left him too.

"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.

Lyra

If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.

A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.

***

If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart

If only he had known.

Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.

Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.

Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.

Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.

Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.

Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.

....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that

MASTERLIST

[chloe-skywalker]

Door Open (Part 2) - Billy Hargrove

Part 2

Billy x Fem!reader Hopper

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Word count: 1,647

Summary: Neil went to far this time and Y/n wants Billy out.

Authors Note: Here’s Part 2! So this is only 2 parts but maybe I’ll make more if you all like it and would like more.

Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Part 1

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had been months since the dinner and things were good. They didn’t have to hide anymore. Billy had been over practically every day since. And to surprise everyone, Hopper didn’t mind. He actually grew to like the boy and his daughter turned out to be right. He was very different behind closed doors. But Hopper had sensed something off with him and he just wished he could figure it out. Although he might find out soon.

It was around midnight when Y/n heard the sound of tapping against her window. She turned her head and out the dark window was her boyfriend. Y/n got up and opened her window, helping him into her room.

When Y/n looked up at Billy once he was fully standing to the best of his ability at the moment. She was shocked, he had never looked this bad before. And that was saying something. “Oh God- Billy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Billy let out a huffed laugh even though it really hurt. He was pretty sure he had some cracked ribs. “It’s bad this time.”

Y/n looked him over with wide extremely concerned eyes. There were bruises everywhere old and new but the new were really nasty looking, and they weren’t even done developing yet. “No kidding.”

Y/n was glad that her door was shut right now so no questions would be raised. Y/n grabbed all her medical stuff she stored in her room, with the upside down crap and her boyfriend it came in handy. As she cleaned the cuts Billy occasionally hissed. “Sorry.”

Billy shook his head. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt as bad right now.”

Y/n let out a sigh knowing what needed to be done. She’d have to convince him though. “I can’t let you live there anymore, Billy.”

With a sigh of his own Billy answered sadly. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Y/n/n.”

“We could tell my dad.” y/n told him, her dad was the sheriff after all. She knew he could do something. “He could help.”

“Hopper already barely tolerates me. Why would he help me?” Billy knew him and Hopper seemed to be on good terms but it always felt like the other shoe would drop at any time. Billy never felt safe around adults, for good reasons.

Y/n reached for his hands and monevered on herself to also sit on her bed, looking him in the eyes. “He’d do it for me. Because as you said he is tolerating you- well he’s doing that for me. Plus my father doesn’t think kindly about people who abuse their children or any person abusing one. Look at El and her situation.”

Billy sat there thinking about her words for a moment before asking. “You think he’d really help me?”

Y/n nodded. “I do. Even if we weren���t together, hell even if we weren’t even friends. He’d still help you.”

Billy knew it was time, he had to agree with Y/n. He couldn’t live under Neil anymore. “Okay.”

“Really? I know how you feel about telling people anything personal, let alone this.” Y/n asked, wanting to make sure he was sure.

“Yeah. I think its time. I need out and I can’t do it on my own. Plus I don’t want anything like this to also happen to Max. She may be a brat but no one deserves what he’s capable of.” Billy nodded looking Y/n in the eyes. It needed to be done.

^     ^     ^

“Hey, dad?” Y/n spoke, poking her head out her door. Not opening in enough for anymore to see into her room. She didn’t want El and Mike seeing Billy’s state or asking questions. This needed to be between the 3 of them only.

“Hmmm?” Hopper hummed, shifting his eyes off El and Mike and to his oldest daughter.

“Can you come to my room for a sec?” She nodded back towards her door with raised brows, giving her dad a look to tell him it was private and serious.

“Sure.” Hopper nodded, getting up and heading to Y/n’s room.

“Thanks.” Y/n thanked him before pulling him into her room.

Upon entering her room Hopper saw Billy and he could feel his blood boiling. But upon a longer second look his more pressing question became ‘what happened to his oldest’s boyfriend?’ Billy wasn’t known to lose a fight. More than half the time he walked away with barely any bruises or scratches. But right now, Billy was sporting a black eye forming, a cut on his head, split lip, bruises old and new, and his shirt was completely unbuttoned showing off a really nasty almost black bruise across his ribs. Meaning to Hopper that his ribs were either extremely bruised, cracked but most likely a few were broken.

“What’s?” He glanced down at his daughter. “What’s going on?”

Y/n walked around him to pull out her desk chair gesturing for her dad to sit. “Can you sit down? Billy, has something he wants to tell you.”

Hopper did as he asked as Y/n went and sat down next to Billy, grabbing his hand in hers for what Hopper preserved was reassurance. “What’s wrong, kid?”

With that Billy went on to explain to Hopper all about Niels abuse. Every detail and for how long it had been going on for. He told the older man everything, with Y/n’s support. 

Hopper noticed when some things got hard for Billy to talk about he either looked to Y/n or she would squeeze his hand. He came to the conclusion that his daughter had become Billy’s safety blanket.

And he was proud of her for being there for the boy who had been through things that no child ever should go through.

“And I didn’t want to tell anyone or let anyone know because back in California no one seemed to notice or care so. . . My plan was just wait it out- till ya know, I turned 18.” Billy told the sheriff nervously bouncing his leg.

“But…” Y/n encouraged him to continue. He needed to get it out, she knew that.

“But, now he’s worse and the worse he gets I worry about him with Max now. He wouldn’t do anything before because of Susan, but he’s getting sloppy.” Billy appreciated more than he could ever put into words Y/n’s support. Everything she’s ever done for him, including loving him.

Y/n turned her attention to her dad with hopeful and nervous eyes. “Can you do anything to help?”

Hopper nodded, hell even if he couldn’t legally he’d find a way to get rid of that piece of shit. Niel Hargrove. “Yeah, I can help.”

Y/n nudged Billy shoulder to shoulder with a smile. “I told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Billy nodded with a small smile on his lips as well.

“But for now you can’t let him or Susan know that anything is out of the ordinary.” Hopper spoke up, leaning back in the chair.

Billy looked back at Hopper confused. “Out of the ordinary?”

“What do you mean dad?” Y/n asked as well, confused like Billy.

“We have an extra room. I want you to slowly start moving your stuff into it. And I want Max to slowly start moving her stuff here too, into El’s room. I’m sure they’ll love becoming roommates.” he scoffed thinking of how that was going to go. And how he and Billy will be outnumbered.

“The sleepover that never ends.” Y/n laughed, shaking her head happily at the thought.

“Exactly.” Hopper smiled, letting out a huff of air.

“I’m still confused.” Billy stated with a furrowed brow looking between the father and daughter confused.

Y/n squeezed his hand and gently pulled him closer, if that was even possible. Smiling at him, she was very happy at this new found situation. “You and Max are moving in. Here. With us.”

“I-” Billy was speechless looking at Hopper in shock. But Hopper could see the hint of relief in the young man's eyes.

“Son.” Hopper felt bad for the boy. This had obviously been going on for a long time and it had affected Billy more than he showed or let on. No wonder he starters fights, Hopper thought, he needs a cover for the bruises and a way to vent out his anger about his father. “Once things are all ready to go and in motion, things are gonna move fast. And I'm not going to have you or Max in that house or anywhere near it when it happens. Max I consider already like a daughter, she’s over enough to be one. And you Billy. I like you more than I would care to admit. You're like a son to me, I think you need to know that.”

Billy could only sit and look at his girlfriend's dad in complete shock. He could never find the words to tell Hopper how much this and what he said meant to him. Billy was very appreciative for what he was willing to do to help him. “Thank you, sir.”

Hopper stood up and placed his hand on Billy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Son, you can call me Hopper.”

Billy nodded. “Thanks Hopper.”

“No problem. I’ll get you a shirt to sleep in. You are not going back to that house tonight.” Hopper stated exiting the room to do as he said. This was a night where the closed door rule for the couple wouldn’t apply. Hopper wasn’t going to split them up tonight.

“He called me son. More than once.” Billy’s voice cracked and his eyes held happy tears as he looked to Y/n with a watery smile.

“Yeah, he did.” Y/n smiled at him, things were going to be okay now.

taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @starkleila

[gepardling]

I saw your blog and I love your writings sm🫶 Glad to see a fellow Gepard simp (JGKFKRJSHA HE'S SO HOT)

Going to my request, if you are fine with smut requests, is it okay for me to request husband!Gepard and spouse!gn!reader, featuring breeding kink and manhandling? It's up to you how you want to write how the story goes, surprise me 👀

Anyways, make sure to take care of yourself as well, stay hydrated, and thank you sm!!

happy anniversary w/ gepard.

desc. : im so srry for my mini-hiatus, my schedule is spaghetti ;p my mind was lowkey still buzzing abt the museum event, n i needed a good hook for da story okay !! to me, marriage means becoming a family, so i used dat to set the scene :) am also working on improving gn!reader smut so i hope i did good here ( wc : 1.9k )

tags / cw : nsfw, gn!reader, pretty fluffy i think, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), top!gepard, bottom!reader, aftercare, manhandling, breeding (I HOPE I DID THESE RIGHT, I'M SUCH A VANILLA PERSON), not proofread !

