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cosmic-whispers · 2 years ago

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Control - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel attacks you after being mind controlled by an enemy with daemati powers and struggles to grapple with the guilt that follows.

Warnings: angst, violence, reader being strangled and attacked, mind control

Words: 6.0k

A/N: Hi everyone! It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, life has been crazy lately and writer’s block doesn’t help. I missed writing and was finally able to get this out. Hope you all enjoy!

Your breath came out in heavy pants and your legs burned as you ran through the thick foliage of the jungle. Eldric, the daemati high fae you and Azriel had been tracking for the last week, turned a sharp corner and you pushed your legs harder, ignoring the burning ache in your thighs. You groaned in frustration after his image disappeared around the corner. He had evaded you again.

You slowed to a stop, knowing the pursuit was pointless. Your shoulders slumped and you ran a hand down your face. The sound of flapping wings filled your ears as Azriel broke through the branches hanging overhead and descended near you. A soft hand landed on your shoulder, the thumb rubbing soft, comforting circles in the fabric of your leathers.

“Should we look for him again?” you asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, disappointment and frustration shining in his hazel eyes.

“We’ll find him again,” Azriel said.

“He’s good,” you said. And he was. He was cunning, fast, and endowed with the same, rare power as your High Lord. He could be standing right in front of you and you would be none the wiser if he was able to break through your mental shields. He was nearly unstoppable. After a failed assassination attempt on Rhysand—where the male had gotten entirely too close—Azriel and you had decided to hunt him down and eliminate the threat.

“We’re better.” You looked at him. Despite his obvious annoyance, he was confident in his words. You smiled softly at him, admiring his unwavering determination.

“Getting cocky?” He smiled at you, his features lightening up, and he winked at you. You laughed, nervous as your cheeks heated up and your heartbeat increased. You looked away, hoping he did not notice just how flustered he made you.

“I enjoy the challenge. Things were getting too easy.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him.

“I have a shadow tracking him. This is his home, we have him cornered. We’ll get him soon.”

Despite his comforting words, the brief thought that you were on Eldric’s playing field crossed your mind. That perhaps he was toying with the both of you. You didn’t dare speak that into existence. You nodded at Azriel and you turned, retreating together through the thick underbrush until Azriel was able to fly the both of you out.

The small inn you were staying at was stationed near the jungle's edge. The flight there was short and you relished being in Azriel’s strong arms as long as possible.

The room was small, the single bed pushed against a wall and a tiny restroom where Azriel’s wings barely fit in off to the side.

“You can freshen up first,” he offered and you smiled, grateful to get the sweat and grime off your skin.

You walk into the dingy, cramped room, grimacing at the tiny tub you had been forced to squeeze into for the past week. You closed the door behind you and your face heated at the lack of a lock. The only thing separating your body from his was one thin piece of wood without a lock. You prayed to the Mother that he could not scent the sudden arousal that flooded you in unrelenting waves, surprised at your own self-control for the past week.

You forced yourself through the aimless bathing, preparing yourself for bed, and trying to distract yourself from the indulgent thoughts of him. You blushed as you slipped the silk nightgown Mor had packed for you over your head, wondering if Azriel had taken notice of the contour of your figure through the thin fabric.

You stepped out of the restroom, eyes immediately finding Azriel’s. His gaze trailed down over your body and you felt every cell in your body ignite. He was silent for a few seconds, causing butterflies to erupt within you.

His eyes met yours once more, intense and unreadable, and heat crept up your neck and face.

“The restroom is free,” you said, needing to break the heavy silence. Your voice was quiet and you hoped he could not hear the quiver when you spoke.

He nodded, gaze still unwavering from you. You stared back until he cleared his throat and made his way into the restroom. You let out a heaving breath, hoping to shake the tense nerves. You distracted your thoughts away from him as much as you could, getting ready and climbing into the bed. The bath water ran muffled through the door and your thoughts wandered. He was naked, with just a wooden door with no lock in between the two of you. You felt your body heating and hoped that sleep would overtake you soon.

The water shut off after some time and he exited the bathroom. He was shirtless, tan skin glistening from the steam of the bath and the hot climate. Your breath caught at the sight of his defined, rippling muscles and the swirls of tattoos adorning his skin. No matter how many times your eyes were blessed by the sight, you found yourself struck dumb every time.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at you with his brow furrowed. “You seem flushed.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped he could not notice the bashfulness that filled you.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired and it’s warmer here than I’m used to. I’ve been away from home for too long”

You quickly faced away from him, laying on your side and moving as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You focused your thoughts on your breathing rather than the male, trying to calm yourself. There was shuffling behind you and you felt the bed dip as he laid down next to you. Your heart was racing and it nearly beat out of your chest as he shuffled closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, pinning you against him. Your skin felt electric, set alight by the feel of his rough hands and the weight of his arms around you.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he murmured, his gravelly voice close to your ear sending rippling shivers down your spine. He had to be doing it on purpose. He was the most observant person you knew. How could he not realize the effect he had on you?

You gulped and gently cleared your throat. “Good night, Az.”

Neither of you had ever spoken about it. You were the one that was able to pull him from the dark crevices of his mind. And he was the one who was able to comfort you when no one else could. He was your safe place when your walls crumbled around you. You trusted him more than anyone. The lingering tension was always heavy, but your friendship was sacred and you had formed an impenetrable bond you were unwilling to break.

His arm tightened around your middle, pulling you tighter against his warm body. His shadows swirled around your hands, softly tickling your skin and you sighed, content and finally relaxed as his soft breaths lulled you to sleep.

————-

The bright moon shined through the window, illuminating the dark room in a soft, silver light. His thoughts raced through his mind—barely forming before another took its place. Between the feel of you in his arms in that damn nightgown and the elusive daemati, he knew it would be another sleepless night.

Despite the comfort of you safe in his arms, Azriel couldn’t sleep. The taunting, smug smile of the daemati male haunted his mind and he simmered in anger. It shouldn’t be so hard to catch him. It shouldn’t have taken him this long. The male should never have gotten that close to Rhysand in the first place. He should have never let it happen.

He needed to prove himself—to redeem himself. After centuries of honing his skills, Azriel had an appreciation for his powers. He was confident in his ability to serve his court. He was a capable spy, his shadows giving him an edge over most adversaries. But the whispers in his mind would never be fully silent—he would always be that scared little boy, desperate to prove that he was good enough to deserve everything he had.

And after a week of tracking Eldric, he was still nowhere closer to catching him. It felt like he was chasing smoke. It felt like he was failing.

You sighed softly in your sleep, turning in his arms to face him and you snuggled your face into his chest. His eyes turned to you and softened at your peaceful expression. Your presence always calmed him, centered him.

His heart beat wildly in his chest and soared at having you like this. He smiled softly, memorizing the feel of you and your soft breathing in his ears. The past week had been bliss—sleeping with you in his arms and having you so close to him.

Your sweet scent drifted toward him and he reveled in the essence of you—his best friend. He trusted you like no one else; he was able to confide in you with secrets that not even his brothers knew. He found himself falling for you more each day. He knew that friends don’t look at each other like you did. Deep down, he had strong suspicions about who you were to him, but he never dared to think about it too much—too afraid to be wrong and disappointed. It was wishful thinking to believe that you were fated to him.

He sighed, knowing he was too strung up to fall asleep. He gently moved you to your side of the bed, making sure you were comfortably tucked in. His scarred hand tenderly caressed the side of your face, your soft skin feeling delightful against his. He admired your features for a moment, wondering how someone could be so beautiful. He shook the thoughts away, making sure you were safe and snuggled before he stood, slipped into his leathers, and left the room.

The darkened halls of the inn were eerily quiet, the patrons and staff asleep. His siphons cast a light blue light, guiding his way outside. He was too restless and needed to leave, to do something useful instead of lying down and being consumed by his thoughts. He could get some work done.

He made his way through the dense undergrowth, footsteps silent and shadows shrowding him in darkness. They easily guided him closer to where he knew Eldric tended to camp, to where his gray shadow had followed him. He secured his mind shields, building them up, ensuring that the male would not sense him. The moon had shifted in the sky and Azriel estimated he had been walking for nearly an hour when he found the secluded campsite. It was almost impossible to see, his belongings nestled at the entrance of a tunnel in the ground, covered by leaves and branches. He hid in the darkness the massive trees provided, his shadows helping shield any part of him that light would reveal.

It was dark, but Azriel could make out light smoke from a small campfire, and the scent of cooked meat permeated the air. He had been there recently. He watched the entrance to the tunnel intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. Was there another entrance he could use to ambush Eldric? He sent a shadow to investigate and continued his surveillance. He stood silently and immobile for over an hour without even a hint of the damn daemati anywhere near.

The shrouding silence of the night was interrupted by a shrill scream coming from somewhere behind him. His heart leaped into his throat, beating wildly as panic crept up in his chest. He knew that voice.

It was you.

His mind emptied of all thoughts as he took off in the direction he heard you from. Why were you here? He had left you peacefully sleeping in bed. He was panting hard, heart nearly beating out of his chest as pure fear spread through him. His body was sweating and he found it increasingly hard to take a deep breath in as if he was being suffocated.

His legs wouldn’t carry him fast enough and his wings kept getting in his way. He screamed in frustration as he twisted in between a thick gathering of trees. Was he even heading in the right direction? His shadows had been dispersed to search for you, but it was taking too long for them to return to him.

“(Y/N)!” he called out. He knew it was risky and that his position would be revealed if Eldric was anywhere near him. But he was desperate to find you.

“Azriel!”

He bolted to his left, your voice guiding him to you. He reached a small meadow, the lush ground free of trees and sprinkled with vibrant flowers and rock formations. His eyes immediately found you, tied to a tree at the other end of the clearing. Your shoulders shook as tears ran down your face as you looked at him and smiled in relief.

“You found me,” you said softly, teary-eyed and vulnerable.

“Always,” he whispered and rushed to you. His shadows appeared, swarming around him, whispering frantically. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, voices becoming deafening and he ordered them away as he reached you. He kneeled and his hand lifted to where thick rope held your wrists together. As his skin was about to brush against yours, you vanished like mist in his hands. He choked on air, distressed, and confusion filled him as you disappeared from right in front of him.

“It was really too easy.”

Azriel’s blood ran cold and his muscles clenched. He turned, finding himself face-to-face with Eldric. He reeled his shadows close to him, preparing for a fight against the male. Eldric was relaxed, his shoulders slumped slightly and he leaned casually against a tree.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Seems like I’ve found your weakness, Shadowsinger.”

Rage was a burning, eviscerating fire within him and he snarled at the daemati, like a wild animal. The male laughed, smug and taunting.

“Where is she?”

“I’m not quite sure. I assume asleep at the inn, right where you left her. Or perhaps she’s woken up and decided to follow you into the jungle. Would not be her best idea–but I suppose that’s why you like her so much. You’re both fools.”

“I will kill you if you hurt her. And I’ll make sure it’s slow.” His fists clenched at his side, his nails leaving deep imprints on the palm of his hand. He fought to stay in control and focused.

“Me? Hurt her?” Eldric laughed, acting offended at the accusation. “I think the one you should be worrying about is yourself.”

In a split second, Azriel had the terrorizing realization of what was about to happen. What he might be forced to do. And no training with Rhysand could prepare him against someone who had honed his abilities for centuries and was willing to destroy his mind.

He tried to resist with every ounce of strength in him, but the talons shredded the shields protecting his mind like a knife through butter. A sharp pain exploded in the forefront of his mind and he screamed in agony as it spread across his entire skull. He was barely aware of falling to his knees and his hands clutched his head, pulling tight against the black strands. His mind was being invaded, the parasitic presence tainting his memories and thoughts and he sobbed. His last thought before the darkness set in was of you.

—-------------

One Hour Earlier

You paced the length of the dark room for the hundredth time, it seemed. You were surprised the ground beneath your feet did not catch on fire. You had awoken almost an hour ago, a brief moment of panic and disappointment filling you as you found the space beside you empty. You cursed the innkeeper for not having a bigger room with another bed. Despite relishing in the feeling of being in Azriel’s arms, you had grown accustomed to his presence and comfort and now were having a difficult time sleeping without him.

You realized pretty quickly that the Shadowsinger had probably gone looking for the daemati alone. He had tried numerous times throughout your stay to go out on his own, claiming he was protecting you or not wasting time. Stubborn Illyrian baby. He was going to get himself killed.

You wished you had daemati powers at that moment. You needed to speak with Azriel, see him, and make sure that he was alright before lecturing him about being reckless. He meant well, you knew that. Yet, the frustration settled low in your chest and you wanted to rip your hair out in distress as your mind dwelled on all the negative possibilities.

You knew him better than anyone. You knew he felt defeated and wanted to catch the damn fae. You knew he felt like he needed to redeem himself, like somehow everything that had happened was his fault for failing to protect Rhysand. He failed to realize that he did protect Rhysand. He stopped Eldric before he could get to the High Lord and has been chasing his tail ever since, getting closer and closer to catching him. Your exasperation with the Illyrian grew like a tightening noose, its relentless grip clutching at you. How could he not see how wonderful he was? Why did he feel like he needed to throw himself into these situations without any backup and risk his own life?

You decided to go looking for him, dressing quickly and grabbing a lantern to light your way. You had to make sure that he was safe.

You hardly knew where to begin searching and figured retracing your steps from earlier in the day was a good place to start. You walked through the dense trees, hoping that a predator was not stalking you in the dark of the wilderness. The soft light from the lantern illuminated the space in front of you and you kept your eyes peeled for anything dangerous you might run into.

You traveled for over an hour, each step spiking your anxious heart and you prayed to find him soon. You find yourself in a clearing, dappled with the flickers of moonlight. Small wildflowers littered the ground, their bright summer colors illuminated by the shining moon above you. You took a moment to admire the scenery before your eyes caught on the soft blue shimmering light emanating from Azriel’s siphons. He faced away from you, but you knew that he was aware of your presence. His spine was straight, body tense and unnaturally still.

“Azriel?” Your voice echoed lightly in the silence of the night, the answering chirps from the bugs and grasshoppers deafening.

He turned to you, steps slow and deliberate.

He glowered at you, a predator locking in on its prey, and you stalled. Fear lit up inside of you for a moment and you took a step back, away from him. You had grown accustomed to his gaze being filled with warmth and softness and the sight of his icy glare sent tremors down your back. He didn't seem to recognize you, his large frame completely still and not a wisp of his shadows anywhere near him.

His gaze remained unwavering, pinning you to the spot for a few more moments until he snarled at you.

“You,” he growled, like a feral animal, his voice dark and coarse. Your eyes widened as he began sprinting full speed towards you, thundering footfalls on the ground bringing you back to reality and you gasped as he reached you. You thought back to all the Valkyrie training and the practice sparring you and Azriel would often engage in, hoping against hope that it was enough to keep you alive.

You swerved to the left as he reached you, using your smaller size to avoid the direct impact from Azriel’s body. While Azriel’s brute strength would easily overpower you, you were agile. He regained his footing, swinging at you and you barely managed to block his arm. Shooting pain radiated down your wrist, and you realized that he had never truly used his full strength against you in training. You would not be able to take him. You knew you couldn’t keep up the cat-and-mouse game for much longer. His Illyrian instincts were intact and he was quick on his feet as he charged at you again, and you were able to avert him once more.

