#like imagine being able to do all that!!!!

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: angst angst angst 

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Part III

and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The First Attempt

Poison was probably the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it. 

But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients. 

However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows. 

Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder. 

But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.

Kill Azriel.

Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go. 

Those had been Keir's exact words. 

You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark. 

One for the Shadowsinger. 

One for Azriel. 

You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up. 

He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least. 

You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.

But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life. 

So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way. 

No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom. 

You saw his shadows before him. They seeped underneath the door to your room like smoke. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them before pure dread washed over you. 

Kill Azriel. 

Kill him. 

A gentle knock on your door was heard before it was pushed open and the Shadowsinger stepped through the threshold, his beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. His hazel eyes searched the room until they landed on you and you watched as they lit up ever so slightly—the most emotion he would allow himself to show.

You set your brush down and stood to face him. Azriel stalked forward and by his body language alone, you knew the sort of mood he was in. You braced yourself on the vanity behind you as he came to a halt in front of you, tilting your head up to stare at his lethal and devastatingly beautiful face. 

He didn’t speak as he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you with a frenzy that lit your body on fire. You returned the passion, stringing your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him. His presence washed over you like a tempestuous storm, all encompassing. You lost yourself in it—in him. 

You had never felt so taken by someone before. But being with Azriel was just so easy. He was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating labyrinth. 

He pulled away all too soon.

You opened your eyes, heart pounding in your chest. “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice hoarse. 

You smiled up at him. “You saw me last night, silly.”

“And yet still I miss you the moment I leave.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck and your hands slid into his dark hair. He exhaled a breath that kissed the sensitive skin of your throat. 

You didn’t want to say it out loud, but you felt the same way. Every second apart from Azriel felt like a lifetime. You gently raked your nails over his scalp and you felt his body loosen in your hold, finally relaxing. 

Your eyes fell on the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart. So unassuming. So ordinary. But it held your freedom. You swallowed harshly as Azriel pulled away from you

“Go sit,” you said to him, nudging him in the direction of the couch. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

You watched him take a seat as you moved over to the bar cart. You picked up a whiskey glass, not even realizing how much your hands were shaking until you did so. You quickly set it back down on the cart, taking a deep breath.

You could do this.

All you had to do was just pour him a drink. Just one drink. That’s all it would take. One drink and he’d be dead within the hour. He’d be dead and your bargain with Keir would be over. You would be free. 

“I need to make a trip back to Velaris before it gets too late.” Azriel’s voice caused you to jump, almost knocking over the whole cart. “I have to give my mission report to Rhys before the day is over.” 

“You mean you haven’t gone to see the High Lord before coming here?” 

“No,” Azriel answered. “I…I just wanted to see you first.”

Your heart snapped into a million pieces in your chest. You frowned, staring at the back of his head. You could hear the hesitation in his voice—could feel how much it had taken out of him to admit that. Azriel wasn’t very forthcoming, so to blatantly confess something like that…

Fuck, you couldn’t do this. Not like this. You couldn’t kill him like a Godsdamn coward. 

You grabbed the decanter and dropped it on the floor, watching it smash into a million pieces just like your heart had. The whiskey splattered on the ground, soaking into the carpet. Azriel whipped around at the noise, eyebrows high. 

You turned red and stuttered out, “Oops. I-It slipped right out of my hand.” 

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. You quickly looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been minutes away from killing him. Tears lined your eyes as you knelt down to start picking up the glass shards. Azriel was at your side in a second, grasping your elbow and pulling you up off the ground. 

“Don’t touch it. You’ll cut yourself,” he murmured. “Let me take care of it.” 

His care, his concern, it only made you feel so much worse. You sucked in a breath of air, trying to blink away the tears.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, grasping your face with his scarred hands. He lightly stroked your cheeks with his thumb. “What’s wrong?” 

You stared up at him, into his devastating hazel eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” Your voice cracked, your throat hoarse as you held back your cries. “I have done nothing to earn your care.” 

“Earn my care? Angel, you don’t have to do anything to earn my care. I care for you because…because,” Azriel paused for a moment, almost like he was debating something. “Because you allow me an escape from my duties—from my incredibly lonely life. When I’m with you, I don’t think about anything else. There is nothing you need to do for me. Just allowing me to see you—to be with you—that is enough.”��

“Azriel, I….” You wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to tell him about your bargain with Keir—about the steward’s demand that you kill him. But the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. “I just wanted to help you relax and I’ve already messed it up. I’m sorry. Let me go down to the cellar to get another bottle—”

“I don’t need alcohol to relax. I just need you, angel.” 

You were speechless. So utterly speechless. Any words you might’ve said got caught in your throat. All you could do was stare up at him—up at this beautiful male who had shown you he was nothing like the reputation that followed him around. He was gentle, kind, and so much better than anyone you’d ever met in this wretched city. He deserved so much more than this, so much more than you. 

“Okay?” Azriel said, knocking you out of your thoughts. 

You nodded your head, swallowing down your cries. 

“Okay,” you murmured back. 

Tonight you’d give him what he wanted. It was the least you could do. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel flew back to Velaris feeling lighter than he had in decades. It was probably irresponsible that he had gone to see his mate before giving his High Lord his mission report, but he had needed to see her. To feel her in his arms after the day he had in the Illyrian mountains. 

Tonight had been a blessing. She always took care of him like she knew exactly what he needed. And tonight he had just needed to hold her. She had talked him into a massage, her hands magic against his skin and muscles and then they had just laid together, talking about everything and nothing. 

He felt more rested than he would have if he had tried to go to sleep. He felt refreshed, buoyant—like he could take on anything that was thrown his way as long as he had his angel to return to. 

It was nearing six in the morning now and he knew Rhys would be awake, usually tending to Nyx while Feyre got some desperately needed rest. He landed with a small thud in front of the River House and quietly made his way inside. He paused as his shadows whispered to him that Rhys was waiting in his office—no babe in sight. 

When he opened the door to the office, Rhys was indeed waiting for him—arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Azriel quietly closed the door behind him, pulling out his report from the shadow realm and setting it on the desk in front of his High Lord. Rhys glanced down at it for a second before looking back at him. 

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “Where have you been all night? I’ve been trying to reach you but your mental shields were up.”

Azriel cleared his throat before answering. “I had a matter to attend to before I came here.” 

He kept his voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t want anyone to find out about her yet—his angel. She was his for now. His secret, his love, his mate. 

Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, nostrils flaring. “Is this matter the reason why you smell of cheap perfume and aphrodisiacs?” 

Azriel shrugged, nonchalantly. “This matter is none of your business.” 

“Am I wrong to assume that your scent means that you’ve taken my advice?” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched but he refrained from speaking in anger. “Everything you need to know about the mission is in that report,” he said, nodding towards the file on Rhys’s desk. “If that is all, I will take my leave.” 

Rhys frowned. “No, that is not all. Please, sit, Azriel. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” 

Azriel begrudgingly sat in the armchair in front of Rhys’s desk. All he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and get ready to see his angel again in a few hours. He’d once again bought out all her time slots, leaving her with no clients other than himself. Meanwhile, he tried every night to convince her to leave with him, to return with him to Velaris. But something was holding her back…or perhaps she didn’t feel for him the way he did for her. 

That was a depressing thought that he frequently lingered on. 

“What is it?” Azriel asked, wanting to get this conversation over with. 

Rhys rubbed his jaw, his striking violet eyes assessing Azriel. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way I spoke to you on Solstice Night. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t angry when I saw you and Elain together, so ready to make your…affections known in plain sight—especially when she has yet to reject the bond with Lucien. But I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” 

Azriel tensed in his chair at the memory of that night—at the cruel words Rhys had thrown his way. But unlike before, no hurt came from the memory. No hurt, no longing, no despair. Nothing. Instead, where that hole had been in his chest before was now filled with thoughts and longing for his angel…his sweet mate. 

“It’s fine,” Azriel replied, stiffly. “You did the right thing. It would have been a political nightmare had Lucien seen us.” 

Rhys nodded. “It would’ve. Especially with how many ties he has to other courts—other courts we’re still trying to repair our reputation with. But I treated you like one of my subjects that night and not like a friend. It wasn’t just Lucien I was thinking of, but you too, Azriel. I don’t want to see you hurt if you give your all to Elain and she decides to pursue the bond further down in the line.” 

“It wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine,” Azriel can’t help but say. To his surprise, Rhys nodded his agreement.

“You're right. It is not my choice nor is it my life to live,” Rhys said. “Which is why I’ve decided to rescind my orders for you to stay away from her. I just ask that if you two do pursue something together, please use discretion—especially when Lucien is around. At least until she fully rejects the bond or tells him of her own affairs. Is that reasonable enough?” 

Azriel stood from his seat. “I appreciate the apology, Rhys. But everything else is not needed. I have no plans to pursue Elain or court her. Is that all?” 

Rhys stood as well, his jaw flexing. “So I was right, then? You were willing to throw away our relations with other courts for a female you have no interest in months later? Azriel, I can’t even speak to how irresponsible that would’ve been.” 