Gepard couldn’t help but wonder if he was cut out for fatherhood, given his past encounters with children. It seemed that whenever he interacted with little ones, they either burst into tears at the sight of him or found themselves quickly bored by his serious demeanor. As such, he had never entertained the idea of having a family of his own – not until he met you, at least.

You had a habit of taking Gepard’s entire world and turning it upside down, making him question everything he thought he believed up until that point. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and he quickly found himself drawn to your open-mindedness. Spontaneity was something that Gepard lacked in his life, and you delivered everything he needed and more. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you had married, and everyone knew it was a long time coming. No one could soften up the strict Captain like you could, especially when you manage to catch him off guard. Just the other day, Gepard's heartstrings were thoroughly scrambled when he saw you guiding a group of children through the museum. The way you handled the kids was beyond Gepard, and you taught history in a way that they understood, even enjoyed. 

After another one of your museum shifts, you and Gepard were relaxing at home. It was the evening of your first anniversary, having been married for a year. Gepard was immersed in a book, your head rested on his shoulder as you arranged your thoughts. Which is what brought you to this point. Here, in your shared home, you decided to finally raise the question. 

“You know,” you began softly, your voice carrying a mixture of wonder and uncertainty. “I can’t help but imagine… What if we had children?” Gepard’s demeanor instantly shifted, a fleeting tension washing over his body. Sensing his unease, you hurriedly backtracked. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to… And that’s okay!”

But before the words could fully escape your mouth, Gepard’s reassuring touch met your hand, his eyes filled with warmth. “No, not at all,” he assured. “You simply caught me off guard…” There was an excited tone to his voice, but some uncertainty still lingered deep beneath the surface. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you absorbed Gepard’s response. “I think it would be amazing,” you uttered, a dreamy lilt decorating your tone. Gepard’s fingers gently traced the wedding band adorning your finger, and he was instantly reminded of your wedding, how radiant you looked as you stood before him. The image of you, eyes filled with unwavering devotion, etched itself permanently in his heart.

Your gentle laughter caressed his ears as your hand cupped his cheek, pulling him back from his daydream. “Don’t worry, we can wait until you’re ready,” you replied, softly pecking him on the lips. “There’s no rush, after all.” But between your gentle touch and his devotion towards you, all this family talk was getting Gepard a little hot beneath the collar.

He was sure you were aware of it too – your touches growing tantalizingly slow as your lips lingered longer and longer on his. With that same old mischievous glint in your eyes, you took the book from Gepard’s hands and set it on the table across from you. You snaked your arms around his neck, gently shifting yourself into his lap.

"What are we still sitting out here for?" You whispered, forehead pressed against his own. "It's our anniversary after all." Gepard's hands slowly came to rest on your hips, a rosy hue spread across his cheeks. You brought your hands down from his neck, opting to work open the first few buttons of his shirt. Dipping your hands beneath the fabric, Gepard shuddered lightly at your cold touch.

He moved his hands from your hips to your wrists, gently gripping them. "Not on the couch," he breathed. Of course, same old Gepard. That's one rule that's never changed for the whole three years you've been with him. You gave him a quick peck on the nose, followed by a mock salute. Gepard smiled in return, uttering "Your form is off," before scooping you up in his arms. 

Your surprise was quickly muffled by his lips on yours, his kiss filled with love and devotion towards you. He made quick work of whisking you off to the bedroom, lightly tossing you onto the soft mattress of your shared bed. You could barely sit up before he was leaning over you, covering your body with his large frame. 

"We're not on the couch anymore, are you happy?" You teased, smiling up at him mischievously. Gepard only rolled his eyes in response, lowering his head to kiss you once again. It was deeper this time, only growing more heated as your hands continued to undress him. Before you could undo his belt, his grip on your wrist stopped your ministrations. 

"Allow me," he replied, moving to undress you instead. He wedged his knee between your thighs, pushing them open before laying between them. He kept his arms wrapped around your legs, preventing you from closing them again. When he dipped his head between your thighs, you could only gasp at the feeling of his mouth on your heat. 

Gepard had more than enough practice over the last few years, and that much was evident. His skilled tongue worked across your sex, rolling over your most sensitive parts. The sensation of his hot mouth caused little stars to spot your vision, nails gripping the sheets so tight you were sure you'd rip them. Your gasps were like music to his ears, only fueling the fire deep within. 

His slicked fingers worked you open, gently scissoring your hole. Your back arched at the feeling as Gepard carefully prepared you, sparks of pleasure dashing across your body. But as the buildup started to reach its peak, mere seconds before your vision could go white and the fires of release consumed you, the sudden loss of his fingers and mouth left you cold and empty. The sensation immediately dissipated, fading into obscurity. 

Your breathing was ragged as your body attempted to come to terms with the orgasm you never had, blinking away the stars that dotted your vision. "W-Wait," you whispered, raising yourself onto your elbows. "Why'd you st-" But just as the words were about to leave your mouth, Gepard had turned you around onto your stomach, hand resting on your upper back. His free hand hurriedly worked to release his cock from the confines of his pants, as he pressed gentle kisses to the skin of your shoulder blades. 

Before you could complain again, he sunk his member deep into your heat. The weight of his body suspended above yours only added to the pleasure, slowly thrusting in sync with the rhythmic contraction of your walls. Each thrust was coupled with the soft grind of his hips, slowly working you back up to your pleasure point. He took his time, butterfly kisses dotting the back of your neck and ears. 

"Gepard…" You sighed, to which he replied with a soft hum. While you sincerely enjoyed his languid pace, you needed something more to soothe the ache in your loins. You pressed back against him, breathing a quiet “Faster,” to which he replied with a chuckle. Gepard slipped two fingers between your lips, hushing you with quiet whispers. 

You swirled your tongue around his digits, the cool metal of his wedding band contrasting the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled back his hand, a small whine escaped your lips, but your breath soon hitched in your throat as he suddenly increased his pace. He kept his hand pressed down on your lower back, preventing you from bucking back against him as he took you at his own pace. 

The way his cock slammed into you left you gasping for air, brushing against your deepest pleasure points. The heat was rising exponentially, drawing the knot in your belly tighter and tighter with each thrust. Gepard’s lips met the back of your ear, gently pressing kisses to the side of your head. As your cries intensified, you buried your face in the closest pillow you could reach, desperate to muffle the throes of your passion. 

But Gepard didn’t like the way you tried to hide, and he was quick to swipe the pillow from your hold. He pulled out in the process, and you whined at the sudden loss of contact. The heat from your core dissipated once again, and your orgasm fizzled out of reach a second time. Before you could make your disdain known, his hands gripped your hips to turn you around onto your back. 

At your gasp of surprise, his hands met your knees, pushing your thighs up against your chest. He buried himself back in your core, and the roughness of his actions made you wail into your palm. Gepard lowered himself to your face, prying your hand away with his own to clash his lips against yours. You reciprocated the kiss, interlocking your fingers with his. He swiped his tongue against your lower lip, to which you opened your mouth, your tongue meeting his. 

When he pulled back, your lips chased his, breaking the delicate string of saliva between you. Your chest heaved as you tried to regain your breath, tiny tears dotting your vision. You felt like you were melting in his hold, the heat of the moment escalating far beyond your limits. Your sighs were like music to Gepard’s ears as he made love to you, consummating your marriage a second time.

The hand from your thigh moved down to your abdomen, pressing into the skin to feel the way he moved inside of you. He gripped your hand tighter, slightly increasing the pace to chase his orgasm. His cock glided effortlessly, bruising your deepest parts as you sang him praise. The pressure rose even higher in your core, building on your previously denied release. 

Amidst his passion, Gepard managed to grunt out a quiet “Where do you want it?” ghosting his lips along the side of your face. You managed to compose yourself just enough to answer, barely squeaking out “Inside,” before another moan tore itself from your throat. Gepard’s hands came to rest on your thighs again, burying himself impossibly deep in your core.

The sensation of his load warming you from within sent you over the edge as well, whispers of his name escaping your lips as your nails dug into his arm. Sparks of electrifying bliss enveloped your body, walls clenching around his cock. Gepard rode out his high, gently grinding his hips against yours. His lips met yours again, this time kissing you much softer than before. 

When he pulled away, some of his cum dripped from your core. You finally released your iron grip on his hand, sitting up to meet him at eye-level. “Why don’t we go get cleaned up,” you asked, your hand cupping the side of his face. Gepard hummed in approval, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm. 

