#*dies of 3k words*

[conkers-thecosy]

The thing is, I'm very lucky that I always get such lovely comments on my fics, but the last 48 hours? I could cry, honestly. I'm so lucky that anyone reads my nonsense, let alone enjoys it so much. I want to curl up into a little ball of happiness and squeal!

[stxend]

if i have to have one more of those posts with hundreds of fake notes hating karen page + citing that liking her character is like. Morally wrong. I will kill someone. why is that on my feed get it Off

[renaiswriting]

Baci di Luna part 4 has already +1.3k words, yeyyyy

[yuujispinkhair]

Alpha!Yuuji headcanons

A sweet anon sent me an ask wanting to know my thoughts about Alpha!Yuuji and my brain went grrr. Thank you!! I finally had an excuse to write about this strong and sexy Alpha with the sunshine smile and the knot so thick that it makes us sob ;) As you can see, I wrote this very shamelessly with my omega pussy lol but I hope my fellow Yuuji lovers can enjoy this self-indulgent piece too ;)

Pairing: Alpha!Yuuji x Omega!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, Omegaverse AU Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, omegaverse, smut, breeding, knotting, creampie, pregnancy, biting, a bit of rough sex when Yuuji is in a rut, slight lactation kink, praise, mentions of blood and scars. Yuuji has to kill to protect his pack. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. Thank you for the star divider @/benkeibear. There is now fanart for this AU!! Thank you so much to @sandiaarts !!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is the strongest Alpha in the city but never planned to become a leader. Until the former boss-Alpha dies and is succeeded by his cruel son, who puts the whole city under his reign of terror. That's when Yuuji's heroic instincts are triggered, and he decides to step up and claim the position as the ruling Alpha.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who you see for the first time during his fight for dominance in a back alley behind a nightclub where the packs are gathered to watch the fight that will decide who becomes their new leader. You get one look at this gorgeous pink-haired Alpha and already know he will win. Tall and buff, with firm muscles and a feral conviction in his golden eyes. A true Alpha!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who wins the fight after just a few minutes. He lifts his face while pinning his opponent down, one hand on the man's head and one foot on his back. His golden eyes find you in the crowd, and you feel a shudder run through you, your Omega cunt slicking up just at the sight of this strong and brave Alpha. Your new leader, who you will submit to all too happily.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is so attractive with his boyish good looks and that muscular, powerful build. He has such a pretty sunshine smile but also such a broad, tall body packed with buff muscles. His skin is littered with scars that show the feral fighter he is, making him look so sexy and strong that it causes the most primal needs to awaken in you. You want to offer yourself to him, offer your slicked-up Omega cunt to him so he can breed you full of his strong pups.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who finds you later on in the nightclub, where you celebrate his victory. Who smiles sweetly when you congratulate him on his win. Who is so kind and easy to get along with despite how powerful he is. Who tells you he hates fighting, but since he is unfortunately very good at it, he thinks it's his duty to use his fists to protect the ones who are weaker than him.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes your Omega cunt throb with his words. All your primal instincts scream that you need this big, strong Alpha who is so brave and kind. You feel dizzy when you smell his enticing scent, filling your nostrils with its sexy, musky smell of wood and sunlight and the deep, rich aroma of ripe cherries. You gulp nervously as you tilt your head to look up at Yuuji's gorgeous face and see the same craving you feel mirrored in his golden eyes.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you only a few minutes later. Bending you over a table in the backroom of the nightclub, his pants and boxer briefs hastily pushed down while he ruts feverishly into you from behind. Riled up from the fight and exhilarated from the victory, needing to sink his Alpha cock into a willing slicked-up Omega cunt to come down again.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who fucks you like the leader that he is now. Who leans down to cage you between his big buff body and the table, interlacing his large fingers with your smaller ones while he fucks into you, making you cream again and again on his fat Alpha cock. His canines graze your skin as if he can hardly restrain himself from marking you as his mate right then and there.

+ Alpha Yuuji, who presses his nose against your neck and sniffs you, inhaling your scent hungrily and moaning against your neck, "Fuck. Fuck. You smell so good, baby." His big, heavy body shudders behind you while you feel him pulse his hot seed into you. And you know at that moment that you want to be his. That you want him to be your Alpha and your mate. You hope he will claim you one day!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who doesn't pull out and leave after your needy fuck, like most new pack leaders would. Many of them would go from unmated Omega to unmated Omega to show them that the new Alpha has a right to take them now. But Yuuji stays with you. His big, broad body slumps against you, his muscular arms wrap around you, hugging you while he kisses your neck, sweet and caring. His seed and your slick run down your thighs in hot sticky rivulets, and your pussy twitches around his gorgeous thick cock, instinctively asking him for more, as if your Omega cunt is begging her Alpha to mate her and claim her for life.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who tells you that he needs to see you again when he finally pulls out of you. He turns you around, a large calloused hand cupping your chin tenderly, and he captures your lips in a sweet kiss before he lifts you up and places you on the table so he can clean your pussy with his loving mouth, taking proper care of you, moaning against your wet cunt how sweet of an Omega you are.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who keeps you close after that first night and makes an effort to get to know you. He buys you flowers and chocolates and asks you on dates, making sure to appreciate you and not just see you as a willing and breedable Omega but as a woman he cherishes and adores.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is such a good pack leader, kind and protective. He is so sweet to the little ones, playing with them and teaching them how to box so they can learn how to protect themselves. He also cares about the older members of the pack, telling them he looked after his sick grandpa for many years and, therefore, understands the struggles of the elderly and that they can always come to him and ask for help. He is a natural leader. A real Alpha. It makes him even more attractive in your eyes, and you catch yourself getting nice and slick for him anytime he is in the same room.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes your scent glands throb hotly anytime he fucks you, your body trying to lure him in, wordlessly signaling to him how bad you want to be his. How bad you want him to mate you. He growls brokenly anytime it happens and licks hungrily over your scent glands, making you cum instantly around his powerful Alpha cock.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is so sweet and caring that he tries to hold back as long as possible before he claims you. Who fucks his balls empty into your sweet Omega cunt and grunts and growls as he tries his best to stop himself from forcefully claiming you as his mate.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses you in front of the nightclub that belongs to him now, smiling against your lips while his strong arms hold you so tightly, pulling you against his tall, buff body, offering you a feeling of safety you have never known before. He tells you he loves you while he holds you in his strong arms, and you almost cry from the happiness you feel.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who reaches his breaking point that night after you both confessed your love to each other and pushes his cock extra deep into you, letting you get a little taste of his knot, making you sob in need while he groans in your ear: "I want to mate you so bad, cutie. Want to make you my Omega. I can't hold back much longer, sweetie. Want to mate you and breed you and cherish you and give you my pups. Fuck... please let me mate you! Please be my Omega and my mate!"

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who waits for your consent even while his muscular body is shaking from the effort it takes to hold back before he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites you with a mating bite that hurts and arouses you at the same time.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you again to seal your bond with another load of his Alpha seed. He fucks you deep and feral, claiming his mate thoroughly, making sure you know how much he loves you and that he is yours now and you are his. He moans and growls and tells you he will give you his knot, will give you his everything for the rest of his life, while mounting you so hard and good that you see stars.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose knot is so big that you are worried you won't be able to take him when you feel the first swelling at his thick base. But Yuuji is such a caring Alpha and such a sweet mate. He soothes you with his low, sexy voice, whispering the sweetest praise to you while he prepares you thoroughly for his knot. He will give you his all, even if it takes hours to prepare you for his knot. He kisses you and rubs slow, tender circles around your swollen clit, loosening your cunt with several orgasms on his cock before he allows his knot to grow and plug you up.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes you mewl and orgasm instantly when you finally feel his fat knot plugging you up, claiming you as his alone while he moans I love you's in your ear. His calloused fingers rub your puffy clit, making you squirt over and over again on his fat knot while he pulses his hot seed into you, sealing your mating ritual with both of your cum.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses you deeply and tells you how sweet and beautiful you are while he slowly slips out of you after a night spent mating you. You sigh happily, so content and happy that you found such a strong Alpha and such a caring mate. Yuuji stays with you for hours afterward, refusing to leave your side after such an intimate experience. He holds you tightly, lets you rest and sleep in his strong arms, safe and warm in your mate's embrace, knowing he will take care of you for the rest of his life.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is loved by his whole pack for his kindness and strength. A caring and protective Alpha. His large, calloused hands touch you with so much love and tenderness, but they can also deal the hardest punches against the ones who dare attack his pack. And if anyone tries to hurt his mate, Yuuji will see red and become a feral predator so powerful that his enemies will grovel before him and beg for mercy.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who won't start a fight without a reason. But he hunts down the ones who break the rules of peace and are cruel and dangerous to others. He kills if he has to, but it bothers him greatly to take a life, and he always seeks comfort and reassurance in your arms after every kill.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who comes back home to you after a deadly fight with bloody scratches all over his body, which will heal into a few more sexy scars that show his dominance and strength. There's a feral glint in his golden eyes, making them glow like two full moons, angry and unrelenting. The eyes of a powerful predator who was forced to unleash his fury against his enemies. A gaze that makes you moan and grab the bed sheets tightly, your legs instinctively falling open to present your panty-clad slick cunt to this strong Alpha in front of you.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who craves you badly after every kill. Who rips off his shirt and lets it fall to the ground, looking at you with that feral, primal need in his eyes while he opens his belt with one large hand, so riled up from the fight and ready to fuck his anger into the comforting wet heat of your sweet Omega cunt.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose buff body is bloody and sweaty from the fight. Veins standing out on his taut, flexed muscles. His fight triggered a rut, making his thick fat Alpha cock slap heavily against his firm abs when he frees himself from his trousers. The irresistible primal scent of his pheromones fills the whole room, making the slick run down your thighs even before Yuuji has laid a single finger on you.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who tears your soaked panties down, presses his face against your slick cunt, and growls wildly when he inhales your scent and licks up your sweet slick. He needs to fuck all his worries and anger into you. Needs you so bad to make things ok again. He growls a thank you after you tell him to let it all out on you, to fuck you as hard as he needs. "Don't hold back, Yuuji. I can take it. Fuck me as hard as you need, Alpha."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who always fucks you harder after a kill. Using his strength on you and manhandling you with rough, calloused hands. He growls when he has you on all fours for him, with your cute ass in the air and legs spread, presenting him your pretty Omega cunt to claim and fuck. He groans behind you, low and feral, in full Alpha mode, giving your ass a hard slap as he splits you open around his fat cockhead.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you wild and hard, slapping your ass and fucking you with rough hard thrusts that go so deep that you howl with the most primal need and lust every time he ruts into you. He takes you in such a primal way, like an animal, hard and deep, while biting your neck and drooling all over your skin. He is so loud and feral, not holding back at all, fucking you unrelentingly from one orgasm to the next.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who only pulls out after he has exhausted himself completely, taking all his anger and pain out on your sweet, willing Omega cunt. You know that on those kinds of nights, he needs you to give him comfort, and so you pull him in your arms, hug him and cuddle him, and stroke his pretty pink hair, telling him he did the right thing and that you are so proud of him for protecting his pack. "You are such a good Alpha. And such a good man."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who not only wants you as his mate, but also as his wife, giving you a double promise of always protecting and loving you. Now you wear his teeth imprint on your neck and a beautiful golden wedding band on your ring finger.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose need to breed is so strong that he practically begs you to please let him fuck his pups into you anytime he smells your heat approaching. Your fertile pussy always drives him insane, making him lick up your slick needily while shooting his first load all over the bedsheets and himself, unable to hold back with your sweet taste filling his mouth and nose.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is the happiest man ever, when you tell him you stopped taking your birth control. "I want your babies, Yuuji. Want to give you so many cute and strong pups, just like their daddy." And your man instantly has you under him, pinning you to the bed with his heavy, muscular body, snapping his hips furiously, shooting load after load into you while thanking you. "Thank you, baby, oh fuck, thank you so much! I will give you so many cute pups, my angel! Will fuck so many into you!"

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who always breeds you anytime he claims you, now that he knows you want his pups. He fucks to breed. He wants a whole litter of cute little pups with you. He moans and growls ferally into your ear while he mounts you from behind and fucks you with such savage, needy, and deep thrusts that he almost breaks the bed.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who loves to put you in a mating press with you all needy under his heavy buff body, your knees pressed to your tits while he bucks his hips ferally against you, going wild at the thought of his fat cock so deep in you.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who wants to knock you up so bad that he is in a permanent rut now, triggering your heat over and over again, making you so wet and horny for him that you can barely walk anymore.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who has so much stamina that when he knots you, his knot stays inside you all night. Slow rolls of his hips while he is in you balls-deep, shooting thick load after load of his hot fertile seed into you, his balls so big and heavy that they slap loudly against your slicked-up swollen clit, making you cum over and over again until you are delirious from it, babbling how much you need him, "Please, Yuu, please make me a mommy. Please gimme your pups, baby."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who hugs you in his strong, buff arms and kisses your neck and lips lovingly while his knot is throbbing in you and plugging you up to keep his hot, fertile seed deep in you, breeding his sweet wife so thoroughly while praising you the whole time. "Look at you taking my knot so well. Fuck, I love you so much, cutie. I can't wait to see your belly so big and swollen with our pups. You'll be such a beautiful mommy."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose seed is strong and fertile and takes immediately. He smiles brightly at you and hugs you tightly when you tell him you are pregnant. He goes out to buy materials to build a cradle immediately, so eager and excited to start his family with you. And then repeats the same thing a few weeks later when you find out he fucked twins into you on the first try.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is always very protective but gets even worse when you carry his pups in you. Who growls at everyone who comes too close to you, always ensuring his mate and pups are safe. Who leaves his scent all over you to keep potential threats away.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who goes feral when your belly grows. He loves you so much, and it drives him crazy with lust and love to see that he successfully bred you, making you round and big with his pups, with his strong and chubby babies. It makes Yuuji so hard to see you like that. He has to take you every night while he caresses your belly and kneads your swollen tits, already milking a bit of milk out of them that he hungrily licks up.

+ Alpha! Yuuji, who pulls out of your cunt and cums all over your swollen belly because the sight turns him on so much.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses and licks you clean afterward before he rests his head on your belly and talks to his little ones, telling them how much their mommy and daddy love them. And he looks up at you with those gleaming golden eyes full of love and tells you, "And I also love you so much, baby. Thank you for being my mate and my wife. I am so lucky!"

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose genes are very dominant, so all your pups will have his pink hair. But you definitely don't mind because it looks so cute when your twins are born with a soft tuft of pink hair on their little heads! Your pups are two big, strong boys with chubby thighs and cheeks and loud voices. Strong, just like their daddy.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is such a proud mate and daddy. He never gets tired of spending time with his wife and his little ones. He gets up in the middle of the night to feed and cuddle his little boys so his sweet wife can rest. He carries the twins around in his strong arms, showing them off all proudly with a big happy smile on his face, cooing at them, playing with them, and petting their pink hair. And you watch him with happy tears in your eyes, so happy that you found such a good Alpha and loving husband!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who beams at you and pulls you against his buff, tall body to kiss you thoroughly. Who doesn't let you go again because his heart feels so full and his cock is already swelling again, knowing that you are such a good mommy and such a sweet mate. He needs to bend you over the nearest surface and mount you again until your cute Omega cunt is stuffed with his fertile seed again, making more cute little pink-haired pups with the love of his life.

FUCKKKKK HE MAKES ME FERAL!! I don't know why, but there is something about Yuuji that fits Omegaverse so well, in my opinion. My head is spinning!!! Thank you so much, dear anon, for sending me this ask! When I wrote my Sukuna Omegaverse story, I already low-key wanted to write for Yuuji (and Megumi) too, and you motivated me to do so!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked Alpha!Yuuji and enjoyed this sexy little story!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

[stormhearty]

Pushed to the Edge

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Trigger: angst, cheating, suicide, death

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You were the official seer of Night Court for nearly 500 years. the Inner Circle had always listened to you and your visions; however, when the Archeron sisters came and Elain started to show her powers, your family started to shift their attention to her visions. When you try to voice your warnings about the death-lord’s resurrection, everyone gave you the cold shoulder, ignoring your prophesies — this included your mate.

