#which I’m sure Hazel would love

[applesandpavenders]

Someone needs to write a feminist retelling of Watership Down, but it’s Hyzenthlay and her gang trying to get out of Efrefa.

In the book it mentions that she tried to get permission to leave the warren and start a new one somewhere else, but is denied. You could totally write that and all the backstory leading up to when the Watership Down crew turn up, and then everything that happens then but from the perspective of the does.

I think this is an untapped resource! You don’t need to turn Strawberry into a girl, or Clover into this wonderdoe *side eyes the bbc mini series* you just have to work with the original cannon. Because Hyzenthlay is AWESOME. And there’s so much room for a commentary on female rights and society when it comes to how Efrefa is run vs Watership Down.

[aweina]

౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter

Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught

Part 2 // Part 3

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.

It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.

This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.

He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.

Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.

It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”

“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.

Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.

James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”

Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.

The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.

“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”

“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.

James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.

Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.

“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”

Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.

“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.

Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.

“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.

They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.

James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“So what did you think-”

James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.

Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.

Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.

As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.

However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.

Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.

You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.

He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.

“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.

You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.

James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.

You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.

As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.

His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.

As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.

Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.

James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 

“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.

His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.

“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.

James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.

James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”

[reiding-writing]

Hey Red! I really enjoyed all of your writings especially because I am also a sucker for angst and hurt/comfort fic. Anyway, can I request fic about post-prison Spencer x reader (romantic) where the reader is the one who distanced herself from Spencer because after the first time Spencer released from prison, he doesn't want to touch anyone? Bet he'll be so heartbroken and thinking that she's over their relationship. Thank you! Sorry if it's too specific ❤️

distance [ s.r ]

Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions

WARNINGS: miscommunication, established relationship

pairing: post-prison!spencer x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending

wc: 1.6k

masterlist!!

a/n: gave this one a happy ending as an apology for transgression-

You waited for 84 days to see him again; And yet now he’s stood here in front of you you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him.

He’s thinner than you remember. His cheekbones show more prominently. He has stubble lining his chin. His hair is more unruly. His eyes don’t shine anymore.

Spencer changed in those 84 days, and the second you caught his eyes a hairline fracture formed in your heart.

Gone was the Spencer who would light up at the most insignificant thing. Gone was the Spencer who would look at you with those sweet innocent eyes that would make you weak at the knees. Gone was the Spencer who would link his pinky finger in yours so that he could anchor himself to you no matter where you were.

Gone was the Spencer you knew.

Your Spencer didn’t exist anymore.

You watched as he swerved a hug from Morgan as he entered the office, clasping both of his hands behind his back with an awkward smile as he walked through the bullpen towards you were standing in front of his desk, eerily resembling the 23 year old Spencer who avoided everyone like they had the plague.

“Hey Spence…” Your voice is a lot more breathless than you thought it’d be, only amplified as you look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that you’d dreamed about being able to look into again for the past three months. “..How are you?”

It’s a completely unnecessary question Spencer thinks, it makes it sound like you’re just his co-worker and not the love of his life.

“I’m alright…” His eyebrows twitch when you take a few steps away from his desk as he nears you, like you can’t bear to be too close.

Then again, he probably looks like hell, so he can’t entirely blame you.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“That’s good,” You press your lips into a line, nodding softly with your eyes flickering everywhere except his face. He’d been gone for 84 days, but you were treating him like you’d never met.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee-” You point lamely towards the kitchenette with your thumb, sliding past him to walk towards it as he watched you leave, eyes burning into the back of your head.

It was a weird feeling to say the least. You were ecstatic that he was home, that you could finally see his beautiful face again and know that he wasn’t suffering in a prison cell. But you weren’t sure how to express that. Whether you should express that.

You fumble with the coffee machine as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Everything about Spencer’s body language when he entered the office told you he wanted space, and you wanted to respect that.

You understood that he’d definitely been through a lot over the past few months and that he wanted time to collect himself before he let anybody else back in; But the way he looked at you when you moved away from him made you unsure. Did he want to be left alone? Did he actually want you to suffocate him with a hug like you were originally planning on doing?

You weren’t sure. And that was the worst part, because depending on which option you chose you could unintentionally swerve things into being worse than they already were.

You chose the safe option. Let him come to you. Leave him be and allow him to choose what he wanted.

He didn’t approach you for a few days, and you figured that meant your decision was correct, that he truly did just want some space to gain his bearings again and allow himself the downtime to focus on himself before anyone else.

You were wrong.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Spencer caught you right as you left the office, stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevator with an exhausted expression on your face after working for almost 10 straight hours.

You do nothing more than blink in his direction at his question, exhaustion morphing into confusion once your eyes catch him expression.

You could see his own tiredness echoed through the bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped at his sides, but you could also see a flicker of hurt floating around in his gaze, seemingly amplified under the white florescents as if to torture you.

“I’m- not avoiding you Spencer,”

“Yes you are.” His tone is rigid, a stark difference from the soft and whispered tone you’d grown used to with him. It felt like having a bucket of ice water poured over your head, and as if to physically acknowledge that feeling, a shudder ran its way up your spine and into the base of your skull. “Every time I’m within ten feet of you, you make an excuse to leave.”

You can’t really argue with him there. You had been keeping your distance. But only because you thought that’s what Spencer wanted.

“Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Am I too broken for you now?”

“What- No-” Your confusion turns into shock at his accusations, and you immediately shake your head in denial.

“Then why are you treating me like a stranger you’ve never met?” His tone borders between angry and upset, and you can see the start of tears forming in his eyes as he stares at you like you’d just ripped up a first-edition copy of his favourite book.

“I waited for the day i’d finally be able to see you again and now you’re acting like I never existed in your mind at all.” You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to stop it from cracking under his emotions.

“Spence-”

“Have you moved on? You found someone better for you right?”

“Spencer-”

“I hope he makes you happy-”

He barely has time to get out the last sentence as you give a sharp tug on his tie and pull his face down to yours, effectively silencing all of his insecurities with a kiss. It’s soft but firm, and slightly salty. He must’ve started crying.

“I love you Spencer.” Your words hold no room for debate as your lips part from his, connection maintained through the way your foreheads press together.

“But you- Why did you- I thought…” His mind seems to run a thousand miles a minute as he stares at you, finally close enough to see the details of your face that nobody else had the privilege to know. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”

“Spence…” You shake your head as it rests against his, a firm denial of his doubt in your complete and utter adoration of him.

“But you kept moving away from me whenever i’d try to come over to you,” He speaks through stuttered breaths, his eyes squeezed shut to hopefully stop the tears that assault his cheeks, running hot down his skin and pooling underneath the curve of his chin.

“I just thought you wanted space baby,” Your thumbs move deftly over his cheeks, wiping away the streaks of tears and taking Spencer’s insecurity with them. “I saw you dodging everyone’s advances and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,”

“I don’t want space from you,” When he opens his eyes again, they’re big, round, and still glistening with the moisture of his tears. But most of all they’re filled with nothing but pure affection for you. “I never want space from you…”

You sure that if you keep eye contact with him for much longer that you’ll start crying yourself, so you redirect his head to lie against your shoulder as you wrap your arms tight around his torso.

“I missed you…” His voice is so quiet that if you weren’t holding him in your arms you wouldn’t have heard it.

“I missed you too Spence,” Your head rests against his, you hand rubbing soft lines up and down his spine over his shirt as he soaks in all the affection he’s missed over the last three months.

“Can I stay at yours tonight? Please?” His gaze is enough of a ‘please’ in itself, but the way his voice drops to almost a whisper when he adds the plea onto the end of his question makes it impossible for you to deny him. Although it’s not like you were going to in the first place.

“Of course you can Spence,” You place a kiss to his left temple as you carefully break the hug, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the elevator. “Lets go home,”

[spliffymae]

forgotten connie drabble (18+ mdni)

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

“SURPRISE!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!”

you moved to the side once you were inside, coming in behind the man of the hour himself. sasha had been running rampant to throw him an amazing surprise party. and you were in on it, tasked with bringing connie home from work and acting as if you know nothing about what the current day was.

which proved to be hard the second connie got into your car after putting his bag in the back seat. “ahh shit! they got mi cielita to take me out. where we going, mami?” connie was grinning ear to ear as he looked at you, dimples popping below red freckled cheeks.

he was so cute, and you were gonna hate to do this but, “what’re you on about, springer?” you scrunched your face up in confusion at him. you then quickly looked ahead to pull out the parking lot. if you looked at him for too long you were sure you’d crack.

connie rolled his eyes, not buying your ignorance. “oh stop that, y’know what i’m talking bout.” he said as he buckled himself in and then reclined the passenger seat.

with the strongest will you could muster, you kept up the confusion, looking back at him and with a quirked brow, “you got a game or sum?” you asked, knowing damn well he had nothing going on today. his birthday happened to land on the off day for ball practice AND track practice, not to mention he didn’t have class either.

now, when sasha told you to act like you forgot that his birthday was today, she failed to mention to you that it was something connie’s mother had done plenty of times in his life…not as a joke, though.

connie really cared about four women in his life: you, sasha, his little sister, and his mom. so you forgetting his day took a pin to his bubble and popped the fuck out of it. he didn’t dwell on the subject anymore, changing to now talk about your days. however, connie was feeling down on the inside. all his friends had wished him a happy birthday either via call, text, or social media post. have you not been on your phone today?

when you pulled up to his and sasha’s shared apartment, you flashed him a smile but it was not reciprocated. connie was staring ahead, zoned out in thought. so much so he doesn’t feel you turn the car off or hear you call his name.

“con” you pushed his shoulder slightly, getting him to snap out of his own head.

“hm?”

“we’re at your place. is it cool if i come up to use the bathroom?” you usually wouldn’t say anything and invite yourself into his apartment. days when you’d get him we’re days you set aside to hang with him. but today seems to be different. connie wondered if you had made plans that made you forget about his birthday.

“uh yeah, sure.” he said lowly. he reached back to grab his backpack and with that, got out the car. you could see the defeat in his walk towards the doors. he was mumbling to himself, more times trying to dissect what the hell was going on with you. because you wouldn’t just forget, right?

you got out the car and sped walk to catch up, sending sasha a quick text to let her know yall were back. you also cussed her for telling you to do this to connie, knowing how pouty he gets.

the walk to the elevator was quite, along with you two getting off at his floor and going to his apartment. however, before connie turned the key he put into the lock, he turned to you. his eyes were glossed over and cheeks dusted with a crimson red. he was chewing on his bottom lip, hazel eyes filled with worry. “did i do something, mami? you mad at me?”

and oh my god you wanted to break the act right there…but you were RIGHT THERE.

you blinked, “what do you mean, con? why would i be?” you wanted him to just open the door. once he opened the door you could drop the act, you could give him all the birthday love you were holding in since midnight.

connie let out a sigh and turned back around, giving up on the matter and turning the lock to go in. the day was no longer felt good. what good was a birthday if the one person he wanted to spend it with forgot about it?

when the door opened, connie walked inside and turned on the light and was immediately met with screams, cheers, and camera lights in his face.

which brings us here, to where he freezes and looks around at his friends from his basketball team, work, childhood, and sasha standing in the middle with a cake.

connie spent a good couple seconds taking everything in, he was slightly embarrassed to say once he believed you had forgotten he immediately forgot the day, choosing to just wallow in his room as he smoked a spliff.

you took a step forward, hands behind your back and coming up on his right. “happy birthday, connie.” you bumped him with your hip, once again snapping him out of his own head and bringing him back to the present.

the big, toothy smile he had in your car came back, now decorated with deep dimples and eyes watery with tears of appreciation.

just as he was about to say something to you, jean pulled him away, leaving you two with an unfinished conversation.

•　　.°•

you were talking to sasha in the kitchen as connie was socializing with all his guests. he hadn’t had the chance to come back to you just yet, but you weren’t worried. you didn’t plan on going anywhere.