“I think a bath would do,” he spoke, pulling you off the bed and into his arms. Though you weren’t really sure how much cleaning you’d actually get done. All in all, any time you got to spend with your beloved husband was a win in your books.

(melts) i saw a ballet concert, had my hair done, went out w/ my dad nd played league wit my friends. nun of these activities allowed me 2 write my smutty smut dis week waahhhh hopefully back on schedule now :') i tried 2 write dis extra long as an apology, also referenced multiple online sources 4 gn!smut 2 attempt 2 educate myself........

[jo-harrington]

On-the-Job Training (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve has a crush on the Dippin' Dots cashier.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Late Summer of 1985, Steve and Robin work at Scoops, Reader works at Dippin' Dots, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Enemies to Lovers(sort of?), Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: Ok what started off as a silly little conversation about what flavor chapstick each ST character would use turned into this and I typically don't write Steve...but I had to give him some love.

Tagging my loves who were integral to that convo to thank them for inspiration especially Drac who started it all. This is for you bb. @dr-aculaaa @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @somnambulic-thing @fracturedarkness @br0ck-eddie

Technically slightly anachronistic because Dippin' Dots didn't open until 1988 but I'm a stickler for accuracy in the regular series. This is just a fun little do-dad.

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Largely unedited; I didn't even re-read it. It's might suck. Enjoy!

---

"Ahoy! One U.S.S. Butterscotch!"

Steve never thought that this would be his future after graduation.

This summer he should have been living it up before he went away to college and made something of himself. Lifeguarding at the pool, going to all the parties, hanging out with his friends.

Instead, his life went to shit, Nancy Wheeler had broken up with him, he had gotten rejection letter after rejection letter from the schools he had applied to...and instead of working at the pool like he had every summer since he turned 16, he had a crappy job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy of all places at the new StarCourt Mall.

"Thanks so much," the sweet lady who had placed the order smiled at him and handed the sundae to her son. "Look at that Frankie, your favorite." The little boy shot Steve a grin complete with his two front teeth missing and Steve melted a little bit.

Alright, it wasn't so bad. He got to make people smile, he got some spending money--which was nice since his dad had pretty much cut him off, although his mom was sneaking him some cash on the side.

"Look alive dingus," Robin called from the window separating the front of the ice cream parlor from the backroom. "Your schmoopsie poo is here."

"Shut up Rob!" Steve groaned through gritted teeth.

One of the perks of working at the mall was that he got to interact with people of all shapes and sizes and yeah...Steve had tried to use it as a means to get over Nancy. He'd had little hours-long crushes on fellow mall employees, customers, Robin--although working with her made that difficult--hell there was even a manager that had caught his eye towards the beginning of summer except he'd seen Eddie "The Freak" Munson of all people hanging around her.

Although after a few months of seeing Eddie around StarCourt not being a wastoid menace, Steve had to admit...well he wasn't that bad either.

The one who'd caught his eye the most though was you, and yeah...he'd developed an actual big little long-lasting crush.

You, who came around for a root-beer float most afternoons.

You, whose smile made his heart skip a little.

You in your pink polo, teal apron, and white visor with the words Dippin' Dots emblazoned on the front.

The enemy.

And you never let him forget it either.

Steve had been heart eyes over you the first time you had entered into Scoops territory to order your float. Undercover in casual summer clothes a week after the mall had opened. There was just something about you, your smile, your laugh.

Robin teased that he said that about everyone; Steve ignored her.

Then you opened your mouth and said the float was good but the service could have been better. That Steve should stop by Dippin' Dots sometime and see how it was really done.

Shots fired.

It really hurt at first. This was his first real job outside of the community pool, one he had been excited to get. He was really nice, tried his best; why didn't you think so?

"It's called flirting," Robin insisted. "God, you really suck, you know that? How can you ask people out willy nilly and then miss someone flirting with you right in front of your face? Flirt back next time."

So he did.

Every so often he'd mosey across the mall to your kiosk, order a small vanilla cup, and throw a little insult of his own your way. Usually something about how tiny balls of ice cream could never beat an actual scoop. Or about how you didn't count his change the right way, or that your visor was on crooked.

You wouldn't hesitate to get your own comment in. Especially about his choice in flavor.

"You work at an ice cream parlor and you order vanilla?" you questioned. "A hundred flavors to choose from at scoops; do you only get vanilla there too? Vanilla...is good but when you have variety? Order something exciting one day, and then we can talk business, Stevie."

Oof, it steamed him.

But not enough to stop playing the game.

And it left you both grinning so who was he to end the fun.

So when you showed up at Scoops today after not being around for a few days and your smile didn't reach your eyes like it usually did...Steve was suddenly overcome with...well he didn't really know.

"Ahoy, uh, sailor," he greeted and tried to put on his biggest award-winning, tip-earning smile.

"Ahoy," you replied weakly.

"Root beer float?" he asked, already heading over to the case to start scooping ice cream into a cup.

"Uh," you hesitated. "No, just...just a small vanilla cup today."

Steve froze and looked at you. Your shoulders were slumped, you had your visor in your hand, and you were pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

What was...what was wrong with you?

Where was your fight? Where was your fire? Why, all of a sudden, was your game over?

"Hey, uhm," he coughed awkwardly. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, Steve," you nodded absently.

"You always get root beer."

"I just want vanilla today."

"The special is salted caramel? I can give you a sample if you're--"

"No, I just want vanilla," you cut him off and rolled your eyes. "You always get vanilla. Why is it a problem if I suddenly do? Vanilla is good too. Maybe vanilla is just...what we both want ok? Nothing else."

He was shocked. That wasn't playful annoyance in your voice; you were just...annoyed.

"Sure," he agreed. "Sure. One small vanilla coming right up."

He got your ice cream and rang you out, and as you were about to leave, he called after you.

"See you in a little while?" he asked.

"If you want." You waved goodbye and headed out of the ice cream parlor.

Steve turned and looked at Robin who simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"You're hopeless," she sighed and slammed the shutters on the window closed.

---

Steve roamed around the mall on his break.

Typically, he'd make his way to Dippin' Dots but...that just seemed like a waste of time today.

He'd fixated on your visit for the rest of his shift until his break, analyzing everything he said, everything he did. Everything that could have made you mad at him.

Once he got Robin out of her hiding spot in the back room, he monologued all of his thoughts to her.

She watched him pace back and forth, called him a dingus a few times, a loser a few other times, and then finally sent him on his break with some last words.

"I know you're hearing everything they're saying Steve," she began. "But are you really listening? You just keep...ordering vanilla."

"Uh. Yeah. That's the game."

"It's not a game you...ughhhhh! GO!" She pointed to the exit. "Before I throttle you."

Why couldn't she just tell him? What had he done?

In his rumination, he'd been chewing at his lips. A habit he had pretty much done his entire life when he got nervous.

Shit, and he'd left his chapstick in the car; it was hot, it probably melted by now.

That was one of the little ways you made his life a little better...through your teasing. You had told him, once, that his lips looked dry.

"Maybe invest in some chapstick or something."

He'd gone to Melvald's that same night that you told him and got a 3-pack of strawberry chapstick. All the while wondering if it meant you had been looking at his lips for a while or...

But it was...just another little jab right? Another little flirt? Another part of your game?

Still, he never knew when you might show up so the chapstick became a constant--something that soothed him even, gave him courage--and he always had a tube tucked into the pocket of his shorts, or on the register, or in the cupholder of his car. To swipe on if he knew he was about to see you...or hoped he was.

And now...he desperately needed it, needed his strawberry chapstick--needed you--and it was nowhere to be found.

Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at the stores around him.

WaldenBooks, Regis Salon, JH Camera Repair.

Claires.

Bingo.

He'd seen little kids with their play makeup and sparkly plastic jewelry post up in one of the booths at Scoops after they spent their allowance money at Claire's. He had to find strawberry chapstick there. He'd even take cherry. Something.

Anything.

Steve crossed into the pink-and-purple-and-pop-music-filled oasis to a melodic "Welcome In" from the employee helping a little girl by the ear piercing booth. And as out of place as he felt, he was immediately relieved to see a wall full of eyeshadow palettes and glitter hairspray.

He closed the distance and frantically searched the wall, but it was all novelty makeup. There was one package of Dr. Pepper lip smackers, but the package was half-ripped and the cap was missing; he was a little worried but he figured it was better than nothing.

He was about to snatch it off the hook when that voice sounded behind him.

"Did you need help finding anything?" He immediately turned on his heel to find the employee--the manager, Eddie Munson's girlfriend--standing there in a flourish of tulle and fluorescent colors. "Oh! That's a customer favorite...looks like it's damaged though, let me just..."