Note: no hate to Azriel or Elain, it just helped with the plot. and Also, I know it's completely unreasonable for Azriel to not have the Truth-Teller be with him at all times, just go with it for now. And I am working on “Reach Your Voice” Series, I’m still trying to figure out how to make sure each of our boys spends quality time with the reader.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“That sounds absolutely absurd… How many times will you try to warn about something that will never happen?”

Your voiced died in your throat as you watched Rhysand look at you with apprehension before focusing on the paperwork in front of him.

You had ran into his office, waking up in cold sweat after another vision of another Death God crawling it’s way back into Prythian. You had tried to forewarn your High Lord for weeks on end ever since you first saw that vision. However, your warnings had been ignored by Rhysand. You knew that it sounded impossible, you knew that, Prythian had just finished a war — one that almost destroyed the world.

After the war with the King of Hybern, Prythian was slowly returning to its normal … well, attempting to fix what was broken by the King. The Night Court was healing, trying to rebuild itself again to its glory, helping other Courts to fix the damages that the war caused. Rhysand had been through an ordeal, losing his life to save Prythian and you knew that your High Lord was still recuperating from that tragedy. You knew that your High Lady was as well, almost losing her mate.

They didn’t need another war to happen when peace had barely returned.

But you also knew there was another reason your High Lord had been ignoring your for forewarning. You looked to the side, one where the rest of the Inner Circle was watching the confrontation. Cassian and Nesta, sitting close to each other, a glass of wine in their hands, whispering to each other, mostly likely about you and your vision. You could barely pick up with your keen Fae hearing on what they were saying.

“Do you think what she’s saying is real? That Koschei is trying to come back?”

“Elain hasn’t seen it though…”

The whisper of the middle Archeron child echoed in your ears as you looked at the Made Fae. She sat next to the window, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle like the sun rested on you before turning over to the male that she was sitting with. Your gaze followed hers to Azriel — your mate— but you can see that he didn’t bother to glance in your direction, only to focus on the delicate female next to him.

It hurt. You watched as the two of them conversed, glancing back in your direction before focusing on each other.

It was no secret, not for you, on Elain’s growing infatuation for the Shadowsinger, and in turn his own growing affections for the middle Archeron child — and in turn, losing his love for you.

You woke up in an empty bed, your mate missing from his side. You tried to talk to Cassian about how his day went, on if he would still train you with the Valkyries if he had time. You tried to converse with Rhysand and Feyre, seeing if they were healing properly after the war, wanting to make sure your High Lord and Lady were safe. You sought after you mate, wanting to spend even a second with him.

But they disregarded you so easily. Especially after they had found out that Elain had similar powers to you, one that was gifted to her by the Cauldron — one that was deemed more powerful than your own.

Your role as the Official Seer of Night Court was granted to you after Helion had sent you as an emissary for Day Court. Helion had found you wandering around Day Court lands. You had been a wandering child, with no real attachment to any Court, abandoned in the streets by your family at the age of five when your seer powers started to come into light. Helion had taken you in when you were ten, helped you hone your powers. Being a seer had been a mystery, no one in your heritage (that you were aware of) was a seer. And it baffled Helion on why such a remarkable gift had been casted aside.

You had stayed with the Night Court, gaining their trust and friendship for five centuries, gaining your own little foothold in their family. You had been a pillar when Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain for nearly fifty years. You helped Mor and Armen with the official Night Court Duties, trained with Cassian to ensure you were strong enough to fight when neither he nor Azriel was there.

During your time protecting Valeris from the eyes of Amarantha, your mating bond with the Shadowsinger snapped. It had been difficult at the start, both of you were still struggling with the disappearance of your High Lord, along with the weight of protecting the very city he hidden from view. But during that time, you became each other’s pillar, each other’s comfort in such a dark time. Falling in love with Azriel wasn’t difficult.

But keeping his love, apparently, was the most difficult.

When the Archeron sister’s came into everyone’s lives, it caused a tip in the scales. You loved Feyre, you loved your High Lady. You would do anything in your power to ensure she was safe and well cared for. But for the Cauldron-Made sisters, it was difficult for you to accept them.

They were different. You couldn’t see anything about them, as if the Cauldron had masked them from you powers. It made you terrified of them. Feyre and Rhysand had tried to assure you that the Archeron sisters deemed no threat to the Night Court. And you trusted them — trusted your High Lord and Lady without a blink of an eye. And yes, while their words deemed true, you did not realize that they were a different type of threat. One that would eventually lose your foothold in the Night Court.

You swallowed, your throat parched as you glanced from the sight of your mate and Elain speaking to one another to Rhysand and then to Feyre who had stood next to him. She gave you a worried look, wondering what you were wanting to tell them.

The air was tense, the declaration from your High Lord seeming to echo in your surroundings — he had deemed your vision to be false. And he had never done that before.

“… But…” you whispered, your voice nothing but wind in such a large room, “… I’ve seen it so many times, Rhys. Someone is trying to resurrect him. That they need a piece of something from the Cauldron — -”

“The Cauldron is with Miryam and Drakon… in Creta. There is no way that anyone would be able to use that power again,” Rhysand’s tone was taut, as if trying to drawn a line between the truth and your vision, “Your vision must be wrong, (Y/N). There is no way that Koschei can be resurrected from that lake.”

Another swallow, “But what if it doesn’t have to be the Cauldron itself. It could be something that was Made from the Cauldron.”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped up from his desk, up to you, eyes darkening at the words you were insinuating, “—- What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes shifting down to your hands, fiddling with your fingernails — a habit that you’ve had ever since you were a child — one that would leave your hands raw from removing skin, ‘… Nesta and Elain were Made from the Cauldron. If it were to get word to the followers of Koschei, they… they could be in danger. The power that resides in them is the Cauldron… Nesta took something from the Cauldron and did not return it… They could be looking for that.”

It was already bad that you were trying to suggest a return of a Death God, months after a war with Hybern, but it was worse that you were even implying that the sisters were the center of being in danger again.

A dark shadow stood in front of you and you looked up to see Azriel. The golden string that connected the two of you sung, it had been weeks since Azriel went near you, but you knew that his side of the bond was shut, enshroud by shadows, completely shutting you out.

“Az—-” you said his name, as if it was a prayer, hoping he’d be the voice of reason. That he would back up you and your visions. As he always had in the past.

“How can we know that your visions are truth, (Y/N)? There are two Seers in the Night Court now, and yet you are the only one who sees this.”

Your ears rang, a high pitch noise echoing through them as disbelief shook your body. Azriel never distrusted you, never doubted your visions and your forewarnings.

The bond in you ached, as if it was burning you on the inside. Tears lined your eyes as you looked up at your mate, brows furrowing, “…How could you, Azriel?” you muttered, the pain lining your tone, “How can you not trust me?” your voice small.

“Because Elain hasn’t seen it,” was all he had to say.

Hot tears ran your cheeks, as you shakily stepped back from the male that had towered you. You glanced at Cassian and Nesta who looked at you, their eyes inattentive to the pain that you were feeling. You glanced at your High Lord, who looked at you with disinterest. You looked at your High Lady, the only person in the room that seemed to have noticed your pain and anguish, as she took a step towards you way, only to be stopped by Rhysand, his hand around her wrist.

“… So, just because the Cauldron-Made Seer hasn’t seen it, doesn’t mean that it is going to happen?” you asked, your question in the air for everyone to think, “… Just because I wasn’t a Seer Made by the Cauldron, that my visions and my words are not real? That I am a lesser of a Seer than her?”

“(Y/N)—-” Feyre, the voice of reason, called our your name.

You took a step back again, head shaking at them, “I’ve worked my life off for the Night Court. Ensuring that your city is safe, making sure that any danger would never step past the wards that you have put up. I have never hidden anything from any of you. I used my visions and my powers for all of you. And yet…” your voice shook at the end, not believing anything that was happening in front of you, “You disregard me… the moment a better Seer shows up. One that is Cauldron-Made… one that you…” eyes shifting to Azriel, “Deems more suitable for you.

“I’ve seen it. Not only in my visions but here with you all. You have decided to all turn a blind eye to it, decided not to tell me about it. Three sisters for three brothers, isn’t it, Azriel?”

Azriel’s form stiffed in front of you — he did not think that you would have heard that.

You were done, you were tired. You were tired of the lies and the deceit from whom you thought were family.

Feyre’s brows furrowed as she looked at you and then her elder sisters before the back of Azriel. Rhysand stood up as well, standing next to his High Lady at your declaration.

“… What are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Feyre asked, watching your form shake.

“Don’t you lie to me…” you muttered, glaring at your High Lady, “Don’t you dare lie that you have not seen it. Don’t you dare tell me that you have not noticed that Azriel and Elain have been together all this time. That you have turned a blind eye that a mated male would be infatuated, would fall in love with someone else that was not his Cauldron-bound mate. Don’t you dare lie to me you have not all seen it, and have ignored it and not tell me about it.

“You also have all disregarded me and my visions, ever since Elain started to show her own powers. You have all deemed, even without you telling me, that my powers are not worthy enough. That you all would listen to her cryptic visions rather than my own.”

Your words were rushed, you were hyperventilating to the point that your visions swam, but you shook your head, focusing on the scene unfolding — Feyre’s surprised look, Nesta and Cassian staring wide-eye at Elain before glancing at the Shadowsinger in front of you and your High Lord gripping the edge of the table, his violet eyes clearing as if he was in a trance, as if his mind has been cleared and he realized what he has done and what was unfolding with his family.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what we meant…” he tried to reason, try to gain back your trust in the found family you had with them.

You scrunched your face, shaking your head as you looked at your High Lord before back at your mate, “…That’s what you have meant for the months you have been ignoring my forewarnings. Been ignoring me. Because Elain’s powers are better than mine, you have casted me aside…” Another step back, glancing at the grand door behind you before you glanced back at the family who had lost you, to the mate that had broken your entire being, “You had decided, to your own conscious, to fall in love with someone else, who is bound to someone else, just because you deemed that the Cauldron was wrong. I don’t understand what I have done to you, Azriel… when I have spent nearly five-hundred years with you, fifty years with you as your mate. And you, knowing Elain for a mere five minutes, throwing all that away…”

Azriel looked at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring you down. He watched as tears continued to flood down your cheeks, your form shaking even further. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t just stand here and be the object that they throw away.

So, you ran, ran out of that room, your name echoing behind you as your dress swirled behind you. You climbed up the spiraling stairs to your shared room with Azriel, throwing up the strongest ward you can muster behind you and around you. You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the echo of the bond in your chest, you couldn’t handle the empty stare of your mated looking at you. You couldn’t handle the thought that you were so easily replaceable. A sob escaped your lips as you rummaged through Azriel’s drawer of weapons, pulling out the one weapon that he never is without — Truth-Teller. Dark tendrils of shadow gripped your wrist as you looked around you, Azriel’s shadows surrounding you.

That was where his shadows went — they had always disappeared when he was around Elain, yet they were here with you.

Frantic knocks startled you as you grasped the weapon close to your chest, your head whipping around towards the door. You heard them — Feyre’s panicked voice, Rhysand’s apologizes, Cassian yelling your name. But you didn’t hear that one voice that you had loved — you knew Azriel wasn’t there.

That had pushed you. Gripping the weapon, you moved to the bathroom, the shadows following your every movement. As you kneeled down on the marble floor, you felt the tug of the shadows against your hand, trying to will the weapon out of your grip — attempting you to stop at a take of your life.

You had always loved the shadows that surrounded Azriel, both physically and metaphorically speaking. They had always comforted you, protected you, always had been there for both of you when times were tough. But this was one of the times that you didn’t want them protecting you, comforting you.

“Please..” you begged at them. Whether or not they would listen or sprint off to their master, they backed off, though a few tendrils stayed behind, slithering around your wrist, holding Truth-Teller, as if a reminder not to do it. But you had made your mind — you couldn’t stay and be pushed to the side. Not anymore.

And with a last breath impaled yourself with your mate’s beloved knife, the very knife he had handed Elain during the war, was the last thing you remembered. As your body fell against the marbled floor, your soul leaving your body, you felt the tendrils of shadow frantically skim over your body, as if to try to find a piece of life still clinging onto you. Eyes looked and watched as the ward was broken and your High Lord and Lady skidding towards your body as your soul left for the skies above, the cool feeling of shadow never leaving your body.

A gasp escaped your lips, the dull ache on your chest making you rub at it.

“— - What…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as if not used for a century.

“That Shadowsinger did not know what he had decided to let go, huh…” A voice, one so dark and so familiar echoing.

You knew that voice, that voice that haunted you in your visions for weeks — the same voice that you tried to warn your family about. Eyes opening, you were surrounded by the dark, the voice of the Death-God echoing around you.

“I should have died…” you voiced to no-one.

A laugh echoed around you, “You did, (Y/N), but you forget that I am a Death-God… And I can resurrect anyone I wish. Now, that your family has abandoned you, why don’t you join me. Show them what happens when a Seer of your capacity has been cast aside. I should have had you when that original family of yours stranded you, but that damn High Lord of Day found you first. Anyway… come child…”

You laid there, in the darkness, before you shakily reach out a hand, before spiny fingers grasped onto yours and pulled you out of that darkness.

[taegimood]

— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

[stylesispunk]

"You're always on my mind"

Joel Miller x f!reader.

summary: You are Joel's reason to live and he is yours.

word count: 3k

warnings: some fluff and heavy angst.

a/n: I'm still on my writing break, but I couldn't take this one out of my head, so you have it here. I don't want to go into details because it would spoil the whole fic, but this is pretty much based on a movie, and by the name and the song, you may get the idea which one is it. Reblogs and comments are appreciated, so please come here and tell me your thoughts. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Finding such beautiful things in a world like this was not an easy thing to do. In a world like this, there was no spare room for distractions but survival.

In a tarnished world, you were a rose blooming from frozen ground, when neither the coldness of the cryptic winter could end your sweetness.

You were there even when your heart broke at the sight of him, defeated and lost without his Sarah; without the tiny baby he raised, he died in his arms that night of September.

You were there when he became cold, and Machiavellian, a distant ghost of the sweet man with the gleamy brown eyes that smiled at you without a warning, was just off and gone.

And you were broken for him, anxious and afraid of him letting his life go away because the pain of tightening his chest might have been stronger than his love for you.

He was hurting you by hurting himself, and he knew it. He knew he was hurting you; he was aware of the pain he was causing just by looking at your somber gaze, lost in state. Yet he couldn't care or see beyond his own pain. He had lost his daughter and his baby, and he was losing you as you slipped through his fingers.

He had tried to end his life, but he failed. He was going to leave you behind, and he didn’t think about it. He had decided he was going to die and find solace in the thought that he would be reunited with his daughter in a peaceful world while leaving you in a tarnished reality full of monsters and nightmares. Alone with your fears and pain suffocating your lungs. Alone, just by yourself, as if he wasn't the only reason you had to survive.

After the bullet rubbed the skin of his temple, you became silent. You weren’t able to look at the scar marked on his skin, let alone look at his eyes.

And Joel’s heart was constricted against his ribs. Once he failed, he woke up from his trance, and he became aware that he hadn’t been looking after you as he should, but you were silent and you were on his mind.

You weren’t talking, but he knew you were broken because of him.

One day, you were coughing, and Joel's heart contracted against his ribs, and his breath stopped as he listened to your complaints.

"You're sick," he said, looking at you, pacing angrily at him mostly.

Silence.

"You should drink water or

"Or one of those things is going to come after us, I know," you replied without giving a look.

“Do you want to get yourself?"

"Killed? Yes, maybe I do want that." Your voice was motionless, as your eyes kept staring at the flames from the fire flying away to the sky.

"Don't you ever say that; you hear me?"

Silence, defeating silence.

"Answer when I talk to you, please.” He looked for a glimpse of the spark that used to adorn your gaze. Joel's voice trembled with emotion as he stepped closer to you.

"You can't give up," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned away from him, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows across the walls of your makeshift shelter.

“You were going to give up,” you whispered once you weren’t facing him.

Joel's heart sank at your words, the weight of them heavy in the air between you. He reached out a hand, hesitating, before gently resting it on your shoulder.

"I... I know," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "I was lost. I was so consumed by my own pain that I couldn't see beyond it. But seeing you... seeing how much I've hurt you... it's woken me up."

