#tea count is my best decision ever

[plutosrobin]

If you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself. Then, send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog!

no pressure of course :)

ty!!! i love these, took me ages to answer though bc i couldn’t not think of a single fun fact about myself

1. i crochet - just finished making a bee for my friends bday but i have also made a couple jumpers, a blanket, and a bunch of little animals

2. so far i’ve had 282 cups of tea in 2024 (my new year’s resolution was to keep a count of it for no apparent reason)

3. i study psychology, god knows why

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I CAN'T CLOSE MY EYES ALONE ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!

a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33

okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.

it’s not comfortable at all.

maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep. 

or someone.

(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)

— nope. you are not going back there. 

just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.

your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek. 

still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.

it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue. 

slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.

soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.

so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —

the light flickers on.

in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub. 

the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.

satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.

chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.

”you’re ridiculous.”

the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. 

”turn it off!”

ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.

you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.

you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting. 

despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.

and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.

because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.

remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.

(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)

then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.

which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.

and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes. 

(he can’t sleep, either.)

”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.

a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”

satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”

”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”

another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic. 

”you’ll hurt your back.”

another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him. 

”so what?”

a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn. 

what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?

god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.

but if you aren’t there, then…

a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”

your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.

it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it. 

”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.

satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.

(that should be his chest.)

the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.

satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.

a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.

a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.

”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”

your ears perk up.

shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.

is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.

”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”

…

wow. 

okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.

beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid. 

clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.

”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”

under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.

god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.

he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.

and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do. 

he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.

(without you, he can’t —)

a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.

the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.

so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.

(he knows that you’re tired, too.)

so satoru swallows his pride.

the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.

”… i can’t sleep without you.”

satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.

— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.

(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)

it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help. 

with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression. 

satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.

then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.

he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.

”… please?”

a second passes. then two. 

soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless. 

(he’s just too pretty.)

without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly. 

and satoru brightens.

it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.

a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue. 

”c’mere.”

before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.

almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.

satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.

with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.

satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”

after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.

despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.

and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.

smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.

two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.

he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.

”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.

”… the bathtub was fine.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.

”stubborn girl.”

despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —

but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress. 

and satoru stifles a coo. 

”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”

before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.

unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.

his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.

”my pretty, pretty girl.”

a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.

he looks so content.

all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.

”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.

satoru notices it, though. he always does.

”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.

averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.

despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.

”… you never take me seriously.”

satoru’s eyes soften.

his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.

(you look so small.)

two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu. 

”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”

as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.

tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology. 

for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.

nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.

he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him. 

”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.

satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”

a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.

and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.

finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.

(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)

[dixons-sunshine]

Spot Of Tea | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Marrying Daryl was one of the best decisions you ever made. He was no longer the hot-headed, rude hunter from the quarry who you couldn't stand. Instead, he was someone who you'd come to love above all else, someone who you bled with and shared a beautiful baby girl with. And just when you thought you couldn't love your husband more, he just had to go and have a cute little teaparty with your daughter.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: Back at it again with another Dad!Daryl fic, and this one was inspired by @louifaith's amazing idea! This was so cute and I just had to write this. Domesticity with Daryl is my favourite genre. I hope you like this!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

The sun was just starting to set. Everyone was starting to retreat into their homes for the night and the people on guard were switching shifts with the people on night shift. You were done for the day, a successful day's work in the infirmary adding a bounce to your step as you walked up the porch stairs and into your shared home with Daryl, locking the door behind you and shedding your coat.

The house was eerily silent. Daryl had sustained an injury while on a run and had been given the week off by Rick to heal. Although your husband had initially been against the idea, one look from you had shut any protests down—being the community's nurse and his wife gave you that advantage. It was already day three and he'd been spending all of his time with Hazel, your daughter. Each night you'd come home to find him watching some old cartoons he'd found tapes of with her in the living room, all cuddled up under a big, fuzzy, comfortable blanket.

So where were they that night, and why was it so quiet?

“Daryl?” you called out after searching the first floor of your small home with no sign of the archer or your daughter. You started descending up the stairs, but stopped when you got to the top. You could hear your three year old's voice coming from her room, soon followed by Daryl's own.

You walked down the hallway and into her room, stopping in the doorway at the sight that you met; your daughter sitting down on the ground in front of her bed, surrounded by her stuffed toys with the plastic tea set Daryl had found for her in the middle, with the archer himself sitting on the opposite side of her. The big, gruff man was "drinking" from the plastic teacup, sporting a plastic tiara. Hazel was happily babbling on, and Daryl was looking at her fondly, a small smile on his face as he hummed in agreement to whatever she said.

You leaned against the doorway with an amused smile on your face, silently observing your husband dutifully playing out Hazel's storyline. They hadn't noticed your presence yet, and you jumped at the opportunity to admire the two most important people in your life.

“Do you want some more tea, Daddy?” Hazel asked, pouring the imaginary tea into the cups of the stuffed animals surrounding her.

Daryl nodded and extended the plastic cup in her direction. “Yeah, 'course I do. Ya make the best tea in the land.”

Hazel giggled and poured the imaginary tea into Daryl's cup. “There you go, Daddy.”

“Thanks, Princess Hazelnut,” Daryl thanked her, taking a sip from the plastic cup and humming in approval. “Tastes good. Wha'd ya put in this?”

“My secret recipe,” Hazel responded with a giggle, placing the plastic teapot down on the ground, picking up her own cup. “You look pretty, Daddy. Like a real princess.”

Daryl chuckled and patted at the tiara on his head. “S'the crown. S'makin' me look like royalty.”

“Yeah, the look suits you,” you voiced, finally making Hazel and Daryl aware of your presence.

Hazel dropped the plastic teacup in her hands and hastily got up, rushing over to you. “Mama!”

You crouched down to catch her in your arms, picking her up and placing sweet, soft little kisses on her face. “Hey, baby,” you greeted her, an affectionate smile on your face. “Were you and Daddy having fun?”

“'Course we were,” Daryl chipped in, slowly getting up from the floor due to the injury on his leg. He walked with a noticable limp over to you, ruffling Hazel's hair. “We always have fun. Ain't tha' righ', Hazelnut?”

Hazel giggled and buried her face into your shoulder. “Yeah. Daddy played princesses and tea parties with me.”

“Yeah. 'M Princess Dana of the Forest Kingdom. This lil' one is Princess Hazelnut of the Fairy Kingdom. We were jus' meetin' up to form an alliance to fight against the dangerous Fire Tribe, who wants to destroy the forest and all the animals in my kingdom. We need the help of Princess Hazelnut and the Fairy Warriors to defeat them once and fer all,” Daryl explained, using a deeper voice for dramatic effect.

“Well I'm sorry I interrupted your meeting. Do you want me to leave?” you asked teasingly, sending the archer a playful smile over your daughter's head.

Hazel shook her head. “No. Daddy and I will finish tomorrow.”

“Well, I've got the day off tomorrow. Would you mind if I joined you two?”

“Yay! Mama's gonna join us, Daddy!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hugging you tighter.

Daryl smiled fondly at Hazel, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Yeah, I heard tha', Hazelnut. Mama's gon' help us defeat the Fire Tribe. They will no longer hurt the animals in my kingdom.”

“Yeah! Mama's gonna help us win!”

You laughed lightly at their theatrics, shaking your head. You placed another kiss on Hazel's forehead before placing her back down on the ground. “Why don't you go wash your hands and wait for me and Daddy downstairs? If you promise to be good, there will be a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise? Yay! Thank you, Mama!” Hazel exclaimed, hugging your legs tightly before bounding out of the room excitedly.

You chuckled affectionately at the little girl that brought so much light into your life. It amazed you how one small human being could fill a hole in your heart that you hadn't even realised existed before. Hazel was your pride and joy, your baby girl who you'd go to great lengths to protect, as would Daryl.

You turned back towards the archer and gave him an amused smile. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Daryl mused, stepping forward to place his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. “How was yer day?”

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm guessing,” you teased, laughing lightly. You gently took the tiara from his head, inspecting it. “Gotta say, though, the whole "Princess Dana" thing suits you. Never would've guessed it was you with this tiara on. You looked really pretty.”

“Stop,” Daryl said with a chuckle. “Hazel asked me to wear the tiara. It made the story more believable.”

“It sounds like a good storyline. I'm actually invested now, and I wonder how the two of you are gonna work me into the story.”

“Hazel will figure it out. She's a real creative kid. She has a big imagination,” Daryl replied, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your hip in a gentle caress. “She's amazin'.”

“Just like her daddy,” you responded, gazing up at your husband lovingly.

Daryl scoffed and ducked his head, but you didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. “Nah, she got it from her mama. She's a mini ya.”

“I don't think so, but okay,” you relented, dropping the tiara on the bed before wrapping your arms around his neck. “She's perfect.”

Daryl hummed. “Jus' like her mama,” he whispered before capturing your lips with his, kissing you sweetly and lovingly.

The kiss ended all too soon for your liking, but you remembered that you had a toddler waiting for you downstairs. “We should probably get her fed and ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, taking a step back. “Wha' surprise do ya have fer Hazel?”

“Cookies.”

“Who made them?”

“Carol. She dropped them off earlier before she went back to the Kingdom,” you explained, before leaning up to whisper something in his ear. “If we get Hazel to bed early enough, I'll show you what surprise I have for you.”

Daryl Dixon loves his daughter. She is his little girl and he would do anything for her, including dressing up as a princess for tea parties. He enjoys her company and wished to be in it 24/7. He'd kill anything that tried to hurt her and he'd die protecting her.

But at that moment, Daryl wanted to get her to bed and asleep as quickly as humanly possible. As much as he loved her, he had another idea of fun that involved only you, the love of his life, a bed, and no tea sets.

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

The Alchemy

AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.

Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

CW: Smut

Word Count: 6,871

Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.

It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.

Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.

Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.

Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows. 

Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."

I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye. 

"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script." 

Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."

As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.

"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."

Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."

I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."

She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."

Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.

"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.

As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.

Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me. 

I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength. 

I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore. 

Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.

Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head. 

For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer. 

That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.

As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.

"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."

I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.

But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."

Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.

The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.

Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.

"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response. 

"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt. 

Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement. 

"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"

His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased. 

I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt. 

Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.

"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality. 

"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class. 

My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.

I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.

I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H

I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.

I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.

I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.

After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.

I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.

His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.

The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.

I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.

Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.

As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.

By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.

Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.

I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous. 

"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy. 

Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked. 

I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me. 

"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously. 

Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.

I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly. 

Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.

Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me. 

I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field. 

As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.

At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return. 

In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.

As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.

"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.

"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.

"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.

Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game. 

I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights. 

"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly. 

I tilted my head. "Why's that?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."

Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions. 

"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly. 

Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...

But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise. 

Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out." 

He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.

As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.

A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.

As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.

Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."

I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."

He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.

"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."

I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."

Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."

We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.

I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.

Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.

The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.

Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. 

His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore. 

"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.

Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.

"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.

My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.

Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.

Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.

Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”

As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.

Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.

"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."

He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.

I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.

"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.

Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .

"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me. 

My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts. 

I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.

My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.

My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.

"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."

I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.

My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.

And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.

He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.

But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened. 

As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."

I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate. 

"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."

He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.

"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.

As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.

We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.

"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.

I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.

"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.

I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.

"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.

I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."

He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.

My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.

"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.

A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.

Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.

Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.

As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.

The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.

Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.

His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.

The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.

I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.

Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.

One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.

I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.

Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.

He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.

Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.

"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.

"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."

Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.

“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.

“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”

The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.

I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.

[waitingonher]

hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽

percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite

pairing: percy jackson x reader

content warning: coupley things

word count: 916

author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL

you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy. 

percy is such a green flag!! 

HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside. 

you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.

percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.

all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!! 

or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!

sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in. 

shopping dates with percy!! 

you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.