She reached out to take the package but Steve reacted instinctually. He quickly grabbed it and clutched it to his chest.

"I don't mind," he tried to reason. "I don't care if it's missing the cap."

"Listen, I can't sell it to you if it's damaged," the manager explained. "It's just not safe. Is there anything else I can help you find though?"

She reached for the package again but he held it back.

"I need this," Steve tried again.

"Oh...kay."

"Because I messed up and this...you know the cashier down at the Dippin' Dots kiosk? Well...I don't know...I pissed them off or something and I just need to...go down and talk to them and I can't."

"So the lip balm is a gift for them? To make amends?"

"No...it's for me because my lips are dry." Steve sighed. "I...ok I know it sounds crazy, but I swear. It's...they got me to start using chapstick because they said my lips were dry and it's this thing we do. We go back and forth and we tease each other.

"But they're mad at me now, and they didn't...I mean they ordered vanilla. They never order vanilla. They hate it when I order vanilla."

"Uh huh." The manager's eyes went a little soft. "I'm not...really following the logic...but I get it."

"You do?"

"You like each other. But you're just...going back and forth. And no one has really...admitted it," she observed. She suddenly burst into laughter and Steve cocked his head to one side in confusion. "Sorry, sorry...it's just...whatafuckincoincidence.

"So are you the one who's afraid of being rejected? Or...are they...or..."

Cue the record scratch in Steve's head.

Rejection.

All summer...all year actually...Steve had been faced with one rejection after another. First Nancy, then all of the college applications, his dad and now...all of the little fleeting mall crushes that he'd asked out that had said no.

Robin had even made a scoreboard that sat in the back whenever someone turned him down.

He thought all this time...he'd become immune to it. But with you...it was easier to think it was just a game than to possibly face the reality that if he asked you out...you'd say no and then the little game would be ruined. And his hopes would be dashed.

He didn't realize that all of his waffling could potentially be hurting you too.

"Why don't you," the manager continued when Steve hesitated to answer, "go down there and talk to them? Even if they're mad at you. Communication is very important. I'm sure if you explain everything, or even...just show that you're willing to bridge the gap, they'd be willing to listen. The worst they could say is no, but if they're already mad, you have nothing to lose. See if they'll give you a chance."

"So I...shouldn't order vanilla this time?" He looked up at her and asked, recalling your words.

Order something exciting, and then we can talk business.

The door had been open for him to ask you out this whole time.

And that's why you ordered vanilla earlier. Because Vanilla meant...meant that this...flirtation...this game...wasn't going anywhere. He hadn't made a move, so you didn't want to wait anymore.

God, he was so stupid.

"Uh, no...don't do that," the manager smiled kindly. She reached out for the broken lip balm and took it from him. "I'll just...damage this out."

"Wait...but my lips are still dry," Steve floundered. "I still need chapstick."

"Do you think there's gonna be some kissing happening?" the manager's eyes narrowed. "I said talk to them, not...plant one on them."

"I just need...something," he begged. "Strawberry...if you have it."

"I think we have strawberry flavored lip gloss by the register."

"I'll take it."

---

So there Steve was, in the concourse by JCPenney, patiently waiting in the line for Dippin' Dots with sticky, strawberry-flavored lips tinted a very nice shade of pink.

As soon as he had swiped the gloss on...as silly as he had felt...he had been reminded of you.

"Next!" your voice sounded every so often and the line got shorter and shorter, and Steve's courage got weaker and weaker. The Claire's manager had been right though...communication...the worst you could tell Steve was "no."

"Next!" You'd be just another tally on Robin's scoreboard. And she could call him a dingus again. She really enjoyed doing that. So some good would at least come from his failure.

"Next!" He'd also get...a cup of Dippin' Dots which...if he had to admit, he kinda enjoyed. He got all the Scoops ice cream he wanted for free but this was different. Ice Cream of the Future and all that. He sort of expected Henderson to come up with something like this, the little nerd; well, if he could never show his face here again, he'd ask the kids if they could figure out how to make some kind of futuristic ice cream for him.

"Ne--oh!" Steve finally got to the front of the line and saw your shocked face. He smiled and waved as he approached the register.

"Hey," he greeted. "I told you I'd see you around."

"You did," you said flatly and scrunched your nose. "So...the usual? Small vanilla cup?"

"Uh no..." Steve said hesitantly. You raised an eyebrow in question. "I uh...can I get a large..."

"Large vanilla?" You sniffed.

"Large Rainbow Ice," he recited after squinting at the menu board. "It's time for something new."

You stared at him silently and Steve couldn't help but doubt himself.

What if Rainbow Ice was the wrong answer? Should he have gone with Banana Split? Shit he should have just stuck with Strawberry. It was his favorite. Strawberry chapstick, strawberry gloss, strawberry ice cream. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Yeah," you finally answered with a beaming smile and Steve's heart soared. "Yeah it is time for something new, isn't it?"

Next Part: Incremental Planning

[quigonswife8]

Saved her first: Leon Kennedy x reader

After he saved her first, you fight.

——

A/N: thank you for 90 something likes on my last fic, that means so much to me SOBS. especially since that was the first thing I posted since last year so thank you again.

BTW I'M NOT HATING ON ADA. I love Ada she's one of my favourite characters just for this fic you kinda hate her. I can’t come up with titles i swear😭

Warnings: Angst, sad, fight, implications of more than romance in a few parts.

Gif creds: @leon-jpg

----

Ada Wong. The name like poison on your tongue. The red-dressed mercenary, here one minute, gone the next. The woman, always seems to linger, like shadows on a forlorn path.

The first time you and the merc met, you were fixing him up- Leon Scott Kennedy. Ada had walked over a hint of something in those eyes. She eyed you confused, then looked over at Leon a hint of familiarity in her eyes.

They know eachother?

"Hello Leon."

"Ada...." Leon had replied, low and with a quiet grunt. He wouldn't even stare her in the eyes, only keeping those eyes on you, the person he secretly loves. Ada can tell something is going on...her eyes go to his finger no ring, then they fall onto you.

This "Ada" doesn't seem annoyed by you, though you still can't help but feel insecure next to her. She's so beautiful, her outfit clinging to her like perfection, surely Leon loves that...right?

"Well i'll be going." that's it? "see you around.".

The woman gives a wink to both of you before disappearing, and Leon rolls his eyes. He's very cute you can't help but smile a little at his reaction to this woman. Though soon you grow glum and Leon, once he turns to you, notices your change in attitude.

"She's nothing more than a friend to me."

Despite only being friends Leon takes your hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. His blue eyes try and meet yours and when he's successful you note the small smile on his lips. Oh how you wanna kiss those lips so bad...

"Who...is she Leon-"

"We met in racoon." He replies not meaning to cut you off. A sigh follows and he runs a hand through his messy hair, "I was 21 at the time I told you, and she came along and turned my world upside down. As cheesy as that sounds, I liked it...liked how she made me feel. Then everything...stuff happened, and I met you, and I knew I had...found my person."-

-

After that day, one year later to be exact, you became a thing. After a kiss in the rain, his fingers running along your cheek, a question fell from the agent's lips. "be mine?" he'd whispered so softly into your ear, so softly it was almost like he could put you to sleep- not in a bad way, of course.

After spending the night together where he held you so gently and livingly, the next day he woke you up with breakfast in bed. Things only got better after that day, they seemed to be going well. Leon had gotten a promotion, you were scheduled to meet someone big for a job, and on top of that, your romantic life was pretty good.

That was...until Ada returned.

-

"I'm sorry!-"

"What a lie Kennedy.", you snap, scoffing. Dragging yourself to the half-opened supply chest you take some medicine for the headache brought on by him.

"If you were sorry you would have saved me first, not your her."

It's heartbreaking; Leon swore to you that he would always choose you, he made a promise. The two of you had gotten into a serious relationship and yet as soon as she returns it's like the past.

There was a monster. A scary, uneven limbed monster that had treaded towards the three of you. It had managed to disarm you so there was no way to grab the weapon. However it also disarmed her, Leon being the only one with a weapon still. It was choosing between the two of you to kill, you had expected Leon to run over and protect you.

He...didn't . He had run over to Ada first and protected her, while you were forced to watch. It was like someone had stabbed you in the heart and ripped said heart out, that's how much it hurt. Leon realised what he had done...he had looked over and seen your reaction, his heart breaking.

"How could you-"

"I'm sorry!"

Leon repeats, pacing the room. His hand sliding through his messy hair, his eyes to the floor- those eyes that look at you with such love now contain regret and pain.

"I-"

"No."- you cut him off with a scoff, your eyes full of tears. Tugging on the bandage of your right hand you shake your head.

