#Ignore the face above- It was a failed first attempt

[nahoney22]

Hello there!

Can you do a fluff request with Tech please.

6. Dance with me? And 13. Shut up and kiss me already.

Your writing is amazing and so very inspiring x

Choices 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader

word count: 1.6k

Prompts:

“Dance with me?”

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

Summary: When a date stands you up, Tech finally takes the chance to make a move.

Warnings: Safe for Work, Fluff, Reader gets Stood Up, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Slow Dancing, Female Reader.

Authors note: Thanks for the request and kind words! Enjoy 😊

You twirl the ice cubes in your nearly empty glass with your yellow and pink striped straw, the thumping music of the club fading into the background as the realisation sinks in: you've been stood up.

You had decided to navigate the dating scene to which had been a rollercoaster. After realising your feelings weren't going to be ever reciprocated by the one you truly loved, you decided to broaden your horizons. Maybe taking your mind off him. So, you signed up for a dubious dating site on the holonet which only yielded disappointing results, to put it mildly.

Match after match failed to impress. They either droned on about themselves, were impolite to the staff, or made cringe-worthy remarks that you just don’t say on a first date. It was a string of bad experiences. And now, the guy you'd been chatting with for weeks had ghosted you.

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you signal to the service droid. "Could I have another one of these, please?" you request, motioning to your empty glass. The droid beeps in confirmation before attending to your order.

Sighing, you slump your head into your hands, regretting the effort you put into dressing up for this date, only to end up drinking alone. But, your solitude is short-lived.

As you're about to pay for your drink, a hand intercepts yours, and you look up in surprise to see a familiar pair of goggles and eyes, offering to foot the bill. "Allow me."

"Tech? What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you since you didn't respond to any of our messages," Tech explains, settling onto the stool beside you and leaning forward on the bar. "Where is he?"

You pause, considering whether to lie or not. After all, it was Tech whom you truly loved. Despite your attempts at flirting, his lack of response or reciprocation left you hesitant to confess your feelings.

Others would advise you to tell him straight rather than hint but the fear of rejection loomed large, so you let your emotions for him simmer but never fully blossom. "He didn't show," you finally admit with a sigh, tracing your arm with your fingertips.

"Oh," Tech responds, and you nurse your new drink, the silence between you turning somewhat awkward.

"Thanks for the drink, by the way," you say, breaking the quiet, and he offers a light smile.

"Not a problem. I apologise about your date not turning up. It is his loss," Tech says, his words eliciting a flutter in your stomach that you try to ignore.

You offer a dry laugh and a shrug before taking a sip through the straw. "Thanks, Tech. I'll probably finish this and head out."

Tech pauses, glancing around. "There aren't many patrons here. I’m relieved your date didn't show. It is not ideal to be in such a quiet club with few witnesses if something were to go wrong."

You pull a face at his caution. "Why say that?"

"You never know who you might encounter on the holonet. Choosing a very quiet club isn't the safest option," he explains, prompting an eye roll from you as you take another sip of your drink.

Then, you ask him, "So, where would you take someone on a date?"

He falls silent, his gaze drifting into contemplation. "I have pondered, in theory, that if I were to pursue someone, I would opt for a restaurant. Establishing eye contact is pivotal, followed by discussions about our lives. Then, perhaps, a stroll."

You hum softly, resisting the urge to picture yourself as his date, seated across from him, indulging in delectable cuisine as he shares his sentiments, followed by a romantic walk. "That sounds lovely. They’d be very lucky."

"I'm pleased you think so. Now, I pose the same question to you, as I doubt this club aligns with your idea of a first date," he counters as he does a brief scan of the area, prompting a laugh from you—he's not entirely wrong.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. It depends on whether I like the person or not. I'd prefer to be with someone I enjoy doing something with, rather than doing something with someone I don't," you admit, reminiscing about the countless hours you spent simply conversing with Tech in the cockpit.

A smile graces his lips at your words. "That's endearing."

You take another sip of your drink, emptying it in a few swallows before sighing and preparing to depart. "I should be on my way."

"Very well," Tech nods, but a sudden surge of courage overtakes him as he grasps your upper arm, halting your departure. "What about dancing?"

You glance at his hand on your arm, then up at him with furrowed brows. "What about it?"

"Do you... enjoy it?" he asks, his apprehension palpable as he carefully selects his words.

"I can't say I've had much experience with it. Why do you ask?" you inquire, feeling your heart quicken as he rises and steps closer.

"Dance with me?" he proposes.

You? Dance with Tech? Was this some bizarre turn of events, or perhaps a dream induced by something that Droid had put in your drink? "You don't dance," you blurt out, puzzled by his unexpected request.

He chuckles at your incredulous expression and your swift observation of his lack of dancing skills. "No, I do not. But, I don't see why we both can't give it a try together."

Part of you hopes that you detected a hint of nervousness in his demeanor, perhaps stemming from the fact that he's asking you to dance rather than his own dancing abilities. So, you offer a shy smile and nod. "Okay then."

His smile widens, his eyes gleaming behind his goggles as he releases your arm and gestures for you to lead the way to the main dance floor. The music pulses softly, with a gentle rhythm that invites movement. The deep purple strobe lights dancing off your bodies.

Neither of you seem entirely sure of what to do next, exchanging uncertain glances until he clears his throat and extends his hand to you. Your cheeks warm while your fingers slip into his as he draws you closer, his other hand finding its place on your hip as yours rests on his opposite shoulder.

You initiate a small side step, and Tech follows suit, occasionally glancing down at your feet before meeting your gaze. "This is unexpected... but nice," you murmur softly, even as your whole body tingles with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

A part of you cautions against letting your hopes get the better of you, reminding you that this shouldn't be happening. Yet, as you lock eyes with him, he holds your gaze, a rare silence settling between you. And he always has something to say.

Drawing you closer than before, your cheek rests against his chest as the two of you sway to the music, his chin gently resting atop your head. "May I ask you a question?" he ventures after a minute or two.

"Uh-huh," you reply, your eyes fluttering closed as you savour the moment.

"Why did you not choose me?" he inquires, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it reverberates in the stillness of the moment.

Your eyes flutter open, and you tilt your head back, peering up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. The dim light of the club casts a soft glow on his face, illuminating the earnestness in his gaze. "What do you mean?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, hardly audible over the pulsating music.

He bites the inside of his cheek, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he readjusts his goggles with a practiced hand. "You've... flirted with me on numerous occasions," he explains, his tone careful and measured, "yet you chose to pursue someone else."

His words leave you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to comprehend the implications of his confession. He knew about your attempts at flirting? The realisation sends a shiver down your spine. "Tech," you begin, meeting his gaze with furrowed brows, "you never indicated that you wanted me to stop, or that you felt the same way. I just assumed..."

"That I did not share the same feelings you have for me? That I could not?” His voice is soft, yet it carries a weight that hangs in the air between you.

"Do you?" you whisper, feeling the flutter of anticipation in your chest, your heart pounding against your ribs as if seeking escape from the intensity of the moment.

He nods solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. "I didn't know how to tell you," he admits, "Expressing emotions is not exactly second nature to me. It was not until the others pointed out your advances that I realised it was too late to respond."

As he starts to explain, his words tumbling out in a rush, you can't help but notice the warmth spreading across his cheeks, the nervous energy that radiates from him. It's endearing, seeing him flustered like this, and it emboldens you to take action.

Releasing his hand from your grasp, you reach up to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. "Shut up and kiss me already.”

Tone soft but resolute, a playful glint dancing in your eyes has him leaning into you without a second thought.

His lips meet yours in a tender and hesitant touch. Warm. Soft. They were everything you had imagined. Everything around you seems to vanish, just you and him caught in the moment. Then, you can feel him smile against your lips as he draws you near, body flushed to his as his lips move along with yours with a gentle passion.

As he pulls away for a breath, both of your heartbeats shattering your eardrums, he smiles lovingly at you. “Do not hesitate to tell me to shut up and kiss you again.”

Masterlist

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[triple-pupil]

@ando666detonao's humanized Show!Devil because I'm literally in love.

Check his stuff out, it's perfect in every single way.

[dilf-lover99]

And I Love Her | J.P.

Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader

Summary: The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

Warnings: so. much. pining., idiots to lovers, miscommunication(s), a dash of angst, some heavy kissing, james potter being the literal definition of boyfriendism

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: hi ! james potter won the poll and i am so completely okay with it. i really intended for this to be angst but he's just SO boyfriend. this may be my favorite thing i've ever written and i really hope you enjoy it too ! p.s. i missed u guys lots and i'm so grateful you've stuck around after months of crickets from me. love u love u love u<3

(y/n).

Depending on who you asked, it was only a name. The name of a classmate, or a friend, or yourself, but only a name nonetheless.

Unless you asked James Potter.

It wasn’t only a name. Not to him. To James, it was everything.

Because it was your name.

Your name that hastened his heartbeat with every mention.

Your name that sent a salient stream of blood rushing to his cheeks, tinting them a lucent shade of scarlet.

Your name that, once mentioned, seemed to follow him everywhere, as though the wind itself would begin whispering it, rustling alongside the branches of the whomping willow tree before floating its way over to his ears, sounding sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard before.

To state it simply, James Potter was irrevocably, inconceivably, in love with you.

But saying it that way didn’t seem like enough.

He didn’t just love you with his heart, for his heart could stop beating. And he didn’t only love you with his mind, for his memories could fail him one day. James Potter loved you with the entirety of his soul, with every fibre making up his being. Of that, he was certain.

What he wasn’t certain of however, was how to bare his infatuated soul to you.

After all, how exactly does one tell his best friend he’s besotted with her?

He tried the gentle approach first. 

The train back to Hogwarts was filling up quickly. Stories of his peers’ summer holidays flow obstreperously through the air as James’ eyes remain glued to the door of him and his friends’ usual compartment.

“Ease off it with the evil eye, Prongs. She’ll be here.” Sirius’ teasing voice breaks James away from his thoughts, which were unsurprisingly fixated on you.

He doesn’t bother denying it, well aware he’s been staring daggers at the door since he stepped foot off platform 9 ¾, anxiously awaiting your appearance after spending the entire summer holiday apart from you.

“Leave him be, Pads. He misses her.” Remus interjects kindly, not lifting his eyes from the well-worn pages of whichever book he’s decided to burrow his attention into for the ride back to Hogwarts.

“Well he can join the bloody club then, can’t he?” Sirius starts, intent on ignoring Remus’ suggestion, “I’ve just about fallen for her myself after spending my entire holiday listening to this git recite his bloody sonnets for her,” he continues with a not-so flattering mimicry of a lovesick James, “It is the east! And (y/n) is the sun. O Romeo!” He throws himself dramatically to the floor on his knees, clasping his hands above his heart.

Peter watches the spectacle with a grin, covering up his chuckle with a cough after James sends him a look of warning. Before James can defend himself against Sirius’ melodrama, the door to their compartment slides open, revealing a beautiful and slightly out of breath you.

And suddenly you’re not the only one who’s out of breath.

You’ve gotten even prettier over the summer, somehow. If somebody had asked James before, if he thought you could possibly have gotten any more beautiful, he’d’ve laughed in their face, telling them tales of how your beauty could put Aphrodite to shame. But now? Now his heart was beating so violently in his chest he was almost certain it was attempting to escape, trying to take its rightful place upon your sleeve.

“Sorry I’m late, I nearly broke my neck out there!” You stop briefly to catch your breath, the jog on your way over winding you more than you’d care to admit. “Someone ought to tell those first-years there’s enough seats on here for the lot of us. I’ve just been walloped by a bloody eleven year old! Cheeky little-” You cease your rambling amidst your confusion at the sight before you, Sirius on his knees at James’ feet.

“Have I interrupted something? Perhaps a proposal of sorts?” You jest, your amusement growing at the wide eyed look on James’ face as he scrambles to stand, coming to greet you properly with a hug that doesn’t last nearly as long as you wish it would.

“No!” He protests instantly, amidst wrapping you in the soft embrace.

“Cor, I’ve missed you.” He mumbles after pulling away, leaving a hand on your back as he gently guides you to your seat beside him, hesitant to do so, as once you’re sat he’ll no longer have an excuse to touch you.

“I missed you more!” Your enthusiasm brings him optimism, there’s a chance she means it the way you do, he thinks, there’s a chance-

“And what of me?” Sirius and his bloody interjections. James has half a mind to lock him out of the ruddy compartment and leave him to fend for himself amongst the overzealous first-years.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” You feign confusion, though not very well, James can see the brilliant smile forming leisurely upon your lips. What I would do to those lips, his thoughts are running rampant after a summer spent away from your presence, too caught up to hear the jokes you and Sirius are trading back and forth, and that laugh! His internal monologue continues, ’s like a proper bloody song. Just ask her, right now. If she says no you can play it off as a joke. It might sting a bit, but surely it’d be better than keeping it all locked away.

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Just us two? We’ll have a lovely time, I swear it.”

He knows what he was hoping you’d say, something along the lines of ‘Yes, James, I’d love to!’ but he wasn’t expecting it.

He also wasn’t expecting your given response.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Jamie, thank you! D’you see that, Sirius? A helpful suggestion. You ought to try one of those sometime.” You’re back to chatting with Sirius and Remus as Peter leans over to James, whispering an explanation to his visibly confused friend.

James had caught you mid-complaint about how you’d forgotten to bring the dittany leaves you need to make the special healing chocolates you gift Remus after a particularly bad full moon. After Sirius’ not-so-helpful suggestion to try substituting them with pot leaves, you gladly welcomed the chance to pop over to Hogsmeade with James and buy some more.

You’d mistaken his date proposal for a shopping trip.

Marvellous.

This is going to be the year that James tells you how he feels. He’ll make sure of it.

If for no other reason than this was your seventh and final year at Hogwarts together. His stomach churned at the mere idea of allowing you to slip through his fingers for good; you acting as the coarse sand to his adamant hourglass. He wouldn’t have it.

So he’d try again.

In the few weeks since you’ve returned to Hogwarts, your time’s been consumed by studying for your N.E.W.T.s. You’re also determined to acquire a spot in the internship programme at St. Mungo’s. The sheer amount of time you’ve spent there with your boys over the last few years has more than prepared you for a future as a healer if you end up enjoying the work.

“Alright, who was the first witch to extract floo powder?” James has spent the last hour and a half quizzing you on all matters Herbology, if it were anyone else he’d’ve been bored to slumber by now. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was you.

The two of you were sat outside together on a blanket, taking full advantage of the uncharacteristically sunny day. James is leaned comfortably back against a tree as you sit across from him, simultaneously taking notes and answering each of his questions without pause.