“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body.  your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.”  percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.”  you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.”  “but-”  “no percy.” 

HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears. 

he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.  

this guy has your gas station order down to a tee! 

percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-”  “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face.  with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.”   percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.” 

dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!! 

him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him. 

despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up. 

percy makes you flower bouquets!! 

they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets. 

and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds

one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights! 

you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience! 

even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO 

you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face.  percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband.  “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks.  “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband.  you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.” 

you two are actually a match made in heaven <333 

[hyuckkaiji]

my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader

summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 5.1k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis

note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪

The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.

But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.

He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.

And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.

Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.

Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.

His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.

According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.

Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.

He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.

Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.

He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.

So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.

You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.

As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.

Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.

Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.

Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.

How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-

"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.

"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.

"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.

You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.

"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.

It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.

Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.

Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.

"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.

"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.

"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.

You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?

He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.

Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."

"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.

"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.

He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."

"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.

"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.

He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.

He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."

His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.

"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.

"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.

"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.

When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."

"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.

You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.

What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .

In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.

His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.

This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.

He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."

Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.

He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.

"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."

For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.

"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."

"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.

In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.

He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.

He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.

He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.

"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.

"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.

You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."

"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.

"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.

"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.

"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.

"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.

"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.

His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.

"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.

Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.

"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.

"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.

You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.

He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.

Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.

"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.

Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.

You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.

You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."

He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."

[anotheruserwithnoname]

Ten years of Whouffaldi

My word, where did 10 years ago?

Ten years ago on Aug. 23, the episode Deep Breath launched the remarkable era of Peter Capaldi as the Twelfth Doctor (or true Thirteenth if you want to annoy some people).

And it was the true launch of one of the most interesting romances in sci-fi (friendly reminder that Peter, Jenna Coleman, Steven Moffat, writers and directors have all in some way or another confirmed that this wasn't fans watching with "ship-coloured glasses" - it was canonical. Regardless how some fans and even media have tried - as recently as a few days ago - to pretend it didn't exist.)

I do think it was not intended. It cannot be denied that a lot of people consider there to be an age-gap limit in romances, real-life and fictional, even when both parties are consenting adults. So when Peter replaced Matt - and no one can deny Clara had the hots for Eleven because she flat out says so, several times - they obviously planned on a return to the First Doctor-Susan dynamic with Capaldi (or maybe more accurately Third Doctor-Jo Grant, since Three low-key held a flame for Jo, since Twelve would still remember how he felt as Eleven, plus Three was "Capaldi's Doctor"). But due to the fact Peter and Jenna had such intense chemistry (to this day some fans remain convinced they had a real-life romance, which is not something I ever subscribed to), coupled with the decision to shoot the first episodes of the season in order of broadcast, you can see Moffat and his writers pivoting in real time as they adjusted to the fact that - with no disrespect to Samuel Anderson - Danny Pink was never going to be the next Rory Williams. This is most in evidence with Listen defining a future for Clara and Danny that was definitively retconned by Danny's death in Dark Water.

I know the Capaldi era was not everyone's cup of tea. Season 10 in particular did not age well for me, mainly because it was clearly "one season too many" for Moffat and Capaldi himself seemed to "check out" after a fashion when it became known that the next producer wasn't planning on keeping Twelve around. And if we're going to harp about falling ratings for the show in recent years, Peter never attained the same viewership levels as Matt or David. But for me, Seasons 8 and 9 were - a few off points notwithstanding - the best of the modern era and easily rank alongside the Pertwee years as some of the best this show ever had. (I stopped watching after Season 10 - but having spoken to people whose judgement I trust, I don't think anything that followed is likely to have rendered that statement outdated.)

But I appreciated the more mature approach to the show. Yes, I know DW always was at its core a children's show - though upgraded to family show over time. But having the Doctor and Clara having a mature conversation at the diner, the Doctor inviting a villain to have a drink with him (the closest the Doctor ever got to being James Bond), Clara freaking out about being called a control freak (not to mention her perfect "Nothing is more important than my egomania!"), the fact the episode confirmed that the Doctor did look upon Clara as his girlfriend when he was Eleven, and the fact the episode walks up to ageism and pops it in the nose with Clara being upbraided by Vastra for being ageist because of Twelve no longer being the young man Clara fell for ... all these add up to a remarkable episode and likely the strongest debut story for a Doctor since Spearhead from Space.

Deep Breath also marks the last time we saw the Paternoster Gang on screen. Having praised Moffat for Whouffaldi, now time to aim some criticism his way - he set up a perfect spinoff series (Neve McIntosh is one of my favourite actresses not named Jenna Coleman) and yet never followed through. Say what one might about RTD, we'd have gotten 4 series of Vastra, Jenny and Strax had he been in charge. Big FInish doesn't count though I'm sure Neve and Dan Starkey appreciated the fact they didn't need to put on the makeup all the time! LOL

So happy 10th anniversary to Whouffaldi!

[moochalove]

Bestest of Friends!(NSFW)

(pervert!Ayato x gullible!fem!reader)

Unfortunately I couldn’t form a single thought for part 3 of my Kazuha x Reader x Scara fic (i’m still cooking it up though so dw pookies☝️)

Iwhipped up this fic in a couple of hours…. I wanted to do more but it’s already so long!!

Anyways😋 ik i said gullible!reader but if you’re also perverted this can be seen as a reader who doesn’t stop his advances!

Not proofread!!

Word count: idk i should really check though! 🗣️

Being a friend of the Yashiro commissioner was something you hadn’t ever imagined. The Kamisato family was pristine, cunning, witty, and decisive. Their looks? You can’t even form the right words to describe them… Both of them are like porcelain dolls dressed in the finest silk clothing in all the land (although still below Her Excellency)

Sure, you were also pretty, but when you stand next to your good buddy Ayato, you just look like his helper… There have been times when you’ve been mistaken as his personal helper. Luckily Thoma was there to sort things out.

Ayato had approached you first. You had been smelling the flowers outside Komore tea house. The way you leaned over to smell the native bloom, with a delightful smile you pulled away from the flowers and accidentally bumped into the taller man’s chest.

Before you realized who it was you quickly apologized and tried running off. You did your best to avoid any social interaction, it always seemed like it caused more harm than good. (At least as the end result)

Something about you immediately grabbed Ayato’s attention, could it have been your silky/thick/bouncy/curly hair locks? The way your skin looked so soft (despite any texture it may have) oh, how he wished to caress it gently. He doesn’t even know your name and he’s already so far in love with you.

His purple-hued eyes watch your figure run further away, he should run after you but he’s still trying to process your enchanting body that has put him under a spell. It would be a shame if he were to let you go right now, sure, he can find you with the snap of his fingers, but he wants your official meeting to be something you’ll remember.

If only you knew that you had a practical prince running through the streets of Inazuma, knowing that would make drop to the ground out of shock, maybe even fear? Surely if someone so important were looking for you it’d mean you’ve done something wrong? The only thing Ayato would accuse you of being guilty of is being so pretty. (You guys have been in each other’s presence for about 45 seconds)

When he finally finds you you’re sitting on a bench, trembling and fidgeting with your hands. Perhaps you realized who he was and now you’re going through the motions of it all.

You immediately notice him and shoot up then offering up your seat. Oh how nice you were, your kindness knows no bounds, and surely goes the same for your love! Instead, he lets out a simple yet endearing laugh, “You offer me a seat despite it being rightfully yours, why so?” You’re fumbling with your outfit, avoiding eye contact, surely if you stay quiet he’ll leave you alone.

“Conversations usually involve two people, you know? Ah, perhaps it’s because of my status you’re hesitant to speak with me.”

Letting out a squeak you motion your hands in the hair before deciding to finally speak up. “I-I’m sorry. I just want sure if you were talking to me..”

Even the way he sits down is elegant and simple, “Who else would I be talking to? It seems you aren’t the most attentive person, hmmm I’ll make note of that..” He motions for you to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry I’m just not the most talkative person…” “Of course, anyone could notice that from a mile away.” he’s so blatant even he realizes he’s being insensitive by the way you curl in on yourself. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be so rude. Let’s start over, I am Kamisato Ayato, although, like many Inazumans, I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I am L/n, L/n Y/n, It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kamisato.” It would be an understatement to say you were nervous but you were nervous! What if you came off as rude or impolite? You’re not well-versed in all formalities.

His eyes never leave your e/c irises, the way his eyes devoured you should’ve set off a few alarms in your mind but they all seem to be mute.

“No need for the formalities, Y/n. I was actually hoping to converse with your normally, you know, like friends! I do hope you would be okay with becoming friends, hm?”

Every time someone had reached out to be your friend it always ended up with you crying alone. You’re not sure why people picked on you but you also couldn’t bear to fathom the idea of being alone forever. People are just misunderstood! If no one understands them then they’ll be all alone! That’s why you feel the need to accept anyone in your heart with open arms. No one should hurt like you have, so you just need to keep looking on the bright side of things! Eventually, it will get better, right?

Ayato isn’t dumb, he’s got a sharp-keen eye and he’s already picked up a few things about you! Isn’t that so romantic? He’s already making a list in his head about flowers that would surely embrace your sense of smell. Flowers that would adorn your h/c locks. Ah, that’s beside the point…The point is, you’re very gullible! And there’s nothing he loves more than an exploitable person. Especially one as cute/handsome as you!

The way he laces his voice with a subtle hint of yearning, the way he tilts his head innocently, even the way he quirks his eyebrow with a gentle smile plastered on his face… Were all calculated in his fucked up mind! Even if it’s all for show, he knows you’ve already made up your mind.

You’re quick to agree so, eyes sparkling with joy, admiration, and yearning. Compared to his cheap fraudulent smile; yours is genuine, an adoring yet pathetic smile.

He leans in for a hug but you back away, “Ah, my apologies. I hadn’t considered if you enjoyed physical contact. Please, forgive me.” Oh, he knew what he was doing. The way he feigned innocence in his voice made you feel guilty. At that time you weren’t too open to physical contact but had you considered how he was doing? Being in such a high position must be on another plane of stress. Before he fully pulled away from you, you leaned in and wrapped your arms under his. It was a little awkward at first for you but he seemed to melt into you and embrace you affectionately.

You guys would meet up every week at the Komore tea house, talking about your lives and discussing plans about things you wanted to do currently and in the future. Ayato would have never guessed someone like you would want to leave your homeland for another nation. The way you talked about the nation of wind so joyfully, or how you thought about wanting to potentially open your own shop in Liyue, maybe even embrace the life of a scholar once again in Sumeru, the idea of learning the arts which Fontaine had to offer didn’t sound too bad either, although the world is a dangerous place so why not train in Nathan for a couple of years, ah, but the idea of falling in love in the snow-filled capital of Snezhnaya also seem to captivate your blissfully troubled mind.

Ayato did not like those ideas one bit. He would rather drop dead or be publicly humiliated if it meant for you to stay by his side for eternity. The way you showed signs of maturity angered him just a little. He wanted you to stay “young” and innocent like a little toy doll he could control, yet here you were, getting help from professionals, forming healthy relationships and habits, you even had someone to call your lover, he can’t be bothered to remember their name right now but he knows for sure you deserve someone better (he’s referring to himself.)

His hugs have gotten tighter, and the way he wraps his toned arms around your waist doesn’t seem to drive a reaction out of you, or at least a voiced reaction.

He wants to go further.

The way his hand possessively tangles itself onto yours, interlocking his slim fingers to yours, comparing hand sizes, and the way he cups his face with your hand while placing a kiss onto the side of it does seem to get a reaction out of you. “Um… You good, Ayato?” “Of course my dear, ah, my apologies Y/n if I’ve offended you. I just assumed I was allowed to do this since we are friends.” He says all while smiling into your palm.

“Haha, of course, it just caught me off guard is all!” you’re no better, the way you cup his face with your other hand before rubbing his face like a dog. “Although, Dear, I would advise against you telling anyone about this. It’s something that stays between good friends, understand?” All too entranced by how soft and smooth his skin is you agree.