“i told you! he’s so brain dead when it comes to you that he’ll completely forget everything. did you see how lost he looked when he saw us?” sasha was so happy that her plan had turned out well. she knew her best friend well enough to know it wasn’t going to take a lot to get his mind off his literal day of birth. not when you were the one thing that stayed on his mind and could pull his attention from anything.

you playfully rolled your eyes, “i still hated seeing how sad he looked. why didn’t you tell me i was damn near triggering him?!” you were nursing your second cup of a mimosa, slightly tipsy.

sasha giggled. she, on the other hand, had been four shots in from when you guys came in. “i forgot. but it’s all good now. oop—here he comes.” before you knew it, sasha had stepped away and now connie was in your space.

his eyes were low and bloodshot, having just come back from a hotbox with his guys in the car. “mami, you really are sum special.” he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to be flush against him.

you smiled, “sasha made me, pa. you know i would never forget your day.” you traced his lips with your finger, your acrylic nail going along his prominent cupids bow. connie held your hand still and kissed your finger, then moved your hand so it was at the back of his head. it brought you closer into his space, his cologne taking over your senses. he loweeeed his head to touch yours, looking in your eyes.

“¿dónde está mi regalo, princesa? his hands trailed up from your waist to your back, to your elbow and then shoulder. he tucked one of your locs behind your ear, staring at you as if you held both the moon and the stars. “i been dying to unwrap it” his eyes were scanning all over your face, taunting you with his hidden meaning.

“quiero mi pastel, ma. soy hambriento.” he undid the button with ease, bringing you to gasp and instinctively grip the small curls on the back of his neck.

“later.” you said softly, giving him a sweet smile to match. but connie smirked with wickedness, red eyes gleaming of mischief. his hand trailed back down to the waistband of your baggy pants.

“c-con.” you could feel his long and slender fingers pad over your core. he pressed his index and his middle against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. “this party’s for you.” you bit your lip when you felt him move them in a circular motion, the wetness of your pussy dampening your panties.

“it’s my birthday, right? i can do whatever i want, right?” you were gonna answer, but then he pushed your panties to the side. he had rubbed your lips to collect your slick on his fingers, and slowly began to push them inside of you. your mouth opened, but no words came out.

“oh princesa, did you forget how to talk? just like how you forgot papi’s birthday?” he tsked, shaking his head, “made me so sad. y’know” the force of his thrusts picked up, knocking you back to grip the edge of the counter behind up. “a mean joke you guys pulled on me.”

“pa…i-i can’t be quiet” you panicked, looking at connie with worrisome eyes. he knew you were a screamer, fuck it was what he loved about you. pleasure would overwhelm you quick and all your composure would go flying out the window. you got animalistic when you’d approach your peak, and connie never missed the chance to see it. but today, you were doing your best to show restraint the clench of your jaw let him know you really wanted to get it out but were resisting.

connie took his other hand to rub a thumb on your clit, turning his ears off to anything that wasn’t your faulty breaths or straggled moans. “hm…guess i forgot.”

[ellievickstar]

Bloodied Bonds

A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)

Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There they were again.

Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.

Now, you were not so sure.

“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.

“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.

Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.

“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.

You were dying.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.

“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.

Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.

Cassian had sworn to protect you.

And now, against a disease he felt helpless.

“Is there a cure?” He asked.

“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”

“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”

You nod.

“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.

You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.

“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”

Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.

You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.

And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.

“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”

Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.

“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”

“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.

So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.

“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.

Crying meant that you were weak.

And you hated being weak.

That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”

Rhysand shot a look at him.

“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”

“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.

“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.

Mates.

A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.

But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.

However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.

And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.

One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.

And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.

“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”

Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.

Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.

And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.

Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.

Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.

And in those two days Azriel did not come.

It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.

It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.

“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.

“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.

“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”

“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”

Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?

Where was his mate?

Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?

That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.

“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.

“That was not just tea.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”

A beat passed.

“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”

Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.

“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.

“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Part 2 here!!

Love, Ellie.

[milswrites]

The bonds that tie us

~Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Azriel accept the mating bond.

Warnings: Smut! 18+ MNDI, p in v

Azriel’s golden eyes stayed locked on yours. His intense gaze piercing your own until you could feel his searching presence in your very soul. Each heavy breath which escaped from his lips sent delightful tingles down your spine.

The sweet scent of his growing arousal permeated the air, causing you to slightly shift in your seat at the anticipation of the events to come.

“So?” You ask impatiently, tearing your eyes away from Azriel to look to the chocolate cake sitting in the middle of the table.

The cake which you had spent the past few hours baking. Pouring your love into the mixture as you did so, making sure everything was perfect for your mate.

It was a masterpiece. Your proudest work. And yet the shadowsinger never spared it a glance, not even as he entered the room. Instead he had walked in, burning gaze never failing to leave you as he sat down in the chair opposite. Failing to give you any other reaction except his heady scent of want which filled the room intoxicatingly.

He gulped deeply at the sound of your voice, finally moving his hazel eyes to the food before him. Face drawn black as he allowed the realisation of what this meant to settle deep into the marrow his bones.

“It’s for me?” He asked, voice thick with tension as he took in the cake before him, his eyes briefly closing as he inhaled the delectable smell of the fresh sponge.

“Yes Az” you replied, lips stretching into a smile as you watched the trace of glee wash over his expression. You pressed your thighs together, searching for some relief as you noted the darkness which crept into his passionate stare.

“This is what you want?” Azriel questions, the low rumble of his voice reverberated through your chest, tugging lightly on the taught strings of your heart.

“It is,” you confirmed, leaning your torso forward to enable you to reach the cake in order to cut the male a slice, “And you? Is this what you want?”

“Unquestionably” he replied, watching the way you delicately sliced through the layers of the cake before placing it on the plate before him. Settling back into your seat as your expectant eyes fell onto him.

But instead of eating, he began to speak. Forcing himself to say what had to be said before he’s too consumed by his feral need to devour you whole.

“I spent five hundred years waiting for you” he started, slowly running his tongue along his lips to wet them as he thought of exactly what he wanted to say, “And I would have waited five hundred more if it meant I got to be with you at the end of it.”

Your eyes began to water at the truth which laced his words, his honest eyes coming to meet your own.

“I always thought you were too good for me. The horrors of my past, the grim nature of my job. I couldn’t see how I could deserve you.”

He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. You allowed him to assemble his words in silence, your time to speak would come. This confession he needed to get off his chest alone.

“You are my other half, my soul belongs to you. I see that now. And I’m ready for it, I am. I do deserve you, and I will spend the rest of my life knowing that. You are my mate. And the stars will sing our song forever.”

Azriel made no move towards the cake. So you took this as a sign that it was your turn to speak.

“I love you Azriel. I have for a long time, and not just because the cauldron intended for it to be so. My heart is yours to keep, and for as long as I shall live my love for you will know no bounds nor have any limits. I’m yours Az, I always have been.”

A rough growl broke from his lips at your final statement, his sharp jaw locking into place as he resisted the urge to jump on you then and there, cake be damned.

His fiery gaze remained on you as he lifted the sweet cake to his lips and began to eat. His chest heaving with the effort it was taking to finish the entire slice, the outpour of desire which flooded into his system was almost too unbearable to deny.

Finally he put the last remnants of the cake into his mouth, taking the time to deliciously lick the rich chocolate from his long fingers. Amber gaze still unwavering.

The atmosphere was electric. The overwhelming scent of your joint arousal was becoming too difficult to ignore and so you allowed your instincts to take control. Leading you from the rickety wooden chair across the room, until you were stood between the open legs of your lover. Of your mate.

His tender hands came to rest at your waist, the heat of their teasing touch burning and you had to resist the urge to hiss at their devastating presence. Lowering your face until your lips tantalisingly brushed against his own, you plucked on the newfound bond which had settled in your chest as you finally spoke to him through the golden thread.

My gorgeous, handsome mate.

Azriel closed the gap between you, sealing his soft lips against yours as they danced together in a passionate embrace. His rough hands tugging you towards him until you were comfortably sat in his lap, your legs splayed open on either side of his firm thighs.

It was as though you were a feral beast chasing after its prey. Devouring your mates lips as your tongues entwined, teeth occasionally clashing together at the messy intensity of the kiss.

Your control had vanished, leaving no trace behind until all that remained was your profound need to take Azriel in every possible way that you could.

Your desperate hands tugged wildly at his clothes, begging the male to remove them. The overpowering need to feel his bare skin on yours was blinding.

Understanding your needs Azriel briefly broke the kiss, allowing you to pull his constricting shirt from his body, uncaring as you tossed it across the room before connecting your lips against him once more.

Able to now feel the soft warmth of his bare skin, you raked your nails along his abdomen, drawing a long deep moan from his throat. His eyes squeezed together tightly as though in pain, as though your teasing touches weren’t enough to satisfy him.

He needed more.

Azriel wanting to feel your enthralling heat wrapped around his cock as he pounded into you. Each deep thrust signalling his claim over you. Over his mate.

And so in his need and impatience, the male stood. Holding you tightly in his strong arms as he made his way to the bedroom, lips never once straying from your own.

Entering the room he softly laid you upon the silken sheets, stripping you of your clothes as his sultry gaze was finally able to look upon your naked form.

His scarred hands having a mind of their own as they travelled the expanse of your skin, drawing sinful sounds from your lips as he lightly traced your nipples before connecting his mouth to your breasts.

Taking turns in worshipping each one, leaving purple pebbles in his wake as he gently bit and sucked at the tender skin, before trailing up your body to show the same love to the sensitive skin of your neck.

All the while your hips bucked up against his own in desperation, your aching core pulsating with its need for relief.

Ever the attentive lover, Azriel slipped his hand down the contours of your body until his skilled fingers met the area where you were most sensitive. His long fingers lazily tracing circles onto your clit as he turned his smirking lips to your face.

“What is it you need princess?” He goaded, fingers continuing their circular motion, “my fingers?” He brushed them lightly against your core, “my tongue?” He traced his tongue along the line of your neck as he spoke, drawing a whiny cry from your lips.

Bucking your whips against him once more, your fingers began to grip the sheets of the bed as you begged, “your cock Az please. Give me your cock.”

“Is that what my mate desires?” He growled lowly against the sensitive skin of your neck, “For me to pound her to completion with my cock?” He slipped his fingers inside you as he spoke, pumping them to the rhythm of your moving hips as he continued to speak, “Is that what you need princess?”

Unable to speak you whined in response, eager hands unbuttoning his trousers as you longed not to waste another minute.

Compliant, Azriel removed his soaking fingers from your core. Aiding you with removing his trousers and undergarments until his aching cock stood to attention before you. Red tip already leaking from the intensity of his desire.

“I want you to fuck me like you own me Az” you breathed, locking your black eyes with his own, “show your mate how you would worship her.”

Groaning at your words, Azriel lines himself up at your core. His teasing head brushing along your folds until he finally gave in to his longing and began to push himself in.

Satisfied moans tearing from both your mouths as he continued to enter you until he was fully sheathed. Stilling for a few moments as he allowed you to adjust to his large size.

Finally, you signalled him to move by thrusting your hips upwards towards his own, begging for the male the fuck you.

And Azriel did. Pounding into you forcefully, guttural moans slipping from his lips as his hips met yours again and again. Powerful cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly.

The bond - the newly established golden thread which tied the two of you together - glowed brightly. Its presence creating an overwhelming intensity that drew you closer and closer to your completion with an unexpected ferocity.

The delicious sensation of your mates cock slipping in and out of your soaking core was enough to start to tip you over the edge of bliss, stars entering your vision with every thrust your mate delivered.

“That’s it” Azriel panted, the rhythmic movement of his hips never faltering, “You’re doing so well baby. Let it take over, show me you’re mine.”

You came undone with a pleasured cry, body spasming at the sensation as Azriel continued the brutal pace of his thrusts as he chased his own high. With your vision clouded by satisfaction, the only tell of him finding his completion was the strangled cry which tore from his throat as his thrusts finally slowed, the male delivering the last few twitching thrusts before he came undone inside of you with a groan.

Carefully, he withdrew himself from your core, moving so he was laid next to you. A gentle hand coming to caress your slightly sweaty skin, finger trailing the curve of your hips up to your ribcage before repeating the action.

“That was perfect” you hummed in contentment, pleased with the calming sensation that had settled in the wake of your high. Tired breaths still escaping from your lips.

“You think that’s it?” Azriel asked with a smirk, “My love that was just the beginning. I’ve yet to bring you apart with my tongue.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat at the promises which rolled from his lips.

“My darling mate,” he crooned, “you’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re leaving this bed before the end of the week. I’m going to explore every last heavenly inch of your body.”

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

Notes: Ummmmm if you read this no you didn’t 🫣🫣🫣 this was only my second time writing smut so I’m sorry it’s bad and let’s all forget this exists ok?