“Ignatia Wildsmith. Ravenclaw. Come ‘ead James, I’ve told you to stop going easy on me! Every seventh-year applying will know all of these.” Bloody lucky I love her so much, James thinks to himself, I thought that was a hard one.

He’d like to laugh your nerves away, crack a few jokes and tell you that you may be going a bit overboard. You’re going to get the internship, and not just because you’re brilliant and perfectly qualified, but also because your Herbology professor had written a glowing recommendation letter singing your praises.

But he can’t find it in himself to mess around when you’ve got that adorable little wrinkle between your eyebrows displaying your worry, and your lips have turned down into a delectably kissable pout. It takes nearly everything in him not to brush it away with his own lips. 

“(y/n),” He starts, wetting his lips with his tongue as he desperately attempts to keep his thoughts from overtaking his voice, “It’s going to be alright, I promise. You’re more than ready for this. Why don’t we try taking a little break?” His heart feels as though it’s leapt into his throat when you glance at him and send a delicate smile of gratitude.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. We’ve been at this for hours, you must be exhausted of me by now.” You smile, more cheerful this time as you realize a break is precisely what you need.

James can’t contain the laugh that escapes him.

Exhausted? Of you? 

The absurdity of thinking he could ever grow tired of you was an inherently laughable concept to him.

He’s nearly clutching his stomach when he finally manages to compose himself, making heart-stopping eye contact with his equally amused and puzzled best friend.

“Are you mad?” James’ dimpled smile sets a kaleidoscope of butterflies aflutter in your stomach, “I’d spend all my hours with you if I could.” He means it with every atom that makes up his being, he’s meant it for years but now he’s actually saying it to you.

Your smile grows wider with each word he speaks, your own thoughts matching the underlying sentiment of his articulation more than he could ever know.

“I-” He pauses, inhaling deeply and squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to maintain his courage, “I love you.” You did it, he thinks to himself proudly, you actually bloody did it, Prongs! He exhales shakily, reinitiating eye contact with you as a small smile begins to blossom on his tender lips.

“James,” Your voice holds an underlying tone of sadness that causes an adorable crinkle of confusion to settle between James’ eyebrows, “I love you too.” You smile tightly, almost as though it’s causing you discomfort to do so.

“You do?” James is more perplexed now than he had been when you’d explained to him in painstaking detail the intricate relationships between each member of Fleetwood Mac the first time the two of you listened to Rumours together.

“Of course I do,” Your smile stretches intimately, the somber quality of your voice never wavering, “You’re my best mate, after all.”

Best mate? James thinks, is that really all she sees?

Had he not been so caught up in his own racing thoughts, he may have picked up on yours. He may have realized that his situation was holding a gargantuan mirror up to your own, casting a perfect reflection of the feelings within.

Best mates, you internally chastise yourself, that’s all he sees.

A proper bloody mirror.

“It was completely humiliating, Pads. She might as well’ve called me her bloody brother.” James has been yammering on about what happened that day for the past three weeks. Three weeks. Sirius is going positively mad, somehow having become James’ sounding board to rehash his complaints every time he remembers the encounter.

“I mean, how am I supposed to tell the girl I’d like to spend the rest of my life with her now?” James is pacing back and forth agitatedly at the foot of Sirius’ bed, as the aforementioned boy lays back uninterestedly, wishing his duvet would come to life and swallow him whole in an effort to escape the worlds most redundant conversation.

“She’d probably tell you that sounds lovely. Make you her future child’s godparent.” Sirius jokes dryly.

James abandons his invisible footpath, a wave of panic comically widening his warm hazel eyes substantially.

“She what?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Prongs! I can’t take any more of this,” Sirius sits up agitatedly, now far beyond his capacity for James’ lovesick commentaries, “Just go tell her. Right now.”

“Are you mad? Have you not just heard everything I’ve said?” James would normally find humour in Sirius’ lackadaisical attitude, but confessing his feelings for you was an entirely serious matter with no margin for error.

“Oh I’ve heard it, Prongs. For the past three weeks. And the entire bloody summer. And every single year before that.” He moves to stand in front of James, his agitation fading into sincerity, “I know how you feel, Prongs. But does she?” James swallows thickly as Sirius continues, “I don’t mean just telling her you love her, I mean telling her how you love her. As more than a friend. Maybe she feels the same way.”

James takes his time considering Sirius’ words. He’s tried to tell you, clearly, but he assumed that you’d only seen him as a friend. But what if you hadn’t? What if Sirius is right, and you told him you loved him as a friend because you’d assumed that’s what he’d meant when he said it?

“I’m a proper git, aren’t I?” James concludes aloud.

“Most certainly, Prongsy. It’s why I keep you around,” Sirius’ playful mood returns swiftly, “Makes me feel better about myself.” 

You’re talking softly with Remus in the library, voices low enough not to disrupt your peers but just detectable enough for James to catch your words when he finds you, internally preparing his declaration of unwavering devotion for you.

“You’re not going out with him, are you?” Remus’ hushed voice holds a curious tone.

“Of course not, Rem.” You smile softly, “Could you honestly imagine that? Him and I dating?”

James’ eyebrows furrow together in confusion, he presses himself slightly against a nearby bookshelf in an attempt to hear your conversation more clearly.

“No, I guess not,” Remus chuckles faintly, “It would certainly make things awkward if they didn’t work out. Being friends and all.” 

“No kidding.” You chuckle good-naturedly. 

James feels like a bag of cement has been poured down his throat, constricting his lungs and settling into a block of concrete in the pit of his stomach.

Sirius had been wrong. You didn’t love James as more than a friend, in fact, you’d practically laughed at the thought of it. In his hasty escape from the scene of the melancholic crime, James neglected to hear the rest of your conversation with Remus.

“He’s a lovely lad, truly,” You smile genuinely, “Any girl would be lucky to call Amos Diggory her boyfriend. We’re just better as friends is all.” You trail off, leaving out the part where your heart already belongs to another shared friend of yours and Remus’.

It’s not like it was ever going to happen anyway. Your love for James Potter was entirely unreciprocated.

Wasn’t it?

James is avoiding you.

As painful as it is to spend each never-ending moment of spare time away from you, James can only think of how much more agonizing it would be to spend those moments with you.

To fix his loving gaze on your sparkling eyes, only to find them filled with affections one would hold only for a friend.

To accomplish the feat of bringing a luminous smile to your delicate lips, only to remember those lips would never brush tenderly against his own.

To be so close to the girl he loves, only to be denied her heart in equal measure.

It’s easier, in a sense, to push you away.

It’s only temporary, just until he can stomach the thought of spending the rest of his life as your best mate and nothing more.

But it’s been weeks, and the idea still makes his head feel like it’s underwater, like he’s fighting to reach the surface but his leg’s been caught on a viciously determined blade of seaweed.

Still, he’s convinced himself that this is his best course of action.

Unbeknownst to James, however, you’ve been going stark raving mad.

You’ve hardly spoken to him in weeks. When you think about it, you’ve barely even seen him, save for a few quick glimpses in your classes and across the dining tables in the Great Hall.

You’ve tried to talk to him, clearly something is bothering him. Maybe you’ve said or done something to upset him without realizing it. But he’d brushed you off before you could even get out the words ‘are you alright?’

You’d asked Remus, Sirius, and Peter about it, each of them giving you vague semblances of justification that fell entirely flat, a few “He’s just busy with quidditch”s and a couple of “Must be studying today”s. You’ve grown tired of the excuses and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it yourself.

You’re leaning picturesquely against the wall outside of the lad’s changing room when James finally sees you again. His curly hair is spilling droplets of water from the shower he’s just taken, successfully washing away the evidence of his quidditch practice.

You’re beautiful. That’s all he can think as he finally allows himself to take you in fully for the first time in weeks. He feels like he’s been holding his breath since he saw you last and now he can finally exhale, a sense of euphoria filling his chest as his lungs deflate mercifully.

“Hi.” You state gently, a delicate smile painted daintily across your lips.

“Hi.” James echoes once he’s relearned the inhale-exhale repetition of breathing again.

“I waited for you,” You start after a brief silence, “Which- You can see that, obviously.” You chuckle a ebullient breath that causes a small smile to form on James’ face, Merlin, I’ve missed that, he thinks as you continue. “I just, um- I thought maybe we could talk?” You’re fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit of yours that James has long since memorized by now.

He instantly reaches for your hands, tenderly taking one in his own and carefully intertwining your fingers together with his. The action is like second nature, he hardly thinks twice about it.

You smile visibly at the act of comfort, if he’s upset with you and that’s the reason he’s been avoiding you, it makes your heart skip a beat that he’s putting it all aside to calm you down when you’re anxious.

“About what?” He tries, though you both know that’s not going to work.

“Nice,” You smile teasingly, “Want to give it a real go this time?”

James swallows something akin to a lump in his throat, averting his resplendent hazel gaze from your eyes to land somewhere along the floor as he overthinks which approach he should take.

He could try honesty. Yes, he thinks, because that would go over proper well. I’m avoiding you cause I’ve been gutted since I heard you’re not in love with me. Surely she’ll find that real mature, Prongs.

He could also try lying his arse off. And that would work, he sarcastically chastises silently, Me? Oh nothing’s wrong at all. Just tired, y’know? Practice and homework and the like. As if she’s ever believed a lie you’ve told her before.

He finally chances resuming eye contact with you, heartbeat hastening expeditiously as his hazel orbs lock onto your patently awaiting eyes. You should be looking far more frustrated, James wouldn’t blame you if you were. You have every right to be upset, and yet you’re not.

Instead, you’re you. 

You, who’s calmly awaiting a response, fingers still gently intertwined with James’. 

You, who’s looking at him with soft, sparkling eyes, eyes that are silently promising him no matter what he says, everything is going to be alright.

You, the girl he loves more than anything in the world.

“You.” He states after an implicit eternity.

“Me?” Your features mix together to create a perfectly darling display of confusion that, even despite the circumstances, causes a modest smile to tug upwards at the corners of James’ mouth.

“I’ve been avoiding you.” He conveys, sounding as though he’s just revealed to you a hidden secret you’d’ve never otherwise been able to uncover.

You can’t contain the short laugh that escapes you, a smile taking its rightful place on your face. “Yeah, ‘m not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but I managed to put that one together.”

James can’t subdue the traces of guilt that seep onto his face.

“I was hoping maybe we could talk about why. If I’ve done something to upset you-”

“No!” James cuts you off, “No, love, you haven’t done anything. Nothing you could control anyway.” His voice is less than half of its usual volume at the last sentence he utters.

Your face is back to holding that adorably confused expression that James so desperately yearns to kiss away.

“I have to admit, Jamie, I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”

James sighs, finally releasing the hand that’s been holding comfortably on to your own and running it through his leisurely drying hair. He releases a sigh of distress and squeezes his eyes shut firmly in an attempt to figure out the best way to explain himself.

“If you’re not upset with me, then why have you been avoiding me?” You’re trying to put it together on your own as James is proving to be no help, “Wait a mo! Is this some kind of prank or something?” You smile, though you’re not entirely certain you’re correct yet, “Are you trying to get back at me for dying your knickers pink? Because that was an accident!” 

James can’t help but smile at your incorrect deduction. Merlin she’s adorable he thinks, how am I supposed to tell her now?

“Yes!” James concludes untruthfully, “You got me. Just a prank. Might’ve gone a bit too far with it though. Sorry ‘bout that, love.”

He brings you into a hug and, after going weeks without it, it feels like home.

You feel like home.

You’re hugging James, after having just gone weeks without it. And you just know. 

You have to tell him.

You have to tell him, right now, that you’re in love with him.

And so you do.

“I love you.” You state breathlessly, pulling away from the warm solace of his embrace and looking bravely into his glimmering hazel eyes.

James nods his head mechanically, as if he’s agreeing to your suggestion on what to have for dinner and not taking in the confession of eternal love you’ve just spouted.

“Yes, I love you too,” He smiles a tight, strained smile, “Mate.” He punctuates his final word by bumping his fist gently into your shoulder.

Oh, you think, I’m going to have to spell it out for him, aren’t I?

“No, James. I love you,” You take a step closer to him, not breaking eye contact despite the nerves that are jostling around your insides like a violent sea in a raging storm, taking a deep breath before exhaling somewhat expeditiously, you continue, “Like- Like, I’m in love with you.”

The first thing James feels in that moment are his eyes widening emphatically behind his round-rimmed glasses, his dark lashes making direct contact with the top of his eyelids. He’s certain he must have heard you wrong, that or he’s understood you wrong.

The second thing he feels is hope. What if he hadn’t understood you wrong?

The third thing he feels is his heart, beating faster than it ever has before, so fast he thinks it might be ready to do him in for good. Surely a heart shouldn’t be beating that fast.

“You’re in love? With me?” James speaks disbelievingly, though he’s unable to hide the traces of optimism he’s feeling as a modest smile begins to form on his face.

You nod your head assuredly, a genial smile of your own starting at the sight of his, “Yes, I’m in love with you. Madly, in fact.”

You’ve spent months, years even, deliberating on how you would tell James, if you would tell James. You’d spent countless hours wondering how he would react and what would happen after all was said and done.

You’d planned to tell him all about that. About how long you’ve felt this way, when it started and why it’s taken you so long to tell him, how you were too afraid of risking your best friend should anything have gone wrong.

What you hadn’t planned on was what happened the second you got the last word out.

James eagerly presses his plush lips onto your own, savouring the long overdue sensation of your mouth against his. He tenderly brushes your bottom lip with his tongue once he feels you respond to the kiss with equal fervour. Enthusiastically, you grant his tongue access into your mouth, pulling him closer to you by the roots of his damp hair.

James lets out a low groan at the contact, pulling you flush against his body by your waist, his hands hungrily gripping onto you for dear life as, somehow, the kiss deepens even further.

When the need for oxygen outweighs your mutual need for each others lips, you reluctantly part the slightest of distances, foreheads resting tenderly against one another.

“I’m in love you too. So bloody madly.” James whispers contentedly with a lovesick grin. 

You’re each donning smiles brighter than you can ever recall before.

The moment you’ve caught your breath you’re back at it again in full force, gripping at each others clothes and tangling nimble fingers through the other’s hair. James pulls back when your beaming smile makes it a little harder for him to kiss you, returning a smile just as wide that compels you to pull him back in for another kiss, or two, or three.

When the two of you finally feel satiated enough, James pulls back again, a noticeably farther distance. He’s still smiling but it isn’t quite as bright as it was a moment ago.

“What was all that about in the library, then? With Moony?” He asks you the question that’s been clawing at his insides for the last few weeks.