Over the span of a couple of weeks, the touches have gotten worse, he’s touching places that only lovers should touch. When he comes in for hugs he’s groping the plump of your ass and feeling up and down your hips. Or when he leans in from behind to hug you, he’s wrapping his arms around you possessively and gently nipping at your neck. At first, you seemed a little concerned but your good buddy Ayato reminds you that it’s what friends do! Just don’t go around doing it to your other friends because you can only do this with very special friends. (Such as himself)

It was all part of his plan to break and rebuild you the way he likes. Breaking you was all too easy, all it took was for him to truthfully admit how much he adores his sister and his butler/friend Thoma. You broke down into a sobbing mess admitting how you longed for a relationship like that, longing for someone to treat you nicely, that aching pain in your heart you wished would go away. And it did when he hugged you and whispered positive affirmations into your ear, when he wiped your tears and snot away with his silk robes that definitely cost more than you, it relit your shrunken burnt out heart, it was now burning brightly again, with nothing but admiration for the prince who swept you off your feet and brought you to safety. Or at least that’s how you saw it.

Rebuilding you was currently in the works, he needed you to be whipped and ready to accept whatever passed through his throat as the truth and nothing more. Even if you’ve matured a little that doesn’t mean he can break through your now rough and tough exterior, the inside still raw and soft; gullible. The thought that you might shun him and realize his toxic behavior was more stress-inducing than all his work combined. He didn’t want you to throw him away! Only he was allowed to do that. If you were to get boring he could throw you away and leave you broken just as he found you, and he would be okay with it. But he loved you too much to even dwell on the thought even more than he has.

It was supposed to be a fun dinner party with everyone, and you’re lover too, but when he saw you adorning an apron with some excessive whipped cream your lover had booped on your face he couldn’t control himself. His mind plagued him with perverted thoughts, immediately he stated that you both had some things to catch up on and that the others should set the kotatsu with the proper cutlery.

As per usual, he greets you with a hug. The only difference is that it’s from behind and he’s trying his best to be the romantic man he is at heart and is currently helping you whip the thick cream that would complement the cake you had prepared. His hand is much stronger than yours, making it easy to stir and flip the cream, his other hand is mounted on yours against the side of the bowl. Nothing is said…

You can feel something hard poking into your rear but you ignore it, maybe it was his belt.

Ayato’s breathing is starting to labor, he’s bucking his hips ever so slightly against you. You turn around to say something but he simply leans in to kiss you. His hands have long abandoned stirring, instead holding your wrists with a single hand while the other fondles/caresses your chest. He’s guiding you to the island in the center of the kitchen before he’s bending you over. Bulge rubbing between your clothed sex was an amazing experience, the bundle of nerves was being stimulated pleasantly, and your hole was squeezing tightly against nothing. Based on the wet spot forming on your bottoms he can tell you’re bound to come undone soon. Hands wrapped around your throat with slight pressure applied has you turned on even more, everything feels hot and heavy down there, and you can hear a subtle slick noise coming from below, ah how embarrassing! You’re even more pathetic when he abruptly stops, whimpering and grinding your ass against him, trying to create even more friction, “W-why’d you stop?” His grip tightens before he whispers in your ear, “They’re near, let’s pretend to have a nice normal conversation, after all, it’s been a while since we’ve last caught up, hm?” he releases his grip from your throat, hands moving around your hips before he’s rutting against your sex again at a faster speed.

“So, Y/n, how has life been treating you? I hear you’ve made some new friends!” the longer you don’t respond he’s gripping bruises into your hips, “A-ah- I’ve been well! It’s true I’ve been- oh my- I’ve been making new friends! I wish I could’ve invited them today but-“you're covering your mouth with your hands, eyes rolling up from the pleasure as the fat on your chest bounces with every thrust. “B-but I know how jealous you get when I’m not paying- paying attention to you! Haahh.. So maybe next time y-yeah?” the ‘yeah’ was a little high-pitched but nobody would really notice unless they were right there at the door. “Oh yes, you know how possessive I can be,” emphasizing the word he can tell you’re about ready to reach your peak, his pants have long since dropped and his thick length is poking through his boxers, rubbing up against your wet folds and clit he can feel through those annoying pants of yours. He wished to rip them off then and there but he surely didn’t want to embarrass you by having you walk the walk of shame to the bathroom with ripped pants and a dripping wet cunt in front of everyone.

So he opted to give you your present early, it would have been so satisfying to gift you a beautiful silk kimono (in your favorite color) in front of your lover. Oh, how he wanted you to embrace him tightly in front of everyone exclaiming ‘thank you’ over and over again, something that he would definitely savor for his private time.

“I actually got you something, Dear!“ You’re not sure how he was able to easily flip you over and have your back pressed against the island but you’re too busy taking shallow breaths to even say anything. Stretching his limbs over you to reach for a plain-looking box, he pulls said kimono out and unfolds it from its once neatly folded state. “Isn’t it beautiful? I had it tailored to your body so it should fit like a glove. I won’t stress you the details but it’s worth a lot so please, cherish it.” once he finishes speaking his tip is rubbing circles into your hot clit, he’s smacking it with his fat pink tip, chasing his own high while he fists the thick base of his cock. Your high hits you hard and you squeal ‘thank you’ over and over again with the occasional ‘it’s so so pretty’ and ‘I’ll cherish it forever’ You’re loud enough for everyone to hear and that thought alone has him cumming onto your clothed cunt. Since he’s feeling so happy about it all he hasn’t stopped rubbing against you, which causes you to be overstimulated and for him to rip another orgasm from you. “C-cumming-“ is all he can muster up as he leans into you. His cock spasms as he pumps it, his cum spills onto your wet overstimulated cunt.

It takes him a moment to regain his composure as he slowly pulls away and clean himself up. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes but he’s kissing them away whispering, “Let’s get you changed, you’re going to look stunning for them all.” All you can do is hum okay in response as he starts to undress you. Pulling something else out of the box it’s a beautiful lingerie set, in fact, the one you’ve been thinking about buying for a while now… Not dwelling too much on the thought you kiss the mole beneath his soft lips in reciprocation. Ayato isn’t too vocal but when you kiss him there he can’t help but whine as he leans back into you, “Dear, I wouldn’t recommend doing that, or at least not until we’re in my quarters~” you stifle a giggle, “Okay, okay, just help me get dressed!”

When you slide the door open everyone is shocked and amazed at how stunning you look. You no longer look like a personal helper! Maybe not an equivalent to the siblings yet, but you’re getting there! Your lover is quite enthralled with your look but is also as bitter because they were planning on buying you that. Ayato notices their expression and huffs his chest pridefully.

The dinner goes well and everyone is happily content with all the food and desserts! Occasionally Ayato will glance at you or place his hand on your thigh but nobody knows.

After all, it’s what friends do! Right?

[luellasplanet]

18. (georgia stanway)

word count: 1.3k

this is a stanners fanpage now btw xx

based on anabor’s song ‘18’

in which matching tattoos end a friendship but spark a relationship

You had met Georgia at the mere age of twelve, been best friends since thirteen, and had done everything together since fourteen. “Troublemakers since the beginning” as your mum would say.

You two stole a bottle of her mums wine, at fourteen, and finished the bottle in a random feild. Stole your older sisters makeup and gave eachother makeovers infront of your bathroom mirror at fourteen and a half. Hijacked their fishing boat for a midnight boat ride, at fifteen, when on holiday with the stanway family, Gave each other food poisoning at fifteen and a half after a not so great reenactment of ‘The Great British Bake-off.’

And at sixteen the two of you made the stupid decision to get matching tattoos, forging your parent’s signatures and stealing some money out their wallets, the two of you headed off into Manchester.

You had gotten a tattoo on your collarbone while Georgia opted to get one on her rib, both of the tattoos could be easily hidden from the view of your parents.

Both of your tattoos read ‘troublemaker,’ written in each others handwriting.

i know it’s just a phase

you’re not in love with me

The two of you had managed to keep your tattoos hidden from everyone, you often spent nights in eachother rooms while Georgia left hickeys scattered in a trail, starting on your neck and making its way down until they were littered around your tattoo.

It was merely fun for the both of you, no feelings, purely just friendship with a little bit of kissing here and there.

As you started to fall asleep your fingers delicately traced her tattoo, while your legs were entangled together. No words were exchanged as your touch sent shivers up her spine. Your shirt was lifted slightly which allowed for the side of your stomach to be pressed agasint hers, the skin grazing against skin made your heart beat slightly faster than normal.

Regardless of how many boyfriends or girlfriends the two of you had, somehow you always found yourself in this position, time and time again.

so if you wanna piss off your parents

One night while Georgia was away on a football camp she calls you extremely panicked, at around one in the morning, “what’s wrong stanners?” You question as you rub your eyes trying to adjust to the very little lighting the stars and moon offered.

“My parents saw my tattoo! Well erm they didn’t actually see it. Lessi saw it, and then just asked me about it as my parents came round the corner. And they heard and fuck y/n, they’re so pissed.” She quietly told you, although you were surprised that the brunette had managed to keep her voice quiet for more than ten seconds, you couldn’t focus on that. “Shit, they’re gonna hate me,” you mutter. “What did you tell them?”

Your voice came out in shaky tones as you tried to control your racing. Millions of thoughts flew into your head at once.

What if you weren’t allowed to see Georgia again? What if her mum hated you? Or her dad, or her brothers? Would she ever invite you round for tea again? Would her mum tell yours? Were you never going to be allowed to see your bestfriend again, just because of a stupid tattoo?

“Y/n? You there?” The voice of the brunette on the other end of the line broke you out of your train of thought. “Mhm, yeah you were saying?”

She paused before answering, “erm, well I told them that we had matching tattoos and now they’re just a little mad… but it’s fine they’ll get over it. I hope.”

Your worst fears were coming true, Georgia’s parents definitely despised you. They’re sweet innocent child had been influenced by you to get matching tattoos.

When your parents found out about the tattoo, they banned you from seeing Georgia again. Claiming that they’re daughter could not be seen walking around with ink splotches engraved on her body.

You had to wait to see her at school on Mondays, but after awhile her appearances at school became less and less frequent, until she barely ever showed up to school as she was too busy with football.

You watched her footballing journey from the sidelines, instead of being there to support her.

There was a little piece of you that would always resent your parents for overreacting about the tattoo to this extent.

Of course, ignoring your parents wishes you got more tattoos. On your ankle, neck, wrist, spine and behind your ear. But you kept them all hidden away from your parents sight with the best of your abilities.

if long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby then you’re in luck

Your hair was carelessly placed in a messy low pony tail, showing off the tattoo on the back of your ear and neck, while your denim shorts and cropped shirt showed off the tattoos on your collarbone, spine and wrist.

You were watching Georgia’s game, along with some of your classmates. Lotte, who you’d had the many encounters with in the past pointed you out to Georgia as they warmed up. You offered the girls watching you a smile and a little wave as they focused back on the task at hand.

When the long game that had eventually gone into penalties was over, Georgia finds comfort in your arms, as your chin rests on her head until she was finally ready to let go, “come back to mine please, my parents aren’t here for the weekend and my brothers won’t care?” She asks looking up at you, although her arms never left their tight grip on your waist. “You look really pretty today by the way, I like the new tattoos.”

You laughed at her before telling her that, “flattery will get you no where my girl, but yes I’ll come over. I’ll just tell my parents I’m staying and Emilia’s house.”

date me to scare them

The two of you were sprawled out on her bed, after eating random leftovers you had found in the Stanway fridge you decided to watch a movie underneath the comfort of her duvet cover.

What was watching a movie turned into you reading a book, holding it with your one hand, while you mindlessly twirled Georgia’s hair in your other hand.