“Well, nothing happened. You intervened at the right moment,” Azriel said, coldly. 

Rhys studied him again. “No, that isn’t like you, Az. Something else has happened. Does this have anything to do with that female you had hanging off you in Hewn City? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a prostitute of all people now.” 

Anger striked through Azriel like lightning. 

“Watch how you speak about her,” he snarled, hands flexing. 

Rhys gaped at him with a disbelieving look. “Godsdamnit, Azriel. Are you that desperate for love that you have truly fallen for someone you’re paying to be in your company?”

“If you are truly my brother,” Azriel growled. “If you truly have my best interest in mind, then you will drop this now. I don’t need your advice or your concern.” 

“Of course I have your best interests in mind! But, Azriel, this is lunacy. I don’t know what that female has told you, but she only cares for your money. If you had any sense, you’d put a stop to this—”

Azriel lunged forward, slamming his hands on Rhys’s desk, shadows spiraling around him. 

“I said,” he snapped, bearing his teeth, his voice as cold as ice. “Watch how you speak about her.” 

Rhys’s mouth dropped open in shock and before he could say anything else, Azriel disappeared in a flurry of shadows. He needed to leave, far too tempted to rearrange Rhys’s face with his fists. So he let his shadows take him somewhere else he knew he could let off steam—the training ring.

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The Second Attempt 

Azriel was laying next to you, fast asleep. Even his shadows had rescinded to the dark corners of the room, content to leave their master in your hands. The hands that were currently holding a dagger, shaking as you straddled his sleeping body. 

Why was this so hard?

You had killed plenty of males like this before. 

But as you stared down at Azriel’s beautifully peaceful face, something ached terribly in your chest. He looked so much more boyish when he slept. His dark hair tousled, his large wings relaxed, the harsh lines of his face smoothed out. 

The room was dark except for the singular candle on your nightstand, half illuminating his handsome face. He was nude from the waist up, his swirling Illyrian tattoos on display—tattoos you often traced over as the two of you laid in bed together. 

It had taken a while for Azriel to actually fall asleep in your presence. The first few times he had spent the night, you had woken up to him holding you in his arms, staring at you as though you were his entire world—like nothing else mattered in that moment but you. It had caused your heart to flutter and ache. 

But now here he was, asleep. A sign that he trusted you now. Trusted that he could sleep and not have to be vigilant. And he looked so vulnerable like this. Gentle and soft. Nowhere was the usual foreboding and threatening aura that followed him around.

So vulnerable. 

So unassuming.

So clueless that you were currently straddling him with a dagger held above your head, ready to strike. 

You blinked as you felt watchful eyes on you, freezing. His shadows had meandered out of the dark recesses of the room, slowly crawling your way—like they were giving you the opportunity to stop this yourself before they intervened.

You let out a deep breath and lowered your arms. 

Poisoning him had been a coward’s move and so was killing him in his slumber. If his shadows had any sense, they’d strangle you right here and now. You fell off of him, laying back down at his side. The shadows rescinded, the threat gone in their eyes. 

But as long as your freedom was dependent on Azriel’s life, he would always be in danger around you. No matter how much you wished to not hurt him. No matter what you felt for him. 

Azriel had to die. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel had never felt happiness like this before you. Not truly. He hadn’t even known it, hadn’t known that this was something he could feel. But here he was, his heart full and his mind at peace. There was only one thing that could make this better than it was.

He ghosted his scarred fingers over your bare back, lightly touching your soft skin. You were laying on your stomach next to him, nude except for the silk sheets pulled to your waist. 

His lips twitched as you let out a tiny noise of satisfaction at his touch, turning your head on your folded hands so you could stare up at him. 

He would never tire of staring at you—at your beautiful, serene face. Your alias made perfect sense. Serenity. That was what you made him feel. Though he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of how many other males might’ve felt like this around you. 

The only solace he had now was making sure that you were his from now on. He didn’t care how much money he had to spend to keep you occupied with him. So long as it meant you’d be his angel and no one else’s. 

You smiled up at him and the sight was so breathtaking, he lost his train of thought. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in that sweet voice that melted his ice cold heart. 

“You,” Azriel replied, honestly. 

You scrunched your nose at him, your smile growing. He trailed a finger down the slope of it, watching your eyes flutter at his soft touch. 

“That’s what you always say.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the truth.” 

“You're sweet,” you teased, making him chuckle.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as sweet, Angel.”

It was your turn to shrug a shoulder. “You’re sweet to me.” 

“You’re special,” he said, so genuinely that it made your heart skip a beat. 

“Am I?” 

“Yes,” he said, brushing your hair off your back and over your shoulder. “Of course you are.” 

You closed your eyes with a hum, content as he began to trace lines down your back again. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Your eyes flew open, brows furrowing. You gave him a small nod, curiously. 

“Do you…” he trailed off for a second, his voice lacking the sureness it had a moment ago. “Do you…feel this—this thing between us the way I do?”

“Azriel,” you warned, making his hand pause on your back. This was a topic you tried to stray away from with clients. You weren’t supposed to develop true feelings for any of them and you hadn’t. Not until…

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I understand your line of work. But I…I can’t help what I feel, Angel. Tell me you feel it too.” 

You frowned, a nasty feeling coiling in your gut. It should be easy to say no. But that wouldn’t be the truth, would it? No, the truth was you did feel it—that fiery energy between the two of you. Azriel was different. He didn’t feel like a client. He called you by your real name, knew personal details about your life. All things you had shared for some unknown reason. 

All you knew was that you had wanted to share those things with him so you did. You wanted Azriel in a way you’d never wanted anyone else. You wanted to know him, craved his presence when he was gone, loved being with him like this. 

The line between the two of you was so blurred, you weren’t sure it had ever existed in the first place. 

You looked back up at him, your eyes conveying the things you couldn’t yet say out loud. Because you couldn’t let yourself feel like this. 

But Azriel stared back at you, knowingly, like he could read everything you had spelled out in your mind. “You don’t have to say it, Angel. I just need to know.” 

You rolled onto your back, letting out a sigh. “Azriel, we can’t—”

“Why not?” He cut in. “Why not, Angel? If you…if you feel something for me then please, take me up on my offer. Let me take you to Velaris. You don’t even have to live with me. I can buy you your own apartment and anything you need. You’d never have to work again. I could take care of you, Angel, the way you deserve to be taken care of.” 

And what a life that would be. Free of this place, of this gods awful city. Free to live with Azriel. Free to do as you please. Free to bask under the sun, to see the stars in all their glory—no longer buried under this mountain. 

But it wasn’t possible. It was a dream and only a dream. So long as that mark was still on your finger, this was all you could offer him before he’d meet his demise. 

“Azriel, I can’t,” you murmured. “You know this.” 

“But why? Whatever reason or worry you have, tell me. I can’t stand leaving you here day and night. I can’t stand the thought of another having you.”

You rose from the bed, hiding your face from his sight so he didn’t see the tears lining your eyes. You quickly shrugged on a night gown, hugging yourself as you lingered by your dresser. 

You didn’t want to talk about this. You didn’t want to confront this head on. You couldn’t. Just like your other dreams, it would never come true for you. 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had pushed too far but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. I’ll drop it just please come back to bed.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. You should kick him out, send him home. You should tell him to never come back even if it meant you’d be stuck in this place forever without his death on your hands. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Come back.” 

The pure desperation in his voice had you folding. You laid back down next to him, let him take you in his strong arms once again. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The Third Attempt

It had taken at least twenty minutes for you to lug Azriel off the bed and into the chair that you dragged into the center of the room. The faebane laced sleep draught had done its part in this scheme. Azriel had been knocked out, his shadows nowhere to be seen. 

And now you were tying him to the chair with some strong rope, in knots you knew he wouldn't be able to undo. 

Another week had gone by with no attempts on his life due in part to your growing feelings for the shadowsinger. But a visit from Keir had you snapping out of whatever hold Azriel had on you. You needed to do this. You needed to kill him and put an end to this. It wasn't fair, it was never going to be fair but it had to happen.

Out of all the males you had killed, you knew this was the only one that would linger with you for the rest of your life. But it was a necessary sacrifice if it meant you could not only leave this awful city but this Labyrinth too. 

You decided you weren't going to be a coward about this. Azriel deserved to be looked in the eyes as you killed him, otherwise the shame might just eat you alive. It would be so much easier to just try and poison him again but you knew this was the only way it would get done. Maybe you could explain it to him, maybe he would understand. 

Hell, part of you was hoping he'd fight his way from the binds and end your life himself. Would that be a better outcome to this mess? 

You were still debating that.

For now you leaned against the wall, fiddling with your dagger as you waited for him to wake up. You had spent all last night making sure he was happy—content. You had given him everything. Your body, your heart, your mind. It would be your last gift to him. 

But your freedom was hanging in the air between the two of you and that far outweighed anything else. You had been lost in this labyrinth for far too long. It was time for you to finally find your way out. Unfortunately, your way out was through th—killing the one male who had made you feel things you'd never thought you would.

"A-Angel?"