"...no I...I need space-"

"Please-"

The fight only escalates from there. Leon grows angry, the two of you falling into a yelling match yet neither seem to want to say what's said. After the fight you end up storming out leaving Leon behind in tears and anger.

---

The house is dark when you return. The memory of playing monopoly the previous evening, nothing more than that- a memory. The stains on your cheeks evidence of the tears that have fallen for the past few hours. The house is cold, depressing, it makes you miss his arms around you despite being mad at him.

Memories of...that fight replay. You can barely even remember half of what was said. In the past, yeah, you've fought, just never this serious. Never in a way that threatened an end to your relationship.

With careful yet shaking fingers you take the phone off the wall and sit down on the leather couch. He used to hold you here, now all that occupies this space is one person- you. With those same shaky fingers you scroll to your photo gallery- your screen becomes wet as the heartbreak sets in.

That day you had been so happy...now you feel like dying.

"Leon!"

You scream into the empty house, sobs wracking your broken body. The phone makes a thud hitting the ground, your knees coming up to your chest. It hurts, you just wish you could go back in time and prevent the argument from happening. Both of you messed up, while you blame him for the whole fight you know you messed up too.

"LEON!"

It's pointless. Leon is never coming back to you, you'll always be lonely....although, only your brain convinces you of this. Leon never said this he only scoffed and treaded to, you're sure, the nearest bar to drown his sorrows.

Pressing your body onto the couch you close your eyes drifting off into more sorrow

Time skip

He should be at a bar, drowning his sorrows in alcohol- that's what usually happens...right? No, this time it's different. He's walking through the almost-desolate store hands full of your favorite things. "it's my fault" he says out loud not caring if he looks crazy right now.

Leon holds back his tears, while walking to the car. The non-motorbike which he would usually have, but ended up crashing, sits in the parking spot. Leon gets flashbacks of all the times you've driven around, his hand in yours, planting kisses to your cheeks.

"I'm such an idiot."

Leon loads everything into the car and hops in. Sighing softly he starts up the car and drives off to your shared home praying that you'll forgive him.

----

"I'm sorry."

His hands are around you, practically crushing you. His tears soak the white t-shirt that clings to you, his face buried so deeply. Leon is a mess which is rare since he doesn't like showing these types of emotions often.

"Baby please forgive me."

His hands shake, his heart racing so fast you can feel it.

"...was such a fool, I messed up. I didn't mean to- damn it" and like before he clings to you, except this time it's tighter. Leon holds you like he's holding the world, like if he lets you go then the "world" will disappear. He crushes you not even caring, the fear takes over anything else.

"You hurt me by choosing her."

"I know- I know baby I know"

Leon looks up at you, his lip quivering. He stares at you terrified of losing you. He runs a hand along that same scar, pressing forward to press a wet kiss to your cheek. "...i'll make it up to you I promise, ti amo." Leon brushes his stubble against your cheek- "Ti amo...ti amo tanto."

His Italian makes you swell, even though you're upset with him. It's like he's breaking down your defenses slowly yet surely, yet that fight still lingers. How you found out they slept together, the complicated yet intimate feelings they shared, the way they shared a kiss the night everything changed for him.

"If you really don't love her-"

"I don't! I stopped loving her when I fell for you."

Leon leans closer, wiping the tears from your cheeks- you never realized you started crying. He smiles weakly his hands taking yours.

"I love you. Always, baby."

Leon waits, he waits to see if you'll realise he's right. If you'll kiss him, hug him, hold him like before. The waterworks threaten to spill, you stare at him in silence....there's nothing but silence. The intimacy and heartbreak are the only emotions present right now....and Leon waits.

He waits...waits, hoping you'll forgive him- if you don't, he's not sure what he'll do. In one last attempt he mutters your name...the sound of your name on his lips...finally seeming to break you. With your left hand you raise it and touch his tear covered cheek...and with your right you wipe the tears away.

"I forgive you and I..." You sigh. "I'm still a bit upset at what you did but I...I messed up too. I love you."

Just like that Leon pulls you into a tight, "scared of letting you go" like before, kiss. He causes you to melt into the kiss, kissing back with such love and lust, almost causing a needy whine to fall from your lips. He holds you tight in his arms the kiss drawing out, something both of you desperately needed.

--

I don't know how to end fics istg but hope ya'll like this anyways :)

[sapphire-writes]

an ego thing ~ modern!Aemond x Reader

previous part 5 // next part 7 // series masterlist

summary: Aemond and you go out on a date! A cute date. A normal, totally innocent, and sweet date. You can do that, right? warnings: 18+ spicy stuff below the cut (smut, explicit p in v, fingering, exhibitionist, dirty talk, praise, daddy kink), language

word count: 2.6k

note: academic rival date night! hope you enjoy it my loves I went a lil wild with this one but what's a girl gonna do!

A date with Aemond Targaryen.

A motherfucking date. With Aemond Targaryen.

If you had told yourself a month ago you would be getting ready for a date with him, you would have laughed in your own face. Nor that you hadn’t always found him alluringly attractive, you had, but he was also a raging know-it-all.  

Now you were sitting in front of your floor-length mirror, applying the finishing touches of makeup as Baela chatted with you from her bed. She lay upside down on her pastel blue comforter, legs propped against the wall and her head hanging over the edge. Her silver curls fell like waves barely brushing against the floor. 

“Tell me what you’re doing again?” she begs, cheeks turning pink all the blood rushing to her head.

You chuckle.

“Bae, you’re going to pass out and fall. And I will laugh at you,” you tell her, meeting her eyes through the mirror. 

“So rude,” she says, but she pulls herself up, propping her chin on her hands. 

“We’re just grabbing dinner and seeing a movie,” you tell her, “typical, normal, first date stuff.”

“And then you’ll ride him in the back of that sexy car of his,” Baela adds, as you flush, “totally normal.”

“We are not fucking in his car,” you insist.

“Why not?” she asks, “car sex is hot.”

You roll your eyes.

“It’s a date,” you tell her, “I want to be wined and dined. Like a lady.”

“Screw being a lady,” Baela groans impatiently, “let him fuck you like a whore!”

She holds a hand up as you go to protest.

“Correction! Let him fuck you like a whore again,” she says snickering. 

Your cheeks are on fire and you grab a nearby pillow chucking it at her as she descends into giggles.

“Oh Aemond,” she says imitating you, “that tongue, those fingers fuck!”

“I told you that in confidence!” you yell, getting up to attack her, laughing while you do stuff.

“Shove your fat cock-”

“Baela!” you say, covering her mouth with your hand as a knock comes from the door. 

You and Baela widen your eyes as you keep your hand on her mouth.

“Be quiet,” you order your best friend and she nods, violet eyes full of mischief. 

You remove your hand and she gives one final fake moan before pressing her lips together. You love her, but you could kill her all the same. Fixing your hair and dusting yourself off, you go to open the door. 

Aemond’s tall form greets you, and he gives you a polite smile. You look him up and down, cheeks burning. 

Has he always looked this good?

His silver hair is braided down his back, out of his face. He’s wearing dark jeans tonight, he’s always in dark colors it seems, with a black leather jacket over a dark green flannel open to reveal a black t-shirt. You’re so close you can smell his cologne, it makes your mouth water. 

Aemond’s eyes scan you. You chose a classic, little black dress that hugs you all the ways a good dress should. Short, but not too short, revealing just the right amount of your thighs. You paired it with a comfy cardigan, in case the theater gets cold. And a rather sexy choice of panties.

Not that Baela was right or anything. Just in case. 

There’s a hungry look in Aemond’s eyes as he roams your form, sending warmth pooling in your belly. 

“Hey,” you breathe, “I’m ready.”

“I brought you these,” Aemond says, revealing a small bouquet of lavender tulips.

Your face flushes and you smile, surprised.

“Thank you,” you say taking them, “that’s really sweet of you, Aemond.”

“Of course,” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pocket.

You place the flowers on your desk and grab your purse. 

“Have fun you two!” Baela says smirking, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“She’s so funny, she’s hilarious, haha,” you jokingly glare at Baela as you hurry Aemond out, cloning the door.

“You look amazing,” Aemond says, gaze softening. 

“So do you,” you tell him.

Aemond and you came to a decision a day before the date. Both of you have very strong personalities and clearly wanted the date to be perfect. He chose dinner, you chose the movie. You had to admit Aemond had excellent taste. The restaurant he chose was way nicer than any place you’d been before, though when you told him he merely shrugged.

“This is nothing,” he tells you, “next time we’ll go all out.”

Next time.

It sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine to hear him talk so openly about the idea of going on multiple dates with you. 

While dinner was a huge success (minus the brief heated debate you got into when discussing a recent history lesson) your end of the date was not turning out the way you planned. 