Holding the book and turning its pages with one hand was extremely difficult but you didn’t mind as you could feel Georgia’s breathe fanning against your neck as she read the book over your shoulder.

The peace was disturbed as she softly spoke, careful not to startle you due to the close proximity. “Be my girlfriend y/n, I can’t go on acting like not being able to see you is not affecting me. I’ll treat you better than anyone else I promise.”

You smile at her little speech before turning to face her, “but what about our parents? They’ll absolutely kill us if they find out I’m at your house right now, let alone the fact that we’re dating!”

Completely ignoring the first part of your sentence, georgias attention was focused on the last part. “So we are dating then! Perfect it’s settled, no further comments are allowed!”

Her random energetic behaviour was not unusual in the slightest but her smile literally could light up a whole room as she happily snuggled into your side, placing a kiss against your collarbone (where your tattoo was) before she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[g1rld1ary]

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

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

opening doors - lockwood x reader

wc: 1980

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He's not seeing anyone right now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I need to see Lockwood, please."

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I see him, please?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Safely alone, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

[detectivestucks]

A Jealous Hokage IV

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader x Obito

Summary: Obito regrets his actions as you decide what to do moving forward. Kakashi invites you to an event and things get steamy as you decide what you’re going to wear.

Warnings: NSFW, Slight Degradation, Spanking, Fingering, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 3.4k

Part 3

New here? Check out Part 1

You sit there, staring at the gift. Your mind that had gone blank, paralyzed by indecision, was now swirling with inner dialogue. What is wrong with me? Kakashi is amazing. We’ve been dating for the better part of a year. Why would I throw that away? But Obito, how do I describe it? You always know where you stand with him. He doesn’t hide his affection. The way he looks at me. The way he made me feel under his genjutsu…but that’s exactly why I can’t trust him. The entire thing could’ve been lies just to get me in bed. This is all a game to him. It’s not a game to Kakashi. He loves me. He’s the healthy choice, even if it is in secret. I might have feelings for Obito but I love Kakashi and I'm not gonna give that up. 

You make this decision with a firm nod of your head. Now that you are certain of what you’re going to do, you reach out and finally unwrap the small box that had been sitting patiently on your table for the past two hours. 

It is a beautiful necklace and earring set. A long strand of glittery stones with a bright pendant, it was exceedingly fancy and you wonder when you would ever wear such jewelry. Sure you love dressing up for work but within reason. This looked like something you’d wear to dinner with the Feudal Lord. It must’ve been very expensive. Why would Kakashi spend this kind of money on me?

The next morning you head into work trying your hardest to pretend last night never happened. It was genjutsu, it was genjutsu, it was genjutsu. None of it was real. It was genjutsu. No matter how many times you told yourself this, you were still saddled with guilt cause you know that in the heat of the moment you liked it. Curse Obito for doing this to you. You were happy and in love before he came along. Why did he have to come ruin everything?

You drop your stuff off in your office and head to the break room to grab hot water to make some tea. Upon entering the room you see Obito. Your face instantly shades red from both shame and anger and you storm away avoiding him. Obito for once regrets his advances towards you. He knows he crossed a line last night. Desperation got the best of him. He shouldn’t have used his abilities like that. 

Mortified, you decide to hide out in your office. You hear a soft knock on the door. It was Obito holding a cup of tea. “Go away Obito” 

Completely disregarding your wishes he enters anyway and puts the tea down on your desk. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I was out of line last night.” You sheepishly take the tea off the desk. “I think that might be the first time you’ve ever called me by my name.” you give a small smile. “Thank you Obito. For the tea and for the apology.” You blow on the tea before taking a sip. 

“I’ve let my feelings for you consume my actions. I've been focusing on what I want and I took it too far.” He steps forward and grabs your hand, kissing the back of it. “Forgive me Princess.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Never” he says with a smile as he walks out of your office.

You would be lying if you said that the small gesture didn’t make you feel warm. You liked how special he made you feel but last night is as far as things will ever go. You stand firm on that decision.

Not even ten minutes go by before Kakashi enters your office without knocking and leans against your desk. You beam up at him. “Good Morning Kashi!”

“Good Morning Angel” He leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Did you like your gift?”

Recalling the jewelry he had delivered to your home, you exclaim, “It was beautiful! However I couldn’t help but wonder, what was the occasion?”

“I’m so glad you phrased it like that.” He smiled, “The Feudal Lord came to my office yesterday afternoon. He wants us to host a Gala to fundraise for the Academy. Since these times of peace have brought in fewer paid missions, we need more money to keep the program going. He also wants to invite representatives from the other great nations to continue to build international relationships. I thought you could wear it when you go.”

“I’m invited?”

“All members of the shinobi forces are invited, including the personnel at headquarters.”

“Wow, sounds fancy. I feel so important.”

“You are important.” He says with a brush of your cheek. 

At that moment you hear your office mate shuffling in through the door. Kakashi immediately stands up. 

“I’ll have the latest update on that translation on your desk by lunch.”

Kakashi nods while playing along. “I appreciate it. I can always count on you.” He begins to leave your office. 

“Good Morning Lord Sixth.”

“Good Morning Shiho. Just a heads up, you should be expecting an invitation from my office later today.” 

“Oh, okay, thank you!” she called to him as he disappeared out your office door. 

“What is the invite about?”

“It’s some fundraiser Gala. We’re all invited.”

“Oh that sounds fun! You gonna bring a date?”

“Psh, yeah right.”

“What about the mystery man?”

“He is a mystery for a reason and he is going to stay a mystery.” You say with a pointed look.

Shiho rolls her eyes and drops it, deciding to get started on the day’s work. 

**************************************************

You come home from work thinking about the Gala. What on earth am I going to wear? I don’t have anything that fancy! You begin to rifle through your closet looking for a dress that matches Kakashi’s earrings. There is a knock on the door. You turn around, leaving your closet and walk towards the kitchen. You open up your door to find Kakashi standing there with flowers for you. Beaming at him, you hurry him inside before anyone could see.

“That was a big risk you took coming here with flowers like this. Someone could've seen you.”

“Don’t worry Angel, I was careful.”

He gives you the bouquet and you smell them. “They’re lovely, thank you.”

“Not as lovely as you.”  he says, eyes sparkling as he looks at you with complete adoration. You feel butterflies rise in your stomach yet again. He always has that effect on you. You turn to put them in water and make two cups of tea. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“That’s okay, Kash. I have plenty of work to occupy my time.”

“And I’m sorry that you can’t be my official date to the Gala.” The way he says this tells you that he is genuinely bothered by it.

“I don’t need all of that. I’m just happy being with you, even if it’s private.” you say, placing a hand on his forearm.

Kakashi pulls down his mask while he leans in for a kiss. You wrap both of your arms around him pressing your lips into his. When your mouths disconnect, he asks softly, “Have you thought about what you’re going to wear?”

“Actually I was just trying to figure that out. I think I may need to go shopping.”

“Well I’ve been thinking about what you should wear, a lot.” He whispers in your ear. You feel the familiar tingle of excitement trickle along your spine.

“Do tell” you whisper back

“Well I was thinking something red and revealing. Maybe something low cut showing off your lovely tits, teasing the entire room” he says gripping your waist tightly. “The fabric sheer so I can see your thong through it from across the dining hall.” He kisses your cheek. “Perhaps a slit up to your hip so that I have easy access when I corner you in the closet.” He kisses your neck. “Every man in the room will want you but only I will get to fuck you.” he whispers into your neck.

You hum in amusement. “Well if you want me to wear something low cut, you’ll need to stop giving me so many hickies.” 

You hear the hesitation as he debates whether or not to resist the urge to bite down on you. He settled for kissing along the entire curve of your neck and shoulder, willing to allow your pre-existing marks heal before the Gala. He kisses all around your collarbone before licking his tongue up your neck.

You close your eyes and exhale feeling the arousal begin to pool in your underwear. He presses his lips into yours before nibbling on your lower lip, pulling till it slips out from between his teeth. You sharply inhale feeling lust wash over you. Your fingers dig into his back as you pull him towards you. 

He pushes you onto the table pulling off your tank top to kiss all over your chest. Your head drops back as he kisses you, careful not to leave a single mark. It isn’t as fun as his love bites but it still makes you soak the lace between your legs. While he kisses you he undoes the snap of your bra, causing it to fall in your lap. You push his face into your chest letting him lick your cleavage before suckling on your tits, taking care of each one. Since he couldn’t mark up your skin he decided to be extra cruel to your nipples biting down on them with ferocity. “AH!!” you call out. Chills roll over your body covering your skin as his nibbling makes your empty pussy crave something to clamp down around. 

He lets go of your tit with a satisfied smile, devilishly staring up at you. You pull off his shirt and undo his pants, kissing his entire front. Every muscle, every scar, every facet that you could get your greedy mouth on, you wanted to taste it all. He stroked himself as he watched you. Once again thinking about how he could fuck you for the rest of his life. You nibbled on his collarbone before he raised your face up to his. 

“Open”

You open your mouth. He spits into it. 

“Swallow” 

You swallow his spit. A wicked smile curls his lips. He loves how you play along with anything he throws at you. “That’s a good Angel”

He spins you around so you’re bent over the table and yanks your pants down past your hips. He spanks you a few times just to watch you squirm before sliding his fingers into your slit. You moan as he works your gummy walls. His other hand reaches to cover your mouth and arch your back up towards him. With his hand jutting in and out of your tightening pussy, he leans down and whispers in your ear, “Do you like that my little slut? You like when I finger your hole?”

“Mhm” you say, muffled by his hand. He adjusts his hand and slips two fingers into your mouth fish hooking you while he quickens the pace in your cunt adding a third finger inside. 

“Aa-aaa-aaa-hhh!” you moan, unable to truly speak with your stretched out lips. You began to kick your legs trapped together by your pants pulled halfway down. He pulls his fingers out of your heat and replaces them with his dick already dipping with precum. You let out a satisfied groan as he stretches you, filling you up completely, pushing inside you all the way to the hilt. 

He shoves his slick covered fingers in your mouth, feeding you your own cum before hooking them in your mouth like his other hand, using your lips to grip you while slamming rhythmically into your plush behind. Your fingers clutch the edge of the table trying to steady yourself as you curse and scream in pleasure. 

Wanting to pick up speed, Kakashi grabs you by the elbows pulling your arms behind your back as he unleashes the pent up sexual desire that had been building in him from imagining you in your sexy red dress.

“Oo-ohh, ye-esss, babb-byyy” you say broken up by each stroke that slams into your cervix. 

Wanting more, he switches his grip to your throat, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes are rolling backwards with pleasure. You start to gasp for air as you feel yourself toppling over the edge leaving cream all over Kakashi’s cock. 

He adjusts his grip again, putting one hand on your neck and a pinky in your rear. Normally he’d save this for a punishment but he couldn’t resist. You were squirming so much already and he wanted to see your squirm more. A guttural groan fell out of your mouth as he slid in, making his stomach coil. 

You start to go limp after your orgasm so Kakashi flips you on your back, lifting your restrained legs over one shoulder, pulling you to the edge of your kitchen table. Your fingers once more curling around the edge for support. You gaze up at him with a look of satisfied exhaustion, smiling as he plows into you. He hugs your knees as he slows down. Stroking slow and even. You whine and wiggle around wanting him to go fast again. He centers your legs, knees stuck together, on his chest, letting your ankles fall open on either side of his head. 

He leans down, pressing your legs into your chest going in deep. He keeps a medium pace as he sticks a finger back in your mouth. You obediently suck on it hoping you’ll be rewarded with more speed. He sticks a second finger in. You accept it gladly. He starts to smile and adds a third finger. You willingly take it into your mouth sucking as drool starts to dribble out the corner of your lips. He adds a fourth finger stroking them in and out of your mouth. 

“You’re a greedy little slut tonight, aren’t you?”