[faithisyours]

Returning Home

Azriel x Fem!reader (or GN reader)

Summary: Azriel comes back from a long and slightly traumatic mission bloodied and filthy, so you give him a bath.

Warnings: fluff, blood, nudity but its not sexual, Az and reader are mated, reader caring for Azriel, not proofread,

Word Count: 2.6k (I’m sorry)

A/N: Whatisupyouguys I’m back with another disgustingly sweet fluffy Azriel fic for you. I’m a slut for caring for this poor man, so that is what you will receive. School has been kicking my ass but I was able to pop this sucker out and am working on more Az fics, some of them spicy, even. Also, if you have any ideas for fics and you’d like to share, I’m all ears. I am pretty busy with school but summer is approaching and I plan on writing a ton. Even though this is fluff, minors please gtfo. Enjoy!

You were awoken from your slumber when you heard the back door slam. It was one AM. Why was your door slamming at one AM? That is what you asked yourself, and you could not come up with a good reason. So, you silently slipped from the warm caress of your blankets into the chilled air of your bedroom, pulling on your robe and grabbing the bat Azriel liked to keep next to your bedside table as you tiptoed out of your room.

You made your way down the hallway towards the source of the noise, the bat held high above your shoulder. You didn't think the intruder was dangerous, but it's better to be safe than sorry. As you silently made your way towards the original source of noise, you heard off to your left a shuffling of feet. You pivoted, slinking your way now towards the kitchen.

You drew the bat back, gearing up to swing, and hurtled yourself through the kitchen. But you came to a screeching halt when you saw your mate, Azriel, leaning over the kitchen counter, still as a statue, not even looking up to acknowledge your presence. He was covered in blood and grime, his leathers were muddied and damp, his shadows frantically swirling around him.

He had been on a mission, this you had known. He had told you this one might take a while. He had told you that two weeks ago. You had not expected him here, back home, at this hour, covered in gods knew what. It took you by surprise, his presence, but also the state he was in. He looked half dead, drained and pale and haggard. You dropped the bat.

The noise caught his attention. He raised his head, although it looked like it took effort, and locked eyes with you. Those hazel depths you loved so much now looked dull and dark. You moved towards him, your bare feet clicking on the polished wood beneath.

“Az?” you asked quietly, not wanting to startle him further. He pushed up from the counter, standing, but not to his full height. He was slouching in on himself, his wings almost dragging on the ground. He looked so tired.

You caressed his cheek in your hand, wanting to feel him. His shadows embraced you, but remained frantically swirling. You had missed him so much, it had almost torn you in two. And now he was here, in front of you, back to where he should be. But somehow it felt as though you had only gotten his body back, his mind still somewhere else. You tugged on the bond, hoping to get a reaction, recognition, something out of him. A small pull on the shadowy thread connecting you two was all you received.

“You’re home,” you breathed, “I’m so glad you’re home.” Both of your hands were now caressing his face, which was prickly from weeks of not shaving. He was staring back at you, but his eyes were vacant, barely any recognition that you were standing in front of him. It made your chest ache. You distracted yourself by looking over him, checking for injuries or any signs of distress. You found none, but you would have to get his leathers off to be completely sure.

“Azriel,” you grabbed his face and locked eyes with him, “You need a bath, okay? I’m going to give you one. Nod your head if you understand.” It was almost imperceptible, his nod, but you felt it, and that was enough. You took his hand in yours and led him towards the bathing chamber, which was just off to the left of your shared bedroom.

You stripped off your robe and hung it on the door, then turned to the massive tub and turned the water on. While you waited for it to fill, you turned your attention back to your mate. “I’m going to take your leathers off, okay?” He nodded, and it was visible this time. You took that as a good sign.

You began with his top, unbuckling and unbuttoning until his chest was bare. You looked over him once again, checking for injuries. You noticed some slight bruising on his ribs and a healing slash on his right bicep, but nothing extreme. You weren’t happy about him being injured, but he would live, which meant so would you. His wings didn’t look injured much, either, but they were covered in mud and splattered with blood. Gods, what had happened to him?

You checked on the state of the tub, adjusting the temperature and adding some rose oil into the water. The water level was almost to where you wanted it to be. Once again you turned your attention towards Azriel, this time to his bottom half. You pulled at the laces of his pants, loosening them enough to slide them down his legs. He lifted his legs, one at a time, so you could pull the material off. You also took this as a good sign.

You didn’t know what had happened on his mission to make him borderline catatonic, but you would do everything in your power to help get him back to his usual self. His shadows had calmed down a bit, now swirling slowly around the both of you, the frenzied movements gone. You looked towards the tub, the water at the perfect level, so you turned the faucet off. You tugged your nightgown over your head, then slid your panties off, joining Azriel in his nakedness.

You pulled him towards the tub, urging him to climb in. He did as instructed, sliding down into the water and pulling his knees up to his chest. You climbed in after him, sinking down into the steamy water so that you were kneeling in front of him. You grabbed the spong and lathered soap onto it, then got to work.

You grabbed one of his arms, pulling it out towards you, and started scrubbing the grime off his tattooed skin. “I made blueberry muffins while you were away,” you informed him, trying to distract him from whatever he was thinking about and pull him back to you. “I know they’re your favorite, but don’t get too excited. I ate them all. But I’ll make more tomorrow, okay?” his eyes were on your hands, where you were scrubbing his arm, but he nodded in recognition.

You moved on to his other arm, repeating the ministrations you had just done. Wanting to distract him further, you said: “Last week I went to Rita’s with Mor, Cassian, Nesta, and Feyre, and Cass got so drunk that by the end of the night he was telling Nesta he was mated and couldn’t go home with her. She hasn’t let him live it down since.” You smirked at the memory. Azriel looked slightly more relaxed, the corner of his lips almost lifted. Almost.

His arms were clean, so you moved on to his legs. They were less dirty compared to his arms, having been soaking for a while longer, but still needed scrubbing. You picked his left leg up by the ankle, raising and extending it so that it was just below the water, and began scrubbing. You wracked your brain for more stories to tell him, but you could not come up with any. So you stayed quiet.

Azriel so rarely let you take care of him. He always focused on you and your needs. And although the circumstances were not the best, you enjoyed being able to care for your mate in this way. You just prayed to the Mother your care would be enough to bring him out of the headspace he was in.

You finished cleaning his legs, which left his torso, back, and wings to scrub. Wanting to save his wings for last, you opted for his torso first. Azriel had pulled his knees back up to his chest, but you needed them down in order to properly wash him. So you grabbed his legs again, laying them flat, and when he resisted, you spoke down the bond, “I need your legs flat so I can clean your chest, okay?” He stopped resisting, letting you do what you needed to do. You lathered more soap onto the sponge, then scooched closer to him. You could feel his eyes on your face, and with it could feel him coming back to himself. You almost sighed in relief.

Bringing the sponge to his neck, you started scrubbing in small circles over his skin. You brought your free hand to his shoulder to lean him back, putting him at a better angle for you to see where you needed to scrub a little harder. Azriel brought his hands up to your hips, not grabbing them, just placing them on you. The action startled you slightly, just because you weren't expecting it. But once the shock went away, you leaned into his touch, the action as grounding for him as it was for you, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

You continued your ministries on his chest, slowly but surely making progress. When you were halfway down his torso you felt an immense wave of gratitude and love pouring down the bond at you. You couldn’t help but smile, pouring your own love and reassurance down the bond towards him. Finally all that was left was his back and wings. The bathwater was still warm, but you could feel it cooling down. And you wanted to get Azriel clean before the water got cold.

You put the sponge down and laid your hands on top of where he rested his on your hips. “Your wings need washing, they’re covered in quite a bit of blood and dirt. Do you want to clean them, or do you want me to?” you asked gently. He looked up at you, hazel eyes clashing with yours.

“Could you…” his voice was thick, and hoarse, so he cleared it. “Could you do it?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, my love.” you replied, rubbing your hands over his in reassurance. He turned around, giving his back to you, and once again brought his knees up to his chest. You tried not to think about it too hard, the fact that Azriel, the gods damned Shadowsinger of the Night Court, an Illarian fucking warrior, was drawing his knees to his chest, slouching in on himself, making himself smaller due to the memories wreaking havoc in his mind. You wanted to know what happened, shoulder some of the burden for him, sooth his mind from these memories. But it was unlikely he would tell you anything tonight.

You picked the sponge back up, added more soap to it, and began scrubbing his back. You started on his upper back, gliding the sponge over his tattooed skin. Running the sponge down between his wings drew out a long sigh from Azriel. Wanting to save his wings for last, you then focused on his lower back, gliding your free hand along with the sponge, wanting to make sure you were getting all the grime off him as well as comfort him with your touch.

Finally, all that was left were his wings. You started at the base of them, working your way up and over the dark, scarred membranes. Azriel extended each one while you worked, following your movements and positioning them so that you didn’t have to. You glided the sponge firmly along the patagium of each wing, working quickly to clean the grime off. You had learned over the years that this was the best and most efficient way. There was no way to avoid the sensitivity of the wings and what they elicited, but working swiftly, as well as using something other than your hand, seemed to ease some of the tension that would inevitably build up when it came to touching wings.

You looked over his back and wings one more time, checking for spots you might have missed, but found none. So, you put the sponge down and turned your attention to the person, rather than the body, in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders and scooched closer to him, so that your front was pressed up against his back. And then you slid your arms around his front, embracing him from behind.

You stayed like that until the water went cold, the only sounds filling the room were your synchronized breathing. Azriel broke the silence first. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for taking care of me. I don’t deserve you.” You tightened your embrace in response.

“I’m going to go get the bed warmed while you dry off, alright?” you said over his shoulder. He nodded, and adamant nod, a nod you knew was going to be the last nod you received before he picked back up answering with words.

You unwrapped yourself from your mate and climbed out of the tub, grabbing a towel on your way back into your room. You quickly wrapped the towel around you then got to work warming the bed. You also lit the fireplace, both for added warmth but also in hopes it would help Az sleep better. And just as you were getting done adding enough wood to the fire to last the night, Az walked out of the bathing room, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Besides looking clean, he looked much more himself now. His shadows had traveled out to the corners of the room, seeking darkness away from the fireplace. You hoped they didn’t mind much. You got up from your place before the fire and walked towards him. He embraced you this time, pulling his strong arms around your body, holding you to him.

“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” he said, barely above a whisper, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, but I’d like to cuddle with my mate now, if that's okay.” It was your turn to nod. You pulled away slightly, looking up into his eyes. You could live with him telling you what had happened tomorrow. And for now, you kissed him, gentle and slow, pouring as much comfort and love as you could down the bond. And he kissed you back like he was a dying man and your kiss was his lifeline. You supposed, in a way, it was.

You broke the kiss, shed each other of your towels, and tumbled into bed, holding one another like death was the alternative.

“Thank you,” Azriel whispered to you.

“You’re welcome, my love,” you replied. And you fell asleep, tangled together in an embrace.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sibling!Reader: Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

A/N: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

Warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[iwanty0uu]

How would aot boys react to reader saying she want a break and goes to sleep on the couch

Ony :

- “Baby girl what’s the matter?” He asked as he wrapped his hands around you, nuzzling into your warm body on his bed, his dark features enhanced by the blue light of your phone. You didn’t respond which earned a poke in the hip from him. “ You dont wanna talk t’me? What i do?” You hummed in response, scrolling through his following and his liked posts, all the girls that you felt looked better than you.. the insecurity started to get to your head. “Hey Ony..I think we should take a..you know..brea-” You heard the bed creak beneath you as he straightened himself up. “Y/n.. don’t play with me. You not deadass. How you finna be upset with me and not tell me what I did so we could fix it?” He said, his tone changing in frustration and confusion, but internally, he was afraid.. “Ony I dont wanna agrue nd I can tell Im just gonna make this worse.. I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight” You mumbled softly. “Like hell you will, the fuck. You gon talk to me whether u like it or not and if i gotta read your notes app to figure out who or what the fuck got in my baby’s head I will.” He grabbed your face peppering it with butterfly kisses.