You felt his touch, gentle over your skin, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him. The wounds were still raw, and the pain was too fresh.

"I'm sorry," Joel whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I promise to do better. To be better."

Silence hung heavy between you, but it wasn't the suffocating silence of before. It was a silence tinged with possibility and the hope of redemption.

Slowly, tentatively, you turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of sincerity.

"You tried to kill yourself, Joel!" You called out "You are in pain, but I am too! Sarah was mine too; maybe not by blood, but she was my daughter too." You sobbed, not being able to contain the tears from spilling. "You were going to leave me alone. Here and-"

He cut you off by pressing his lips against you, expressing all the love he held on his chest and on his whole body for you.

"I love you; I love you; I love you," he murmured against your lips, recomforting, "I'm sorry."

As Joel's lips met yours, a flood of emotions washed over you: love, sorrow, forgiveness, and hope. His kiss was a silent confession, a promise to be there for you, to fight alongside you, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

Tears mingled with the warmth of his embrace as you melted into his arms, feeling the weight of the world begin to lift from your shoulders. In that moment, you realized that, despite the pain and the struggles, there was still beauty to be found in the love you shared.

"I love you too," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. "I forgive you."

Joel pressed his forehead against yours, holding your face in his palms with such a delicate touch. "We keep each other alive," he murmured.

"We keep each other alive," you echoed softly, the weight of his words sinking in.

He kept the promise. He would live for you, and you would live for him; you were each other's reason to stay alive in a mad world.

With time, he let his guard down. Settling in a place like Jackson, in a world like this, it seemed like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. There were people laughing, wearing nice clothes, and sleeping under a safe roof, and yes, it was nice, but Joel didn't want the conformity to ruin his careful routine.

But he couldn't help it. It was impossible to resist his sights in the mornings when the first rays of sunshine peeked through the window, directly at you on your side of the bed. He was astonished by you, by the effortless beauty of your creases and your ends, by your peaceful demeanor, next to the warmth he would provide. 

While his achy bones and silver hair reminded him that he was getting old, you looked the same, as if time and pain never took their toll on you.

"You always do that," you murmured, your voice drained from sleep.

"Do what?" was his question, smiling.

"Staring," you blinked your eyes open, trying to wash your sleep away. "It's creepy"

"I love watching you sleep, so I can remember what you thought the day was."

You chuckled; the sound resonated in Joel's ears.

"Sorry if it creeps you out," Joel said, his smile softening. "I just... I can't help it. You're beautiful, even when you're asleep."

You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching out to tousle his hair affectionately. "You're such a sap, Joel."

He laughed, leaning into your touch. "Maybe I am. But I mean it. You're the reason I’m alive.”

Your smile dropped. “Don’t say that.”

Joel's expression softened, realizing he may have touched a sensitive nerve. He gently took your hand in his, his eyes searching yours with sincerity.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly. "But it's true. You've been my anchor through the storm, the light in the darkness. Without you, I don't know where I'd be."

A tiny smile graced your lips as you looked at him, studying his face, the creases on his forehead, and the silver hair growing. Time had hurt Joel, but it made him look beautiful to your eyes, and you felt a sadness within your body.

“What do you want to do today?” Joel asked, smiling at you.

You took a moment to compose yourself, letting Joel's words sink in before responding. Despite the weight of his declaration, you knew his love for you was genuine, and it filled you with warmth.

"I don't know," you replied, returning his smile. "Maybe we could take a walk around the town? It's been a while since we've explored together."

Joel nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "That sounds like a great idea. It'll be nice to spend some time outside, away from these walls.”

Joel didn't like how people ignored him. His protective instincts kicked in as he noticed the way some people in the town seemed to ignore your presence. He tightened his grip on your hand in a gesture of solidarity and support. Even though he knew that you were the only one who could see him, he couldn't bear to see you being overlooked and dismissed by others.

“You seemed tense,” you joked, nudging his neck with your nose as you walked.

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for your ability to find humor even in difficult situations.

“Yeah, well, I hate how people look at me as if I were," he replied, his voice tinged with warmth as he squeezed your hand gently.

“You know why,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before turning his attention back to the path ahead.

Just then, Tommy noticed Joel walking and approached him with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Brother! Where are you off to?" Tommy called out, his voice breaking through the silent atmosphere in Joel’s little world.

Joel glanced at Tommy, offering a small smile in return. "Just taking a walk," he replied, gesturing the way.

Tommy's smile widened as he nodded, noticing Joel’s cheerful humor. "Nice to see you out and about.” He downed his head for a moment. “Are you okay, right?”

Joel looked at Tommy for a moment, waiting for the words to come out of his lips: “Better than ever.”

"Yeah, Tommy, I'm doing alright," Joel replied, his voice laced with false cheerfulness. "Just enjoying the day."

Tommy nodded, though a hint of skepticism flickered in his eyes. "Good to hear, Joel. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."

With that, Tommy bid them farewell, leaving Joel to grapple with the weight of his secret once more. As they resumed their walk, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that gnawed at him, knowing that no matter how much he longed for connection,.

“Don’t be mad. He’s just worried,” you said, picking up on Joel’s behavior.

Joel sighed softly, grateful for your understanding and support. He knew you were right; Tommy meant well, and his concern was genuine. Yet the weight of his secret still pressed heavily on Joel's shoulders, a constant reminder of the barrier that separated him from the rest of the world.

"I know," Joel murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just wish I could... I’m the big brother.”

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering a silent gesture of comfort. Joel found solace in your presence, in the way you understood him without needing words.

"I'm lucky to have you," Joel whispered, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You smiled at him, not speaking more words, and you continued your walk together, hand in hand. 

Once you were outside the walls of Jackson, you led the way. As Joel noticed the surroundings, his apprehension grew with each step. Memories of that fateful day flooded his mind—the pain, the fear, and the aftermath.

"I don't like this place," he said, his voice tinged with apprehension as he halted abruptly in his tracks.

You turned to face him, noting the five-foot gap that separated you. "Please, “you implored, your fingertips gently caressing his cheeks. His eyes closed, savoring the warmth against his skin, oblivious to the tears welling up.

"Love," he murmured, his voice trailing off.

“Please, tell me you still have that sweet love inside you," you pleaded, still tracing delicate patterns on his face.

"You know I don’t," he finally answered, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

As the warmth of your touch withdrew, he opened his eyes, meeting yours with a mixture of fear and longing. Tears shimmered in your eyes, and Joel felt his heart clench.

"It's been a year, Joel," you whispered, but he shook his head, unwilling to accept your words.

"You need to let me go," you urged gently.

"I can't. I don't want to," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart ached as you listened to Joel's words, knowing the depth of his pain and longing. You wished you could ease his suffering; you wished you could erase the sorrow that weighed so heavily on his shoulders. But you also knew that holding on to the past would only prolong his agony.

"Joel," you said softly, reaching out to cup his face in your hands once more.

“I can’t,” he repeated. “This is the only way I can have you,” his tears falling down his checks.

"I can't just let you go," Joel protested, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I was so happy that you were mine.”

Your eyes softened with understanding, yet they were also filled with a profound sadness. "I know it's hard, Joel. But holding onto me like this is only hurting you more. You deserve to find peace."

Joel's gaze faltered, torn between the desire to cling to the memory of you and the need to find a way to heal. His heart ached with the unbearable emptiness that consumed him, a void that seemed impossible to fill.

"I don't know how to live without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering him a silent anchor amidst the storm of his emotions. "You don't have to do it alone, Joel. Let me be a part of your memories, but also let yourself live for the present."

Tears welled up in Joel's eyes, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of your words. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded, a flicker of hope stirring within his heart.

“Close your eyes,” you told him, grabbing the same hand you had put on the wedding band the day you got married, when the world hadn’t ended.

As Joel closed his eyes, a sense of calm washed over him, knowing that whatever was to come, he was not alone. He felt the warmth of your touch and the gentle pressure of your hand in his, and he let himself be enveloped by the love and comfort you offered.

With a trembling breath, you began to speak, your voice soft yet filled with emotion. "Joel," you whispered, your words carrying the weight of a lifetime of love and memories. "I want you to know how much you meant to me and how deeply I loved you."

Tears streamed down Joel's cheeks as he listened, hanging onto every word and every syllable that passed your lips. He felt his heart ache with bittersweet longing, the pain of losing you mingling with the warmth of your love.

"You were my everything, Joel," you continued, your voice breaking with the intensity of your emotions. "And even though I'm not physically with you anymore, I will always be a part of you, guiding you and watching over you."

Joel's grip tightened around your hand, his chest constricting with a mixture of grief and gratitude. "I love you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

And then, as you finished speaking, Joel felt a shift in the air—a gentle breeze that seemed to carry your presence away. He opened his eyes, expecting to see you standing there before him, but to his dismay, you were gone.

"No," Joel whispered, his voice echoing through the empty space around him. "Don't leave me."

But there was no response, no comforting touch to reassure him. You were gone, leaving behind only the memories and an ache in Joel's heart that would never truly heal. And as he stood there, alone in the silence,.

Ever since that tragic day, when you had died while patrolling with Joel, he had been unable to escape the relentless grip of grief. It was a stupid accident, one he could have prevented if he had been faster, but he wasn't, and he was paying the price.

Right now, every moment and every breath seem to echo with your absence. He had held himself to the memories of your laughter, your touch, and your presence by his side. Everywhere he turned, he saw traces of you. You were there, and he could touch you, but now your goodness fades away with the air. He longed for the comfort of your embrace, the warmth of your smile, and the sound of your voice calling out his name.

But there was silence. He turned around, and with the heaviness in his heart and tears spilling down his checks, he walked back alone to Jackson. This time, there was no reminder of you by his side. Tears blurred Joel's vision as he trudged along the familiar path, the memories of that day replaying in his mind like a relentless nightmare.

But no amount of regret or self-blame could bring you back, and Joel knew that he would have to find a way to carry on without you by his side.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears still streaming down his cheeks, Joel resolved to carry on, to face each day with courage and determination, knowing that even though you were gone, your love would always be with him.

You were always on his mind.

[blue-jisungs]

wounds

author's note. let’s gaur another zoro piece ☝️

++ i stated it before, i’ll say it again: i never watched the og opla! i think there was a medic? but yns is a medic here so i just hope like,, it makes sense? also if some characters are ooc, i’m sorry!! i’m still slowly learning about them hehe

summary. zoro realised his feelings for you through unfortunate events, whereas you come to a conclusion that his actions speak louder than words

word count. 3k-ish

warnings. oh boy. violence, swearing, blood, a guy throws a weird comment or two at reader, reader gets called bitch :( , m*n, medical stuff but nothing too crazy since i’m not a professional, daggers (stabbing), yn being kinda an idiot for trusting strangers, brief mention of drugs ++ pls lmk if i missed anything 🙏

zoro stole a glance at you, the soft rocking of the ship causing some bottles with strangely-looking fluids to move around your desk. luffy grinned and patted you on your back, causing a small smile to bloom on your lips.

“so, we’re arriving in a moment. let’s get the meds we need and have some free time! How does that sound?” he asked with enthusiasm.

“and i’ll buy some fresh ingredients. i would lose my mind if i had to work with almost-rotten vegetables for even a day longer…” sanji grunted, causing zoro to roll his eyes “is our medic craving something special?”

“hmm, maybe… what about a sweet pudding? i haven’t eaten one in a while” you hummed. luffy’s eyes shone with excitement. sanji winked, drawing a disgusted face from the green-haired man.

“your wish is my command. and you, mosshead, should respect this lady more. she’s really saving our asses” the blond haired man commented.

the truth was, it was mostly sanji or usopp who you were saving. while zoro made it safe and sound out of his fights, so did luffy and nami. usopp, well, he was more on the clumsy side, while sanji occasionally had some wounds when he accidentally cut or burned himself while cooking. after almost losing zoro, the crew knew that a medic would be a useful addition to the crew… and just one day luffy found you on your island, working as a volunteer in a local health care centre. and persuaded you into joining them. (a certain tall, green-haired man also had an influence on your choice).

“we arrived!” usopp suddenly bursted into the room. you grabbed your bag and looked around the room.

“does anyone want to go with me?” you asked.

“to buy meds and smell herbs? i’d rather take a nap” zoro mumbled and lazily left the room, secretly hoping sanji would turn down your offer too.

“i’ll go with sanji! maybe they’ll have some local food to offer…” luffy hummed. you nodded and then all three of you left going merry.

usopp left later, causing nami and zoro to be the only ones left.

as you strolled around the cozy city, you took in the sight of people and the sound of the rustle. living on a ship can get quite lonely sometimes, so you enjoyed the chaos of the town. even though zoro kept you company most of the time. he’d just… come into your room and watch you brew tea for sanji or study your medical books. you both enjoyed such closeness, even if not a word was said. sure, you had conversations too - and you were surprised to realise how funny zoro is. you couldn’t lie, you were aware that you have a crush on him. zoro though, seemed uninterested. like now, just saying that he’ll pass. his answer made you a little disappointed - besides buying new meds, you were hoping for some time alone with zoro.

“well, he’s the one missing out” you mumbled t6o yourself and shook your head as if to get the swordsman off your mind.

suddenly, you smelled a delicious aroma of fresh bread. walking closer to one of the shops, you realised it’s a bakery. maybe you’ll grab a snack and ask if there’s any herbalists around…? sounds like an idea.

when you disappeared inside the local, someone smiled mischievously and backed away to return to his boss.

“... herbs?” the man repeated, thinking out loud. he didn’t look like a regular bakery employee but you ignored that. he was selling delicious chocolate buns! “down the road. there’s a pharmacy but we do have a local herb seller, he wanders in the woods often. after i’m done with my shift, i can lead you to him”

“oh, that would be great! i’ll go to the pharmacy then and be back!” you hummed, smiling. what a nice guy!

you spent way more time in the pharmacy than you intended to: the lady working there was really lovely and professional, the products she was selling were top quality. you chatted about meds and certain ingredients, shared recipes. and when you mentioned that you use some herbs to make teas, she seemed intrigued so you explained to her the purpose.

in the end, you left with two more bags than you planned to. while returning to the bakery, the sun started to set; sky was painted in deep oranges with purple strokes, announcing the farewell of the bright day.

“sorry i was late…” you started and saw the guy get up immediately. he had a slight frown on his face.

“no worries. let’s go” he mumbled and grabbed your wrist, urging you to leave. you stiffened and your jaw clenched but you followed him, too curious about the herbs to let an alarm ring in your head.

“why does he wander in the woods?” you asked quietly, observing how people closed their stalls and shops in hurry before it gets completely dark.

“dunno. he’s just a weirdo. probably there’s a lot of wild plants there” he huffed. nodding to yourself, you gulped. good thing he’s accompanying you, it wouldn’t be too safe to walk around the woods alone, at night.

after what felt like hours, you realised you left the city far behind. the sky was decorated with blinking stars, open navy sky embracing you.

“i… is it far away?” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks. he turned around, the darkness surrounding you didn’t allow to read his facial expression.

“five more minutes, i promise” he said… his voice more calm now.

“o-okay. i need to go soon, so we better be quick” a quiet murmur left your mouth. you started to regret not urging zoro to go with you.

the man was right; you soon enough found yourself in the middle of woods.

“so… um, where’s the guy?” you asked, looking around. your hands started to hurt from the bags you had to carry. besides, there was a rumbling in your stomach.

“he’ll show up in a second, trust me. so, what did you buy in the pharmacy?” he asked.

luffy entered the ship, humming something underneath his breath, with sanji carrying a bag. usopp looked at them curious.

“so, what didya buy?” he asked, almost jumping out of his seat “what are we having for dinner?”

“something fancy, for sure. i still need to think about it. we’re having a pudding for dessert though because y/n wanted it… speaking of which, is she in her room? i forgot to ask if she wanted a vanilla or a chocolate one”

“what?” zoro asked, stopping in his tracks, swords halting mid-air. the guys looked at each other.

“what ‘what?’? we thought she was back already” luffy blinked slowly and noticed nami approach.

“she didn’t, i thought she joined you” usopp stuttered and shifted his gaze to zoro “didn’t you leave at some point too?”

“yeah, to look around? but there was nothing interesting to do so i came back and took a nap…?” he mumbled.

“you did not just let y/n wander around here” nami said, fear in her voice.