“Shit, they’re sold out of The Queen Who Never Was,” you say, looking at the showtimes board. 

Damn, you were really looking forward to a sappy romance movie. Historical fiction, based on a woman you greatly admired. You wanted this date to be perfect. You pout, looking at Aemond. He scans the board releasing a hum.

“What about Sins of the Flesh?” he asks, pointing at the upcoming showtime. 

You glance at the poster on the wall. It looks innocent enough, just a rose on a black backdrop. The title is alluring but it's probably fine. It’s been out for a while it seems. 

“Um, okay,” you answer, “I’m down for anything as long as we get popcorn.”

Aemond chuckles. 

“Of course,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

“What’s a movie without popcorn?” 

After you buy your tickets and snacks, you head to the theater. The theater is pretty empty, except for a couple of middle-aged women near the front rows. You suppose since the movie has been out for a while, everyone who really wanted to see it has already.

You and Aemond choose the last row, plopping into the comfy seats. You glance over at him as the lights begin to dim. He looks ridiculously handsome in the low light, the shadows catching the angles of his face. 

Your stomach turns nervously and suddenly it's not the popcorn you’re craving. You place the bucket in the seat next to you as the movie begins. 

You need to chill out. What is it about Aemond Targaryen that makes you feel like a horned-up teenager? You take a deep breath feeling his hand grab yours. You meet his eye and he smiles softly. 

See? Cute. This is a cute date. Stop being so filthy. 

You smile back and decide to focus on the movie. 

The gods are clearly not in favor of you having a cute, innocent date night. Only twenty minutes in and our main character has become the paramour to a knight and is getting railed in a pleasure house, obscene moans filling the nearly empty theater. 

Your cheeks are on fire and you don’t dare look at Aemond as the main character lets out another pornographic moan. 

This is going to be a long two hours.

Maybe you should take Baela’s advice, surely car sex after a date isn’t so bad, hell you and Aemond have already had sex plenty of times, so it’s totally-

What is that?

A hand is touching your knee, yanking you out of your thoughts. You glance down seeing Aemond’s long fingers rubbing circles on top of your knee. Your breath catches in your throat as you turn your head ever so slightly to look at him. 

He’s facing forward watching the screen, apparently very engrossed in the nipple play going on between the knight and the main character. Your eyes fall back to his hand watching as it creeps higher up your leg. 

Aemond’s fingers dance along the skin of your thigh, dipping between them to caress the soft skin that never sees the sun. Your lips part as you watch the lazy circles he traces. Aemond adjusts his position sitting, turning his head toward you, and leaning down close to your ear. 

“You’re missing the movie,” he whispers, his tone teasing. 

You meet his eyes and he nods toward the screen.

“Watch,” he tells you. 

You pause only a moment before bringing your eyes back to the screen. You can’t focus. All you can focus on is the feeling of Aemond’s fingers nudging your thighs apart, and how you eagerly open them for him to do as he pleases.

Aemond chuckles at that, stroking a finger against the lace of your panties. You dig your nails into the leather armrests. 

The pad of his finger presses into your clit, feeling the wet spot that has already formed simply from him stroking your thighs. 

He chuckles again, fingers looping around the lace, pulling it to the side. 

“You’re this wet already?” he says as you gasp when he strokes his fingers through your silky folds, “such a needy girl.”

Your breathing is labored, coming out in short pants as he teases your clit.

“Keep that pretty mouth quiet, baby,” he murmurs, sinking two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. 

Your hips buck up off the seat meeting his hand, desperate for him to be deeper inside of you. A quiet moan leaves your lips.

“Shh,” Aemond croons, curling his fingers against your spongy walls.

The palm of his hand grinds against your sensitive clit and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. A woman in the front gets up and walks out, seemingly going to the bathroom. You feel a bead of nervous sweat run down your neck as Aemond continues his torturous ministrations, winding a pleasurable current in your lower belly. 

“Aemond,” you breathe through your teeth.

You’re just on the edge of coming, your thighs beginning to tremble with your impending release. 

“Come on my fingers baby,” Aemond tells you, “that’s a good girl.”

A small squeak leaves your lips as you clench around his fingers. Aemond continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm until you’re whispering to him to stop.

“Please, please, Aemond,” you beg, the overstimulation causing tears to form in your eyes. 

“Hmm,” Aemond says, slowly removing his fingers from you, lazily wiping them on your bare thigh.

The movie is still going, it takes him barely any time at all to turn you to absolute mush in his hands, on his cock, under his tongue. Sex with him is seriously incredible. 

His hand remains on your thigh and just when you think you’re in the clear, his fingers curl squeezing into the tender flesh. You meet his eyes, greeted by dark pupils dilated with lust. Aemond grins wickedly, before snaking his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his lap.

You moan, feeling his hardness underneath you, straining through his jeans. Aemond leans forward, kissing your neck up to your ear, pulling your back flush against his chest.  

“Keep watching the movie baby,” he murmurs, hands fiddling with his belt, “let me do all the work.”

“Aemond,” you moan as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. 

You hear his belt unbuckle, and his pants unzip. Holy shit you’re really doing this. You open your eyes, you can see the back of the heads of the only other group in the theater. They’re engrossed in the movie, no way they’ll turn back. 

“Hips up,” Aemond murmurs, and you do as you’re told.

You can feel the tip of his cock poking between your slick lips before you sink down engulfing him. Your eyes roll back as you take him completely, the new angle of reverse riding him bringing him deeper inside of you. Aemond places his hands on your hips lifting you, supporting you by riding his cock.

“Oh fuck,” you mewl desperately as pleasure tightens your abdomen. 

“You like riding my cock where anyone could see?” Aemond asks, “I thought I was dating a good girl, but you’re just a dirty little slut.”

“Fuck Aemond,” you breathe, lifting your hips to assist him. 

“You’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you?” he asks, “Where anyone could see that you’re all mine, huh?”

“Yes,” you whimper, “yes Aemond fuck, wherever you want.”

“Such a good girl,” he praises, “knows just how to make me happy huh?” 

Gods the pleasure is blinding, the way he’s talking to you it's all too much. His fingers move to your clit stroking gently against the sensitive nub as he’s whispering such filthy confessions in your ear, you can’t help yourself. You’re so far gone, head buzzing with greedy pleasure you find yourself babbling back at him. 

“Yes Daddy,” you moan, and Aemond freezes his kisses on your neck. 

Your cheeks flush and your throat constricts as your eyes snap open. Oh shit. You’ve never done that with anyone. Ever. Oh my god. Have you just utterly embarrassed yourself? You keep moving your hips slightly, your heart pounding wildly against your ribs. 

Before you have a chance to say anything the woman who left for the bathroom returns. Aemond clamps his hand over your mouth as you pause your movements. If you’re still there’s no way she’ll notice you, you’re both so shrouded in darkness in the back row. 

As she takes her seat Aemond resumes his thrusts, quickening his movements on your clit. You wonder for a moment if he’ll just forget what you said, fuck the embarrassment from your body before he speaks. 

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” he purrs, nibbling against your neck, “you like that huh? I feel you clenching around my cock.”

“Fuckkk,” you wantonly mewl, “yes Aemond, just like that.”

“Come, pretty girl, all over Daddy’s cock,” he murmurs, the head of his cock roughly hitting your sweet spot. 

Aemond’s hand covers your mouth once more as you can’t hold back the moan that rolls through you as you orgasm hard on his cock. Aemond keeps thrusting as you come down from your orgasm and you move off his lap. You take his cock in your hand, sinking to your knees on the ground before him, placing him in your mouth. 

It’s dirty and erotic, blowing him in the theater, tasting your juices on his cock as you gag around his length. His hands rest on your head, not pushing but gently guiding you as you bob your head up and down on his length. You hum, the vibrations making Aemond throw his head back against the seat. Pleased with the reaction, you reach to cup his balls in your hand, fondling them gently. 

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses through his teeth before his salty release coats the back of your throat. 

You rise from the floor, plopping back into your seat. You have no idea what’s happened in the movie but you can’t find it in you to care as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Aemond buckles his pants. 

Aemond and you sit in silence for a moment. 

“So,” Aemond says softly, “you have a dad-”

“Don’t say it,” you tell him blushing, “I don’t know where that came from.”

Aemond grins wolfishly. 

“Guess I bring out the worst in you, too,” he says, grabbing your hand, and lacing his fingers through yours. 

“I guess so,” you agree. 

You frown, confused at the direction the movie has taken. Your main character has somehow found herself in a brothel. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Aemond asks, as if reading your mind, “I bet we could grab some ice cream, and maybe watch a different movie in my room?”

“You had me at ice cream,” you tell him.

Aemond grins, standing and leading you out of the theater.

note: how do we feel about Daddy Academic rival Aemond something came over me and I had to LMAO I hope you enjoyed it!!