Azriel's hoarse voice made you stand up straight, your gaze falling on him tied to the chair. He blinked a few times, still a bit drowsy from the draught. You watched as he slowly realized his predicament, that he was tied up and without his shadows. He yanked at the binds that had his arms held behind his back, strung up to the chair. 

"Angel," he repeated, finally catching sight of you, "What...what is this? Why...why am I tied up?" 

You stalked forward and he noticed the dagger you held in your hand. His eyes went wide with alarm and he stared up at you in disbelief. He tried to yank himself free again, making the wood of the chair groan. 

“What are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to do this,” you started with a sigh. 

Azriel stopped his struggling, raising an eyebrow at you. “Do what?”

“Kill you,” you said, bluntly. 

Azriel was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your brows furrowed in confusion at his reaction. Normally this was when males started demanding you untie them or pleading for their lives depending on how much pride they had. 

“What’s so funny?” You snapped, taking a step closer to him. 

Azriel shook his head, his laughter fading. “You’re not going to kill me.” 

You frowned. “I am. I have to.” 

Azriel leaned back in the chair, his wings held out proudly. He had completely ceased his struggling, all the alarm gone from his eyes. “And pray tell, Angel, why do you have to kill me?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Not to you anyways.” 

“Well, seeing as I am the one about to die,” Azriel remarked, so nonchalantly, “then I think it does matter.”

He smirked at you, furthering your confusion. Why was he acting so…so calm?! You narrowed your eyes at him, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Why are you smiling?” You huffed, fisting his hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. You pressed the dagger against his pulse point. 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control here,” he shrugged, that smile not leaving his face. 

“I am in control here,” you snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one tied up!”

“Am I?” He drawled out before yanking at the binds again. “Ah, you’re right. I am.”

You stepped away from him with a sneer. “Why are you acting like this!”

“Like what, Angel?” He smirked at you again, flicking his hair out of his face. 

“Like I’m not about to kill you! Like you’re not about to die!” 

“I’m hoping we can talk this out,” Azriel shrugged. 

“There is nothing to talk about,” you growled, frustrated. You’d expected some yelling or shouts from him, maybe a few pleas thrown in but not whatever this was. 

“I beg to differ,” he replied, “seeing as I’m about to die, I’d like to know why.” 

“Because…you…I—fuck!” You turned away from him, holding the sides of your head in exasperation. You squeezed your eyes shut, Keir’s words replaying in your head on repeat. 

The smile dropped from Azriel’s face at the show of your distress. “Angel, come on. Just drop the dagger and talk to me. Whoever has put you up to this can be dealt with.” 

“You don’t understand,” you cried out. 

“Then make me understand,” Azriel pleaded. “Please.” 

“I have to kill you, Azriel,” you wept. “I have to or I’ll be stuck here forever.” 

“Stuck here? Stuck in The Labyrinth?”

“Yes!” You let out a tiny sob, still not facing him. “If I don’t….if I don’t kill you, I won’t be able to leave.” 

“Angel,” Azriel whispered, “Why would you be stuck here? If you need help leaving, I’ve already offered to get you out.” 

You whirled around to face him. “I can’t just leave, don’t you get it! I can’t just walk out of here like you. I’m trapped.”

“Trapped? Angel, please explain it to me. You’re not making any sense.”

“I was so, so stupid. So stupid, so naive,” you cried. 

“Just tell me what it is,” Azriel said, gently. “Let me help you!”

“You can’t,” you whispered, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “You can’t help me. Not with this.” 

“Why?”

“Because I made a bargain with Keir,” you said, staring down at the dagger in your hand. “All the girls here have to do it. We get to work here, not get sold off and eventually we will be allowed to leave but…”

“Not without a price,” Azriel filled in the blanks. “So what do you owe Keir favors or something?”

You shook your head. “We’re given marks and targets. He tells us a name and we…we kill them for him.” 

“And let me guess, Keir gave you my name?”

“Yes, he did,” you sighed. “You’re supposed to be my last mark. After this…I’ll be free.”

Silence fell over the room. Silence until Azriel uttered one sentence. 

“So kill me.”

Your head shot up in surprise. “W-what?”

“Kill me,” he repeated, staring directly into your eyes. “If it means you’ll be free, if it means you can leave this place and have a life of your own…kill me.”

“Azriel,” you murmured. “I—”

Azriel yanked himself out of the binds, causing you to gasp. He gripped your arm and dragged you to him, angling the dagger right against his heart.

“Do it, Angel,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Kill me. I want you to be free. I want a better life for you. So kill me.” 

You stared at him, tears pouring down your face. Your hand was shaking as you held the dagger against his skin. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Azriel was giving you his permission, telling you to do it, to kill him. 

He kept a firm grip on your wrist, burying the dagger deeper so it pricked his skin. A small droplet of blood formed, sliding down his bare chest. “Do it, Angel, please.” 

“I-I…I can’t,” you sobbed. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself to push the dagger straight through to his heart, you couldn’t. “I can’t.” 

“Why?” Azriel asked. “Why can’t you?”

“I just…I can’t—”

“Why!” Azriel shouted, making you jump. Your hand was shaking so bad now, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “Why can’t you do it! Tell me why!”

“I don’t know,” you stuttered out through a sob. “I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do,” Azriel said, sternly. “You know why.”

You shook your head, sobbing. He pressed the dagger deeper into his skin. “Why can’t you kill me, Angel? Come on, you know. You know why.” 

He was right. 

You knew why.

You’d known all along. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him that night he came to your room. Something deep inside of you had recognized it and subconsciously buried it. But you couldn’t deny it any longer. 

“Say it,” Azriel demanded. “You know why. Say it!”

You let out a sob.

“You’re….you’re my mate.”

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

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[chunghasweetie]

Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.

What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk

— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown

It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.

Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.

His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.

“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.

She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.

She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.

She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”

Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.

She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.

Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”

“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.

He was finally home.

“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”

“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.

“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.

“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”

“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”

“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”

“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”

She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”

“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."

Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.

“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”

“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.

"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.

“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.

“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”

Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”

“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.

Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.

“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.

For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.

She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.

She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.

But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.

She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.

She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.

Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.

He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.

After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.

He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.

“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”

Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.

“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”

She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.

He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.

He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.


Couldn’t get enough.

“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.

“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.

He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”

“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."

She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.

She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”

Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.

He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.

"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.

“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.

She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.

Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.

He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"

“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.

“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.

Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."

He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”

“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”

“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.

Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.

Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”

She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.

Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.

"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”

She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”

Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.

"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.

Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."

“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.

Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."

He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.

“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."

He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”

“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.

"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.

“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.

Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.

He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those

"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"

“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.

She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.

She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.

She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”

“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”

“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”

“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”

“I hate you.”

He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."

“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.

Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.

Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.

He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more

Seductive.

Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.

“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” She pecked his lips.

A few minutes later.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She pecked his lips.

More minutes go by.

“One more? Last time really.”

“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.

“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.

“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.

Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”

His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”

“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.

Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."

“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.

Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"

“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”

Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"

“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.

Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."

He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”

“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.

Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.

Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”

“Daddy please—“

“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."

His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.

“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”

Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”

“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.

Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.

Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.

“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"

“Y-Yes”

“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.

The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?

“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”

“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”

The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.

“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.

"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.

"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.

“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.

He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.

The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.

He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.

"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.

“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”

“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.

The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.

“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.

She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.

She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.

He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.

Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.

“I still got it.”

“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”

[leilanihours]

# SHE WAS CRYIN' ON MY SHOULDER, ALL I COULD DO WAS HOLD HER

pairing: paige bueckers x ex gf!reader

word count: 851

warnings: arguing, crying, mentions of abandonment/past relationship

summary: you and paige both have things you need to get off your chests one year after you break up.

⭑ from lani: to that anon i told my next fic would be for kate im so sorry 😭 i was crying to this song earlier and i just needed to write paige to it - so heres my first ever angst fic i hope its not horrible 😛

"Y/N, YOU LEFT me, remember? you left!"

"you didn't even bother to stop me, to fight for me- for us!"

neither of you knew how this escalated so quickly. how a friendly reunion turned into a screaming match.

"it's not my job to pick up the pieces of the shit you broke! so i'm sorry if i didn't feel like working myself over for someone who had no issue leaving."

you know her apology is insincere, sarcastic. but for a split second when you hear her say "i'm sorry," your heart aches for the words you've spent the past year mourning.

"paige," you sigh, trying to calm down before you say something you don't mean, "i know it seems like it, but i did not want to leave the way i did. i didn't have a choice."

"bullshit-"

"can you just be quiet and let me talk?" you snap, immediately shutting her up, "last summer when i disappeared, it was because of my parents. they forced me to come home to them even after i told them i wanted to stay here in connecticut. i swear to you, paige, i fought for us. you didn't see it but i went through hell fighting. and i'm sorry for ending it the way i did but, paige...we were bound to end it at some point. we both knew that. i had to go home eventually."

you both had tears streaming down your faces at this point, chests heaving from not being able to breathe properly.

you stood in front of paige, slowly pacing back and forth as she sat with her arms crossed on the cold park bench absorbing your words.

the darkness of the night engulfed the atmosphere, contributing to the inevitable breaking of your once-intertwined hearts. the only light was dim from the far away lamp post, rusting away from its former beauty - similarly to how you and paige used to be a work of art together, but were now nothing more than a mess of spilled emotions and pent-up grudges.