“well, apparently, we did” luffy gasped “why?”

“this city is like, known for being totally not-women safe. especially after dark! that’s why i didn’t want to go there, luffy” she hissed “and why i didn’t leave the ship! god! y/n can’t even f–”

“she’ll be okay, she can fight–” usopp started.

“fight” nami finished.

“y/n can’t fight…?” zoro’s heart skipped a beat.

“there’s no time to explain. we should go look for her, idiots!” nami grunted. zoro, full of regret and worry, followed her. he wasn’t sure why he got so scared why nami said that but all he knew for now is that he had to find you.

you didn’t even realise when that happened. a group of muscular and tattooed men appeared from nowhere, not looking like herb enthusiasts at all.

“so this is the pretty lady, huh?” one of them stepped out. he was bald and definitely scary-looking “you have something we want… but before i take it, tell me. is this your first time here?”

you nodded weakly when he approached you.

“and it will be her last!” one of them snickered, drawing laughs from the rest.

“aren’t you a cute little thing, trusting strangers in a city you’ve never been to… ah” he laughed and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes “why did you buy poppy seeds?”

“t-to make medicine…” you stuttered. you noticed the one from bakery standing behind the bald one’s back.

“medicine! ha! you’re pretty funny! you know what we make here out of poppy seeds?” he hummed, leaning in way too close to your liking. you could smell his nasty breath, your hands going limp. you dropped the bags, its content spilling around your legs “drugs”

you gulped and tried to move back but he yanked you by your wrist. this action caused you to bump into his chest.

“so, we’ll take them. and the other goodies you bought, too. and then… we’ll take you!” he laughed.

shaking your head, you pushed him away and tried to run away.

you failed, a sharp yank of your shirt causing you to trip and fall on the ground.

“by take i mean two things” the bald man chuckled and kneeled down, looking for the poppy seeds amongst the scattered products.

you tried to crawl away when he did so, heart thumping against your ribcage. if only you could fight… you wouldn’t be so scared and-

“where do you think are you going?” he growled and pulled you back by your leg. your head hit the ground, a unpleasant tinnitus-alike sound overtaking your ears.

“leave me alone!” you yelled out. the man must have said or do something that caused two other guys to grab your hands and tie them.

“only after i’m done with you!” he grunted and suddenly you felt his weight over you, caging you between the ground. starting to squirm around and kick, you were yelling your throat out; tears starting to spill from your eyes. “shut up, bitch!”

then you felt it. a sudden, stinging pain spreading in the left side of your face.

he just hit you.

the impact was so strong that you immediately felt the blood trickle from your nose.

“i’d hate to kill you because after we’re done, we’d sell you… but if you keep squirming…” he grunted and leaned in. he put a hand on your hair and stroked it gently. he leaned to your ear and licked your earlobe before adding: “then i’ll have to slit your throat”

you hoped that the scream you just left out was hearable from afar.

“get off her right now or its your throat that’s going to be slit first”

you gasped, trying to look for the source of the voice: zoro. zoro is here. or are you dreaming?

“and who the fuck are you?” the bald man said and laughed, his hand landing on your neck “i’ll do whatever i want”

his fingers tightened the grip on your neck. he was either lucky or skilled enough to know which places to squeeze because you felt your flow of oxygen being cut off.

“says who?” zoro huffed and with one swift move yankled the man by his shirt and got him off you. taking a deep breathe in, your vision went blurry - it was either the tears or the result of sitting up too fast.

“you’re a real piece of shit to attack girls, huh” zoro grunted and after effortlessly defeating another one of the bald man’s minions. the swordsman wanted to destroy the others, let them suffer and die in pain. normally, he’d take his time.

but it was about you. which made it even worse – he wanted to kill them slowly, one by one… demolish to the ground because they hurt you. then again, he wanted to make it quick so he can check if you’re alright as fast as possible.

and just when only the boss was left, he heard your scream. one that was full of pure pain.

turning his head back, but not losing focus from the guy, he saw one of them stand above you. he must have slipped away when he was busy with the bald guy but…

then he saw it, shining in the moonlight.

the dagger’s blade shun with silver tints, stuck in your ribcage.

zoro didn’t hold back. it took one swift move to throw one of his swords right between the attacker’s eyes and one precise move to synchronise both of his hands, cutting the bald’s man body in half.

then he ran up to you, grabbing you in his arms gently. your face looked pale, whether it was the moonlight or just the color draining off your face.

“don’t take this out” you grunted, moving your hand to his arm “and… take the meds…”

“fuck the meds, you’re bleeding” for the first time in ages zoro felt helpless. and disappointment in himself. you tried to scoff, the action bringing more pain to your body than you predicted

“don’t… the meds are just as important” your voice went quieter and quieter; zoro noticed that you struggled to keep your eyes open. which was, he assumed, a bad sign.

“don’t pass out on me, okay? keep it together, doctor” the green haired man breathed out and in one swift move he carried you in a bridal style. someone from the crew was supposed to arrive here too, if he passes them by he’ll just say that they need to take the meds.

zoro felt your body going limp in his arms, his heart dropping. running for his (and your) life, careful enough not to hurt you, he felt the strange heavy sensation in his chest.

for the next two days, a sinking feeling of guilt in zoro’s stomach wouldn’t go away. you were unconscious, the atmosphere on the going merry was tense.

“we didn’t know she can’t fight. if we did, we’d obviously accompany her” sanji grunted, hands never stoping mixing whatever he was mixing.

“why y/n never told us?” luffy sighed, voice small. as a captain, he felt disappointed he wasn’t able to protect you. on the other hand, he was glad you’re here now. nami bit her lip and looked at zoro.

“she didn’t want to seem weak” the orange-haired girl explained “i promised her i’ll teach her some basic moves but… we never…”

usopp entered the room, he was just talking to your unconscious state. well, more like to himself but–

“the doctor said she’ll be okay, right?” he asked, sitting next to zoro.

they figured that if you got medication somehow, there must be someone who knows at least has basic medical knowledge. in no time usopp came back with a pharmacist that talked to you – the lady was really saddened by your wounds too.

she scolded them for letting you go on your own (as if zoro haven’t already made a mental promise to himself to never do that again) and then proceeded to take care of you, telling them to change the bandages and apply some meds.

zoro left the dining space and slowly padded to the captain’s room. they figured that i’d only be safer if you stayed in a more stable position (rather than a hammock) for the time being.

entering the room, he stopped in his tracks upon seeing you… sitting at the edge of the mattress, changing your own bandage. sweat was dripping down your forehead, face pale.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked calmly, stepping closer to you. your eyes widened, meeting his.

“hi” you breathed out, shaky fingers halting.

“hi” zoro replied softly and then suddenly placed his hands on your arms, gently pushing you to sit against the wall.

then he grabbed the old bandage and threw it away. he desinfected his hands with a special liquid and grabbed new bandage.

“how long have you been up?” he asked, looking at the wound. it still needed some healing but it wasn’t open and bleeding anymore.

“dunno, moments from usopp’s leave. how… how long i’ve been asleep though?” you asked wearily and pointed at a cream on the nightstand “apply this first, then the bandage”

“two days” zoro replied, grabbing the container with a herbal smell. he was trying to find a good way to word out his worries, but (as usual) they came out harsher than he intended “why didn’t you tell us you can’t fight?”

a heavy sigh left your mouth, which caused a glimpse of pain run through your face.

“i just didn’t want to be a burden” you mumbled. the man noted the slight difference of what you said and what nami said your reasoning was.

zoro’s calloused yet tender fingers applied the cooling substance on your wound. you hissed due to the sting, your hand flying to grab his free one.

“you’re not weak nor a burden” he said, letting you squeeze his hand; he didn’t mind and found it quite… warming “i will teach you”

you smiled. he didn’t offer, he didn’t insist. he stated that.

“thank you. and i’m sorry for scaring you all like that” a whisper left your lips, watching as zoro started to put the bandage now. you leaned a bit closer so he could wrap it around your back, causing your breath to hit his neck. zoro tried to stay focused, the sudden realisation of how close you were making him hyper-aware.

“you scared some of us to death” he answered suddenly “next time just… don’t be such an idiot. if it weren’t for me…”

“humble as always” you snickered and watched him finish bandaging you.

“i…” the green-haired man hesitated. for a moment your eyes met and you saw it in the mirror of his ebony irises: i’m sorry. i was worried. so fucking scared and angry, feeling guilty and terrified. he smiled gently “just don’t do this again, m’kay?”

“i’ll try. and… thank you for saving me” you returned his smile.

you stayed like that for a moment, your hand still on his. too afraid to move, to speak out – yet the silence was speaking volumes.

roronoa zoro cared for you.

he just didn’t know how to say it out loud yet.

but just like wounds, he needed some time. and you were - oh so - willing to give him it.

masterlist <3

[reiderwriter]

Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 

"Sir, with all due respect -" 

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 

–X– 

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 

"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 

After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 

You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 

"What?" 

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch." 

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X– 

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 

Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 

"What do you want us to do?" 

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

[goldengalore]

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[pinkaditty]

WHB Sitri Thirst

teehee guess who's back (at long last!!!!!)

summary: sitri needs to give you devil energy in Satan's absence. you are tired of him calling you Solomon. a/n: you would not BELIEVE how many days this took like what if i keeled over and died fr. ANYWAYS ANYWAYS part 3 of the pervert obey me thing is still in the works as well as a few other writing projects im working on. please be patient with me i swear i will deliver what the crowd wants!!!!!!!!!!!!

also any anons that have sent asks: I SEE THEM! I PROMISE! I WILL RESPOND!

cw: cardiophilia, smut, creampie, begging, sub!sitri, dom!reader, gn!reader (none of the reader's physical attributes are mentioned with a specific description), some fang action, mentions of blood, NOT PROOFREAD, and i think that's all! let me know if i missed anything in the comments, please!

Word count: ~3k

ONCE AGAIN AS USUAL MINORS DNI! I DO NOT WANT YOU INTERACTING WITH MY CONTENT THANKS!

By the time you'd returned to your lodging, Sitri was riddled with want and desire. Your face betrayed nothing, but you knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating a million times per minute as you attempted to unlock the door. The temptation to slow your pace to tease him was hard to resist, but you knew it would be useless when your heart gave away your every thought. Sitri is not a demon of many words, but you can hear his silent urging in his heavy breathing and twitching fingers against the leather of his harness. 

Thump, thump, thump.

You can feel your heart beating in your neck as you carefully turn the knob to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside, holding it open for Sitri to follow. He wastes no time in stepping through the threshold, the click of his heels stopping short before he turns to watch you as you close the door. You take your time doing it, the thumping of your heart harmonizing with the creak of the door. Sitri only watches, but you can feel his gaze boring into the back of your neck as you prolong the creaking of the door until it finally reaches the end. You shut the door in tune with your heartbeat. Thump.

The newfound silence of the room is almost deafening. You only realize how dark it is when you notice nothing but moonlight pouring across your skin. It is cool and glowing, illuminating the room in white light. You turn to look at Sitri, and the moment your eyes meet his, he approaches you. His light blue hair flows as he moves, shining white in the light. His skin is ever so pale, only dotted by a blue pentagram on his neck and the soft pink of his lips, pointed downwards in a soft pout. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is lust. He reaches for you, sharp blue nails curling into your clothing and holding you in place before he swiftly buries his face in your chest, listening intently to your heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump.

He presses his ear to your chest and sighs comfortably, gripping your body like a lifeline.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Solomon…" He whispers quietly into your chest, relaxing against you. "How I missed this sound." His lips brush lightly against your chest as he speaks, making you shiver. 

You part your lips to correct him, remind him that you're not Solomon, but you don't bother after observing how peaceful he seemed, pressed against your chest. Despite him being so close, you could tell he was still antsy, his fingers tightening and loosening their grip on you, his thighs squeezing together and releasing, his breathing still heavy on your chest… 

Careful to avoid his horn, you gather some of his hair and tug on it twice, gently pulling him away. He hesitantly, and rather reluctantly, moves away from your chest, his lips still in a soft pout. He looks at you questioningly, and you simply shake your head. "Come on, let's get comfortable at least." You tug him along to your bed, sitting on it, and motioning for him to sit next to you. Instead of doing that, however, he situates himself on your lap, facing you. He curls his arms around your waist and once again presses his ear to your chest, as though desperate to hear your heart again. He pulled you closer with his arms and pressed into you further with his ear, so much so that you ended up on your back with him pressed against you at every inch, listening to your heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump.

You hear him whispering Solomon's name multiple times, like a prayer, savoring the way it sounded on his tongue. You were not Solomon. But you could tolerate it… for now.

He just couldn't seem to get enough. He continued to press his ear into your chest, as though he needed to hear every single contraction, like he needed to hear the blood as it rushed to and from your heart. He started breathing heavier, his face turning red as he did. He began to press his body against yours a little rougher, breathy whines coming from his lips as he did. 

"Solomon, Solomon, Solomon…"

He begins to nuzzle his face into your chest, needing to feel more, more, and more. You hear him click his teeth in annoyance at your shirt, and he rather brazenly tears it away, as well as anything underneath, with his sharp nails. He tosses the ripped clothing to the side, ignoring your shocked noise, and presses his lips to your chest, right where your heart would be. He pulls away, his heavy breathing turning to panting, and he continues pressing kisses to your chest. You sigh in pleasure and let him continue, not that stopping him would result in anything fruitful.

The kisses become more and more desperate, and eventually, his lips make room for his tongue and teeth, licking and scraping his fangs against your chest. Occasionally he pauses, panting out of sheer excitement, and presses his ear against your chest again to listen to your rapid heartbeat. Each time he does, you feel him shift his hips and squeeze his thighs together, a shudder running down his spine. His hands grip anything within reach - your waist, your chest, your shoulders, your hair, the sheets - his hands rotate indiscriminately like he can’t decide what should ground him. You reach around him and tug on his hair, taming him. He hums into your chest and pulls back, lips swollen slightly from working at your chest, and eyes teary from stimulation. His face is bright red, barely visible in the pale moonlight. His chest heaves from his panting. You behold this sight for a while, gazing at him.

“I’ll need more than this to receive your devil energy, Sitri.” You gently remind him of the purpose of this endeavor, and his blush deepens. You reach out to cradle his cheek in your palm, and he leans into it, pressing his fingers against your wrist to feel your pulse. 

“I apologize, Solomon. I… I’ll make you feel good.” The words drip from his lips like saliva, thick and heavy with meaning, hunger laced in every syllable. He licks from your wrist to your palm, as though he could taste your pulse, before releasing your wrist and shifting his focus to your lower body. He grabs the hem of your clothing and gently tugs it away, removing your intimates as well. He seems to savor the way more of your skin is revealed, more skin through which blood flows, all for him to hear through a pulse. 

He moves further away to allow him access to you, kneeling just off of the bed and facing your core directly. He leans his head against your right thigh, pressing his ear to it to listen for a pulse, holding your left thigh away from his horn. You can tell immediately when he finds your pulse, as his grip on you tightens quickly, and he sighs in satisfaction. He starts almost immediately, licking a long stroke from the bottom to the top. You stiffen, trembling. You carefully prop yourself up on your elbows as he continues, sighing in pleasure. He maneuvers his tongue in long, careful strokes, exploring you as he pressed your thigh closer to his ear. All he needed was your heartbeat to know how well he was doing.

Thump, thump, thump.

You roll your hips against Sitri, reaching down for him and gripping his hair, encouraging him. He whimpers when you pull his hair, and you feel him shudder against your thigh. He peers up at you as he continues, his long tongue strokes turning into shorter, more focused ones at more sensitive points. He swirls his tongue in small circular strokes and the steady pattern of stimulation makes you see stars. You tugged harder on his hair, pulling him in closer to you, and he follows, malleable to your touch. It wasn’t much longer until you reached your peak, gripping his hair like a vice and trembling, pleased moans falling from your lips. He grips your thighs harder as you ride out the last of it, thumbs pressing painfully hard into the skin of them, feeling the blood pulse through your veins under his fingers. When you release his hair, he finally pulls away, his lips dripping with the remnants of your release. His hair is mussed, his skin is flushed red, his pupils are blown wide, and his lips are swollen and pink. He is beautiful.