He was much closer to you now, and you took a tentative step away from him. From that distance, you could see his features twisted in rage and the dazed, cloudy look in his hazel eyes. The realization rushed over you like ice water. Eldric. He had broken into his mind. Pure ice filled your veins—his mind was being controlled to hurt you. Your heart clenched and you prayed to the Mother and any gods in the universe that his mind was not lost. That there was still hope of getting him back.

His shadows suddenly appeared, and fear filled you for a brief moment until you noticed they swarmed around his face, momentarily blinding him. He wasn’t using them to attack you–they were attacking him. They were helping you.

You took advantage of his momentary distraction, using the lantern you still had in your hand, and swung, the impact of the metal on his skull echoing in your ears and you smelled the hint of metallic blood. He was still standing upright, trying to fight off the blinding shadows. One wrapped around your wrist, trying to pull you away, but you stood your ground. You could not leave him like that.

You swung the lantern again, hoping to knock him out with the impact, but his large, scarred hand flew out and wrapped around your wrist, the tight grip making you whimper in pain as he squeezed harder. You tried to shake him off, aiming a kick toward his groin, but he growled and blindly tackled you to the ground before you were able to get another hit in.

You heard–rather than felt–your head smashing against the hard rock underneath you. Your ears began ringing, the deafening sound and painful pressure building in the back of your head making you delirious and your vision began to blur. You were going to pass out and that realization made you panic.

You knew he was significantly stronger than you, his Illyrian genetics making him near indestructible. You had no hope. You yelled for Rhysand in your head, praying to the Mother that he could hear you from Velaris. Azriel’s large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing. You looked up at his face–gorgeous, despite the frigid fury that lingered in his features. His empty eyes looked into yours, unseeing and frightening.

The air was trapped inside you, your lungs burning as they begged for air. A stabbing pain spread across your neck as he squeezed harder and tears escaped your eyes. You wanted to beg him to come back to you. You felt your face heat up as the pressure began building further and further in your head. The pulsing pressure intensified and your vision narrowed, a rushing sound filling your ears like a crescendo as darkness greeted you.

———————

Flickers of light danced across your vision. You felt yourself slowly awaken. There were soft, silk sheets beneath you, the air smelled like the cinnamon buns Elain was so fond of baking, and a soft voice drifted near you, reciting lines from a book you had recently read. You forced yourself to blink your eyes open, the light of the window causing them to ache. You groaned and shut your eyes tight in discomfort.

“(Y/N)!” You squinted your eyes open, thankful for the curtains that had just been drawn. You looked up at Feyre as she approached you and grasped your hand.

“We were so worried!”

“What happened? Where’s Azriel? What about Eldric? How long have I been out?” Your voice was raspy, and it felt like needles scraping against your throat when you spoke. You coughed, the burning intensifying, and a sharp headache began forming. Feyre’s hand supported your back as she helped you sit up on the bed and passed you a drink of water and a vial of medication you assumed Madja had left for you.

The cool liquid felt heavenly against your throat and you sighed in relief as the medication began coursing through you, helping clear your mind of the pain-infused fog.

“Please drink it all,” Feyre said. “You’ve been out for two days.” She took the empty glass from your hand and placed it on the nightstand next to you.

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked you carefully. She looked at you, eyes soft and brows creased.

You nodded, Her hand tightened around yours and you swallowed the knot that rose in your throat. “Azriel?” you rasped out, your voice weak and thin.

Tears filled Feyres eyes as she looked at you and your heart raced in your chest as dread filled you.

“Rhys was able to get there in time. Eldric managed to break down Azriel’s mind shields and essentially took control of his mind. His goal was to infiltrate Velaris and go for Rhysand using Azriel. Rhys was able to break the control away from his mind and killed Eldric.”

You stared at her, eyes wide and the blood in your veins had gone cold. You knew damn well the damage that daemati powers could cause. His mind could be obliterated. You quickly shook the thought away, desperate for any indication that was not the case.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s…as fine as he can be. He hasn’t left his room since we returned.” Your heart broke for him–for the selfless, kind male you knew who was being consumed by guilt. You rose from the bed, and Feyre startled, gently forcing you back onto the bed.

“What are you doing? You need to rest,” Feyre said.

“I’ve rested for days. I need to see him.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “It might not be safe.”

You looked at her incredulously. How could she ever think that Azriel would hurt you on purpose?

“How can you say that?! You know that if he was in control, he never would have hurt me. He’s not some rabid animal you need to keep away. He’s my best friend and I want to see him. It’s not his fault this happened.” You broke into a coughing fit again and she handed you another glass of water.

“I know that; I do. I just worry about you. At least heal up first. And then we can go see him.” You didn’t miss the fact that she said we.

You sighed, your body exhausted and in pain, and decided to follow along for now. “Fine.”

Madja soon made her way into the room, happy to see you awake and you went through her examination without complaining once despite the haunting thought of Azriel in your mind. You fell asleep early in the afternoon, your body and mind fatigued.

—------------------

You heaved a sigh of relief as you found yourself alone for the first moment since you had awoken. Feyre had stayed by your side, perhaps thinking that you would try to sneak away to see the Azriel. The rest of the Inner Circle trickled in and out until Rhysand had to gently persuade his wife to join him in bed.

As dusk settled and darkness started to take over, you gently rose from the bed. The rest you got during the day did you good, you felt stronger. You opened the door slowly, sneaking your head out to make sure that no one was keeping watch of your room. You quickly walked the length of the hallway, making your way to Azriel’s room.

You stared at the wooden door, feeling anxious and scared of the state in which you would find your friend. You took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door. Silence greeted you and you tried again.

You slowly opened the door and looked inside after there was no answer. The room was pitch black, with no slivers of light making their way through the heavy, dark shadows that surrounded the space. Only a soft blue light emanated from the corner of the room–his siphons. You made your way to him, making your footsteps loud and deliberate, although he probably already knew you were there. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the wall. His shoulders were slumped and wings were pulled taut against his body. He had never looked so defeated.

“Azriel.” You managed nothing more than a small whisper.

He turned his back to you and tears began to blur your vision. He didn’t want to face you. “Why are you here?”

His shoulders slumped and they shook as he took a quivering breath in. His shadows swarmed around him, trying to shield him from you. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

“You shouldn’t be here. If you had any self-preservation, you would leave.”

You shook your head, taking a step closer to him. Your hands longed to reach out to him and comfort him, but you didn’t dare touch him, fearing that he would close himself off more. “I needed to see you. To make sure you’re alright.”

He let out a cynical laugh and you frowned. “I almost killed you, and you want to make sure I’m alright. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You knew he was upset and angry at himself over what happened. You did not doubt in your mind he was trying to push you away. And you’ll be damned if you ever let him do that.

“Azriel, I know that wasn’t you. I’m so sorry for what he did to you.”

He shook his head, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“I don’t want to see you, (Y/N).” The tears escaped your eyes, your heart breaking a million times over.

“Well, too bad. Because I want to see you,” you insisted.

His spine straightened and he turned to you, eyes full of rage and pain, and glistening with unshed tears. There were bags under his eyes, pronounced and dark. He had not been sleeping. “How can you stand to look at me?” he growled at you. “What I did to you–it’s unforgivable. I’m not good for you. I hurt you. Just leave.”

His eyes traveled down your face and stopped at your neck. You heard the breath catch in his throat, and his eyes widened, face growing ashen and he took a step back from you. Shit. You should have checked for bruises and tried to cover them up. Being so preoccupied with thoughts of the Illyrian before you, the thought had not occurred to you.

“Oh, gods,” he whispered, his hands coming up to cover his face in shame. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He stepped away from you, silver lining his eyes. You took a tentative step towards him.

“Az, you’re not going to drive me away. You’re my best friend, I’m never going to abandon you. I want to be here for you.”

His eyes blazed as he glared at you and you could almost feel him vibrating in unbridled rage.

“I almost killed you! How can you not understand that?! I almost—“

You cut him off before he had the chance to continue. “You didn’t, though. I’m still here. I know that you weren’t in control. It’s not your fault, Azriel. I could never blame you for what happened.”

He shook his head, dejected. “Why are you here?” His voice was quiet and small, and you had never heard him speak like that.

“You already know,” you said slowly, your voice steady despite the tears flowing down your face. He stared at you, silent and stoic. He was waiting for you to take it back. To turn away and leave him. He knew why you were there despite what he had done. It was the same reason he had promised to always protect you. It was the same reason why you were always so comfortable with each other and why it was always so easy for him to let his walls down when he was around you.

“No,” he whispered, eyes unwavering from yours. “I’m not good for you. And I certainly don’t deserve you. You shouldn’t want that.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and slowly walked towards him, closing the distance between the two of you. He didn’t step away, but his eyes followed you, flickering down to the floor in shame when you got too close. Your hand raised, hovering over his face and you paused, giving him the time to pull away if he wanted to. He stayed still and you pressed your palm softly against his cheek and he sighed, closing his eyes.

“You’re not a monster, Az. I know that. You’re a good male—the best kind there is.”

He shook his head and a tear escaped, trailing down his tan cheek and you gently brushed it away.

“The things I’ve done…” He trailed off, unwilling to put his sins into words.

“You’ve done difficult things for your court, but I know that you don’t take any pleasure in it. You do it because it’s what’s best for everyone. To protect the people you love. What happened was not your fault. Someone took control of you—please don’t blame yourself for that.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes slowly moving up and meeting yours. His gaze flickered back to the dark, hand-shaped bruises around your neck. Your fast healing was already starting to fade them. He raised his hand to touch you, but he pulled back quickly. Your other hand grabbed his, intertwining your fingers and you squeezed his hand in comfort. You brought his hand up to your face, pressing a soft kiss against the scarred skin of his knuckles.

He let out a sob, grabbing you and pulling you tight against him, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame and enveloping you in the scent of mist and cedar. He dug his face into the crook of your neck and his arms tightened around your waist.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, and you hugged him tight, trying to comfort him as he cried.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you whispered, caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.

He shook his head, weeping as he tried to calm his heaving breaths. “Yes, there is. Please.” His voice trembled as he pleaded for your forgiveness and you tightened your arms around him. There was nothing you had to forgive him for, but you knew that he had to hear it. You knew it would help him start to forgive himself.

“I forgive you. I know you would never hurt me.”

“I almost lost you,” he whispered, so low that you almost didn’t hear him. “You’re everything to me. I will never let anything like that happen again, I promise.”

There was something so astoundingly comforting about being held by Azriel, chests pressed together and arms wound around each other. The fact that he let you hold his hand, the feel of his flushed cheeks against your hand. He thought so little of himself and your heart clenched in sorrow for him. You wished he could see himself how you saw him. He brought you peace and relief. He meant more to you than you were ready to admit out loud.

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you.”

It would take so much for him to be able to forgive himself. There was so much you needed to talk about, but you knew the right moment would come along. Azriel needed your comfort and you needed him in that instant.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel

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anglbby444 · 1 year ago

Text

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader smut.

Warnings; none, vanilla sex <3

After bidding your maid farewell for the night with a kiss on the cheek, you nestle yourself into the soft comforters of the bed, which is surrounded by a room that is beautifully decorated thanks to your family’s maids, you feel a familiar crater form next to you. With a grin, you turn over and look into the eyes of your husband, Anthony Bridgerton. “Hello dearest.” He says after placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder, you humming contently in response. “Did you have dinner yet, my love?” He questions between more kisses to your shoulder as he leans over your figure. You murmured out an “mhm” as you take in and attempt to memorize the feel of his lips on your skin. “Mm, good good, so did I…although I must admit, you look rather delectable tonight, for a lack of a better choice of words.” He mumbles against your skin, drawing a playful scoff from you. “Anthony! How scandalous..” A smile finds its way onto your face as you sit up and turn around to face your husband, connecting your lips with his.

His hands begin to wander, fingers tracing every inch of skin he can find. Starting from your shoulder, his nimble fingers leave a trail of goosebumps down your arms, chest, breasts, and tummy as his teeth gently latch on to your earlobe. Although most of the skin he’s touching is covered by a soft pink silk nightdress, that doesn’t stop the goosebumps his touch creates on the soft flesh. A moan threatens to escape from your throat as his fingers begin to move lower and lower, eventually hovering above your mound as you feel him chuckle against your skin. You can feel his smirk grow as his fingers find their way into your panties. “A-Anthony!” You cry out.

It is no secret that Anthony Bridgerton likes to make you beg for him to fuck you. No matter if he knows exactly how you want him to fuck you, take you how he pleases. However, as you'll soon find out, that dosen't stop him from wanting to hear it from your pretty litle mouth. "Is your pretty little pussy wet for me? Hm?" Anthonys voice is a devilish one at that, his hot breath tickling the outer shell of your ear. He continues to kiss down towards your neck, lips suctioning a soft portion of skin as he chuckles when he feels you try to buck your hips up. In true mean Anthony fashion, he firmly grips your hips and pushes them down with a growl. "I take that as a yes.."

You let out a sharp breath as his fingers curl into your skin, ever so slightly gliding against your cunt. As Anthony felt the pool of dampness on your heat, he groaned and let out a laugh. "I guess I was right, wasn't I?" He drawls, softly twirling his middle finger around your sensitive bud. You attempted to come up with some sort of sassy remark, but find yourself failing to collect your words. Instead, you let out an almost pathetic sounding whimper. "Anthonyyy...." You call out his name, running your fingers through his hair as you try to buck your hips up once more. This time, he dosen't dissapoint. His forehead presses against you as he shakes his head in playful disbelief. "Say my name like that again and I might just break.." And you took that as a challenge.

"Oh Anthonyyy..." You mewl out his name again, giggling softly as you see him tilt his head and give you a deviant smile. To your surprise, he rips the blanket off of you, exposing your body to him. Although you still have your nightdress on, you can't help but get a bit flustered whenever he sees you so vulnerable. "Well...I think its time to get this pesky dress off of you..." You nod in response and begin to climb out of bed and slowly lift up the dress covering your legs. You know he wanted you to put on a little show. And that you did. Your hair falls down over your shoulders as you let the sleeves of the silk dress slip down your arms. The cold chill that washed over you was a familiar feeling to your already hard nipples. Anthony licked his lips as you fully step out of the nightgown and sashay over to him with a cheeky grin on your face. You crawl onto the bed and look at him with pleading eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. "How do you want me, darling?" His voice became soft, the voice he knows make you feel the safest. Even when hes going to fuck your brains out, as he usually does at least five times a week. "I want you inside me, Anthony.."

Fuck, he CANNOT say no to that. "Guess its a good thing you aren't wearing any panties tonight...Seems like you already knew you wanted my cock tonight." You nod at him with a crooked smile. To your pleasant surprise, he firmly gripped your legs and pulled you closer to him. He let out a chuckle as he placed one of your legs onto his shoulders, spitting on his hand and stroking his already hard cock. Your chest heaves, biting your lip as you look up at him with an already cockdrunk gaze. He leans down and places a passionate kiss to your lips. The two of you exchanged a knowing look, giving him the ok to slip his hard cock into you.