You pause, visibly confused as you shuffle through the files of your memories until you land on one a few weeks ago with Remus in the library. The two of you were discussing a friend who’d asked you on a date. You’d declined as politely as you could, valuing his friendship but knowing your heart had long since been beating for James.

“What about it?” You smile confusedly.

“Well, you were talking about me, weren’t you?” James looks down to the floor, expression now almost devoid of the happiness that had previously overtaken every inch of his face.

“What?” You laugh briefly before it registers, not just his words, but the reason he’s been avoiding you for the last few weeks.

“Wait- James!” You tilt your head into his line of vision, gently cradling his face with your hand as you turn his head to face you fully, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You thought.. Oh, Merlin.”

You pull him into a hug, holding him tight enough to convey just how wrong he’s been.

“I was talking about Amos Diggory.” You state with a gentle exhale, something between a laugh and a sigh, pulling back you rest your arms at your sides. “He asked me to dinner.”

James doesn’t hide the relief that courses through his body, despite the slight scoff of jealousy he lets out at your final sentence.

“But,” You wrap your arms back around him in reassurance, looking up into his eyes that are once again sparkling with happiness, “I’ve been a tad busy, being in love with my best friend and all. So I told him no. Obviously.”

“Right, obviously.” James replies with a cheeky smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re a git, you know.” You roll your eyes, the action a mixture of lovesickness and frustration. “You could’ve just asked me then. Instead of hiding in the books like a proper stalker. And then avoiding me. For weeks,” You’re smiling, but you know you’re still getting your point across, “You git.” You punctuate your final word with a gentle swat to James’ chest, smiling adoringly when he grabs that hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a tender kiss to it before dropping your intertwined hands back at your side.

“I know,” He admits apologetically, “I’m sorry.” He’s smiling breathtakingly, “Still love me?”

You can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him, because in some roundabout way, it’s what led you to this moment right now, where you can reach over and kiss him if you want to.

And you want to. 

Pulling him into you by the fabric of his shirt, you plant another kiss upon James’ lips. The passion and tenderness in the kiss meld together just as perfectly as your lips do.

“Yes.” You mumble happily when your mouths finally break apart. “Always.”

[yunhoszn]

motive

PAIRING choi san x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.37k

GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending

SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.

MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔

“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”

You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner. 

With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror. 

Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him. 

Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.

You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.

He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.

”Do you think you could bench me?”

A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you. 

You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space. 

There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.

”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.

”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”

”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.

San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”

Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”

Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”

He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it. 

“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”

Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go. 

“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth. 

“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”

“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.

”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”

It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”

When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.

You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”

“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more. 

He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily. 

“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”

You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home. 

He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum. 

“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”

“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain. 

Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before. 

There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace. 

You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”

“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave. 

San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile. 

“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again. 

“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”

You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”

“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”

Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed. 

After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain. 

“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.” 

You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone. 

“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”

Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips. 

“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”

He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…

Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”

“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”

You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you. 

Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock. 

“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper. 

“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies. 

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. 

“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder. 

“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”

“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up. 

“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”

Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart. 

“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought. 

“I would love nothing more.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 7.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Angst and sadness :( Panic attacks

This was all wrong.

Cassian roared with laughter at a joke Feyre had told, his large hand beating against the table in glee causing the glasses to shake and plates to clatter. Rhysand was conversing eagerly with Amren and Mor, eyes twinkling above the rim of his glass of wine which was raised to his lips. Even Nesta had a content smile across her face as she bounced Nyx upon her lap as he gurgled happily at this action. And Elain. Elain was attempting to chat with Azriel about how her garden has been coming along since he left.

But Azriel felt like a ghost in his own home. He felt as if he was stuck in purgatory. His perfect life he’d always wished for was in the palm of his hands. Here surrounded by his family, past transgressions forgotten as he was able to talk to Elain again.

This was all wrong.

This was Ariel’s first full night back in his home court. Once Rhysand had made his presence known he had winnowed Azriel away instantly, eager for his brother to return home. The promise of Ariel’s belongings being brought to him the next day on his lips.

Shocked at the sudden reappearance of his brother Azriel didn’t know what to do or what to say. Wanting to give him time to readjust after being away Rhys had sent him to bed. To his bed, in his home. It was all too surreal to Azriel, as if it was all some dream he couldn’t wake up from. Only he couldn’t decide which was reality, Day or Night?

He had spent most of the following day dissociated and disoriented. Training with his brothers was a complete fail, he lacked both in focus and in presence. Cassian joked that it was all that Day Court air messing with his brain. Azriel laughed along with him but was sure it was due to the hole in his heart that felt like a missing limb.

Which is what led him to where he was now. At his celebratory return dinner with him family. He wondered if everyone there knew the true reason why he had been gone. Would they have been celebrating his return then? Or would they have let Rhysand leave him at the Day Court? Ashamed of their friend who had ignored Rhys’s wishes.

The Day court. The place Azriel hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place was now the place he found himself longing for. Y/N. Azriel’s stomach churned at the thought of her. What must she think? Azriel felt nauseous at the thought of Y/N waiting for the male at his door. Waiting for someone who would never come.

They had shared the most perfect night of his life, and then Azriel had left. It wasn’t until the morning after he returned back to his home that Azriel came back to reality long enough to find Rhys and begged him to let him go back. Rhysand must have thought it was some form of a mental breakdown after being separated from his family and entering a self-imposed form of isolation. He was afraid Azriel had grown too used to being alone.

Ever the concerned brother, Rhysand had gripped his shoulder and told Azriel that he was sorry. That he should never have sent him away and that he wouldn’t take control over his life again. Azriel had dismissed his brothers apology and asked once more to go back to the Day Court.

Rhys had assured him that he told Helion about his departure and how he wouldn’t return and then urged Azriel to go to training. To forget about the past and move on.

So now Azriel was here, surrounded by his family. Yet feeling more alone than he ever has. He stared at Elain next to him. Sweet Elain, who had worn her blue dress for the occasion of his return. Yet all Azriel could think was how much he wished for it to be Y/N in the dress he’s sure she made with him as inspiration.

“And then I planted some blue violets which just look wonderful next to-… Azriel? Are you ok?” Elain’s excitement at describing the new additions to her garden faded as she noticed the death-like look on Azriel’s face. Her descriptions reminding him of just last night when he had shared the Day Court garden with Y/N, the two admiring its existence. The memory he had sealed in his mind forever of Y/N surrounded by the vibrant life of the garden threatened to bring tears to his eyes.

His lack of an answer to Elain’s question had caused everyone else at the table to stop talking at look his way. A worried Rhysand tapped on his mental shields but Azriel refused to lower his wall, afraid if he were to allow Rhysand’s claws into his mind they’d tarnish his memories of Y/N forever.

Not wanting to be here, Azriel stood abruptly. His chair falling backwards onto the ground with a thud and drink spilling across the table. Red wine staining the pure white of the table cloth. Cassian who’s face was full of concern, also jumped to his feet and made to move towards his brother.