"and i understand that, y/n, but i deserved an explanation- a goodbye, at the very least. or at least i thought i deserved that."

"don't do that," you challenge, referring to the way she degraded herself in front of you, "is that why you didn't try? to save us?"

"why else wouldn't i? i thought you hated me, i thought-" she pauses to catch her breath and wipe some of the tears that had fallen on her pink lips, "i thought you didn't care about us. as if that summer didn't mean shit to you."

"paige i-"

"no, now it's your turn to listen," she demands, pulling you to sit next to her on the bench, both of her cold hands holding yours, "i never felt so strongly about someone the way i felt about you. i couldn't imagine spending my time away from you, i mean, it literally hurt. so i took advantage of that summer, i took advantage of the little time we had together. and then when i found out you left without a word to me, it broke me. and i know you didn't see it but ask literally any of my friends. i didn't get out of bed for days in a row. i didn't eat, i didn't practice, nothing. it was like you stole the good parts of me, took it, and ran. i needed you, y/n, but you were on the other side of the country. what am i supposed to do with that?"

she's full on sobbing now, shoulders shaking as she doesn't even try to hold in her tears now. you swear you can hear cracks in your own heart and bones forming as she confesses what she went through.

you can't bear watching her suffer anymore, tightly wrapping your arms around her shaking frame. hugs like these were second nature, but this time was different. there was more meaning behind it.

your embrace acted as a shield against any future problems that were to be thrown onto your paths. your embrace acted as a glue repairing the broken pieces of your relationship that laid destroyed for the past how many days. your embrace acted as a genuine embrace.

"paige, i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry, baby, i never wanted to leave you, you have to know that. i'm so sorry," you whisper into her hair.

one of your hands stroke her head buried in your neck. you feel her tears drip onto your thin jacket, soaking you with guilt as it hits you how desperate you were to spend the rest of your life making it up to this girl.

it was clear to you that she actually did care, unlike how you thought last summer. and because of how she was crying on your shoulder, you needed to forget about that version of her you spent so long hating - the version that constantly haunted the back of your mind.

you needed to hold her. and hold her. and hold her. and never let go.

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

hey babe!!! can you do a fic where reader is graduating college and thinks Emily can't be there, but readers family and Emily make a plan for Emily to be there? I really hope this makes sense I thought of it but I didn't know how to put it into words 🥹

GRADUATE || EMILY ENGSTLER

summary: your parents find a way for emily to be at your graduation

pairings: emily engstler x fem graduate!reader

word count: 386

warnings: none

authors note: hi anon thanks for this request!! idk if i really like this but whatever! also guys pls imagine the scene where emily carries reader like that one video of em and hvl 😁 idk if that made sense but you get me okay

You picked your nails as it got closer and closer to the initial of your last name.

It felt weird not having Emily at your graduation. It was like something was missing.

Two weeks prior, she told you that she wouldn’t be able to make it because of the conflict in schedules and flights while apologizing multiple times.

You reassured her, saying that there was always a live stream she could watch even though you couldn’t deny that you were kind of disappointed as well.

‘It’s not the same.’ She frowned through the screen of your facetime.

“Y/N L/N.” The Dean announced your name, along with the majors you took.

You grinned, walking on the stage and receiving your diploma.

You faced the camera, smiling for the picture while searching for your parents.

You spotted your parents as you were walking down the stairs and waved at them.

When they waved back, it wasn’t just the two of them. They were three?

Your mouth dropped once you saw the familiar tattoos on the mystery girl’s arm.

Emily grinned, blowing you a kiss.

Your mouth was still open, not being able to process things as you walked back to your seat.

After what seemed like forever, the ceremony was coming to an end. You moved your tassel to the other side and threw your cap up, immediately walking towards where your parents and Emily were sitting.

Once you spotted Emily’s tall figure, you ran towards her with a huge grin on your face and jumped into her arms.

She held you close as you wrapped your legs around her waist, stumbling back slightly.

“My beautiful graduate. I’m so proud of you.” She mumbled into your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You pulled away and landed on the ground.

“It was all your parents’ idea. They helped me with the flights and everything.”

You turned around to face your parents, giving them both their own hug.

“We’re so proud of you!” They both kissed your head and grinned. “Come on! Let’s get a picture of the two of you.”

You stood beside Emily, who wrapped an arm around your waist while bringing you closer.

Emily kisses the side of your head. “I’m so proud of you baby.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

“You guys are so cute!” Your mother squealed.

You groaned. “Can we get dinner now? I’m starving.”

[zriasstuff]

Love is embarrassing

Mattheo Riddle x reader (fluff imagine, idiot in love :3)

Warning: mischaracterization ? maybe. but since he is made up anyway i get to write painfully self indulgent stuff :) anyway click on masterlist for more

Once you caught his eye, there was no way he wasn’t going to make you his. But you were different from all his other crushes. Around you, he somehow felt…nervous? Mattheo Riddle’s vocabulary certainly didn’t entail “nervous” nor “rejection”, yet those two things consumed him like they never did before.

Of course he would eventually face his fears, but before he got there he would simply have to satisfy himself in other ways. If approaching you wasn’t an option, staring at you from afar definitely was.

And before he forgot, he promised himself that he wouldn’t tell his friends. Not yet at least. He really didn’t feel like being ridiculed for being shy.

Staring from afar turned out to be quite the feasible option. Since you sat across the room from him in most classes, he would only have to put his head in his hand and there you were. The most perfect face he’d ever seen, flowing hair and just the right amount of cute and sexy. Everytime you ran your hand through your hair and flipped them in the most elegant way, his pupils grew wider.

Seeing you awakened the inner protector in him. He just had to be by your side. As long as he wasn't, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy a peaceful day.

And just then his day took a pretty embarrassing turn. “Mr.Riddle, if you could stop staring at ms.y/n for just a second, you would’ve maybe heard my question the first time. But I am going to ask again…”

All the students immediately burst out laughing, his friends being the loudest. They couldn’t help but turn their heads towards you too, to see who the Mattheo Riddle was checking out. You could feel your cheeks heating and tried hiding your face a little. Why did Snape have to be such a prick about him not paying attention…

Mattheo grinned awkwardly at his comment, trying to play it off. Unfortunately his friends weren’t going to let this opportunity to embarrass their boy go.

“AWEEE MATTYS’ GOT A LITTLE CRUSH”, Blaise yelled across the room, causing even more outrageous laughs from everyone.

Tom wasn’t helping by loudly announcing “Don’t say that Blaise. It’s not a little crush, if anything it’s a big boy crush.”

More mocking and laughter followed his doom. He looked over at you, to see how you were reacting. He swore if this was what ruined his chances he would strangle everyone, including Snape, one by one…

It was like you could read his thoughts because instead of the reassuring look he’d hoped for, you were giggling with your friends. The chances were beginning to look slimmer and slimmer.

“That’s enough”, Snape finally chimes in, “quiet down now, or you will all have to write a three page essay.” For the rest of the class Mattheo’s mind kept spinning. How could it not.

Although his friends were idiots ninety nine percent of the time, there were rare moments of wisdom. This time was not one of them. Their advice was simply “stop being such a pussy, mate.” Eloquently put as always, but they had a point. He had to remind himself of who he was again. So what if Snape embarrassed him in front of everyone? Wasn’t he handsome and charming enough for it to just make him seem more adorable?

Eventually you two got to separate yourselves from your friend groups, allowing you to enjoy an actual conversation.

…

“So am I getting my hopes up for nothing, or were you genuinely staring at me?”, you bluntly ask him. You had to know whether Snape only said that to punish him for no reason, or if he actually had a point.

“What do you think, gorgeous?”, he cheekily replies. “I wonder how anyone could not stare at someone as pretty as you”

“You’re so stupid”, you chuckle at his attempt to charm you.

“Stupid is not something you should be calling your future boyfriend you know”

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More. | 2

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: short, no smut! (surprisingly), just fluffy shit for father’s day <44 😘

SUMMARY: Congratulations! You had the twins! time to deal with lewis and his new dad antics (again), but first, here’s two cute moments.

(1)

✮✮✮✮

“You happy now?”

You stare at your husband through tired and teary eyes, watching him cradle your daughter in his arms. You had just gone through twenty hours of labor, spending half of those hours at home and in pain and the other half in the hospital. When you got there you could barely walk, every contraction you felt striking your belly and back which made your knees weak. You swore hours earlier it was just braxton hicks, but your twins soon proved you wrong. Very, very wrong.

When you heard both their cries erupt in the room, you smiled in victory as you were finally done with the most crucial part.

“You did so good, love”

Lewis praised you with stray tears he could no longer hold in trailing down his cheeks, a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead before he did the same to the twins. The boy who was born first, with no surprise, looked exactly like Lewis. He was a spitting imagine of your other set of twins when they were babies, but that daughter of yours? All you. Exactly three minutes apart, when she arrived the nurses were starting to wonder if Lewis was in the room at all when she was conceived.