He grabbed onto one of your legs as he gave you a few gentle thrusts, letting you get used to the preassure his cock created inside her. God, you felt like you were in heaven every time he fucked you. He rolled his hips, his tip hitting you in just the right spot. The sensation made your eyes roll back. That sight and your high pitched moans told him all he needed to know. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoded through the room as he started to speed up his movements, his hands finding their way up to your breasts. His large, gruff hands squeezed the pink and plump flesh.

{You’re pretty sure you came four times that night,,,}

#anglbby444 #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fic #bridgerton smut #jonathan bailey

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koyagifs · 2 months ago

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𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

pairing: jongho x f!reader au: 9th member | best friends to lovers | pre! poly | genre: fluff | word count: 2.2 k synopsis: how jongho entered the poly relationship with you and the others warning(s): takes place during halazia era

Jongho panicked when he realized he was starting to develop feelings for you. It caught him completely off guard—he never expected to fall for anyone in this way, especially when he’d always envisioned relationships as something exclusive, just between him and one other person. But everything shifted when he noticed Yeosang getting more affectionate with you—cuddling close, resting his head on your shoulder—especially when Hongjoong and Wooyoung were around. That was when Jongho felt it: the twist of emotion he couldn’t quite name, a mix of jealousy, confusion, and something dangerously close to longing.

So, he started pulling away.

Not in big ways—Jongho wasn’t cruel like that—but he started avoiding those moments when the others were around. He’d show up a little later to group hangs, claim he was tired or busy when he wasn’t, and avoid eye contact with the others whenever he sat a little too close to you.

But feelings don’t fade just because you want them to. And every time you looked at Jongho with that gentle, concerned expression—every time you asked, “Are you okay?” with that softness only meant for him—it chipped away at the wall he was trying to build around his heart.

And maybe… just maybe… he didn’t hate the idea of sharing you. Maybe what terrified him wasn’t the others, but the fact that his heart had already decided you were worth breaking every rule he thought he had.

You had just wrapped up promotions for Halazia, and the well-deserved break couldn’t have come soon enough. For the first time in months, your schedule was quiet, your phone wasn’t buzzing with rehearsals or interviews, and the sun outside actually felt warm on your skin instead of a blur through a van window.

Wearing a soft sundress that swayed gently with each step, you slung your bag over your shoulder and slid your favorite book inside—the one you'd been dying to read since it first came out but never had the time to touch. The pages still smelled new, the spine barely cracked, and just the thought of curling up somewhere peaceful with it made your heart flutter with anticipation.

The boys were scattered around the shared house, doing their own version of unwinding—Hongjoong was sketching in the corner of the living room, Wooyoung was trying (and failing) to convince Yeosang to join him in a dance challenge, and somewhere in the kitchen, Jongho lingered quietly, pretending not to glance your way every time you passed by.

You hummed softly under your breath, the melody light and aimless as your bare feet padded across the floor. The atmosphere was peaceful, golden sunlight pouring through the windows and casting lazy shadows across the wooden floors.

As you passed each of them, you paused to place a gentle kiss on their lips—starting with Hongjoong, who smiled into it before returning to his sketchbook. Wooyoung caught you by the waist and kissed you back a little longer than necessary, smirking when you swatted at his chest. Mingi tilted his head up with that sleepy grin of his, always eager for affection, and San—ever dramatic—sighed like he was being blessed by the heavens. Yeosang didn’t say a word, but the way his fingers lightly brushed your wrist as you pulled away made your chest warm.

You offered soft cheek kisses to the rest—Yunho, who ruffled your hair in return; Jongho, who froze for just a second too long before mumbling a flustered thank you.

Seonghwa smiled, soft and familiar, before gently patting your head. His hand lingered just a second before sliding down to your wrist, fingers curling around it delicately.

"Where you off to?" he asked, his voice as smooth as ever, laced with that quiet warmth he never had to force.

The smile that bloomed on your face in response was radiant—so effortlessly you that it made every heart in the room stumble a beat. Even Jongho, who’d been watching from the kitchen, couldn’t help the way his throat tightened.

"Oh," you said with a cheerful lilt, "I’m heading to the park. I figured since the weather’s so nice and we’re all on break, it’d be the perfect time to finally catch up on some reading."

You held up your bag slightly, the book poking out just enough for Seonghwa to spot the title. His eyes flicked to it, then back to your face, his thumb brushing your wrist absentmindedly. You didn’t notice the small crowd of attention you’d gathered—how Hongjoong had set his pencil down, how Wooyoung had tilted his head with a faint smirk, or how Jongho, frozen in place, had stopped pretending to rinse his mug altogether.

"You going alone?" Seonghwa asked, the question casual—but something in his eyes said he was trying to read between your words.

Before you could answer, Jongho’s voice, steady but a little too fast, cut in from behind you.

"I could go with you. If you want company."

The twinkle in your eyes when you turned to him made Jongho’s heart lurch in his chest. He had no chance of hiding it—not the soft curve of his lips, not the way his ears flushed slightly pink, or the way his grip on the kitchen towel tightened just a bit. You looked so genuinely happy, so effortlessly warm, that it made it impossible for him to keep up the distance he’d been trying to maintain.

You nodded eagerly, the sunlight catching the edge of your smile.

“I’d love for you to join, baby bear!” you said, your voice bright, laced with that affection only you could pull off so naturally. “We’ve barely spent any time together lately.”

The nickname—your nickname for him—sent a quiet ripple through the room. Wooyoung arched a brow, clearly fighting a grin. Yeosang's gaze lingered on Jongho with a knowing tilt to his head. Even Seonghwa, still gently holding your wrist, glanced between the two of you before letting go, a soft chuckle under his breath.

Jongho cleared his throat, trying not to look too proud of himself.

“Alright,” he said, reaching for his hoodie draped over the back of a chair. “Lead the way, then.”

As you walked toward the door, Jongho fell into step beside you—just close enough that your arms brushed now and then. And though he didn’t say much, the faint smile on his lips never quite left.

" i bet you 5,000 won that they'll come back being together,"

Jongho couldn’t help it—his eyes had been on you the entire time.

You lay sprawled out on the blanket you'd carefully spread over the soft grass, the sun casting golden rays across your skin, making you look almost ethereal. Your sundress fluttered slightly in the breeze, and your hair caught the light in a way that made it impossible not to stare. The book you’d been so excited to read now rested on your face, covering your eyes, though your lips curved into a faint, relaxed smile.

You were at peace.

And Jongho? He was a mess.

He sat beside you, arms looped around his knees as he tried to convince himself he was just enjoying the quiet, the weather, the break—but his gaze kept drifting back to you. Again and again. The way your chest rose and fell slowly, the way your fingers absentmindedly brushed at a blade of grass near your side. Everything about you made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He’d told himself he’d just tag along, make up for lost time, be a good partner. But now, watching you under the sunlight, looking so breathtakingly yours, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep pretending that his heart wasn’t fully in this—that he hadn’t already fallen.

And then, as if sensing him, you peeked from beneath the book, blinking up at him with a sleepy little smile.

“Are you staring, baby bear?” you asked playfully.

Jongho froze, caught red-handed, and cleared his throat.

“…Maybe.”

You hummed softly, stretching a little as you sat up, your hands brushing back your hair before placing the book beside you on the blanket. The warmth of the sun clung to your skin, and your dress shifted with your movements, the breeze tugging at the edges. You turned your gaze toward Jongho, head tilted, a knowing look playing on your lips.

Jongho looked like he was trying to play it cool—arms still around his knees, eyes now focused very intently on a distant tree. But you could see the way his jaw tensed, the way his fingers fidgeted slightly against his wrist.

"You okay?" you asked gently, voice laced with that concern only you could make feel so intimate. "You’ve been quiet."

He finally looked at you.

And for a second, everything fell away—the group, the pressure, the unspoken rules he’d written for himself. It was just you, with sunlight in your eyes and that soft, inviting smile he could never seem to get out of his head.

Jongho exhaled slowly, then spoke.

“I didn’t think I’d feel this way,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “About you. About… all of this.”

You blinked, but you didn’t interrupt.

“I thought I could keep some kind of distance,” he continued, eyes locking onto yours now, full of something vulnerable and real. “But I can’t. You’ve always made things feel safe—and now it just feels like… I don’t want to miss out on any of it.”

His gaze dropped for a moment, like he was scared to see your reaction. “Even if it means sharing. Even if I’m still figuring it all out. I just… I want you.”

Your breath hitched, heart skipping once, maybe twice.

And for once, Jongho didn’t look away.

He reached for your hand, gently taking it into his own and lacing your fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. His grip was warm and a little hesitant, like he still couldn’t believe you were letting him hold you like this. But when your thumb brushed against his knuckles, he held on tighter.

His eyes searched yours—quiet, steady, unshaking now.

“I know it’s been a while since one of us actually said it,” he began, his voice soft but weighted with meaning. “But I think… it’s because we’re scared. Scared to confirm what we feel. Because once we say it out loud, it’s real. And real means it can change things.”

You stayed quiet, your fingers still locked with his, your heart pounding against your ribs like it wanted to answer for you.

He gave you a small, almost shy smile. “But I don’t want to be scared anymore. Not when it comes to you.”

Jongho leaned in just a little, forehead almost brushing yours, eyes flicking to your lips for a brief second before returning to your gaze.

“So… I’ll go first,” he whispered. “I like you. A lot more than I planned to. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”

He spoke the words softly, but they landed with the weight of something real.

“You make me feel at peace, like… home. It’s something I’ve missed since we debuted. I used to miss home,” Jongho paused, his thumb grazing over your knuckles with delicate affection, “but then I realized… home is you.”

And just like that, your heart was racing.

The confession didn’t come with grand gestures or dramatic declarations—it came in Jongho’s quiet steadiness, his sincere eyes, his hand wrapped in yours like it belonged there.

You felt your breath catch in your throat, eyes stinging just slightly from the rush of emotion his words pulled from deep within you. For a long time, you’d been surrounded by love, warmth, and safety with all of them… but Jongho’s words hit a part of your heart that had been waiting—aching—to hear this from him.

Your free hand reached up, brushing his cheek with your fingertips, and he leaned into the touch without hesitation.

“I think I’ve always been waiting to hear that from you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with everything you couldn’t quite say out loud. “And now that I have… I don’t want to let go of it.”

Jongho leaned forward, gently bumping his forehead against yours, his smile soft and full of emotion.

“Then don’t,” he murmured. “Stay. Be my home too.”

You smiled, eyes soft with something deeper than words, and gave a quiet nod.

And then—like gravity finally gave in—you both leaned in, slow and steady, as if the moment itself was holding its breath.

When your lips met, the world seemed to slow.

Everything else—the distant sound of birds, the wind rustling the trees, even the warmth of the sun—faded into something muted and distant. All you could feel was him. The way his lips moved against yours, unsure at first, then surer, like he’d been waiting for this just as long as you had.

Jongho’s hand slipped around your waist, drawing you closer, the other still holding yours like he couldn’t bear to let go. The kiss wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was soft, reverent, filled with years of held-back glances, of quiet what-ifs, of growing affection that finally had a voice.

When you finally pulled back, your noses brushed, and Jongho let out the smallest, breathless laugh—like he couldn’t believe it actually happened.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, still close enough for his breath to tickle your lips.

You smiled, your forehead pressing lightly against his. “Me too.”

For a moment, you both sat there in the quiet warmth of each other, the book forgotten beside you, the park wide and endless—but it didn’t matter.

Because right now, your world had narrowed down to one thing: him.

#9th member ateez #9th member of ateez #ateez 9th member #ateez x reader #── ateez: poly

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ellieinink · 4 months ago

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Code Blue, Heart Stolen

Baek Kang-hyuk x Reader

Genre: Slow Burn, Humor, Medical Drama, Fluff, Light Angst, Social Media AU

Warnings: Medical emergencies, hospital setting, occasional strong language

Synopsis: You’re a trauma center resident trying to survive under the infamous Baek Kang-hyuk. Between chaotic ER shifts, teasing coworkers, and life-or-death situations, you never expected your biggest challenge would be dealing with Kang-hyuk himself. As rumors spread and tension builds, one question remains—are you just another one of his underlings, or is there something more?

Chapter 24: The Great Escape (Failed)

Location: The Rooftop

You were trapped.

Not physically—there were many exits—but Kang-hyuk had you exactly where he wanted.

He took a step forward.

You took a step back.

“Babe,” he said smoothly. “Are you seriously avoiding me again?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe.”

Kang-hyuk smirked. “You know, you’re only making me want to chase you more.”

Your soul left your body.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered.

Kang-hyuk tilted his head. “And yet, here you are. Alone. With me.”

Your brain completely malfunctioned.

Because technically, he was right.

And that was very dangerous information for him to have.

Location: Still at the Rooftop

You lunged for the door.

Kang-hyuk blocked it immediately.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “You think I’d let you run again?”

Your breath hitched.

“Why do you keep running?” His voice was softer now. “It’s just me, Y/N.”

You knew that. That was the problem.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

Kang-hyuk sighed, but there was no frustration—only understanding.

“Then let’s figure it out,” he said. “Together.”

Silence.

Heart pounding.

His gaze was steady. Waiting.

And for the first time… you didn’t run.

Location: The Rooftop – Y/N vs. Reality

Kang-hyuk was still too close.

You were still too flustered.

And the worst part?

You let it happen.

“I’m proud of you,” he said casually.

You blinked. “For what?”

“For not running.”

You scowled. “I wasn’t running.”

Kang-hyuk smirked. “Babe, you literally tried to jump off the rooftop.”

You scoffed. “I was looking for a shortcut.”

He laughed, leaning against the door. “You’re cute when you lie.”

Your entire body betrayed you.

Location: Rooftop, Still

Kang-hyuk raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really texting about me while I’m standing right here?”

You froze.

Slowly… you locked your phone.

“No.”

Kang-hyuk tilted his head. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

You refused to make eye contact.

“Y/N,” he murmured.

You hated how good your name sounded in his voice.

“Look at me.”

Nope.

Absolutely not.

You turned your head away—only for Kang-hyuk to gently tilt your chin back toward him.

Your breath hitched.

Kang-hyuk’s eyes were soft.

“See?” he teased. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Oh, you were done for.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

I might get busy, so there will be slow updates from now until Tuesday since I have exams coming. But, I have a lot written in my drafts so I’ll upload them one by one everyday! Anyway,,,, requests and messages will be entertained after my exams!! 🥲🥲

taglist: perm @missroro @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad ,, @ryujinxzyy

#baek kang hyuk #baek kang hyuk x reader #baek kang hyuk x you #ju ji hoon #ju ji-hoon #ju jihoon #ju jihoon x reader #kdrama #trauma code: heroes on call #baek kang-hyuk x reader #baek kang hyuk smau #baek kang-hyuk smau #baek kang-hyuk

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brainddeadd · 8 months ago

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The One Where Jack Meddles

Trevor has loved Yn Hughes since the day he met her.

Yn Hughes has loved Trevor Zegras since the day she met him.

Jack Hughes is sick of his sister and best friend pinning for each other and decides to do something about it.