“Mhm” you say with doe eyes. He smiles ready to give you your reward. He takes his hand out of your mouth and grabs your tit as he picks up the pace slamming into you over and over again. Your back arched off the table in ecstasy. His balls tightened as he watched your eyes roll back before squeezing shut. “That’s it Angel, let it out.”

You scream as your legs shake. Your back begins to convulse as he continues to split you in two during your orgasm. 

Kakashi’s toes curl as he’s close to cumming. At the last minute he pulls out and sprays his sticky ropes all over your chest. Still panting and catching your breath, you take a finger and wipe up some of his cum and bring it to your mouth. “Mmmm” you hum. Smiling at him as you lick.

He pulls you up by the back of your head to kiss you, even though he was still catching his own breath, he can’t help himself. He loves you and can’t think of a better way to show you. You know exactly what to do to drive him wild. He can’t get enough of your swollen lips. He inhales deep before releasing your mouth with several small kisses. Smiling at you, heart full. He goes to grab you a damp cloth to clean up your chest when he musters up the courage to ask:

“Would it be all that bad if I were your date to the Gala, officially speaking?”

“Huh?”

“If people were to know about us. Would it be so bad?”

“Kashi, we’ve been over this. I don’t want people to think I’m sleeping my way to the top, especially now that you’re Hokage.”

“Everyone knows how bright you are. No one would assume any merits you earn are because of me.”

“That’s all everyone will think. I wouldn’t be able to stand the scrutiny.”

“If anyone causes you trouble then they will have me to deal with.”

“And have you make it worse? I don’t think so.”

At that moment Obito came to your house. He was hoping to steal another moment with you but he heard Kakashi’s voice so he stayed outside, listening in on your conversation.

“So am I just going to be your secret forever?”

“No, just till you step down as Hokage.”

“Till I step down? That will be years. I don’t think I can hide you for that long.”

You cast your eyes down realizing how big a commitment that was to ask of him.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you in secret too? Be your secret husband? Cause I’m not waiting till I’m out of office to ask for your hand.”

Your eyes shot up wide. “You, you’ve thought about marrying me?”

Still outside eavesdropping, Obito felt he had been punched in the gut.

“Is that surprising to you?”

“I guess I hadn’t stopped to think about it.” Your stomach was doing flips realizing how serious Kakashi was about you. 

“You see my face every day. The last person to see my face was my father. What does that tell you?” he says playing with your hair.

“Kakashi…”

“You have my trust completely. I am yours forever.” He says, closing his hands around yours.

“I…I want all that with you. I do, but I’m not ready. I don’t know if I can handle what people will think and say. I’m sorry Kashi.”

Kakashi is having a hard time hearing your words. He starts to wonder if it has to do with Obito. He pulls up his mask and gets dressed. 

“Please don’t leave Kashi, please” you say, feeling panicked. Getting up off the table, tugging at his arm. You pull him into you, forcing him to hug you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Kash. I wish I could change the way I feel, I do, but I’m not ready.” tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry too. I need some time to think.” He pushes you away heading towards the door. 

“Kashi, Please!” Desperation thick in your voice. 

He turns around, pain painted all over his features. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch men look at you thinking you’re single? What it’s like to hear how they talk about you knowing they believe you’re available for the taking? What it’s like to be in the same room as you but pretend you are nothing more than a colleague? It was fun in the beginning but I can’t do this forever.”

“You don’t think I go through the same thing? Every girl wants you. But you have nothing to lose, where I will lose the respect of all my peers. No one will take me seriously. Everything that I’ve worked for will be lost.”

“I will take you seriously. Me, the Hokage. Can’t that be enough?”

You swallow hard as you look down in thought. Kakashi kisses your forehead and whispers, “Come to me when you figure it out.” and with that he left. 

You stood there crying in your living room, staring at the door through which he left. You felt like he was asking you to choose between him and your career. It's not as simple as he makes it seem.

After a few moments you find it in yourself to move from where your feet were planted and begin putting your clothes back on, tears still streaming down your face.

Obito finally decided to make his presence known. He walked through your front door without knocking, “Now’s not the time, Obito.” you sniffle

He comes in and immediately hugs you, holding you in his warm embrace. “It’ll be okay Princess”

“You’re just saying that cause you hope it’s over between us.” you mutter into his chest beginning to cry even harder.

“No, Princess, I wouldn’t hope for anything that hurts you.” he whispers, moving you over to the couch to sit together. You look up at his face and believe him. That look in his eyes where the universe has shifted to revolve around you is front and center. He stays with you, holding you as you lay on his chest. “What can I do to help, Princess?”

“Be the Hokage” you say sarcastically with a hint of seriousness 

He lets out a small chuckle, “That used to be my dream, you know.”

“What changed?” you say with a sniffle

“I did some things that I can’t take back.”

Unsure of what to say, you choose to nestle into Obito in response. He had never been so vulnerable with you before.

Tightening his embrace he says to you,“You wouldn’t have to go through any of this if you were with me. It would be easy, the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Give it a rest Obito.”

He kisses your temple and continues to hold you, deciding to drop the topic. He stays with you till you cry yourself to sleep. He carries you to your bed and kisses your salty tear-stained cheek before leaving. His heart ached from how much he was beginning to love you. He was all but certain you would never leave Kakashi. It pained him to know you wouldn’t have to endure any of your fears if you would just choose him. Why wouldn’t you just choose him? He looked back at you longingly, over his shoulder, before shutting the door behind him.

Part 5 Masterlist

[midnghtprentiss]

family - spencer reid

summary: four times spencer and his daughter made you feel like family and one time you were family.

singledad!spencer x reader

a/n: no use of y/n, no body descriptions, a couple os swear words, pregnancy. english >is not< my first language. enjoy!

materlist

One.

Spencer became a dad at a really young age. He was twenty one when his daughter, Estelle, was born. Her biological mom left and since this day he was a single father and the best he could ever be. When he entered the BAU, she was three and he wasn’t alone anymore. Everyone helped him besides he insisted it was fine. Penelope was the first one to put Este under her wings and took her everywhere. During the trips he trusted his baby’s life with the blonde woman and every time was the best decision.

Things changed when they welcomed you to the team. Emily and you were greeted at the same time but you caught his eye. Not because you have the same age but how his daughter was obsessed with you. She couldn’t hear your voice and see your face that it was over to everybody. You used to joke that if she went missing it was her fault. A few times Spencer forgot that she was not your real kid and his mind played tricks on him. 

‘’Reid, I’m taking your daughter home with me. You’re never seeing her again, just like Tangled.’’ You blew him a kiss and the sound of Estelle’s laugh made everyone smile. ‘’I am the funniest person you know, hm? But I’m serious, if you need some time to sleep, read or do whatever I can watch her. The girls are coming over tonight and we love to have Ellie around.’’ 

‘Ellie’’ was the nickname you gave her. The only one that called her like that. He loved how you created such a beautiful bond and he can count on you all the time, even when he doesn’t have to say a word in moments like this. Like a family. 

‘’It’s alright, I need to take her bag in the car but you can take her. Thank you, I really need to sleep.’’ He smiles at your direction, taking his kid again. 

‘’We are leaving at five, when she’s ready you know where to find me.’’ You come closer to him, holding the little girl's hand. ‘’Are you ready to your first girls night, Ellie?’’

A not normal but really close family and he was so grateful for the love they were receiving from everybody, especially you.

Two.

Estelle was growing really fast with the most normal childhood Spencer guaranteed. He made sure she had friends, a nice school, a normal house with a princess room. All the things he didn’t have, he guaranteed she had. She understands sometimes daddy was away for work but auntie Penny was taking good care of her and making a lot of tea parties with her dolls. 

She was ten at the time and still obsessed with you. You were her role model of a woman. Smart, pretty, funny and knew her favorite books by heart. She almost considered you as a mother though it was a secret she kept in her heart. Spencer was enamored by how you two treated each other with love and respect.

The team just got back from a case when Spencer heard Estelle’s giggles from something Penelope said and smiled. He stayed away for ten days but it feels like an eternity, he missed waking up with her shaking him and asking for pancakes, he missed her reading her books for him and definitely missed her rambling nonstop over things she learned at school, saw during the day and the scenarios her pretty head was creating. God, he was such a sucker for his baby. 

‘’Daddy!’’ All he saw was a cute girl running with a pink fluffy skirt, a purple shirt under a jeans jacket and rainy unicorn boots. 

‘’My baby! How are you? I missed you so much. I brought you a gift.’’ He took her in his arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

‘’A snowglobe?’’ He nods laughing at her reaction. ‘’I miss you daddy. I have so many things to tell you I wrote all in my diary so I won’t forget.’’ She was proud of her actions and so was Spencer. 

It took her a few seconds to finally snap and look around for you. The desperation of not finding you was real for a moment, until she saw you at your desk. The brightest smile appeared on her face when you waved and she runned into your direction. 

‘’I finally found you! I miss you, ya know? I asked aunty Penny to help me get you a gift for your birthday and I can’t wait until next week, so here it is.’’ She grabs the little sparkling bag with Penelope and gives it to you. 

When you opened the bag there was a picture of you two together at her birthday party from last year. She was smiling while you laughed at something you don’t remember now. Your smile got bigger and you just hugged her. 

‘’I love it so much! I’ll put it in my desk so I always remember you.’’ The girl shakes her head ‘helping you put the picture with the most proud feeling ever. 

Spencer was watching everything from his desk. A warm feeling radiating from his heart, a cozy and sweet feeling of things right. 

‘’You should ask her out, pretty boy. This whole pinning thing is driving me insane and I’ll proudly watch her for you.’’ Derek teased him. 

‘’Yeah, give me a second.’’ The man walked towards you wearing a smirk you knew really well.

‘’Pick me up tomorrow at seven, pretty boy.’’ He doesn’t say a word but his heart has a lot to say. 

Three.

You and Spencer were dating for almost a year, things happened naturally and lightly. Estelle was happier that her two favorite people were dating, every sleepover was a party and both of you couldn’t be more satisfied. 

It was the first time in months that the BAU got a case in Virginia, which was good but bad cause it was closer to home. You and Emily spare for a couple of seconds to get into the precinct when you heard the shot but your first instinct was to look at what was burning. There was a lot of blood coming from your stomach. You look around to notice Emily holding you, noticing the commotion around the building. 

‘’Honey, keep your eyes open. Look at me.’’ Emily was trying to not let you close your eyes. ‘’Tell me a secret, anything, but don’t close your eyes.’’ 

‘’You know Spencer invited me to live with him and I sent him straight to hell.’’ You sight heavily. ‘’I want to say yes, I need to.’’ 

‘’You will, trust me. I’ll make sure you do.’’ You could hear his voice in the back, screaming something unintelligible for your conscience. ‘’Keep you eyes open, for God's sake!’’ 

Everything went blank for a while. You only remember waking up in a hospital bed. Penelope was sleeping next to Spencer on the couch. Your head was dizzy and your body hurt a lot. You took a deep breath before Spencer jumped next to you. 

‘’Hey you.’’ You spoke softly, holding his hand. 

‘’How are you feeling?’’ He strokes your cheek gently. 

‘’Sleepy and dizzy. How long?’’ He analyzed your microexpressions before answering. ‘’Stop profiling me, Spencer.’’ 

‘’Three days. You were shot in the stomach, lost a lot of blood and went to surgery. You’re awake now and definitely moving with me.’’ He jokes and you smile. 

‘’You’re awake! Finally! I love you so much. I’ll let them know.’’ Penelope seemed so happy when she left, leaving you two alone. 

‘’Spencer, if you want to propose right now I will dump you right now. I swear!’’ 

‘’I won’t! I wasn’t even thinking about it until you mentioned.’’ He said leaning over to give you a soft kiss. ‘’You don’t need a ring to be part of my dysfunctional family. By the way, Estelle is really excited for you to move with us, she was helping me with your office.’’ 

‘’I get an office?’’ You raised your brows and laughed. 

‘’If you want to work in her room full of glitter and toys that’s your call.’’