You looked at the two newborns, just as proud of your work as god himself was.

“You know, I was gonna lose it if she was a boy” You spoke while gently brushing your fingers through your son’s soft hair. Lewis chuckles and lays besides you in the hospital bed, his eyes switching attention from baby to baby, but never letting go of his babygirl. You smile and let him have his moment. You knew the hogging was mostly because of him being in shock that he actually got his girl, He’d be all over your son also come morning time.

“I’m in awe how much she looks like you. Usually they don’t look like anyone right away but wow…she’s all you, Y/N” Lewis expresses, a finger caressing her blushed cheek. You just nod in agreement, laughing at how her hair stuck up in the front like spikes while everything else laid down. Lewis was too busy gushing over both of them to point out how silly either of them looked.

✮✮✮✮

When you two took the babies home, it was hard to keep the twins away from them. Your boys were there peeking over your shoulder at every feeding, every burping, every changing, even every bath. They had started to ask when they’d be big enough to play with, a toy in both of their hands as they waited for your answer. Before you could speak, Lewis was already speaking, serving them with the facts while simultaneously burping the baby in his arms.

“They won’t be able to play with you two for a while. They’re too small right now and they don’t do much but sleep and eat”

Your boys pouted, one rolling his eyes back dramatically. “Well, that’s boring! They’re boring!” Silas, the older one huffed, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Both you and Lewis cackled, but the boys found nothing funny. “Yes, babies are boring for the first few months”

“Why’d you go and get two more then?” Silas’s face scrunched as he asked and you tried helplessly not to laugh so loud at the poor baby that the infant in your arms would jump out of her sleep.

“Yeah, Lewis…Why did we ‘get’ two more?” Egging it on, you look back at your husband for another answer, your face riddled with amusement as he completely curves the question. “Any questions other than that? Saint?”

“So they can’t throw a ball? or catch it?” Saint inquired as he went back to the previous topic, sitting next to his brother. You shake your head ‘no’ and they both sigh.

“And they can’t talk either?” Silas asks, earning another laugh from you and Lewis. You two thought the constant questions would stop at three, but your boys were a curious pair. You’d only hope the next set were a bit more tame but with how the universe humbled you the last time...

“If you hear them talking before they hit nine months then please inform daddy so he can call Guinness world records”

✮✮✮✮

💌: again, superior trope, dad!lewis for the win, muah!💋

[blighted-lights]

The ravage clone 😭 I do imagine soundwave would be overjoyed at first thinking somehow she survived. "I knew lord megatron was wrong, ravage is just built different." Then he'd get pissed as hell at shockwave because that is NOT ravage! (He still takes care of her anyways).

It reminds me of this tiktoker who cloned her cat so she could have another one after the og died and she got pissed because the new cat had a different personality. Yeah they look the same and have the same DNA but they do not have the same memories/experiences!! It will never be 100% an exact clone.

Differences like that would make it bittersweet because soundwave would feed her ravage's favorite food to find out they don't share the same tastes and he'd spiral.

HI YIKES!! (referencing this post here, btw, which you all should look at and send me asks about hehe <3)

and i have to say that everyone who's left tags and comments so far on that post (plus inbox messages, thank you <3) has been FAR kinder in terms of angst levels of this idea than what i originally had planned. soundwave initially does have some vague hope that this ravage is the original ravage when he first meets her, BUT this hope is immediately dashed. he can tell from the start that she isn't the original ravage and shockwave outright admits to her being a clone 😔

shockwave's entire plan with cloning ravage was both as an emotional support to soundwave after they lost the original ravage AND, in true shockwave fashion, a bit of a manipulative move. soundwave's work and self-care have absolutely tanked with the loss of ravage. shockwave figured that bringing her back, or at least some version of her, would make soundwave feel obligated to take care of her- and it does! but to take care of this new ravage, soundwave has to take care of himself as well or he risks not being able to provide her what she needs. soundwave's self care goes back up, he starts working more effectively because he's properly fueled and rested, and shockwave considers it a win!

it's,, not a win tho, because ravage's clone is her own individual person and the pressure of trying to live up to the original ravage is suffocating. and since shockwave is her creator, she prefers being around shockwave over being around soundwave, and it ends up being a Mess™️. this cloned ravage also has very vague imprints of the original ravage's personality traits, but it's So obvious to anyone paying attention that she isn't the original at all.

soundwave also has no idea how to process the existence of this new ravage as she is a clone of one of his closest friends- his oldest friend, really. he's going through a lot of conflicting emotions while grieving- and that's not even going into what the other cassettes are feeling

[the-faceless-bride]

More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)

<- Part 1

Imagine being dangerously in love.

Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.

Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.

Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.

Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."

Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."

Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."

Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.

Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.

Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...

Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.

Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.

Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...

Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.

Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates

Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.

Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.

Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...

Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.

Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn

Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon

Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.

Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."

Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.

Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.

[wandascrush]

Welcome to the world

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pain, birth, crying, water breaking

Cold sweat lined your forehead when you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness in the room. You flung your sheets off the bed and sat up, immediately holding your tender belly. You felt nauseous, cramped up, and sweaty- the worst combo. Immediately, you waddled over to the restroom, splashing cold water on your face and taking shallow breaths in and out. Phew- you were calming down, everything was okay. Just the normal symptoms when your 38 weeks, nothing new.

You hoped the warm light pouring into the bedroom wouldn’t wake up your exhausted wife that only got four hours of sleep the night before, tending to your early morning sickness. You felt bad but hey, you were equal, it’s not like you got any sleep either with this little one growing inside you. You finished drying your face off with a towel and drinking some water through the sink when you decide to head back to bed and try to get more rest, it was probably just some Braxton hicks pains. That is until you felt a gush of water down your legs, your water broke

“Nat-,” she didn’t even stir. You gripped the side of the door frame, hands turning red as you groaned out in pain, “Natty!”

Two hours later you were in a delivery room, damp with sweat and a worried, but excited, wife holding your hand. The hospital lights flooded your vision as nurses and doctors came in and out, checking your dilation. 

Tender lips brushed the top of your head, “Shhhh detka, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for, just a little earlier than planned. Breathe, that’s it, in and out, just like that sweetheart,” and when you looked into her eyes you’d never seen so much love from another human. Your stomach immediately cramped again, pain washing over you as you closed your eyes and took shaky breaths out loud.

Clint was on his way with Laura, the future uncle and aunt of your child, speeding down the highway. Steve, your baby's future Godfather, was two hours away picking up flowers for you, a teddy bear for your little one, and candy for Natty and himself. The rest of the group was getting back from a mission overseas, no doubt they would miss the birth, but you knew they’d be there ASAP.

The warm glow of the bright lights kept you up, even as you tried to shut out all other senses. Closing your tired eyes and imagining what the cries of your baby would be like was the only thing that brought you comfort. Once the pain subsided and nurses stopped poking and prodding you, images of your new family of three eased your mind.

Natasha was right by your side, rubbing your back through the pain and nausea, dabbing your forehead with a cold compress for the hot flashes and feeding you ice chips. In this moment she swore to herself you’d never looked so beautiful. You were her dream come true. All three of you. An hour later your redhead had to step out to update Maria and Fury on what was going on.

At first, sure Fury was disappointed to lose one of his best agents for a couple months for maternity leave- but he couldn’t hide his excitement either.

Laura’s sweet gaze was above you in the meantime, gently lifting your head up to press cold compresses on your neck and chest.

“Hey momma, how’re we holding up?” She grabbed some water for you and adjusted your pillow. 

“Well, for starters I feel like a tiny human is kickboxing with my insides…so right on point I’d say.” You tried to sit up on your elbows, wriggling your way through the copious amounts of hospital sheets.

It felt like hours before the nurses gave you the go-ahead to start pushing. You had never been so glad for any decision like the decision to get an epidural during delivery. Was it still painful? Hell yes. But did it hurt a lot less? Also, hell yes. Natasha felt useless watching you, not being able to help. It was like being stabbed in the chest every time she heard you scream or start to cry. The best she could do was not keel in pain when you practically broke her hand from squeezing it so hard. And then- in a magical instant- she was here. 

Mae Lena Romanoff. 

This beautiful, new child you just delivered was crying and being wrapped in a blanket.

You and your wife’s biggest dream had arrived and she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Her nose was the same as her momma’s, with your e/c eyes. She had a full head of brownish-reddish hair like Natasha’s, damp on her small head. You couldn’t help yourself from crying, sobbing really, as you looked at this little doll in your arms. And as you looked up at Natasha, she was crying too.

The nurses started cleaning you up and doing all the usual routines after giving birth, making sure not only your baby was healthy but yourself as well. Natasha took the baby in her arms and sat by you, marveling at this little joy she created with her wife. Her gentle arms cradled the baby close to her ear as she whispered to her, “Welcome to the world, little one. As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you. Not ever.”