Quinn Hughes thinks that if anyone is going to date his little sister, Trevor's the best option.

Luke Hughes just wants Yn to cook him some damn food.

The warm sun cast a golden hue over the Hughes family lake house as laughter and music spilled out from the large deck. Friends mingled, drinks flowed, and the scent of grilled burgers wafted through the air. Yn Hughes stood at the edge of the lake, her toes dipped in the cool water as she watched Trevor Zegras playfully toss a football with Jack. She couldn’t help but smile; he looked effortlessly charming, his hair tousled and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, Yn!” Jack called, glancing her way. “Are you going to join us or just stand there all day?”

“I might just watch you fail to catch that pass,” she shot back, her playful tone masking the butterflies in her stomach.

Trevor turned, flashing a grin that made her heart skip a beat. “I think I’ll catch it just fine. Want to make a bet?”

She bit her lip, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “What’s the wager?”

“If I catch it, you owe me dinner. If I drop it, I’ll owe you a night out,” he replied, confidence radiating off him.

Yn felt her pulse quicken at the thought of spending more time with Trevor. “Deal!”

As the sun set and the sky turned into a canvas of pinks and oranges, the party transitioned to the deck. Laughter echoed as everyone gathered around a fire pit, drinks in hand. Luke leaned against the railing, glancing between Yn and Trevor, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, Yn, can you whip up something delicious for us later?” he called out, clearly fishing for her attention.

“Only if you help me clean up!” she shot back, playfully rolling her eyes.

Jack, watching the banter unfold, took a deep breath. He had watched Trevor and Yn dance around each other for far too long. Tonight, he would do something about it. He stood up, a spark of determination in his eyes, fueled by a few drinks.

“Alright, everyone!” Jack announced, his voice loud enough to draw attention. “I think it’s time we talk about something serious.”

“What’s up, Jack?” Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack glanced at Trevor, who looked both curious and nervous. “Trevor here has been hiding a big secret!”

Trevor’s eyes widened. “What? No, I haven’t—”

“Yeah, you have!” Jack pressed on, ignoring Trevor’s protests. “Trevor loves Yn!”

The words hung in the air, a sudden silence enveloping the group. Yn’s heart raced, her breath caught in her throat as she turned to Trevor. His face was a mixture of shock and embarrassment, turning crimson under the dim light of the fire.

The silence broke into a chorus of teasing laughter and playful jeers. “Wow, Trevor! You really need to be more vocal about your feelings!” one friend shouted.

“Dude, you can’t just drop that bombshell!” another added, grinning at Trevor’s discomfort.

Yn felt a thrill of hope wash over her. Did Jack really just say that? Trevor’s gaze met hers, wide-eyed, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction.

“Um, I—” Trevor stammered, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “I mean… it’s not that simple.”

Yn couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering. “What if it is?” she challenged gently, stepping closer to him.

Trevor opened his mouth to respond, but Jack cut in again, waving his hands dramatically. “Look, can we just agree that you two should stop pretending? Everyone here sees it!”

Quinn nodded, smirking. “Yeah, I think Trevor’s a great option for Yn. Just look at them!”

Luke leaned over, a mischievous grin on his face. “As long as Yn promises to cook me dinner, I’m all for it.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” Yn laughed, but her gaze never left Trevor’s.

Trevor finally found his voice, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “I’ve liked you since the day I met you, Yn. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

A wave of relief and joy washed over her, and she took a step closer. “Then maybe you should try saying it now?”

Trevor’s nervousness faded as a smile broke out on his face. “I like you, Yn. Like, really like you.”

The cheers erupted around them again, but this time, Yn didn’t care about the audience. She took another step closer, feeling emboldened by Trevor’s confession. “I like you too, Trevor. More than I can say.”

The laughter and teasing faded into the background as Trevor took her hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “So… dinner? Just the two of us?”

“Definitely,” she replied, her heart soaring.

Jack leaned back with a satisfied smirk, raising his drink. “And to think I did all of this for some good food!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius, Jack,” Luke teased, rolling his eyes.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Yn and Trevor shared a lingering gaze, finally free from the tension that had held them apart for too long. The night was just beginning, and for the first time, everything felt perfectly right.

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras imagines #° braindead writes

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deadforprettyboys · 1 year ago

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i. tried writing a thingy. this is my first time writing anything btw!!!! please be nice ❤️

The One Bed Trope Feat. My Weird Obsession With Enemies To Lovers - G.Waller x Reader

warnings: almost smut! very spicy! you have been warned! minors dni!!!!!!

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you glanced around the cramped hotel room. There was only ONE bed. "You've gotta be kidding me," you muttered under your breath, turning to glare at one Grayson Waller, the man you swore you hated. He leaned against the wall across from you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, as usual. "What's the matter, princess? Afraid you can't handle sharing a bed with me?"

You glared at him in disgust, practically gagging before replying: "In your dreams, Waller, and don't call me that. I'm taking the bed, have fun on the couch." You began walking towards the bed but stopped when you were met with a response from Satan himself.

"Ha! You wish, sweetheart." Grayson smirked, his gaze roaming over your body. "There's no way you're taking the bed. I'm not spending the night on that disgusting old couch." You groaned in dismay, weighing your options until you came to a decision. "Fine, then. If you won't take the couch, I will."

"Now, now, princess." Waller chuckled, his voice dripping with condescension. "No need to get all huffy. Let's be reasonable here." He pushed himself off the wall and sauntered toward you. "What are you talking about?" you questioned. "It's simple, really," Grayson said, closing the distance between you. He sat on the edge of the bed, his arms folded across his chest, facing you. "We can either have one of us suffer on the couch, or…" He paused, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Or...?"

Grayson chuckled, his gaze intense as he looked at you. "Or... we can share the bed. It's big enough for both of us. Plenty of room." You once again glared at him before genuinely considering it for a moment. You knew he wouldn't give up the ghost on taking the bed, and you didn't want to sleep on some old sofa.

"Fine, I guess. Just make sure you stay the hell away from my side of the bed." You leaned against the wall behind you, waiting for him to move so you could get comfortable on your side of the bed. Only, he didn't move.

"Don't worry, princess. I'll keep my hands to myself." He chuckled, clearly amused by your reluctance. "Although... who knows what might happen in the middle of the night?" Your expression changed to one of shock, (somehow) not expecting him to say something so blatantly flirty.

"What did you say?" You managed to stutter out, still in shock.

Grayson's smirk widened as he watched the flustered look on your face. "Oh, you heard me." He stood off the bed and stepped closer, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. "There's something about a cramped space like this... It can make people do things they never thought they would." You tried and failed to back away, realizing you were still against the wall of your shared hotel room.

"What do you mean by that, Waller?" You once again stuttered out, now flustered and nervous.

Grayson leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Come on, princess. You're not that naive. You know exactly what I'm talking about." He ran his fingers lightly down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "But, Grayson, we can't.."

"Can't, or won't?" His voice dropped to a sultry whisper as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Because something tells me you're not as opposed to the idea as you're letting on." With this, you were practically left like a blue screened computer, sputtering out little 'I's and 'But's.

Grayson chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered response. "You're speechless, princess. I've always had that effect on women." He stepped even closer, his body now pressed against yours. "But you're different. You've always been a challenge. But I know you want me, even if you try so hard to hide it." You turn your head away from him, saying "I'm not hiding anything!" A bit too quickly to be believable.

"Oh, really now?" Grayson smirked, his hand coming to rest on your neck. "Then explain to me why your heart is racing right now. Why you're practically trembling under me." Refusing to give in just yet, you lie through your teeth a second time.

"I'm just cold. It's freezing in here!"

Grayson chuckled, clearly not buying your excuse. "Cold, huh? Yet your cheeks are flushed pink. Your breathing is uneven. And your pulse... it's racing like you've just run a marathon. I mean, it's hard to believe at the very least. But if you really are cold, princess, I can think of a few ways to warm you right up."

"Grayson..." you groaned, feeling your resistant attitude faltering.

"Say my name again, princess." Grayson's voice was a seductive whisper in your ear. "I like the way it sounds when you say it like that." His hand slid down to your waist, tracing a path along your hip.

"Shit, Grayson, please."

"Please what, princess?" Grayson's voice was a low growl as he pressed closer, his body molding against yours. "Use your words. Tell me what you want before I lose control myself."

"I want you, Grayson. I need you. God, please fuck me."

He groaned, feeling his restraint snapping at your words.

"Well, princess, don't say I didn't warn you."

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO PUT HERE UHHHH BYE THNX 4 READING ❤️ i hope it wasn't too bad lol !

#wwe x reader #grayson waller #grayson waller x reader #wwe smut #grayson waller smut #one bed trope #smut #enemies to lovers

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wedreamedlove · 3 months ago

Text

[FIC] I Love You 115 (15/115)

Rating: M Characters: Osborn/Reader Word Count: 1737

Summary: An appreciation of Osborn's lips.

You've never told Osborn this, but you love his lips. It’s the way they're an unwelcoming line on his face when he isn't showing emotion, but only you know how soft they can be. It's the way they curve with the rise of an eyebrow when he finds something amusing, like when you challenge him or when he's teasing you. It’s the way they turn up tenderly when he thinks you aren't looking, but you can see his eyes on you in the reflection of a display window. It's the way they part, showing a glimpse of white teeth, when he's speaking or laughing with you. It's the way he holds a thin square between them only to tear that package open with a twist of his head. It's the way they become swollen from kisses and, as a drop of sweat slides past them, the tip of a wet tongue swipes it away as he lowers himself—

“Are you listening? Tsk, you're the one who asked me to summarize this book for you.”

You're pulled back to the present to see Osborn looking at you with that familiar raised eyebrow and curve on the corners of his mouth. Your eyes drift to his slightly pursed lips and then guiltily shift away to the mystery novel in his hand that he had been reading and to which you were struck with an urge to ask him to tell you about just so you had an excuse to stare at him.

But how can your guilty glance escape the eyes of a professional racer and bounty hunter? You miss the emergence of an undercurrent in his eyes, darkening their mint-green by a shade, but you don’t miss how he sets aside the novel and grabs your waist to pull you onto his thighs, making you straddle him on the couch.

Despite feeling him wrap an arm around your waist to secure you in his lap, you still reflexively grip his shoulders to find your balance, swaying a little at the change in position.

“W-what do you want?”

You recall the old adage that the one who strikes first gains the upper hand, and so you immediately question him in a self-righteous tone.

“That's my line.” Osborn leans into the back of the couch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You clearly aren't interested in hearing about the book so, out with it, what do you want?”

As if you can tell him you’re smitten with his looks, in particular his lips, even if he already has a good idea about the devastating impact his handsome features bring to you. But knowing you're attracted to his good looks is one matter and over-the-top infatuation with his good looks is another matter. Before you can come up with a plausible excuse, you hear Osborn speak.

“Ohh, seeing Lil Xiao Five's red face, looks like it was something inappropriate.”

You bristle right away like a cat whose tail was stepped on. “No!”

“In that case, you can tell me, right?”

His word trap pushes you into speechlessness. Telling him isn’t right, but not telling him isn’t right either. Seeing the glimmer of victory dance in his eyes at your silence, you decide to metaphorically smash the cracked pot. “… I was appreciating your lips.”

Surprise flashes across Osborn’s eyes before he regains his usual naughty smirk. “Oh? Did you make any new discoveries?”

You purse your lips, realizing it’s your turn again in this game that suddenly sprung up between you and him. If you stop now, you’re going to be teased endlessly for “appreciating his lips” to the point where you spaced out, and so you’re determined to take back the initiative and fluster him.

“Stop smiling for a second.” You move your hands to Osborn’s face and press your index fingers to both sides of his lips, attempting to push down their raised corners.

“That’s a little hard to do when you’re in front of me.”

You both stare at each other for a moment and you can feel the muscles in his cheeks quiver from trying and failing to restrain his smile. Finally, you give up on waiting for him to control his expression and begin to trace his upturned lip line with a finger. An electric current seems to run through you at this touch, traveling up through your finger, your arm, and straight into your heart, making it accelerate.

“Your lips are on the thin side. Some say people with thin lips are independent, reserved, and cautious. Others say men with thin lips are inconsiderate, fickle in emotion, and unfaithful.”

This time the smile disappears from Osborn’s face and he raises his line of sight from your mouth to study your eyes. “And what does Lil Xiao Five think?”

You don’t respond on purpose until you see him narrow his eyes and prepare to ask again, and then you press down with your finger, parting his lips and making the tip of your finger slide onto the inner side of his lower lip. The sensation of the wet heat there ignites the tight thread of anticipation between you and him, threatening to make it snap in the middle once the flames eat through it.

“I think… only I know that your lips are very, very soft and very, very warm. That those sayings are completely untrue.”

Osborn’s eyes have darkened, turning into surging viridian waves, and every time he exhales his breath scorches your hand. His voice is completely husky. “What else?”

“… When you smile, it makes me really want to kiss you.” Unconsciously, you pull your hand away and lower your voice as if speaking any louder will snap that burning thread. There’s nothing around you and Osborn, yet it feels like everything is closing in, forcing you closer and closer to him. Or more like the air you’re breathing suddenly isn’t enough and you need to be inhaling his scent in order to breathe properly.

A quiet laugh comes from Osborn and his lips involuntarily curve upward again. “Like now?”

“Like now.” Your hushed words are delivered at the same time you lower your head, and he tilts his head up to receive you, like you’re two magnets drawn to each other.

The moment you kiss Osborn you realize you have it all wrong. That tight thread of anticipation doesn’t snap and instead it burns to ashes and flames lick down both sides to spread into your bodies, or else why would it feel like you’re both burning up? Uncharacteristically though, Osborn lets you take the lead and, when you trace the shape of his lips with your tongue, you hear a low grunt escape his throat.

Eventually, rubbing your lips together is no longer enough. The increasingly heavy breaths that are exchanged are too hot and you need something to douse it. You recall that wet heat from earlier and grab his top lip between your teeth gently, sliding your tongue against its inner side. Osborn’s hands around your waist clench briefly before he tilts his head and opens his mouth wider, guiding your tongue directly into his mouth and to a greater source of wet heat with his tongue.

Before you know it, one of his hands has moved up to hold the back of your head as he deepens the kiss aggressively, gradually controlling the tempo when he sucks on your tongue hard enough to make your entire body go limp. You collapse onto him with a whimper and the feeling of his hardness against your lower abdomen, as well as the way his other hand slides up your spine, sends shivers through your body.

In this quiet room there’s only the sound of ragged panting, wet pops and sucking, and the slide of swollen lips against swollen lips. Your ears burn at these suggestive noises but your awareness begins to blur at the edges from pleasure until you hear Osborn’s hoarse voice.

“Do you want to do something more than kiss?” His fingers ghost along the hook of your bra at your back, waiting for your next signal. Familiar images flood your mind and you reflexively clench your thighs, making him grunt and then laugh lowly at this pressure around his legs.

But just as you feel his fingers pinch your bra hook, you pull back from his lips and force your numb tongue to move. “No.”

He stills immediately. “… No?”

There’s a crouching predator there, like if your reason isn't good enough and you’re just teasing him by playing hard to get, then he’ll pounce on you and eat you alive.