‘’I wouldn’t mind at all.’’

His damn heart missed a beat when you held his hand and closed your eyes again before going back to sleep. 

Four.

Spencer was nervous, he was terrified actually. It took him six months to propose to you in the way he wanted and it didn’t work. His plan was to take you to the vineyard you wanted to go to for months but the day he made reservations it rained so much there was no way you could go. You stayed home instead. Watching some movies with Estelle, eating popcorn and laughing at stupid things. Steve was a genius but everytime he was close to you he turned into the dumbest person alive. 

Estelle knew he was about to propose because she helped him find the ring and she gave so many ideas. Indeed she suggested he should do it when she wasn’t expecting, and he did. He put the ring out of his cardigan pocket and watched your reaction. You barely missed it focusing on Harry Potter but when you look twice there was it. The fucking ring. 

‘’Spencer what the fuck!’’ You covered your mouth with watery eyes. 

‘’Marry me.’’ His heart was so fast he swore he was close to having a heart attack. ‘’You are part of my life, part of this family and I don’t think I can live without you in my days. I love you. I open my heart for you in the same way you opened your for us. You accept me. love me. I can’t promise you white picket fences but I can promise you this, moments like this. I give you my sunshine, my best but the rain it’s always gonna come if you stand with me. People think love’s for show but I will die for you in secret. Marry me, so you can be forever mine and I can be forever yours.’’

‘’Yes. I do. Oh my God!’’ The tears streaming down your face made him giggles watching you trying to stay calm. ‘’I love you. A lot.’’ 

‘’Did she say yes?’’ You two heard Ellie’s voice and received her in the hug. ‘’Welcome to the family.’’

Five.

Spencer got home without making a lot of noise for the time. The clock marks two in the morning. The last thing he expected to see was his wife and his daughter on the couch talking. The TV was on in the soft volume but he could perfectly recite the conversation by ear.

‘’I can’t wait for you to get out of there. We have a few years of difference? Sure, but I know all the goods to use on dad.’’ Estelle was talking with the same voice she used to talk to her dad when she was little. ‘’Mom is harder, but dad is so much easier to convince.’’

‘’You’re gonna be in so much trouble if he hear us, Ellie.’’ You spoke, stroking the teens' hair. 

It took you and Spencer almost five years to have a baby. You felt like this family missed something else and the baby was your answer. Everyone was excited about it. You were seven months pregnant at this time. Sleeping is harder when you are bigger than ever, most nights were like this. You usually lay in her bed and keep talking until fall asleep or have to pee again. 

‘’Why I wasn’t invited to this party?’’ Spencer showed up holding his coat and bag. 

‘’Only pregnant woman and teenage girl are invited to insomnia party, sorry babe.’’ You teased him.

He dropped his stuff and sat between you and Este’s. He leans over to give you a kiss and a hug on the teenager. He placed a hand on your swollen belly before cleaning his throat. 

‘’This is your dad, hear me out, no one is going to use the goods on me. In this family the only one that can escape from things is the cat.’’ You three let out a loud laugh. ‘’Maybe mom because we love her. By the way, don’t let your sister got into your head she’s crazy sometimes.’’ 

‘’Spencer Reid, don’t play with the daughter you raised.’’ 

‘’By the way, you should let our mom stay more than thirty minutes without having to pee. I used to love sleeping with her but she wake up too much.’’ Estelle places her hand closer to her dad. 

Spencer spent hours just listening to you two interact, like mother and daughter. Laughing, sharing secrets and jokes, cooking and singing songs. Some of the moments just make sense in the bubble you create and make him happy. 

‘’Fine handsome, time to help me go to bed. You put this baby on me now you help. I want to be able to sleep more than you tonight.’’ You grab his arm, trying to stand up. ‘’I love this but I can’t wait to this baby pop out of me.’’

‘’I like your pregnant personality. You’re sassy and no one can say anything to you because you have a gun. Besides, you’re prettier.’’ You kiss your daughter's forehead before walking upstairs. 

‘’I’m always pretty and no, I have three guns.’’ The gasp she let out made you giggle. 

Spencer’s hand was in your lower back slowly walking with you making sure you’re safe. 

‘’I love you and our little family that I steal from you.’’ 

‘’Wanna know a secret?’’ You nod. ‘’It was already your family since day one.’’ 

[midnightanxietytm]

Between the walls of Ba Sing Se

Contents: Role-swap AU, verbal fights (on Zuko's part at least), Katara angst, lots of introspection, tension so thick you could cut it, mentions of the Painted Lady, Pre-relationship Zutara, Katara is mid-redemption arc, She's working in a teashop with her gran-gran.

A/N: This is an extra set in the same universe of this fic, I wanted to explore the characters more before making the decision of actually writing zutara into the fic. I appreciate constructive criticism, you can send me an ask if you want to discuss anything abt this fic.

“Playing pretend, Princess?” It hurts because he's saying it, because they both know it has truth to it, because somehow, he knows her.

Word count: 881

It's a long long way

To Ba Sing Se

But the girls in the city

They look so pretty

It’s weirdly peaceful, cathartic even, or at least as peaceful as customer service can get. Still, Katara finds herself content with this existence, this life she and her grandmother had made for themselves. She likes the tea, likes their house, likes the pai-sho, and if she ever needs a little more adrenaline, she has The Painted Lady.

But then he comes along, rattles her peace, shakes her to her very core; that ruthless reminder of her every mistake.

And she’s so unlucky, because out of all the Avatar's friends, Zuko is the one who isn’t afraid to go toe to toe with her. Sure, his sister had the raw power, but he had the technique, the balance, and the knowledge of… well her. 

“Playing pretend, Princess?” It hurts because he's saying it, because they both know it has truth to it, because somehow, he knows her. And she doesn’t know how to answer, not anymore. She looks away, outside the alleyway behind the shop, upwards towards the sky, anywhere but his amber eyes.

“I'm not a princess anymore.” She says, only because she realizes he's waiting for her answer, sizing her up, determining If she’s a threat to be dealt with. She glances at the Dao on his back and wishes she had the courage to learn something like that, she wonders where he did.

“Oh? What are you, then?” There’s so much venom in his words, so much hatred, and she’s just starting to realize that she does deserve that, she has caused him nothing but suffering… And once again she can’t answer him, because of his hate, or was it her own hate? It poisons her veins, clogs her throat. And because she doesn’t know it just yet. Who is she if not Princess Katara of the Southern Tribe? Who was she then? Who is she now?

She leans further into the shadows of the alley, hoping they engulf her, wanting to run, but unable to run from his burning embers. “I don’t know…” She admits in a whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear it, hoping he leaves.

“Really? Because I could have sworn someone called you by Kya today, is that a new trick of yours?” And that she can’t stand. She steps forward, fists curling and posture changing so fast that Zuko, despite himself, is taken aback, and raises a hand to his sword hilt.

“Don’t say that name like that!” She bites. “You can spit my name with as much poison as you want, but not that one! Don’t come again. Leave me alone!” She’s back inside the teashop, fast as a tidal wave.

Zuko stands there, hand firmly gripping his dao, for a good few seconds before his body finally allows itself to relax; he exhales slowly and leaves the alleyway, and he ignores his shaky hands, ignores how the girl he’s used to focus all his hate on had looked so… fragile.

He can handle her being a threat, he can handle all the scars and scratches she’s given him, that he’s given her, but he can’t handle the hurt in her eyes, he can’t afford to let his empathy get the best of him, not during war. He can’t let his guard down.

And yet… Once he finds his way back to the upper ring he finds himself slipping into the brooding and introspective manners he often does whenever he's shaken by something. 

So he trains.

This is a newer habit, one that came after they started their journey. Now he trains every time he has a particularly harsh dilemma, and during those training sessions he makes sure that the moon is his only companion. In this particular situation though, the moonlight distracts him, because it also reminds him of her.

She’s stronger under the veil of the night, every waterbender is, but she especially is a fearsome thing to behold. He wondered how long it’s been since she could bend in the open, he wondered how it would feel to have to hide such an integral part of oneself. 

Zuko has always been a little jealous of her when it came to bending; she had training, experience, she was a fully realized master. All he had was the partial teachings of his uncle, who was often busy running their village and a week of class back when they stayed with Hama, everything else was him improvising, adapting, and pushing forward because he had to. His bending was solely for survival, hers was for fighting, that he had managed to hold his own against her so many times before was a miracle.

And to see such foe so utterly lost, it moved something deep within him, something he couldn’t quite place. He echoed her confusion with each fiery punch and kick of his own, then with each swing of his swords.

Zuko trained until his muscles were sore and his mind was somewhat clear. It was well past one in the morning when he finally sat down near a water fountain, breathing heavily. He didn’t really have a conclusion for his dilemmas.

But he thought he could really go for some tea in the morning.

[helionpegasus]

ceilings part 5

Azriel x Reader

masterlist

summary: Reader always had vivid dreams due her Seer heritage. But things take a twist in her life when she wake up in a world that is not hers and the loving male that were always in her dreams shows to be very different from what she known him to be.

warning: none. but let me know if you find anything :)

words count: 1979

author's note: we're baaaack! now things will start happening more quickly and i'll try not making it too slowburn haha. i'll also include my personal theories in the story. anyway, hope you like it ❤️‍🩹

A whole month had passed.

The dream with little Azriel never happened again, and you didn’t know if this was good or bad. Because it wasn’t the only one to disappear, all the other dreams you used to have did.

All that surrounded your mind was what could that possibly mean. You came to Velaris because of those dreams, so it’s logical that you must need them to go back. So the possibility of not dreaming ever was starting to get the best of you.

The Shadowsinger being so wary of your being was not helpful at all. Once you talked about it with Nesta and she only said that “He’s like this. It’s nothing personal.”, but it feels extremely personal to you.

How he would stop talking about something once you enter the room, or send a bunch of his shadow to follow you through the House of Wind, and even look at you in a weird way during dinner.

Today you woke up to the rain pouring outside, the thunder humming low. When you enter the dining room to have breakfast, you find Nesta there, with a cup of tea in hand and a book in the other.

“No training today?” You ask sitting across from her and already putting a piece of strawberry pie that you found to be your favorite thing in this world.

“Headache. I’ll take the day off, since dealing with Cas and Az the whole day would only make it worse.” She said, taking a little laugh from you. You can’t even imagine what it was like to work with both of them.

“Well, today seems like a good day to relax. I don’t think the rain is gonna pass too soon.” You took the last bite from the pie.

“You’re right.” Nesta sighs. “I’m gonna give myself the privilege I didn’t have for so long: Spend the whole day in bed.”

“You deserve it!”

“Thank you! See you at dinner.” She took the last sip from her tea and exited the room going directly to the main hallway.

Unlike Nesta, you weren’t feeling so useful lately. So you think the best decision was to take your cup of tea to the library and continue your search, which you started last week but ended up in nowhere.

The floor you use to study wasn't much visited, you assumed the first time you went there. Even after having your presence for a whole week handling books and discovering shelves, all of them still have a layer of dust. And maybe the people who live here simply didn’t hold a curiosity in learning Prythian history, you thought that it would be a better option than the fact that this floor was so close to the darkness under it.

After hours of hard searching, because you are dealing with history and most of the books were written in the oldest language, your mind gets tired of it. Your tea was no longer hot and your eyes hurt from reading.

When your mind starts questioning if it was lunch time already you felt the presence. His presence. You could ignore how much it makes you uncomfortable, like you have been doing for all this time. But, today you were tired of it.

“You know I can feel when you are spying on me, right?” You say closing a book. Your back is still fronting him. “I’m just saying that, in case you didn't know, I think it would be good the information that I knew you were there all those times.” Then you finally turn to face him.

Azriel tried to not show the shock in his eyes, since this was the first time something like this was ever happening. He decides to stay silent, trying to form a sentence that wouldn’t make him sound like a stubborn child.