AET taglist: @ephemeralninon, @aemonds-wifey, @haydee5010, @schniiipsel, @sweetsweetpsyche, @letmeloveyouuuu, @glitterandgoldfinds, @greenowlfactif, @vrtualfairy @fan-goddess @let-love-bleeds-red @praline357, @castellomargot, @f4ll-for-you, @fairysluna, @namelesslosers, @pax-2735, @yentroucnagol, @rwdkarla, @itsabby15, @sweetsweetpsyche,

[dreamingcloudie]

❛❛ When Two Worlds Meet ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ What a fascinating creature... ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x Mermaid!GN!Reader

Genre/Format: Fluff (oneshot)

Warning(s): Use of Dottore's (speculated) real name

wc: ~2.8k

Notes: I'm sorry if this isn't one of the requests 😭 I'm still on writer's block and I wanna write something to give myself some ideas or to warm up. I originally wanted to write reader as female but nah. I want everybody to be able to enjoy, so please tell me if you see any female pronouns!

Anyways, request fics will be coming in slow, I'm sorry :'(

With a curious mind, one would hope to seek more of the world around them. To salvage knowledge for their minds to ease that inquisitive hunger. As both a scholar and a scientist, his thirst for knowing more thrived. If there was an opportunity to learn, he wouldn’t turn it down.

He was now on a ship, sailing from Snezhnaya to Sumeru; he had research to conduct there. It rocked along with the foamy waves as he stood there on the top deck, overlooking the vast ocean before his eyes. It was a sea of turquoise, with sun glitter bouncing off of the water surface. He usually didn’t care for such mundane things, but even he had to admit, it was quite a lovely view.

He took out a watch from his pocket and took a peek at the time.

Still had a few hours left before he’d reach the Sumeru docks…

He groaned a bit before putting his pocket watch away. As much as he enjoyed the view, he wanted to start his project already. Any moment longer and he’d—

“Sir!”

His thoughts were cut off when a Fatui agent ran to him. His face was covered by a mask, so The Doctor wasn’t able to read his facial expression. However, judging by his frantic movements, it seemed to be urgent.

“There’s a—”

Before the agent could finish his sentence, a brief moment of bright light flashed, followed by an ear-piercing rumble in the distance. The Doctor turned his head to where the sound came from and he could see the clouds in the sky were getting darker. He then started to feel multiple droplets landing on him…

A thunderstorm was heading their way.

His gaze went from the sky to the raging sea when he felt a strong wave crash against the ship. As it tilted, he held onto the railings as tight as he could, careful not to slip on the now wet floorboards. Everything was a mess, the screams of the staff on board were lost in the roaring winds as the waves got more intense. It was as if the gods of the sea and sky were doing anything they could to make them sink.

“My lord!” One of the staff yelled.

Before The Doctor could learn of what caused him to yell. He felt a sudden force hit him from behind and a piece of wood pierced into his leg. He gritted his teeth at the sudden sensation and lost his footing, also causing his hands to let go off the railings subconsciously. Before he could make sense of everything, he was wondering why the ship was upside down and he was getting further away from it.

Why was it that everything around him was blue and it felt so cold?

And why… Why did it feel like his lungs were on fire?

He opened his mouth and tried to breathe, but he saw bubbles floating to the top. That was when he realized he was swallowed by the ocean. With his leg injured and his body weak from whatever hit him. He was unable to do anything. He could only watch as his body slowly got further away from the surface above…

Was this how the world was going to mark the end of “Zandik’s Legacy”? Was it a way of punishing him for the unorthodox crimes he had committed? For he, who had to make sacrifices in the name of science, to fulfill that curiosity of his, was looked down upon by the gods who deemed it as “unethical”?

His eyelids had never felt this heavy before. Perhaps… Perhaps he could take a little nap?

Yes… Yes, that sounded nice, he thought. Everything felt so peaceful right now, a little rest wouldn’t hurt…

---

The sound of giggles and water splashing could be heard in the distance. 

You were just enjoying your time swimming around these more foreign parts of the ocean, exploring every nook and cranny that you could get into. Other than to explore, if you were lucky, you’d also find what you considered “treasure” that fell down from the world above. Collecting all these bits and pieces of human items had become a hobby of yours when you first learned of such species.

Their existence was fascinating to you. How could one not live in water? What do they eat? What is this “teapot” that they use? Is it an instrument? You tried blowing into it once but it did not make a sound so… maybe not.

But the most curious of them all, how do their “legs” work? You always shuddered at that, you couldn’t imagine having your fins split in half.

So many questions, and yet, so little answers.

You were swimming out of a cave when you saw something blue glowing on the ocean floor. You got closer and squinted your eyes when you tried to look at what it was. Gasping a little, you realized it was probably another human item, as you have never seen this before. You picked it up and held it in front of your face. It was an odd looking tube with some blue liquid inside of it.

“Woah…”

You were mesmerized by its glow, it was hypnotizing. You inspected it further, the top and bottom of this tube was adored in gold, and there was some kind of hook on it. Smiling in triumph at this new find, you swam ahead to see if you could find some more. As you did so, you noticed a merman slowly falling onto the ocean floor.

You were concerned as he looked like he was unconscious, so you decided to swim near to see if you could help. Once you did, it was then you noticed he wasn’t someone of your kind.

He had… legs.

Was he…

You didn’t know what to do, there was a human. An unconscious human right in front of you. Should you help him? This was the first you’ve ever seen one in person as well, you didn’t know if he’s dangerous or not…

Your dilemma was quickly settled with your morals. You could worry about that later, this human needed help. You held his hand and with all the strength that you could muster, you swam him to the surface. Looking around, you spotted an island he might be able to rest on and you brought him there, laying him on the sand.

You looked at the human before you, he was wearing something funny on his face and, well, he looked funny in general. You touched whatever that was on his face slightly and realized you could move it. You took it off and you were pleasantly surprised. He had a sharp jawline and his lips looked so soft.

You were starting to doubt the rumors you’ve heard about them. How could someone look like this could be so… dangerous? You shook your head and placed whatever that was on his face back on him.

Well then, what to do now?

---

The Doctor groaned slightly as he began to gain his consciousness again, he could feel the senses of his body coming back to him. His nose could pick up on the pungent smell of something fresh and he could hear the sound of ebbing waves. Not long after, he could also feel his hands again. He touched the ground and he could feel a gritty texture, was it sand?

Wait, sand? And he could breathe? 

His brows furrowed in confusion, he could’ve sworn he was in the ocean…

He slowly fluttered his eyes open, adjusting them to the bright light. Once he did, he turned his head left and right, trying to make out where he was. Not too far from where he was laying on, there were a few palm trees around him.

Ah, so it seemed like he was on an island. He assumed that he got washed up. Well, lucky him. It seemed like not even the angry seas and skies could take him down. Of course they couldn’t, he’s the second of the Fatui Harbingers!

He sat up and looked around him. As he did, he noticed a person sitting a few feet away from him, humming to themselves. He could see their upper half clearly and their bottom half was submerged in the water.

Who was that? He thought.

Anyone would think they were just an ordinary person. But he could sense that they were different somehow. Something about them was… alluring.

He continued to observe them, listening to every note they hummed. It felt as if he was in a trance. Their voice was gentle; it could lure him to sleep. He was mesmerized by whoever this was, how could one be so captivating?

His body was still aching but he tried to stand up quietly anyway, only for him to fall back down onto the sand as a sharp sting sent through his leg. His breath hitched he hit the sand. He cursed under his breath, there goes his chance of being stealthy. He made quite a loud noise and there was no way the person didn’t hear him.

And he was correct, the person turned around when he fell. When they did however, he now got a more clearer view of them. Instead of legs, they had… fins?

He stared at them in wonder.

Fins?

Was his eyes seeing things correctly? He knew of this mythical creature. Mermaids, was it? So, were they not a myth, after all? But was it truly scientifically possible for a creature from fairytales to exist?

The more he stared at them, the more questions started to conjure in his mind. He had only just seen them and yet, he wanted to know anything and everything about them, like:

What are they?

What’s their favorite food?

What’s their origin?

It was all so new to him, to have discovered an entirely new species. He sat still when the mermaid crawled closer to him cautiously, getting even closer when they sensed that he wasn’t going to hurt them.

He was just sitting there, intrigued on what they were going to do.

---

The human that you saved a while ago was now awake, and you assumed he was looking at you since he turned his head in your direction. You inched toward him slowly. Once you made sure he wasn’t going to make a move to hurt you. You got closer to him.

You didn’t go on land often, and with your fins it was proven to be a little difficult. But you managed to reach him.

You were now just staring at each other, no words were exchanged between the two of you.