• “We’ll figure it out together girl”…

Armin :

Armin was very observant, so when he noticed your distance, he panicked and it bothered him for days. “Love?” He asked from the living room, slowly entering making sure not to invade your space. You looked up in response turning your phone off to give your boyfriend your full attention. “ I got your text.. about, you sleeping on the couch tonight and stuff, n I don’t know if this is because mood swings or if its something that I did or if its something that you’re upset with me about not saying that I have to be the center of your life and emotions and everything because I know that you work really hard in school and-” He paused abruptly collecting his thoughts. He averted his eyes from your now concerned gaze. You never knew it would affect him this much. “What I’m trying to say is.. I got you chic-fil-a and a new blanket to make you feel better.. and hopefully we can watch a movie and talk about it?

• “I’ll give you your space but I’m only a call from our bedroom away okay?”…

Connie :

The ping of the basketballs in the gym echoed in your ears. You watched as your boyfriend got a little too friendly with his personal trainer who you weren’t jealous of, but you simply weren’t fond of her. Who would want their man getting touched up on by a girl for lord knows how long.. but Connie assured you that the only reason she’s here is because his usual trainer broke his arm and in three weeks, he’ll be healed enough to get back in action.He wanted to ask if you wanted to join him for the day but your energy was low so he let you be.. All was well until you were facing the window in the car, being less talkative than usual. The sun retired for the day and the sky was dark, “I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight”… “ No ur not..”… “You cant tell me what to do..”…. “ k .”

11:04 pm

You felt a sudden jerk, which made you open your eyes skightly, and a pair of hazel eyes met yours.“Hope you got all the space you needed girly..you wont see her training me again tomorrow, she was annoying anyways..”

• His plump lips met your temple as you nustled into his neck, “night”…

Jean :

You never knew when to stop playin. You set up your phone in the kitchen to record your boyfriend’s to your little “prank”.

8:15 pm- jean comes home

8:30- jean showers after greeting you

9:25- jean lays on couch

9:28- “Jean baby.. I’m gonna sleep here tonight..I need some space..”

9:30- “Back in my day, when the women needed space, they’d sleep with the oxen and mules..so”

You stared blankly at his unfunny joke, walking into the kitchen keeping deadpan eye contact, revealing your phone. “It was a prank fucking old ass man.”

• “Oh aii…”

HOPE YA LIKED IT- 𝓵𝓮𝓵𝓮 <3

[katelynnwrites]

Darling, You’re The One I Want (In Paper Rings, In Picture Frames, In All Dreams) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: f for fluff!

word count: 2655

summary: syd's been asking you to marry her since you were both little, before she ever had a proper ring

a/n: had this idea three days ago and knew it had to written right away so here you go 🥰 (update: made a little moodboard too)

Sydney has been introducing you as her ‘almost wife’ for as long as you remember.

You have been together since you were both in kindergarten, with your best friend proposing to you with a gummy ring.

Her mother had packed a small bag of peach gummy rings into her lunch box and so it’s on the swings in the playground that Sydney proposes to you for the first time.

‘There! You are my almost wife now.’ She declares, sticking the melting gummy onto your finger after you say yes.

You giggle and pull the ring off, eating the gummy ring with a smile.

Syd laughs, eating one of her own gummies.

‘I’m gonna marry you when we grow up.’ She says seriously.

You look at the girl sitting on the swing next to you. She has scuffed knees, messy braids and is missing one of her front teeth but you are sure that you want the same thing.

As the gummy ring is so short lived, the German girl steps up her game. She brings a ring pop that she has persuaded her father to let her buy after kindergarten the day before.

The ring pop lasts longer but at the end of the day, it is still gone.

So Sydney gets you a new ring pop, in a variety of different flavours every day. She asks if you will marry her each time and your answer never wavers.

It is always yes and you eat a ring pop daily until your parents intervene, telling you that eating so much candy is bad for your teeth.

You relay this to the blonde with the saddest of looks, completely convinced that this is the end of your so-called marriage with her.

She is undeterred by the setback though, showing up with a knotted piece of string next.

That piece of string stayed around your ring finger on your left hand until it disintegrated, at which your best friend promptly found another.

And so it continued, going from a piece of string, to a ribbon through primary school, to a folded paper ring in secondary school.

Sydney and you spend more time together than ever now, going to school together and playing football together.

The blonde had got you into it, sometime early into primary school. She had eagerly wanted you to experience what she loved so much about the sport.

It was easy for you to fall in love with kicking a football around, just as it is easy to fall in love with your best friend who proposes to you every time she gives you a new ring.

At fifteen, she kissed you for the first time and it came so naturally that the both of you just knew.

Neither of you would ever have eyes for anyone else and the transition from friendship to something more is remarkably smooth.

With each new paper ring, comes a kiss and a proposal from Sydney.

‘Will you marry me?’ She asks, holding out the paper ring she’d folded during her math class.

The blonde had noticed that the one you have been wearing has gotten worn down, the paper it is made out of is getting kind of icky.

‘Yes I’ll marry you sonnenschein.’ You say with a giggle.

Sydney’s hazel eyes sparkle and she is practically glowing with happiness when she slides your old ring off and replaces it with the new one.

It is why you call her sonnenschein. She lights up your day, every single day.

******

When you tear the tendons and ligaments in your knee so badly that your doctors tell you that you will never play football again, Syd spends the entirety of the first night in the hospital with you.

She had been there when you had been injured, heard the way you cried out and felt her stomach drop.

That look on your face, she had known right away that it would be a devastating sort of injury.

Sydney’s had plenty of experience with injuries herself and even before the doctors get a chance to look at your knee, she is aware that this one is different.

In her heart, she hates how she knows that no matter how hard you try, you will never be able to come back from this.

The blonde sits in the awful, uncomfortable plastic chair by your hospital bed, holding your hand although you barely talk. You’re far too caught up in what is the end of your short lived football career.

You and Syd had a shared dream and the both of you were on the verge of switching from your local sports club to one with more promise.

This injury of yours, could not have come at a worse time.

Your mind is spinning because what are you to do now? You are sixteen and all you have thought about is playing football.

Sydney stays with you till the doctors come in, to take you into surgery.

Her parents and yours are there but she pays them no mind, finally letting go of your hand and kissing you gently.

‘I’ll be right there when you’re out of surgery.’ She promises.

The German girl keeps her word because when you come to, she’s sitting by your side.

‘Hi.’ She breathes.

‘Hey sonnenschein.’ You weakly say.

Your head feels fuzzy but at least your knee isn’t hurting anymore.

Sydney strokes your baby hairs back lightly.

‘I love you. I’m going to be here for you, every single step of the way. However long it takes and no matter how uncertain it gets. That’s what almost wives do.’

You cry and laugh at the same time.

The blonde has a habit of introducing you as her almost wife because she hadn’t known the proper word when she was a kid. Now she knows the word fiancée but still chooses to stick with almost wife.

Your best friend reaches for your hand, pressing comforting kiss after comforting kiss onto your cheeks and forehead until your tears slow.

Then she shows you a somewhat lopsided beaded ring in the palm of her free hand. The way it’s strung together tells you that Syd probably made it for you herself.

You’d lost the paper ring you had been wearing, sometime in between your injury and the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Sydney must have noticed and it causes your heart to swell with emotion for her.

‘Will you marry me? Whatever you decide to do after you get out of the hospital, I will love you.’ She murmurs.

‘Yes I’ll marry you. I love you too.’ You answer softly and the German girl slides the beaded ring onto your hand, being extra careful of the IV in it.

******

That beaded ring stays on through your recovery and through your decision to pursue sports therapy now that professional football is not in your cards.

Until ultimately, the blonde signs for Bayern Munich’s first team.

With that bit of money that she gets, she goes out and buys you an actual ring. It is a simple piece of costume jewellery but it means the world to you.

Sydney doesn’t really make a lot, she had moved out of her family home to be closer to the training grounds so she certainly does not have enough to buy you a proper ring, on top of paying her rent, utilities and keeping up her football.

You are both only seventeen and you are completely okay with the ring she’d given you, faithfully wearing it each and every day.

It discolours after a couple months and the plastic gem in it falls out after a year.

Still, you keep wearing it till the midfielder buys another ring, also costume jewellery but definitely one in better condition.

That one lasts you until she signs another contract for Bayern, one that gets her significantly higher pay.

It is still not enough to buy you a real wedding ring but Sydney diligently puts aside part of her salary each month.

The monthly savings are not a lot because she has decided to start online university studies and the fees cost her on top of her usual spendings but it is a start.

In the meantime, she loves you and you love her. Twenty is the age where everything starts to get serious, you with your studies and the German girl with her football.

She is working on sealing her place on the national team, having made her senior debut two years ago.

With an incredible amount of pride, you watch her play and happily give her a kiss at the end of all her games.

Syd’s injury prone and she likes to tease you, telling you that you need to focus on your studies so that you can help keep her match fit.

As it is, she often benefits from your massage and anatomy classes.

‘I’m helping you get better by being your learning model!’ She insists all the time.

You don’t mind. The blonde sometimes trails after you with pleading eyes when she wants a massage. It is cute really and you’re happy to oblige her.

When she has tough training sessions, she never has to ask. You know right away whenever she does so and Sydney is often exhausted enough to fall asleep during those massages.

Then you just sit with her head in your lap, running your fingers through her hair until she either wakes up or you fall asleep with her.

Being intimately familiar with the German girl’s body is something you will never take for granted.

As Syd continues to play for Bayern, you more or less move into her apartment.

There is no point travelling back and forth between your family home and your university if the blonde’s place is nearer. You spend almost all your free time with her anyway so it only makes sense that you stay with her and contribute fairly to her rent.

She protests against the second part, protests that you ignore but as for the first, Sydney loves it. She loves that she has you to come home to and loves that she gets to go to sleep and wake up beside you.

‘My almost wife is waiting for me back home.’ She always explains before rushing off the second she gets back from away games.

Your sonnenschein adores spoiling you with home cooked food too. It gives her joy to cook and even more to share it with you.

Two years go by fast and Sydney does so well with her football that eventually, she finishes runners up in the Euros.

Then the split prize money, combined with her savings is enough.

You’d travelled around England to support her and watch her live her dream. You being there, cheering her on each and every game, only seals it in Syd’s mind that this is what she wants.

She wants you. Forever.

The second she is back in Munich and free of commitments, she’s off to a jewellery store to pick out a proper ring for you.

It does not take her long, one of the rings on display standing out to her immediately. The Bayern Munich player had not just saved up for any ring. She had intended on choosing a specific piece, with you in mind.

She knows that’s the one.

On your bedside table, you keep a box with all the rings the hazel eyed woman has given you over the years.

Sydney didn’t even know you were keeping them until you moved in with her.

Seeing the bits of half disintegrated string, ribbon and paper, along with the wonky beaded ring, it had let her know that her proposals mean just as much to you as your answers mean to her.

So it is with confidence that she buys a packet of peach gummy rings on the way home, for old time’s sake.

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter and snacking on some biscuits when she gets back.

‘Hey sonnenschein!’ You greet excitedly.

‘Hello.’ Syd hums.

She pulls herself up onto the counter beside you and happily accepts the kiss that you give her.

‘Want some?’ You offer.

The midfielder smirks, ‘I have something better.’

She shows you the peach gummy rings and you giggle, ‘Just like when we were little?’

‘Just like when we were little.’ She confirms.

With the two of you sharing the gummies, the packet empties quickly.

Sydney takes the last one and holds it out to you, asking, ‘Will you marry me?’

You smile at her.

‘Of course I will Syd. I love you.’

The blonde sighs contentedly and you laugh, taking the gummy ring and beginning to put it on your finger only for her to stop you with a gentle, ‘You can eat it. I got you something that will last much longer.’

‘Yeah?’ You question curiously, expecting another one of her costume jewellery rings as you pop the peach gummy into your mouth.

‘Yes.’

Sydney hops off the counter and reaches into her back pocket.

To your complete surprise, she gets down on one knee and reveals the ring box in her palm.

‘Sonnenschein?’

Your voice is trembling and your heart flutters in all sorts of ways as she opens the box to reveal the most beautiful of rings.

‘I’ve asked you to marry me countless times, with gummies, ring pops, strings, ribbons and beads. You have said yes each time and now I’m asking you one last time after finally getting a proper ring. Will you marry me?’

Sydney’s hazel eyes, the ones you are so in love with are radiant. Her cheeks are blushing a bright pink and easily, you get off the counter.

‘I’ve been saying yes since we were children. My answer won’t change now.’

The midfielder grins, ‘It won’t?’

‘No it won’t.’ You whisper.