His thumbs are still pressed painfully hard into your thighs and his ear is still pressed against your skin. He’s the picture of ecstasy, enjoying each and every thump of your heart, savoring the sound as though it’s the last he’ll hear of it. 

“Solomon…” He pants, licking his lips to clear them of your release. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he shivers again, and you watch as he bites his lip from the sheer thrill of listening to your heartbeat. “Thank you… Thank you for letting me indulge…” He pants between his words, rubbing his cheek against your thigh, still listening to your heartbeat. 

You decide you have had enough.

You sit up a bit more, adjusting your posture, and he watches you with adoring, lustful eyes. You roughly grab the front of his shirt, slightly damp with saliva, and pull him towards you. He obediently follows, watching with wide eyes as you lead him over you, pressing his knees into the bed. You take this opportunity to hook your legs behind his knees and flip him over on his back, pressed into the bed as you hover over him.

“I am not Solomon.” You stare down at him, adoring his shocked expression and red cheeks. You reach low for his pants, pressing a palm into his strained erection, gently pulling at his pants button before it pops open, revealing his zipper.

He squirms from your movements, excitement lighting up every nerve of his body. He looks away from you nervously, mumbling an apology. His words are breathless and desperate. “I apologize, Descendant of-”

“No.” You interrupt him quickly, reaching for his jaw and holding it in place. He stops talking purely out of shock, his lips snapping shut. He watches you with wide eyes, breathing heavily. “I do not care about being his descendant. I only want you to say my name. Say my name. It is me you are in bed with, not Solomon.”

He exhales, whimpering slightly. “Yes, yes… MC. MC.” He pants out your name, pupils blown wide with lust once again. “Please… please let me indulge myself, MC.” He begins to beg, squirming more. You knew perfectly well he could hear your heartbeat from where he was, but perhaps it was not enough. Ignoring his pleas, you instead reach down for his zipper, this time pulling it down agonizingly slowly. You watch as he twitches beneath you, his eyes rolling again in ecstasy, waiting for his dick to be free. He starts panting impatiently as you finally unzip them all the way. He whines, his fingers curling into the sheets. “Please… please please please, let me indulge myself. Please, MC.” He begs more, blinking away pitiful tears as you hook your fingers over the band of his boxers, pulling them down. He whimpers more, and you finally indulge him, moving your other hand closer to his head, turning so that your wrist was right against his ear. He sighs happily, and presses his ear to your wrist, sighing again when you finally free his length. He gently rolls his hips upwards, not high enough to touch you, but enough to send a message. He pleads with his eyes, wide and wanting for you. He awaits your movement, biting his lip and curling a hand around your wrist to feel for your pulse again.

Thump, thump, thump.

You simply smile at him as he pleads, and position yourself above him, at last. He visibly gulps, his eyes flickering from your core to your face. Various pleas and whines and broken phrases fall from his lips as you gently position his erection to align with you, and you begin to slowly lower yourself to where his tip meets your entrance. He starts to squirm, the pleas getting more and more insistent. You make direct eye contact with him and hold his gaze and you lower yourself onto him entirely, taking his length in full. He moans pitifully, never breaking eye contact. You bite your lip, gripping his side with one hand to steel yourself. You breathe deeply to calm yourself, still holding Sitri’s gaze. 

“Are you ready for me to start moving?” You ask, smiling and biting your lip.

He nods vigorously, too impatient to wait any longer. “Yes, yes!”

You waste no time in going slow. The want that burns within the two of you is far too great for that. Using your knees as leverage, you begin to move, lifting yourself off of him and immediately lowering back down to take him in. The sound of skin slapping on skin and the bed creaking begin to fill the room. Sitri rolls his eyes back and moves his hips to thrust upwards into you, though he can barely keep it up as the pleasure gets to his head. He keeps whimpering and moaning, writhing in pleasure and pressing his fingers to your wrists, savoring the feeling of your pulse. His light blue hair is spread out below him, his bangs sticking to his forehead. His eyes are wide and unfocused, switching between rolling back, staring at yours, or looking at your chest, listening to your thumping heart. His lips are parted and red, breathing heavily. 

You can feel him filling you up to the brim, his tip barely kissing a sweet spot deep within you as you continued riding him. You were panting, using up all your energy but unable to stop, purely from how good it felt. You suppressed your moans by biting your lip, but they would escape, betraying how quickly you were falling apart form the pleasure. Every time he managed to thrust upwards, he’d hit the sweet spot directly, and you would curl your back, moaning loudly. The pleasure began to build up within you, and you knew the same was true of him. 

You paused your quick movements to instead grind yourself on him, savoring the feeling of him inside and giving your legs a break. Sitri whines and curls his face towards your wrist, gently dragging his tongue across the spot where your pulse was strongest. He presses his lips to your pulse as you continue to grind, muffling his whines and savoring the feeling of your pulse on his lips. 

When you finally recover, you lift yourself up again, slowly dragging your walls across the entirety of his length. He pulls away from your wrist and moans, tightening his grip on your wrists and looking up at you pitifully. You lower yourself again, speeding up this time, and he sighs with pleasure, relishing the feeling of you riding him. The break was not enough, however, and you can still feel the pleasure building up. You speed up your movements, not bothering to hide your moans any longer. He simply writhes underneath you, his eyes rolling and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, tightening and releasing his grip on your wrists. He couldn’t ground himself anymore. 

You reach for his horn at last and grab it roughly, pulling his head towards your chest. He yelps in surprise, but that very quickly melts into a loud moan, muffled into your chest. He turns his head to press his ear to your chest, and wraps his arms around your back, listening for your heartbeat once more. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

You stroke his horn as you continue to ride him, and he’s practically yelling at this point, his moans so loud you were sure they could be heard down the hall. Your riding pattern becomes erratic as you reach your peak, and you can feel he is, too, as he desperately attempts to thrust upwards and scrapes his nails into your back, moans barely muffled by your chest. 

“MC… MC!” He calls your name and babbles pleas and broken words incoherently before you feel him thrust roughly upwards and still against you. His nails dig into your back and his ear presses harder against your chest than before. You feel him release inside you, warm and sedating. A similar liquid melts across your fingers from his horn, and it drips onto the bed. You are in a similar state, having reached your peak as well. You stiffen as you feel his release within you, panting and moaning, clenching your thighs together as tight as you could. 

He shivers against you before he collapses, releasing his grip on you and falling back onto the bed. His eyes are rolled far back into his skull, his lips parted wide and panting, and his cheeks are flushed a beautiful red. You relax and lean over him, not wanting to lift yourself off of him just yet. He whimpers softly at the feeling of still being inside you, twitching slightly. You press a gentle kiss to his lips, which he excitedly reciprocates, reaching weakly to cradle your chin in his hands. As the kiss deepens and becomes sloppy, your tongues searching each other’s mouths, he lazily wraps his arms around your neck, gently pulling you closer. You relax your body against him entirely, pressing your chest to his. Your heartbeats sync, slowing as you both come down from your highs. 

You break the kiss, licking your lips, and you look down at him. He looks up at you with hooded, satisfied eyes. His lips are parted, and his panting is slowly slowing down. 

“What’s my name?” You ask him, leaning towards him and pressing your forehead to his.

“MC.” He answers, smiling as he does. He curls his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer again and pressing your noses together.

Thump, thump, thump.

“You are not Solomon after all.”

------------------------------------------

a/n: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE SITRIIIIIIIIIII!! i admit i don't think this was my best writing ever but i hope it's good, genuinely, because i spent lots of time on it. reminder that i really appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, and asks!! please let me know what you all think!!

this was self-indulgent but also a gift for @jessamine-rose !!!!

[augustinbluex]

shoplifter

Pairings: Step Dad Mark x Security Guard Jeno x afab Reader

Summary: when you got caught stealing in a sex shop, you thought you'd earn another lecture from your stepdad. however, the lesson was not what you’d excepted

Genre: smut

Warnings: noncon elements, unprotected sex (be safe!), anal sex, rough sex, threesome, stepcest, double penetration, face slapping, pussy slapping, humiliation, degradation, fingering, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, creampie, overstimulation.

Word count: 3k+

THIS IS NOT YOUR TYPICAL GIRL DINNER. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

You sat there, your gaze fixated on the ticking clock, the anticipation clawing at your nerves. The wait was killing you—you’d been caught in this stupid fucking store, having maybe tried to leave without paying. The rent-a-cop had seized you, dragging you into the dimly lit backroom, but you managed to pull the name of Mark Lee out of your pocket like a desperate trump card. A way to escape the clutches of this predicament. The guard had glowered at you, reluctantly agreeing to make the call.

Mark would undoubtedly give you hell for this, yet he would also ensure that this embarrassing incident remained hidden from prying eyes. He wouldn't want the world to know that his step-daughter had been caught in the act of petty larceny within the confines of a sex shop.

So, all you had to do was wait.

The guard had given you a hard time when you dropped Mark's name. As if your father—no, your stepfather, you had corrected him—being who you claimed, he was automatically invalidated any suspicion. According to the guard, if your lineage held true, you could afford those tantalizing toys and bottles of lubricant. And perhaps, on some level, the thrill of doing something forbidden excited you. You had made sure to emphasize that point, emphasizing both the ‘naughty’ and the ‘excited’.

Too bad your criminal career apparently went bust on your first heist.

Voices echoed outside the closed door. There was an edge to Mark's voice, a tone that sent a shiver down your spine. The guard, on the other hand, seemed to find immense amusement. Telling the rich and powerful that their children got busted stealing sex toys probably was the highlight of this guy’s week.

"Hi, Mark," you greeted him, mustering a demure smile as the door swung open.

"You have no idea how disappointed I am in you," he responded, his gaze cold and piercing. Gesturing towards the desk, he continued, his voice laced with disdain, "I've already had a chat with Jeno here... but I'd like to hear it from you. Did you steal these items?"

His eyes settled upon the incriminating evidence displayed on the desk—the dildo and the bottle of lube, silent witnesses to your foolishness. You merely shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that seemed to catch him off guard.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "You've been acting out, breaking rules since..."

"Since my mother died," you finished his unspoken words with a bitter edge.

The truth was, you had been defying rules long before that tragic event shattered your world. It was just that Mark had finally taken notice of your rebellious streak, particularly after he started sending you to that exclusive, expensive school and footing the bill for your reckless driving tickets. It had hurt, realizing that he only seemed to experience distant emotions—distant disappointment, distant pride, distant everything. But it wasn't you who had changed when the loss struck.

Still, you couldn't help but resent his attempt to guilt trip you using your mother's death. "Save the 'since your mom died' lecture for the drive home," you said sharply.

Mark scowled, a realization dawning upon you that you had never seen him truly angry. He had always kept his emotions at arm's length—detached disappointment, detached pride—those were the only versions of him you had witnessed lately. "Why did you do this?" he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

"Because I wanted the damn dildo," you replied matter-of-factly. Your words hung in the air, unapologetic and unyielding. It didn't faze Mark. You even contemplated mentioning how lonely this summer would be since he had forbidden you from seeing those he deemed "bad influences."

"I understand, you know," Mark said, his voice devoid of its usual robotic tone. “And you could’ve paid for it, you have the money. I wouldn’t have judged you. We all need a release.”

You maintained your stance, reiterating and emphasizing your reasons. He just simply nodded. As you prepared to urge him forward, his hand landed firmly on your shoulder, and Jeno, the guard, promptly shut the door. 

“Mark, wha–”

Confusion tinged your voice as you questioned what was happening, but the air in the room suddenly grew colder, the atmosphere thick with tension.

"As I mentioned, I spoke to Jeno," he began, his voice chillingly detached. "He won't pursue legal charges, and I've taken care of the stolen merchandise. However..." He paused, his words hanging ominously in the air, "I believe it's time for you to learn a lesson."

In an instant, the fabric of your shirt was torn away, leaving you gasping in surprise. Before you could react, Mark forcefully maneuvered you across the room, bending you over the edge of the desk. Shock and fear coursed through your veins as you struggled to comprehend his actions.

"What are you doing?" You exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and fear.

He leaned in close, his grip tightening on a fistful of your hair. "Sweetheart, we all have to control our desires and restrain our darker impulses," he whispered, his words laced with an unsettling intensity.

Your voice quivered as you registered the pressure against you, feeling something hard pressing into you. "What?!" you managed to utter, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events.

“I’ve watched you prance around, debasing yourself, and I tried to reign myself in, thinking you just needed time. Time’s up.” With a forceful grip, he tore your skirt away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. "You've continued to defy me, and now it's time for you to understand the consequences of letting others have their way."

You tried to twist and strike him, but the guard grabbed your arms, wrestled them behind your back, and cuffed them. “Your daddy paid for some more toys as well.”

You struggled in vain, yelled your head off, and screamed when a hand dipped underneath your underwear and rubbed your pussy. It was only when Jeno cut you off by forcing a cloth into your mouth that you realized that it was Mark’s. You thrashed and moaned when a finger entered you. Your body shuddered, going very still when the next one entered, stroking inside.

“I wonder if this will be an effective punishment. She seems to be enjoying it.”

You shook your head and let out a furious growl until Mark pulled you up, working you over with his fingers. “You’re already wet, huh?” He asked, though it didn’t feel like a question. It felt like an observation, like he’s commenting on the weather and not your obvious arousal. “Jeno, come look at her. She’s so needy.”

“Fuck, she’s so turned on by this.” Jeno said, licking his lips as he looked down at you. He grabbed your bra and tugged, straps biting into your skin until they gave way. You squealed when he pinched a nipple. Sobbed when, while fondling that breast, he put his mouth on the other.

You shook your head. This was not happening. Your stepfather and some rent-a-cop were not raping you in a backroom at a sex shop. You were not, despite Mark’s assertions, ‘dripping wet’. You did not like being manhandled by two guys who knew what they were doing.

This was not happening.

You looked up, seeing Jeno pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside. Your eyes immediately went back to the odd stains in the ground when they landed on Mark. You were certainly not intimidated by seeing your stepdad’s cock.

“This is your place of business, Jeno. So I’ll let you pick, which hole do you want?”

Okay, he had humiliated you, fondled you, but your stepdad wasn’t going to fuck you. He wasn’t going to team with some random asshole to fuck you.

“Ass.”

“Grease her up.”

You stiffened at that. Jeno tossed a bottle—that lubricant you stole, over to Mark, who had managed to wrestle your panties off you as while warding off your attempts to kick him. You tried thrashing and wriggling when they held you down and two slick fingers pressed into your ass. You never let anyone there before, and you were not going to let it happen now. You tensed, clenched, and let out a cry as the man forced his fingers inside you. Someone slapped your ass hard.

“It’ll hurt more if you keep being a stubborn bitch.” Jeno growled.

An angry, forced cough from Mark, and he corrected himself. “It’ll hurt more if you keep being stubborn.”

Apparently his stepdaughter was not a bitch, even if he was going to rape you. That was almost funny. Then your ass was slapped again and again. Mark fingered you roughly, forcing his digits in and twisting. Eventually, you yielded, relaxing your muscles. It did not go unnoticed.

“See, baby? You can be a good girl.”

Jeno stood up and walked over to the chair, sitting down and motioning towards himself. With a grunt, Mark hoisted you over his shoulder—damn, he was in shape—and approached. As much as you tried to break free, you couldn’t. Then Mark positioned you, and Jeno put one his hands on your hip. Something much thicker than those fingers pressed against your ass. You let out a muffled attempt at a “no” as you were pulled down.

He was big.

You yowled, planted your feet on the floor and tried to stand; only for Jeno’s arms to loop around your waist and pull you back down.

”Goddamn… Relax your stiff little body, you bitch… My cock won’t fit if you are so tight.” Jeno grunted into your ear and then moved his hand to your chin, taking out the gag. His thumb slipped inside your mouth, pressing at the back of your throat.

Somewhere in the back of your head as you were lifted up and down, you were thankful for that—hopefully he wouldn’t last long.

You didn’t think you could last if he didn’t finish right quick.

“Tell me how good I’m fucking your greedy little ass.” Jeno growled into your ear, a hand flicking down to rub your clit.

Your legs were struggling to stay wrapped around his, and you whimpered against his neck. Getting no response, his hand that was rubbing your clit now slapped you across the face, and his thrusts slowed yet got harder as he slapped you once more.

“What the fuck did I say? Tell me how good I’m fucking your ass!” He yelled, grabbing you by the chin to look up at him.