You ignore the danger in his eyes to slide your hands to his shirt collar and then you twist your hands and shove Osborn down lengthwise on the couch. Of course, you both know that this is because he lets you, otherwise you would never be able to budge him. You move your butt up, deliberately brushing over the large mound between his legs, to sit more firmly on his taut abdomen and you hear a muffled groan catch behind his teeth.

Before Osborn can do anything else, you prop your hands on his chest and lean down until the tip of your noses are almost touching, and then you enunciate slowly, “I want to kiss you to death.”

There’s a second of stunned silence until Osborn bursts out in laughter. It’s a laugh full of genuine boyish delight and comes from deep within his chest, jostling you on top of him.

When Osborn stops laughing, he looks up at you with bright eyes. His eyes are so bright they’re like the color of an untouched mountain lake when the sunlight lands on it just right, making its surface glimmer and sparkle. The natural red at the corner of his eyes has deepened into a fetching flush and it brings out the layer of moisture in his eyes, as if you just need to touch him one more time and that lake in his eyes will spill over and turn the surrounding greenery into a blooming and wet springtime.

“Okay.” The softness in his eyes is almost enough to drown you. “Okay, then kiss me to death.”

But when he rises to meet your kiss, his hand settling on the back of your neck to pull you closer, you wonder who exactly is the one being kissed to death here.

#light and night #光与夜之恋 #ln osborn #ln xiao yi #series: i love you 115

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periludic · 2 years ago

Note

Hihi! :>

Could I request a (romantic/crush) step 2 Derek with a reader who often dotes on people (especially him)? Maybe reader brings him lunches when he forgets to bring his own or patches up injuries and bruises after his games :) (if possible, maybe reader has like. his same problem (taking care of people and forgetting to care for themself))

the thought behind this is like.derek finally getting love and care too and not just caring for others without any thanks because HE DESERVES IT 😭🫶

Thank you, and have a good day/night!

(ALSO SORRY IF THIS REQUEST DIDNT MAKE SENSE ISNDODMWPS-)

" CARE "

📌 Pairing: Derek (Step 2) x GN! MC

📌 Notes: HEY!! Thank you for the ask I appreciate it :D and I am especially happy to write Derek HCs I love the precious boy so much he deserves so much love <33 I hope you have a good day/night as well!

Derek adored you. Adored how you took care of others, adored how you were always so considerate to people

Especially towards him.

He'd noticed the way you always took extra time and care with him

Always fussing over his injuries whenever he got scratched and bruised from training

Always bringing extra water bottles for him while he's out practicing

Always noticing whenever he'd burned himself out from ruining around all day

It always makes him flustered!!

Whenever he feels your fingers brush against his skin while you try to bandage him up almost makes him want to explode himself (in a good way!!)

Barely stops himself from fainting whenever you ask him if he's doing okay with a look of worry in your pretty eyes

He looks at you like you're an angel whenever you take care of him (he's convinced that you actually are one)

At first, he was in denial. Trying to rationalize that you were just that great of a person (another reason why he doesn't deserve you)

Cove would've needed to point out that fact himself, and insist that yeah, you do give him special treatment

As much as he denies it, he cant help but feel giddy. Probably thinks about it late at night on his bed, giggling and blushing and kicking his legs like a fool

A part of him is selfish. He wanted to mess up more, he wanted to fail, to fall, to get hurt just so you can pamper him

He wouldn't actually do it!! In fact, he probably beats himself up over the evil thought!!

That doesn't mean it doesn't exist though…

Checking up on him daily makes him fall 101% more head over heels in love with you (pls bandage himself up for falling too hard)

Make him lunch and he's just about ready to get married to you for reals

However he refuses to be the only one taken care of, in fact. He's going to take it as a lighthearted challenge, he'll go out of his way to absolutely spoil you.

Bag too heavy? He'll take it! Your legs are sore from running? Let him carry you! There's a door in your way? Its just screaming for him to open it!!

If you deal with the same problems he does, he'd most definitely catch on pretty quickly. He's dealing with it himself after all!

It makes him feel more appreciated, seen. You were someone he cherished that he can relate to

Does it make him happy though? Hell no!

Derek was just about ready to carry the weight of the world if it meant you wouldn't put yourself last

Always assures you that its okay to be selfish every once in a while! That you deserved to be taken care of, that people didn't stick with you so you can handle their problems

They stay with you because you're you, and he thinks you're perfect

He cares about you! So you should care about yourself too

📌 Extra Notes: Again, sorry if my english isnt as good, its not my first language

#our life beginnings & always #our life: beginnings & always #derek suarez #derek x reader #derek x mc #derek suarez x reader #derek suarez x mc

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chenziee · 7 months ago

Text

Speak! (Say No)

Written for the adorable @opfluffzine!! It’s a free digital zine that you can download right here ☁️

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]

—————

Walking around the New Year’s festival in Kano Country’s capital with his wife was somewhat of a challenge. Sai hadn’t expected it to be easy to begin with; even after all these months, Baby 5 was still struggling with her own worth and fear of abandonment.

He didn’t expect it to be easy… but you never realise just how many vendors are out there shouting ‘try our dumplings!’ and ‘play our game!’ until you have to actively stop your flustered wife from following every single one of them. After two hours, Sai had lost count of how many times he had to stop in his tracks and run back to save his wife (and her debt-riddled wallet) from the clutches of someone whose invitations Sai’s ears completely failed to even register.

It was honestly ridiculous how all these shady characters seemed to always circle around her like vultures. Almost like his wife was wearing a big red sign saying ‘SCAM ME’.

“You’re such a pretty young lady! Your hair is so silky and beautiful! This hair pin would be just perfect! Or maybe this one? Oh, how about both? They go wonderful together and match your eyes!”

Sai took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm as he strode over to the next stall, this one just covered in the ugliest, gaudiest, tackiest accessories Sai had ever seen. Even from a distance, he could see Baby 5’s face turning deep red as her hands flew up to cover her mouth, no doubt mumbling to herself about being needed. In passing, Sai couldn’t help but note how cute her flushed cheeks and doe eyes looked—but the thought was quickly overpowered by the annoyance he felt.

Because past his wife, he could also see the shameless, uncaring intent behind the vendor’s forceful attitude.

“Hey,” Sai growled as soon as he was close enough, bringing both women’s attention to himself.

The vendor’s eyes seemed to harden for a split second before that award-winning, fake sales smile took over once more. “I’ll be with you shortly, sir. Please, feel free to browse the wares while I attend to this lovely lady!”

“No, you won’t.” Sai had to try very hard to keep his voice level as he took a step forward, placing himself in between the vendor and Baby 5.

“Sir, you can’t—” the woman started but, once their eyes met, she froze, taking a step back. Sai wasn’t sure if she was simply taken aback by the way he towered over her or if some of his anger was showing on his face.

Not that the reason mattered to him.

Biting back any aggressive remarks, Sai turned away from the vendor to instead throw a look at his wife. “Five, let’s—”

“Darling!!”

“What—?! What are you doing?!” he cried in surprise when Baby 5 threw herself at him, her small form pressing against him as she hugged his arm tight.

She beamed up at him, her big eyes dancing with what seemed like actual sparkles, a giggle on her lips.

“I seriously don’t get you,” Sai mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

This girl’s mind was so confusing and her reactions so random at times that it left him with his head spinning. But… he was starting to get used to it. At first, he would jump out of his skin whenever Baby 5 would call him darling or start fixing his clothes, massage his shoulders, bring him water during training with Boo—or worse, get him breakfast in bed and try to hand feed him as if he were a toddler.

These days, however, he mostly accepted these things as a part of her. A part that needed to be worked on and toned down to be sure, but one that had become… almost endearing. He would rather sit through one of Cavendish’s three-hour rants about how amazing and beautiful and popular he was than admit it though.

But, Baby 5’s overzealous attempt to help and please him were the least of Sai’s concerns right now.

Throwing one last warning look at the vendor, he took a step forward. “Let’s go, Five.”

“Okay, darling!” Baby 5 sang happily as she followed him, her small hands never once loosening their hold on Sai’s forearm.

Sai didn’t mind.

They walked in silence for a while, simply taking in the sights of the festival—all the while Sai made sure to glare at every sales person who only slightly looked like they were about to swoop in.

Finally, Sai heaved a deep sigh.

“Five, you need to learn that it’s okay to say no when you don’t want something,” he said with annoyance tinting his words, glancing at his wife.

She didn’t look back at him; rather, it looked like she was actively avoiding his gaze. If it wasn’t for the way her hands squeezed around his arm momentarily, and the way her already small frame seemingly shrunk even more, he would almost think she didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled after a long while, her voice so low it was barely audible.

And immediately, rage started bubbling in Sai’s veins again.

He clenched his fist, the one that Baby 5 wasn’t basically clutching at, willing himself to stay calm. “I’m not angry.” He paused, before quickly rectifying his statement. ”Not at you.”

That seemed to make Baby 5 snap out of whatever mental state she had thrown herself into. She froze for a second, then her big eyes finally turned up to blink at him. “What?”

“I’m not angry at you,” Sai stressed, his brow furrowing. “I’m pissed at everyone else taking advantage of you! It’s like you don’t even know what you want past all the shit everyone else keeps pushing at you!”

“I—I don’t—” Baby 5 stuttered, but then went silent, her cheeks flushing as her eyes shifted to the side again. Looking so guilty.

The sight sent a new wave of anger through Sai. Just how deeply ingrained could one person’s trauma be? How bad would it have been had her so-called ‘family’ not encouraged her bad habits?

It wasn’t fucking fair to her.

Taking a deep breath to force himself to calm down, Sai stopped walking, forcing Baby 5 to pause as well. He ignored the annoyed comments and complaints from the passersby, not even sparing them an apology for blocking the path. He simply looked at his wife for a moment, taking in her small, confused frown, the pink dusting on her cheeks and nose from the chilly air, the way her breath hitched.

Slowly, Sai raised his free hand to touch her cheek. Absent-mindedly, he noted how cold her skin felt.

“Five, just say what you want. No one’s going to toss you away just for saying ‘no’ or ‘I want crab for dinner’. Not here. And if they try, I’ll kick their asses!”

Baby 5’s eyes went wide. And seeing her surprise, the implications of what he had just said hit Sai like a warship.

Retracting his hand as if Baby 5’s skin had burned him, Sai jumped away from her, so abruptly and forcefully that his arm slipped from Baby 5’s grasp. Immediately, both his hands flew up, and he started waving them in front of himself as if he could shove the awkwardness away.

This time, it was his turn to stumble over his own words. “I just—I mean—”

He froze completely when a new sound reached his ears. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was… and when he did, he could only stare in wonder as Baby 5 laughed. Not a giggle, a huff, or a cute little chuckle that sounded almost painfully fake; rather, it was a genuine, happy laughter, so carefree that it startled Sai. He wasn’t sure if he had ever heard her laugh so easily, so openly.

The sight made his heart jump in his chest, something stirring in his stomach. Surprisingly… he didn’t hate the feeling.

Before he could stop himself, Sai took a step forward; one of his hands shot forward, grabbing at Baby 5’s wrist to pull her towards himself. The girl stumbled forward, falling right into Sai’s arms with a surprised yelp, and immediately, Sai’s other hand wrapped around his wife’s waist, holding her close.

“Da—Darling?! What’s going—”

“I don’t know,” Sai said, his voice tight, his eyes closed as heat rushed to his face. Why the hell did he do that? He just hugged her without thinking after seeing her laugh…

But, when Baby 5’s fingers curled into his coat, clutching at the fabric like her life depended on it, her entire body relaxing into him as her face dropped to bury in his chest, Sai’s regret and confusion evaporated. Instead, a strange feeling of rightness bloomed in his chest, making a smile pull on his lips, and his grip on her waist tightened momentarily.

What was this woman doing to him? Just a few months ago, he was engaged to Ooklicia and couldn’t care less about it—or about Ooklicia and her husband harem, for that matter—but now, he couldn’t imagine being married to anyone else. Couldn’t imagine going to sleep every day without Five by his side.

Stepping away a little, just enough for Five to look up at him questioningly, Sai let go of her wrist and waist; instead, slowly, carefully… he cupped her face. He waited a moment, watching his wife’s eyes go wide, before her expression melted, her cheeks turning pink—not from the chill in the air, but from something deeper and warmer. Her eyes fluttered shut then and, as if on cue, Sai’s heart started beating a pace faster. He was now acutely aware of the way her soft skin felt under his touch, her nose a little red from the cold, her breath visible in the freezing air.

Sai’s ears burned for reasons beyond his comprehension. Why was he so nervous? They were married, for fuck’s sake!

Sai took a deep breath—and a second later, their lips finally connected.

It wasn’t a long kiss; it wasn’t sensual or lustful or erotic in any way… and yet, it made Sai feel hot still.

When they pulled away from each other, Sai couldn’t look at Five’s expression. He knew he would only find a happy smile there, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to face it—or more accurately, couldn’t bring himself to face the feelings that would stir inside him at the sight. His face was already burning, he didn’t need to make it any worse.

Turning away quickly, Sai started walking again. He didn’t protest the way Five rushed over to his side to hug his arm close once more as she matched his pace.

“Anyway—” Sai cleared his throat awkwardly ”—what do you want to do now?”

It took Five a few seconds to say anything, and Sai wasn’t surprised; it would probably be a long road before she could express herself freely. He waited patiently while she chewed on her bottom lip before finally… she replied.

“I… want one of the plushies we saw at the shooting game earlier.”

“Alright! Let’s go!” Sai proclaimed loudly, before he turned them around and started walking with purpose.

“We don’t have to go right now!” Five cried, surprised by Sai’s resolve.

Sai huffed. “If we don’t go now, there won’t be any left!”

“But—” Five stopped speaking suddenly, and when Sai glanced at her, she was wearing an expression so flustered and happy that in that moment…

Sai decided.

He would win that plush if it killed him.

—————

By the time they got home that night, Five was hugging a large, fluffy stuffed cat to her chest.

Next to her, Sai could barely see over the mountain of different plushies—the prizes he’d gotten after beating every single game at the festival. He may have gone a little overboard but seeing that beaming, beautiful smile every time he won…

That alone made everything worth it.

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jackassbrainrot · 10 months ago

Note

Slutty bam x ryan

hands on [bam x ryan]

desc: three times bam and ryan couldn't keep their hands to themselves

a/n: very loosely based on dirty mind by 3oh!3, I got so into the idea of these two just being annoyingly horny lol. it's a different writing style than my usual but hope you enjoy anon!

warnings: smut, semi-public sex, handjobs, blowjobs

word count: 1061

the afterparty

A long night of drinking at Kildare's always found another life at Bam's castle. No matter how drunk they got, as soon as they stepped foot in the castle, they somehow found it in them to drink more. And like every night, it ended in the guys scattered around the giant property, some finding their way onto actual beds and others sleeping in places not even Bam's cats would sleep in.

Ryan and Bam were the only ones somehow still standing, well, sitting on the couch, arms flailing around in a pathetic attempt of a fight. "Stop hittin' me or I'm gon' have to tie you up." Ryan slured, trying to keep the younger man's hands away from himself. "Like you could." Bam retorted, still trying to hit his best friend in the head.