Pulling Syd up onto her feet, you kiss her with every ounce of emotion that you have for her.

The safety and comfort you’d felt with her from the very first moment you met, the shyness you had felt when she kissed you for the first time, the pride you feel whenever you watched her play and most of all, the overwhelming love that you feel for her. The love that has been growing since she proposed to you with a peach gummy ring, in the kindergarten playground.

Your sonnenschein gasps against your lips, her hands going to your waist as she steadies herself.

It’s a heated kiss, one that leaves the pair of you breathless.

With closed eyes, she leans her forehead against yours.

‘Say it. Please.’

Her words are barely audible but you hear it all the same.

It is with all the affection in the world that you murmur, ‘Yes. I will marry you Sydney.’

The blonde can’t help eagerly scattering kisses all over your face, punctuating them with the words, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’

You laugh and are truly honest when you tell her, ‘I have loved being your almost wife but I think I will love being your wife so much more.’

Syd tilts her head upwards, in a failed attempt to hold her tears back because they slide down her cheeks anyway.

Ignoring your own escaping tears, you delicately wipe hers away.

She soaks in the gesture and quietly but assuredly affirms, ‘I know I will love being your wife.’

Her hands find yours and she slides your old ring off the fourth finger of your left hand, replacing it with her new one.

‘Hopefully this one will last.’ She teases.

You let out a tearful giggle, pressing your lips onto hers once more.

She tastes like peach gummies and it isn’t a proper kiss by any means because the two of you are smiling way too hard but when you draw apart, your words have never been more sure.

‘It will.’

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /one/ Azriel x Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut.

Be kind, I've never written for Az or anyone in Acotar before. But have been a fan of the books for years. Feedback is always appreciated

The air was chilly in Velaris. You walked along the Sidra, coat drawn in close. Laughter filled the streets as music drifted down the river bank. Everything felt peaceful. You were at peace, you didn’t fear being alone as you walked. You didn’t fear some random male coming out of the darkness. Velaris was safe, and you were safe. No one would dare touch you without permission here. You were as safe as you could be, even walking alone. 

But the shadows that swirled around you ensured that you weren’t alone, not in the slightest. You smiled as one strayed from the others and carefully touched your cheek. You were never afraid of the shadows, they were as close to you as friends. Their master being the best friend that you had, aside from your brother and cousin. 

“Hello,” You laughed, touching the shadow, “Where’s your master?” 

You stopped on the bridge overlooking the Rainbow of Velaris, your favorite section of the town. Music floated towards you as you watched people dancing and painting in the streets. The city was awake during the day, sure, but it came alive at night. 

“He’s here,” A silky voice spoke from next to you, as shadows gave way to a male. 

You smile again and turn to face him, his hazel eyes shimmering in the moonlight. He takes your breath away, always. Even when he shouldn’t, even when you should see him as a brother and only a brother. He seems like more to you, and always had. Even when you were small and children, you looked at him with bright eyes and felt your heart fly when he was around. 

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” His voice is gruff. 

“I’m safe,” you snort back, “No one would dare touch me.” 

You can’t help but shiver as a cold breeze blows down the river. In an instant his arms are around you, pulling you close into his body as wings wrap around you both, closing in the heat. You lied before, now you felt as safe as you could, in his arms. You didn’t think you could ever feel safe like this again. Much less if he wasn’t with you. 

“Love, you really should have an escort, nonetheless,” He chides. 

“I do,” you remind him, “I have you here. And your shadows before you.”

He sighs, seeming to know he won’t win in this fight. And then he’s quiet for a moment before leaning in to whisper into my ear, “Where you go I go.”

“But whatever we do, we do it together,” I finish for him, turning in his arms. 

His eyes scan yours, which you can only help reflect the love that you feel for him. He’s quiet as he scans your face. Then he slowly leans into you, lips closing in on your own. 

But then you wake. 

And then you remember. 

And the realization comes crashing down on you, removing the joy of your dream and only leaving behind the reality of your nightmare. 

Because you aren’t in the Night Court anymore. You aren’t with the Shadowsinger, or walking the roads of Velaris. No, you’re far from your home. Instead you’re stuck in a manor house, prisoner of the High Lord of the Spring Court. 

[alexiapp]

𝐕𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mostly smut so minors DNI !!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your fiancé decides you two should take a little vacation that let’s you two break lose.

_____________________

You and Alexia haven’t seen each other for a while, with you busy with work and her as well busy with football.

You were sat at home finishing any last work you had on your laptop, when you heard the front door slam.

You jumped, at the loudness of the door. It soon followed with the fridge opening and slamming shut.

You walked out the office to the kitchen, when you saw the blonde chugging water.

“Hey, baby your back already ?” You asked timidly.

“Yep” The hazel eyed woman said grumbling with a frown on her face.

You slowly walked towards her.

“Ale what’s going on ? Tell me babe” You said bring your hand to rub her back.

“I’m just so stressed, I just need a break i need to get away with you” She said looking at you, hearing the sadness in her tone.

“I would love to do that with you. I’ll do anything that can make you feel better love” You said to her, smiling at her with a loving gaze.

“Let’s go then” The hazel eyed woman said.

She grabbed both of your hands in her large palms and brought your hands to cup her face.

“W..what ?” You said with confusion.

“Let’s take a vacation, together, you and me.” She said trying to encourage you.

“But Alexia that means you missing out on-“ The older woman cut you off.

“I don’t care, i need a break with you. Let’s go to greece or Italy wherever you want to.” She said eagerly.

“I would love to go to Greece babe, I’ll call my job and call out” You said simply.

“Thank you, Thank you bonita” The hazel eyed woman said repeatedly bringing you into a messy kiss filled with excitement.

“Cmon ale we have phone calls to make and packing to do.”

____________________

𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐞

You and Ale were sat outside a body of water resting and looking at the view.

Alexia slowly brought her large hands to your thigh, “You look stunning mi amor” She said in a cooing tone.

She brought her lips close to your earlobe kissing down your neck.

“Ale” You said in a pleading tone using your hands to push her chest out of the way.

“I can’t help it, you look to good” she said trying to chase a kiss from you.

“At least let us wait until we get back inside baby” You said in a giggly tone.

“Okay, well let’s go inside” She used her strength and picked you up.

To which you yelped in surprise at her strength.

___________________

𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

Alexia plopped you on the bed and slowly followed suit to crawling until her body was hovered over you.

“That bathing suit is driving me insane bonita. I hope you packed more” She said in a low tone.

She grabbed your face in her large hands, pulling you in for a teeth-classing kiss.

The blonde slowly brought her lips to your neck kissing you softly, and slowly. Your breathing quickened at each sudden action.

She finally reached your pulse making you moan loudly.

“Ale, por favor” You said with a pleading look on your face.

“Please, what bebe ?” She said with that stupid smirk on her face.

“Please, make me feel good” You said biting your bottom lip squirming, under her hold.

“As you wish” She said in a seductive expression. She brought her thumb and pointer finger to pull the strings of your bikini top with swiftness.

As she did so she continued to kiss your neck occasionally sucking and biting, that you knew for sure would leave marks.

You threw your head back moaning lightly. The older woman then slowly kissed down around your chest. She used one of her hands to need your breast in her hands. Making you melt like into her touch.

She popped one of your nipples in her mouth, licking and sucking.

“oh my god ale” You said throwing your head back in pleasure moaning loudly.

Her hazel eyes flicked up making eye contact with you.

She then kissed down your abdomen occasionally licking.

She lifted one of your legs over her shoulders and soon kneeled off the bed.

She slowly needed your thighs, massaging you.

She brought the tip of her nose to touch your slit making you groan wanting more contact.

The hazel eyed woman brought her tongue to your clit, licking lightly swirling her tongue around.

“Yeah, right there” You said sitting on your elbows bringing your hand to her head.

She licked a large strip of cunt and then began to suck, harshly.

“You’re doing so good Ale” You said between moans your breathing becoming unsteady as the pleasure increased.

The blonde brought her finger and pumped into you as she continued to lick.

“I’m so close Ale” You said whining trying to encourage her.

She continued to go fast You used your hips to grind to her face trying to chase your orgasm.

“I’m about to cum Ale” You said moaning, your face screwing in pleasure.

“Cum for me, amor” She said in a husky tone to which she continued to lick and pump her fingers through your orgasm

You soon released, Moaning a soft ‘Alexia’ and flopped down on the bed in a daze.

She slowly climbed up the foot of the bed looking at you.

She slowly brought the two fingers that had your slick on it and brought it in her mouth licking it clean. She popped her large fingers out of her mouth groaning at the taste of you.

“You taste amazing mi amor” she said chuckling lightly almost teasingly.

You reached up and grabbed her neck and pulled in a kiss, still hot and bothered.

“I wanna make you feel good to Ale” you said looking up in her eyes.

“You don’t have to bonita” she said pulling away.

“ I want to” you said with pleading eyed.

She gave you a light nod to which you flipped both of you over, moving on top.

You brought your fingers to her chest dragging your finger down to her abdomen, making her abs flex under your touch.

She looked at you with hooded eyes. You grabbed one of your fingers and licked with your saliva, your fingers hovering over her sex.

You then began to pump your fingers.

“Oh bebe” She said moaning in pleasure.

Which only encouraged you to move faster and bringing and second finger.

She threw her head back and bite her lip.

Groaning in her pleasure the blonde woman drew her eyes down, watching as you fucked her with your fingers, that actions alone bringing her close.

She brought her tattooed hand to your face and pulled you into a messy kiss, sucking your bottom lip and bringing it in between her teeth as she pulled away, reaching her high.

You brought your fingers that had her slick on it to her pillowed like lips and said “Suck” quietly.

To which she sucked on your fingers seductively, with blown out pupils.

You both collapsed on the bed.

The air filled with silence until The older woman spoke up and said

“Round Two?”.

[allysunny]

Guiding Lights | Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: Nanami barely acknowledges you once he gets home. It's late and you've been waiting for hours. Again. Lately, it's all you seem to do for your husband. Wait, while he arrives home later and later. You decide to confront him about it, and things escalate.

Words: 6.5k

Warnings: Angst, heavy angst. Like, super angsty. Arguments and yelling, mentions of cheating, neglect and death. A very tired Nanami who's overworking himself. Angst with comfort, angst to fluff. Very happy and cheesy ending. Hopefully not OOC Nanami. Do let me know if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey guys!!! Oh my god I have been working on this fic for quite a while hahaha! I started it a few months ago, but then you guys started sending in your (lovely) requests, and it sort of got lost in my drafts. But I really wanted to get it done, so I focused on it again. Also, I'm terrible at summaries, I'm so sorry!! </3

I think this is my Magnum Opus so far. I really like how it turned out. I love my man Nanami, and I love angst (lol obviously), and I've always thought about this specific scenario. This is sort of like, the fic I've always wanted to read, you know? A "fine, I'll do it myself" fic, if you will, hahaha!

Well, I hope you enjoy reading it!! I certainly had a blast writing it <3

The door to your apartment closed as softly as it opened, and if you weren’t so intent on confronting the man who had just walked through it, you wouldn’t have heard the sound.

Looking up from the show you were watching and just paused, you take your husband in. He’s clearly seen better days. Shirt and tie slightly dishevelled, hair askew, large bags under his tired eyes. There is a big cut ripping his suit, and a smaller one on his jaw. 

“I’m home.” Nanami mumbled, taking said jacket off and placing it on top of the couch.

“Hey,” You replied, unsure of what exactly to say. You’d been awake for hours now, patiently waiting for him to come back, but now that he’s standing in front of you, you don’t know what to tell him.

You must’ve not thought things through, because instead of keeping quiet and letting this man enjoy some peace and quiet (something he seemed to lack), you decide to speak your mind.

“You’re late.”

Nanami sighed. He does not dare to meet your eye, instead making his way towards your kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. “There was a curse that needed to be exorcised. I was closer to the location, so they sent me.”

“You could’ve called.” He hadn’t even kissed you. Just walked straight to the kitchen, barely acknowledging you. “I was worried.”

“Well, I was busy.” Nanami put his glass down and rubbed his forehead. He looked drained. The sharp edges of his face look like they could cut your fingers, should you touch him. The exhaustion was piling over him, and it was clear to see.

You didn’t wish to push his buttons – God knows how hard his work as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was. But it’s not fair for him to leave for hours on end without telling you his location. You don’t want to control him, nor keep tabs on him all the time; you just want to make sure he is safe and doing okay.