But Azriel not wanting the comfort that his family would offer him allowed his shadows to absorb him. They surrounded his body like a thick black cloak and swept him away. Taking their master back to where he needed to be. Back to the Day Court. The last picture his eyes saw was of his fearful family staring back at him, anxious for their friend and brother who did not return from his trip the same.

~~~~~

Azriel appeared at her door. Palms sweating and heart racing. It had only been a day. How mad could she be? Sure he should brace himself for a slap, he expected that she would even scream at him a little before she’d grow her beautiful smile back and invite him inside as she did last night. Jokingly berating him for his disappearing act.

He’d be able to apologise for the confusion, explain what had happened and how his brother had whisked him away. But all would be forgiven because Y/N would understand. She would be able to read Azriel just as she had from the moment she met him and tell he was being honest. He’d even tell her that he loved her, just so she knew how much she meant to him.

Hope in his chest, and excitement at seeing the women who had broken down his walls, Azriel knocked and waited.

Nothing.

Nothing was fine, the hour was late and Y/N was likely asleep. He debated sending his shadows inside to seek her out, to gently caress her arm and brush her face until she woke and felt the excitement of seeing them. That their presence meant that Azriel was here and she would rush to the door and into his waiting arms.

But Azriel was interrupted by a little old woman clearing her throat next to him, stopping his eyes from burning a hole in Y/N’s front door and drawing them to herself.

“She’s gone.” The woman said simply as she pottered to the door of the house next to Y/N’s, key rattling in hand.

“W-what?” Azriel asked in confusion, unsure what the woman meant, shadows freezing along with him as they waited to hear what she had to say.

“She left this morning with a lot of bags in tow. Said she’d be gone for a while. I don’t blame the poor dear the state she was in when she got back to her house earlier.” The woman let a sad smile cross her face at the memory of her younger neighbour’s frantic appearance as she entered her home with a sea of tears staining her face.

“What?” Azriel said once more, eyes stinging. He was too late. Y/N had gone. Gone where?

“Poor child was done with being alone that’s what I think. She deserves to find a life.” And with that the old woman entered her home leaving Azriel alone in the street, moonlight casting a haunted glow over Y/N’s empty home.

Neither Azriel or his shadows moved. Too stunned by the news to know what to do. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

His chest became tight, the action of breathing causing him pain as he struggled to keep his shallow breaths even. His eyes blurred from his tears he dropped to his knees, hand pressed tightly against his racing heart in an attempt to slow the erratic beating. He felt as if he was dying.

Shadows coming to their senses they absorbed their master once more. Transporting him back to the Night Court. Back to his home which now felt strange to him, which felt like something was missing.

Azriel stayed in place wherever his shadows had taken him, knees pushing into the dirt on the ground. His ability to breathe forgotten as his head grew lighter and nausea crept up his throat. The constant flow of tears unceasing. A firm body crashed into his, pulling him into their arms. Through his clouded vision Azriel couldn’t make out who it was but he forced himself to summon the words to speak, “She’s gone” he choked, “she’s gone.” The arms around him drew him in tighter, pulling Azriel closer to their chest.

Azriel then felt Cassian’s long hair brush against his tear-stained cheeks. It was his brother who hugged him securely, his large hand bracing the back of Azriel’s head as he sobbed, “she’s gone” escaping his lips once more.

His eyes had cleared enough that Azriel could look past Cassian’s shoulder and he locked eyes with the blue violets Elain had told him she had planted.

His shadows had taken him to the Night Court’s garden but his heart longed for him to be in another.

Part 8

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: If you want to cry even more: blue violets represent the melancholy of lost love and abandonment :(

Taglist Part 1:

@minnieoo @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 14

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: M (childbirth, PTSD, mentions of grief)

A/N: I tried to make this as non graphic as possible, focusing instead on the emotions of the characters. The entire reason I wrote this fic in the first place, I couldn't have made it through this chapter without the incredible suggestions, support and beta reading of @the-scandalorian and @the-ginger-hedge-witch. I truly hope you enjoy ❤❤

--

In the blue wash of time between the middle of the night and the dawn, he’s asleep next to you when the first pains start. 

Deep at the root of your spine, a low throb blooms. Fading in and out, you try to ignore the manageable ache and when you can’t, your first instinct is to curl in on yourself. So you do just that: rub the heel of your hand against your tailbone, letting your feet slide together in the same rhythmic figure eight you soothe yourself with when you’re really sick. 

That motion alone should have been a giveaway, but it doesn’t strike you until the sun is rising that this is something different. 

Still, you let him sleep. 

On an instinct to be alone, you slip from the bed to go sit out on the porch. Another swell of pain ripples across your back, the sensation still light enough to soothe with a steady rub, and a taut contraction stretches across your hips for a fleeting moment, then disappears. 

The sun peeking just above the horizon, you breath low and slow, watching as it makes a steady ascent. The peaceful setting seeps in, blanketing you in reassurance and comfort, and you’re remarkably calm when he comes out of the bedroom in search of you. 

Sleep mussed curls and a frown on his face, his arms are crossed tight over his chest as he wards off the morning chill. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice is husky and low, thick with sleep. 

“I think it’s gonna be today.”

—

He dresses immediately, setting his mind to tasks you’ve discussed for months beforehand in an attempt to calm his nerves. Still, his hands tremble when he walks down to the bank to fill pails with water. He balls them into fists and shakes them in frustration, willing them to stop. 

Hours, days: there is no way of knowing how long this is going to take. He hates the uncertainty of it, the edge of danger that you have to teeter upon while he is helpless to stop it. Anything, at any moment, could go wrong and he would have no way of knowing what or how to help you. 

He’d be fucking useless, just like he was before. 

The guilt he’s always felt creeps through his chest like the fungus that’s infected everything else, settling deep between his ribs. It branches up through his mind, invading his thoughts and the heavy weight of it pulls at him; his shoulders rounding in a slump. His eyes close tight, his fingers digging deep into the damp sand as he braces himself on the ground. 

The thick, suffocating terror he felt on Outbreak Day comes back to him easily, a different version of the same brand of helplessness he felt on the day Sarah was born. The same as what he feels now, he feels his chest tighten and constrict, his breathing getting shallower and shallower. 

No. 

Fighting against it, he shakes himself from the reverie of images: blood, pain, anguish, sobbing. An intensely feral need rises like bile; an urge to burn the world to the ground while screaming just to make sure nothing touches what is his. 

Useful to no one if he lets it take over, he pushes it all away. Practiced in remaining calm under pressure, he takes a deep breath, focusing on the water. 

In and out, in and out, timing each breath with the gentle lap of waves along the shore. 

He speaks silent affirmations to himself - prayers, if he was still a praying man. 

He can do this. He won’t fail. He can’t. 

Gathering himself, he stands. 

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, stepping back into the cabin. Shutting the door tight to keep out the spring chill, he sets the pails of water next to the wood stove and comes to sit next to you on the couch. 

“Yea, I’m good.” A grimace of pain flits across your face for a split second, and he shifts to make room for you as you recline on the couch. Grabbing the blanket from across the back, he settles it over you. 

“I think I should try to get some rest, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep.” Even as you say the words, a yawn breaks through. 

“You’ll probably need it. Might not be a bad idea, ‘specially if you can sleep through some of the pain.” He rifles through the mix of bottles in front of you on the coffee table, placed there earlier by himself. “I don’t have anything stronger than ibuprofen,” he says apologetically. “But you can have some if you want?”

You wave it away, sliding down on the couch to try and get comfortable. “No, it’s okay. I can do without it for now. It’s not so bad.”

He moves to give you room, and your hand reaches for his, holding it tight. 

“Stay with me? I don’t want to be alone when I wake up.”

The open vulnerability on your face pulls him in, the small way in which you ask breaking open his chest, and he immediately sits back, tugging your feet onto his lap. 

“Of course, honey. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

He smoothes over the arches of your small socked feet, letting go when you curl them together, clearly a means to comfort yourself. He instead rests his hand on your shin in a reassuring hold, and watching your eyes flutter shut as your breathing deepens and slows, his veil of control stays in place while his mind begins to free fall. 

Panic, guilt, nervous anticipation, panic. 

Again he resists, using the warmth of your shin as an anchor. 

He’s quiet: sitting with you for a bit, reading a little before giving up, double checking the supplies on the table. Making sure the bed in your old room is covered with a tarp from the shed, some old quilts piled on top of it. 

Pacing until he wills himself to stop. 

His eyes flick over to you every time he sees you shift in your sleep: your hand coming to rest on your belly, rubbing the underside with a fleeting wince of pain. He watches, and wishes he could take this all from you: every twinge of pain, everything that’s about to come. 

The guilt he feels at being responsible for putting you in this position is something he thought he made peace with a while ago, but it flares bright with every small frown between your brows and when you wake with a soft whine of discomfort, he strides to your side immediately, helping you sit up. 

Your pained sound grows louder, both of your hands splaying over the source as you clench your jaw, and feeling helpless, he does what he can, rubbing broad circles over your back. 

“I’m right here, honey. I’m right here.”

You seem to give into his touch, leaning against it for strength and your fingers dig into the meat of his thigh as you ride it out. 

He keeps rubbing, and the next few hours pass much the same: waiting and pain. 

–

“Can you hand me that rag?”

The bed dips with his weight as he sits next to you, and wringing out the damp scrap of fabric in his hands, he runs it along your hairline. 

“I can do it,” you protest, no real fight in the words as your eyes slip shut.

“I got it.”

You feel as wrung out as that rag, exhausted yet unable to rest. Keyed up with adrenaline, you’re trying to let your body take over and not fight every single contraction, but it’s hard - so hard. Each one wracks your body with a tight, seemingly endless crest of pain that steals the air from your lungs and makes it hard to breathe, forcing you to struggle on instinct alone.

He swipes the fabric along the bridge of your nose, gently guiding your face to the side so he can collect the sweat dusted across your cheeks. You focus on the delicate drag of the cloth, letting your body relax. 

“Thank you.”

Not for the first time, he looks at his watch as if it still worked and then immediately away, directing his gaze out the window. 

“Seems like they’re getting closer,” he remarks, his hand coming to rest on the hard swell of your stomach. “Does it feel like it?”

“I honestly…I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track.”

He nods and then leaves the room, coming back with a pencil and paper. 

“It’s late. ‘Round four, I think, so you’ve been at it about twelve hours. Let me know when the next one starts, and I’ll count it out. I’ll keep track on here.”

He sets the paper down on the bedside table, his hand poised to begin making a chart and you rest your hold on top of his. 

“I think…” you lick your dry lips, swallowing. “I think we just go with it. I feel like I’ll know when it’s time?”

If you don’t officially keep track of the time between them, you won’t officially know when it’s time to push but…something about it seems right to you, given the way you’ve learned to live without structured time. 

That, and without an official “start time”, you can force your nerves to the bottom of your mind, delaying inevitable pain. Even if only for a little longer. 

The stern look he gives you in response tells you how he feels about that answer, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s not just about knowin’ when it’s time. It’s about knowin’ when it’s been too long.”

His logic wins over your fear, and a weighted silence lingers between the two of you. Not wanting to acknowledge what that would mean, you let his hand go and curl onto your side. Facing him, you let him know when the next contraction starts, and while he sets his pencil down to hold your hand, you watch his lips move with silent counts. 

–

You just… let your body take over. 

Existing in a plane of never ending cresting waves of crippling pain that come closer and closer together, you squeeze his hand just as tight as you squeeze your eyes shut with every single one. The fight inside of you fades, instinct ruling instead and needing to have faith in your body to do the right thing without any knowledge to guide you, you just…give in. 

You should be terrified at the prospect of it, but you can’t seem to find the strength to care. Your body was built for this, designed for this, has done this very thing billions of times over throughout human existence and giving yourself over to that idea, you find yourself comforted, in a way.

You do what it tells you to do: take deep breaths when you can, curl onto your side into a tight ball when you need to, let tears fall freely from your eyes without embarrassment. You writhe and shift on the bed into whatever position feels comfortable, giving into the instinctual need to seek comfort at whatever cost. 

Daylight shifts into twilight shifts into nightfall, and he’s with you throughout the whole thing, as steadfast as he’s always been. 

At your side, like he’s always been. 

There, like he’s always been. 

With his reassuring presence beside you, you descend into a base version of yourself with his hand an anchor. 

–

A quiet, formidable strength greater than the brute type he’s capable of emerges, and Joel watches as you close your eyes and draw on resources he didn’t know your body still had. 

Underrated and overlooked in terms of survival, you may not have the physical skills he has but your internal strength and will to survive through hope and optimism are more valuable than his skills right now. Awestruck by the shift that happens before him, he wonders if that’s what's always subconsciously drawn him to you: this innate sense that you’ll fill in his blanks, bringing him a sense of peace when his life has known anything but. 

You take his weaknesses and mold them into something good instead of a liability, meeting them with strengths of your own. He is responsible for so many things when it comes to you: your life, your well being, your survival. Seeing you now, taking charge of every one of those things with a fierce strength that outmatches anything he can provide in this situation, he not only understands that you have his back just as much, but also that you’ve always had it.  

Two halves of a whole, your faith and his competence.

An equal partner, whose qualities shine bright in their quiet, unassuming way. 

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, you prop yourself up against the headboard of the bed with a low groan and tell him when you’re ready. 

“I think it’s time.” 

You barely get the words out before you’re bearing down in taut silence, your jaw clenched and he shifts on the bed, his hands molding over your knees to gently pull them apart. 

“Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”

–

His voice calls to you from the depths of your pain, the sound of it muffled behind the blood rushing in your ears and you use it like a beacon, something to focus on. The contractions one on top of another, it’s well past dark outside the cabin when everything seems to happen all at once:

A dark, wet patch of hair emerging; Joel’s eyes widening as his fingers tentatively reach out to touch it. 

A sob catching in your throat; fluid soaking the blanket underneath you. 

Pain so fierce and overwhelming it makes you lightheaded; a pressure so blindingly sharp and heavy and full that you scream before it abruptly stops, everything sliding out in a slick rush. 

“You did it, honey,” he praises you, his head down as he cradles the baby in his hands. “You did it. She’s out.”

She. The sobs you let out are involuntary, a mixture of immense relief and joy paired with the crash of adrenaline and your limbs shake with exhaustion, your head falling back into the pillow he’s propped beneath your head.

It’s only then that the silence in the room comes to your attention. 

“Joel?” You wearily push yourself up, trying to see her. 

He’s looking down at the mattress with a deep frown of focus, his skin ashen and gray and your stomach bottoms out, panic flooding your chest. Limited as your knowledge is about babies, you know you should be hearing her make a sound right now. Any sound. 

“Why isn’t she crying?” you ask, a slight tremble catching the end of the sentence. 

He doesn’t answer you, instead staying focused on her, his hands smeared and glistening with blood as one splays over her impossibly tiny chest, his fingers rubbing along the dip of her sternum. 

“Come on. Come on.” 

His words have a frantic edge to them, one you can hear even with how he’s murmuring the near silent chant to himself and you mirror it, doing the same. 

“Come on, baby. Come on.”

A thin whimper breaks the tense silence, her limbs suddenly flaring out in a silent fight against the world, and her timid cry blooms into a bright wail that pierces the air. 

Relief floods out of you in sob, his own breaking free in the rush of a heavy exhale, and when he scoops her up, unshed tears glisten in his eyes. Handing her wet body to you, she’s matted and smeared with blood and slick, and she squirms on your bare chest for a moment, your arms automatically cradling her close. 

Impossible tiny, just like he said. 

“A she.” Your voice thick with tears, you look up at him and he grins down at you, his smile shining bright with pride. 

“A she.”

Your cheek comes to rest on the crown of her head when he bends to press a kiss to your forehead and his murmurs against the sweat damp skin there make you cry even more. 