The older man cocked his eyebrow, taking the words as a challenge as he used the last bit of his strength to flip the two of them so he was pinning him down, wrists held in one arm while the other unbuckled his belt to wrap around them. Bam's initial screech of surprise and wiggling was soon replaced by an embarrassed blush spreading across his face as he found himself pinned down and tied up on his own couch, his best friend looming over him with a satisfied grin on his face. Fuck, since when was he hot?

His mind raced as he felt himself harden in his pants, knowing Ryan could feel it against his ass from the position they were in. "That's gay, Bam" He laughed, but didn't move. "Says the guy who's got me tied up under him." Bam tries to sound unaffected, but fails, making Ryan laugh again. "Bet you'd love it if I fucked you like this, tied up and shit."

He trailed off at the end, his own words and Bam's flustered state turning him on, before leaning down to kiss him. Bam kissed back, a muffled whine leaving his lips, annoyed that he couldn't touch the man above him. Ryan ran his fingers along Bam's body, lightly touching over his ribs and hips, making the younger man moan lightly, giving him the perfect opportunity to push his tongue into his mouth.

The kiss was wet and sloppy, their drunk state not allowing anything more elegant. Bam squirmed in his restraints, before Ryan bit his lower lip hard, giving him a silent warning. The older man explored every bit of skin with his hands, gently running his fingers across his tattoos, making him whimper desperately.

Suddenly, Ryan's hand reached up to untie the belt wrapped around Bam's wrists, disconnecting his lips and falling onto the couch next to the younger man. "I'm too fuckin' tired, deal with your own boner." He mumbled, leaving Bam high and dry as he drifted off to sleep next to him.

the premier

They were always touchy, so no one really paid it any mind when Ryan's hand snaked around Bam's waist and he leaned in to whisper something in his ear. No one would've suspected that the random hero was detailing how he was going to fuck the skateboarder into oblivion in the bathroom after they were done with the interviews and photos.

No one paid attention to the blush on the young stars cheeks, assuming it was from the heat of the reflectors or alcohol. No one assumed it was because he couldn't wait for his best friend and co star to push him down to his knees on cold hard tile and using his throat to get himself off.

The interviews seemed to drag on for ages before Bam finally found himself kneeling before him, mouth open, tongue sticking out, waiting for him to stick his cock down his throat. Ryan smiled down at him as he ran the tip across those waiting lips, waiting to hear a pretty whine and that desperate "please Ry" before finally sinking down into his mouth.

Bam moaned as the tip hit the back of his throat, his nose buried in ginger hairs as he swallowed around the cock in his mouth. He moved at a slow and steady pace, his tongue expertly swirling around the tip, pushing Ryan closer to orgasm with every move. He felt the dick twitch against his tongue as the hand in his hair tightened, ropes of white liquid quickly coating his mouth as he swallowed them down greedily.

No one seemed to question the fact that the two of them walked out of the bathroom together, or that Bam's lips suddenly seemed fuller.

the mall

They were at the Mall of America filming an episode of Viva la Bam, when the pair came up with the genius idea to lock everyone else in the same store while they went off to sleep alone in the sports store. As soon as the cameras were off and the crew was sent to sleep in an actual hotel, Bam found his way into the tent they set up for show.

Snuggling next to Ryan, he placed soft wet kisses along his neck, trailing along his jawline. "Ry..." He sing songed, his voice filled with lust as he ran his fingers up and down Ryan's arm, trying to get a reaction out of him. "We are not fucking in a sports goods store." Ryan grumbled, but didn't stop the younger man's movements. "We don't have to fuck."

Bam's hand wrapped around the older man's wrist, pulling his hand down to his own crotch, moaning when Ryan squeezed his dick lightly. "Insatiable slut." His harsh words held no malice, on the contrary, a smile spread across his face as he palmed at the smaller man, his moans and whimpers spurring him on.

He turned his head to connect his lips to Bam's as his hand slipped into his boxers, pumping his dick slowly, the precum lubing it up enough so it wasn't uncomfortable. Bam's hand found it's way into the golden locks, pulling them lightly.

Countless moans spilled from the skateboarder's lips while Ryan's hand moved consistently, slowly pulling an orgasm out of the man. He moaned Ryan's name loudly, shamelessly, as he came all over his hand. Ryan pulled his hand out, bringing his fingers to Bam's mouth to clean, which he did obediently, licking his own cum off his best friend's hand.

#second part is my fav whoops #jackass #jackass fanfic #jackass fic #cky #viva la bam #bam margera #ryan dunn x bam margera #bam margera x ryan dunn #jackass smut

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your-divine-ribs · 1 year ago

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No Nut November Part 3

Words: 3.6k

You try to tempt Van to fail the challenge by putting on a show for him // use of sex toys // it’s just really dirty I’m so sorry ha ha 🤭

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Despite a tricky start to November for Van he copes with week one very admirably. You're quite impressed, not that you'd admit it to his face.

As for you, you find that your own sexual appetite is piqued more than usual whenever your mind strays to your latest sexual encounter, reliving the feeling of letting your inhibitions completely go as you took what you wanted from Van. There was something extremely liberating about it, and it's bolstered your sexual confidence to new levels. That only makes your situation all the more frustrating as you find yourself wishing and hoping that Van slips up and you catch him having a crafty wank behind closed doors. You just haven't decided on a suitable form of punishment yet... well punishment in the loosest of terms. You're starting to suspect that Van's secretly harbouring a submissive kink that you're only too happy to help him discover.

The following Friday rolls around and Van's attention is taken by music making and rehearsals with the band and your boredom sees you flicking aimlessly through social media to while away the hours.

You sigh in frustration as yet another advert pops up on Instagram... there really are too many adverts on this app. You go to scroll quickly by, but then the name of the website being advertised and the fact that there's a 40% sale on catches your eye. It's the adult toy website that you'd been looking at with Van a few weeks back. You never made a purchase at the time but with your mission in mind you decide that now might be a good time for a little shopping spree.

Last time you and Van visited Ann Summers together you were far too embarrassed and flustered to linger long in the aisles, quickly shoving a small vibrator and a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs into your basket before racing to the till to pay. It's a different experience altogether shopping online though. You can peruse at your leisure with no embarrassment at all, but some of the items still make you blush nevertheless. Thirty minutes later you're fishing in your handbag for your credit card and selecting next day delivery, a huge grin on your face and sinful thoughts running through your head whilst you start to plot exactly how you're going to entice Van into losing the challenge.

You step out of the shower and reach for a big fluffy towel off the bale, wrapping it around yourself and securing it at your chest. You'd slipped out of bed and into the shower whilst Van was still dozing and you wonder whether he's awake yet. Last night you'd met all the lads in the pub and Van was a little tipsy, his affectionate touches quickly turning needy by the time you'd stumbled home and into bed which was always his way. You'd resisted steadfastly, reminding him that it was still only the 9th of November and asked him if he was struggling now, how was he going to feel by the 19th? He'd just huffed grumpily at that, mumbling something about 'your stupid idea' and turning over in bed, quite literally giving you the cold shoulder, finally drifting off into a restless sleep.

You'd been dismayed at the time, wondering whether this was still such a good idea, and who was really benefiting from Van's abstinence, but then you'd reminded yourself of your plan and you'd drifted off to sleep with a warm glow between your thighs and a smile on your lips.

"Mmm... what time is it?" Van's sleep-heavy voice drifts across to you as you sit down on the bed, reaching for your tube of body lotion.

"It's just after 9," you reply, not turning around to face Van. You can see his reflection quite clearly in the large vanity mirror sitting on your dressing table. "Thought I'd let you sleep in as I presumed you'd have a sore head this morning."

"S'not sore, it's just..."

His voice trails off as he rolls over on to his back to see you sitting on the end of the bed, bath towel pooled around your hips, bare breasts jiggling tantalisingly in the reflection of the mirror as you massage the lotion into your arms.

"Huh?" You do turn around then, swivelling your body around to fully face Van, keeping a neutral expression even though his slack jaw and wide eyes are making it hard to suppress the smug smile that's threatening to surface.

"What?"

"You were just about to say something weren't you?"

"Oh... I... errr... I forgot what I was going to say now."

You turn away from Van, rising up off the bed, squeezing more lotion into your palm and then rubbing it between your hands to warm it up. It's still cold on your shower-warm skin, delicate goose-bumps breaking out over your body as you massage it over your neck and upper chest, moving down towards the swell of your breasts. You don't need to look at Van's reflection now. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you as he watches on. You take your time smoothing the lotion over your breasts, cupping them in your hands, kneading at your flesh. Your nipples had already pebbled at the feel of the cool air hitting them when you'd shed your towel, and the feel of the cool lotion on them just makes them peak all the more. You let your fingers pinch at them a little, your breathing deepening from the sensation. You're aware of Van shifting on the bed behind you but he stays quiet. Satisfied that he's enjoying the show you squeeze out yet more lotion and start massaging it over your tummy and down over your hips, bending over so Van has a perfect view of your ass. You hear the bed creak as he changes position again and this time he doesn't stay quiet.

"Fucking 'ell Y/N, what are ya trying to do to me, eh?"

You straighten up immediately, turning around to face him in all your naked glory, your skin flushed and deliciously dewy from your skin-care routine, a look of pure innocence on your face.

"What do you mean? I'm just getting ready."

"Oh, come off it. You're deliberately trying to turn me on aren't ya?"

He's sitting up in bed now, the covers draped low over his hips, his hair all mussed and a mischievous smile gracing his lips. A quick glance down clearly shows the bed-sheets tented in his lap and you let your eyes linger there purposefully to show that you've noticed.

"Turn you on? I'm just moisturising. It's part of my daily routine. It's not my fault literally everything gives you a hard-on is it?"

You bite back amusement, managing to maintain your demure expression as Van narrows his eyes at you. "You're telling me you're not trying to tease me right now? I don't believe you."

"Honestly I'm not," you lie, turning away from him and reaching for your silk robe from the back of the dressing table chair, shrugging it on but not bothering to fasten it. "If I was deliberately trying to tease you, you wouldn't have to ask if I was. You'd know about it for sure."

You hesitate, hoping your plan's going to work, titivating your hair in the mirror whilst you wait. It's quiet and you wonder whether Van's going to take the bait, but he does as predicted, and your pulse quickens in anticipation of your next move.

"What's that supposed to mean then, huh?"

You turn to face him, slowly, perching on the edge of the dressing table and leaning casually back propped on your hands, cocking your head back.

"If I was really trying to tease you you'd have lost the challenge already."

"Is that so?"

There's a flicker of something in Van's eyes, a fiery determination. He's so sure he's going to win this but he really doesn't appreciate the fact that you're not going to make things very easy for him. In fact you're prepared to play dirty. Very dirty.

"Uh-huh," you smile, letting your robe fall open fully. "You wouldn't be able to help yourself."

You spread your legs a little but not enough to be obvious. Not yet.

Nevertheless Van's gaze drops down immediately between your thighs and you wonder if he can see how aroused you are. The wild thoughts that have been running through your head all morning have definitely been firing you up and you can feel wetness coating your inner thighs, a steady pulse stirring you through.

"Sounds like a challenge to me," Van says, his voice low. His finally drags his eyes upwards again to meet yours and they're simmering with heat. It's intoxicating, the way that he looks at you with all that hunger. You can feel your confidence swelling and your inhibitions falling away. It's time to push the boundaries now and really tempt him to break his control.

"Maybe it is..."

"Well go on then... challenge accepted."

You reach down to grasp the handle of your dressing table drawer, sliding it open and feeling around inside for a specific object. You maintain eye contact with Van as your fingers alight on what you were looking for, ramping up the anticipation as you hesitate for a moment. His tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip and he shifts again where he sits but he stays quiet, waiting, his face a mask of curiosity.

"I have a little surprise for you..."

Your heart's pounding now, matching the throbbing pulse between your legs. You curl your fingers around one of your new purchases, taking a deep breath before you slowly withdraw your hand, finally revealing your seductive plan to Van.

"Fucking 'ell," he breathes, eyes bugging out of his head, mouth falling open in surprise as he watches you in wonderment, the sultry temptress, extending your tongue to lick at the shaft of the large, thick vibrator that you're holding. "When did ya buy that?"

"Oh I just ordered it the other day when I was bored," you say nonchalantly, spreading your legs even wider. "Was missing your cock, so I thought that this might help..."

You place the tip of the toy on your lips, suckling gently on the end, teasing him.

He swallows, hard, his eyes pooling with heat, his voice raspy as he speaks. "And... does it?"

You shrug. "I dunno... shall we find out?"

You can hardly believe what you're doing, putting on a show for Van like this. You've touched yourself in front of him before but always when you've been in bed, exploring your own and each other's bodies together. Now it's just you, totally exposed and in the spotlight with him as the captive audience. If you'd realised how powerful it would make you feel though you'd have done this a long time ago. You can feel the adoration and desire radiating off of him as he looks on eagerly, not quite believing his eyes.

You flick the switch on the base of the vibrator to a gentle hum as Van watches on, bringing it down between your spread legs and brushing the tip lightly over your clit. A small sigh escapes you and you press it harder against your skin, a shiver coursing through you. "Mmm..."

"You're not playing fair."

Van's voice is thick and choked, his eyes glazing with lust as he watches you lower the toy to your entrance, running it over your folds, coating it in the juices of your arousal.

"Want me to stop?" You ask, a sly grin on your lips which pull into a small O as you work the toy over your sensitive nub again, your slickness enhancing the feeling.

"No... no... don't stop," Van blurts, his face flushing as he squirms on the bed, the bedsheets falling away from his erect cock which looks temptingly hard, just begging for attention. You fix your eyes on it, making a show of licking your lips.

"Feels so good," you murmur breathily, your inhibitions melting away. "I really wish it was you though... it doesn't feel as good as you do."

You run the vibrator against your slit before starting to push the tip inside you. It's so much bigger than your previous purchase which is a small, discreet, slim model that keeps you company whilst Van's on tour. You'd been too embarrassed in the shop to go for anything more daring. In contrast this one is long and thick and much more life-like, and you're already anticipating how good it's going to feel when it stretches you out.

"I wish it was me too," Van whines. "God I wanna fuck you so bad right now. You wouldn't believe how much."

"Too bad you can't though, huh?" You taunt, your arousal growing by the second, the power you hold over Van at that moment like a hit of the most addictive drug.

You start to push the toy further inside you, taking your time, watching Van's reactions, the way his eyes blaze hungrily and his hands fist at the bedsheets. His bottom lip's pulled in between his teeth, bitten in frustration. A low groan leaves his throat.

"Fuck..." you breathe, long and drawn out as the vibrator moves deeper inside you, your walls fluttering around it as it slides against your slickness. The vibrations pulse through you, intensifying the sensation of fullness. You allow yourself a moment to compose yourself, leaning back further on the dresser, spreading your legs as wide as they'll go.

"You really wanna see this?"

His reply is immediate, words spilling from him quickly. “Yeah, show me... wanna see you... please."