You just want to make sure your husband will return to you and your son at the end of the day.

“And you couldn’t have spared me a minute? Just a text would’ve been fine.” You said, standing up and walking to him. Too busy to call? It would take him less than a minute to tell you he was safe.

“[Y/N], I didn’t have the time to call you.” Now he looked at you. Those beautiful hazel eyes which usually regarded you with affection and care, looked fatigued and weary. These eyes belong to a man who has seen too much, a man who is in desperate need of rest. But no matter how much you tried to coerce him into taking a break, he wouldn’t have any of it.

Ever since you had your son, he was more intent than ever on working and making sure curses were exorcised as soon as they appeared. All to keep your bundle of joy safe, to make sure he grew up in a better world. But lately, it seemed like he was stretching himself too thin, taking on every single mission, arriving home later and later.

“I was worried sick. You look hurt.” Nanami looked away once more when you approached him. Just as you were about to raise your hand and inspect his jaw, he turned away from you.

“I’m fine. You should go to sleep. It’s late.” His voice was almost devoid of any emotion. Is this what Jujutsu Sorcery did to people? Wear them down, strip them of their humanity and emotions until they were but a vessel of what they had once been?

When you first started dating, Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. He’d get home on time, every single day, just so he wouldn’t keep you waiting. He’d treat you like you were precious, because to him, you were. And now it seemed like he was perpetually tired, like there was something holding him back from the sweet man he had once been. You suspected he hadn’t held your son in a few days. Nanami always stopped by Haibara’s room before he went to sleep, just to watch his slow breathing and make sure all was well. But it had been weeks since you had seen him hold his child.

“Kento, you’re not fine. Just… Stop pushing me away. Please.” You reached out to touch his arm, and he shakes it away.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but it’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.” How could he be so careless about his health? Was he not aware of the family waiting for him at home?

You shake your head. You really didn’t want to do this. Not today. Not now. You’re tired – Haibara had been fussy all day, asking for “papa”, and there was nothing you could do to soothe him. And your husband looked tired too. Let’s not do this today. Not now. Go to bed, you thought. Go to bed.

Unfortunately, your mouth was quicker.

“Oh, yeah? Well, when’s it gonna be enough?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a scratch. Well, yesterday was just a scratch as well. So was the day before. And the day before that. Is tomorrow going to be just a scratch as well?” Your voice was rising, and you were fighting hard to keep the tears away. “It’s always justa scratch. When is it going to be enough for you to stop? When’s it going to stop being just a scratch? Huh? When you break an arm?”

“[Y/N].”

“When you lose a limb?”

“[Y/N].”

“When you lose your life?!” You tightened the grip you had around your body, using your arms as a shield against the despair and hopelessness you felt. You seemed to have stunned your husband into silence. Nanami breathed softly, looking at the floor. “When is it going to be enough for you?”

“I’m doing this for your sake.” He mumbled softly. 

“Maybe you were, once. But not anymore. No, you’re doing this for yourself.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Now it was your husband’s turn to raise his voice ever so slightly. His fists were clenched by his side, and his shoulders moved in sync with his breathing. “I’m out there, every night, doing this for you. For our son, for our family.” 

“No, you’re not!” 

“Yes, I am! If I’m out there, exorcising those disgusting creatures, it’s because I want our son to grow up in a safer world! I don’t want him to live in fear, I want him to be safe. And that’s exactly what I do.” 

“You say you care about your son, but you haven’t seen him in days.” You scoffed and shook your head. How could he say such things when you knew damn well he hadn’t even seen him? Let alone hold him or play with him. And the lack of attention from his father was clearly taking a toll on Haibara, who cried and cried, eyes anxiously looking for the tall figure he learned to associate with comfort. Not that he didn’t like you - you were his mother, and arguably, the only person he truly knew, but a baby boy needs his father, and Haibara didn’t seem to have his. 

You stare at your husband, noticing how time has changed him. The once gentle features have turned knifelike, his eyebags have become wide and deep, his eyes perpetually tired behind the fatiguing-looking glasses. What could possibly be more important than his family?

An unsettling feeling starts pooling in your stomach. You’ve tried not to entertain this idea for long - hell, you couldn’t think about it without becoming nauseous. Because he would never, would he? He’s your husband. The father of your child. Meeting another woman behind your back is clearly unthinkable, right?

The voice in your head that you’ve been trying to quiet down this whole time gets louder and louder. Ask him, it says, ask him and find out the truth. You deserve to know it, you’re his wife. What if he’s hiding something? Ask him. 

You want to trust your husband. You really do. You love him and always have and always will. But your mind is playing tricks on you, the weariness of the day and lack of comfort from this very same man messing with your brain. 

“Is it someone else?” You ask, feeling braver than you felt.

“What!?” he looked at you, eyes wide in surprise. As if what you’d ask was completely preposterous (to him, it was). 

“Have you been seeing someone else, Kento? Is that why you’re not home?” You were sounding surprisingly calm for a woman accusing her husband of cheating on her. 

Your husband shook his head vigorously, looking you in the eye. 

“I’m not. I haven’t been seeing anyone else.” You got a glimpse at your Nanami, the one who’s caring and sweet, the one who holds you when you cry and talks softly when you’re overwhelmed. You see him right now, in the way he assures you there’s no one else. 

“You’re not home. You arrive late, leave at the crack of dawn. Don’t hold our son, don’t touch me. Is this why? Do you have someone else? Do you love someone else?”

“[Y/N], I told you, there is no one else. I’m not seeing anyone,” he sighed, signalling his own exhaustion (as if it wasn’t evident by the way it clung to his face, body, and soul). “I’ve just been busy.” Nanami repeated, turning away from you, to place his glass in the sink.

“Too busy to see your own son?” 

“I told you, I’ve been busy, [Y/N].”

“He’s your son!” 

“This is my job - “

“We’re your family!” 

“Well, you can’t expect me to stay home all the time and cater to your every whim, can you?” Nanami had never yelled. Never in your time together you’d heard him raise his voice at anyone, let alone you. But the man before you couldn’t be your husband because he’d done just that.

“I’m not asking you to stay home and cater to my every whim!” Tears clouded your vision, and you stuttered pathetically, still trying to hold your ground. “I’m just asking you to be more considerate!” The more you spoke, the more you stuttered, the more your tears fell. Nanami, your sweet Nanami, your caring and loving husband would’ve never allowed this years ago. He’d have embraced you and kissed your forehead and wiped your tears. The man before you has no intention of doing that. 

“I have a job to do, [Y/N], I have a duty, I made a promise -” 

“You made a promise to me when we got married!” You wiped your tears away. Or tried to - they wouldn’t stop coming, big lousy tears that ran down your cheeks and made you feel even more miserable. “You made a promise to our son when he was born! And now look at you - you haven’t held him in days!” 

“He’s a baby, [Y/N]. He won’t die from lack of affection from me. God damn it, he won’t even remember it! You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” 

“You say that because you don’t spend time with him! I’m not making a big deal out of nothing; I’m telling you you’re neglecting your son!” 

“[Y/N], he’s a baby!”

“He misses his father!” Now it was you yelling, sleep and rest long forgotten. No, right now, all you wanted was to get to the bottom of this, to once and for all make your husband see reason. “He cries for you because he misses you! I miss you! Your family misses you terribly and all you’re doing is pushing us away!” 

An ear-piercing cry erupted from the monitor next to you. Hell, you probably didn’t even need the monitor. Haibara’s cries were loud and heart wrenching, and you snapped out of your rage fuelled trance as soon as you heard them. 

“Haibara,” you whispered, pushing past your husband and all but flying upstairs. You opened the door to your son’s nursery, and maternal instinct took over as you made your way towards his crib and picked him up. His tiny fists were clenched, and he waved his arms and legs around, crying his little heart out. 

“Shhhh, shhhh…” You cooed softly, taking him in your arms and pressing soft kisses against his forehead. “Mommy’s sorry, my love… Mommy was yelling, wasn’t she? She’s sorry… It won’t happen again my darling, I promise… I’m so sorry…” You cried, cradling his little body against yours.

Upon hearing your voice, his cries subsided, and the baby looked up at you with teary eyes, hands coming up to touch your wet cheeks. 

“Mama?” He asked in that tiny voice of his.

“Yes, my love, mama’s right here. I’m sorry. Mama was yelling, it must’ve been so scary.” You wiped his tears, kissing the top of his head. 

“Mama,” he said again, tapping his hands on your face once more, as if making sure you were there.

“Yes baby, mama’s here. Mama’s right here.”

“Papa?” Haibara looked around, and his lips turned into a pout once more. “Papa?” 

“I’m sorry, my love. Papa’s busy. He’s working hard to keep us safe,” Please don’t cry again, you thought, go to sleep baby, just go to sleep. Mommy needs rest too, especially after today. 

“Papa? Papa?” His cries became more insistent, and you tried your best not to burst into tears again. You felt like a failure. A failure of a wife, a failure of a mother. You felt like the home you tried too hard to build and cherish and fill with love was crumbling apart. 

“Go to sleep baby, okay? Papa’s busy, but he’ll see you some other time. Right now, he needs to rest because he’s been working so hard… And so do you, baby. Just get some rest, alright? Please.”

You sniffled a few times, singing and talking to him slowly, the way you knew calmed him down. “I’m so sorry for yelling honey, so, so sorry… It won’t happen again… How scary it must’ve been for you… It’s alright now, see? Mommy’s here, she won’t yell anymore…” 

You rocked Haibara and placed him so he was lying down in your arms. He looked at you first with a confused gaze, then with a small smile, and finally with a sleepy expression. Your sweet baby boy, who was all furrowed brown and blonde locks of hair, exactly like his father. Your sweet, sweet son, who’d babble in excitement when you twirled him around the living room and danced around as soft music played and knocked his head against yours in a loving gesture. He was your one weakness. You’d do anything for him. 

The love you have for this child is stronger than words can communicate, and you wonder how Nanami can possibly ignore him as easily as he does. 

You rocked Haibara some more, humming a tune you knew he liked. Once you turned around, you spotted Nanami leaning against the door, staring at the both of you in a mix of awe, hurt and sadness.

You returned his gaze, unsure of what to say. 

What even was there to say? 

The life you’d so lovingly built for yourselves seemed to have come crashing down, until all that was left were broken pieces.

Nanami approached you two, with slow heavy steps. Once you managed to get a good look at his face, something inside you broke. 

Nanami was crying. 

Big, silent tears rolled down his cleverly sculpted cheeks, and his eyes drifted to the sleepy baby in your arms. 

And then he did something neither of you were expecting. 

He sobbed. 

Loudly. 

So loud, little Haibara stirred in your arms, looking over to the source of the sound. 

His face twisted in confusion, and his pouty lips parted to utter a single word. 

“Papa,” he babbled, hand pointing in his direction. “Papa. Papa. Papa.” Haibara mumbled over and over again, arms flailing in Nanami’s direction. He twisted his whole body, muttering “Papa” and whining loudly.

“Haibara,” Nanami whispered, hands coming up to cradle his son - an adorable sight, really. Your husband, with his big, strong hands, handling a tiny baby with the utmost care. He held Haibara straight, and cried once the baby knocked his head against his, gurgling in excitement and flailing his arms around. 

“Papa!” If your son was or had been sleepy, he didn’t show it, instead babbling a single word repeatedly, hands either coming up to touch his father’s face, waving around, or clapping. “Papa!” 

You wondered how long it had been since Nanami had held him. It was clear Haibara missed him, and although the sight before you was heartwarming, it still hurt that, for this to happen, Nanami had to ignore his child. 

“My son,” Nanami cradled Haibara carefully, leaning his forehead against the baby’s. “My sweet, sweet son. I have been such an idiot. I’m so sorry…” He kept on sobbing, kissing Haibara all over his face, head, and hands, as if trying to convey his regret in some way. “I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.” 

It was both heartbreaking and heart enriching. There he was, your husband, finally holding his son, finally apologising, finally making amends. You knew him to be telling the truth. Nanami might be stoic and cold on the outside, but you got to him. You knew him, inside and out. You could tell when he was genuine, and, well, he’d never been more genuine than now. 

Nanami turned to look at you, eyes still puffy from the tears. He shook his head once, then twice, then turned to face his son once again. 

“I’m so sorry… I’ve been neglecting you all this time… My family, my own family… I promised to take care of you…” This confession only made him sob louder. Your son quickly picked up on the atmosphere because he too started pouting, and expressing his discomfort through sounds. 

“Oh -” Nanami was quick to change the baby’s position, making him lie down on his arms. “Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s fine now, alright? Why don’t you go to sleep and give your mother some rest?” 

“Papa,” Haibara blinked his eyes once and reached up to touch his father’s face. Nanami smiled, holding his son’s little hand in his, pressing a soft kiss against it. 

“That’s right. Papa. Papa’s here.” 

“Pa - pa,” Your son was interrupted by a big yawn. He blinked at his father once again, and quickly turned around, snuggling against his arms and chest. 

There was something about tall and strong 7 to 3 sorcerer Nanami Kento melt while holding a tiny baby in his arms that made you chuckle. You wiped your tears and watched as your husband kissed your son’s forehead one last time, before putting him down on his crib once again.

Nanami made sure to check Haibara’s crib, gazing at him with that adoring look in his eyes, before exiting the room. You did the same and did not need to be told twice - you followed your husband, who was already in your shared bedroom, sitting on his side of the bed and facing the wall. 

Leaning against the doorframe, you stared at him. 

None of you wanted to break the small bubble you’d been immersed in. Although you hadn’t spoken with each other, the last few minutes with Haibara had spoken volumes. It was as if the ocean of hurt and neglect had been breached by the child who was a careful mix of the two. 

And yet, it still hurt to address the elephant in the room. 

You’d hated yelling at Nanami. You’d never done it. And he’d never yelled at you. Not even towards his most eccentric and insufferable coworkers, Nanami dared to yell. He believed arguments and misunderstandings could be solved without raising one’s voice. But he’d gone and done the one thing he promised never to do.

It was Nanami who, after what seemed like an eternity, reached across the ocean. 

“I’ve lost my focus,” he said, still staring at the wall. “I’ve gone and ruined the one good thing in my life.” 

All you could do was listen. You’d waited too long to hear these words. 

“The truth is, I’m scared.” There it was again, that vulnerability in his voice, that softness and truth that reminded you your sweet husband too was human. “I’ve been scared ever since Haibara was born. I want to make the world a better place for him. I don’t want him to grow up surrounded by curses, always looking over his shoulder in fear…” He clenched his fists, only this time, the anger wasn’t directed towards you. 

“I thought if only I worked hard… If only I worked all these extra hours, I'd be making a difference. I’d be protecting my family.” 

You had no control over your body, but it didn’t matter. Your heart would always follow Nanami Kento, and right now, it was telling you to go to him. You stood near the bed, just a few feet away from his sitting figure. 

“You are protecting your family,” you said, just as softly as him. 

“No - no, I’m not. What if something happens while I’m gone? What if I’m not home, and someone gets to you first?” Nanami sighed, voice laced with fear. You could tell he was close to tears once again. “I’ve been so busy trying to take on each and every mission, I forgot to protect my family in the most important way - next to them.” 

You remained silent. 

There was nothing you could come up with. He was right. Those were your words and your thoughts. Then why was it that when they were finally uttered, you felt sadness rather than happiness or relief? It pained to see your husband hurting. 

You sat down next to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, an encouraging gesture. 

“I miss you…” he continued, tears now running freely. “I miss you two so much… Haibara… Haibara’s growing up without a father… And it’s all my fault…” Hunching over his knees, Nanami took his face in his hands, crying silently. “And you, my love - you’ve been here all this time, working so hard to keep our family together, and I was too blind to appreciate it… I’m so sorry…” 

He then looked at you, and you saw years of your relationship fly by. 

In his eyes, you saw your first meeting. You saw the day he bought you coffee for the first time. Satoru playing matchmaker. You saw your first date, full of nervousness and a fleeting kiss that lasted no longer than a few seconds but was enough to leave you both flustered and breathless. You saw the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, a bouquet of bright pink camelias in his hand. Him holding you close after you’d loved each other for the first time, hands tracing patterns on your back, whispering words of appreciation and love in your ear. 

You saw your wedding day, the first dance you two shared and how he smiled like a fool despite all the teasing from Satoru and his students. You saw him carry box after box, unpacking items and decorating what would later become your loving home. You saw the way he cried in your arms when you showed him the positive pregnancy test, and how he kneeled before you to kiss your stomach. 

You saw him holding your hair back while you puked, always so attentive, making sure you were fine. Him massaging your feet, rubbing your legs and preparing you meals according to your cravings. You saw him hold Haibara for the first time, hazel eyes ever the softest. You saw him sleep with your baby the first few weeks to ensure you had enough rest. 

You watched as he got up earlier and earlier each morning, some of them even going as far as to forget to kiss you goodbye. You saw him arrive later and later, claiming he was “too tired” to eat with you, “too busy” to see your son. 

You saw all of this in a span of just a few seconds. You saw all the love, the regret, the hurt, the pain, the happiness and desire, all of it. You saw the life you had carved together, the house decorated to your and his liking, the way it just felt like home, and lately felt like anything but.

Nanami left the bed and knelt before you, eyes still watery. 

“I’m so sorry,” he started. “I’ve been a neglectful husband. I’ve been taking you and our son for granted.” Slowly, he took your hands in his. You allow him, having missed his warmth, his comfort. “Will you forgive me?”

That was the question. 

Would you?

Could you? 

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” he shook his head, thumbs circling your palms affectionately. “You can take all the time you want. You can think about it, make me suffer all you want - hell, I deserve it, after all that I put you through. Just… think about it. Please. Even if you never forgive me, just know that I am so, so sorry for all the suffering I caused you. I’ve been such a terrible husband…” 

HIs cries don’t seem to subside, and he lays his head on top of your hands. 

It breaks you to see your husband like this. No matter how much you were hurting, no matter how much you missed him and his absence broke you inside, you never wanted to see him hurting.

Instinctively, your hands flew to his hair, caressing it softly, massaging his scalp like you always did during lazy Saturday mornings, when he’s clingy and needy after having worshiped your body thoroughly, or during Sunday afternoons, when you watched your son play with his toys in the garden. 

Nanami’s shoulders sagged, and he rested his head fully on your legs.

You think about what he said. 

Forgiveness. 

Could you ever forgive you husband after all the pain he’s caused? 

After the late nights spent with dread, fearing the worst, after the early mornings devoid of any affection and love, after the distant weekends and inexistent holidays?

But even as you thought this over, your heart had already decided for you. 

You’d walk to the end of the earth for Nanami Kento. And you were sure he’d do the same. 

Delicate hands are placed on the sides of his face, and your husband looked up, a pained expression in his eyes. 

“I love you,” you whispered, hoping that somehow, someway, these three little words would convey just how deep your adoration for this man goes. “Of course I’ll forgive you, Kento.” 

His chocolate brown eyes seem to sparkle, and he holds his head higher. 

“What?”

“I love you. We can fix this. I know we can.” 

“Yes - [Y/N], yes. We can. I can. I will. I promise you.” Kento placed his hands on top of yours, holding them gently. After all, he’s holding the entire world in his hands. 

And although you just want to skip to the good part, you shake your head, interrupting him before he can get too excited. 

“But,” you began, “You need to change. This needs to change, Kento. I… I can’t raise a child on my own. I can’t nurture a home all by myself.”

“Yes - yes, you’re right. My love, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t ask you to give up Jujutsu Sorcery.”

At this, he seems to tense a bit. You knew how important your husband’s job was to him. After all, he was keeping people safe, making the world a better place. It was terrifying, but it made him happy, and that’s all you could ask for. 

“Just… Be more careful.” These words are uttered with the utmost softness, in fear of breaking the little trance you were in. “You have a wife waiting at home for you. A son. Your family needs you. And I know you’re making a difference out there, but we also need you here. With us.”

“And if some day, you do end up working overtime, just… Please say something. Just to let me know. I don’t want to know your whereabouts all the time, I don’t want to control you. I just need to know you’re safe.”

Nanami nodded. Eagerly. It was as if you’d just told him you would gift him his weight in gold three times. In fact, you’d given him something better than that. Your love. Your forgiveness. To Nanami, getting you back, winning your trust again, that’s what truly mattered. 

“Thank you.” He kissed your hands. “I will. I promise, I’ll change. I’ll be a better husband for you, and a better father to Haibara. My love… My sweet wife, the love of my life… I can’t believe I took you for granted. I was so worried about failing you, I forgot what was truly important. My family.”

“Kento,” you said, shaking your head. Your eyes filled with tears once again. “You have never disappointed us. You will never fail us.”

“If I didn’t work hard enough to clear the world of curses, I would. If I don’t make a difference, I’m letting you two down. I want to protect you. I don’t want to lose you like I lost…” Nanami was unable to finish his sentence. You knew he still felt responsible for the death of his friend. Too responsible. When you suggested naming your son after his best friend, he’d choked up and cried. It is a beautiful tribute, he’d tell you later. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nonsense.” You spread your legs and pulled him by his face. Nanami quickly got the hint and stood in between them, facing you directly. “You are making a difference, Nanami Kento. You’re making the world a better place. Haibara and I are so proud of you.”

Nanami wept, and you wept with him. He leaned his forehead against yours, and you cried together, not sure of where his tears ended and yours began. You closed your eyes, hands still on his cheeks. 

“I’ve been such a terrible husband. Such a terrible father.”

“It will get better. Promise me you will be better.”

“I will. I promise. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s in the past now, Kento. Let’s focus on the future. Please.”

“I’ll make it better. Cross my heart, [Y/N], I will. I’ll start right damn now, by doing something I haven’t done in a long time.”

Nanami took your chin in his hand, angling you towards him. Then, he leaned forward, kissing you softly. You let out a noise of contentment and kissed him back, hands pulling his face impossibly closer. It’d been a while since he’d touched you, let alone kissed you. You missed this. You missed him. 

You kissed him with the hunger of a starved woman, and he kissed you with all the regret he had. You poured all your sorrow into this kiss, while he tried to communicate just how much he loved you. Your tongues moved in sync, and the kiss felt like home. 

When you eventually parted for air, Nanami opened his eyes, taking you in. Eyes red from the tears, cheeks puffy, lips plump and swollen. He hated seeing you in pain but thought himself deserving of torture for making you suffer this much. 

“I missed you,” he whispered, kissing your lips again, this time quicker. 

“I missed you too,” you replied with what looked like a hint of a smile. You hadn’t smiled in a while. Nanami knew this and chastised himself mentally. Never again would you suffer like him. And never again would he be the cause of your pain. 

“I’m taking the rest of the week off,” he mumbled, staring into your eyes. He’d almost forgotten how they had the loveliest of colours. In fact, they’d become his favourite shade. Waking up to those gorgeous eyes of yours had once been his greatest joy in life. He would make sure to make it a priority once again. “Damn it, I’ll take the whole month off. We’ll spend some time together. Just you, me, and Haibara. How does that sound?”

You giggled. And how lovely was the sound of your laughter.

“That sounds perfect. I’d love that very much. I think Haibara would too.” 

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so. He’s been missing you too much. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to spend some time with Papa.” 

“Well, I am ecstatic to spend some time with my little one. And my beautiful wife as well.” This one earned a bigger smile from you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, crashing your lips onto his with vigour. 

Nanami chuckled against your lips, and parted from you, getting up and extending his hand towards you. When you cast him a confused look, he nudged his head towards the en-suite bathroom. 

“I need to wash the day off me. Will you join me? Please?” 

And how could you refuse when he asked you so nicely?

The bath was by far the most relaxing time you’d had the past few months. You sat with your back against Nanami’s chest, and felt the tension leave your body as he lovingly massaged your shoulders and back, placing kisses along the line of your neck. 

You washed his hair, massaging his scalp and putting his hair up in all sorts of weird shapes, earning a few smiles from him. 

You kissed him with slow languid kisses, caressing his jaw, shedding a few tears of happiness, sadness, sorrow. He replied tenfold, whispering words of adoration against your lips. 

It wasn’t sexual or lustful. 

It was caring, slow, loving. It was a man showering his life with love, showing her he cared, showing her he loved and cherished her, and would never again take her for granted. 

Once you two had rinsed off and dried yourselves with towels, Nanami gently applied body lotion in your body, kissing the spots he’d covered in hydrating cream. 

“You smell nice,” he mumbled against his skin. 

He carried you to bed, lying you down and scooting over to you. How you’d missed being held by the man you loved. How you’d missed his weight next to yours, his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You turned to him, nuzzling his torso with your nose, placing your hand on top of his chest. You could feel his heartbeat and relished in it. It meant he was alive. He wasn’t dead in some ditch, all alone and away from his family. He was right there next to you, safe and sound. 

“I’m sorry for getting lost.” You heard Nanami whisper a few moments later, when the world is quiet and dark, when you two were the only souls still awake.

“You’re back now. You came back to us. Thank you for coming back.” You kissed his pectoral, and he kissed your forehead. An exchange. 

“I won’t get lost again. I promise. Not as long as I have you to guide me. You’re my light, [Y/N]. My guiding light. You and Haibara. I love you two so, so much. I would do anything for you. My family.” 

“We love you too. We’re so glad you’re back.”

“And I’m here to stay. I really am. Tomorrow’s going to be all about you two, I promise. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I said Haibara wouldn’t remember. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was tired. I know that’s not really an excuse, but I promise to make up for that behaviour.”

This is what you loved most about your husband. He was down to earth. He recognised his flaws and worked on them. Whenever he made a mistake, he made sure to apologize for it. Your arguments in the past (although small and dumb compared to today) had never gone unresolved, with calmness and willingness to listen from both parties. You could count on your husband to be the respectful diplomat.

You looked up at him. He had his brows furrowed, the way he always did when he was thinking, the way you’d seen your son do once or twice. He was the spitting image of his father.

“I know,” you said, caressing his jaw. “I’m sorry too. For yelling. For saying all those things. Saying you didn’t care about us. I know you do. You’ve been busy, but –“

“No.” Nanami interrupted you. “Don’t that. Don’t say it’s not my fault. I appreciate your apology, and I understand what you mean. But you were right. I mean, I do care.  You know I do. But I lost sight of what truly mattered.” The cadence of his voice soothed you, and your eyes got heavier as each second went by.

“I was actually going to say, ‘You’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse to brush off your family’. Oh no, Mister, you aren’t getting off the hook so easily.”

Nanami chuckled and kissed your forehead once again.

“You’d never let me, I know.”

A few silent moments went by, with only the sounds of your and Nanami’s soft breathings signalling your presence.

“[Y/N]?” It was quietly ushered, and you’d miss it if you weren’t so connected to this man.

“Yeah?” you replied, just as quietly. It was such a fragile moment. Better not to speak too loudly in order not to break it.

“I love you.”

You smiled.

“I love you too.”

He heard the smile in your voice, and it made him smile too.

“You’re the love of my life.”

“You’re the love of my life as well.”

More silence.

Followed by your husband, again.

“I love our family.”

“I love our family too.”

You snuggled closer, inhaling his scent. It was intoxicating. Musky and manly, and it made you swoon every time. Great choice in body wash – a choice made by you.

“Are you smelling me?” Nanami chuckled, his eyes too closing.

“You smell really good.” Now you were the mumbling one. Nanami had to work really hard to understand what you were saying.

Perhaps the night had run its course.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, placing one last kiss on top of your head.

“Night night, ‘Nami…”

You fell asleep in your husband’s arms with a content smile, and a full heart, and Nanami refused to let you go.

He’d lost focus, been to hell and back, too afraid to let his family down.

But as he held half of his world in his arms (and lovingly thought about the other half, comfortably tucked in his crib), Nanami felt blessed. He’d gotten incredibly lucky, with an amazing woman who loved him for who he was and always made sure to remind him of that, and a son who inspired him to be a better man every day that went by.

As he thought about how wonderful his life was, Nanami smiled.

You and Haibara, his guiding lights.

He would never get lost again.

A/N: That's it! Whew!!! Well, once again, I really hope you guys liked it! I loved writing it - Nanami and angst might be my favourite combination, hahaha. Or anyone and angst. I just really like the feels. Anyway, I hope you guys have an amazing day!

[azsazz]

Ride for Me

Cassian x Reader [Starfall Week Day 1]

Summary: @starfallweek Day 1 Prompt: Rumor has it, stardust increases attraction, and character A could really use some help right now…

Warnings: None

Word Count: 804

Notes: Starfall Week 😍

_________________________________________

“Sweetheart,” Cassian chuckles against your lips, groaning when you slide your tongue easily into his mouth, grazing it languidly against his, “We’re going to be late.” 

“Don’t care,” you pant, pressing even closer to his large body. He’s so warm, solid in all of the right places. Namely, his cock stirring against your hip. “Need you so badly, Cassian. Please.” 

You want to whine when his large, calloused hand caresses your jaw, gently straightening to his full height. His hazel eyes are swimming with an emotion that is gone before you can pick up on it, but the soothing motion of his thumb against your cheek helps settle the raging need inside of you. 

“What’s gotten into you today?” he wonders. Then, as if he’s made some sort of mistake, he tacks on quickly, “Not that I’m complaining. I love when you’re all needy for me…” His voice turns rougher and he pinches your hindsight which makes you jolt against him. He grunts a little at the feeling. Maybe you don’t need to be at the House of Wind on time…

You shrug bashfully, cheeks pinkening. “I don’t know,” you admit, “There’s something about Starfall that always gets me a little…”

“Aroused?” he teases, dipping down to pepper your cheeks with kisses because you’re too adorable not to. “No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I can smell it on you, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled.” 

His words make your grip tighten around his neck and your thighs tremble. His hands are so big where they’re settled on your hips and you just want to feel those hands all over your skin, running down your sides, cupping your breasts, slipping into your cunt—

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. You shiver as his breath tickles your throat. Cassian digs his nose in, right where he can scent you the most. “You might just break me yet.” 

“It wouldn’t take much,” you croon, dragging your nails right down his back, reveling in the way that his grip on you tightens and he nips at your neck. “We can be a little late,” you offer, but it sounds more like a desperate plea. You’re uncomfortably wet, the ache between your legs distracting and in need of relief.

“We can,” Cassian answers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut, moving even closer into him, pressing your breasts up against his chest. “But then everyone would know that I fucked you so hard that you couldn’t walk.” 

There’s always something about Starfall that has you feeling like this. Maybe it’s the energy in the air, the excitement of seeing the greatest Night Court tradition, spending it with your mate. The celebration leaves you feeling needy, like those colorful star clusters darting across the night sky brings a spirituous sense to the court, to your soul.

It started early this year.

“So maybe we don’t show up at all,” you try to joke, but a night alone with your mate under the stars sounds too perfect, you don’t think Cassian would ever go for it.

As if you’re right, Cassian pulls away slightly, staring deeply into your eyes. His face is serious as his gaze flickers between each of your eyes, taking you in. “Is that what you want, mate?” he asks softly, and it makes your heart ache a little. 

You’d love to spend the night alone with Cassian, but you understand how important it is for him to spend it with the rest of the Inner Circle. It’s been an important tradition to him for centuries now, long before you came into the picture. You couldn’t ruin that for him, you wouldn’t ruin that for him.

You part your lips to speak but Cassian’s already swooping you into his arms and bounding for your bedroom. “What…?” 

His voice is gruff, sure of his words as he strides for your room. “My mate needs me,” he says, and butterflies explode in your stomach. “Everyone is going to understand that,” Cassian adds softly when he feels the worry emanating through your shared bond. He plants a reassuring kiss to your forehead, shouldering his way through the doorway. “And if they don’t, they can get fucked.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you beam and he laughs. You snuggle closer into his chest, loving the way that it rumbles with his laughter.

“You’ve succeeded in that, sweetheart,” Cassian whispers, finally setting you down on your feet right at the foot of the bed. Your heart jumps into your throat when he gets down on one knee, but he’s lifting your foot, helping you out of one shoe and then the other. “Now, let me help you out of this dress.”

[livwritesstuff]

i hit 100 followers while i was asleep (absolutely bananas imo but i’m so thrilled y’all are enjoying my steddie dads verse bc i’ve literally never had so much fun writing before) so here's a sneak peek of a wip featuring the Harrington fam

Eddie does not understand sports. 

He may be approaching fifty years old and way past his old ways of rejecting every notion that doesn’t perfectly align with his own interests, but even after all these years, the wires in his brain simply cannot wrap themselves around sports no matter how hard he tries.

And he does try because, naturally, he has three daughters, Moe, Robbie, and Hazel, all of whom play sports.

To be clear – his kids can do literally anything they want, bar none.

He’s still in goddamn awe with the whole arrangement that is the life he lives every day – kids and a house and a job he loves and all that with Steve Harrington of all people. There’s no way Eddie would start fucking all that up by projecting his own weird quirks onto his children. He refuses to be the kind of parent that prevents their kids from doing anything just because they don't get it. If the girls want to play sports, they’re gonna play sports. Nothing wrong with that.

Still, sports are one of those things he takes the back seat and lets Steve hold the reins for, especially now that thirteen-year-old Moe is pretty deep into the whole basketball thing. 

Steve understands the politics of the game, both on the court — like knowing which refs are gonna be biased towards which team and noting Moe’s play-time each game — and off. He schmoozes the coach, he’s friends with all the parents, all the things Moe, at thirteen, doesn’t even notice and Eddie, while aware of it, doesn’t understand. He still can barely follow the games themselves (and he goes to as many as he can, though he and Steve are outnumbered by one and with the prospect of the girls carting themselves around still a distant fantasy their schedule is insane so he can’t make them all). He does his best to follow his husband’s lead but Steve doesn’t always react to things the way Eddie thinks he will. He doesn’t bat an eye when a kid gets smacked in the face with a ball, nor at the impossibly loud thud when someone hits the deck (look — he gets the floor is hollow, but it is loud). He’s completely unbothered by the fit Moe throws every game whenever she’s inevitably benched for having an attitude with her opponents or her teammates or the coach or the ref or just about anybody who tries to get in her way.

As is what happened at Moe’s game yesterday.

Eddie hadn’t seen it — well, he’d seen it, but seeing something and understanding what he’s actually looking at are two totally different things. From what he gathers, Moe had missed an easy shot and gotten pissed off in her own little way about it, so she’d launched herself at whoever on the opposing team had gotten their hands on the ball after it ricocheted off the backboard. Unfortunately for Moe, the team they were playing had a reputation for being a little too aggressive for a middle school league, so when she’d hit the ground, she hit it hard. Moe had been pulled off the court by her coach (carded, maybe? Eddie still isn’t sure how that works in basketball) and scowled on the bench for the rest of the game.

Steve had tried to reason with her on the drive home (an interesting choice, in Eddie’s opinion).

“Darling,” he’d said, “I totally understand being upset about missing a layup, but I don’t know how to get it through your head that intentionally fouling someone isn’t the way to go about resolving that emotion. I love you and I support you, but I’m getting tired of watching you play for three minutes and then sit on the bench for the rest of the game.”

“Talk to the coach then,” Moe had grumbled.

“About what?” Steve exclaimed, “Moe — you do it on purpose!”

The conversation had ended not long later because Moe decided to give them both the silent treatment (a clear sign that she knew she was in the wrong even if she didn’t want to admit it) and Eddie thought that was the end of it (for that game, at least). Then, Moe threw them a curveball by spending most of that evening in the bathroom throwing up, at which point she admitted that her head had caught more of that fall during her basketball game than she’d originally let on.

Steve doesn’t mess around with head injuries (for obvious reasons), so the next morning he calls Moe out of school and brings her to their pediatrician to get checked out.

A couple hours after Robbie and Hazel boarded the school bus bound for their elementary school, Steve and Moe return home.

“So what's the verdict?” Ed asks as they enter the kitchen.

“She's concussed,” Steve announces.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“No sports, no bright lights, no reading, no school, no phone,” Steve says pointedly, and Moe only scowls harder. She’d been using the incident as a leveraging tactic in her crusade to get a phone. Not being able to play sports was a no-brainer; they’d all seen that one coming, so even as recently as this morning, she’d been claiming that she’ll “die of boredom without a phone,” while she recovers.

Even as recently as this morning, she’d been largely unsuccessful.

“Thirteen-year-old children do not need phones,” Steve had told her, “If someone wants to talk to you, they can call the house, and if it's urgent enough that it needs to be right now, you can get walkie talkies.”

“No one uses walkie talkies.”

“Your dad and I used walkie talkies all the time.”

“Uh, pretty sure it was just the one time, Steve,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah! And it worked out great!”

CONTINUE ON AO3