Your eyes stung with hot tears from the pleasure, already feeling the all too familiar knot in your stomach forming. “Please! It feels so good! M’want more!” You said through gritted teeth, whining in pleasure as he slapped you across the face once more.

“You dirty fucking whore, giving you my cock and you still want more, hmm?” Jeno knew you were close, he could tell from the way you tightened around him and from your breathing pattern. Your eyes flicked over to Mark, who now was walking over to you.

“Oh? Seems like our little whore’s enjoying this better than I thought.” He said, “I had a feeling you had the makings of a true anal slut here.”

You heard a loud ‘smack’ followed by a sharp stinging sensation exploding all over your pussy as you were  suddenly spanked. Causing it to clench around nothing.

“Shit. You were right man, she’s so fucking tight. She really might be an anal slut by the end of this.” Jeno grunted, laughing. His hips never stopped moving.

“Really now,” Mark chuckled as he cupped your chin, “Anything you want to say to that, baby?” 

“Th-That’s not-” You knew you were full of shit, but your pride didn’t want to admit to something embarrassing like that. With a gasp, you found yourself in a headlock. Your back was pressed against Jeno’s front, his forearm applied pressure on your windpipe.

“Now, now, it’s not good to lie like that.” He licked your face, gnawing at your earlobe. “Bad girls like you should be punished.” 

“I-I’m… N-Not a bad…” You tried to deny it, but the harsh grip around your neck made it hard to get the words out. Yet in some ways, you could only think about how good this was feeling. Causing your pussy to quiver and your ass coiling around.

Mark smirked with an amused brow, “I’m sorry, don’t think we caught that.’

“I-I’m…” 

The man leaned in closer, “Hm?” 

“I’m… bad… girl..” You uttered. 

They glanced at each other and grinned while Jeno grabbed and groped at your breasts, giving your chest a nice fondle. 

“Speak up slut,” he twisted a nipple causing you to moan, “So that we could hear you.” 

You looked up, tears started falling down your face. “I’m… a bad… girl…”

“That’s our girl,” The two cheered, laughing loudly at how cock-drunken you were. “Glad to see you’re finally realizing your true calling.” One of them said. 

“With that said, I think it’s high time I gave you a little reward.” An evil smirk curled Mark’s lips. You wriggled, trying to get off as he traced his fingers against your pussy. “Just as a curiosity, have you ever taken two cocks before?”

“No,” you said, out of breath.

“Yeah, thought so.” He grabbed onto your hips lining his cock up to your cunt, while Jeno leaned you back a little.  

Fuck. Mark smirked and watched as your face twisted into something horrified. 

“Look at that, your old man is coming to join in. You gonna behave for him? Hmm, princess?”

With those words leaving Jeno’s mouth, it sent you over the edge completely, nearly screaming as you came right when Mark shoved his cock in your pussy. He hissed with how tightly you were clenching around him. Your back arched high, and Jeno continued to pound into your ass. You choked and gasped for air, the pleasure became too much for you to handle.

“P-please… S-stop!” you stuttered pathetically, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to push Mark away with your legs. 

You were stuffed past the point you thought you would burst. They started out uncoordinated, being bounced up and down the big guy’s cock while the other slammed in awkwardly. But they soon found a rhythm, each withdrawing at the same time, and slamming you down on their cocks tougher. Over and over.

It was overwhelming.

“Look at your slutty fucking stepdaughter, Mark. Such a little whore,” Jeno laughed, continuing to abuse your ass with his cock.

Mark smirked as he flicked your nipple, “Does your daddy’s cock feel good inside you, princess?” then gave it a painful twist. “Wanna be a little cumslut?”

You just moaned in response, unable to form coherent words.

“I think,” Jeno reached up and pinched at your other nipple, “your daddy asked you a question.”

“Yes! Yes, I wanna be your little cumslut, please.”

Everything happening all at once was making you lose your breath. You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach. Both of the cocks hitting that sweet spot inside you. Before you even had time to react, you saw white. Your whole body lunged forward as you came around both of their cocks again, soaking them. Words couldn’t even leave your open mouth, your brain not working properly.

“Jesus Christ,” a voice said, and you couldn’t register whose. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah,” another one came. “She squirted with two cocks fucking her. Such a dirty slut, aren't you?” Several slaps landed onto your face. You assumed it’s Mark because of his position.

You couldn’t think straight anymore, body shaking pathetically under him.

“T-too… much,” you whimpered through gritted teeth, your knees moving to try and push Jeno away.

Mark roughly forced his cock back in your pussy, his own orgasm so close. With sporadic quick thrusts, Jeno bottomed out inside your ass, and you could feel it all, warm and coating every inch of your walls. You were screaming, and he held his cock inside you for a few moments before slowly pulling out of you, grunting and panting as he regained himself. 

Mark’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard and grunting as you clawed at his hands. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, and you’re gonna take it all, right princess? Gonna be stuffed full of our cum?” He growled into your ear, before straightening again.

You couldn’t think straight anymore, sobs and moans escaping your lips as he fucked your sensitive cunt. Within seconds, Mark thrusted one last time into you before you felt his thick load spurting inside of you. He let out an animalistic growl as he came, grinding his hips slowly against you.

When he finished, he paused a while, nipping at your neck. Then he pulled out, and you were shoved off Jeno, sent sprawling into your stepfather. He gently laid you on your side. You laid there, face pressed against the filthy floor as clothes rustled.

“Again, thank you for calling me in on this, fuckface.” Mark said. The hell? He knew the fucking rent-a-cop.

“No worries. I didn’t believe her when she dropped your name—the picture you showed didn't quite match up.”

Picture? You forced yourself to look at the two, both half-dressed.

Mark had opened his wallet. “It is a few years old. She started dying her hair shortly after it was taken. Started wearing contacts, too.”

“What?”

“Ah, baby. Yes, me and Jeno go fairly far back.” Mark said, nodding. “I have a lot of business interests, and that means a lot of varied social circles.”

“So… about her…” Jeno said, trailing off.

Mark shrugged, contemplating the situation. "I'll leave her in your hands while I head home to fetch a change of clothes for her. Once that's done, we can make a few calls to ensure the lesson continues."

A whimper escaped your lips, particularly as Mark referred to leaving you in Jeno's "care." As if on cue, he dumped a bag containing chains and clamps onto the desk, casting a wicked grin in your direction. You instinctively tried to edge away, but Mark leaned in closely, lowering himself to one knee.

"Luckily for you, summer vacation has just begun, so you won't miss any school while you're grounded," he stated firmly, his tone holding an unusual warmth. You shook your head, refusing to accept what was unfolding before you.

"Baby," he continued, "it's crucial for you to learn that actions come with consequences. However, you're a smart girl, and with proper guidance, I'm confident we can improve your behavior."

[chastiefoul]

regret pt. 2 | alhaitham

a/n: soooooooooo, this was a bit overdue.. hahaha... i apologize for the delay but it's here now!! short disclaimer though, if you expect a make up and lovey dovey scene on this one it's not happening sadly. this end up being more of a character study of the scribe somehow? like i was really going in there with his pov, but of course this esentially is the continuation of the part one so i hope you all enjoyed and sorry for being so late!!!! (more of a/n at the end!)

3k words!!! (wasn't kidding when i said i really went in there)

summary:

alhaitham's own emotion and how he dealt with it proved to be an obstacle for himself. how deep does his regret truly runs?

read part one here!

-

 alhaitham didn’t know before that the world could be this... quiet.

no, it’s more accurate to say that he couldn’t appreciate silence as he used to. there are pieces of you remaining across his day. at his office, on his way to lunch, the tavern, and even when he closed his eyes, persistently, you’re there. however those weren’t real, not anymore, since he himself was the one who had driven you away rather horribly.

and he shouldn’t regret it, he really shouldn’t. but he did.

he let out a sigh yet again, resting his eyes as he leaned back on his chair.

alhaitham hated vexatious things, especially stuff that had nothing to do with him. you, used to fell into this category. someone he shouldn’t bother with or care about, but you kept slithering in breaking what he thought was a solid wall. and uncharacteristically, he kept letting you. perhaps at a life-threatening moment where he had to tell the truth to live, he could consider admitting that he did not hate the way you smiled while you greeted him, or the way your eyebrow crinkled slightly with worry when you saw the piled up paper he had to tend on certain days. and even your lovable little pout when he told you he had skipped his meals. and it’s only now he realized that his useless pride wasn’t something worth holding onto if in exchange he would be missing all of these.

these bothersome yet endearing memories that refused to get out of his head. that he refused to forget.

and to think your last memory of him was him being so heartless—wait, come to think of it. was he ever nice towards you? was there ever a time where he didn’t treat you so cold?

alhaitham was stunned when he couldn’t find a positive response to both question. he felt like his heart was being clenched tightly. he had no choice but to go back to work, forced to stop his train of thoughts before he was overwhelmed.

it all had become so troublesome. too troublesome.

❀

alhaitham also had no idea how small the chance was of running into you, even though you both work at the same place. it’s news to him that if you hadn’t come to him all the time, you wouldn’t even be meeting at all.

the regret he felt just keep piling up.

now alhaitham found himself out from his office more often; in the library, or just walking around randon hallways to take a breather, these were all solely for the purpose that perhaps he would run into you. even just a glance for the briefest second, he thought he would be happy with just that. however it proved to be difficult since he hasn’t seen even a single strand of your hair for the past week.

and that’s when it happened, he saw a familiar figure walking towards him, it was like a slow-motion, something that he had been waiting to  happen. alhaitham’s inside was all thundering, he knew he’s been missing you, but he didn’t know it was this bad.

but all of that nerves and excitement died down as quick as it came, as you walked past him without sparing even a single glance. turns out you were just rushing to get to the hall behind him. the silver-haired man could only stand there, witnessing your back until it disappeared at the very last second at a turn. his stomach churned in the worst way possible.

that nonchalant, ignorance, reminded him of nothing but himself. he now realized that he’s way past a stage where a single apology would fix everything he’s done.

❀

alhaitham went home with a heavy feeling inside of his chest. it’s been that way for too many days now.

he thought pushing you out of his life was the hill he was going to die on, but he played himself. he grew accustomed to a world with you now he thought going back to his old routine was something he wanted. turns out far from it.

he needed you.

he arrived, and as alhaitham opened the door, he never expected the sudden hit on his right jaw, making him staggered as his back touched the door. “you deserved that one, and i think you know that,” kaveh said. alhaitham couldn’t even react; ah, (y/n) has told him all about it, then.

alhaitham who had no energy left from the lack of sleep and meals held his jaw carefully, sliding down the wall and sat on the floor. he wasn’t in any way hurt badly, since obviously he had a stronger physique than the blond, but the other part inside of his chest ached. as kaveh said, he deserved that one. although it’s a bit infuriating that the architect was the one who did that, alhaitham also knew that you’d never be able to do that to him. not that your strength was the problem, it’s just that you’re so very kind, even to people that don’t deserve it.

then if what it took to see you smile at him again was a punch to the face, he’d put his as a target gladly.

alhaitham was in a daze, couldn’t even bring himself to retort the harsh welcome, he’s just quiet. which was very unusual.

“what should i do?” he finally mumbled. “what?” kaveh widened his eyes at the response. “what can i do.. to fix this?” that was very surprising coming from the prideful man, kaveh had doubts that the man in front of him was really his room mate. but kaveh only sighed, and lent out his hand. “get up, let’s talk.”

after the scribe finished putting an ointment to the bruise, they both sat on the dining table. there was no noise for a while, until alhaitham decided to break that. “how is (y/n)?” he treaded carefully. “good actually, now that they’re free from a weight that’s dragging them down.” kaveh spat, the grey-haired man made a blank look. “-is what i liked to say. however they’re not doing very well.” his expression turned into something of a deep concern for a friend. “how so?” alhaitham’s voice too, spiked with worries. something that kaveh wasn’t really familiar with that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “you’re really a funny guy. now you’re worried? after treating them like that?” kaveh said, astonished by the audacity of his roommate.

“i’m aware that all of this is my fault.” alhaitham clenched his fist tightly, he didn’t need anyone to remind him that he was at fault, he never allowed himself to forget that. “i mean, how could you alhaitham?!” just thinking about it made kaveh blood boiled once more. you who had treated everyone so kind, especially alhaitham since he knew you had feelings for the scribe, and for him to trample on all of that, it was all just too much, too miserable. kaveh wasn’t stopping there. “to think they were just offering assistance too. if you don’t want help, then say no, don’t lash out like a goddamn child!”  the blond was beyond worked up, you were such an important friend to him. “we know dealing with emotions isn’t your forte, but that was low, alhaitham. even for you.” kaveh finally finished his piece. sometimes the architect wondered with how alhaitham talked and how blunt he was, a hit to the face should’ve been something he’s used to getting—or at least the attempt to, since we all knew he wasn’t a weak guy.

alhaitham could only agree, it was all true what kaveh has said. “i know! i know i messed up really badly, that’s why allow me to be shameless and ask for your help. i really regret it,” the sword-wielder meekly said. kaveh relented slightly at the sincere words he spouted once in a blue moon. he relaxed back into the chair, realizing that he needed his head to be in the right place to get through this conversation. silence loomed over them once more.

“why were you so worked up everytime you talked to them anyway?” kaveh asked, his tone solemn. alhaitham seemed to be pondering for a moment, “i... don’t know,” he said slowly, his eyebrow twitched slighly in frustration, once again he was forced to remember how much of a jerk he was to you sometimes. kaveh too, wails with frustration at the response.

he’s hopeless, utterly hopeless!

however the scholar did not stop there, “i was always alone as you know, and i was fine with that. but ever since (y/n) came into my life, i realized that i started to look forward on days i would meet them, i started to find their company very comfortable and that unsettled me.” he finally got to say the truth out loud. “and that fear what was made me so adamant to reject it. i hated the idea that single person could turn my whole life upside down easily like that.”

alhaitham thought he was protecting himself, turns out that that did nothing except hurting you in the process. before lashing out on you, he’s been keen on perusing books he normally avoid, he’d spend his time reading what he thought was unusual titles, in hope that one of them could teach him about the overwhelming sensation he’s been experiencing ever since meeting you. yet none of them succeed. he was having a hard time understanding things that didn’t have reasoning behind it, that didn’t have clear method or formula that provides a precise and accurate solution. he realized he was at a place he wasn’t familiar with, a place where the line of logic is blurred.

how the hell was he supposed to understand it?

“alhaitham, just answer me this. do you like (y/n)?” kaveh asked. alhaitham was stunned for a moment, but surprisingly the answer came easy, but he did not want the blond the hear it for the first time. he wanted you to hear it, no, he needed you to hear it. that he liked you, so so much that literally, literally, he did not know what to do with himself. and that’s when a gear turned on the back of his mind. you needed to hear it. and alhaitham was going to make sure you hear it.

❀

just your luck. it’s just your luck out of all the signature of the people in akademiya, the higher-up told you that you needed alhaitham’s for your project.

just. your. luck.

you knocked on his office, that terrible day flashes on your mind for a second, but you quickly pushed that thought. it’s all gonna be okay, you’re here for pure business, exactly like the way he liked it.

“come in,” a voice replied at the knock. you took a deep breath and went in.

you could see alhaitham’s face was startled for a moment; a brief slip up for the usually emotionless man. but you couldn’t careless, as you set the document on his desk rather urgently. “i need your signature, no need to read through the document as it’s already pre-approved and just needed your agreement for it to proceed.”

alhaitham was quiet as he stalled, wishing to stare at you for that few additional seconds. you had bags under your eye—alhaitham almost reached his hand out to touch over them but he stopped himself. he should know his place.

as soon as the pen left the paper, you snatched it from his desk, and went to make your way out from the hellhole. alhaitham’s shoulder slumped, he knew you’re still mad at him, but to think you’re that bothered just to be in the same room as him. how was he supposed to get you to talk to him?

❀

“good morning, (y/n),”

that’s when it happened. alhaitham on your office with a cup of coffee on his hand first thing in the morning. your jaw dropped slightly, you couldn’t believe your eyes. he put the coffee on your desk. he didn’t react strongly at the lack of response as he didn’t expect you to welcome him. "what are you doing?” you asked, your tone was cold.

“just.. visiting you and thought that maybe you’d like coffee,” he said, even he wasn’t certain of his own words. wasn’t this the same man who had tear you apart just a week ago just because you cared for him? now he wanted to talk you pretending all of that crap didn’t happen?

you laughed loudly, yet it sounded sad. “you must think i’m a joke, alhaitham,” you stated, throwing away the coffee in front of you to the trash bin next to you. the scholar in front of you now looked a little timid, it’s almost pitiful. “no- of course not!” he frantically retorted, “then i’ll ask once again, what are you doing here?” you crossed your arm.

“i wanted to apologize for my actions,” he firmly said, his expression sincere.

oh, is this what’s it all about? it’s regret. something you don’t need, what you need is for him to realize that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. nothing.

he looked restless as he await for your response, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “why are you so nervous about, it’s not like you’re saying sorry to someone close to you or anything like that. anyways, apology accepted. anything else?”

at the stinging words his heart sunk, though his eyes widened at your response, “really?” that easy?

“yeah, now don’t come to this playground anymore, unless it’s strictly for business. good day,” you said, sitting back down getting back to your work. this is all new to alhaitham; feeling of wanting to jump out of the window. your harsh words, how easy it was for you to ignore you in a blink of an eye. and to think he did the same thing to you. no no, he did worse.

the difference is that your actions were justified, considering how much of an asshole he’s been to you. but him on the other hand, treated you just because he was a coward, not having the courage to face his own emotions.

alhaitham never thought he’d be envious of that specific trait of yours but right there as he stood in front of you, he wished that he understood all emotions in this world.

“please, please give me a chance to-“

“alhaitham, for someone as intelligent as you, there’s no way you didn’t understand what ‘strictly for business’ means, right?” you shot him down swiftly.

“just once. please. i won’t ask for anything anymore.” his voice was quiet, laced with utter desperation, that your conscience couldn’t help but respond to it. you were mad, but let’s not stoop to his level. you out of all people, was familiar with pain of being ignored by someone who you wanted to talk the most.

“you have one minute.” you finally relented.

“(y/n). i couldn’t be so shameless and ask you to forgive me, and while this may sound like a really bad excuse, i just wanted you to know that i didn’t mean any single word i said that time. as laughable as it was, i never wished for you to be hurt, especially on words that shouldn’t have meaning, words that i made up as a cowardly defense, words that had zero truth in them. i-i was scared that you changed my world so quickly that my initial reaction was to reject it, even though every time i met you i had nothing but pleasant warmth brimming in my chest. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry that you were hurt because of me.” it was all over the place, it may have missed a lot of points he had made on his head, but it was genuine. at this point with just this apology, alhaitham won’t be greedy and hoped his was accepted, he just wished that the wound on your heart that he had tore with his words would ease even just a little. because he truly, truly regret it.

you weren’t sure what to say, your eyes stopped at a window in the room.

“i.. don’t know what to say, alhaitham. all of this didn’t make the heartbreak i felt that day any less painful,” you mumbled, you could still remember it very vividly. “of course, that wasn’t my intention! i was stupid. i didn’t come here expecting you to welcome me with open arms, i just—very selfishly, realized now that i need you in my life, and i’m going to work very hard so you can at least tolerate that idea as well.” he was visibly stressed, his face filled with guilt. something you never thought he was capable of.

as much as you wanted to just push him away, you couldn’t ignore the emotional struggle he’s been having. you had no idea. though the reason excused nothing, you now had a better understanding of the man who’s standing right in front of you.

you sighed. “things are going to be very different, alhaitham. i sincerely hope you know that i’ll never come to you first again for anything ever. i never wanted to experience something like that again.” you said, setting out clear boundaries that what had happened in the past, was not going to happen for a second time. you’re going to make him work for it.

“i wouldn’t have it any other way. thank you so much (y/n), thank you,” alhaitham said, currently still feeling guilty because he knew the only reason he was getting a second chance was because your boundless kindness. he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he now was going to do everything in his power to accept him back into your life. which was something he did not expect to be easy, but he prefer it this way. he's beyond grateful that you had selflessly given him another chance to fight for you, and he's gonna fight like hell.

now alhaitham had hope. something he doesn’t really say out loud due to its nature being a bit childish, however at that time, he allowed himself to imagine a future with you, and how truly strange it was that the mere image of you being with him could make his stomach fluttered with pure joy.

alhaitham now understood very well that rationality did not work well with love.

and he’s okay with that.

-

more a/n: i love alhaitham but i wanna see him get punched once for the things he said hahaha..... that aside thank you all so so so so much for the interest on this fic that so many of you guys requested a part 2 :') i wanna say i had a blast writing this one. alhaitham is such an interesting character, especially regarding his relationship with emotions. once again thank you much and i'll be back with fluff soon so look out for that!!!

TAGLIST

@sunsethw4 @michikocoi @sassy-cat-in-town @potatoesenpaii @mis-disaster @bearbae4 @anemohusbando @aquamarine001 @aleahsyyyy @atsukawolfcat @xiao-bedo @r0ttenhearts @milkypompon @lacy-lady @redactedhimbo @vvyeislazzy @pufferfishgolfball @ittosoneandoniwife @levisbebe @silverninja48 @imkaaayy @saeyunn @gookimswife @kisum9 @akinaii @itsmebbyxm @esmegalathynius9 @spicycloudsalad @leche-de-coconut @sunflower124007 @mikismusings @xiamuyi @dancing-hillary @bewhyy @yourdailymemedelivery @lizzhearthz @bubblyjoonjoon @aloveablechaos @mechanicalbeat1 @ailinsano

@veepeepoo @foreshadxw @makiaaa @renjunniex @yyueliang @iruiji @orginiallyann @irisxiel @peskywaffleiron @warrior-of-justice @roguexmoriartea @em0zombie @susvale @vynbin @alisonyus @delightfuldragoncollection @eurooki @skyeblue1737

also should i make a general tag list??????

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[wonusite]

Hate to Love You (Not Really)

❝ The only thing worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone is spending it with someone you hate. ❞

PAIRING: lee seokmin x female reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, coworkers au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: coworker!seokmin, one sided enemies to lovers, pining, drinking, being forced to share a room, only one bed trope, seokmin is a HUGE simp, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, cockwarming, pussy drunk!seokmin, cock drunk!reader

A/N: this is for the lovely @drunk-on-dk as part of @svthub’s cupid for you collab! i really hope you like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“We only have one room available.”

Those six words are the worst you’ve heard all day. If it weren’t for the heavy snow falling outside, you would immediately grab your things to try to find any other accommodation for the night. Not that you would have any luck since every other decent hotel you’ve been to is already full.

Seokmin glances over at you, nearly wincing at your dissatisfied expression. He clears his throat and fakes a smile as he looks back at the desk clerk. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”

The walk to your suite is silent and tense. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to stay in a luxury hotel, but being forced to share a room with your insufferable coworker isn’t how you pictured that happening. At least Seokmin isn’t stupid enough to crack one of his unfunny jokes as you two get inside the suite.

As if things weren’t already miserable, you find out that there’s only one large bed and a nice but uncomfortable looking couch. You let out a long, tired sigh. Just your luck. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll take the couch.” Seokmin’s voice is soft. “I don’t mind.”

You whip your head to look at him in surprise. His gaze seems shy, but he maintains eye contact. For some reason, you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and how it’s slowly increasing. You clear your throat nervously and give him a single nod.

“Cool. Thanks.”

Silence falls over you two again. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward. Mostly on your part because you hadn’t expected Seokmin to act so kindly towards you. After spending the entire day disagreeing about which manufacturer would be the best fit to produce the new wine bottles for the company, you thought he’d keep up his pettiness up to this point.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Ideally, you’d like to shower and order room service, but you can’t very well do it comfortably when you’re sharing a room with your coworker who you also happen to dislike a lot.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin’s voice is hesitant, as he inches toward you. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so nervous. For some sick reason, you feel endeared by the sight.

“Did you want to get dinner? I saw they’re having a special wine tasting event since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It would be so easy to turn him down, not to mention satisfying. But he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t let yourself be the one to crush the hope swimming in his eyes. And you are pretty hungry since you didn’t get to have lunch. Also, having a glass of wine (or several) sounds way too appealing to turn down.

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what demon has possessed you, but it’s one that’s messing with your mind because there’s no way you’re finding your mortal enemy hot right now. Objectively, you know Seokmin is good looking. It’s undeniable, however, you’ve never been able to perceive him as attractive because of how much you dislike him.

Although, right now, in his nice dress shirt that hugs his broad chest just right, you can’t think of him as the same guy who constantly tries to undermine you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Seokmin says as you two sit down at the table. “I should’ve said something sooner, but when I saw you my brain just short-circuited.”

It’s true. When you stepped out of the bathroom in a slip dress that fit you just right, Seokmin just about died. He knew he must’ve looked like a complete fool just gawking at you without saying anything, but it was just a natural reaction.

Meanwhile, you have to force your expression to stay neutral as the waiter brings out the first wine you two are meant to taste. You’re not sure why Seokmin is suddenly acting so out of character, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling flattered and shy about his behavior.

“Thank you.” The words come out neutral (luckily for you). “You look good too.”

When he smiles at you brightly, you wonder if this is what all the other women in the office feel at the pretty sight. Seokmin has an infectious smile that’s too bright not to reciprocate. You hide most of it through a large gulp of wine, the bittersweet taste quickly marring your expression into one of neutrality again.

“Like it?” There’s a teasing lilt to the question.

You hum against the rim of the crystal glass. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

It’s hard to control your expression when Seokmin listens to you. He never does, and the fact that he did it so easily is jarring. Also, it doesn’t help that he looks damn good while doing so.

Seokmin lets out a noise of approval. He licks his lips and maintains eye contact with you. “Sweet.”

The smirk he directs at you when you awkwardly cough is infuriatingly attractive. It feels like you’re potentially reading too much into his actions, and before you can really begin to question anything, the next bottle of wine is brought out for you to taste.

You attempt to distract yourself with the wine, but you can feel Seokmin’s eyes on you. There’s something heated about his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him. Still, you can’t bring yourself to outright ask even though you can feel the wine beginning to give you a nice little buzz.

“You must like this one.” Seokmin says, pretty smile still in place.

He says it because you gulped down what was in your glass. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that you feel the need to finish the wine quickly so you can silence all these inappropriate thoughts you’re having.

“You must not.” Comes your rebuttal when you see that he’s barely taken a sip.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. You can see him thinking, almost like he’s contemplating on how to answer you. Finally, he flashes another one of his annoyingly cute smiles at you. “It’s not bad, but seeing you like it so much is better than the taste.”

“What’s your problem?” You demand abruptly, not caring that the waiters who brought out your food are looking like they just walked into the crossfire.

That heart-stopping smile drops off his face, and his expression falls into the familiar cold one you’re used to receiving. Finally, the uncomfortable knot in your chest comes undone, but it’s replaced by a different discomfort.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You scoff, annoyed that he’s not willing to acknowledge his odd behavior. “Yes, you do. Why are you acting like you don’t hate me all of a sudden?”

His gaze becomes hard, but you swear you see a tinge of sadness somewhere in that cold look. “I don’t hate you.”

You can’t understand why he’s lying, and so blatantly at that. It’s obvious that he’s hated you since you inadvertently picked holes in his first major presentation. He’s been out to get you ever since, and you’re not sure why he’s trying to act like you don’t know exactly how he feels about you.

“Right.” You scoff incredulously. “You telling the entire office that you’re capable of doing this project without my help was out of fondness.”

A blush slowly crawls up Seokmin’s neck and spreads across his face. “That—!”

“Oh, and I guess you did me a favor by telling our boss that ‘no woman should spend Valentine’s Day working!’”

Seokmin feels himself start to panic because he had said that, but it’s really not what you think. And he has to clear that up. Like now.

“Will you please just let me explain?”

You’re thrown off because the wine is slowly easing your nerves and because Seokmin looks like a kicked puppy. With a quiet huff, you nod stiffly, not wanting to make a scene even though some of the people at the surrounding tables are already looking at you funny.

“I just– I didn’t want you to have to spend today with me.”

Everything just seems to stop. Seokmin looks so remorseful and like he’s about to cry that you can’t think of his explanation as anything other than the truth. But then there’s the big question looming on your mind: Why would someone who hates you try to do something so kind for you? Unfortunately, you’re so thrown off that you can’t form a coherent response.

“You– What?”

Seokmin lets out a forced laugh. Your dumbfounded expression is adorable and makes him think that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed up.

“Last month, I overheard you telling Josh that you had big plans today. When we were put on the project together and found out we had to work today, I tried everything so you wouldn’t be forced to spend the day with me. I’m an idiot for not realizing how you would feel about the things I said and I’m sorry.”

If only this sweet, silly man knew the big plans you mentioned involved five of your favorite romcoms and a bottle of wine. You can’t fully process the onslaught of emotions hitting you with full force, and you wish you had the capacity to answer him intelligently.

“But… why? Why would you do that for me?”

Seokmin can feel the heat coming from his face, but he soldiers on with what he hopes is anything but an embarrassed expression. “Like I said. I don’t hate you.”

You just blink at him, and he has to laugh.

“It’s true. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, he signals over a worker you hadn’t noticed before. The lovely woman had been handing out single pink roses, and now she was giving Seokmin the remaining ones after he slipped her several bills. You gape at him as he boldly hands them to you with that dumb, endearing smile.

“For you.” He nudges them toward you. “I know you would’ve preferred red or white roses, but I’ll get them for you some other time.”

Now his words are making your brain short circuit because what the fuck? How could he know your preferences and what did he mean that he would get you your favorite flowers next time?

All your rationality has gone out the window, and so have your inhibitions. It’s why you don’t care to cut the dinner short while telling Seokmin to follow you upstairs. He’s so obedient that you eat it all up. That and his needy kisses are too addicting for you to think about how wrong you’d been this entire time.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Seokmin wonders from between your thighs.

His entire body burns with desire when you give him a heated look as you slowly roll your hips, grinding your soaking cunt down on his awaiting mouth. You do it with a neediness that has his eyes rolling and his cock twitching. Seokmin has never looked hotter to you than he does with your arousal covering his mouth and chin. You’re so turned on that your juices are slowly dripping down into a mess on the sheets bellow you.

“Amazing.” You breathe out through a whine as Seokmin dives back in, flicking his tongue on your throbbing clit before fucking it into your needy hole.

His cock is leaking and twitching as he drinks up every last bit of your arousal. Seokmin moans and groans into your cunt as you eagerly meet every movement of his tongue with an enthusiastic grind of your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna make you come.”

You clench around his tongue at hearing the earnest words. It makes you arch into him more, loving how his tongue is splitting though your folds and slurping up all your arousal eagerly. He drags his wet muscle over your clit before sucking and rolling it like he would do to an addicting candy.

He’s so into eating you out, so fucked out by your taste alone that you can’t stop your quickly approaching orgasm. Seokmin’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head, moaning and whimpering about how you taste like absolute heaven. There’s even a moment where he lets it slip about how long he’s longed to have a taste of you, and that just does it for you.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you two moan in pleasure together. Seokmin’s cock throbs wildly at the sweet taste of your cream. He licks every inch of your pretty pussy, not wanting to waste even a single drop of what you’re giving him.

“God.” You breathe out, legs trembling around his head. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Expectedly, Seokmin does exactly as you want. You don’t care that you might need some time to adjust to his cock’s impressive size, you just need him.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, angel.” Seokmin hums against your jaw as his fat tip teases your entrance. “All needy and wet, just for me.”

“Please.” You whine into his cheek as he laces your hands together. “Want you so bad, baby.”

Your moans are loud and downright pornographic when Seokmin finally eases his throbbing cock into your cunt. You’re so warm and wet and tight that he already feels addicted. He could come just from bottoming out, but he won’t. Not before he feels you come on his cock.

You arch your back, mouth dropped open in pleasure. “Fuck me!”

And he does, nice and deep. Your legs hook around Seokmin’s slim waist to push him in deeper. His cock is ramming against a spot no one else came close to touching, and you’re sm quickly starting to lose yourself to the pleasure consuming you. His big cock smoothes along your velvety walls with every rough snap of his hips, and you don’t even try to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You whimper into Seokmin’s mouth when he turn to plant a messy kiss to your lips.

Your eyes roll back as his tongue forces it’s way into your mouth. His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently, the tender action only spurring you on as you try to meet the wet connection of his hips with needy grinds of your own.

Seokmin’s cock throbs inside you, seeming to swell at your words. He reluctantly pulls way from your lips, hips not stopping for a second. Every thrusts feels like the air is lowly being forced out of your lungs. But you love every second. All you can do is moan out his name with ravenous desire as he fucks his cock into you.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight.” Seokmin groans as his free hand trails down to your swollen nub. It’s so cute to hear you moan out for him as he starts to rub gentle yet fast circles into your clit. “Feels so good around me. Sh-Shit, Y/N. Never wanna stop fucking you. Want to be inside this pretty pussy all the time!”

You’re so turned on by his need for you and your pussy that you can feel yourself on the verge of coming. Especially with the way his fingers twist around your messy clit. Your inside are fluttering as his leaking tip rams into your soft spot over and over again.

“G-Gonna come!” You cry out and you squeeze the hand that is still wrapped around yours.

You focus on his rough thrusts and how his hips dig into yours as his big cock stretches your little pussy open to fit him inside. The restless flicks to your puffy nub push you over the edge as Seokmin urges you to come for him. He licks and sucks on your pulse point just to drive you more insane than you already feel.

“Seokmin!”

Your orgasm tips through you intensely as you crema all over his aching cock. Seokmin curls his body over yours, wrapping his brawny arm around you back to press himself against you. Now you’re stuck in his strong yet gentle embrace, bodies practically molded into one as he continues to split you open.

His thrusts become sloppy as he keeps on fanning the flames of your orgasm. “Need to fill you up, angel. Want to see your pretty pussy dripping with my cum.”

“Come inside me!” You beg, eyes rolling back. “Stuff me full!”

Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, greedily swallowing your moans as he empties himself inside your hot cunt. His entire body shudders in pleasure as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. Take it all. It’s just yours, angel.”

You’re slowly coming down from you high when you feel Seokmin’s lip brush against your ear. “I’m not done yet.”

That’s when you find out he’s just as insatiable as you are.

“Fuck.” Seokmin moans against your neck as his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier.

He’s so drunk on the feeling of your hot cunt that he feels any coherent thoughts start to get hazy. “So fucking pretty. Always so fucking pretty.”

Seokmin pulls you in for another kiss, hips still grinding into yours with a need that turns you on beyond belief. You’ve already came on his cock two more times, and he’s mad with clear that he won’t stop until he stuffs your pussy one more time. Which he does. Thick ropes of his cum spill into you, adding to the mess on his heavy balls and the sheets bellow you.

His next kiss is gentle yet passionate. Seokmin hums into your mouth, still making no move to pull out. His cock acts as a plug for all his cum, and when you shift he groans against your lips.

“Let me stay inside you, baby.” He pleads with shining eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” You sigh as he rolls you over so your weight is on top of him now.

And it’s only when your on the cusp of sleep that you realize Seokmin still hasn’t let go of your hand.

[daycourtofficial]

Forever is the sweetest con

Cassian x reader, Azriel x reader

Summary: based on this request - the war with Hybern claimed the life of your husband. Reeling with grief, you discover that you’re pregnant. His brother and your friend, Azriel, begins spending more and more time with you, finding solace in each other amidst your shared grief.

Author’s note: sadness, sadness, sadness, this one took me ages to write bc it’s so fucking sad 😭 I’m not super happy with this bc I was mostly trying to meet the deadline so this might feel disjointed bc I had to kinda skip around a lot. Also I didn’t tag this as Cassian x reader in tags bc it felt too painful to do that

Word count: 3k

Warnings: character death, unexpected pregnancy, honestly just sadness

“I’m Cassian.”

A large, handsome male greeted you as you were shelving some new books away. His large outstretched hand reached towards you, waiting in the air for a moment as you set the stack of books in your arms down. Your hand gets lost in the warmth of his, telling him your own name.

He smiles at it, repeating it, testing it on his tongue.

For days, that is the only memory playing in your head. It is what you think of as you lay in your shared bed, his scent still lingering. It is what you think when Feyre picks you up, and her and Mor place you in a bathtub as they clean you. It is what you think of as you stare at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on you.

It is what you think of as you stand between Rhysand and Azriel at Cassian’s memorial. It is what you think of as they lower the casket into the ground, the citizens of Velaris standing around to pay their respects.

You don’t notice the hundreds of people who come to offer you a silent nod, a gentle prayer over you, their voices carrying gentle choruses of “he was so brave” and “you should be proud”.

You’re too numb for any of this. You’re too numb to recognize the hand Azriel places on your back, or the hand Feyre clasps into your own, squeezing tightly.

All you can think about is how his hand felt in your own the first time you held it - warm, gentle, comforting. And how it felt the last time you held it - cold, lifeless, gone.

Being a war hero came with a cost.

Only Cassian didn’t have to pay it - those he left behind did.

-

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Cassian died. You’re not sure if the people of Velaris still mourned him, or were simply wearing the traditional colors of their court.

You sat in one of Cassian’s old tunics, piles of clothes scattered on the floor around you. Your back was to the wall, its cool surface warming with your heat.

You hear movement in the house, but you don’t have the energy or ability to care who’s here.

Someone knocks gently before coming into the room, Azriel’s large frame coming through the door to your chambers. He sees the slightly ajar closet door, and shimmies his way in, sitting next to you amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.

He notes that they all seemed to have been pulled right off their hangers, in a fit of rage or desperation perhaps. Shades of black and red litter the floor, and the realization that it was all Cassian’s clothes causes him to take in a deep breath.

You two sit for a while, Azriel’s wings likely cramped in the small space. Mother knows Cassian complained if he spent more than five minutes in your closet.

Azriel just sits in silence, his shadows gently swirling the floor, searching through the piles.

For what, you’re not sure.

You finally speak, the words hard to form. You didn’t speak much these days - your voice a rare sound for your family’s ears.

“He doesn’t need them to be hung up anymore.”

Azriel sighs, shifting closer to you. He gauges you, looking for a reaction before moving a bit closer.

“He never needed them hung up. Before you he mostly just left his clothes strewn about the room. Drove Nuala and Cerridwen mad.”

You look at him, pulled from your trance of that black shirt Cassian wore when the two of you went on vacation in Adriada. The shirt that fit him so well the two of you did not see the beach at all for the five days you were there.

“They’d complain, saying every night he’d pull his clothes that they neatly hung up and the next morning they’d be strewn about his room,” he shrugs, still confused over how Cassian kept track of where everything was.

“Eventually Rhys told them to stop and to let Cassian do what he wants. No idea how he managed to stay neat and tidy with you.”

Your eyes meet his, and he reaches out a hand for you. It’s the first offer of help you’ve accepted in days. You keep his hand in yours for a long time, sitting amongst Cassian’s clothes.

-

You were sitting on the small balcony of your home, looking out at the expansive night sky above you. Elbows on knees, collapsing in on yourself.

Eyes red rimmed, tear tracks marking your face. You had never felt so helpless or as hopeless as you did now. Your eyes snag on a dark figure, soaring through the skies, its body getting closer and closer.

Azriel had taken to checking on you every three days now. Make sure you were eating, washing, and moving. Honestly if it weren’t for these biweekly check ins, you’re not sure how you would be faring.

The Illyrian descends next to you, a soft landing as he tucks his wings back in and sits next to you. You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the night a melody playing for just you two.

Velaris is dark, few fae lights scattered throughout the city aglow. You breathe deeply, taking in the smell of Azriel next to you. You should tell him, but you haven’t been able to tell anyone all week.

It was eating you up - you knew they’d be supportive, you knew they’d love you and help you in anyway they could. But it would still break their hearts just a bit more.

Your internal debate is ended by the overwhelming turn of your stomach, your lunch from earlier wanting to make a quick exit. You hurriedly get up, running towards your bathroom and throwing yourself on your toilet, narrowly reaching it in time.

Azriel ran after you, making quick work of grabbing your hair before you began your second wave of vomiting. The only sounds in the room are your retching and Azriel’s soothing tunes.

His other hand gently rubs your back as you feel as if you’re going to die. From embarassment or pain, you’re not sure. He waits for you to say what he already suspects, having noted a subtle shift in your scent when he arrived.

You wipe your mouth, not wanting to say the words aloud. The words that Madja had told you three days ago, the words that caused you to shut down until now.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, head leaning against the toilet seat. “All Cass wanted was to be a dad. Now I’m pregnant and he’s dead.”

A forced laugh comes from you.

“It’s not fair, Az.”

Your words hang in the air, and your friend responds by wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he cries softly into your hair.

The two of you lay there, the cool bathroom tile digging imprints into your skin as he holds you, tears streaming from both of you.

-

Several months along in your pregnancy, and Azriel has essentially moved in with you full time. He takes meticulous care of you and the babe - he goes to your appointments with Madja with you, he goes baby shopping with you, he even put together the crib in your room.

He was your late husband’s brother. He was stepping up, knowing that Cassian would want him to help you. And yet your dreams wouldn’t stop being so perverse.

For the past month, every night without fail you dreamt of Azriel. Every dream was different - some of places you’ve gone before, places you only know of because Azriel described them.

The dreams were weird and disorienting, but you left them there. They were dreams.

About how beautiful he was. About his hands, his wings, his shoulders, his thighs.

Every day you’d wake up full of shame at where your mind takes you against your will.

-

“Az,” you say, a serious look on your face. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks over to you, glasses perched on his nose. The knife in his hand clatters, landing on the cutting board, a piece of carrot tumbling to the floor as he moves to you quickly.

Your breathing becomes more shallow, and you hold your hands out, reaching for his. Once his fingers reach yours, you bring his hands to your bump.

Just as he’s about to ask what the problem is, he feels a soft thump against his scarred hand. He can’t control the soft laugh that comes from him, and he can’t help but cradle your bump just a little tighter.

He looks back up to you, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought something was wrong.”

You smile, “I know - that’s what makes it fun.”

-

Almost eight months had passed since Cassian’s death, and you were finally able to hear his name without breaking down. Azriel was the only one you would talk to about him, though.

It felt right to talk about Cassian to Azriel. It felt right to plunge yourself back into the memories of him - his boisterous laugh, his insistence on touching someone at all times, his presence in rooms.

It felt right, and the babe in your belly would kick frequently whenever Azriel spoke to you about Cassian, as if they knew who you were talking about.

It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Every night before bed you replayed the memories of the day, desperately trying to insert Cassian into Azriel’s spot in them.

He never fit perfectly into them, the edges of him not quite the right size.

-

This was too much.

You were an absolute fool to believe you could do this. To not only birth but to raise your dead husband’s babe. Who let you do this? Who thought this was a good idea?

“Hey.”

Azriel’s voice vibrates through you, pulling you from your thoughts, his large frame behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms helping hold your legs up.

You lean your head against him.

“This was a terrible, terrible idea.”

He smiles, “Cassian never was known for good ideas.”

Your face contorts in agony, a strong cramping pain rippling through you.

Azriel takes the wet cloth from the nurse to his left, holding it on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

You scoff, “if I was doing well, the babe would be out by now!”

Azriel takes your jabs, your sarcasm, the intense squeezing of his hand in yours. He’ll take everything you throw at him.

After about eight hours, you were blessed by the cauldron with a beautiful boy, tiny wings clinging to his back as he cried.

-

Azriel’s presence didn’t stop after the babe, Camden, was born. If anything, he spent more time with you. He delegated much of his work as spymaster to support you, even going so far as helping coordinate schedules for Feyre or Nesta to help you bathe.

In the first few weeks, you were able to move around, but you were utterly exhausted. Not just the physical demands of your babe and recovering from birthing a winged babe, but also the emotional toll this took on you left you unable to care much for yourself.

You had thought being bathed would make you feel like a burden, but Feyre and Nesta did everything to make you feel so loved instead. They lit candles, rubbed your back, and told you how proud of you they were constantly. Their words never failed to make you cry, the task at hand feeling impossible if you thought about it too hard.

Eventually, after weeks of sleepless nights, feeling like nothing more than a cow for milk, you and Azriel were able to settle into a routine.

He took care of the babe at night, allowing you decent sleep. He brought Camden to you for his middle of the night feedings. You took care of Camden during the morning through early afternoon while Azriel attended to his duties. The two of you cooked dinner together, Azriel always insisting on washing dishes afterwards.

After a while, it all felt so normal. As if Cassian was never meant to be here for this part.

-

A few months after your son’s first birthday all Hell broke loose. It was a regular day. The sun still shone as it always does, your son was as beautiful as ever. Azriel was holding Camden in the air, helping him stretch out his wings, when he spoke for the first time.

A soft dada accompanied the little boy’s giggles, followed by Azriel stiffening immediately. You looked to the shadowsinger, and when his eyes met yours, you knew.

As if a golden thread appeared out of thin air, tying a knot from Azriel to you, you could feel him. You pulled an experimental tug in the bond, and he pulled back.

Wide eyes meet each other from across the room, silent except for Camden’s continued giggles. You stare at him bewildered, your expression mirrored back to you on his face.

A high pitched noise starts ringing in your eyes before everything goes black.

-

“It’s a bit of a cruel joke,” you say. “I want to love him, I want to be with my mate. But what kind of person does that to her deceased husband?”

You had woken up in Rhys’s office twenty minutes ago to your head in Feyre’s lap, her hands gently running through your hair.

You had heard bits of hushed conversation, and you thought you had heard Az, but when you came to, he was nowhere to be seen.

Rhys looks contemplative before saying, “you of all people should know that Cassian would have wanted you to be happy.”

You put your head in your hands, gathering to courage to say your worst thoughts out loud.

“It feels like Cassian died for me. I know he didn’t, but I can’t help but feel like if he had survived, would Azriel still be my mate? He would have let me be with him, yes, but just.”

You sigh, trying to grab the fragmented thoughts in your head and place them together. Rhys lets you, allowing silence to fill the room.

“It would have killed him having to watch me choose Azriel over him. He would have done the respectable thing, he would have stepped back. He would have been happy for us.”

You sigh, “but if it were the other way, if Nesta or Elain were his mate, I’m not sure I could give him up.”

Your words come pouring out quickly before you begin sobbing. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His hands wrap around your head, and he gently smooths your hair down.

“Feyre and I are immensely happy for you, despite the circumstances. Both of you. I know you might not feel like it, but you made your own family.”

-

You found Azriel a few hours later in what used to be his room in the townhouse. He hardly stayed here, hardly stayed at any of Rhys’s estates anymore, opting instead for the comfort of the home you two now shared.

“Hi,” you say tentatively, stepping through the door.

“Hi,” he echos back, turning to see you.

“Crazy day,” you say, pulling lightly on the bond. He cracks a smile, but there’s a sadness deep in his gaze that you haven’t seen in months.

He moves towards you, slow and deliberate steps, as if you were a bunny found in the woods easily scared off.

“Do you want this?” He asks, eyes focused on your own.

You nod your head. He nods back.

“I dreamt of you. For months, years even. Since about halfway through my pregnancy, you’ve been in my dreams most nights.”

He watches you speak, letting you say whatever it is you need to. You take a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to forget Cass, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re replacing him. I can love both of you.”

He steps closer, slowly moving towards you until he’s stopped right in front of you, his wings blocking you in.

“It’s unconventional, I understand. And I understand if you don’t want a widow with a child.” You look up towards him, determination in your eyes. “But I am all in.”

He gently cups your cheek, eyes full of conflict. “It won’t be easy,” he muses.

“Nothing about this has been easy, why start now?”

His face slowly moves closer to yours, his lips gentle against your own. His hands still hold you gently, as he kisses you long and slow.

There would be time for passion later, his kiss now is full of the emotions words can’t convey. Adoration, sacrifice, immense grief.

You thought having Azriel kiss you would make you feel like you were betraying Cassian. Instead you feel an overwhelming sense of rightness as your hands cup his jaw back, pouring every ounce of you into him.

-

You and Azriel look out at your backyard, watching Nyx and Camden run around, play fighting with their swords. The two boys occasionally take short flights, only about a foot or so off the ground.

Azriel wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes, letting yourself feel this moment, allowing the sounds of the boys playing and your mate’s breathing to lull you into some form of peace you never thought you’d find again.