An hour later the room was filled with Clint, Laura, their kids, and Steve. All of them gently stroked the baby’s head, cooing and “awww”ing. You held her close and pointed to everyone in the room, “That’s your Uncle Clint, he’s going to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow. And that’s your Auntie Laura, one of the best people you’ll ever meet. Those are your cousins that are going to play with you until you’re all grown up. And that right there, is Steve. The best Godfather anyone could ask for. Later on you’ll meet Tony and Pepper, they’ll get you into so many adventures. We’re all going to love you so much, sweet baby. ” If you could freeze this perfect moment in time, you absolutely would. You knew that as long as you had Natasha, your daughter, and this village to help raise her- your family would always be okay.

[merbear25]

Can you do Zoro, Sanji, and Luffy x single mother S/O? Would they treat their S/O’s son/ daughter as their own?

Hey, hey! This was so heartwarming for me to think about, so thank you for sending in your request! Personally, I can’t see them being anything other than accepting towards the child. Generally speaking, they’d see them as an extension of you, so there’d be no reason for them not to care for them like their own. I hope you like what I’ve written for you 💜💜

CW: fluff, fem!reader (single mom), headcanons/scenario, written with them dating the reader and not married to her.

One of their own (Monster trio)

Zoro

Upon first meeting your child, he was unintentionally intimidating to them. Being the large scarred man that he was, it took awhile for the kid to warm up to him. With small yet thoughtful interactions, trust was built on a solid foundation. He became someone your child could turn to when they felt unsure about something, knowing that Zoro would come at the issue with a level head.

Playtime would always leave the child worn out. It’d be perfect if they were younger, so you could lay them down to sleep much more easily. Sometimes they passed out on the couch, so Zoro would be the one putting them to sleep, seeing as their dead weight would be easy for him to haul off to bed.

He’d be stern yet caring, not giving the kid room to run a muck because he’d always be respectful of the rules you’d set in place. The child learned quickly that they couldn’t try to get their own way if you told them no. “Can I have some candy?” types of questions were always followed by, “What did your mother say?”

Sanji

When you first introduced him to your child, he was very warm and open towards them. Your child took to Sanji almost instantly. With a smile that was inviting and comforting like an embrace, he easily became one of your child’s favorite people. They felt at ease around him; he was caring and gentle but wasn’t a pushover (unless your daughter gave him puppy dog eyes).

One of their favorite activities would be cooking and/or baking together. He’d adore being able to share his passion with them. They’d be put in charge of certain aspects of the meal, so that they felt like they were contributing to whatever delicious food was being prepared. When it was time to lay them down to sleep, Sanji would read them a bedtime story, wanting to show them the affection that his father never gave him.

He’d never cross the line when it came to how you ran your household, treating the boundaries you’d set in place with the utmost respect. Even if your child tried to pull on his heartstrings with an adorable look, he’d honor your rules—despite it being extremely difficult sometimes. Sanji would want to spoil them, so just be sure to keep an eye on him.

Luffy 

The first time you introduced Luffy to your child, he was warm and friendly. However, there was just something about him that made your child feel like they needed to scope him out before they could feel comfortable around him; he was, after all, a very unusual person. The more time they spent around him, the easier it got to come around. They then would ask you all the time when Luffy was coming over.

Being the imaginative man that he was, Luffy would create games seemingly out of thin air. Since he was more of the ‘do now think later’ type, your house became subjected to much of their wacky fun. With a few broken items here and there, he apologized profusely for the recklessness and promised to take their fun outside from then on.

Even though he was playful and light-hearted, he still had moments when he was serious. When you or your child needed him to be that, he’d step up and do what had to be done. With that in mind, you and your child’s bond with him would strengthen and whenever you had down time to relax and watch something, more often than not you’d fall asleep on the couch together.

[canisalbus]

hello!!! I’m a tiny bit new to this blog, and I have a question about something you mentioned in your last post, about Machete as a toddler and being sick often… why is he so sick? Is it because of the environment/lack of resources, or does it have something to do with the dog breed itself? just the smallest thing I was curious about! and I hope you’re doing well, your art is so thoughtful and emotional, I’m glad I discovered your work!

I think the main thing that is making Machete sickly is his anemia, most of his symptoms and chronic health issues can be traced back to it. There wouldn't have been treatments available, since the disorder itself was only discovered in the early 1800's, roughly 200 years after his death in the original setting. (In fact the popular treatment for most ailments at the time was bloodletting, which, as you can imagine, only made things worse).

Anemia causes headaches, fatique and physical weakness so he was a listless, irritable and lethargic child. When severe enough, it starts to undermine your immune system, so he would've been catching all sorts of bugs, viruses and inflammations more often than what is normal (which isn't ideal when you're a financially pinched commoner living in the late 1500's with limited access to healthcare and no modern medicine like antibiotics). He wasn't eating or growing well and might've been hitting some of his developmental benchmarks later than what is ideal.

His albinism also poses some challenges his parents would've been unfamiliar with. When your body doesn't produce pigment, the structures of your eyes don't develope quite like they should, which leads to vision impairment and extreme light sensitivity. So his parents would be taking him outside on a sunny day (plenty of those in Sicily), and the sunlight would physically hurt Machete's eyes, but a small child wouldn't be able to clearly communicate what is making him so uncomfortable. Unlike most dogs, he also gets sunburnt very easily. In his parents' eyes he was a kid that was always a little uncomfortable, always a little sick, and fussy about things they couldn't understand.

[kaszuma]

Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.

warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.

wc: 9,712

–

note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.

I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!

There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.

There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..

Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.

Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.

–

The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.

The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.

In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.

Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.

For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.

Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.

By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.

He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.

The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.

And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.

A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.

The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.

And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.

A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.

His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.

Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.

To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.

Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.

And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.

Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.

He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.

Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.

But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.

By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.

And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.

It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.

It had been a daily routine at this point.

Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.

Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.

And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.

The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.

And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.

Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.

And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.

“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.

“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.

And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.

“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”

“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.

His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.

But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.

It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.

And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.

“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.

And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.

“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.

But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.

“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.

“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.

“Nope.” His mouth popped.

“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”

He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.

But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.

“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”

“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”

“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.

“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.

But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.

It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.

Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.

He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.

“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.

“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.

“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.

“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.

“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”

Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.

“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”

And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.

It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.

And he did not bother to correct him.

…

It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.

It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.

Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.

It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.

And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.

So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?

Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?

It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.

But that was easier said than done.

It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.

“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”

“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”

“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.

“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.

“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”

…

Soshiro was frozen on the spot.

He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.

So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?

And yet even then, he thought about it.

The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.

But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.

“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”

Strange?

Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.

“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.

“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”

The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.

Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.

You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.

“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.

“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.

”I suppose..” His reply was curt.

“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”

You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”

“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”

This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.

“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.

“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”

And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”

“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.

Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.

What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.

Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.

But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.

Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.

“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”

And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.

…

Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.

His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.

Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.

After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h

His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.

And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.

It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.

So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.

He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?

Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.

And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.

“It's you.” You had spoken.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.

You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”

He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”

This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth

So that's what you looked like when you smiled.

“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.

“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.

You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.

A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.

Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.

Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.

“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”

And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.

“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.

And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.

And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”

You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.

“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.

“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”

His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.

“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.

“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”

He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.

“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.

“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.

“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”

Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.

Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.

By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.

He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.

But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.

For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”

“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.

And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.

“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.

And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.

If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.

“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”

“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.

A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.

“And I can help you. If you let me.”

“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”

“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.

“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”

“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”

It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.

The very same words you've mocked him with.

“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.

“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”

“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.

“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”

Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.

“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”

He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.

“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”

“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”

“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.

“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”

“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.

“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.

Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.

And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.

“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.

“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.

Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.

If you’d allow it.

“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.

“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.

The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.

It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.

Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.

But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.

You offered him a chance to shine.

And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.

The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.

It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.

Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him

And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.

And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.

Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.

Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.

And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.

“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.

“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.

“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.

The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”

And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”

Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.

The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.

Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”

His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.

That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.

No.

This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.

“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.

The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”

You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”

Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.

One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.

Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.

And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.

And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.

A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.

But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.

“So, do you like it?”

Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”

“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.

“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.

“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.

And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.

“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.

“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”

You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.

Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.

“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”

Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.

But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.

Not yet.

“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.

You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.

“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.

“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.

“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.

“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.

“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.

“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.

His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.

“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.

“And how do I know you're being serious?”

“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”

And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.

And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.

Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.

Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.

And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.

And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

[its-alittleobssessed]

Could you imagine being Dean Winchester and constantly sacrificing everything for everyone else. Your food, your freedom, your happiness, and your free will for everyone else and then this guy comes in. This man who isn’t really a man.

He comes in when you’re at your lowest low. When you have succumbed and given your life, your hopes, and your morals to hell and he reaches you and touches you and says. You deserve good things. Means, I will make sure you get good things.

And you don’t believe him at first but then he says, I rebelled, Im hunted. I did it, all of it, for you. And not so much later, I’m doing this for you, Dean. And few years down the line, he gives up an army for you. And his own life a few times. And it gets to the point where you—who prides themselves on never needing anything or believing in anything—start needing him. Start having faith in him.

He stays and you realize that you’ve never had to sacrifice anything for that. For him to stay.

And he—this man who literally fell from the heavens—sacrifices all of it, including heaven, for you to stay.

And it is such a stark contrast to what you’re used to. Such an insane flip of everything you’ve ever known, that you don’t know how to deal with it. You don’t understand, don’t know how to handle it, so you try pushing him away. You yell and say ugly things and, once, (though you didn’t mean to—weren’t entirely yourself) you even hit him. And still. He sees all that bad inside you and all the bad you’ve done and he still. Stays. He still tries to stay.

It messes with your head. Something happens inside of you and you think—you think you might love him.

Maybe it’s all the sacrifices he’s done and the fact that you haven’t been able to match him up to them. But maybe it’s his kindness, too. And he’s funny in a weird—no one gets his humor but you—kind of way. He’s strong and capable. A good listener.

He’s—he’s beautiful, too. Devastatingly so.

He’s good with kids. He gets you. Likes your music and starts singing along to Zepp when its just you two in the car. He’s so much more than what he’s given you (he says the same thing about you) and you don’t deserve him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s the sacrifices that are messing with your head, but maybe it’s just him too. Maybe he’s just everything you’ve ever wanted.

He says you don’t have to sacrifice anything anymore. Not with him. And for the first time since you were a kid—it’s true.

[billskeis]

hi can you do Tom smut where he is dating reader and she likes reading and he just like tells her to read for him while he is fucking her and she just like struggles to talk and he is just kinda chuckling and listening to her

ᡣ𐭩 tom’s personal bookworm

lol haha hi so imagine tom kaulitz, considered the sexiest guitarist in germany right now as tokio hotel rises up to the top as rockstars with a bookworm reader. never really goes to their concerts because she enjoys her alone time but however will support from the other side of the screen as their concerts are constantly being streamed.

you were never the type to be upset about not being able to spend actual time with tom knowing his packed schedule, understanding and content with just being able to see him from afar.

reader loves book. and i mean, LOVES books. her whole room is filled with them. her parents were concerned for her every passing day because all she did was spend her allowance on books. not that they’re complaining because at the end of the day she was smart, humble, quiet. never really got herself into trouble since she would spend most of her days reading.

they’ve always wondered how she got a boyfriend that’s the total opposite of her.. mr popular who has thousands of girls just waiting for him to court them, is dating a nerdy nobody who only spends her free time reading? i guess you can say opposites really do attract.

tom now has been making more frequent visits to his girlfriend’s humble abode to catch her often stuck in a book that she’s been raving about the day before. rambling on how exciting it is to be able to start a fresh new book after just finishing one. it could only really take her a day to finish a thick novel that she had just purchased long ago, head in the clouds of true crime, thriller and fantasy. tom wishes his girlfriend would pay more attention to him now that he’s off tour and can finally spend time with her. ohoh, he’s jealous. jealous of a fucking book, or books, lol.

and all of a sudden, the new books that you have recently bought have been collecting dust, stuck on the same book for a week now.

tom had asked you to read out the dialogue between the main protagonist and the villain, sliding himself inside of you as he slowly fucks your soaking walls sitting on the ottoman stood at the end of your bed. “oh fuck, you’re tight.. ‘s been a while huh schatzi?” a firm grip on your ass as he holds your body upright, sitting in his lap as you hold a book in-front of you like a teacher standing at a podium. “t-tom, i can’t concentrate like this.”

“c’mon, read to me baby.” moving your hips up and down his length, slowly and agonizing, your cunt feels every inch and vein of his cock, the stretch just right as he presses kisses to your cervix with his tip.

you huffed in defeat, biting your lip before speaking, “a-and so.. you e-either—mmgh.. surrender to me or, o-or.. ah!” yelping as the curve of his dick presses against your velvety walls in a new angle, pleasure shooting through your body as legs threaten to shake. tom can only laugh at you, a throaty groan while he continues to move your body at a rhythm that satiates the both of you. he indulges in controlling how you ride him, a soft and pliable body made for him to fuck and distract her from what she loves the second most, him coming in first after all.

you hold onto your book for dear life, stuttering words as they struggle to fall off your lips, drool coming out more instead as you grind your hips on tom.

he silently watches you, watches how you fail to get a complete sentence out without choking on a moan or a whimper, chuckling as he is completely enamoured with your being. how pretty you are in his lap riding his cock as you attempt to fill out his request of storytelling one of your current reads.

but he listens. he listens as you break it down to him on how the superhero and the villain instead come to redeem themselves as lovers rather than enemies. and it’s quite sweet, isn’t it? how people on the opposite sides of the universe can just come together as one, quite ironic if you ask me. but he absolutely adores the way you read to him, even if it involves shoving his cock into your cunt, over, and over again.

as a hand holds your waist, he uses his other hand to rub your clit in front of him, your body jolts from the overstimulation as you leak onto his pelvic moan, juices spilling to seep onto the suede chair.

feeling overwhelmed, your book almost slips from your grasp as you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, complaining that it’s ‘too much’ and you ‘can’t take it,’ but he doesn’t listen, he can only press a kiss to your cheek and tell you “you’re doing good baby, just a few more pages mkay?” his hands massaging your waist as he bounces you on his cock. you swallow your words instead, incapable to recite the dialogue as you cried out in pleasure.

with a smirk plastered on his lips, tom takes the book from your hand and throws it to the bed behind you, he can’t risk in damaging your goods now! your struggle for speech was quickly replaced with the creak of the ottoman inside your bedroom, your back arching as your chest is now flush to tom’s clinging onto the body that bullies you as eyes roll back.

your head rests on tom as tears roll off your face and tongue lolls out onto his shoulder, you babble ‘sorries’ to tom, as you now realized that despite his time off, you prioritized the books you read 24/7 over your own boyfriend.

“s’okay.. i can—ugh, have my smart girlfriend all t’myself now, yea?”

so i didn’t proofread this lol >_<

anyways , i’m off to disappear for another couple days (maybe)

[phoenixblaze1412]

*cries* imagine kid reader wants to have bangs so one of the segments decide to cut them some but it ends up being too short and look horrible 😭

I tried my best with this one anon, hope you like it😭

Bangs.

Seeing your Aunty Sandrone was the reason why you're standing on a small stool and looking at your reflection in the mirror. It was her hair. The way her hair looks so pretty. Most importantly, her bangs.

Your father never really did give you a proper hairstyle, he just combed your hair to get rid of the knots before going to his work in the laboratory. But after walking along the hallways of the palace to grab a little snack and seeing the Marionette, you knew you wanted a hairstyle like hers.

You grabbed a comb and brushed your hair down before holding up a pair of scissors to cut your hair short.

"What are you doing?"

You jumped in surprise and quickly turned around to see Theta leaning by the door with his arms crossed.

"Didn't your father tell you not to hold something big and sharp yet until you're a teenager? You're gonna get yourself hurt, dumbass."

He huffed and grabbed the scissors away from your hands before looking over at the hairbrush and clips you left on the sink as he gave you a questioning look.

"What are you even doing with these?"

"I just wanted to have bangs like Aunty Sandrone! Papa never styles my hair and I wanted one! Please Theta!"

The segment would have immediately said no the moment you exclaimed you wanted your hair to be cut for some stupid bangs. But the moment you pulled out your ultimate weapon against him: those puppy dog eyes you mustered up. How could he say no to you...

"Okay! Fine! Come here."

Hearing him give in to your pleas to help you cut skme bangs was probably the most regrettable decision you have ever made.

Theta was never really skillful when it comes to hairstyles. He could slice open a cadaver but snipping and cutting hair? Not on his résumé.

He wasn't really sure how the Marionette was able to cut her bangs so he tried to cut it the same way as hers. Snipping some of your hair and combing it away with a brush before looking it over and grumbling to himself at how they were uneven and asymmetrical to the point that he keeps cutting it shorter and shorter until its even. He already gave up halfway through and left some parts uncut.

". . . Looks good enough."

Theta stared at your face before biting down on his lips to try and stop himself from laughing. Oh archons, he was terrible with hair.

"Thetaaaa!"

Your cries and wails can be heard from the hallways which caused the other segments to stop from their work.

"Ahaha! I said I'm sorry-! Hehehaha!"

The door to the laboratory was swung open as the segments stared flabbergasted at your tiny form, Theta following behind you with tears in his eyes from all the laughing he did. Some were trying to hold in their laughs, others were worried about you. Delta and Gamma was cackling very loudly in the back which made you cry more.

"What's all this commotion about?"

Zandik walked out from his office as he looked at his segments before glancing at you only to choke on his saliva at your current predicament.

"Papa!"

You watched as your father let out a fake cough to hide his laugh before walking over to pick you up.

"(Y/n), what have you gotten yourself into this time? You look... not like how you usually do."

Your father grabbed a small hand mirror and handed it to you as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Pouting at first before wailing at how you're stuck with your hair like that forever.

"I don't want Theta touching my hair anymore! He made me ugly!"

"HEHEHAHAH!"

"My dear, your hair will grow again. Although it will take a few months.."

"I'm uglyyy!"

[grind-pantera]

I’m curious to know when the first time Noa thought Reader was beautiful (because of or maybe in spite of her being an Echo) 🥰 I need some of your wonderful fluff

Let me just *SLIPS AND ALL THESE HEADCANONS COME OUT OF MY POCKET * Ah shit

Noa definitely finds you... Nice to look at, right off the bat of meeting. The prospect of beauty and thinking that way really doesn't settle into him until he's gotten to know you and finds aspects of your personality just as attractive as the outside appearance. It's probably during a lax day where you and he are working in tandem together on a project - maybe he needed your smaller fingers to work around something he was putting together for the Clan. Thankful for that, he watches intently as you tie a knot with twine, the crease between your brows catching his attention and causing his heart to flutter a bit on the inside as he recognizes your expression as being very focused. And he's absolutely floored at just how nimble your finger movements are compared to his own. Reckon, he's got strong fingers, but they are thick, they are not swift ( Only when he's signing and odds are he's fumbling over words at times because his hands can't keep up ). It's also a way to get you to be near him without explicitly asking. After you're done helping him tie the tiny knots that he needed, the smile? The radiance on your face, the tinge of redness that appeared to be right along your cheekbones, right under your eyes and upwards towards your ears. Your eyes, fluttering as always in the Sunlight, were now avoiding his own, your fingers pressing against each other as you wait for him to give you more direction, just happy to be of some help to the Apes.

I would imagine that moment... You smiling, genuinely at him, would get the cogs turning in his mind. He'd start connecting all the dots together like a puzzle, probably obsessing about it even after you're pulled away from the project by Anaya and Soona to go fish for the afternoon. Noa's torn apart on the inside thinking of all the times that he's caught you staring at him, your eyes wide, your cheeks welling with redness, the times that his shoulders have brushed against yours and even through the density of his fur, he was able to feel your heart beat quicken with his own. The reason why he liked to watch you with such acute focus and attention to detail is because the things he was seeing, albeit beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, were beautiful to him.

How you spoke. Beautiful, Noa would be blessed to hear your voice in tandem with his as he made you his mate.

How you looked at him. Noa wanted you to look at him like that always; He would do anything to make sure that happened.

How you touched him. Noa wanted you to be on top of him, not inherently sexual, but if you're on him, if you're near him, he's able to sink into it and become a part of you.

How you smiled at him. So gracefully, though he had observed you covering your mouth with your hand ever so often if your smile exploded into laughter.

All of these small moments, the smaller intricacies would draw Noa's mind to beauty. To say that you are an equal, if not beyond, the word itself. You, over time, become Noa's definition of beauty. ( Definitely amplified once you guys are a mated pair and he's able to dig into the aspects about you that he had only imagined before hand. I.E you naked. )

Caesar is probably the one where admittance of a human being beautiful is the easiest. He grew up with them, he was raised with them. He'd be a fool not to acknowledge that vain beauty was a human standard and he was pretty intuitive to it. NOW. That being said, he also gives off the secure vibe that while you are beautiful on the outside ( Which he'd be happy to admit noticing the first time you meet ), he's also very in-tune with his own self and will acknowledge that his needs go far beyond that of a shallow depth.

Actual beauty and admitting that he finds himself actually attracted to you in the sense that he'd want to mate takes a lot of time and a lot of trust building between the two of you. The more time you spend together, the more your beauty will shine for Caesar. You're smart, he likes that he's able to talk to you about more human ailments that maybe other Apes didn't understand. You're incredibly good with the young of the Colony, a trait that often took the forefront amongst Apes looking to mate. The one thing that gets him though, and it does it EVERY TIME. Is the way you look at him. He knows he commands respect, he gets it from his fellow Apes. What he didn't know he needed was getting it from you. And while your gaze is all respectful ( Even when you're thinking filthy things, tsk tsk ), there's always a glimmer of more there in your irises if he took time to stare deeply enough into them. First time actually admitting acute attraction and admitting that you were beautiful in the ways that actually mattered to him might happen at the moment you and he actually do become mates. Tangled in the animal pelts together, your face so deathly close to his own and your hot breath is cascading along his face. He had chosen you, you had chosen him. There's nothing more clear cut about it as Caesar grasps the back of your head and brings your forehead in so he can kiss it with his own. That moment, right there as you're brought to orgasm against him, face contorting as you uttered his name right against his lips, is the moment Caesar fell in love further and admitted to himself that your beauty knew no bounds anymore.

Blue Eyes is definitely the most oblivious to it. ( we all knew it was coming c'mon lol ) It probably takes him a while to even feel comfortable really looking at you unless it was just a passing glance. The Ape literally went 8 years without seeing a Human, and the first ones he had seen shot his friend so excuse his weariness. He'll build into it though, despite Koba constant chatter in his ear about just how bad ALL Humans were. Blue Eyes ultimately starts taking it into his own hands to establish his own opinions.

First off, your scent? Way different than anything he had ever experienced and it left a vaguely metallic taste in his mouth when he thought about it too long. Very stringy, not harmonious and more often than not, he can't really detect much outside of your sweat. ( You were nervous around them, understandably until you were able to actually trust. ) You refused eye contact with him more often that not, Blue Eyes had searched for your gaze a few times when Caesar had gotten on him for not being welcoming to you, biding to make eye contact to establish some sort of relationship with you that wasn't based in hostilities like your relationship with Koba.

Blue Eyes was better than that. He'd bite the metaphorical bullet and force himself to get close to you in hopes that maybe it'll expand his mind into the way that his Father thought about humans. Well, it was hard to be welcoming to someone who was so shut off, Blue Eyes wanted to tell his Father but he grinned and bared it. With our baby boy, I see it happening all of a sudden and without warning, leaving him more perplexed than before, concepts of beauty and all were not engrained in him. He really only looked for the qualities he wanted and that was it. Ash had brought his attention to you one day, you're washing your clothes at the river while the Apes fished for the communal dinner that evening.

The way the sun is playing against your bare shoulders, Blue Eyes hadn't known you to wear shorter sleeved shirts and the dip of your collarbone captivated him for a few seconds longer than really needed, the pit in stomach churning with unease and resting a BIT too closely to his lower navel, drifting downwards between his legs. The bounce of the light off the water below, alighting your expression. Timid. You were... Having a good time doing whatever you were doing, the idea of actively washing your clothes in a cycle completely foreign to him. ( Weekly basis, Blue Eyes noticed. Underwear a bit more frequently when he was able to sense it was your time of the month, which face it, the Ape knows. ) You're suddenly splashed in the face by Cornelius who had taken time away from the grasp of Caesar to enjoy wading the shallow water, beckoning you to play, knowing you often caved at his cute demeanor and gave him what he wanted. And you did, as per Blue Eyes' suspicions. The smile you graced his baby brother with left the older Apr Prince bristling at the shoulders fur standing on end, his breathing rapid as he sought to inhale and exhale through his nose to keep himself from unraveling at the unknown ideas hitting him all at once. He doesn't know the premise yet, but the thoughts are there that you were nice to look at... That... That you were a good person, good with his brother, nice to Ash and himself. There was... no threat. Not in the way that you smiled, the way you carried yourself so carefully. Blue Eyes suddenly had no idea what Koba had been on and on about. You were... Beautiful.

Koba is the toughest to get an admittance out of, and it really never comes to fruition no matter how much you pestered him about it. His actions are still remarkably pseudo-aggressive towards you, and he really only asks to see you alone if he feels the primal urge to mate ( Not often, and unfortunately he is selfish and just uses you as a play thing to give himself satisfaction. ) At least, that's really how it starts. Easy, once a week, he'd lay with you and go on the rest of the days without having to worry or bat an eye in your direction.

Over time though, as things develop and get a more more complicated, he finds that he's more disgusted in small minute things about you. How your fingers tucked your hair behind your ear. Absolutely abysmal, how dare you. Now your scent was wafting his way and he couldn't find it in himself to stop his feet and hands as he dragged you away. Flashing him a smile when he was busy doing something, especially if he's talking to Caesar, inappropriate. He hated the feeling it caused in his stomach when he thought about the idea of your smiling being more for his closest friend than being for him. Honestly, he'd rather it be for Caesar. That way he could justify the anger that bubbled in him out of petulant jealousy. No reason to be jealous, you were free to be with whomever you wanted, and Koba was more than willing to relinquish you to an Ape who actually gave a damn about you ( His own twisted mind process, he'd rip off the face of anyone who gave you more than a seconds glance ).

Admittedly, the waves of aggression and disgust towards you are ultimately dusted in fine particles of his attraction. The first time it really hits him might be after he leaves you in the nest to take care of yourself after he lays with you ( the common thing, he'd hang out around your hut when you pleased yourself just to give himself the pleasure of knowing that he could bring you there, but he chose not to. ) Never admits to straight beautiful, maybe a tolerance of sorts as he hears your moans, able to clearly see what your hands were doing to yourself. Mild tolerance, you weren't as bad as his mind wanted to think, but he convinced himself otherwise over and over again that it must be the truth. That he wasn't feeling anything towards you than pure animosity, despite his deeper introspection saying otherwise.