And it's the 'please' that really gets to you, travelling straight to your core, the way he says it, the neediness in his voice. He's in absolute awe of you, wrecked before you've even touched him. And god, how you want to touch him. You want to tear him apart with your bare hands and then piece him back together again, tease him until he's begging with tears in his pretty eyes.

"Please babe..."

So you grant him his wish, pulling the vibrator back and driving it inside you again, slow at first, over and over, moaning loudly as it catches a delicious spot deep inside you at every downward thrust. You try to keep your eyes on Van's but you can feel them rolling back involuntarily, fluttering shut as waves of pleasure make you clench around it.

You just fuck yourself even harder, deep enough that you can't control the whimpers falling from your lips, your hips rocking back and forth. You're almost lost in the moment but then you hear Van groaning softly and your eyes snap open to catch his hand straying towards his dick, his body shuddering as his fingertips brush over the head.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The words burst from you, sharp and harsh, shocking even you. Van's mouth falls agape but he doesn't stop, not right away, tentative fingers wrapping around his dick, desperate for some relief. You're sure you've broken his will and you immediately stop what you're doing, withdrawing the vibrator, already missing the sensation.

"I'm sorry babe... I'm sorry. Don't stop, please don't stop. I'll be good..."

His voice is strained and gruff, breathless, his eyes dark and blown. It's taking him all his willpower and restraint not to forego the challenge but he'd rather torture himself by watching you get yourself off. Just as suspected your denial is his sweetest torment... and in turn his obedience is your greatest turn on.

"Good boy," you purr and you swear you practically see his soul leave his body at those two words.

He moves his hand away quickly, his fingers flexing needily, grasping again uselessly at the sheets. His neglected cock stands rigid and stiff, the flushed tip weeping pre-cum. You lick your lips again, imagining positioning yourself over him and sliding down on it, how good it would feel to fuck yourself hard on him but you resist, knowing the longer you hold off the more satisfying the reward will be for both of you.

So you resume your sleazy show for Van, propping one foot on the back of the dressing table chair to afford him a better view as you tease your entrance with the vibrator before inching it inside you once again. You've ramped up the vibrations this time and it makes you tremble as you hold it in place, locating your g spot and applying more pressure until you feel the waves of pleasure start to swell.

"Oh Van," you moan, knowing how he loves to hear you call his name in the throes of passion even though he's not the cause of it this time.

"Baby... fuck... you look so good. Make yourself come, please... I really wanna see you come."

You tip your head back, your free hand rising up to tug at your stiffened nipples. You slide the toy fully out, feeling the wetness trickling down your inner thighs, using your slick to slide the tip over your clit in tight strokes that make your whole body quake. You're so close.

You force your eyes open to look at Van, loving the yearning etched on his face and the fire in his eyes, the way his hips are bucking upwards like he's imagining driving his cock inside you. He looks so good like this, but all you can think is how much better he'd look if he was cuffed to the bed, helpless and vulnerable and needy whilst you edged him relentlessly until he was a ruined, gorgeous mess. Your usually self-assured, in-control boyfriend, fucked out and desperate and begging for his release.

The wicked thoughts just push you closer to the brink of your own high and you whimper and tremble as your hips snap up harshly to meet the source of your pleasure. You're lost now, a desperate goal to reach your climax eroding all other thoughts.

"I'm gonna come!" You announce, fixing your eyes on Van's, soaking up the need in his as he watches you start to fall apart, twitching and writhing against the dresser. It feels good and you let that fact show, your breathy moans filling the room as the swells of your orgasm begin to ripple through you.

"Oh god... oh fuck... feels so good," you moan, dragging it out even when the waves start to subside, not wanting to lose Van's undivided attention.

Not that you need to worry. He sits there transfixed, leaning back against the headboard, his eyes glazed and his skin flushed, trying to rein in his desire. Small beads of perspiration adorn his bare chest and his forehead, giving him a lustrous sheen, his hair sticking to his forehead. He's so tightly wound he looks like a bomb that's ready to explode.

Perfect.

You sigh deeply, leaning back against the furniture for a moment to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling deeply, loving the fact that your normally talkative boyfriend has been rendered speechless by your display. You suppose you should feel sated but in truth you feel like you're only just warming up, your body and your mind revving up for the main event.

You watch Van squirm, the desire so thick running through his veins that he doesn't know quite what to do with himself.

"Told you didn't I? That you'd know if I meant to tease you?"

You let a smirk dance on your lips, teasing, knowing. It's a question you don't expect an answer to but he gives one anyway, still caught under your spell.

"S'not fair you know... you winding me up like this."

"Didn't hear you complaining when you were begging me not to stop."

You raise an eyebrow playfully, your smile widening into a cheeky grin as you toss the vibrator down carelessly on to the bed next to him, grasping the edges of your robe and finally covering up your body, withdrawing from Van whilst he's still teetering on the edge of control. It's all about timing now and you can't linger too long. You don't want to give him chance to cool off too much and lose that sense of needing you. You quickly step towards the bedroom doorway.

"Hold on... where ya going?"

Van calls after you and you pause in your tracks, swivelling around to face him, taking in his dazed expression. "Oh I've got loads to do today, I'm making my mum a cake, then I've got to ring round and see who's coming to Benji's party. Might clear out the garage after lunch..."

You tick off the jobs on your fingers, purposefully calm and collected, not like you've just put on a show that would make a porn star blush. Van looks on disbelievingly.

"What? After that? You're just going to go off and do chores? But what about..." he pauses, pulling the covers up over his lap, covering his erection. "What about me?"

You laugh then, shaking your head, letting your smugness show, delighted with yourself. "What about you? Thought you said this'd be easy?"

"B.... B... but..."

You don't let him finish, turning on your heel and heading for the door, firing a suggestion over your shoulder as your parting shot. "Another cold shower maybe?"

Part 4

#no nut november #catb imagines #van mccann x reader #fanfic #vanfic #smut

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fanficsfreeideas · 6 months ago

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day 23 single parent

Chapter 4

Alastor hadn’t expected the sharp pang of emotion that struck her the first time she heard it. Niffty, chasing after Vox in the living room, her tiny arms outstretched, had called out with unrestrained joy, “Daddy!” The word hung in the air like a spark ready to ignite something bigger. Vox froze mid-step, his expression a mixture of shock and wonder. His parents, seated nearby, exchanged warm, knowing smiles. Alastor, standing unnoticed in the kitchen doorway, felt her chest tighten. Was it jealousy? Fear? She couldn’t tell.

Niffty, oblivious just laughed as she reached Vox and tugged at his pant leg. “Daddy, pick me up!” For a moment, Alastor thought Vox might break. Instead, he knelt and scooped her up, holding her close as though she were the most precious thing in the world. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and for a brief moment, the guarded businessman seemed to vanish.

“You called me… Daddy,” Vox said softly, his voice trembling. Niffty giggled. “You are my, Daddy?”

A lump formed in Alastor’s throat as she watched. Vox’s arms tightened around the little girl, and for a fleeting second, it looked like he might cry. Over the five months since their marriage, Vox had grown attached to Niffty in ways Alastor hadn’t anticipated. At first, he had approached fatherhood with the same clinical efficiency he applied to everything—attentive but reserved, more focused on fulfilling a role than forging a bond. But Niffty had a way of breaking through his walls. Her unrelenting energy, her innocent delight in the world, and her unwavering belief that Vox belonged to her chipped away at his detachment.

Alastor couldn’t deny the change. She’d catch Vox sitting on the floor with Niffty, clumsily playing with her toys or reading her bedtime stories with a seriousness that made her laugh from the next room. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he was trying, and Niffty adored him. But with Niffty’s boundless energy came challenges. Vox, who prided himself on staying composed, often found himself flustered by her inability to sit still or focus for long. Alastor had always chalked it up to normal childhood behavior, but Vox began to notice patterns. He mentioned his concerns one evening, tentatively, as they shared a rare moment of quiet after Niffty had gone to bed.

“She’s incredible,” Vox started, his voice careful. “But I think we should consider having her evaluated.” Alastor stiffened immediately. “Evaluated? For what? She’s fine.” “I’m not saying she isn’t,” Vox said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “I just think there might be something more going on. She gets distracted easily and has trouble staying on task—” “She’s four, Vox, going to be five,” Alastor snapped. “Of course, she’s distracted. She’s a kid.”

“It’s more than that,” Vox insisted, his voice still calm but firm. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with her. I just want to understand her better so we can help her thrive.” The argument lingered for days, with Alastor digging in her heels. She saw his concern as an attack on her parenting, an implication that she hadn’t done enough for her daughter. But Vox didn’t back down. Finally, it was his father who broke the stalemate.

Dr. Pierce, Vox’s father, was a pediatric psychologist with Thirty years of experience. Over dinner one evening, he gently broached the subject with Alastor. Unlike Vox, he didn’t approach it like a negotiation. Instead, he shared stories of children he’d worked with, their struggles and triumphs, and how early intervention had made all the difference. “She’s a bright, spirited little girl,” he said warmly. “If she does have ADHD, it’s not a flaw—it’s just part of who she is. And there are ways to help her channel that energy into something amazing.” Alastor sat silently for a long time after he spoke. She hated feeling like she was failing Niffty, but she also couldn’t deny the possibility that Vox and his father might be right. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she agreed to have Niffty evaluated.

The results confirmed what Vox had suspected: Niffty had ADHD. Alastor struggled with the news at first, battling guilt and self-doubt. Had she missed the signs? Had she been too stubborn to see what her daughter needed? Vox, to his credit, never said, I told you so. Instead, he focused on what they could do moving forward. Dr. Pierce offered to help teach them strategies for supporting Niffty, from creating structured routines to finding activities that let her burn off excess energy. Vox dove into the process with surprising enthusiasm, determined to understand and support her in every way possible.

“She’s not just your daughter anymore,” he told Alastor one night as they sat together reviewing what they’d learned. “She’s ours. And I’m going to do right by her.” Alastor’s chest tightened at his words. She still didn’t fully trust him—not yet—but she couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice. For better or worse, he was committed. Over time, Alastor found herself relying on Vox in ways she hadn’t expected. His determination to be there for them eased some of her burdens, allowing her to focus on being the mother her daughter needed. And while Vox still had his moments of clumsiness—like the time he accidentally spilled glitter glue all over Niffty’s favorite dress—his efforts didn’t go unnoticed.

Niffty, of course, remained blissfully unaware of the complexities swirling around her. For her, life was simple: she had a mommy who loved her, a daddy who made her laugh, and a family that was finally whole. And for the first time in years, Alastor allowed herself to believe that maybe, she had not failed at being a mother.

#alastorshippermonth #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #radiostatic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin vox #vox/alastor

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wolf-m-the-hybrid · 10 months ago

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I know that I haven’t done anything for my Cult Of The Lamb AU. That’s because I ran dry in the inspiration department and couldn’t figure out some of the main characters backstory’s. But with the new update coming very soon my inspiration sparked and I figured out the backstory for the 4 allies of the Red Crown! But if I make a comic for them I know that I’ll lose motivation. So I’ll just say their backstories in this post! Some of these are more than others. Maybe one day I’ll have the motivation to make comics for them. But for now, behold the tales of the 4 allies!

~~~

Meril

Meril was born on a pirate ship along with her twin sister Amelia. Their mother was the captain of their ship and a was known as the pirate queen. But it was just a title, they aren’t actually royalty.

As the twins grew up it became very clear how different Meril and her sister were. Amelia aced every pirate challenge she faced, ready to be next in line for captain. Could easily charm anyone for all of their money. As for Meril, she continued to fail again and again in the pirate challenges. She could never talk to anyone, always flustering and messing up her words.

But her mother never punished Meril for her mistakes. Instead trying to find a way to help Meril grow her confidence. Her mother’s love kept Meril hopeful… until it happened…

One stormy night, the waves were so high that the entire crew needed to work together to prevent them from going overboard. Meril and her mother were keeping the sails from unfolding. However in the storm, Meril saw something. A light in the sky one brilliant and bright. Before she realized it, Meril had let go of the rope making the sails unfurl. Her mother fell into the ocean, the waves took her under.

Amelia was in rage. In fact if Meril wasn’t family Amelia would have killed her right there. Instead Meril was banished from the ocean. If Meril ever steps foot in the ocean then Amelia will kill her. Meril was placed at the docks in Pilgrims Pass where the light house keeper took her in. She taught Meril their ways and had Meril as her apprentice.

Things were fine for a while. What was until the Red Beast took the light house keeper into the shadows. With no one else to lead Pilgrim’s Pass, everyone looked to Meril the apprentice. So without full training, Meril became the leader of Pilgrim’s Pass.

Sozo

Sozo was found as a baby near the Spore Grotto. He was found by the healer/leader of the Grotto, Florance or Flo for short. She took in Sozo and treated him like her own son. Flo taught Sozo how to mix certain ingredients to create medicine and how to lead their people. But Sozo still isn’t ready to lead the Spore Grotto yet.

But he doesn’t mind, more time on his side project. And what is it? Making mushrooms into bombs that cause different effects!

Plimbo

Many years ago, he was a pirate who stole from the rich and gave it to the poor. One day he decided to steal from the biggest treasure horde in the world, Kallamar’s treasury. Plimbo and his crew managed to steal the treasure, however they failed to escape Anchordeep. Kallamar sunk their ship and took his riches back.

Before Plimbo fell into the waters of Anchordeep, he vowed vengeance on Kallamar for his greed. His soul never passed on, instead it’s still deep in Anchordeep’s waters. Pulling followers of Kallamar to their doom. But Plimbo’s souls will never rest until the greedy, cowardly bishop falls.

Midas

Midas was once a traveler who explored the world. His travels brought him to the Land of the Old Faith where he met Chemach, long before she was chained. She offers Midas a place to rest his feet after his long journey. Midas was a little nervous at first but calmed down when given a drink. But he can’t remember what else happened that day. He woke up alone, his chest in pain and strange yellow markings on his skin.

A passing explorer found Midas struggling to stand up and went to help him. But when they touched hands the explorer turned into gold. Midas panicked and ran away, turning monsters into gold as he continued to run. Once he found a safe place, Midas tried to remember what happened, but couldn’t. He couldn’t understand what was happening, why he could turn beings into gold.

As time went on he found out that he didn’t need to eat or drink, he couldn’t age, and continued to hide from everyone or everything that came by. That was until Ratau found him. The previous bearer of the Red Crown found Midas but didn’t attack. Instead Ratau offered to help Midas figure out what was happening to him. With his kindness, Midas figured out how to not only control his powers but figure out what happened. Chemach had inserted a relic inside of Midas that caused him his powers.

After the cult disbanded Midas continued to follow the ways of the Red Crown. It had taken him in and helped teach him how to control his powers. He will be forever grateful and loyal to the Red Crown. So Midas decided to make a cave full of treasure to be used for any Red Crown bearer. He kept it hidden inside a cave away from the prying eyes of the bishops. Midas takes in lost travelers to help them recover, but turns any followers of the bishops into gold.

~~~

And there you go!!! I want to do some redesigns again soon but not now. Anyway I hope you guys like what else I have planned for my AU! Have a good day or night!

#cult of the lamb #rainbow crowns #cult of the lamb au #the hybrid speaks

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bi-naesala · 2 years ago

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I love…

(Written for @p3akishinjiweek day 5: Regret/Repressed Feelings | Mourning/Survivor's Guilt)

5 + 1 things, Repressed feelings, Angst, Trans Akihiko Sanada, Canon compliant, Major character death, Canonical character death

Five times Akihiko almost says he loves Shinjiro, and one time he's finally able to do it.

(AO3 link)

(Fic under the cut)

The girl likes Shinji. He’s kind, especially to her and Miki.

Even when they fight, he would extend his hand, a smile on his face, and he would ask her to make peace and be friends again.

He doesn’t care that she’s a tomboy; he even helps to cut her hair when the caretaker refuses to do it – because girls are supposed to keep their hair long, or something stupid like that.

She loves him dearly – he’s her best friend, how could she not? – but… she can’t tell him.

Maybe there’s something about the words, or it’s just Shinji being a dummy, but Miki told him she loved him once, and he got so flustered that he avoided her for two days, and even after she cornered him and told him to stop doing that, it took a while for him to stop blushing in her mere presence.

If she says she loves him, he’s going to do the same thing, and she doesn’t want that! If Shinji started to avoid her… she’d be sad! She’d cry even!

Just because she can’t say she loves him with words, it doesn’t mean she can’t say it with actions, however!

That’s why she always takes his side when he fights with the other kids, or why she covers for him when he brings in a stray cat, despite knowing how much in trouble they’ll get if they’re found out. That’s why she challenges him with stupid stuff, because it always makes him laugh when she does, and he never says no to her.

She loves it when he smiles, she loves it when he pats her head, she loves it when he’s there for Miki, treating her like a sister… She just loves him, but she can’t say it.

She hopes he will understand anyway.

The girl isn’t a girl anymore.

That part, Akihiko thinks, died with Miki.

Something else died with her, he muses as he watches Shinji trying – and failing – to make him stop crying. His smile isn’t as bright as it used to be; actually, he barely smiles at all these days.

“C’mon, Aki, it’s not the end of the world!” he says, but for Akihiko, it sure feels like it.

Being adopted, now, feels hollow. What’s the point of it, when Miki’s dead? What’s the point of it, when Shinji will be left behind? The same Shinji who’s been keeping wiping away his tears, no matter how much Akihiko continues crying.

He’s so strong. He’ll never be like him.

I love you.

Again, those words find their way inside his head.

He wants to tell him, but wouldn’t it be sad to do it now that he’s leaving?

Of course, this won’t be the last time they see each other, he’ll make sure of it, but… it feels like the end of an era. No more Aki and Shinji, joined at the hip, but Akihiko, living with the Sanadas, and Shinji, still stuck at the orphanage, alone.

“I’ll miss you,” he sniffles, because that’s true too.

“I’ll miss you too, dummy,” Shinji replies, giving Akihiko the best smile he can manage. It’s not much, but he appreciates the gesture. “But we’ll see each other again. Remember our promise?”

How could he forget it? It’s the promise they made to each other after Miki died: they’re going to become so strong they’ll never lose anyone ever again. Nothing will hurt them anymore.

He may not be able to say that he loves him, but he can maintain his promise.

In a way, that counts as the same thing.

Akihiko’s jaw still hurts – Shinji has a mean right hook, he has to admit it – but that doesn’t stop him from searching for him, even if that means they might come to blows again.

He refuses to leave him alone to fend for himself, no matter how much he might deserve it for being such a dumbass.

He can’t… He can’t leave him. Even if Shinji beats him up again, even if he’ll hate him for it, he can’t leave him alone.

Finding him is easier than Akihiko thought, maybe because his steps have subconsciously taken him to the one place he knows Shinji still continues to frequent: Hagakure.

When Akihiko arrives, he finds him about to step inside, but he freezes once he sees him.

“Aki… What are you doing here?” he asks, a veiled threat in his voice. It’s not enough to intimidate Akihiko, however – he’ll have to try harder than that if he truly wants to scare him away.

Akihiko swallows. Sure, Shinji going all bad boy on him might not faze him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not nervous at all.

“I came to see you,” he replies, trying to sound as neutral as possible – he’s not here to start a fight, nor to make Shinji run away.

“And you’re cutting class to do that?” the other counters, raising an eyebrow at him. Despite the sarcasm in his voice he also sounds… impressed?

“What about it?” Akihiko asks, defensive. Why would Shinji care about skipping classes? He used to do that all the time, and now he doesn’t even attend anymore!

They’re at a standstill, neither of them backing off.

The atmosphere grows tenser and tenser… until Shinjiro sighs.

“Ok, fine. Since you came all the way an’ all…” he mutters, before stepping inside Hagakure.

Akihiko takes only a second to recover from the shock – he thought he’d put more of a fight than that – before following him.

“Thanks for the meal,” Shinjiro says, before starting digging into his plate. Akihiko remains silent.

Since taking a seat and ordering, they haven’t spoken to each other, which wasn’t anything unusual before, but now, with everything that has happened, it has different connotations.

Akihiko wants to break the silence, but words freeze in his throat before he can get them out. What is he even supposed to say? He came here with the intention of convincing Shinji to return to the dorm – he can’t really think to live on the street forever? – but now that he’s actually here, he doesn’t know where to begin.

At least he doesn’t look too bad, all things considered. There’s a gray splotch on his jaw – must have had a scuffle with someone – but otherwise he looks unharmed, which is extremely good. Akihiko won’t deny that he’s lost sleep thinking about the dangers he’ll be forced to face now.

He still hasn’t begun eating, too busy staring at Shinjiro to do that. Unfortunately for him, however, it doesn’t go unnoticed, which gets him an elbow to the side from Shinji.

“What’s your problem? Eat before it gets cold.”

“R-Right, sorry,” Akihiko mutters, suddenly flustered; he hadn’t meant to stare, and especially he hadn’t meant to be caught like this. Shinji’s right, though: he should eat. No point in not doing that – it would be a waste of delicious food.

… Good as always! Not that he had any doubt about it, of course – there is a reason why they always come back here, after all.

“So, huh, how’s it going?”

Shinjiro rolls his eyes. “Really, Aki? That’s one weak opening.”

“What? Can’t I want to know how my best friend is doing in his self-imposed exile?”

“Self-impos—do you even fucking hear yourself? You’re being so dramatic…”

Skipping through the pleasantries altogether and going directly to the arguing part. This has to be a new record even for them.

Oh well, since Shinji clearly doesn’t want to fool around, neither will Akihiko: he grabs him by the jaw, making sure to press his thumb against the bruise he’s seen before, making him hiss from the pain.

“Am I? You’re already getting hurt and you say I’m dramatic.”

Shinjiro swats his hand away.

“It was one fight, Aki, one, and I won, by the way,” he retorts. He looks about to add something, but he stops as he takes a look around them: people are staring, including the patron.

Akihiko sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. Yeah, they shouldn’t be causing a scene here of all places, so he’ll drop it for now, but that doesn’t mean Shinji’s off the hook! They will get back to this, he’ll make sure of it…

… And so he does, as soon as they step outside.

Shinjiro is obviously trying to outrun him without making it too obvious, taking long quick strides with his legs, not event glancing at Akihiko, but he keeps up, even if he has to run a bit to do that.

“I don’t care if you win all the fights you get into. If you were still with us, you wouldn’t need to be getting into them in the first place.” Not that there wouldn’t be any fighting at all, considering what they do, but at least he’d have Mitsuru and him to back him up; what does he think he’s going to accomplish on his own?

At those words, Shinjiro laughs, but he sounds strained, bitter.

“Why would I ever want to come back? You saw what happened! If I keep fighting, it’s bound to happen again.”

Because I love you, Akihiko wants to reply, because he can’t bear being apart from him, but he holds his tongue. He doesn’t want to ruin everything by saying the wrong thing, not when it comes to something so important.

“So? Are you just going to run away forever? I didn’t take you for a coward, Shinji.”

Turns out, that was the wrong thing as well: Shinjiro swings, immediately, hitting him right on the nose. He hits back just as strong, knocking him to the ground.

It soon escalates to a full-out brawl, even if they know that’ll get them in trouble, but they can’t stop.

Even if Akihiko had said that he loves him, instead of taking shots at him, he doesn’t think Shinji would’ve believe his words anyway – he would probably think it’s just a trick to get him to come back and nothing more.

Maybe he can beat the notion into him with the right amount of effort; after all, fists have always spoken louder than words for them.

Shinji’s back, Akihiko can’t believe it.

He was starting to believe getting him back was impossible, but look at him now!

He still doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that it took Amada’s presence to convince him, however. It doesn’t exactly paint a nice picture, but at least now it’ll be easier to keep an eye on him, and that’s all that matters.

Shinji is truly back. He’s not dreaming – he still pinches his arm, just to make sure.

He looks… well, overwhelmed, at the moment: as soon as he’s taken his first step inside the dorm, he’s been corned by the juniors, who all seem very curious – but also cautious – about him. Not that he can blame them; for his part, he’s told them very little about him, mostly because there are some things that aren’t for him to divulge, but also because… it’s their history, theirs and theirs alone. Akihiko doesn’t want to necessarily share it with anyone who isn’t Shinji.

It’s that same, selfish feeling that pushes him to take him aside, with the excuses of “seniors needing to catch up”, which isn’t entirely wrong, especially since Mitsuru joins them – she has much to say to Shinjiro too.

With just the three of them on the second floor, right outside Shinji’s new – well, old – room, it feels like no time has passed at all, except it has and it shows. Still, no arguments have exploded yet, so it can’t be too bad.

He’s too caught up in his head that he barely notices what’s going on around him, namely that Mitsuru has left to tend to other matters, and that he’s alone with Shinji, who has to shake his shoulder to get him to focus back on the present.

“What?”

Good job, Akihiko, being caught staring like that – why does it feel so familiar? Has it happened already?

He shakes his head.

“Sorry, I…”

I just love you.

He could tell him, finally be honest about his feelings, but…

“Nothing, I missed you,” is what he goes with.

From the look Shinji sends his way, it’s obvious he doesn’t buy it, but he also doesn’t say anything about it, to which Akihiko is grateful. “Huh, yeah… Missed you too.”

It might be too much for now, he decides, if he were to suddenly declare his feelings out loud, considering that Shinji’s just made it back and he’s already had to deal with everyone else bothering him. He doesn’t want to add onto the weight by any means – this time, he doesn’t want to make any wrong move.

He fears that he might make him run away again, he’s scared of… well, he’s just scared in general. What if Shinji doesn’t return his feelings? What if he thinks he’s joking? What if… Ugh, better not think about it.

He’s spent so much time keeping his love inside, that he doesn’t mind doing it for a little longer.

He’ll get another chance to tell him, once he’s found the courage to do so. They have time, after all.

This can’t be happening.

This… this has to be a nightmare, something that Akihiko will wake up from at any moment.

He holds Shinji tight, as he watches him slowly losing consciousness, impotent to do anything to change it.

Can this really be happening? It can’t… It can’t…

It’s with immense effort that Shinjiro stretches a hand towards him.

“Aki, take care of him…” he mutters with the last of his strength, gaze unfocused but determined. He’s talking about Ken.

What else is Akihiko supposed to do, if not squeeze his hand, as if that gesture alone could be enough to keep him alive, and promise something he doesn’t know he can actually do?

“I will.”

Shinji’s dying.

What’s worse, he’s smiling, for fuck’s sake! Like this is a good thing!

Shinji’s dying.

He’s dying, he’s dying, he’s dying…

Damn it!

Can’t they really do anything?!

“This is how it should be.”

It’s not. It absolutely is not!

Akihiko wants to tell him, and he wants to tell him that he’s loves him, that he’s always loved him, but he knows that, if he opens his mouth, he’ll just start crying, and he doesn’t want that to be the last thing Shinji sees before…

Why him? Why them?

Why?

He should finally be honest with him during his final moment, but his lips are sealed.

All he can do is squeeze Shinji’s body in his arms, hold him tight while hoping – praying – for a miracle to happen, for something to save him despite all odds, but nothing happens, no help comes, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

His best friend his dying, and he can’t even tell him he loves him.

+ 1

Shinji’s shrine.

How long as it been since Akihiko has last visited it? Too long.

Even something as simple as stepping foot into the cemetery has been hard for him, because every time he’s tried, his stomach would start to turn, bile rising, and he’d start to feel like vomiting.

When he started to feel like this when he was in the presence of the rest of SEES too, he knew he needed to leave, to put as much distance between him and them as he could. He needed to be alone.

He wonders, just like he’s done already countless times, if this is how Shinji felt too, when he left the first time.

And to think he used to scold him for running away, only to do the same thing as soon as he could.

He’s an absolute disgrace, isn’t he? If Shinji were there, he would so beat the shit out him – and he’d deserve it.

He’s done with that now, though.

No more running away.

“H-Hey, Shinji.”

Okay, he’s stuttering only a little, so far so good. C’mon, Akihiko, you can do this.

“I’m…”

Nothing else comes out.

No, this isn’t how this is supposed to go!

Akihiko lets out a long sigh, before trying again. His hands are shaking.

“I’m sorry, for… Well, everything.” He couldn’t even keep the promise he made to his dying best friend.

Everything in his head is screaming at him to run away, but he keeps his feet planted to the ground. He said no more running, and he intends on keeping it that way.

“I don’t even know what to say in my defense. I really fucked up, haven’t I?”

He chuckles weakly. Despite being alone, he feels like he’s being watched. It’s not the first time it happens; actually, it’s a quite frequent event.

“But… I think it’s better, now. I think I’m better,” he continues, pushing through the uneasiness. “And I’m going to show you that I’ve grown.”

Silence.

Only silence meets his words.

Nothing more.

It’s through gritted teeth that Akihiko keeps talking. He has to push it out, or else he’ll explode.

“I miss you, Shinji. I miss you so much, I…”

He can’t say it, not in front of his shrine. No no no no no, he can’t… He just can’t! What’s even the point now—

Aki

… What?

Did somebody call him?

Akihiko looks around, but there’s nobody else beside him.

Strange, it sounded like…

Aki let go

Let go? Tsk, that’s easy to say!

Though, doesn’t Shinji deserve to know, by now? Shouldn’t Akihiko be able to admit it, after so much time?

He takes a deep breath.

“I…”

No turning back now.

“I love you, Shinji. Always have, always will.”

There.

He’s just admitted that he loves him.

For the first time in his life, he’s managed to actually say it.

Why does it feel like he’s run a marathon all of a sudden? He swears, he feels so lightheaded, like he’s just finished a very intense workout.

“I love you.”

Akihiko does his best to ignore it.

“I love you.”

Now that he’s said it the first time, it’s like the floodgates have opened and can’t be closed any time soon. He can’t stop himself.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

He collapses to his knees, tears streaming down his face – he barely notices them – as he keeps saying “I love you” until his throat starts to hurt, letting out everything that he’s been holding inside for such a long time.

Finally, he’s been able to say that he loves Shinji.

Unfortunately for him, however, that doesn’t change anything.

#P3akishinjiweek #akishinji #akihiko sanada #shinjiro aragaki #persona 3 #p3 #persona #my fics #mine #some trans akihiko propaganda because trans akihiko is good

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