“You did it, my girl. You did it.”

–

A slight tremble to his hands as he finishes tying off the umbilical cord, he gently hands her back to you and reaches for the bucket near the side of the bed. 

“I’m gonna go empty this, but I’ll be right back.”

You acknowledge him, your arms tightening in their hold on her as you scoot back in your bed. Tucked safely against your chest, she’s already sliding into sleep and you join her, closing your eyes. Fixing the blanket around you, he picks up the bucket and leaves the room. 

Night darkens the path as he makes his way down to the water, the setting around him awash in muted colors. Animals moving in their quest to hunt for the night, the fresh spring breeze rustles the new growth on the trees that surround him, but he sees and hears none of it, his vision beginning to tunnel. 

Black gathers around the edges of the world, the basin in his hands falling onto the grass. His boots sinking into the sand, he barely makes it to the bank before he’s buckling, knees hitting the soft ground. 

The image of the two of you sleeping flashes through his mind, and the pressure in his chest swells and overcomes him, emotion choking his airway. The intensity of the last twenty four hours seeps out of him, the image of her still body as he rubbed life into her fixed behind his clenched shut eyes and finally - finally - he lets it go with big, wracking sobs that pour out, a sound he tries to muffle with his hands. 

Relief, relief. 

–

June Miller. 

A basin of warm water between the two of you on the bed, you watch as he cradles her endlessly moving body in his large hands and bathes her. Her limbs stretch and flex slowly, testing their newfound boundaries and not being able to decide on which face you want to look at more, you shift your gaze back and forth between her scrunched one and his more focused, intent one. He’s careful yet steady with his movements, the gentle splash of water the backdrop to the tiny squawks of protest she lets out. 

The lantern illuminates them, a circle of light surrounding their figures in an intensely intimate way and you watch glistening drops of water slide down over his thick wrist as he cups some, pouring it over her hair. 

“I know you don’t like it. I know.”

It’s innate, his soothing. 

Second nature from the first time he held her and spoke to her, you could tell he’d done this before. His body curled protectively around her as he held her to his broad chest, his movements practiced and confident and you watched as it happened without him even realizing, like he didn’t have to think about caring for someone else - just doing it, as if he couldn’t help it. 

Finishing bathing her with the fresh basin of water he brought back from the river, she keeps her eyes closed against the light of the world as he sets her in her cradle, turning to help you from the bed. You brace your hand on his solid shoulder as he kneels, exhaustion thickly blanketing your body as you feel soothing, firm wipes of wet warmth on your skin. He’s just as careful and detailed with it as he was with her, and after he dries and settles you in the bedroom you share with him, he crawls in after you, closing his eyes. 

Dawn is breaking when you wake to the sound of a restless, small cry and you leave him sleeping when you go to grab her, bringing her back to bed. Brushing aside the soft blanket that covers her cheek, you look down and see two dark eyes blinking back up at you. Shaped just like his, they stay open. 

You want to wake him because it feels…significant, this moment. She’s tiny — dark eyes, a button nose, a dot of a mouth and full little cheeks. Her eyes are open and so are yours and the two of you sit there and just — look. Basking in the strange sensation of silently learning each other, yet knowing each other so well already. 

You remember what Joel said, about you and them and the peaceful stillness of sitting in the quiet and your vision waters, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. More joy than you’ve felt in your whole life, the emotion is overwhelming - as if a beacon of pure, unfiltered light has flooded your entire body, lighting you from the inside out. 

She keeps looking, her tiny brow scrunching and you smile down at her, another tear sliding free. 

“Joel,” you whisper, and he’s up in an instant. 

“Yea?”

It takes you a minute to speak, and his face shifts into alarm.

“What’s the matter? She okay?”

He sits up quickly, scooting closer to see her more clearly. 

“Yea,” you reply, sniffing. “Look at her.”

She looks like you, like him, like her own self and you can’t stop looking at her, trying to find fleeting traces of every version. 

Mesmerized, he strokes the soft back of her tiny hand over and over with his thumb, and his voice is a low gravel, full of soothing adoration.

“Hey, baby girl.”

[devildomditzy]

"Wait, am I your lock screen?" + mammon + 🫣⛈️

His habit of keeping his phone away from you an out of your reach was one you mildly questioned, but ultimately learned to ignore. You figured the second born had something he wanted to keep private, possibly his latest failing stocks, or demanding texts from witches looking for compensation for his less than savory activities.

You ignored it, up until you turned to corner into the student council room, ears picking up several voices loudly talking over each other. Knowing this can only mean one thing, you prepare yourself to become Mammon’s attorney before walking in yourself.

“Ooo my! If it isn’t the person of the hour!”, Asmo coos from his chair, leaning over the edge of the table. “We were just talking about you, hun!”

“Talking about me?”, you ask, eyes circling around the room in both curiosity and confusion. You lock eyes with your first pact mate to ask a silent question, only to find him blushing furiously, attempting to simmer down from something that had just clearly upset him. He locks eyes with you for a brief moment before quickly averting his gaze.

Well, that’s typical. What wasn’t typical was the teasing stares of everyone else in the room, now centered on you.

“Well, we were just finishing up a student council meeting,”Asmo continues. “And you know how Lucifer always takes our D.D.D.’s before hand?”

“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with me?”

“Getting there, darling!”

You once again shift your eyes over to Mammon, who seemed to be having an internal battle with himself. One minute, it looked like he was going to bolt out of the room, the next it seemed he was so frustrated with his brothers that he was choosing to stand his ground.

“Lucifer starting passing them back out afterwards, and I noticed the cutest thing displaying on my dear older brother’s phone!”, Asmo finishes, bringing his cupped hands up to his face, almost as if he was looking at a newborn kitten.

“ROLF, this is super normie of him”, Levi chimes in, not looking up from his game, but still smiling to himself like he had just been told the funniest joke.

“I have to say, I know how idiotic you can be, but I didn’t expect you to display something you vehemently try to hide so prominently.” The smirk on Satan’s face makes you feel uneasy.

You hear a distinct tch come from the direction of the second born, who you now notice was clutching his D.D.D very close to his chest, with his grip tight around it. Like, real tight. Like, his knuckles are going white and you think he might break it tight.

Your eyes jump from brother to brother in confusion. “What are you talking about?”.

Asmo’s grin becomes lethal as he turns back to Mammon. “Weeelllll, go on Mammon. Do you want to tell them, or shall I?”.

You watch as Mammon turns redder somehow, if that was even possible, and starts to stutter. “I-it’s none of your business, okay?”

“Ooohh I beg to differ! I’d think a picture of our dear, dear MC is specifically their business!”, Asmo taunts in a sing song voice.

“A picture of me.. did you like, take an embarrassing picture of me or something?”, you question. Honestly, as much as you love the idiot, you wouldn’t put it above Mammon to blackmail you with an unflattering photo of yourself.

“N-no! It’s not you! I-I mean it is you but it’s not embarrassin’ or anythin’!”.

Oh the poor boy, he looks like he’s going to combust.

“Tick tock!”, Asmo once again pressures him to spit it out.

Mammon shuts his eyes as tight as they can go, and takes a deep breath, opening his mouth to say it before anyone else can-

Beel pipes up from where he’s been quietly munching on some hell newt chips.

“Why does it matter if MC’s his lockscreen?”

Ah. There it is. You watch all the color drain from Mammon’s face. He tenses up, his body language screaming ‘panic’.

“Wait, am I your lockscreen”, you question, hoping he notices your voice doesn’t hold an ounce of teasing, but instead genuine fondness.

His eyes remain trained on the table, his mouth drawn into a tight line, but he stiffly shakes his head in a confirming nod.

“Can I see?”

Mammon slides his D.D.D across the table to where you stand. Clicking on the screen, you see picture of yourself at Devil’s Coast. You’re turned to the side, not quite looking at the camera, but laughing brightly at something. The ferris wheel framed in the background of the shot makes the candid look like something out of a movie. Then it hits you - you’ve. never seen this picture before.

He must have taken it when you weren’t looking.

As laughter erupts throughout the room from his brothers, he’s shocked to not hear yours mixed in with the cacophony l. Instead when you speak, it makes the room go dead silent.

“Mammon… that is so sweet!”, and he can hear the smile in your voice as you run around the table to hand him your own. “Here, look at mine.”

He hesitates for a second, looking up at you for confirmation before taking it. Clicking on the screen, he stares back at a picture of himself. He’s in one of the outfits he wore for Devil Style, so this is definitely from his last shoot, but… this wasn’t professional by any means. It was clearly taken by you, a little shaky and a bit out of center frame, but you must have snapped a picture of him between sets.

And even more so - he’s shirtless in it.

“Ha…HA!”, Mammon exclaims, proudly showing the screen to each and everyone of his brothers. “See that? Of course MC’s got a picture of The Great Mammon as their lockscreen! Makes sense since I’m their first and their favorite!”

“Uggghh, gross”, groans Levi as he stands up to leave, “I knew I should have just went to my room.”

“Aww, MC, why not a picture of me?!”, whines Asmo as he drapes himself over your shoulders, much to Mammon’s annoyance.

“I can’t say that’s a sight I’d want see every time I have to take a phone call”, Satan says all snide and - you’ve had it.

Time to shut them all up.

“Of course I’d want a picture of Mammon as my lock screen. He is my boyfriend after all.”

“WHAT!?”, you hear all the voices in the room cry out at once.

“I am? I-I mean, of course I am! Ya hear that? MC’s taken by The Great Mammon! So all of ya better back off, ya got it?!”

You giggle at his bravado and the looks of disgust and disappointment on the remaining faces in the room, leaning down to kiss his cheek to really drive the point home.

Oh. Looks like he can get redder.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Good enough to Eat

Licking CW: bound reader, abduction, body worship (receiving), teasing, drugging, dub-con, body image issues

The reflection in the mirror glared at their body, turning in circles to fully appreciate how bad they looked in this outfit. It was such a stereotypical thing to do that (Reader) felt ashamed, but that didn't stop them, not when their skin was squishing out over the top of their jeans. Their best friend was waiting in the living room for them to hurry up, but every shirt they put on laid weird on their body, even their favorite band tee. It was just going to be one of those days.

(Reader) left the bathroom mopey, struggling to look happy. Their attempt failed completely when Vince pulled out his phone to take a picture of them.

"Not today V."

"What? Why?! We never get to hang out anymore, and I want some pictures of us." The man whined, jokingly pouting to hide his real disappointment.

"I'm just..." (Reader) tugged on their shirt subconsciously, "not feeling it."

Vince's eyes narrowed, his joking demeanor fading into an empty glare (Reader) had never seen before, worrying them. "I can't do this. I wanted to do this the right way, but you're pissing me off."

Before (Reader) could question their friend he shoved his fingers into their mouth, pressing a bitter tasting pill into their throat and forcing it down. They tried to jump back, but Vince held (Reader's) head, clasping their mouth shut until they swallowed and holding them still until it kicked in. First their muscles grew heavy, then (Reader) couldn't hold their eyes open, collapsing into Vince's arms.

(Reader) woke up hours later, completely naked and hands chained to the ceiling above them, arms twisted in an angle where they couldn't pull up and dangling just high enough for their toes to touch the floor. In the dark of the cellar, Vince stood in front of (Reader) with his arms crossed, a disappointed look on his handsome face.

"Vince? Where am I...?"

"Mmm.. my house." Vince was uncharacteristically upset, his voice cold and eyes weary with frustration.

"Why-?"

"You know, I had this whole date planned out for us. I was finally going to confess to you." He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "But you're so damn insecure, I know if I told you today that I've been in love with you for the past seven years you wouldn't have believed me."

A strange ache stabbed into (Reader's) heart; a conflicting mixture of his congestion causing it to skip a beat and pain from their anxiety. He was right, they didn't deserve his love. Ignoring the fact that he had just kidnapped them, Vince was the most attractive man (Reader) had ever seen off the big screen.

"Vince, I-"

"So, before I officially confess to you, I need you feeling better about yourself, so you accept me." Vince walked over, a sick smile creeping over his features. "You are so fucking beautiful. I've never met anyone as sexy as you."

"Vince, I'm sorry... If you let me go we can pretend like this never happened.."

He cocked his head. "Why would I want to do that? I finally have you all to myself, and you want me to pretend like I've never had the privilege to see you like this?"

(Reader) sniffled, ashamed, both by how exposed they were and by his sweet talking. "Please stop-"

"You don't believe me.. That really hurts my feelings, (Reader). It was bad enough hearing you criticize the person I love all the goddamn time, but even now you're looking at me like I'm a liar." He pressed his nose against their cheek, inhaling their scent. "Which is so unfair, when you look good enough to eat."

His sharp canines bit into (Reader's) neck as his rough hands caressed their body, rubbing their chest and the spot between their shoulder blades. (Reader) cried out, both in surprise and from pain, before squirming in discomfort as he ran his tongue over his teeth marks.

Vince seemed to enjoy the reaction he got from licking (Reader's) neck, because he moved down, chasing the shivers he was sending down their body. His calloused palms gripped (Reader's) flesh, digging his fingers into their soft body selfishly. His hot muscle left wet trails down (Reader's) goosebumps, greedily tasting their body.

He left hickies from his sucking and biting, bruising their nipples from enthusiasm. Every time he latched on it was hard enough to draw blood, but was quick to soothe the stinging with kisses, cleaning the red droplets with his tongue. Vince ignored (Reader's) pleas and whines, enraptured by the taste he had dreamt of for so long.

"You are so beautiful.." He groaned dreamily, pawing at himself through his pants as he planted butterfly kisses down to (Reader's) hip, turned on by their shudders under his feather soft touches. Sliding into his knees, Vince gazed up at (Reader) with lust. "Please say that you believe me now."

"Vince.." (Reader) was torn between their embarrassment and how good they felt.

His lips attached to their sensitive skin right next to their groin, tickling them. The area was so sensitive to the touch that they arched their spine to get their pelvis away from the teasing kisses, but lost their footing, rocking back into Vince's face.

The man continued licking and kissing everywhere but (Reader's) genitalia, encouraged by their responsiveness. He wouldn't gift them release, not until they felt have much he craved their body.

"Do you believe me now?" His heavy panting against their skin was almost as unbearable as his spider light brushing.

Desperate to be let down, (Reader) whined "Yes! I believe you.."

"Does that mean you'll let me be your man?" Another kiss, closer towards their painful arousal. (Reader's) thighs quivered and butterflies erupted in their belly.

"Yes!"

"Because you know that I love you?" The fluid leaking down (Reader's) leg was licked off hungrily.

"God, yes!"

"And you love me too?"

"Yes! I love you, I love you too, Vince!"

As soon as he got his confirmation, (Reader's) legs were draped over his shoulders.

(Reader's) toes curled as Vince's tongue swirled around their most delicate parts, drinking in their essence. His mouth devoured (Reader), crushing his face with their pelvis, pulling them harder into his jaw, hands on their buttocks pushing them in.

"Vince, I'm gonna cum.." (Reader) pathetically whimpered, feeling his tongue fuck them faster.

A wave a shame followed their climax, insecure suddenly over their orgasm. But that brief thought immediately dissipated as Vince didn't stop, taking all of their juices and continuing his assault on their sensitive nerves, pushing them past the point of pleasure. Tears poured from (Reader's) eyes as they tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.

But Vince continued until he came, pulling away to breathe as he moaned out, staining his jeans. His face returned to the kind looking Vince (Reader) knew and adored, smiling up at (Reader) sweetly as though he hadn't just abducted and assaulted (Reader).

"Thank you for accepting my feelings, gorgeous."

[cxrsed-angel]

Cheer Skirt Misap: Hazel Callahan x Reader Smut

word count: 1k

summary: Hazel finds your new cheer uniform attractive. Particularly the skirt and how short it is.

Warnings: Oral (r receiving), Hazel is an ass girl, slight spanking, hazel doing sexual activities when’s she probably shouldn’t be. After that fight. Reader is more feminine. 18+ MDNI

A/N: I watch bottoms 2 months ago and i haven’t stopped thinking about her and ruby cruz since, so here’s this. Also reader is a cheerleader. I wish I could come up with a clever title. Also Hazel gives me service top vibes.

Hazel is sitting on your bed. She’s trying to listen to whatever you are talking about, but she can’t focus on anything besides how hot you look in your new cheer skirt. The skirt is white with blue and red on the bottom, falling just above your thigh. You had gotten the new uniforms for the big game against Huntington. She watches you move around your room, getting ready for the game, her eyes lingering on your legs and how short the new cheer skirt seemed compared to the old ones. 

“Pj was such a dick the other day. I mean, saying that about your mom was so out of line, babe, and I mean, you didn’t make a fake fight club to have sex with cheerleaders. You actually cared about female solidarity and everything. And you’re literally dating a cheerleader on your own accord without lying-“

You pause your rant about PJ, turn around, and see Hazel sitting in your bed, staring at the lower half of your body. It’s clear she isn’t paying attention. You walk closer to your bed and see her bruised face from the fight at the pep rally. You frown, knowing she probably had some sort of concussion that was making it hard to focus.

“Hazel? Hazel, are you okay…do you need to lie down? Am I talking too fast?”

Hazel looks up at you with her blue eyes bruised black and purple, but they’re still big and bright as she looks at you. 

“I-um, no, I was just thinking about something else.” 

You sit beside her on your bed, your thighs touching hers in her black jeans. Hazel's eyes linger on your upper thighs again before tearing her eyes away. She feels her heart beating faster in her chest, trying not to stare at your legs, trying to ignore the ache in between her thighs. She feels a bit guilty being so turned on as you look at her, so worried and concerned. 

“Oh? Thinking about what?” You see Hazel look a bit flustered at your question, and you relax a bit. You could tell it wasn't something bad, but you were still intrigued about what was on her mind. 

“Um. I was just thinking about you and how you look cute in your cheer skirt,” she tells you the truth partially, slightly nervous and embarrassed to admit that your skirt had turned her on so much. 

You smile at the compliment. “Oh, thanks, babe! We got new cheer uniforms since it's like the biggest game ever, but they are a bit shorter.” You get off your bed and look at the skirt through your mirror. It’s a few inches shorter than your usual cheer skirt. You thought you got the wrong size at first, but they just ended up being that short. “I'm glad we were shorts underneath, or I would literally flash the crowd.” 

Hazel smiles, laughing a bit at your comment, eyes still gazing at your lower half. “Well, it looks really good on you. Maybe shorter skirts make you more aerodynamic, help you fly up higher or something.” 

 Hazel suggests innocently when she knows thats probably not the reason your skirt is so short it's almost showing your ass considering your team’s pep rally performance.  You laugh a bit, smiling at her reasoning. 

“I really don't think that’s the reason, baby.” 

She toys with the bottom of your skirt lightly as she continues. “No, I think it is! Maybe it could help with the-the air and going up and-and flips and stuff because there less..fabric?” 

Hazle tries to justify but fails, making you laugh more. You find her attempt cute, though. Her blue eyes linger on your thighs again, gazing at them before she pulls you onto her lap by your hips, quickly kissing your lip-glossed lips suddenly. You suck in a sharp breath at the unexpected kiss, closing your eyes and melting against her the familiar feeling of her lips. You feel Hazel’s hands grasp your hips tighter as she kisses your lips, pressing against each other. Your arms go around her neck.

You break apart from the kiss slightly, looking at the playful smile on her lips and her face flushed and red, her eyes wide as she looks back. You can tell she’s turned on, and if her gaze didn’t give it away, her hands creeping up under the skirt did. 

“You’re really happy over these aerodynamic skirts, huh?” you smile at her, knowing that was not the reason she couldn’t keep her hands off you. You could tell it was because of how the shorts showed off your legs and a bit of your ass. 

Hazel pulls you against her passionately. Your lips crash together, kissing you again. She pulls you by your hips back on top of her. You feel her hands lightly moving down your back. She can’t keep her hands off of you, but you move your lips off slowly as you realize how things are progressing. You stare at Hazel, hesitant when you remember.  

“Hazel…are you sure you can do…more strenuous activities? You know you were beat up pretty badly, babe.” you look concerned as you sit up, moving off of her. You move off from on top of her and sit back on your bed. 

She nods excitedly like there is no problem, like she didn’t get the shit kicked out of her the other day and is perfectly okay. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s fine. I’m like almost 100% better anyways.” Hazel tries to sound sure, but you can tell she isn’t. You nod, still not fully unconvinced. You saw the fight and know she had taken quite a beating, and the last thing you wanna do is make it worse by having sex. 

You pause, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “Babe, I really don’t think we should be doing anything. Plus, we have to be at the football game in like an hour.” Hazel nods, pouting her lip a bit as she thinks. You watch her fidget with her silver rings as she thinks of a solution, clearly not taking no for an answer. 

“Oh! Wait, wait, I got it.” Hazel looks excited, her blue eyes excited. She lays down on your bed. “I’ll just eat you out.” You pause, thinking for a few minutes about her solution,  

“I don’t know Hazel…what about you-”

 She cuts you off, hungrily kissing your lips as they press against hers. She cups your cheek and slips her tongue in your mouth. You melt instantly, feeling that warm feeling you get every time you kiss. After making out for a few minutes, you feel her pull away, your head a bit dizzy from the kiss.

“Please let me eat your pretty pussy. I promise I’ll be fine,” Hazel begs as she looks at you, slowly rubbing circles on your hips. Her words go straight to your core, turning you on.  

You look at her and give in, unable to resist her big blue eyes. “Fine, but you’re stopping the second you get dizzy or something feels off.” Hazel nods as her grip on your waist tightens as she looks up at you excitedly. 

She pulls your black lacey underwear from under your cheer skirt and throws them somewhere off in your room. You lean down and cup her face with her face, your lips crushing onto hers again, making out. Hazel moves her hands down, lightly squeezing your ass. Her lips linger, touching against yours as she looks up at you. 

You move, placing your hips over her face. You look at her as she stares back excitedly. You slowly lower yourself on her lips and waste no time licking around your wet and puffy folds. She licks along your lips slowly, and you gasp at the feeling of her tongue. She continues moving her tongue as you try to hold your hips, trying not to thrust them, Hazel’s injuries still in the back of your mind. You moan out her name as she sucks on your clit. 

“Fuck Hazel, please don't stop.” you close your eyes, grabbing the side of her sheets and slowly rolling your hips against her lips. 

She grips your ass under your cheer skirt, squeezing it. Her tongue slips inside your entrance, and your moan grows louder as her motions speed up slightly, eating you out like she’s starved. Your face grows hotter as you feel the arousal building; you feel yourself getting wetter under her touch. She places a smack on your ass, and you moan, not expecting to like it as much as you did.  

“Fuck, baby! I'm close!-yes, right there! Fuck Hazel!” 

Your back arch letting out a breathy moan as your orgasm gets closer. You thrust, moving your hips faster as she swirls her tongue around your swollen clit. You feel yourself coming undone as your orgasm hits. Cumming around Hazel’s lips. You breathe deeply and slowly move from on top of her, sitting in your bed. Hazel sits up, her chin wet and lips swollen. 

You look at her, wiping your wetness off her lips. “How do you feel? Are you dizzy, or do you have a headache?” 

Hazel smiles and shakes her head. You nod, still catching your breath. You feel her hand on your thigh, rubbing it softly, feeling her cold rings on your skin. 

“Yes, I’m fine; never been better.” She beams, happy from her previous activities. You kiss her lightly before standing up to finish getting ready for the game against Huntington. Hazel leans against her arms, watching you in your bed. 

“But after I feel better, I’m gonna have to fuck you in that skirt.” you turn around at her words, a bit shocked at how bluntly she put it. 

“Oh? You are. And eating me out while I'm wearing it isn't enough?” Hazel shakes her head lightly. 

“No. I mean, it's good enough for right now, but the thought of watching you bounce on my strap in that cute little skirt is making me feel a bit foggy and extremely turned on.” 

You nod as you return to putting on your makeup for the game. “Well, get a doctor’s note, and we can make that happen.”  

[cloudlunae]

watch those hands

✮⋆˙ prompt hsr characters and their hand placement

✮⋆˙ characters blade, dan heng, welt

✮⋆˙ a/n i had to take like fifteen breaks during this because i kept kicking and screaming (well except welt's, his just made me sad LMAO)

blade - rubbing his thumbs over your waist

after an exhausting battle with some cloud knight soldiers, you and the rest of the stellaron hunters slip into a nearby alley to catch your breath

you in particular experienced the brunt of the fight, so it took you a bit longer to recover compared to your companions

as you struggled to get your breathing under control, hands resting on your knees, you sensed an intimidating yet comforting presence come up behind you

warm hands snake their way up your hips, stopping right at your waistline where a sliver of skin appears

you stood up in surprise, not expecting the sudden warmth, but the person behind you gently began to rub their thumb over the exposed skin

"take your time," blade mumbles. "we're in no rush."

out of the corner of your eye, you spot kafka staring at the two of you, the corner of her lips turned up into a half smile half smirk

immediately you felt the heat bombard your cheeks and instinctively try to pull yourself out of blade's hold

only for your attempt to be rendered futile as his hold tightens on your waist, practically gluing you to the spot

blade steps even closer so that there was no space in between the two of you, and you could feel his chest meet your back

"what's wrong?" he whispers gruffly. his breath fans over the back of your neck and you shiver unconsciously, failing to catch the slight twitch of blade's lips

"kafka's watching," you say. "are you sure this is the right time to—"

"the more you worry about kafka, the less time you have to recover. quit focusing on what's not important and focus on yourself," blade interrupts sharply, the tone of his words heavily contrasting to his tender actions

blade was never usually this affectionate in public, especially not around kafka or silver wolf, so you relented and decided to relish in this rare opportunity, knowing that it won't present itself again for a while

so with a sigh, you allow your body to relax and practically melt into his

blade hums approvingly and his arms snake even tighter around your waist, stopping right above your belly button

dan heng - cupping your cheeks with his hands

you and the others from the astral express decided to visit belobog after receiving an invitation from bronya to attend the solwarm festival

once you arrived at the administrative district, you immediately split into groups with welt and himeko heading for the museum first and march dragging the trailblazer to listen to serval's performance, leaving you and dan heng alone together

smiling brightly, you grab his wrist and lead him towards one of the food stands, ignoring the quiet snort leaving his lips

the vendor is selling a popular belobog dessert and of course you couldn't pass up the opportunity to purchase one for yourself

dan heng finds a table nearby where the two of you sit and enjoy your sweet treats, all whilst watching the festival take place around you

however you were too focused on everything else but yourself that you failed to notice the dollop of frosting on the corner of your lip

that is until dan heng comes into view, his face shockingly close to yours—so close you could see the details of his eyes, nose, and lips

"dan heng what are you—" your voice trails off when both of his hands come up to cup

"hang on, there's something on your face," he mumbles, his thumb wiping away the frosting

you gulp, eyes darting anywhere else but at the man in front of you

moments pass and dan heng's hands are still on your face

you clear your throat. "uh, you can let go now dan heng."

his eyes flicker and you could've sworn you saw a flash of mischief before he brings his face even closer

your breath gets caught in your throat and the heat you felt on your face begins to spread all over your body

dan heng sends you a gentle smile before he pulls away and goes back to eating his dessert, blissfully unaware of the impact he just had on you

you sit there shell-shocked, hands trembling as you set your plate down and attempt to compose yourself

welt - holding your head against his neck

he's always been a pillar of support, especially for those on the astral express

everyone sort of relies on him due to his experience and wisdom, as well as his comforting nature so if someone is ever in need of support, they go to welt first—and you weren't an exception

just moments ago, you arrived back at the express along with dan heng and march, the former immediately hiding himself away in his room and the former running off to look for himeko

leaving you standing all on your own in the parlor car

you make your way over to one of the seats and sit yourself down, trying your hardest not to break down

this mission was a difficult one for you, both physically and emotionally

wordlessly, you take out your phone, sending a quick message to the person you needed the most in that moment and waited patiently

not even two seconds later, welt appears and kneels in front of you, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he bows his head to look at your face

you bring your gaze up to his and the moment your eyes meet, the dam breaks and you can't stop the sob from escaping your lips as your body falls forward into welt's awaiting arms

he falls back onto his bottom, encasing you in his hold as your body shakes

his hand comes up to the back of your head, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as his other hand wraps around your lower back

you can feel his fingers softly massaging your neck and you burrow even deeper into his shoulder

he doesn't ask what happened, not yet, and allows you to pour out your emotions, ignoring the warm tears dripping down his collarbone and seeping into his shirt

he refuses to loosen his hold for even a moment, worried that you would fall apart if he did

so he remains there on the floor of the parlor car, content with staying there as long as you wanted, even if it meant hours

[illusioninfnty]

day 20 ; cock worship

↠ rafe cameron x reader

fandom: outer banks word count: 1.5k warnings: nsfw 18+, lots of dirty talk, mean!rafe, degradation, intoxicated sex, blowjob, possessiveness, maybe ooc rafe bc i have not actually seen the show

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

It was no secret to your closest friends that whenever you drank at parties, you got really horny. Go figure that out of all of your insanely wild friends, you would be the one who gets utterly humiliated by grinding up on random people. It was why you always volunteered to be the designated driver. Yet you couldn’t help but admit that the payoff was sometimes worth it.

But of course, one can never say no to Rafe Cameron. Your boyfriend had yet to see what you were like when you were drunk, and that only happened once he convinced one of your friends to steal your keys and give you more than a single drink.

“You taste so good, baby,” you whisper in Rafe’s ear, craning your neck to reach. The party at Topper’s house was probably at its peak, people from all over the island swarming the house in droves. But you don’t care about anyone else right now. You press sloppy kisses on your boyfriend’s neck, sucking hickeys in certain spots. Your hands run down his sides, stopping at his ass to give it a squeeze.

It was clear that your boyfriend also had quite a bit to drink, his cheeks were flushed and his always tense body had relaxed ever so slightly.

As your kisses get more heated and you begin to grind on him, Rafe raises an eyebrow and looks down at you, removing your wandering hands from his bottom and placing them higher on his waist. 

“What’s gotten into you?”

Your hands turn their focus to his chest, caressing it, and you look up at him with slow blinks as a sly smirk crosses your face.

“Hopefully you, later.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow at your comment, and he lets out a faint laugh. He pushes against you until your body is up against a kitchen cabinet away from most of the other party guests.

“You're acting like a little slut today, aren’t you?” He grasps you by the chin, forcing your gaze onto him. With his other hand he presses into your hip bone, forcing them to still. You whine at the loss of contact.

Perceptive as ever, Rafe notices your problem and sighs mockingly. “Guess I’m gonna have to treat you like one too.”

He pulls you out of the kitchen and up the staircase, ignoring the hoots and hollers of those who notice you two leaving.

He tugs you into the first room you come across—a bedroom, no surprise. It’s definitely not Topper's; the setup and color scheme is a simple pale beige, much too classy for a guy like him.

Rafe shuts the door behind you as you go to grab his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He stops you, grasping the back of your head to restrain you. 

“Baby,” you draw out as you lock your fingers behind his neck. “Let me make you feel good.” He shakes his head at your failed attempt to appease him.

“If you really want to make me feel good, then get on your knees.”

You eagerly comply.

Now eye level with his crotch, you can see the tent that was straining against his shorts. Without being prompted to, you push him down onto the bed as you begin to undo the button and zip on his cargo shorts and tear down his boxers. His hard cock bounces from its confines and you grasp it, practically drooling at the sight. Precum is already beading at the head, and you press a finger to it, pulling away to see it follow you in a long strand. Rafe moves his hand to the back of your head, guiding your motions.

“I’ve missed your cock,” you moan out. You trail kisses up and down the length, mimicking what you were doing to your boyfriend’s neck just minutes ago. Rafe hisses above you with the sudden contact, and you squeeze him ever so slightly. Your other hand trails to his balls, fondling them. “I’ve been missing these, too.”

Rafe’s hips jerk involuntarily. “Fuck baby, you’re always so good to me. You love my cock, don’t you?” As you glance up at him, you see that his eyes are already on you. They darken as they meet your own, and you could feel your cheeks heating up with the intensity of his stare. The sight of your boyfriend’s enjoyment makes you only want to pleasure him harder.

“I do,” you coo, giving the head of his cock a single, long lick, flattening your tongue on the surface. He groans and the grip he has on your hair tightens.

The sensation has your heart racing, and you moan loudly against Rafe’s cock, catching his attention. He sneers at you from above.

“I bet you’re fucking soaked down there, huh? Am I gonna feel your pussy all wet if I stick my fingers in it?”

Your pussy throbs at his demeaning words, begging for attention. But all that matters to you right now is Rafe, so you hum in agreement at his words and focus on his length.

“Don’t care about that right now.” Your words begin to slur, practically cock drunk as you nuzzle into him. “Only care about you.”

That sends him into a spiral. His nostrils flare and he slaps his cock against your cheek, keeping your head in place. 

You chase his warmth, hands touching whatever they can with your limited sight. His balls feel heavy in your hand, and you so desperately wished that Rafe would let you do more than just touch.

He pulls you away from his cock and tilts your head up. He’s panting as much as you are, the red in his cheeks harsher than before. His arousal practically mirrors your own, and the thought of how much he wanted you in that moment makes your body ache all over.

“Get to sucking, slut.”

Your wish is finally granted and you enthusiastically swallow his cock, gagging on the long shaft in the process. Your throat burns and your eyes water, but all you can think about is the heaviness of it on your tongue, the salty precum coating the inside of your mouth. Your vision goes blurry from the tears that leave your eyes yet you can only moan at the feeling of it.

“Feel so good, babe.” Rafe’s praise is surprising and it causes you to suck him harder, taking him deeper into your throat. He hisses at the sensation. “This mouth was made for me. It’s all mine, right?”

You release him with a pop to answer him. “Only yours, Rafe.” 

His eyes narrow and a dark chuckle leaves his lips. “Say it again.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your pussy aches with need. You thrust in the air against nothing, silently begging for some sort of release. Rafe’s words stir up carnal need within you.

“Only yours!”

“Better fucking be.”

He jerks his hips back up and you take him in your mouth again. You bob up and down his shaft furiously, desperate to give him some pleasure. The remaining length that doesn’t fit in your mouth is taken into your hands, fondled and stroked as your full attention remains on his cock.

There isn’t a single part of Rafe that isn’t being worshiped by you. Drool leaves your mouth as you hum against his cock, refusing to let it go. It feels hot in your mouth and you try to take it even deeper, your gag reflex mildly suppressed by the amount of times you’ve already tried this with him.

“Fuck yeah,” he jeered. “My little cock whore has to get her whole fill, ain’t that right?”

You whimper instinctually, the possessive growl in his voice practically making a puddle form beneath you. Rafe’s words egg you on and you take him all the way to the base, nose hitting his pubic hair. You can feel him twitching, nearing his end and that only makes you work harder. You move your head even faster, swirling your tongue all along his length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rafe pulls you off of his cock as his cum releases all over you, the sticky liquid splashing onto your face and dripping down your chest. You sweep a finger across some that landed on your cheek and put it in your mouth, swirling it around. The taste is so familiar, so him. You moan at it, smiling up at him. You relish in the sensation of him all over you.

Rafe leans back panting with a matching grin. His pupils are dilated and his cheeks are flushed; if he looks like that, you don’t even want to imagine the shape that you’re in right now. He caresses the back of your head and you nuzzle into his thigh, mumbling an I love you that you’re not quite sure he hears.

Rafe’s eyes gleam as he smirks down at you.

“God damn, babe. You gotta start drinking more at parties.”

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Five

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - blood, angst, mentions of ptsd, some fluff, Amren not knowing when to pick the right moment, some real intense stuff happening, you don't slow down do you?

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Open the door.

Open the door, Y/N.

Azriel hadn't left your side. Neither had Eris. It had been three days since Nesta had allowed them to see you, she came to them pale faced with traumatised eyes, her hands were covered in your blood, and her voice was barely above a whisper.

Nesta had forbid them from being in the room, the extent of your injuries meant that you'd have to be bare in order for Madja to tend to you, and she didn't want any male seeing you like that. The eldest Archeron sister sat on your bed with your head laying on her thigh as she ran her fingers through your hair and felt your tears dampen her skin through her dress.

There was so much blood.

Nesta had faintly heard Madja mutter something about poison on the blade, an off world substance that she had never seen which was the cause of your slow healing. Though, she didn't listen to much of it, instead staring at the eight pointed star inscribed into your lower back scattered amongst the rest of your runes which bent around it.

You had weakly asked for Amren with a strangled voice once you had felt Madja begin to finish her work and help to dress you in loose fitting clothes. Nesta had listened and called for her, frowning when you asked to be left alone for a moment, leaving Nesta in the hallway itching to get back inside and put you to bed whilst Cassian attempted, but failed, to comfort her.

Amren had stalked from the room minutes later, minutes that felt like eternity to those who wanted to see you, to hear your voice; she wore a look of total determination, ignoring their questions and simply telling them she would see them in a few days, that she had things to do.

Nesta still didn't let them in, she helped you into the bed, soothing down your hair and apologising when you winced before making you drink the tonic Madja had left for you, a sleeping tonic which would knock you out cold for as long as your body needed.

It turned out that your body needed three days to feel ready to face the world again, and you couldn't be in that house when you decided to rejoin them.

Open the door.

It was the first night that your violet shadow companion hadn't visited your dreams, or your reality, you weren't sure what was real anymore.

A breeze floated over you skin, coaxing your nerves back to life, your darkness began to pale, and you felt a dull thud in your mind and the dryness clutching to your throat; you felt your blood flowing through your body and the beat of your heart. You were alive.

Blurred vision welcomed you, the brightness of the room making you blink down hard, your eyelids fluttered as they adjust and you let out a gentle sigh, moving your hand flat against the silk sheets beneath you, "Hey," a voice that you often dreamed of called to you through a tunnel, muffled but definitely there, a warm hand slid into your own and you felt your heart sing at the contact.

Opening your eyes fully, the light adjusted and you saw him, "Eris?" It came out as a strangled whisper but heard you, nodding to you from where he sat to your side.

"I'm here," he looked sleep deprived, worry was prominent on his face, his brows were dipped and eyes laced with guilt.

His fingers traced the runes on your skin, the ones that Nesta had filled him in on, negating to divulge in the rather interesting piece on your lower back that she wasn't sure even you knew about.

A ghosting touch floated over the silken sheets and around your fingers, shadows curled around your digits and you smiled slightly at how careful they were being. Azriel appeared to your left, looking equally as bad as Eris, if not worse; he slid a hand beneath your head, tilting it downward so that he could lift a glass of water to your lips, and your throat hummed in thanks to the liquid sliding down it and soothing the rawness of your cries.

Azriel watched your chest rise and fall intently, like he was waiting for it to stutter and halt, he was scared, the thought was clear in him. You reached for his hand, limply grasping onto his second finger, "I'm okay, Az."

It all felt like a dream, or a horrifically brutal nightmare. You remembered fragments of it, the feeling of blood seeping through your dress, the vision of drowning that thing, the ripping of that knife from your abdomen, the name they had called you, the relief of finding Nyx unharmed.

Sitting up abruptly, you hissed as the wave of pain that consumed your stomach, Azriel wrapped his arm around your back and you looked to him frantic and pleading, "Nyx. Is he- where- is he alright?"

Azriel's fingers drew a line down the side of your face, pulling your attention to him, his hazel pools of rippling frenzy washed over you, releasing a calm within your soul as you drew a deep breath, breathing with him, "Nyx is fine, you protected him, he's safe."

You took a shaky breath, relaxing in the comfort of his grip, that scent of cedar pouring into you like a waterfall into a creek, and you began to cry. Azriel immediately bundled you into his arms, shushing you and running his fingers through your hair, he forcefully told Eris to find Nesta and you knew that his eyes were slicing through the Autumn heir, silently threatening him to move along.

Azriel had come to realise just how much he needed you when you weren't there telling him to play nice or to smile. When you were lying there lifeless in that bed, or lying in that pool of blood that night, he'd never been so terrified of losing anything his entire life. The need to be near you at all times had intensified past the point of subtlety, and Eris had noticed, and Eris hated it.

As soon as Eris closed the door behind him, Azriel took your face in his hands, it was hurting him seeing you like this, the pain it brought him was red hot and violent, "You did amazingly," he told you, manoeuvring his head so that his eyes connected with your own, "Nyx is alive because of you, you are alive because of you," he brushed away a stray tear with his scarred thumb, his breath fanned across your face and you exhaled through your mouth, "I'm sorry that I wasn't here, I'm sorry that you had to do this. I never should have left you."

"It's not your fault, Az," you mirrored him, placing your hands on either side of his face, feeling his stubble under your fingers.

Azriel's gaze flitted over your face, taking in every single blemish and line, he noted the exhaustion in your eyes, your relief and sadness, he wanted nothing more than to take it from you, to consume every bit of your pain and live with it for eternity if it meant that you'd be safe and smiling.

The Shadowsinger pressed his forehead to yours, drinking in everything that you were, closing his eyes and thanking the Mother that you had woken up and hadn't left him.

The entire of the Inner Circle watched you carefully as you cradled Nyx into your chest and rocked softly back and forth, chin atop his head and eyes squeezed closed like you were afraid if you opened them that it would all be a lie.

Azriel had scooped you up and taken you to the seating room in the House of Wind, he knew you couldn't be at the River House anymore, that you weren't ready to face it yet.

Before Nesta had arrived with Nyx, Rhys had asked to see what had happened, he had been working nonstop to piece the puzzle together of that night; he had been examining the blade that definitely was not made in their world, he had assigned Amren to look into the poison to which she had come up empty handed.

Your memories had helped, they were foggy, and it was clear you had omitting something from them from how disjointed they felt, and Rhys couldn't blame you from locking some parts away, he could only imagine how awful it must have been for you to fight like that to protect not only yourself but Nyx too.

"I think I know my name," your eyes were still screwed shut but you had relaxed into your chair, opening them, you saw the room peering at you, the world begging for more information, "Y/N."

"Did they call you that?" Mor asked from her place beside Feyre, the latter whom was smiling sadly at you holding her son with desperation.

You shook your head, "No," you glanced to Amren who shuffled in her seat whilst Nyx emitted soft snores against your chest and your heart clenched, "A voice spoke to me whilst I was asleep, a woman I think, she wants me to open the door."

Elain visibly flinched, alarm written in her eyes, and she looked to Lucien who nodded with encouragement before she spoke to you, "I heard it too, I've been hearing it since the day you set foot in Velaris," Elain felt awful to spring such news on you when you were so fragile, but it wasn't a coincidence anymore, "I've seen a door of rippling starlight," her eyes glazed over, "I've seen fire and I've heard the most inhuman roars I've ever heard, and I've seen you, stood in the centre of every vision I've had ever since and it's you but it's not you and you don't say a word, you're just glowing in white light but surrounded by shadow. I can't explain it. Nothing makes sense."

"I think I can help with that," Amren leaned forward, looking at you and asking a silent question, if you wanted everyone to hear what she had to say, "I've researched into that name you asked me about. Tiamat. The name they called you that night," Azriel moved closer to you, feeling your emotion calming at his touch whilst the room held a breath.

"It took me awhile but then I remembered where I've seen it before, a book about a time before the creation of anything," Amren produced the book in question and laid it atop the table in the centre of the room, Theories of Creation From Alternate Worlds; Gods, Goddesses and Monsters, she gave you a grave knowing look, "Tiamat is the primordial goddess of the oceans and the chaos of creation, she predates all life, she is life." Amren opened the book, the pages stained with age and the ink faded; she flipped through it until she found exactly what she was looking for, "You're right, Elain, it wasn't human roars you were hearing," Amren turned the book around so that everyone could see the sketch that consumed the two page spread, a sketch of a large black dragon with demented eyes, monstrously large wings, breathing flames of billowing water.

Amren continued, "Tiamat is depicted in lore as a dragon with a fae-like alternate, she was said to have birthed all life, every continent, the heavens and Hel, everything came from her. Tiamat is creation and everything that came before it, she's not from our world but we have our own depiction of her."

Feyre gasped, her blue-grey eyes wilding moving over you, to the sleeping child in your arms, "The Mother."

The Mother. The one who created Prythain. The one who created everything. The one they all prayed to. Their deity. Their goddess.

Everyone had turned to you, you felt sick, you could feel the bile bubbling in the pit of your stomach, "Take him," you gave Nesta little to no notice before you passed Nyx to her, bolting from your seat and trying to desperately find somewhere else to be.

Open the door.

Tear blurred your vision. It couldn't be. You couldn't be Tiamat, you couldn't be The Mother. It wasn't possible. How was it possible. How.

Ignoring the calls of your name, not Flora, not Tiamat, your real name, you flew out of the door, embracing the cold and wild wind in the open arched hallway that blew right against you, whistling in your ears. You set off running, up and up through the home, up the winding staircases and down the halls until you were stood on top of the house, looking out at Velaris below with the wind ripping through you frantically, begging you to stop as you stepped on the edge, your toes hanging off of the stone.

Nothing was quiet, your mind was screaming at you, your body was howling in agony, "I'm Flora. I'm Y/N. I'm not this, I can't do this," you sobbed to yourself, your hands clawing at the sides of your face, trying to plead your head into silence.

The stars shined overhead, peeking through the clouds and flickering ferociously at the bodies that had piled onto the platform.

"Y/N," red hair entered your vision, "It's okay," Eris held his hands out to you, approaching you slowly, you took a step back, wobbling on the precipice of the home which lay 10,000 steps in the air.

Azriel appeared next, nearly breaking at the sight of you standing on that edge, consumed by confusion and pain and everything else that you were feeling, "We can figure this out, Y/N. Let me help you."

"I never should have left her here with you, look at what you've done to her," Eris growled, his beautiful little flower was hurt and breaking, Azriel and Rhys were supposed to protect you, and now you were standing on the edge of your sanity, staring up at the sky and reaching toward the stars.

"Don't you dare, Eris," Rhys moved between them, moving closer to your dazed body, "You're not dangerous, Y/N. You're confused and we can help you, we can figure out how to open the door, together, okay? Just come with me." Rhys pleaded, managing to get close to you with Azriel a step ahead, taking advantage of your glazed over eyes; he already lost his sister, he just couldn't lose you too, but as he watched your body sway in the wind, he felt utterly powerless against the voice in your head.

You were so gentle and pulled his family together like glue, you looked out for all of them, you soothed all of them just by being you. Being The Mother or not, nothing changed your place in his family.

Open the door. Open the door.

Swirling spandrils of rippling starlight blinded you, the tightly locked doors in your mind bellowing to be opened, rattling in their frames and splashing pools of glittering liquid onto the floor.

Open the door.

Azriel was so close, so close that he could feel the warmth emitting from your body.

Then, he watched you tip off the edge and fall downward through the sky.

"NO!" Azriel roared, diving off of the edge after your body that was soaring down the edge of the mountain.

Your dress danced in the wind that zipped past you, your hair bustling over your face, and your hand was still extended upward to the sky. You weren't looking at Azriel, if you were then you would have seen the tears in his eyes, you would have seen his hand reaching for you and you may have decided to change your course, but no, you were focused on the stars. The same stars that had left their heavenly perches and were instead hurtling through the air to reach you, flying past Azriel and slithering around your limbs, blasting their light at the Shadowsinger and projecting him backward.

Azriel let out an audible cry, frantically regaining his stance before flying for you again, being powerless to stop the stars from consuming you in their light and ripping open the air beneath you, exposing a portal of rich warmth and plush green grass, of sunlight and lapping waves, and they wasted no time in pushing you through the rift of their souls before sealing it shut and tossing away the key.

All Azriel was left with was the sight of your eyes, soft and peaceful pools of awakened bliss, and the movement of your lips as you whispered his name into the wind.

Author's Note

Hopefully this was a part worth waiting for x

Please give feedback as always!

Taglist

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[laniluvsuu]

Her.

Hi y’all!! I barley proofread this so I’m sorry for mistakes. Anyways I have another version of this with the same song but with Connie so lmk if y’all want that…🌚🤭.

Ony was one of the smartest boys in your class. He had a sexy face and straight A’s and you chose to use both at your advantage. And Ony knew you were bad for him, but he couldn’t get enough of you, he didn’t mind the fact you used him for good grades or his face.

It was just your luck that you sat next to the smartest and finest boy in your class. It was also your luck because, he never failed to give you his answers to the questions you had trouble with. You always said something along the lines..

“Onyyy can you help me with number 6?” You asked looking at Ony with big pleading eyes, reaching your hand over to grab his paper like usual, but for a change he grabbed your hand from reaching his paper and saying.

“What’s in it for me this time y/n?” Ony said smirking at you, his silver diamond grills peaking out at you when he spoke, while he was still gripping onto your hand.

“Oh.., we could do whatever you want.” You said staring back at ony, ignoring how you instantly got hot when he said your name.

“You could come back to the spot after this shi’ over ma.” Ony said staring down into your eyes waiting for your response. His inked hand finally letting go of your hand.

“Mmk, all you’ll ever have is one day with me, and if that’s how you wanna spend it then be my guest.” You shrugged before reaching over his arms once again to grab his papers and take all his answers.

“But boy, don’t you go falling in love..” you said as you copied down all of his answers changing little things about every problem.

“You could fuck me in the back of your car..”

is what got you here, sitting Onyankopons lap dripping wet, and making out with him in the front seat of his car. And of course this all happened before y’all made it back to his house.

As y’all made out Ony moved his inked hand up to your neck. As he gripped on your throat, he pulled you back from his face and said “Move to the back for me mama. And I want allat shit off for me before I get back there with you.”

You did what he said without saying a word. You watch as he moved, and parked his car in an empty parking lot, while you waited for him to join you in the back seat. And as soon as he did step out of his car the first thing you saw was his growing bulge poking through his pants, his pelvic area covered in a wet spot, from you.

Opening the backseats car door, and getting in. Ony was happy that you listened to him and took all your clothes off. “You’re such a good girl for me” Ony mumbled while he reached over to grab your throat once again to kiss your lips, harder this time. And now you can only imagine how needy you were at this point. Reaching over to his pelvis, to attempt to pull the waistband of his pants down off his waist.

“Nuh uh. Don’t do that baby. You were being such a good girl.” Ony smirked at you while looking deep into your eyes continually flashing his eyes up and down your face, to your eyes then to your lips while he was still gripping onto your throat.

“Please Ony…I need it..need you.” You pleaded to Ony hoping he would do anything to stop the painfully good aching in between your legs.

“Oh yeah? So tell me how your gonna get it. You wanted me to fuck you in the back of my car right? Tell daddy how you want it baby.” Ony said using your own words against you, while he started to pull his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

As he waiting for your response, he grabbed your waist and pulled you ontop of his pelvis, not ontop his dick but above it, because he wanted you to do the work.

“I wanna ride you Ony.” You whined to him as he placed you onto his pelvis. You reached behind your body to grab his standing dick, propping your other hand on his pelvic abs to push your body up so you can sit on his dick.

“Ouuuh. Fuck!” You dragged out as you sank your body down onto his dick. You moved your hands onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you bounced up and down on his body.

“S—shit mama.” Ony said in a deep voice that made your body shudder. Ony moved his hands to your waist to bounce you faster on his dick. He moved his right hand down to your ass cheek to grip, and spank you everytime you slowed down your movements.

“O—ony..i c-cant! Daddy i cant take it!” You yelped out to him feeling your legs grow tired from your movements. Nonetheless you still tried to continue, greedy to reach your release.

“You want daddy to take over f’you baby?” Ony mumbled smirking down at the way your strength already gave up on you, and how you were so greedy for his dick.

You nodded you’re head at Ony’s question which he choose to ignore while he wrapped his left arm around your waist, then used his right hand to bring you down to his chest. He started thrusting his hips up into yours and each time he did it was faster, deeper.

The tip of his dick was kissing your cervix each time he thrusted up into you. The only thing that could be heard inside of his car was the sound of your wet pussy being slapped ontop of his pelvis, your moans, and his groans he let out.

“O—oh! Oh s—shittt…Daddy! M’gonna cum!” You yelled out feeling your stomach tighten up and get hotter, while your long acrylics clawed at the back of his neck and his chest.

Tears of pleasure falling down your face as you lifted your head up, and opening your eyes to look up at Ony. Only to see his head slightly thrown back as he had the bottom of his shirt in between his teeth, leaving his inked covered chest to show. His eye brows furrowed upwards in pleasure, his eyes closed shut. His diamond grills smiled down at you, and you almost came at the sight of how good he looked above you.

“G’ahead mama, I’m right there with you. Cum on daddy’s dick. Be a good girl.” Ony mumbled out as his head was still thrown back. He sped up his movements chasing after both of your orgasms.

“Mmph onyyyy!” You dragged out as you could taste your release on the tip of your tongue.

“Where you want daddy’s cum baby?” In his deep voice, you didn’t hesitate to say “inside d—daddy..please!” You said eager to have your tight walls painted by his seed.

“H—holy fuck!” Ony let out feeling his climax reach him as soon as he felt yours hit, feeling your pussy get wetter, and spasm all over his dick, he came, shooting his seed up inside of you like you had asked for.

Once Onyankopon came down from his high, he thought about your words from earlier, how he’ll only have one day with you, and how he’ll never get to stay with you, never get to stay in your pussy as much as he wanted too.

[hoonvrs]

ROUND AND AROUND — n. riki

req for 1k event!

PROMPT  [ two, 9 ] picking you up and twirling you when they’re excited 

PAIRING riki x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS none

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTE last but not least my baby riki. this is the last req from my event ( long overdue ik but shhh ) but I tried to make it a little special for my special boy and i genuinely had fun writing this so hopefully it’s good <3

also the title being one of my fave songs ever. jo yuri u will be punished for making it so so short

the sounds of machines beeping and other teenagers screaming rang through your ears as you walked through the arcade hand-in hand with riki. walking past all the friends playing with the claw machines before you pulled him back towards one that caught your eyes.

“oh my god, how cute!” you said, digging through your pocket to ply one round before you felt riki push you away to take your place.

you see him slot in a coin as he bends down a little to grab the joystick, posture relaxed “i’m an expert, watch me get it on the first try for you.”

fast forward, it’s been over half an hour and still no plushie in sight. your competitive boyfriend refuses to give up after many failed attempts, something about not letting a stupid machine hurt his ‘manly’ pride. he was hunched over the control keys, knees bent, as he followed the claw using his whole upper body.

after another fail you begin to tug at the bottom of his shirt, “come on, babe. we all know they’re rigged, and you’ve already spent too much on it.”

you see him huff under his breath, annoyance starting to show through his face still adamant on winning. suddenly shooting up straight, startling you as he whips his head towards you. If there was a lightbulb above his head, it would’ve turned on, “hug me.”

“what?” you looked at him confused, seeing him looking completely serious.

“hug me, you’re my lucky charm,” he grabbed your arms, encouraging you to wrap around his waist, and how could you say no after all the effort — and money — he has used to discourage him now? so, slowly wrapping your arms around him wasn’t the problem, but the awkward situation it left you in with him slightly bending into you.

trying to ignore the questioning glances thrown your way by people just trying to walk past you two as riki goes back into focus with a deep breath.

you couldn’t see much of what was going on, having your view obstructed by your boyfriend's huge back until you start to feel him shake. he turned around so quickly you barely had time to register before you suddenly felt your feet leave the ground.

rikis excited about winning the plushie after god knows how much time and money manifested in him lifting you and spinning you both, “i knew you were my lucky charm!”

leaving no room for you to respond, he quickly places you down as he turns to retrieve the plushie, an almost jarring yellow duck with pink round cheeks and a puffy beak. presenting it to you like a cat would when leaving a dead bird at your doorstep, all pridefully accompanied by the biggest box smile on display.

“here you go, bae. why’d you pick this duck anyway?” he asked, the adrenaline of finally winning evidently still hadn’t worn off yet. you slowly raised the plushie to be beside rikis head, now having two ducks facing you.

you could see the gears turning in his head, but no dots were connecting as he slightly tilted his head with a pout on his lips. you could swear he was trying to copy the duck if you hadn’t known him well enough.

“no reason, just cute.”

shrugging in response, as he grabs your hand to pull you towards another game that wouldn’t suck your pockets dry. looking down to see the duck snug between your forearm and chest and looking up to see the boy you love who looked almost identical.

but of course, one of them is way cuter.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su

[bl4cktourmaline]

Okey!!:3 so blade x male reader who Invited him to a haunted house for fun and reader actually got scared and like uhh blade becomes his bodyguard:3 very cliche but I don't care:33

🎋 . 鳥居 — blade

✿ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : yue is typing... ✉!

✿ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : when your plan to get a reaction out of the quiet man end up backfiring you...

✿ — ♯ GENRE : fluff, male reader

✿ — ↠ NOTE : pyon-yahoo~!! This is my first attempt at blade's character so not 100% confident about this one for a while ahhh but I still hope you like it anopyon so thank you for the request and enjoy~!!

✿ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, in doing so will motivate us to continue delivering stories to you, thank you for all of your supports ~ !

✿ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : going to a haunted house with blade...

✿ You, a young man first met Blade during your travels in the Luofu and when you found out that he was a wanted man, you honestly didn't care because...you were just fascinated by his mere existence as a whole.

✿ He is a man of few words but he doesn't really ignore or push you away which is why a man like you can't really stay away because you were slowly getting attached to him, the more time you always seek to be in his presence to the point that the other members of the stellaron hunters end up knowing your name.

✿ When you invited Blade to investigate an old house that was rumoured to be haunted, you honestly expecting him to say no but surprisingly, he agreed to it.

✿ You only took the job because you think it's would be interesting and fun to go with someone like Blade just to get a reaction out of him, not like ghosts exist anyways right?

Oh, how wrong you were.

RUMBLE...RUMBLE...RUMBLE...!

"It's raining..." Blade mumbled, sounding husky and quiet before turning his eyes on the young man next to him, looking very pale in the face "...You alright?"

"H-Huh?" You flinched, holding onto his sleeve while putting on a brave face "Y-Yeah! I'm fine, no worries here haha-"

CREAK...!

"HEHEHEHE!! "

A single eye appeared in the dark, wild, unhinged laughter breaking the silence unexpectedly as it filled the room with its unsettling sound.

"AHHHH!!!!" Screaming, you wrapped yourself around the taller male's arm with tears gathered up at the corner of your eyes.

As you were freaking out, Blade just watched a small figure falling onto the ground, slowly rolling over before stopping at his feet.

"It's just a broken doll" He stated with a blank expression.

"A broken doll don't laugh like a maniac normally!?!" You shouted, practically shaking uncontrollably. "L-Let's just move on...uhhh I-I don't want to stay here any longer!"

"Alright..." Blade let the shorter man dragged him through the empty hallway.

PATTER! PATTER! PATTER!

You could hear the sound of your footsteps echoing throughout the dark hallways and whenever you got close to a room, high-pitched piercing cries could be heard from the other side of the door which never failed to spook you more.

"Why did I even agree to this?!" Hands on your head, scratching and pulling out of frustration.

a blue flame appears above the chandelier, giggling mischievously as its watches you freaking out down below...

SNAP!

"Huh, what was that sound-WOAH!!"

A loud crash occurs, breaking the wooden floor, leaving behind a big hole.

You turn pale at the sight, that thing could have easily killed you!

"I...uhh thank you for saving me-" You cut yourself off when your eyes meet his.

Before you could even register what happened earlier, somehow his arms were around your waist as you were being pressed against his own, warm breathes hitting your ear and if you listen carefully...you might hear your own heartbeat. He was so close .

"You should be more careful on where you're going next time" Blade said in a stern tone but his eyes have a soft look to them...

"I-I will..." Pink hues spread across the young man's cheeks, hands clenched on his clothes tightly.

... maybe going to a haunted house wasn't so bad after all.

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi I hope your having a good day by the time you read this! I was hoping I could request Minthara, Karlach, Gale, and Zevlor (If you write for him) reacting to a Tav that looks visibly under the weather but ignores it to continue to do things rather than resting?

Heh I’ve got a cold that’s kicking my ass rn but even tho it’s the week before thanksgiving break my college classes are piling me with stuff to do ya know?

I'm currently dealing with similar things, anon. Life demands us to function even at our worst sometimes. The migranes can be ruthless. Please make sure to rest and take care of yourself. You're more important than your assignments and classes.

Dealing with a stressed Tav who refuses to rest.

[Fluff, comfort, nb!reader]

[Minthara, Karlach, Gale, Zevlor]

Minthara

As cruel and cold as she tends to be, there is certainly some tenderness deep inside her heart that's saved solely for you.

If it was someone else, she wouldn't have cared. If anything she expects her followers to work themselves to the death if it benfited her, she has no tolerance for the weak.

And yet, every principle she has ever held goes straight out the window when it comes to you. The sight of your visibly tired face and exhausted body makes her furrow her eyebrows in worry, forms a tightness in her chest.

She respects you immensely, and she knows for a fact you're not weak. If anything you're stronger than anyone she has ever met before.

Minthara wants to show that she can be strong for you too, prove herself as the capable and reliable partner you entrusted your heart with. Take the burdens off your shoulders and carry it on her own. No price is too great when it comes to ensuring your well being, whether it be a life or gold.

But even her own abilities only extend so far, she knows there are things that you simply can't let her handle. She feels as if she failed you when the only thing she can do is stand there uselessly whilst you struggle through your hardships.

Kind words of encouragement don't come easily for her. There's no softness left on her tongue, and tenderness is a foreign language long forgotten. Yet she tries, she still tries through failed awkward attempts and borderline counterproductive advice. She still tries to offer some sort of relief for you, to understand you better, to just be with you.

Karlach

It pains her in a way, seeing you brush off your own health so easily and discard your wellbeing. You don't realise how much she envies you, envies having the health to spare to neglect.

The engine burns against her chest, sending her on a coughing fit more times than she could count, her time is nearing its end.

If she were you, she'd treasure it. Her life, her body, and her own pulsing heart.

Karlach still buries her feelings and comforts you, putting your needs above hers. Attempting to get you to smile again, tricking you into having at least a nap when you're especially exhausted.

You're a soldier, she reminds you, you're brave, strong, and capable. And she will always have your back no matter what, so don't go fighting the world on your own when it's better to take a step back and recover first.

Gale

She'd drown you with kisses, brighten your day up with hugs, and offer the most loving and tender touches. Each word coming from her mouth is filled with sincerity, yet it barely scrapes the surface of how deep her love is for you.

He's been there more than once. Hell, he still neglects his own health for his studies, even to this day. He can relate to you a lot.

It's the feeling of being left behind, everyone else seems to have their ducks in a row while you're struggling just to stay afloat ontop of the water. How tempting it is just to give in and sink, the threat of the abyss below whispering into your ears.

Yet you stay swimming, the both of you need to. Have to.

No matter how muddy and ruthless the current gets, no matter how aggressive the waves become. He'll hold your hand amidst the storm and anchor you to him.

Each one resurfacing the other whenever they start to drown, pulling each other up.

It's not the most healthy, he is self-aware enough to admit it. But he can't condem you for what he himself is guilty of, he can't tell you to take a rest when the orb bleeds his sins of greed through his chest.

Zevlor

He brings you food, peeled oranges and cut apples, sweet tea and freshly baked cookies. Shares his lunch and dinner with you, shares his own warmth too under the blanket.

He has experienced many things throughout his long life, he has lead an army in hell and did whatever he had to do for the sake of his people.

He has sacrificed many years, decades even of his own life for them. He would've given it all for them if he could, to ensure their freedom, to ensure the kids got to grow up safe and sound.

In the same way, he is ready to sacrifice his well-being to preserve yours. Ready to bear your responsibilities so you can go rest and sleep soundly.

So please, don't refuse an old person like him when he invites you over for some tea and to take a breath. He's absolutely certain that you can relay on him for whatever tasks you have, even stay at his own home if you require assistance.

A big part of why he managed to survive all those years of war, is because he knew when to ask for help, when to cast aside his pride and let even strangers lend a hand for the sake of his people.

He doesn't order you outright. He's not your general, and he doesn't have authority over you. Yet his voice is firm when he insists on you accepting help, allowing yourself this small mercy.