“Look, I don’t know what you have against me. But I already said a bunch of times that I’m willing to answer any question you have and I also said that Rhysand or Feyre can look in my mind if they want to.” You said looking into his eyes, hoping that he could see the truth in them.

You never stop being surprised with how his eyes could be so different looking at the same person. You.

“I don’t trust you.” He simply said.

Those words cut deep that you wanted to. With his low voice echoing in your head.

“Well…” You start, still gathering the right words to say and not betray how hurt you felt. “If I could help to change that, you certainly know where to find me.” You gave him a small smile that did not reach your eyes, and left the library not in the mood to continue your research anymore.

*

Azriel went straight to the River House after the quick conversation. Calling Rhys through his mind to an emergency meeting.

“You should look through her mind.” Azriel said when they entered the High Lord’s office.

“We already had this conversation a million times, Az.” Rhys says massaging his nose bridge. “She never was suspicious and never made any harm to any of us or the court.”

“Yet.”

“For Mother’s sake, Azriel.” Rhys rolls his eyes.

“I’m just saying that I think we should treat her like any stranger that enters the court out of nowhere.” Azriel said firmly with his opinion. “We gave her a roof the first day she came here. We don’t know anything about her, and I think this decision can put us in danger.”

“I wouldn’t make a decision to put any life in this court in danger, Azriel.” Rhysand's look was not friendly anymore. “And I don’t know what is happening with you lately. This is not the first time I say that you are having weird behavior.”

The Shadowsinger still remembers every word they shared in this same office in the first week you spent here.

“I’m just worried.” Az's voice was calmer this time. “I have noticed some things about her that I found strange.”

“And what would it be?”

“She can sense me around while I’m still hiding in the shadows.”

“She always had a weird connection with your shadows, we’re all working with that and she included.”

“Right. But I noticed that during her first nights, she disappeared.” 

“What do you mean?”

“When she went to sleep, she just disappeared for a few hours and then came back still sleeping. She did this for two or three nights and never did it again.”

Rhys was processing the information Azriel just said, his mind working on how she was capable of doing that on the House of Wind, a place that you could not winnow in or out.

“I can ask if she gives me the permission to look into her mind.” The High Lord says. “But if she doesn't, I will not force her to do so.” 

Azriel let out a sigh of relief, only nodding at his friend before leaving the office.

*

You weren’t expecting a reunion today. So when Nesta knocked on your door saying that everyone would meet in the living room, you needed to take time to fix yourself.

Everyone was already there when you arrived, and Feyre invited you to sit by her side.

“You must be wondering why we decided to do this unplanned meeting.” Rhysand says and you only nodded in confirmation. “We all want to help you to find answers and we need answers as well…”

“You want to look into my mind.” You finish his sentence.

You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at Azriel for half a second. Remembering the convo early this morning.

“I’m only doing this with your permission and firstly, if you are comfortable with it.”

“You can look at it.” You look into his eyes, transmitting all the confidence you could gather.

Rhys took the spot in the chair in front of you. The first thing he did once he entered your mind was make himself present. He could be sneaky if he wanted to, you knew that from other experiences with Ruhn even if he only entered to communicate.

“I’ll show you everything and some things may need an answer. But I would prefer to answer all questions you may have privately.”

“You have my word.”

And you showed him everything.

The first of your dreams, the work you have been doing with your friends in Crescent City, your life with them and the University. Till what happened the day you came to their world, the fight with the strange creature and your last dream.

“The creature that attacked you was a kelpie.” Rhys said once he left your mind with all the information he needed.

The atmosphere of the room that was thick with expectation suddenly turns into shock and worry.

“A kelpie? In my world they look very different.” You say mostly to yourself.

“What do they look like?” Nesta asks to you.

“They are species that belong to the House of Many Waters. They are shapeshifters that appear mostly as a black horse and sometimes in a human form.”

“If those things were supposed to look like humans they are in the wrong shape.” Nesta says remembering her own fight with the creatures. That got a fit of laughter from everyone in the room.

“Thank you for showing me, (Y/N). Now that we have more details, maybe we can help you more.” Rhys said, offering you a soft smile.

“Since everyone is here, we should all take dinner together.” Cassian says and we all agreed.

“I will take Nyx and be back.” Feyre says going to the balcony with wings already appearing in her back.

“We can talk now if you want to.”  The High Lord offers and you give him a nod.

He leads you to the private library of the house. Much smaller than the one the priestesses work, but as beautiful.

You both sit on a couch near a window. You loved every view of this place, because Velaris was beautiful in every angle and every weather.

“I put a sound barrier and a shadow barrier, so we can talk freely.”

“What do you want to know?” You ask the male in front of you.

“You only dream with Azriel specifically, do you have any idea why?”

“No. I’ve been waiting for this answer and a bunch of other ones for a long time too, but the only one answer was learning his name when I arrived.”

“I’ve dreamed with Feyre before we met each other too…” He says with an expecting look that makes your cheeks warm.

“You think we are mates?” Rhys only smiles. “Well I bet that your dreams with Feyre were not like those, and I am certain that she wasn’t from another world.”

“Well, you’re right. But that can still be a possibility.” He took an invisible dust from his pants. “Warn me if those dreams return, we see what we can do to help.”

“I’ll let you know.” 

“Also, Azriel commented to me that you disappear while sleeping. Do you have any explanation for that? Because people weren’t supposed to be able to winnow from here.”

You gave him a questioning look. A million questions going through your mind.

“Disappear? I don’t have the power to winnow.”

“He said that it happened on your initial nights.”  Rhys was also confused. “You don’t remember exiting in the middle of the night?”

“No. Those nights I only dreamed.”

Then Rhysand started to connect all the points. He also didn’t see you in any other place besides your dreams, so you disappearing did not make sense. And he would know if you manipulated any of the memories.

The fact was that there were only dreams. Vivid dreams.

“I think that your dreams are where you disappeared to.”

taglist (overlined users i couldn't tag): @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @valeridarkness @his-sweet-nightmare @leeknows-wife @mich0731 @kristalhi @marina568 @brekkershadowsinger @cafe-inaaa @lovierhys @kenmaisacinnamonroll @alt-ghost @marigold-morelli @thelightnddarkness @amysangel @thecraziestcrayon @fall-myriad @a-court-of-milkandhoney @hungryforbatboys @elizarikaallen @allison-rosewood-maximoff​ @gamarancianne @weirdo-fun @tsumsamu @myheartfollower @acourtofmarvels @sunshine-and-midnight-rain @act1839 @reareaikea

if you asked for being tagged but it didn't happened, please gentle remind me :)

[alpydk]

Two Years (Gale x Tav)

Wrote this after reading a fic with a similar theme that honestly rubbed me up the wrong way with how it was handled (Sorry not sorry).

I will warn, this is not a happy read. - Word count 984

Ao3 Link

Summary : “You see me as I am and do not find me wanting. With these stars as my witness, I swear you'll always be enough for me.” It’s been two years since you and Gale agreed on the decision to have children together. That precious day where he held you as you finally admitted that you wanted children with him afraid of what he might say. He’d always said he loved to teach, that he loved you. But children of your own, you knew that could be a deal breaker. And yet he said yes, he said yes before taking you by the hand to the bedroom as if simply making the decision would instantly result in conception.

It’s been two years since you and Gale agreed on the decision to have children together. That precious day where he held you as you finally admitted that you wanted children with him afraid of what he might say. He’d always said he loved to teach, that he loved you. But children of your own, you knew that could be a deal breaker. And yet he said yes, he said yes before taking you by the hand to the bedroom as if simply making the decision would instantly result in conception.

You’d spent many a night in each other's embrace, his subtle touch upon your thigh, his leg nudging yours aside as he mounted you. But after two years things changed. He no longer takes the time to kiss you tenderly, holding your chin with his fingertips as you stand before the bed. You no longer look into his eyes with devotion as he rests above you, instead choosing to close your eyes and wait for things to be over. You love him but this is no longer a declaration of your hearts entwined. It's now a chore, a must-have to one day get the result you both used to long for.

In the start, you were hopeful and then came the first loss. It was early days and the clerics explained it was something that happened. That it was very common. That you should rest and the gods would one day bless you. The druids explained the cycles of the moons and provided herbal concoctions to aid you best. And you were both hopeful. Gale smiled at you with his deep soulful eyes and you believed them all despite the pain. They told you after loss there was a high chance of conceiving, so despite not wanting to be touched you tried, and you tried again. Ever hopeful that maybe this once would be the one needed. 

He never needed to ask when a cycle ended. He would simply see by your expression, by the puffy eyes if you had cried, or the way you opened the wine without hesitation and he would try to take your hand for comfort just to be shunned away. The guilt each and every time a reminder of how you were failing him. You wished things could go back to how they were two years ago. He loved you more than words could ever explain but you knew deep down that he deserved better.

Loss number two was less traumatic. The nausea came and you kept it hidden for fear of breaking the spell. You allowed yourselves to smile in secret, speaking not of the future, whispering small dreams to one another in bed. Names, would they be in touch with the weave? But when that future didn’t come to fruition you didn’t shed any tears because you had already expected it. You had already grieved before your body even registered what was happening. 

Gale secluded himself in his library looking for the answers that others couldn’t provide. He found so many books and wanted to try so many spells but you put up your own walls. At times he would snap if you interrupted his work. You’d bring him tea only to find the previous cup still full. He buried himself in the research while you tried your hardest to carry on as normal. You wouldn’t show him that you were hurt, keeping up a brave face. Everything was okay, your relationship was fine. You were still hopeful.  

You know he blamed himself. For his affliction with the orb, for his meddling with the goddess. His time in the library grew more and more and you spent days alone only to reunite with him for those passionless nights. And you told him it wasn’t his fault. That it was yours, something wrong with your body, your mind, your faith and when he denied it so vehemently you pushed him away. You both refused to blame each other. Instead feeling the rejection as you denied the feelings that came in waves. You both stayed away because you didn’t want to hurt one another with the pain you carried so heavily, the grief that you felt no one else could understand. 

“Your time will come. Well at least you know it can happen. My friend once…” You nod, tired of the platitudes, growing angrier at the world. You don’t even recognise yourself anymore and you understand why Gale won’t look at you, why the gods won’t bless you. Why would they bless you when this is the person you are now?

Two years and Gale now sits in front of you holding your hands in his, a distant reminder of a night under the stars. With you, I forget my goddess. He says he misses you. That he misses what you had together.   And for the first time in months, you finally see each other past the pain and loss and you realise you have missed him as well. So very much. You sit together and cry, holding each other, whispering apologies and I love yous.

He places a hand behind your head, the soft pad of his thumb brushing the tip of your ear and he kisses you with such a longing. As if he has been starved of your touch for so long. You place your hand on his chest, the markings of the orb long since faded and you feel his heart beat in tandem with yours. You let your hands roam, playing with the ties of his robe and for once you do not think could this be the night. You will think of that afterwards. For now, you want him. You want what you had, what you have. 

[fieldofdaisiies]

Hey , loved all your writings...Can u please write something about Azriel and reader planning about starting their own little family and the night when they conceive their child ( something smutty ) and the reader finally got pregnant , Azriel taking care and being overprotective and being there for her during birth...ik this is going to take a long but if you're comfortable you can divide this in parts .... plzzzz do consider this one 🥺❤

Of course, thank you so much for requesting. I hope it is fine that I put everything into one story which is a longer one <33

Azriel x Reader | Shadowsinger Baby

type: smut and fluff  warnings: baby making word count: 2773

*all rights reserved*

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"Gods, you’re so beautiful," Azriel groaned against the shell of your ear, breath hot against your skin, lips wet. "My beautiful mate." Your legs curled behind his hips, forcing him deeper inside of you. Gods, he filled you so perfectly—stretched you out but the slight sting was nothing but welcome. 

You moaned loudly, heels pressing into his ass while your nails dig into his broad shoulders. The bed groaned under Azriel’s ministration. 