You were wondering if you should say something but was beaten to it by him.

“I have to say, you have quite a soothing voice.” 

Baffled, was what was written on your face. You expected him to speak. But not to make a comment about your voice.

You could feel your face heat up. You turned your head away and cleared your throat before facing him again.

“I’m glad you’re awake now, I saw you were unconscious so I brought you here.”

Ah, so he wasn’t washed up. It was you that saved him.

“My, thank you for saving me. What can I do to return the favor?”

You looked at him with wonder glinting in your eyes.

“You can answer my questions. You’re a human, aren’t you? You have, uh, legs?”

He chuckled a bit before answering.

“Indeed, I do have legs and I am a human, but I’m more curious about you, my dear.”

You tilted your head at him, gesturing to him to continue.

“And you, are a mermaid, correct?”

You nodded.

“So, what do you know about us humans?”

“I heard you guys were dangerous, and supposedly, have a scary appearance. But you’re not scary…”

Not scary? Oh you naive little thing… if only you knew. He thought to himself as a little smirk grew on his face. What an interesting creature you were. He wouldn’t tell you what he had done or was capable of, oh no. That would scare you away and he was just starting to get into you.

“Is that so?”

You smiled and let out a noise of “mhm”.

You then looked at his attire again, pointing at the funny thing he was wearing.

“What’s that?”

He followed where you had your eyes on, and they landed on one of his gloved hands.

“Oh, this?” He lifted his hand up.

“It’s called a “glove”, we usually wear these to provide warmth or to protect ourselves,” he explained. He held his hand out to let you get a good look at it. Judging by the questions you had for him so far, he assumed you barely knew a thing about human society. You were naive, and he was quite amused by your curiosity.

You took his hand and held it gently, examining its design and tracing a finger to feel its texture. Unbeknownst to you, your tender touch had sent a tingle down his spine. Even through his glove, he could feel just how soft your skin was.

He was caught off guard when you pulled on his glove slightly.

“...It’s alright. You may take it off if you’d like.”

You then took his glove off and you were surprised at what you saw.

He wasn’t sure how you’d react, but judging by your expression, he could only assume you either found it interesting or disgusting. His hand was covered in many scars that he got from battles and experiments. Although he had a big ego, he silently hoped that you weren’t disgusted at it.

You looked down at your own hand before looking back at his, and placed your palm against it. As you did so, your eyes widened once more. And he was also equally as surprised as you were now. He did not expect you’d… touch his hand like that.

“Our hands… they’re not so different…” You looked at your connected palms in awe. Your hands were almost exactly the same, albeit his was bigger than yours.

“Indeed.” Was the only word he could muster out. He now found himself staring at your face, darting his eyes from one detail to another. 

Your eyes… Your adorable little ears… The scales on both sides of your cheeks…

Truly, a sight to behold. So enticing, so vibrant, so perfect.

What was it that you were doing to him? He had only just met you. So why was his heart racing? Did you put a spell on him?

His thoughts were cut off when your hands left his. He was a little saddened at the loss of your warmth, but he didn’t say anything about it. You then handed his glove back to him. He took it and put it back on, muttering a “thank you”.

It was then he realized he saw a familiar accessory of his laying beside you.

“Ah, I see you’ve found my earring.”

You picked up the glowing blue tube you found earlier and showed it to him.

“You mean this? I found it when I was exploring the ocean floor. I thought it looked pretty so I took it.”

It was subtle, but he could see you were disappointed when you knew you’d have to return it.

“You could keep it if you’d like, I have more.”

What?

His mouth and mind acted on their own before he could even think. This was ridiculous. He was convinced that you put a spell on him now, what else could explain his impulsive action? But not a spell he objected to… Quite a nice one, actually. 

Your eyes lit up, “Really?”

He nodded.

You were about to say something else when you saw a few more humans running up behind this man. 

You gasped at their sudden appearance and without saying a word more, you retreated back into the water and swam away.

He was startled at your sudden departure and yelled. 

“Wait!”

But you were already gone…

“My lord! We’ve found you!”

He turned around and a few of his underlings ran up to him.

“Are you alright, my lord? Our greatest apologies. It shouldn’t have taken us this long to find you!”

The Doctor tried to stand up again, being careful with his injured leg, he looked down at it and it was being wrapped neatly with a leaf. It must’ve been your doing when he was unconscious.

“I’m fine… Let’s just go.”

They nodded and led him back to the ship that was anchored not far from here. Before he left, however, he looked back at the ocean that you fled to in a hurry, and his hand that he could still feel a lingering warmth from you.

He didn’t even know of your name, but he knew he wanted to see you once more…

No, he needed to see you.

“Until we meet again, my dear.”

[gentlebilady]

Some more of Casual

*

“Hey, Princess, what’s got your panties in a knot?” Billy was leaning back against the inside of Steve’s front door, watching as the Princess himself buzzed around the place, rooting around in the couch, trying to peer behind and between he washer and dryer, disappearing into his bathroom and bedroom for the third time since he let Billy in approximately five minutes ago. 

He heard Steve snort from the bedroom, his voice calling out.

“Funny you should say that. I can’t find, like, any underwear. All I’ve got is the old stuff and the uncomfortable stuff. I just bought a new pack and-,” his voice trailed off as he continued his search. He reappeared a few minutes later.

“I found a few pairs in the dryer but-.”

“Man, why are you talking to me about this?” Billy cut in, playing with an unlit cigarette. Steve sighed.

“Sorry. I know, we’re supposed to go out, we can go. I just got caught up.” Steve grabbed his wallet and keys off the counter in the kitchen and walked up to Billy - who stayed leaning against the door. Steve waited. Billy tucked the cigarette behind his ear.

Steve waited some more.

“We going?”

Billy grinned slyly, reaching a hand out to Steve, caught the waist of his jeans in his fingers, pulling Steve close. Steve’s breath escaped him and he didn’t catch it again, caught in the sparkling blue of Billy’s eyes and the plush pinkness of his lips. Steve’s eyes closed of their own volition as Billy’s lips touched his; his entire being was focused on the swelling tide where their mouths met, lips and tongues easing back and forth. 

Billy’s hands had grasped and gripped their way to the small of Steve’s back, almost too tight, holding on like a sailor in a storm, before they slipped down the back of Steve’s jeans and palmed his ass. Steve bit Billy’s lip before ripping his head away to gasp in air. Billy’s grin was brilliant.

“Maybe I’ll take these, too,” he rumbled. Steve stared.

“Huh? Take what?”

“These.” Billy snapped the waist of the briefs Steve was wearing.

Steve frowned, then his face cleared.

“You’ve been stealing my fucking underwear?!” Steve was laughing, his face bright, eyes glittering.

“No!” Billy’s voice was strident, but a smile played at his mouth. “That’s not what I’m doing, man. I just-,” his voice trailed off.

“Can’t even think of a good excuse, huh?” Steve grabbed the cigarette from behind Billy’s ear and popped it in his mouth. “No worries, ba- Billy. I can probably swing getting some more.” 

Billy huffed. “Probably. Yeah, I’m sure you can, Princess.” 

Steve giggled some more, absolutely tickled by the idea that Billy was keeping mementos. 

“How many pairs of my panties do you have, Hargrove?”

“More than three, less than ten.”

Steve whistled, and tried to do some math in his head. Over the last month he’d been over at  Billy’s apartment at least twice a week. Yeah, those numbers made sense. Billy had a soft smile on his face and it made Steve brave.

“What do you think about going out with Robin and Vickie? They wanna do dinner-and-a-movie, I’m thinking pizza. And since your dad’s out of town, I thought-.”

Billy pushed away from the door and passed Steve, deeper into the apartment, but Steve saw the smile drop.

“Let’s just order delivery and watch a tape. You’ve got Lost Boys, right?”

Steve persisted, following Billy’s path to the living room. “I could invite them over here. They’re a lot of fun, really.”

Billy’s shoulders were tight as he turned around, keys in hand.

“I just remembered, I promised Susan I would fix something at the house while Neil’s gone.” He walked back toward the front door, already reaching out a hand for the knob.

“What? But, he’s gone for, like, a week! It’s Friday night. Billy, come on, I won’t invite them. It’ll just be us.” Steve felt like he was on a rollercoaster, tipped upside down and thrown backwards by the change in Billy’s attitude. 

Billy stopped and turned back to Steve. His face was open and full of longing, but Steve also saw fear there. There was a long, heavy moment between them.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Billy said, with none of his usual sarcasm, then slipped out the door.

~

This is a snippet I JUST wrote. @irishbeings @darleenjade Here you go! This comes after that first part I posted, but there will likely be some scenes in between the two. I just really liked this.

P.S. I'm also pretty doped up on cold medicine, if that helps explain any major typos and discrepancies.