It was all so good, so wonderful. He was the best male you could have every hoped for and one thing had become clear to you in the past days. You wanted to start a family with him. You knew it was one of his greatest wishes—both his brothers now having children of their own. 

"I love you so much and I think I am ready," you said, voice barely above a whisper. 

Azriel stilled—both inside and outside of you. He held himself up, lips parting slightly, strands of hair toppling over his forehead. The spymaster’s gaze searched yours, eyes starting to glow and his lower lip trembling. "For us to be parents?"

You moved your hips up, urging him to move again. "Yes, I want us to become parents. I want us to start a family.” You grinned at him when your mate finally got back to his senses and pushed into you again—his pace now slow, thrusts long and deep. “But you take the contraceptive tea?” “Stopped yesterday morning,” you breathed, hand twisting into your mate’s hair while pulling his head down yours. You gave him an open-mouthed kiss, moaning into his mouth when Azriel’s hand slid up to knead your right breast. 

“You are perfect.” Azriel smiled and you had hardly ever seen him so terribly happy. Yes, it had been the right decision. 

“I cannot wait to fill you up, watch you belly swell and grow and finally hold our child in my arms. Gods, you will be so beautiful, all round and pregnant,” Azriel drawled and licked from your cleavage up to your neck. You giggled and threw your head back, gasping loudly.

Both of you came with each other’s name on your lips, moaning, growling and groaning. When Azriel finally eased out of you, he made sure to scoop everything back inside—just to be super save it would work out. You had laughed at him, which quickly was cut off by a moan when your mate decided to clean up the very rest of his doing with his tongue and buried his face between your thighs for another twenty minutes. You came undone once again. 

~~~4 months later~~~

Conceiving for fae was difficult. And it would take a long time. Azriel and you both knew that and so you as often as possible tried you very best. 

Azriel suckled on your right nipple, his thumb toying with the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs as he took you for the fourth time that night. “A little bit louder, my mate. Want the whole city of Velaris to know who makes you feel that way.” 

You chuckled at your mate’s request, but complied, screaming his name from the top of you lungs. There were only a few things you liked to do with Azriel as much as sleeping with him and with the prospect of creating life it became something even more special and sacred between the two of you. 

Your mate’s thrusts were long and deep, gentle and slow, making you feel every glorious inch of his proud length. It was true what they said—wing span said a lot about other body parts. You kissed Azriel deeply, pouring every ounce of love you felt for him into this moment. 

The spymaster came with a shout, spilling into you and staying inside you for a bit longer. He collapsed on top of you, pampering your skin with soft and damp kisses, chuckling against your skin while his index finger circled your belly button. “Maybe soon we are parents,” he hummed when easing out of your wet heat. 

~~~8 months later~~~

Alright, conceiving was terribly and agonizingly difficult. But you wouldn’t give up, obviously. 

“Maybe it works better —fuck— that way!” Azriel groaned against the skin of your neck, letting you ride him. You bounced on his lap, the tip of his proud length touching that one terribly pleasurable spot inside of you over and over again. That night was different. Things were different, your body felt different. You knew that that night it would happen. You knew that that night you would get pregnant. 

You clawed at his strong shoulders, pelvises meeting with every thrust. You could feel him pulse inside of you, twitch and you knew he was close. 

“Say my name!” Azriel commanded. You bit down on his neck and moaned your mate’s name against his skin. Skin slapped against skin, forgotten were the soft and tender nights were you slowly made love hoping it would get you pregnant. There was nothing soft or gentle that night, you had once again been desperate for each other. You had wanted nothing more than for the other person to claim you. You had barely managed to strip out of all your clothes before Azriel had sheathed himself inside of you. He had been gone for a week, on a mission to the continent— you had to make up for the missed time that night. 

“Fill me up, my mate. Make me pregnant. Put a baby in me!” you said which pushed your mate over the edge. He pulled you with you, pure satisfaction and pleasure crashing into you like a tidal wave. It washed over you, made you feel all numb and tingly. You felt like falling, his hot come filling you to the brim. That night it had worked. That night you would get pregnant, you knew that. You felt it. Slowly you climbed of your mate, falling back to the mattress while blowing out air through your mouth. You wiped your hand over your face, collecting the sweat when Azriel rolled over as well and brushed his hand over your belly. 

“You think it worked?” You dipped your chin, smiling while biting down on your lip. “Yes. Yes, I think so. I think we are soon going to be parents.”

Azriel sat up, eyes trailing over your whole body. And then he smiled, grinned actually. “I can't even tell you how happy you make me. How happy the thought of you being a mother makes me. Or of us being parents.”

You smoothed your hand over his, squeezing tightly and pulling Azriel down to your chest where he stayed for the rest of the night. HIs hand smoothing over your belly, while he softly hummed until you both fell asleep.

The happy message came two weeks later. You had gone to Madja for a routine check and she had told you the happy message. You had actually planned on keeping it a secret from Azriel for a bit and then surprising him with some special announcement, but you were just too excited so you blurted it out the moment you stepped into your shared place.

“It happened! We are going to be parents. I am with child!” You had barely finished your sentence when Azriel came running towards you and scooped you up in his arms. You swirled you around, a sob left him and he pressed you against his chest. 

“Yes?”

His body trembled, the feeling of pride and pure bliss reaching you through the bond. It made you feel warm in every fiber of your body. You couldn’t contain your happiness, tears spilling out of your eyes while you held your mate tightly.

“Yes! We are going to be parents.”

You hugged for another ten minutes before Azriel softly carried you over to the couch and placed you on top of it. He braced your legs on the couch, nestling in between them and shoving your shirt up to your breasts. His fingertips dance over your still flat belly. There was no baby bump yet, but it soon would be here. 

“Our baby is in there. I hope his wings won’t cause you much trouble.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment and then had to chuckle. “I am not worried about wings, Madja assured me it will be fine, but what makes you so sure it will be a body?”

Azriel lifted his gaze from your belly and looked at you with a grin on his lips. “I just have a feeling. It will be a boy, I know that.”

Rolling your eyes you had to laugh again and placed a hand over your mate’s. He kept on stroking your belly, kissing your skin, softly nibbling on it and rambling on about the future. You had hardly ever heard your mate talk that much. He also talked about names that he would like to call the little one. Callum, Adan, Vance and so on. You threw in that it could be a girl as well. Ella, Josie, Frea would names that you would like. You came to the conclusion that it would not at all matter what gender your baby had as long as it was going to be healthy and happy. 

In the weeks and months that followed Azriel hardly ever left your side and when he had to go on a mission he made sure someone was always by your side, keeping you safe and keeping you company. Cassian and Nesta were over, Nesta chatting with you about your pregnancy while the two of you watched your mates build up the baby bed. Gods, Azriel looked more than hot and delicious while building something. His sleeves were rolled up, sweat coating his forehead, his expression so focused and—

“Don’t worry, a few weeks after the baby is here you can go back to your bedroom activities,” Nesta chuckled next to you. She lifted her cup of tea and brought it to her lips. Grinning at you with wicked delight she took a sip. Snorting, you shook your head at your friend. “How the hell did you know what I was thinking about?”

“The scent of your arousal was drowning out the scent of your pregnancy which told me someone was very horny.” You laughed loudly which drew the males attention to you, but when they asked you what it had been about both Nesta and you just laughed again and told them that it wasn’t too important. Once the bed was built up, Cassian and Nesta stayed for dinner and only left later that night. You thanked them for the nice day and the help and waved them goodbye until the disappeared behind the clouds in the sky. 

You quickly decided to throw the trash out before calling it a night. When returning to the kitchen you had actually expected to find your mate there, but Azriel was no where in sight. You went looking for him and found a small light burning in the room that would soon belong to your baby. The door was only a slit open and you peeked inside, seeing your mate lean agains the baby bed. HIs hands were braced on the frame, his lips forming a content smile while a single tears rolled down his cheek. You stepped inside, approaching your mate. Careful of his wings your curled your arms around him from behind, you belly making it a bit difficult for you to be close to him. So Azriel pulled your forward, your back against his chest, his arms sneaking around your body. His shadows danced over your skin, brushing up and down in soothing circles. “You think I deserve this?” Azriel whispered into the dead silence of the room. Your breathing halted for a moment before you brought his hand up to kiss his palm. “There is nothing you deserve more than that, my love. I cannot wait for us to hold our little baby in our arms. For you to be a father.” You felt your mate’s chest rumble behind you, his breath warming the back of your neck and your shoulders. “I love you so much, my mate!”

~~~two months later~~~~

“Come on. One more. Push again. My love, one more push,” Azriel breathed against your damp hair. Azriel had crouched down beside you, being their for the whole labour. Madja examined your centre, telling you she could already see the head and that you had to push a bit harder. Everyone was telling you to push harder, but that was what you were already trying to do. It was more than painful and the part where you had to push out the wings was still about to come. 

"Push!" Madja commanded and you did as told. There yet was another contraction, everything squeezed and everything hurt and ached, but you pushed and screamed. The cry hollowed through the room, leaving your throat burning. Azriel held your hand tightly, his head dropping to your shoulder. He inhaled your scent, a single tear of his falling onto your arm. 

"You can do this, my love. You are so strong. A few more, the head is already out."

Your answer was a mumbled curse, that escaped you through gritted teeth. You squeezed Azriel’s hand so tightly that for second it drained of blood and colour.

With the help of forceps and some assistance and after cutting you open a tiny bit, there was nothing holding back the baby. 

“That’s it, push. Come one, one more. The baby is nearly out,” Azriel cried against your shoulder. Wiping over your head with a wet cloth while pampering your skin with kisses. 

Madja once again inserted the forceps, somehow pushing the wings in. With a loud scream, that tore through bones your head dropped back to the bed. You loudly exhaled and Azriel felt like throwing up. His stomach churned, panic settling into his gut when your chest was heaving rapidly. 

Seeing you in so much pain was the worst kind of torture the spymaster could have imagined. Your feet were braced on the bed and everything between your hips and the tips of your toes was covered in blood. It was beyond Azriel how someone could lose so much blood and still be alive. 

“Get the damn baby out!” you shouted which drew Azriel’s attention back to your face. He leaned over you and kissed your nose. “It is nearly done, my love. Just one more push, come on.”

Once again you did as told. 

You throat burned, your hands fisted the sheets and you cried out. Never had you ever been in so much pain. You knew it was worth it, but still—

You screamed again and the shadowsinger placed his head against your forehead.

“I love you so, so much, my love,” he whispered and brushed his fingers through your damp hair. "Stay with me." 

Tears streamed down his face when he kissed your temple and suddenly there was this shrill and loud noise. 

A baby cried. Azriel lifted his head, looking to Madja who held up a tiny crying bundle. A shout-y sob left Azriel and he kissed your cheek again. 

Madja cradled the tiny baby to her chest and cut through the umbilical cord.

Another shout of happiness ripped itself free from Azriel’s throat. He couldn’t contain his bliss.

“I was right,” Azriel whispered when he sat down on the bed beside you, leaning against you and showing you your child for the first time. You had lost a lot of blood, passed out momentarily and then slept for a time. Azriel had not once left the baby’s side, cradling it to his chest and talking to it about its mother. 

“About what?” you breathed, trying to sit up to finally look at your baby.

Gods!

“It is a boy!” Azriel grinned. Tears fell out of your eyes onto the tiny baby boy. “He is beautiful,” you exclaimed and reached your weak hand forward to brush over the baby’s chubby cheek. Azriel carefully handed over the baby and placed him on your chest. He lay down beside you, pulling the two of you close to his warm chest. “We are complete now. A family,” Azriel mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “I can't tell you how happy I am.”

The tiny baby boy mewled, lips bubbling before burying his cheek in your chest. 

“A family,” you sobbed and cradling your baby tightly and nestling against your mate. This was the start of something new. The start of your family. 

tags: @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek