#☾ Not Always As Tough As I Seem

[lunarruled]

Shane couldn’t help but watch her as she put their breakfast on the plates and poured them both a cup of water. He shifted slightly when she sat down next to him. He didn’t want to seem greedy, but his stomach rumbled slightly as the thought of eating two meals in a row at actual meal times was something that was too good to ignore. He reached for the plate, smiling shyly for the first time in his life. “Sorry. Just hungry. I could get used to his,” he admitted as he took a forkful of meat and shoved it into his mouth. He listened as spoke about the pictures on the walls upstairs. He avoided the pictures and other personal items if he could help it. He didn’t want to think about all the people that had once made the world so alive and vibrant. Now they were either dead or out there roaming around as one of those dead things that were eager to put an end to every other living person that had managed to survive this far. “Please tell me the man wasn’t the overall-wearing type,” he groaned, remembering the overalls that Patricia had given him that had felt as if they were made out of lead. He could lie and say the guilt hadn’t eaten at him, but nothing could have been furthest from the truth. He wouldn’t have pulled the trigger if there had been any other way. Carl simply mattered more to him. The only thing keeping him grounded was the thunder that steadily started to roll every couple of minutes. As she mentioned the basement, his head turned slightly to get a better look at her. He could tell there was something about the basement that bothered her. Curious, he swallowed the food in his mouth before taking a drink of the water. It was room temperature, and it wasn’t refreshing at all, but it did help to fill the emptiness of his belly. “I can check it out and see what’s down there,” he offered. As she offered to help chop trees, he had no doubt that she could carry her own weight if needed. He nodded quickly until the word we slipped out into the air between them. He kept his eyes on his plate for a long moment before he cut his eyes to her. “So you’re thinkin’ maybe I could hang 'round a bit?” He almost added, 'long term’ but decided to keep that to himself for the time being.

Biting the inside of her cheek in order to not giggle at the sounds Shane's stomach was producing, Kyleigh simply nodded at his apology. There was nothing wrong with being hungry especially when one never knew if they're next meal was coming. So to eat more than once over the span of a few days was probably feeling like a luxury to him. Which felt nice for the half lycan, though she wouldn't admit that out loud. Instead she shoved her own food in her mouth and thanked whomever was responsible for her finding those few cans the last time she went out on a search.

The image of the man sitting next to her clad in overalls finally cracked her enough to laugh in front of him, Kyleigh quick to cover her mouth so that no food particles went flying all over the place. Not that the would look bad in them, she just couldn't picture him walking around in them. Unless of course he had a piece of hay hanging out of his mouth and a pitchfork in one of his hands. "No, he just had regular clothes on. A suit in the one, but I think that was their wedding picture. There was a whole family here before but it was empty by the time I found it." Thank God. As much as she knew it had to be done Kyleigh hated putting the dead down, especially the younger ones.

She knew it was odd that she had a thing about the basement, a half lycan wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything. But the ones she had been in with the exception of her childhood home just gave her the creeps and the smells were none too pleasant either. "Thanks, that would be nice. If you find anything useful feel free to bring it up." Kyleigh had only did a check for the dead before running back up the stairs and slamming the door shut. So anything could be down there just waiting for one of them to get their hands on it.

And there you go dumbass, your entire plan just went to shit because of your big mouth! Closing her eyes in frustration at the slip of words, though she had meant them, Kyleigh quieted the wolf's voice in her head before placing her almost empty plate on the table in front of her. "Well you haven't killed me yet or tempted me to kill you so I don't see the harm in you hanging around. Your giant ass can reach the places I can't and it's always better to have another set of eyes to watch your back out there." Cautiously she brought her eyes to meet Shane's, tearing them away a few moments later when she felt like she was looking just a bit too long.

@wexarethewalkingxdead

[fangswbenefits]

just a few random thoughts on The Arrangement Astarion (cw: mentions of past abuse and trauma)

The way abuse can warp someone for life is often overlooked. This isn't just a journey about him dealing with intimacy (in all its forms) but also how to do it in spite of everything he went through. Putting up walls and not letting her in, but feeling the need to resort to sarcasm and to being snarky cause the vulnerability that comes with it is just too much to handle. She has already seen the ugly yet he keeps doing it, because when you've doing it for so long it becomes second nature and it's hard to unlearn this behaviour. How can people stay when they've seen the ugly? Well, some people do stay because they have seen the ugly and their love for you surpasses that. They'd ve damned if they allowed that to change their opinion of you.

However, this doesn't have be a life sentence for him. He can learn and better himself alongside her if he so chooses. There will be good days. There will be bad days. But the constant will be her by his side. And this isn't about anyone getting fixed. There are other ways to heal. Are those healthy, though? But still, no matter how uncertain things are, he can count on her love as a constant that can help him love the parts of him that he has grown to hate.

Is it easy? Does it happen overnight? Probably not. But there's always hope. There is always a way out. Even when he dissociates. Even when he's fearful of getting more intimate with her. Even when he remembers that she chose friendship over something else - it's never easy to be shown what you need to see instead of what you want to see. Astarion falls into this constant dichotomy and I think it's worth exploring 🫂

[xothatnerdykid]

read your mind

You’re a newly minted pro-hero with a quirk that lets you to read the mind of anyone you touch. So imagine your surprise when you accidentally read a certain stoic, brooding hero's mind and find out he doesn't hate you like you thought, but rather, something dangerously close to the opposite.

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x fem!reader. NSFW but not very explicit. 5,002 words.

“Your form was sloppy,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You used to cringe when he’d tell you things like that, become sheepish and apologetic. Now, after months of knowing him, you'd simply smile and quip, “Awww, you watching my saves on the news again?”

You hated bumping into him. He was the reason you tended to leave mission briefings early: the ever-stoic, perpetually unimpressed Pro Hero Eraserhead.

As a relatively new hero working in the same city, you were thrilled at the chance to learn from someone as experienced as him. But your excitement quickly dimmed the first time you met as you noticed his gruff demeanor and critical, scrutinizing gaze.

You knew he was tough on everyone, but there were times when it felt like his criticism was directed at you more than anyone else. And no matter how hard you tried or how much praise everyone else gave you, he always found something to correct.

So, for the sake of keeping your self-esteem intact, you’ve resorted to treating his criticism like a game, teasing him back whenever he dropped one of his classic deadpan remarks. It was either that or crumble under the weight of his seemingly endless disapproval.

But today, all you can muster is a grunt in response, head throbbing from fatigue and chronic sleep deprivation.

“That’s my line,” he says flatly. Because apparently, someone always has to be the cheeky one between the two of you.

“Can we just…” You rub your temple, wincing as the pain spikes. "Can we just not do this today?”

“Are you feeling alright?” His voice loses a bit of its usual sharpness as he steps closer, eyes narrowing in concern. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you huff, waving him off. "Just tired. We can't all function on only ten shots of espresso a day."

"Seven actually. I'm not a maniac. And you don't sound fine."

You roll your eyes, feeling too drained to banter with him. "I said I'm fine. Can you spare me the lecture?"

You mean to walk past him when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, startling you. Suddenly, there’s that familiar buzz in your mind — your quirk activating with the skin-to-skin contact. The headache momentarily takes a backseat as his thoughts flood in.

Is she really okay? She looks like she’s about to collapse.

Why does she always push herself so hard?

You look up at him, eyes wide and unblinking.

He yanks his hand away as if he’d been burned, the flood of his thoughts abruptly cut off. His dark eyes flicker with something—surprise? Guilt? He takes a step back.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice rougher than usual. “Didn’t mean to…”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. How are you supposed to respond to that? All this time, you thought he was just cold, that he only ever saw your flaws. But just now, he…

He was worried about you?

“I—” you start, but your voice falters. He’s still staring at you, his expression carefully guarded again.

“I’ll see you around. Feel better." His voice is clipped, betraying none of the thoughts you just heard. The words sound so casual, so dismissive, that for a moment you wonder if you imagined it all.

You want to say something to break the tension between you, but you're suddenly nervous. Your heart races, pounding with the weight of this new knowledge. Before you can compose yourself, another hero calls his name, and he mutters a quick response before leaving.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

You promised yourself you were going to avoid him like the plague.

Later that day, when you were tossing and turning in bed, still overthinking your last encounter — you promised. You even came up with (what seemed to you) a solid game plan: You were going to focus on hero work so much that you won’t even have the time to think about him, much less see him.

But the mission had gone from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.

What was supposed to be a simple recon had turned into a full-on chase through the streets when the criminal you'd been tracking for weeks unexpectedly showed up at the deal you were sent to bust. Orders be damned, you vaulted over the rooftop ledge and ran after them.

You leaped across buildings, adrenaline spurring you on. Your mind was focused, heart pounding in rhythm with your footfalls. You’d chased this villain twice before, and both times, they’d slipped through your fingers. You weren’t about to let that happen again.

The villain was fast, but so were you. With each bound, you closed the gap, watching as they darted into a narrow alleyway below. This was your chance. Your heart surged as you prepared to drop down and cut them off.

Suddenly, a figure descended from the shadows, blocking your target from your sight. Your stomach dropped.

Of course it was him.

"Stay back. This is too dangerous for you to handle alone.” His voice was firm and authoritative. Even with the goggles on, you could feel his dark eyes trained on you with that same stern expression you’d come to dread.

"Dangerous? I've been on this case longer than you have!”

You stepped forward but so did he.

“I said stay back,” he warned you. “Don’t be reckless. He’s already evaded you twice, and now he’s cornered. Desperate villains do desperate things.”

“He’s getting away! You’re ruining my chance to finally catch him!”

“And you’ll get yourself killed,” Aizawa snapped. “I’m not going to let a rookie run into a trap.”

Anger flared in your chest. You knew he didn’t respect you, hadn’t from the start. Always criticizing, always watching with that disapproving scowl. You try to push past him, but it’s no use. He’s stronger than you, and maybe even more stubborn.

“Wait here and let me handle it,” Aizawa growled, his voice low and commanding. His scarf moved like a serpent around him, a silent warning that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it if you pushed any further.

You clenched your fists but did as you were told. Much to your frustration, the villain was apprehended quickly after that. You watched from the rooftop, fuming as Aizawa cornered them with ease, his scarf tangling around the villain's limbs like it was second nature. Within minutes, the situation was over, and backup arrived to escort the criminal away.

You stayed put, your heart still racing with the adrenaline of the chase and the frustration of being sidelined once again. The cool night breeze did little to calm your heated emotions. It wasn’t fair. You’d been so close, only for him to swoop in like you were some rookie who couldn’t handle their own mission.

Now, you watch as he finishes giving his statement to the police and then make his way towards you.

You cross your arms tightly, readying yourself for whatever critique he’d throw your way this time. But when he stops in front of you, he doesn’t say anything right away. He simply takes off his goggles and looks at you.

His silence is almost worse than his usual condescending remarks. When he finally speaks, his voice is gravelly, strained. More measured than you expected.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. "I…I'm fine," you answer, maybe a bit too defensively.

Aizawa's eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he’s about to call you out for your tone. But he just stares at you, his expression as unreadable as ever.

You shift on your feet, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. The silence stretches between you both, heavy and awkward, until he exhales and rubs the back of his neck.

"Good," he mutters, his voice softening just slightly, but there’s something behind his eyes—a flicker of something you can’t quite place. His hand lowers back to his side, and as it brushes yours for the briefest moment, something happens.

Skin contact.

Before you can stop it, his thoughts are bleeding into yours, loud and clear.

I should’ve handled that better. She probably thinks I hate her…

Dammit, I don’t want her to hate me.

Your breath catches in your throat. A rush of emotions flood your mind: frustration, concern. Genuine fear.

She doesn’t need to prove herself to me. She’s already good enough. More than good enough.

Heat floods your face, your pulse quickening. He… cares? Before you can process it fully, the connection snaps. A sudden coldness washes over you as your quirk is forcibly erased.

Aizawa’s eyes lock onto yours, his irritation visible in the sharpness of his gaze and the tight line of his mouth.

"I…I didn't mean to," you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something like uncertainty flickers in his expression, and his hair falls down in waves as he shuts off his quirk, too. His jaw tightens but his brow furrows as though he’s trying to decide what to say.

“I...know you didn’t,” he finally says, his voice low and rough.

You flinch, guilt bubbling up in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmur again, dropping your gaze to the ground. You didn’t want to invade his mind, but now you couldn’t unhear what you’d discovered.

Just like before, he turns to leave.

“Wait—” you blurt out, reaching for him instinctively. You don’t know what you’re going to say, but you can’t just let him leave like this. Not again.

He pauses, half-turning to glance at you over his shoulder. Your heart is pounding in your ears. The words are there, but they feel jumbled in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling through your mind.

“I—I didn’t know. About any of it.”

Your eyes search his face for any sign of what he’s thinking, but his expression remains impassive. You fight back the urge to touch him.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” you admit in a small voice.

Aizawa heaves a sigh. His hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose, and for the first time, you notice how tired he looks; exhausted, worn down in a way that makes him seem more human, less the untouchable figure you’ve always seen him as.

“I’m not trying to be hard on you,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer now, the anger draining away. “But you don’t always think things through, and that’s dangerous. You’re talented. You don’t need to prove anything to me or anyone else.”

His words surprise you, and you look up, meeting his gaze again. There’s no scowl, no biting critique, just honesty. You swallow hard, feeling an odd mix of warmth and discomfort settle in your chest.

Before you can think better of it, your hand moves instinctively, brushing against his arm. You freeze, realizing what you’ve done, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. And though he has every opportunity to, he doesn’t erase your quirk either.

I’m too close to her. The thought is faint, hesitant. She’s already in my head… and it’s getting harder to push her away.

Your breath catches in your throat. He’s not just frustrated with you — he’s frustrated with himself.

You pull your hand back, not wanting to intrude further.

You don’t know what you expect to see on his face; surprise maybe, or even anger. But for the first time since you’ve met him, you see something warmer in his eyes — something that sends a flutter through your chest.

Aizawa takes a half-step closer and your pulse quickens at the proximity. Then, in a voice so soft it’s almost a secret, he murmurs, “Don’t make me worry like that again.”

“I won’t,” you manage to whisper, your heart caught in your throat.

He takes a step back, as if remembering himself, and his usual stern demeanor slips back into place.

“Go home. Get some rest.”

You nod, still too flustered to speak. The warmth of his touch lingers long after he's gone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

It’s well past midnight, the city quiet except for the soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional sound of wind rustling through the streets. Your patrol route brings you to the edge of a quiet park, where you catch a familiar figure standing in the shadows, keeping watch.

“You really like brooding in the dark, don’t you?" You smile at him from over your shoulder, though your usual sarcasm is gone.

“It's my favorite pastime,” he deadpans, but you don't miss the way his dark eyes hold yours a beat too long.

“Right,” you snicker. “The city’s most stoic hero. I bet you even scowl in your sleep.”

Aizawa’s lips twitch, the tiniest of smirks threatening to break through. “You can’t prove that.”

"Oh?” You smile sweetly, batting your eyelashes for good measure. “Something tells me I can.”

His gaze sharpens slightly, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s about to call you out on your teasing. But instead, he steps closer, his tall frame looming over you.

“You’re bold tonight,” he says, his tone somewhere between amused and intrigued. “Careful, I might start thinking you’re actually enjoying my company.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling any wider. “And what if I am?”

He steps just a fraction closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in the cool night air. His voice is low and smooth when he says, “Then I’d have to wonder what it is you think you’re getting yourself into.”

The air between you thickens, the playful banter now laced with something a little more dangerous, a little more exciting.

“You know, I could buy you a coffee sometime,” you offer, hoping to diffuse some of the tension, keep the conversation light. “To say thanks for helping me out with that last mission.”

He pretends to mull it over but, before you can react, he reaches out and grabs the coffee cup you’re holding. He takes a deliberately long sip, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

When he lowers the cup, he meets your gaze with a half-lidded look that sends your pulse racing.

“Consider it done.”

Your face feels impossibly warm now, and you’re sure your blush is painfully obvious, but you manage to keep your voice steady as you quip, “An indirect kiss? Maybe you’re the one who needs to be careful, or else other people will start getting the wrong idea.”

With a low laugh, he hands the cup back to you, and the subtle brush of his fingers against yours sets off another wave of his thoughts.

I wonder if she realizes how much I want her.

Your breath catches.

For a split second, you think you might’ve misheard it, but the heat in Aizawa’s gaze as he watches your reaction tells you otherwise. The cup is back in your hand, but your fingers are numb. Your focus is entirely on him, his thoughts still rattling around in your mind.

His lips twitch again. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he teases, his voice low, almost a purr. “What’s going on up there? Something I should know about?”

You swallow hard, trying to gather your composure. He’s looking at you like he’s daring you to admit what you heard.

You take a deep breath and decide to play along. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you always flirt this shamelessly.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Your heart is racing now, fingers trembling around the cup in your hand. His gaze is dark and intense. Unwavering. He's looking at you like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you and he’s enjoying it.

Your quirk had always been a double-edged sword; sometimes it revealed things you wished you hadn’t known, and other times it brought clarity to situations that seemed hopelessly opaque.

This time, it left you with a dilemma.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts. He’s close enough now that you can feel the warmth of him, his presence overwhelming but not uncomfortable. “Since you’re already in my head…why stop now?”

Your breath hitches. His invitation is dangerous, yet impossible to resist. There are a dozen reasons why you shouldn’t — you work together, it’s an invasion of privacy, you hated his guts just a few weeks ago — but the temptation is too strong, his presence too intoxicating.

Hesitantly, your fingers brush against his once more, and his thoughts flood in again, more intense and vivid this time.

She’s braver than I thought. I like that.

I shouldn’t be doing this. But damn, I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she looks at me…

“Good girl,” he cooes, his voice a low rumble that sends a flutter of excitement through you.

You feel lightheaded, dizzy with the weight of his thoughts, the tension between you at a boiling point. You swallow hard, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the way Aizawa’s eyes are fixed on you — dark, intense, hungry — it’s making it hard to think straight. He wants you to know. He wants you to feel what he’s feeling.

And you do.

You feel everything.

His desire is a palpable thing, hanging in the air between you, electric and heady. You can see it in the way his gaze lingers on your lips, the way his breath hitches ever so slightly when you lean in.

“Hardly seems fair. I don't get to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” His voice dips lower, enough to send another wave of heat crashing over you. “Are you going to keep me guessing?”

Your voice wavers slightly, but you manage to respond, “I’m not sure you’re ready for what’s in my head.”

He chuckles, a dark, low sound that makes your stomach flip. “You might be surprised.”

You can barely breathe as he brushes the back of his hand against your jaw, his thumb pressing lightly on the corner of your mouth. You feel his thoughts ripple through you again, even stronger this time.

I want her. God, I want her so badly…

Your knees feel weak, and it takes everything in you not to lose yourself completely in the moment, in him. The tension between you feels unbearable now, as if one wrong move could send you both over the edge. And you’re not sure how much longer either of you can hold back.

Aizawa smirks, just a hint of satisfaction flickering in his expression.

I could kiss her right now. It would be so easy.

The thought lingers between you, thick and heavy, and you can’t tell if it’s yours or his anymore. All you know is that just the idea of his lips on yours is making your entire body hum with anticipation.

Aizawa watches you carefully, as if waiting for your reaction. He knows you heard him, and he’s not backing down.

You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. “Go ahead then,” your own voice sounds small and distant to your ears, but it’s enough to tip the balance.

His lips are on yours in a second.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters, but it quickly deepens as the tension that had been building between you finally breaks. His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer, and you feel his thoughts rushing through you again.

God, she tastes even better than I imagined.

Your knees nearly buckle, and you can barely focus on anything except the way his lips feel against yours — firm, warm, demanding yet tender. He’s kissing you like he’s been holding back for far too long.

When you finally pull back for air, your heart is pounding, your breath shaky. Aizawa’s forehead rests gently against yours, his eyes half-closed as he catches his own breath. His thumb brushes lightly over your cheek, a small, affectionate gesture that has you smiling up at him in a tizzy.

“Still think I hate you?” he murmurs, his voice low and full of heat as he slides his hands into the curve of your waist.

You laugh softly, pulling him closer by his scarf. “I think I might need a little more convincing.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

The days that follow your little late night tryst at the park are deliciously unbearable.

It’s as if you don’t know how to be around him anymore. There's tension during training sessions. The gym hums with its usual energy, but you can’t focus. Not with him in the room. You’re sparring with someone, half-heartedly dodging and throwing punches, but your mind is elsewhere, replaying the feel of Aizawa’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you.

Across the room, he’s speaking to a group of trainees, the same unreadable, stoic expression in place. But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes when they briefly meet yours, a look only you recognize.

Your opponent lands a hit on your shoulder and you nearly stumble. You grit your teeth and bring yourself back to the present moment. When the sparring session ends, you grab a bottle of water and try to catch your breath.

He walks over to where you’re sitting off to the side, seemingly doing the same. His voice is low enough so only you can hear. "You're distracted."

You flush, struggling to keep your expression impassive. “And what if I am?”

“Focus, or I’ll have to give you some private training later.”

His words are a promise, dripping with intent, and your blood sings. You can’t find a response quick enough before he’s already pulling away, leaving you flushed and even more distracted.

It’s not much better during night patrol, when the city streets are dimly lit and mostly empty. Although the two of you are supposed to be overseeing different sectors, you know when you turn a corner into a dark alley that he's following silently, closely behind.

You walk deeper into the alley, pretending to scan the area, but the quiet crunch of his footsteps has your heart racing. Just as you’re about to turn back, a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you into the shadows, away from prying eyes.

You open your mouth to say something, but he’s already on you, crashing his lips against yours.

“You’re making—it hard—for me—to concentrate,” he murmurs between kisses, each word punctuated by the soft graze of his mouth against yours. His hands press against your hips, pinning you gently yet firmly to the wall, and a wave of heat spreads through you.

Suddenly, an image flashes in your mind: him trailing his mouth downwards until he’s on his knees, hooking your leg over his shoulder and eating you out. A thought that isn’t your own.

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back, though there’s no real bite to it. If anything, your voice is barely steady. “You’re supposed to be patrolling your own area.”

He runs his fingers along your jaw. "And let you wander into dark alleys alone?" He leans in, lips brush against your ear, nibbling. "Not a chance."

He crooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth and lips lingering just enough to make you gasp.

I want to taste you. All of you, he thinks. I want you to make a mess on my face, on my fingers, and then lick it clean.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug. He presses you harder against the wall, and it’s dizzying, intoxicating—

Until the sharp crackle of comms cuts through the haze.

“Report. Any activity?”

You both freeze, breaths mingling, still pressed close. His eyes flick to yours, and there’s a hint of amusement dancing in them.

“Nothing to report,” he says, voice calm and collected as if he hadn’t just been kissing you senseless a moment ago.

You look up at him, dazed and wanting, heart pounding. He tilts his head at you and you realize they’re expecting a response from you, too.

“N-no activity here either,” you manage despite the tightness of your throat.

The comms fall silent once more. Aizawa is looking at you through half-lidded eyes and a self-satisfied smirk. You hate him as much as you really don't.

“We should get back to our routes before someone decides to check on us," he murmurs.

“Oh, so now you’re concerned about protocol?” You arch an eyebrow at him, though you’re sure your flushed cheeks betray any semblance of teasing bravado.

"For now." He leans down to brush the shell of your ear with his lips. "But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just break a few more rules.”

A few days later, you find yourselves seated across from each other during a mission debriefing. The room is full of other pro heroes, but it might as well be empty for all the attention you’re paying to anyone else.

Your thoughts scramble every time Aizawa's knee brushes against yours beneath the table. He, on ther hand, is the picture of composure, listening to the debrief with his usual detached focus.

This meeting’s dragging. I can think of better ways to pass the time with you.

You try to focus on the mission details, but half way through, he moves his hand atop your thigh and you shiver.

How long do you think it’d take if we just slipped out, right now?

You steal a glance at him, and there’s the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes when they meet yours.

You force yourself to look down at your notes, but your mind is elsewhere, his presence impossibly distracting. Fuck it, you think before you slide your foot up his calf.

He sputters a cough, a rare crack in his usually unshakable composure, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. Under the table, his hand tightens on your thigh, his grip firm, almost possessive, and the thrill of it has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Keep doing that and I won’t be responsible for what happens after this.

As the meeting draws to a close, everyone rises to leave, and Shota gives you a barely perceptible nod toward the hallway. You follow at a careful distance until you reach his office, entering a good few minutes after he does so as not to arouse suspicion.

He backs you gently against the door as he locks it behind you, his gaze pinning you in place. His eyes are dark and stormy, with that half-focused look you’ve come to love so much. When he speaks, his voice is soft, a murmur meant only for you. “You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”

You smile up at him sweetly then tip-toe to give him a soft, lingering kiss. "You’re the one who can’t seem to keep things professional,” you coo, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, teasing.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Is that so? Funny, I don’t remember you objecting."

“Of course not,” you confess breathlessly, head thrown back in pleasure as you tug at his hair. You can’t make out the sound of your own voice over the blood thumping in your ears. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined us doing inappropriate things in your office?”

Your words seem to snap the last of his restraint.

A low growl escapes him, and before you know it, he’s gripping your hips and lifting you just enough to press the hardness of his length against you. You gasp. His mouth finds yours with a raw, pent-up hunger that has you clinging to his shoulders, heart racing wildly.

“And here I was, thinking I was the only one losing sleep over this,” he murmurs between kisses, tugging your bottom lip gently between his teeth.

He pulls you flush against him as his tongue explores your mouth, and you trail your hands down his chest and the ridges of his abdomen just as eagerly. You grind your hips down on his erection and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, his warm, rough hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “You’re lucky we’re alone.” His tone is half-warning, half-promise, and you can feel his heartbeat racing beneath your hands.

"I know somewhere we wouldn't have to worry about being interrupted," you tell him breathlessly. “My place. Tonight. If you’re up for it.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "I'll clear my schedule.”

[sturniholo]

the only exception - matt sturniolo

in which matt shows the reader what love should look like

matt x fem reader !

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

The sound of my mother’s screams ricocheted off the walls as I lay in bed. This was a sound I was all too familiar with, as it happened almost every night. My dad would do or say something to upset my mom, which resulted in a big argument.

However, tonight was worse than it had ever been. The sound of my parents' bedroom door slamming made me shoot up from my bed. Loud steps could be heard going down the stairs. I could hear cries in the hallway, making me get out of bed.

My mom stood at the top of the stairs, mascara running down her face. My heart broke as I heard her sobs. She always held herself together, putting on a tough front for her kids, but tonight she just couldn’t.

Instinctively, I made my way over to her, making her immediately wipe her tears. She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me into her side. She sniffled loudly, occasionally letting out a soft cry.

My dad on the other hand packed a bag and made his way down the road. He was too angry to be at home and needed to get away. He had done this before, so it wasn’t shocking. He was never gone for long, and would usually come back the next day. But this was the final straw.

It had been a whole week and he still didn’t come home. I then learned that my parents had split up that night. Ever since then, I could finally sleep at night, with no interruptions from either of them.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

I stared off at the wall as my older sister leaned on my shoulder, letting out gut-wrenching sobs. Her boyfriend of two years had cheated on her, which obviously made her upset.

My hand rested on her back, rubbing soothing circles on her skin. Her tears rapidly fell on my shirt, creating a wet patch, but I didn’t mind. She needed a shoulder to cry on, so of course I was there for her.

In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what led to this. They had seemed like the perfect couple. He was always at the house, cuddled up on the couch with her. The picture of her waltzing around the house, waiting for him to pick her up for their date entered my mind.

But there she sat, crying her eyes out over him. Letting tears fall from her eyes and snot drip from her nose as she let it all out.

From that point on, I didn’t allow myself to get into a relationship. I pushed away any feelings I developed for anyone if I even allowed myself to develop those feelings. And I was quite content with that, as other things in life brought me happiness.

I stuck to this philosophy for years, until something changed. During my senior year, I met a guy. His name was Matt. We sat beside each other in history class, which we both found boring. However, we quickly became good friends, which made history class something to look forward to.

As the school year progressed, I found myself developing feelings for him. I tried my absolute best to push them away, but as soon as he flashed me a smile, they all came rushing back.

Soon, prom season came around. All of my friends were excited. They couldn’t wait to dress up, go out to eat, and slow dance with their date. But on the other hand, I couldn’t care less. I thought prom was a waste of time, especially if you went with a date.

However, Matt convinced me to go to prom with him. And safe to say, it was the most fun I have had in a long time. We danced all night, occasionally sneaking off to steal food from the snack table or take pictures in the photo booth.

A few months later, I came to a terrifying realization. I liked Matt. A scary amount. Due to these feelings, I began to distance myself. I would decline hangouts or leave him on read for a few days.

Eventually, this caught up with me. One day he came to my house, quite aggravated. I remember it as clear as day.

I quickly jogged down the stairs, making my way to the front door. I pulled it open, revealing Matt. He wore a slightly aggravated expression, making me knit my brows. “Matt, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? You haven’t answered me in three days and you wonder why I’m here?” He pushes past me, leaving me dumbfounded. I close the door and follow him into my living room.

He’s sitting on the couch, leaning forward. I sit on the other end of the couch, keeping a good distance between us. “You can’t even sit near me. Seriously, what’s going on with you?” He looks over at me with a hurt expression, making me feel awful.

“I’m scared,” my voice breaks as I speak.

“Why?”

I look away from him, turning my attention towards my lap. “Because I like you so much it scares me.” I felt a hand on my thigh, causing me to look over to him.

“You shouldn’t be afraid because I like you too. It’s been killing me that you’ve been ignoring me, y/n.” As his words sunk in, my heart couldn’t help but pound. To hear those words took a huge weight off my shoulders.

A few weeks later, Matt asked me out on a date. To say I was excited was an understatement, but I still had my worries. What if it all went wrong? What if I never spoke to him again after tonight? Those thoughts ran through my mind as I got ready.

As our date came to an end, I couldn’t help but smile. I had the best time tonight. Matt picked me up and took me to my favorite restaurant. He paid and even ordered me a dessert.

Now here we were, back at his car. I was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window when I felt a hand on my leg. I turned to look at Matt, a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

“I had a great time tonight.” His hand moved up my leg, resting on my thigh. As he began to caress the skin, I couldn’t help but ease into his touch.

I gazed into his eyes, allowing myself to get lost in them. “Me too.” My eyes flickered down to his lips, making him smirk.

Before I knew it, he was leaning in. He placed his lips on mine, his hand gripping my thigh. My hand found his jaw, my lips moving on his. As we kissed, I couldn’t help but smile.

He pulled away, a big grin on his face. “Be my girlfriend,” he blurted. My eyes widened at his words. “Please,” he breathed out.

I thought for a moment, my mind racing. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Matt.”

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

That night changed my life for the better. It’s exactly why I’m in the position I am now.

My eyes slowly fluttered open as the sun peaked in through the curtain. I stirred around in bed before slowly sitting up. My movements were constrained as I felt Matt’s tight grip around me. His arm was wrapped around my waist, keeping me close to him.

I couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at him. He was peacefully sleeping, his mouth slightly open, allowing soft snores to escape. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He stirred beneath me, his eyes slowly opening. A yawn left his lips as he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. “Good morning, baby,” he said as he pulled me into his side.

“Good morning, babe.” He placed a kiss on my forehead, making me smile. I watched as he sat up, pulling the covers off of his body.

“I’m gonna make us some breakfast. Pancakes sound good?” I gave him a nod. I watched as he left the room, a smile on my face.

Simple things like that remind me how lucky I am to have Matt. Had I let my fears get the best of me, I would have missed out on love others spend their whole life searching for.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: shoutout to all the girlies with divorced parents and a fear of intimacy…😭 ily

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#3 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Azriel finds the guy that sold Cassandra. Lots of bonding happens with Cassandra, Azriel and other members of the IC. Slight cliffhanger.

Warnings/Tags: mentions/implied rape. Mention past sexual abuse. Mentions pregnancy from rape. Slow burn. Violence. Brief victim blaming. Found family. Protective!azriel. Protective!IC. GRAMMER ERRORS—I plan on going back to edit this please don’t judge me too hard I’m gonna have a busy week and just really wanted to get this posted for y’all🩵

Authors Note: all reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter. Regular italics are inner thoughts and bold italics are mental communication.

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Azriel stands in the darkness of night watching. Waiting. Body thrumming with anger. Calm cold anger. The kind that got people killed if they didn’t give him what he was looking for.

Only moments after Cassandra’s departure had his shadow returned to him. Telling him where to find this Vale. This horrid male who was taking females away from their family and selling them off—profiting off of them like livestock.

He sees the male, recognizes him from the briefs flash of memory Cassandra let slip at dinner, the one where this mad had choked her, slammed her against the wall just for needing to use the restroom.

The male is loading something up in the back of a wagon, the building behind him dark and dingy. Azriel let his shadows take him closer. Closer. Until he was standing in the alley between this man's house and another. The smell was horrid, small creatures scurrying about looking for their meal for the evening.

The male retreats into the building and Azriel lets a shadow loose to follow him—to be his eyes inside of this building. Inside is just as dark and dingy and piled high to the roof with…stuff. The blue skinned male navigates the maze of boxes and bins and trash with ease. He seems to be the only one here but Azriel knew better so he waits following the man through the seemingly endless maze.

That’s when he hears it, his shoulders going tight, his jaw clenching. Crying—no sobbing. A girl begging to be left alone as the male grabs her and pins her down to the floor.

“Fuck,” he growls. He pounds his fist against the outside of the building, taking chucks of the stone out. It’s loud enough to distract the man, to get him away from that girl as he rushed from the room under the floor, locking the locks and coming out. Looking around wildly for the source of the sound.

Azriel winnows, leaning against the wagon the man had been loading before, whistling to get the man attention. He whirls around, black eyes narrowed in anger, freezing in place when they land on him.

“Shadowsinger?” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at Azriel. “What brings you to these parts?”

Azriel looks him over, the smell of shit, piss and rot was overwhelming even from this distance.

“Vale,” Azriel says, to let the male know he knows who he is, rightfully see the fear in his eyes. “I’m looking for something and I hear you’re the one to help me.”

“I ain’t got nothing you need, pretty boy,” Vale sneers, crossing his arms, looking Azriel over. Trying to come off as tough but it’s actually laugh-able.

“Are you sure?” Azriel asks, pushing off the wagon. Letting his wings spread wide, walking closer, towering over the male. “See, I’ve got this female telling me you bought her from her dad and sold her to a pleasure house. I mean, tell me I’m wrong, man. I’ve just gotta check on these things. It’s a pretty serious accusation and all.”

“That chick’s got the wrong guy. I would never do something like that. These bitches are always trying to get us males in trouble,” Vale said, seeming to relax. Big mistake.

“You think so? Just tell me if you know her man. About this tall, really pretty, tan skin, white hair. Wings.” Azriel growls the last word, the man’s eyes widening again, taking a step back.

“Look, man, it’s not like that. Her dad owed me money, so he gave me her instead cause he couldn’t afford to pay me back, okay? So I didn’t technically buy her,” He stammered out, trying to explain himself.

“Oh,” Azriel said, nodding his head. “Well, I mean, if you didn’t technically buy her then no law was broken.”

“That’s right!” The male nods, sighing in relief. “No law was broken, man. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that—”

“Yeah. I get it,” Azriel nods, shifting. Looking towards the building, then back to the low life in front of him. “And that female inside? Did you buy her? Is she here of her own free will allowing you to rape her daily?”

“Fuck,” Vale whispers, turning and running down the cobble stone road. Azriel stands there watching, a grin stretching his lips as he lets the male think he’s getting away.

“Send Morrigan,” He calls out to Rhys as he watches the male.

“She’s coming.”

Then he's gone again, just as Vale looks over his shoulder to try and spot him, only to smack hard into a body that came out of nowhere. He looks at the shadowsinger towering over him, swallowing thickly.

“What do you want from me?” The male nearly cried out as Azriel grabbed him and pulled him up, slamming his face first into a stone wall. The resounding crunch of his nose breaking is ever satisfying.

“Her name is Cassandra,” Azriel snarls into the man's ear. “She told us what you did to her. What you did to that female you have locked in that disgusting building. We know there’s more girls. We will find them all and when we do, I’ll let each one take a turn with you. Their weapon of choice. And you’ll feel exactly what they felt.”

“Ple-please. Please, just kill me,” The man begged, fighting in Azriel’s grasp but he was no match for Azriel’s strength.

“And what kind of justice would that be? Did you stop when those girls begged you to? Did you give them death with they would have preferred that over you using their bodies?” Azriel asked, scenting the smell of urine as the man pissed himself. “You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you.”

Before the pathetic excuse of a male could beg or plead any more Azriel grabbed the back of his head, smashing it into the wall, letting him fall unconscious to the ground. He left him there binded and hidden by shadows, stalking back to the building where he spotted Morrigan easily.

“Don’t tell me this is where he’s been keeping those poor girl?” She asked when she spotted him approaching.

“Unfortunately, I think it is. She said under his house but he could live here. I’ll question him more. I know there’s at least one female inside,” Azriel explained, guiding Morrigan into the building. Be could get the female on his own but he knew it was safer to have a female companion—after all they’d been through the least he could do was make sure a female was the one to comfort them.

They get to that basement floor, unlocking the various locks and pulling the hatch open. It’s as dark and dingy down here as it was in the rest of the building. Morrigan enters first, taking Azriel’s hand to steady herself on the old wobbly stairs.

“Your wings won’t fit down here,” She said, hushed. He nods at her. “Send a shadow if I call for help.” It’s said jokingly but he knows she’s serious. He’d rip the floor from this building to help her if she needed it.

Mor squinted her eyes in the dimness of the sellar, resisting the urge to plug her nose from the horrid smell.

“Hello? Is anyone down here?” She calls out, looking up from at Azriel when there’s no reply. “Hello, my name is Morrigan. I work for the High Lord. The male keeping you here is—”

Morrigan’s cut off when I body slams into hers, knocking her to the ground. She cries out in surprise when a sharp sting slices across her cheek.

“Stop, hey, stop! I’m here to help!” Mor calls out, trying to catch the hands of the female fae on top of her.

“Mor!” Azriel’s deep voice calls.

“I’ve got it!” Mor calls back, grabbing the girls wrists. “Please, stop! Vale is gone! He can’t hurt you, please, stop!”

The girl stops fighting then still tense where she’s straddling Morrigan’s middle section.

“He’s gone?” She whispers and Mor nods.

“Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more. I swear,” She promises. Eyes finally able to take in the sight before her.

A fragile, naked, malnourished body sits atop her. Eyes not only shut but scarred as if they’d been cut—maybe by the same person that took Cassandra’s tongue. But what really got Morrigan, what had her ready to lose the contents of her stomach was the rounded belly attached to that nearly skeleton body. Her eyes welled and she helped the female to shift off of her body.

“Are you pregnant?” Mor whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking as the female nods.

“Please, don’t let him take this one too,” She cries, reaching out to find Morrigan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me I get to keep my baby.”

“I promise, no one is going to take your baby away from you,” Morgan swears, a single tear falling down her cheek. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”

“Neema, my name is Neema,” She answers and Mors eyes widen. The girl Cassandra told them about.

“You and your baby are safe, Neema. We’re gonna take you away from here, okay?” Morrigan says, standing and helping the pregnant female stand as well.

“I have my friend Azriel here too, he will not touch you, he’s only here to make sure no further harm comes to you. He’s handing me a cloak for you to wear,” Morrigan explains so the female doesn’t feel uncomfortable. She nods, allowing Mor to wrap the cloak around her.

“Are there any other females here?” Azriel asks gently, wishing he hadn’t with the way she clenched at the deep mess of it.

“Not—not that I know of. The females come and go. There’s been no others for months…” Neema answers, grasping the fabric tighter around her body.

Azriel and Mor share a look the last females had to have been Cassandra and the other two she mentioned.

“I’ll stay and check the building before I head back,” Azriel informed, consciously softening his voice so as not to scare the female again.

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Morrigan winnows away with Neema and Azriel searches every inch of the building with his shadows. No signs of any other females. He leaves the building, needing to relieve himself of the horrible stench.

He retrieves the still bound and unconscious male, winnowing him to his dungeon. He strips him, places a gag in his mouth, dumps him into a chair and binds him to it. He would be dealt with later.

The sun would be rising soon and he wanted to be there when they informed Cassandra they found the male and the female—her friend?

He enters Rhys' study, Cassian and Mor there too.

“How is she?” He asks, glancing at Morrigan then his brother.

“Resting,” Rhys answers. “Madja looked her over. Thankfully the baby seems healthy, Madja’s main concern is getting Neema to gain some weight and begin healing herself.”

“We offered her to live amongst the priestesses in the library, she agreed,” Morrigan said, her brown eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed.

“Good, that’s all good, they’ll help her heal,” Azriel nods his head crossing his arms. “I have the male in my dungeon.”

“Have you gotten any information out of him?” Rhys asks, standing from his desk.

“Not much. He admitted to knowing who Cassandra was, receiving her from her father and holding her. He never admitted to selling her but that information won’t be hard to get out of him,” Azriel explains and Rhys nods in agreement.

“You get whatever information you can out of him and then he’s dead,” Rhys orders, Azriel doesn’t need to confirm he already knew what Rhys decision would be.

“Are we telling Cassandra?” Cassian asks, the first words he’s said the whole time.

“We are. She needs to know he’s here, it may bring her some comfort knowing he’s locked away and Neema is safe. I think you should be the one to talk to her, Azriel,” Rhy says, turning his attention to the shadow singer.

“Me? Not Mor?” Azriel asked, a bit confused.

“Yes, you. She’s comfortable with you. You’re the one that apprehended him. I believe she would prefer to hear it from you,” Rhys nods.

“Okay, I can do that,” Azriel agreed.

“You handle that, I’ve got some business to attend to with the priestesses. We’ll all meet up in a few hours to discuss further action.” Rhys stepped around his desk, patting Azriel’s shoulder when he passed by him.

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An hour goes by before Azriel tracks Cassandra down. Finding her in the library, flipping through a book where she’s sat in the large window seat that overlooked the city below. A steaming cup of tea next to her.

“I thought you couldn’t read?” Azriel asks, leaning against the door frame, grinning when those green eyes meet his.

“I can’t. I’m looking at the pictures,” She said, holding up the book, some romance book from the looks of the two people in a colorful garden.

“Ah,” Azriel says, walking further into the room. Trying not to focus on the way her eyes track up and down his body the closer he gets. He holds his hand out for the book, flipping it over the read the title, snorting at it. “Secret Garden Romance, huh?”

She shrugs, taking the book back.

“I asked the house for a book with a lot of pictures, this is what I got,” She said, a small sweet breathy laugh escaped her lips and he couldn’t help his own smile.

“Did you end up getting some sleep?” He asks, watching her set the book down and grab the warm mug.

“I slept but not great,” She shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about my sisters.”

“We’re gonna do everything we can to find them, I promise you that,” Azriel said, not even waiting for a beat. He would find her sisters and he’d beat the shit out of her father too.

“You know I took my older sister's place. It was supposed to be her he sold off but the way she had cried when he told her. I couldn’t let him do that to her so I told him to take me…I didn’t really know what he meant when he was selling me. I thought I’d be a servant like the ones we had when I was a kid or something. I never thought…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath.

“You’re not to blame for what happened to you. You were protecting your sister. You did a very selfless thing. You're safe now and your sisters will be, too,” Azriel said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her.

“Well, what about you?” Cassandra asked, gently changing the subject. “Did you ever get any sleep?”

Azriel sighed with a head shake. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I came to talk to you.”

Cassandra fixed him with a curious look, leaning forward as if to give him her full attention for whatever he needed to say. He looked into those glowing green eyes, filled with curious concern.

“We found that male. Vale. We found him,” Azriel said, watching the vast range of emotions flash through those emerald eyes.

“He’s here?” Is what she asks, fear tinging her voice. Azriel straightens his back.

“He will not touch you,” he declared, holding her gaze. “He won’t even come near you.”

I’ll fucking kill him if he does. He thinks but doesn’t add it out loud.

“He can’t get out of…wherever he is?” She asks, and he wants to reach out so badly to comfort her. The ache in his chest drawing him to her.

“No. He’s being held in a very secure place. I promise you’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” Azriel promises. You’re safe with me.

“Were there any females with him?” She asks and Azriel nods.

“The girl you told us about, Neema. She was the only one there—it had been only her for months.”

He watches as her eyes fill with tears, offering his hand for her to hold. She takes it, thumb tracing his scars unconsciously.

“Just her…alone with him for months. Gods, is she…I feel like okay isn’t the right word for what I want to ask,” She says, sadness written all over her face.

“She will be okay,” Azriel said. “She’s in bad shape. Pregnant, malnourished but we have an amazing healer and a library below the mountain. Many priestesses live there. Many of them have experienced similar traumas. They’ll help her heal.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head as she sat there silently, grasping his hand and tracing his scars.

“I want him to die.” It’s fierce. Heated. Emotional. And it does something to Azriel’s heart, to his brain. He squeezes her hand. “I want him to feel everything we felt. To know the fear he put us through. I want him to suffer and then I want him to die.”

“He will die. I swear to the Mother. I’ll get every drop of information from him and when it’s time his death will be painful and slow,” Azriel swore, gently swiping a tear from her cheek.

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The next day is a day Cassandra would remember forever. She hadn't slept much the night before but Morrigan had practically begged her to have lunch.

Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for a day out in the city but she felt safe with Morrigan. She nearly asked if Azriel could come too until she learned he would be spending the day collecting information from Kamari and Vale.

Morrigan picked out her outfit for the day and it was one of her favorites she’s worn since being here. A flowy silk top that tucked into a dark pair of slacks that raised high on my hips. They emphasized her longer legs in a way she had never noticed before. She had also pinned Cassandra’s hair up and out of her face.

She liked the way Azriel smiled at her when he saw her dressed this way. She blushed but was quickly rushed away by Morrigan, shouting something about wanting you to herself for the day for girl time.

Their first stop was a place she called the River House. A beautiful home that her mother would have loved. Morrigan had only had them stop here briefly to grab a few tote bags, wanting to shop while they were out but promised to bring her back and give her a proper tour of the house.

The city was even more beautiful when you were in it. The sun was shining bright in an endless blue sky. Better than any dreams she had ever had about it.

They went to bakeries, where Cassandra single handedly filled half a tote with various pastries.

Then a clothing shop where Morrigan helped her pick out some new clothes. A few everyday pieces. A gorgeous gown she wasn’t sure where she would wear it but Morrigan swore she would need it sooner or later. And then the softest, satin, dark blue nightgown—it had reminded her of the stones that glowed atop Azriel’s hands. Morrigan herself had picked out quite a few outfits and gowns of her own and a lace set that looked like something the girls in the pleasure houses would wear but she paid no mind to it—she was sure it would look gorgeous on Morrigan wherever she planned to wear it to.

Then they went to a place near the river for lunch, the glistening river was the perfect view while they ate.

“Do you feel like you’re settling in okay?” Morrigan asked, sipping on some kind of iced fruit tea while they waited for their food.

“I’m still…adjusting. I enjoy the company of everyone. I feel like I can trust you all. It’s just odd.” Cassandra says, taking a drink of her tea that was just slightly too sweet but she wasn’t complaining.

“What’s odd?” Morrigan asks gently.

“Trusting strangers more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else,” She says it like a confession, like she should be ashamed for feeling that way.

“I don’t think that’s odd,” Morrigan shrugged. “You’re around people like you, people you can relate to and get to know. It’s easy to feel safe with us in turn, causing your trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Cassandra smiles at Morrigan.

Their food comes soon after and they talk the whole time. Morrigan gives her the rundown of how Rhys, Azriel and Cassian all knew one another. She explained more about their titles and what each one of them did as a member of the inner circle. She told her about so much that Cassandra could believe she’d spent her whole live knowing practically none of it.

When they go to a bookstore Cassandra looks at a few before putting them back. Morrigan grabs them and tells her they’ll teach her to read—that she’ll love these books and so many more.

And when they finally get back to the House of a Wind it’s late. She's exhausted from carrying around nearly overflowing tote bags and eating more muffins then she can count.

A top the house where they have to land they’re greeted by the three males. Their solemn faces wiping the smile off your face. She caught Azriel’s eyes, sees the look of pure death there—a look that she just knows means he wants to kill someone.

And just like that, her perfect day with Morrigan took a turn straight down hill.

Tag List: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94 @purple-writer8 @little-missbookyworm @saltedcoffeescotch @namelesssav @slytherintaco @whatsupb @little-missbookyworm

[wosoluver]

Can you do a misa x reader where it's readers birthday?

Birthday girl

Misa Rodríguez x reader

Misa Rodriguez Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

It was your birthday week. You were excited to spend your first birthday with your girlfriend and in Madrid. You had moved there months ago.

But every time Misa brought it up, your smile didn't reach your eyes, and you would somehow shut down the conversation. She knew something was wrong, you never shut up about how much you love to celebrate your birthday, and now that it was almost here, you didn't even bother to plan anything.

You had opened up to her, saying how weird it would be to not have your sisters or friends from back home with you. The step to move to Madrid had been a little tough on you, but you knew the importance of becoming more independent and being closer to great job opportunities. She understood how you felt, but she had set her mind into planning the best birthday possible, you deserved more than anyone to have a special day.

"Sofie, have you ordered the cake yet?" - Misa as usual, was taking matters very seriously, like she always did when it came to basically anything she felt like she had to succeed in.

"Calm down I got it, I'll order today" - saying quickly into the phone.

"You haven't yet!?" - annoyed at her friend for struggling at her only task.

"You know, when you said we were throwing a party I thought we were going clubbing or something."

"Your kidding right? I'm already struggling thinking on how I'm going to get her to Raso's apartment for the dinner. And you know she isn't really into people that are not her friends. She wouldn't stand 10 minutes inside a club."

"Right. It's fine, don't worry, we still got like 2 days."

"Two days go by like the blink of an eye"

and it did.

Misa's pov

Okay. It's 7:30 am. I have to get to practice by 8:00 sharp. Leave at 12:00, stop by to get some flowers and a café con leche from her favorite coffee shop. Should be fine. She should be waking up late anyway.

Stoping by the flower shop, I settled for a classic red rose bouquet. Besides being your favorite, they were the prettiest they had. Got the coffee and made my way home.

As soon as I opened the door I saw her laying on the couch, watching yet another episode of her comfort show.

"Good morning mi amor, these are for you..." - handing the bouquet in front of her - "Feliz Cumpleaños baby"

She seemed on a better mood than expected, taking into consideration the last couple of days.

"Buenos dias, guapa!" - jumping up from the couch and giving me a short kiss, taking the roses from my hands - "Thank you so much amor! And coffee?!? God I love you."

"You seem in a good mood, care to share why? Besides the obvious reason?" - looking down at her big smile.

"I sorry I didn't seem so excited the last couple of days, but it wouldn't be fair to myself or to you, to not let myself celebrate right? It's the first birthday I get to spend with you Misa!"

"Only the first of many."

"Kinda cheesy." - she says walking into the kitchen to set up the flowers in a vase.

"Excuse me? Can I be romantic to my girlfriend without being judged?!" - As I followed.

"Okay since I didn't plan anything before hand, can we do whatever I want today?"

"Yes, what would that be?"

"Shower and then lunch maybe?"

"Shower and lunch it is. I'll get the shower running while you finish it up here" - A weight left my shoulders when I realized it would be no trouble getting her out of the house.

After lunch we headed back home, the car ride was quiet and peaceful, and I decided it would be a good time to bring up we had plans.

"So... Since you were kind of down this week, I decided upon making plans for you. I mean us-" but I was quickly cut off.

"Misa, birthday sex doesn't need to be planned, it's kind of mandatory"

"Well yes but, I actually planned something, for tonight!"

"You did?! And you were able to keep it a secret? Wow, you really need to be praised then." - You said it half joking.

Back to the apartment.

"Alright so we have some free time until we need to start getting ready to go..." - I let her know while unlocking the door.

"I have the perfect idea to keep us busy till then..."

reader's pov

Standing both at someone's door, ready for whatever this was, you were excited to say the least. Misa never disappoints and that's been proved time and time again.

Not even 5 seconds later, there was Raso opening the door.

"Hello Y/N, happy birthday!" - She screams happily. The thick Aussie accent ever so present. "Welcome to my place and your birthday spot for the night!"

Hayley was the sweetest. You two had instantly become friends once you met. Unknown to you, when her friend asked for help to set everything up, she was the first one up for it, offering to take charge of everything. She missed Australia like crazy. And knew exactly how you were feeling.

Walking in and seeing the beautiful set up, made you smile and tear up immediately. Seeing all the girls you had grown close to, since you arrived in Spain made you feel so lucky.

The party initially started out as a calm dinner but by now it was a full on celebration, loud music and good drinks.

I saw Misa going out in the balcony, probably to get some air. And trailed off behind her.

"Thank you, my love. Really. It would've sucked to go through my birthday without a party." - I say looking into her eyes with the most love they could bare.

"I got you. Always. I'm so glad you liked it. Also really glad the cake was here." - Even though I didn't get the joke, I proceeded to thank her.

"This must have been a pain to organize. You know, we could of just gone clubbing." -

"That's what I said!" - Svava said from behind us. "I was looking for you two, the girls want to do karaoke!"

"I'm so gonna sing I want it that way."

"We'll be right there!" - Misa yelled through the loud music as she left us alone once more.

We stood there, just appreciating each other's presence. After sharing a kiss in a warm hug, Misa finally spoke again.

"First one down, forever to go!"

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As always, would love to hear your thoughts! 🩷

[b00tyliciousbabe]

hey i loved your Jordan Riki himbo x male reader. can i request one with himbo sweaty Reece Walsh with fetish? smut with reader worshipping his body?

thank you so much :)

AWWW STAWP IT! that means a lot, I’m glad you liked it. jordan and reece are carrying my interest in rugby rn, smth about those himbo australian/new zealand players just gets me going.

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crutches

reece walsh x male reader

summary: just me fantasising about this man for a bit.

notes: i have been obsessed with the girl group flo for a while now and they recently dropped a new single that inspired me to write this.

song rec: ‘walk like this’ - flo

‘if he keeps this up, i might need crutches…’

your boyfriend, reece walsh was a star on the pitch. and you were always there to cheer him on. during practice, sending you kisses and stares from the field. his dad calls him lazy, that he shouldn’t let you distract him from the bigger picture. ‘if you truly loved him, you wouldn’t be such a distraction.’ the coach’s words reverberated in your head for a while and you suggested that it’d be best if you stopped coming to see him. it wasn’t a break up, and y’all would see each other everywhere else, but your heart couldn’t take the possibility of being the cause of his failure.

reece always went to the gym when he needed to clear his mind. you watched him rep with a sad typa aggression. knocking, you asked if everything was alright. ‘babe i don’t really wanna talk about it.’ your bf said as he moved on to bench press. ‘tough,’ you straddle him with a brattiness that you knew, deep down, he loved to fuck out of you. ‘I ain’t movin until you tell me what’s bothering you.’ he sat up properly , palming your lower back to stabilise himself, ‘you’re insufferable you know that,’ reece huffed. you stroked his cheek with your thumb, the anger in his face melting at the love you’d always shown him. ‘you know you can tell me anything.’ you reassured, knowing that his father’s word got to him deeply. his frown softened, wanting to unburden himself at the gentleness of your voice. reece took another breath as you laid your hand on his heart. ‘i just hate that he sees our relationship as a distraction,’ he sighs, shoulders getting heavier, ‘if anything, seeing you makes me more work harder.’ reece goes in to kiss your neck and breathes out ‘my own personal cheerleader.’ you cradled his head, placing your fingers in his locks. you broke apart, as you tapped his nose. ‘you’re so cute!’ you lovingly teased. ‘shut the fuck uppppp.’ reece droned, turning red as he hid his blushing in your ample chest. you felt a thick, warm rod pressing in between your cheeks, urging you to untie your bf’s shorts, whilst he placed light kisses on your pecs.

‘w-wai-wait.’ reece says groggily. your face dropped, afraid you had done something wrong. ‘what’s the matter?’ you asked, as he remained silent, dragging you off of him. ‘i can’t fuck you here,’ he said with a sincerity in his tone. ‘i need one place where i can actually focus on training,’ seeming more rational by the minute. he breathed deeper. you could see exactly how hard it was for him to say this; the two of you had been together for some time now, and sex was one thing that he never messed with. for him, your body was sacred, one he needed to give full attention to. ‘i get it, you just look really hot when you’re all sweaty and stuff.’ you respond, eyes widening at your last statement.

you had told him the one thing, you swore never to admit. ‘so all of those times i came home from practice all gross,’ he grinned at how open you could be in your discussions with him. ‘you liked that shit?’ you looked up, sheepishly as a mumbled ‘yes.’ escaped your mouth. trying to solve his problems and save yourself from further awkwardness , you quickly changed the subject. ‘we can’t do anything here,’ you elongated the final word in a slutty attempt to arouse him. ‘so, how are we going to solve…’ gesturing to the the bulge in his shorts that ceased to go down. no words were exchanged. reece grabbed your wrist and rushed you two into his dad’s office.

he pushed you against the locked door and closed all of the blinds. invading your neck and upper chest with lovebites, he was like a creature, ravaging you. ‘reece, wait.’ you say using your might to push his desires off. ‘are you sure you wanna do this? here?’ he watched, unable to think clearly whilst staring down at your pretty face. ‘never have i ever wanted to fuck you as much as i want to right now.’ he grunted as you palmed him through his boxers. though left unsaid, you both loved the idea of literally ‘fucking over’ his dad’s feelings towards your relationship.

before you knew it, y’all were fully naked; if you weren’t in his company, you might’ve felt some vulnerability in your exposure, but he soothed those concerns with his touch. something about how the beads of sweat decorated his tan skin, and danced around the contours of his muscles, always astounded you. whenever the two of you made love, nothing else mattered. reece walsh, the biggest prick in the world (literally), was such a mess with your mouth wrapped around his cock. ‘ughhh fuck,’ he smiled, stroking your hair ‘shit baby, you suck my dick so well.’ you adored his cock, loving how you decorated it with your glittery saliva as the shades of light brown skin and pink hues painted his rod.

‘stand up for me baby,’ he demanded. reece loved your body. cupping your cheeks and toying with them, he looked into your fuck me eyes as he grinded his dick between your thighs. jumping up to allow him greater access he sat himself on the boss’ chair, deepening his kiss. ‘y/n, you ready?’ reece breathed, fingering your hole. riding him in the team office was not on your 2024 bucket list, but you certainly weren’t complaining. his light green eyes staring at you so lovingly, as he fucked himself up into your hole with no remorse. The duality turned you insane. the tensing of his biceps, strength of his shoulder blades, you were putty in his hands. ‘I will never get tired of you.’ he moaned, the sloppy sounds coming from your pussy. ‘I love you so much, my beautiful boy.’ you stroked his ego making him blush. he could snap out of being lovesick very quickly, but you were much better at bringing it out of him.

reece had found a rhythm; each time you lifted yourself from his huge dong, he gripped your plush waist and impaled you hard as you felt the veins of his cock imprint their way into your organs. it was a sight of true love. ‘fuck reece, you’re too big, i c-can’t.’ you subtly pleaded for him to slow down. your hole began to burn with a fiery stinging, but that was quickly forgotten as he reassured you: ‘i know baby, but you take it so well. that pussy is practically begging for my load.’ he wasn’t wrong. your tight lips involuntarily milked him so well that he couldn’t think straight. you bounced on him sloppily, signalling to your bf that you were getting close. he loved seeing his pretty boy fucked out on his cock. jackhammering at an insane speed he obliterated your ass, ‘FUCKKK FUCK REESE OH MY GOD!’ you exclaimed at the assault on your hole. it felt so good to have him rearrange your body, and you loved being his. ‘yeah, take it, imma give you it all,’ he groaned. the sounds of your wet hole and his precum made a symphony of pleasure, creating a percussion that accompanied the vocals y’all made. ‘cum for me,’ he grunted deeply, as he impaled you one last time, stuffing you with his batter. you painted his abs a bright white as he giggled seeing you in a trance. ‘every. fucking. time.’ you breathed out, recognising how whipped you were. ‘what?’ playing coy. as he licked his abdomen. ‘you know what,’ you playfully caressed his ear ‘turned me on so much that im sat in your dad’s office with his son’s dick up my ass.’ you both laughed, as reece savoured the sight of the boyfriend he loved so dearly.

despite how uncomfortable it would’ve been cockwarming your boyfriend, for the next 30 minutes, time was not a constant. you were lost in his company. a few kisses were exchanged, skin was stroked, but it was the first time you could just be present with him. ‘as much as im enjoying you squeezing my dick, my legs are falling asleep.’ he teased. ‘babe, i legit cannot walk.’ bursting out in laughter, as he pulled you of his pole and across the desk. after getting dressed, he grabbed some crutches from the medical room and drove you home, his seed still bubbling inside you. ‘how you feeling?’ reece asked, placing his hand on your thigh. you loved how sexy he looked driving like that. ‘a lil sore, but i’ll survive.’ you admitted ‘sorry baby, i did go a bit too rough.’ he answered with a hint of sadness at hurting you. ‘aww stop, don’t do that, i enjoyed every minute of it.’ you reassured. ‘besides, i know that your balls are aching right now from the pressure i put on them so…my bad’ he giggles at your attempt to lighten the mood.

the next day was the big match. the two of you had agreed to tone down your interactions during the game, and that you’d see each other after. a couple of his teammates greeted you during halftime. ‘HEY Y/N! long time no see.’ you walked over to them, a sway in your hips that Reece had fucked into you. they looked at you with furrowed brows until the realisation set in. this was certainly not lost on them as one of his best friends immediately knew. ‘walshie’s the reason that y/n is walking like that.’ he laughed pointing at your bf who looked so cute concentrating on the game. you could only smile at the prospect of taking him again after the game. bonus points if the team won x

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tag list:

@gayaristocrat

[aflame4goinghome]

Antithesis

j.t.k x reader & j.m.k. x reader

part I

summary: You’ve been going out with Josh for a few months now, but his twin brother still hasn’t warmed up to you. Despite your efforts, Jake can’t stand you and he makes sure to tell you every chance he gets. Finally, one night it seems like you’re about to get some answers, but the truth is a lot more complicated than you ever could have hoped.

word count: 4k

warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!! swearing, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), drinking, kissing, sexually implicit language, heavy petting, cheating *kind of* SMUT: semi-public sex, fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, praise kink if you squint

listen to the official playlist on Spotify here

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“Baby, you almost ready to go?” Josh pokes his head into the threshold of the bathroom from your bedroom with a soft smile.

“Oh, yeah, just another minute,” you reply, putting on the finishing touches of your mascara before turning toward him and slinging your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in.

“You look breathtaking, as always,” he says with a smirk.

You and Josh have been going out casually for about six months now, but it never got to be very serious. You went on a few dates and had some heated nights together, but his band started its newest tour a month after you met, so the time that you’ve spent together since then has been sparse.

You first met Josh one night while out with your friends at your local bar. You’d gone to get yourself and the other girls another round when you saw him sitting there at the bar next to you. Almost immediately, his honeyed words and sweet smile drew you in. He told the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, you took the drinks to your friends, then you sat down next to him and the two of you got comfortable rather quickly.

You took him home with you that night and you couldn’t seem to forget him after, no matter how hard you tried. He was handsome, sweet, and ridiculously good in bed. You’ve had your fair share of flings over the years, but nothing could compare to him. As you fell asleep that night with his arm draped over your torso, you knew you were done for. Living in Nashville your whole life, you always vowed to never date a musician. You knew that they were wild and unreliable, but damn, this one just trapped you.

Soon after, he embarked on the band’s world tour. You didn’t always hear from him that often, but you never expected to. He called you after a show every once in a while, usually half-drunk and looking for some relief after a stressful day, missing you. You miss him too while he’s gone, but you’re still trying to avoid getting too attached to the idea of him being yours. You knew that he’d eventually get tired of you or find someone else while on the road. But despite never putting a label on it, he’s remained loyal, which surprised you.

After getting home from the European leg of his tour, he invited you to go with him as his date to a Christmas party at his brother’s house. Events like this made you nervous, considering the complicated nature of your relationship, but you could never really find it in you to say no to him. You’re feeling reluctant to go to this party in particular though, and not for the usual reason.

Josh’s twin brother, Jake, hates you. Yes, hate is a strong word, but you are convinced that he absolutely loathes you. You still haven’t been able to figure out why, no matter how hard you tried. You haven’t encountered him that many times, but all of the times you’ve seen him, he would never lay off you. He would question everything you said, scoff at your remarks, and you even caught him glaring once or twice from across the room when he thought you weren’t looking.

After every time, you would ask Josh about it and he would make excuse after excuse. “Oh, I’m sure he’s just having a tough day,” or “Maybe he just misheard you,” or “He’s probably just feeling a bit protective of me.” Whatever the reasons were, you had no interest in entertaining it.

The two of you aren’t even that serious, so you feel no desire to impress his brother. Besides, his younger brother Sam and their best friend and bandmate Danny have both taken quite a liking for you. Screw Jake, you didn’t need his approval anyway. So why were you nervous to go to his house?

You snap out of your daydream and come back to reality, looking up at Josh with a smile. “Thank you, baby. You look quite dashing yourself, you know.”

You’d decided to wear a midi-length black dress with a high slit, pairing it with a pair of black heels. You opted for simple makeup and added red lipstick for the season. It was a simple look, but elegant for a Christmas party. Josh was wearing a pair of khaki pants with a white pullover sweater, adorned with his favorite symbol, and some tan winter boots. His cheeks were rosy from the cold weather, a perfect canvas for the little white dots that decorated his cheekbones. They’re lifted slightly as he smiles at your compliment, revealing a toothy grin.

“You’re an angel. Shall we?” he asks, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“We shall.”

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You both pull into Jake’s driveway and when you notice the lack of cars in front of the house, it becomes clear to you that you’ve arrived early. Great.

Josh turns the car off and gets out to round the car and open your door for you. You smile timidly at him as he takes your hand and helps you out of the car, then laces his fingers with yours and walks you to the porch.

“I promise, you’ll have a great time. Trust me,” he assures you as he knocks a few times on the large mahogany door. Much to your delight, it’s not Jake who opens the door, but Sam.

“Hey guys! Thank god you’re here. Jake thinks he’s running behind so he’s become so insufferable. Come on,” he says, clearly exasperated by his older brother already. The two of you follow Sam into the kitchen where you find Danny standing at the kitchen island, plating an array of cookies and appetizers.

“Oh, hey Josh. Y/N,” he says with a soft smile, then goes back to his task. You turn to your right to see Jake standing at the oven, hastily taking out a roast and placing it on top of the stove with a sigh. When he hears Daniel’s greeting, he turns his head and captures your gaze. You watch his eyes droop a bit as he turns back around, removes his oven mitts, and approaches you.

“Hello, brother. Nice of you to finally join us,” Jake mutters sarcastically, reaching over to grip Josh’s arm and giving it a light smack before turning to you. “Was this one holding you back? Probably takes hours to get ready, doesn’t she?” he jokes, stepping toward you to pull you into a one-armed hug, which is surely a formality. “To no avail, it seems,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, so quietly that only you can hear.

You scoff at him and roll your eyes as he pulls away, and turns around to head back to the oven. He speaks to you both as he walks away, facing away from you. “Would you both prepare the bar? All the booze is out in the garage, I’d like it in here.” Josh looks over at you apologetically then answers, “Yeah, Jake. We’ll go get it.” He takes your hand in his once again and you both walk back to the foyer to step out and grab the drinks.

Josh puts in the code and the garage door slowly rises, revealing the large pile of alcohol on the side wall. As you go to grab a few grocery bags of liquor bottles, Josh takes a pack of beer in each hand, opting to take the heavier stuff.

“I’m sorry about him. That’s just how he is, you know? He’ll warm up to you,” he says, looking at you and trying to gauge your reaction.

“How long does it take to warm up to a person? We’ve been seeing each other since June, Josh. Sam and Danny don’t seem to have any issues with me. So why him?” you ask, feeling frustrated.

Josh lets out a heavy sigh, looking at you with softened eyes. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m sure he has his reasons. He doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. I’ve known him since the womb and I still can’t always figure him out.”

“Well, it’s making me crazy,” you pout. He puts the cases of beer down and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby. Just ignore him for tonight, okay? I just wanna have a nice night with my girl…” he says, placing his hand on your chin to tilt it up to meet your eyes.

“Fine… but you owe me,” you tease with a smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh, I’ll make it worth your while, darling, trust me on that,” he replies with a smirk, biting his lip. He leans down to capture your lips in his for a moment, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. His other hand which was once planted on your waist moves down to grip your bare thigh, exposed by the long slit in your dress. You sigh against his lips as his grip on your thigh tightens, pulling away from him slowly.

“We should get back…” you whisper. “Sorry, I’m just insatiable for you,” he says with a wink before reaching down to grab the beer and turning to walk out of the garage. You quickly follow, pressing the button the shut the door and then returning inside Jake’s house.

When you and Josh return inside, Jake has finished cooking and went upstairs to change into his party attire. The two of you stand around the kitchen island with Sam and Danny, chatting for a while as you wait for Jake to return downstairs in time for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You hear footsteps down the stairs and turn your attention to see Jake waltz back into the room. He’s put on a black button-down shirt, only fastening a few of the buttons on the bottom, leaving his bare chest exposed. An array of silver necklaces sits upon his exposed chest, the coins attached to the chains lying just right against his smooth skin. His wavy brown hair rests almost perfectly on his shoulders, which you notice has grown quite a bit since the last time you saw him. You think for a moment that it suits him, but you quickly shake that thought out of your head.

He’s wearing a pair of simple black dress pants with matching black ankle-length boots, seemingly leather. And of course, he could not go without his dark sunglasses, despite it being nighttime… and winter. Arrogant asshole.

Through the lenses, you panic as you see his eyes find yours. A smirk forms on his face as he finally approaches, and you already know that he’s about to piss you off.

“Didn’t anyone teach you that it’s impolite to stare, sunshine?” Jake says proudly, leaning against the kitchen island awaiting your response.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you scoff, standing up from your seat in the kitchen to go to the bar and make yourself a drink. Your cheeks flush as your back is turned to the rest of the group and you try to shake off the sudden feeling of embarrassment as you reach down to pour some tequila into your glass, topping it off with soda water.

Convinced that your face has finally returned to its natural color, you walk back to the kitchen, retrieve some ice from the freezer, and add it to your glass. You return to the island and stand behind where Josh is seated, placing your hand on his back and rubbing it slightly.

They’re caught up in a conversation regarding their time in the studio a few days back, but your eyes meet Jake’s once again. He takes a sip of his glass of neat whiskey, which he’s seemingly already poured for himself, not taking his eyes off of yours for a second.

What the hell is his problem? It can never just be a simple night, can it? Before you have the chance to question him, the doorbell rings and Jake retreats to open the door and greet his new guests. Perhaps you can catch him later to question him, but for now, you plan to just have a good time.

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The night has gone smoothly so far, despite your concerns. Jake’s stayed out of your way, spending most of the time speaking with some record executives in the living area by the record player, attending to the music once the record ends every once and a while.

You’ve stayed by Josh’s side all evening, standing by the bar talking to Sam and Danny. You’ve already had three tequila sodas in and are luckily feeling much more relaxed. Not only that, but about three drinks in is usually when you start to crave a cigarette or two. So, you excuse yourself from the group and retreat to Jake’s back porch, stopping in the foyer quickly to grab your coat.

You slink out of the back door and sit down on the porch swing, pulling out a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and a black lighter. The porch is lit dimly by a string of lights, extending from the porch to the small garden next to it. The ground is laid with a thin layer of snow, probably only about an inch or two, and the pine trees in his backyard also have little blankets of snow resting upon them. It’s quiet, almost too quiet.

Then, as if the universe heard your thoughts, you hear the door open from your right. Much to your dismay, it’s Jake who walks out of the house onto the porch, with a joint already hanging out of his mouth as his eyes meet yours. He removes his sunglasses and his lips turn upward slightly as he walks over to sit next to you on the swing. You sigh quietly as you put your cigarettes back into your pocket, picking up on his hint and opting to smoke with him instead. What did you have to lose?

You reach up with your lighter still in your hand, lighting the joint between his lips for him. His eyes burn through yours as he inhales for a few moments before removing it from his mouth and blowing the smoke out to the side.

“Needed a break from the festivities, sunshine?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk, offering you a hit. You take it willingly, taking a drag and shaking your head.

“Not necessarily. It’s just about that time of night when I’d want a smoke,” you answer candidly, shrugging a bit before passing the joint back to him.

“Didn’t want your boyfriend to come with you?” he teases, taking a long drag. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back onto the back of the swing as he hands you the joint back and you take another hit.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And no, I just wanted to have a few minutes alone. You can see how well that worked out,” you say, taking one more hit before giving it back. He just looks at you for a moment with a puzzled look on his face, which soon turns back into a smirk.

“Well, who am I to let a lady sit out in the cold by herself?” he says, turning his body toward you more on the seat. His left arm moves to rest on the back of the seat, with his hand gripping the seat behind your head. You’re suddenly very thankful for the dim lighting, which you hope is successfully hiding the newfound pink tint of your cheeks from the proximity.

“What a gentleman,” you say sarcastically, taking a drag of the joint and crossing your legs as you turn your body toward him to mirror him. He takes it from your fingers and puts it out in the ashtray on the table in front of you, then sits back in his original position. The slit on your left leg causes your legs to become much more exposed to the cold, causing you to pull your coat over your legs slightly. To your surprise, Jake moves his right hand from his lap and slides it slowly to rest on your exposed knee, underneath your coat.

“You are cold, I can feel it,” he mutters, moving to sit a bit closer to you, looking down at your knee and then back up to meet your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a confused look, searching his eyes for any hint of what he’s thinking. You’ve never been this close to him before and for some reason, your immediate reaction wasn’t to pull away.

“I’m warming you up, sunshine…” he answers, his gaze still not breaking away from yours as he moves his hand from your knee to your outer thigh, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Jake, why do you call me that? I don’t get it,” you ask, hoping to finally get some answers about how he feels about you. Now was as good a time as ever. His lips turn up into a cocky smile, even showing a hint of teeth as he formulates a reply.

“Because you light up the sky, Y/N… and I shouldn’t look at you, or else I’ll go blind,” he finally answers, stroking your thigh again with a bit more force this time, causing you to take a deep breath and swallow harshly. “I shouldn’t touch you, or else I’ll get burned.”

Your eyes soften as you look back at him, still trying to wrap your head around what he’s trying to say. Before you have a chance to question him further, he continues.

“So, if I shouldn’t look at you… or touch you… then why do I still desire to?” he says inquisitively, gazing down at your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes. "Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight… For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light… Perhaps my own desire will be my downfall, hm?”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you gaze up at him in shock. “Jake… what are you saying? I thought you hated me…” you say, in almost a whisper now.

“Sunshine, I’ve never hated you,” he answers, moving his hand slightly further up your exposed thigh. “I’ve just been resisting the light… but I’m not afraid to get burned anymore.” Oh. Your mind is spinning, from the combination of alcohol, weed, and hushed confessions.

Before you have the chance to tell yourself that you should take some time to think about this, your body acts without your permission and your lips crash against his. Immediately his hand snakes into your hair on the back of your neck, pulling you into him as his other hand continues to grip your thigh. Both of your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, tugging on it lightly, eliciting a groan from him into your mouth.

He pulls away from you for a moment as he moves his hand toward the inside of your thigh, inching closer to your already aching core. “Can I?...” he asks, and you nod feverishly. His lips find your neck as you lean your head back against the back of the seat, his fingers snaking slowly up the inside of your thigh.

His fingers find the black lace covering your lower lips, which is already soaked through from all the buildup. You feel him smirk against the skin of your neck as he feels the slick between your legs and then moves the fabric to the side. He runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness before sliding one finger inside of you, causing you to gasp quietly.

His thumb rubs small, quick circles around your clit as he moves his pointer finger in and out of you, then inserts a second finger along with it. “Fuck, sunshine, so tight for me. Bet that feels so good, huh? Did you need it bad?” he whispers against your neck, laying wet kisses down to your collarbone. “God, yes, so good. Needed it so bad, Jake,” you mutter, already overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips and hands on you.

“God’s not here. There’s only me,” he says, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you, curling them upward to hit that special spot far back. You feel how close you are now, barely holding on. Your hand is gripping his shoulder hard, your nails digging into him through his shirt.

“That’s it, baby, come on. I know how bad you want it,” he says, kissing his way back up your neck to your chin. “Want you to come all over my fingers while my brother waits for you inside. Bet you look so gorgeous when you come. C’mon, make those pretty sounds for me, sunshine.” You whine, probably a bit louder than you should have, as his fingers finally coax your orgasm out of you. Jake’s lips find yours to muffle the sound of your cries as he works you through it, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you come down from the high.

He pulls away from you, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them up to his mouth, sucking your release off of them with a low groan. His left hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer to him, leaving only a few inches of room between you.

“So fucking perfect for me… Looks like my wings are melting, love. Too late to turn back now,” he says, his eyes glued to yours. “No regrets?”

“No regrets,” you answer, resting your forehead against his, taking a deep breath before pulling away and standing up, walking back toward the door. You turn around for a moment, meeting his gaze and looking at him softly, before heading back inside to find Josh.

You find Josh in the kitchen, standing at the island with Sam. “Hey, baby, I was wondering where you went,” he says, snaking his arm around you.

“Oh, yeah sorry. I just went out for a smoke and got distracted,” you answer with a soft smile.

“Are you tired? We can head out if you want, I’m sure Jake won’t mind,” he asks with a smile. You nod and turn to see Jake walk through the front door; you guess that he went around to the front of the house to not raise any suspicion. Smart.

You both say your goodbyes to everyone before walking to the foyer, leaving Jake for last. Josh hugs his brother and pats his shoulder, then grabs his keys and walks out the front door.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you whisper timidly, looking up at him.

“G’night, sunshine…” he says with a wink, stroking your cheek lightly as you smile at him, then back away and walk past him out the door. Your cheeks are flush as you walk out to Josh’s car, getting in and buckling your seatbelt before he drives off.

“Did you have a good time, sweetheart?” Josh asks, looking over at you for a moment as he drives.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” you answer, looking out the window.

You try to think over tonight’s events as you drive down the long and winding road toward your house. Never did you expect Jake to act that way toward you. You had been convinced that he hated you, but all this time he was just… afraid of his desire for you? It still didn’t make sense to you, but you’re fearful of the feelings that your encounter with Jake has brought to light.

He was so different from Josh, in every way. While Josh was sweet, Jake was assertive. While Josh was desirable, Jake was seductive. It was like he cast some sort of spell on you. Jake is the antithesis of Josh. And for some reason, that intrigues you. But now what? Now that you’ve entertained Jake, there’s no way that either of you will be able to resist the temptation of having each other again. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

✺⋅∘⋅•⋅∘⋅✧⋅∘⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅∘⋅✧⋅∘⋅∙⋅∘⋅✺

read part two here

Leave a reply or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist! And as always, let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter!

Our dear reader has a lot of decisions she has to make now, doesn't she? I guess we'll find out in the next chapter ;) see you then

Taglist:

@itsafullmoon @vanfleeter @klarxtr @itsdannysworld @lipstickitty @peaceloveunitygvf @wildmoonworld @ignite-my-fire

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, eventual poly!relationship, undead.

Word Count: 3,811

Notes: Mother knows I don’t need another AU but frankly idc 💅🏻

_________________________________________

Day 189

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Fuck me, you think, digging your tattered sneakers deeper into the ground. You’re hoping to gain better traction on the dirty road as you run–sprint away from the creature at your back. Gravel gives way, making the asphalt slippery as you try to maneuver through the barren streets or the abandoned town and away from the monster trailing behind you.

You don’t need to be bolting at full speed, but any form of running is tough due to your injured knee. You’d twinged it the other day as you ran through the forest with a horde of undead lazing after you, locked in on the stench of your blood.

You’d tripped over an upturned root and fell harshly, landing directly onto a stone. The crack of your knee smashing into the rock cracked through the forest and the zoms had grunted loudly in response, almost gleefully, like they knew you’d been downed.

It truly is just your luck.

Something always seemed to go wrong in your presence. If it wasn’t dropping your last can of food into the river while you were crossing it was attracting a group of undead while you were grumbling loudly about just how shit your luck really was. It was the man you’d trusted who’d ended up robbing and abandoning you while you slept, leaving you only with the short knife tucked into your boot at the time.

Hell, you were probably somehow connected to the apocalypse happening.

You chance a look over your shoulder, and for a split second your heart calms and you slow your pace, the road clear behind you.

Hunched over with your hands on your knees you gulp down the arid summer air. The stifling heat chokes you and you cough loudly to clear your airway, sucking in a large breath just as a bead of sweat rolls down your mouth. You wheeze, coughing harder as the tiny offender slips its way down the wrong pipe. 

Like you said, bad luck.

Pounding on your chest, you wince. Your hacking will attract more. You need to stop.

Scanning your surroundings, you try to gather your bearings of where you are in this small, rundown town. You were just supposed to be passing through for the usual runs of searching shops for food and unused supplies. Your backpack is a little too light for your comfort.

You’d convinced your comrade to split up, and now you're regretting it more than ever. The town is small enough, quiet enough with the rustling leaves and sounds of birds chirping nearby. There are no human sounds, no scuffing of shredded shoes dragging across the pavement, no snick of safety switches clicking off. 

It’s silent.

You cut off your coughing abruptly and straighten, swallowing uncomfortably. Your tongue is thick in your mouth and your throat is dry from lack of water. You’re down to your last bottle, and choking on your own sweat has only made you thirstier. Your heart pounds in your chest, too loud for you to make out the sound around you but it’s then that you realize–

It’s silent.

The wildlife has gone completely still, birds sensing the threats lingering nearby, falling quiet in their nests. Not only do zoms lure for tasty human flesh, but they’re known to trap any living creatures they can.

A low inhuman growl drags your attention away from the trees. It grates against your skull like it always does, a cry for help, a cry for flesh. Your head snaps around back the way you came. 

You curse.

Really, really unlucky.

Not one, but three undead come stumbling out from behind the building you’d passed. It’s an old laundromat, and one of the zoms is clad in a half-torn dirty t-shirt that you think could use a good washing. Or burning. They’re tripping over their own stupidly clumsy feet, and when they catch sight of you, pick up your sweaty, delicious scent over the soft breeze, their milky white eyes zero in on you.

Grunting softly, you begin jogging away from them. Running has never been your favorite hobby, but it’s imperative to your survival now. Doesn’t matter that your lungs feel like they’re on fire with every step, your knee sending sharp shockwaves of pain up your leg with each step. 

At least it isn’t broken.

Ignoring the throb in your leg, you reach for the holster wrapped tightly around your waist. You’d had to punch another hole into the leather to keep it tight enough not to slip down your rapidly slimming hips. You know you won’t find anything there, that dick had stolen your gun long ago. These days, the worn leather belt housed a knife, but you’d dropped it in the initial scuffle with the leader of the small zom pack chasing after you.

You’d laughed, thought it was your comrade and had shoved the creature off of you. But when your fingers had torn through the delicate flesh on the zombies arm, rotting veins and thin skin spilled out over your hand you were quick to your senses. Reaching for the knife, hand slicked with thick, chunky blood. Your grip slipped once, twice, and the zombie was up in an instant, pushing against the hand you’d planted across its chest.

Finally tugging the knife loose from where it was nestled in your holster was a relief that turned sour as the zombie swiped out. Dumb luck had the flailing limb striking true, knocking the weapon from your unsteady hold. It landed with a soft thump, a small cloud of dust puffing up and clinging to the black blood coated hilt.

Time froze as you stared at the zombie, letting out an unamused puff of air as your heart kicked into gear. It’s head jerked forward on fractured bones, the clacking of it reverberated up your spine like a hot knife, and you winced. The zoms mouth parted and its rotting gray tongue rolled out, lapped at the air, tasting your scent.

It shoved harder against your hold.

You’d managed to wrestle the undead away, pushing it to the ground, but you hadn’t had the time to grab your trusty knife that you’d carried with you since the beginning of the end. You climbed to your feet and side stepped the cracked hand reaching for you, the bony tips of fingers free from dead skin, sprinting away.

Unsure of which way to go, you raced up the road away from where you had last seen your friend. You wouldn’t let her get caught because of your stupidity.

You try to outrun them, weaving in and out of the few buildings in town, but they’re locked on your scent, although you’re pretty sure you smell like one of them by now, you can’t even remember the last time you’d showered.

Rounding the corner of an old bar, you debate stopping for a drink. You pray that there’s an unopened bottle of vodka, or tequila inside. Hell, you’d take just about anything right now.

Making a mental note to come back around and search the bar, you trip. You use your hands to catch you, cursing as your palms scrape against the pebbles and dirt. You hope that there’s no blood, muttering beneath your breath as you survey the alley. There’s a tall chain link fence blocking your path.

Well fuck.

There’s no way you’ll make it up in time, and the drop from the other side is a long way. Plus, you don’t know if your aching knee will be able to support your weight against the flimsy metal, having just fallen on it again.

Your day really can’t get any worse.

Your limbs slide against the dusty ground as you flip over. Your fingertips dig down for purchase. The three zoms are approaching quickly, limping closer to you, keen on getting a taste of your flesh. One of them even looks like it’s smiling, peeling lips torn and curled around blackened rotting teeth, grinning at you sadistically.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

This is it.

You search the alley frantically, hoping that there’s at least a broken bottle from the tavern you can use in defense against the looming creatures. There’s nothing but pebbles and litter, not a single potential weapon in sight. You swallow hard, gaze flitting back to the zombies who moan softly, making grabby hands at you like babies do their mothers.

Your back hits the fence and you squeeze your eyes shut tight, the sun blaring hot across your skin.

You’ve had a pretty good run, you think, for someone who’s luck is as shit as yours. 189 days.

You send a silent prayer up above – although you’re pretty sure whoever is supposed to be watching over Earth has taken a break long ago – and hope that your comrade will be okay.

The zoms are almost on you and you curl tighter around yourself, refusing to open your eyes. If you’re going to go, the last thing you want to see is yourself being eaten. No thanks.

There’s a loud war cry just as the long, overgrown, brittle nails scrape against your cheek. You shudder and a shadow crosses your vision for a millisecond, and your eyes snap open. Squinting against the harsh sun you watch as the zombies arms are lobbed off, falling right onto your lap.

Black blood drips thickly and your empty stomach curdles. With a grimace you shove the limp limbs off of your legs and pull yourself to your feet, the zombies attention turning to the new person in the alley with you.

You loose a sigh of relief at the shaky laugh and taunts thrown at the undead, “Come here, you fuckers!”

It’s your comrade. She’s armed with a landscape scythe in one hand and your knife in the other. The sunlight casts over her sharp cheekbones and her gray eyes are almost as pale as the zoms. It’s unnerving sometimes but right now your chest swells with relief. Her menacing (and slightly crazed) smile has her looking like an angel of death.

“Feyre,” you exhale, head falling back against the chain link fence in solace.

The armless zombie struggles, trying to stagger to its feet, but it ends up inchworming its way towards you and your savior. With one quick jab of your knife to its head, the creature goes still.

Feyre jerks the blade from the body and dances around the other two zoms, swiftly moving behind them. You catch one of their attention, beating your hand against the fence, rattling the metal with your hands. Before one can turn around to face Feyre, she uses her scythe, the curved blade protruding from the stomach of the zombie. She grabs the handle with both hands and lifts with a grunt. The body's decomposed muscle and bone give way as she slices from stomach to head, splitting the damn thing in two. When it falls away it reveals a grinning Feyre.

You grimace at the sight. She’d found that gardening scythe a few weeks ago and now it’s her new favorite weapon.

“Gimme,” you gesture to your knife with a nod of your head, the last zombie still slowly making its way towards you.

“You sure?” Feyre cocks an eyebrow. She’s still on a high from her last kill, “I don’t mind.”

You shrug your shoulders in response, “Be my guest.”

You let Feyre take the last one, sliding the knife easily into the base of its neck. It’s a more humane kill than the last one, and you’re just glad it’s over quickly.

“Don’t drop this again,” Feyre says seriously, striding over the dead bodies and firmly placing the knife back in your hand. Her fingers wrap around yours tightly, making sure you understand the importance of the weapon.

“Not like I was trying to,” you mumble, looking away from her in shame. Your gaze settles on your hands and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You hadn’t even known the girl long but here she is, saving your life and sticking by your side even though she doesn’t have to.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she admits softly, looking at you with sad eyes. If she’s saying this because she doesn’t want to be out all alone in the shit world or because she feels a kinship with you from what you’ve both been through, you can’t say.

You sigh, frustrated. “I’m no good for you, Fey. You’d be better off without me.” You wipe the blood from your blade onto your already dirty pants and nestle it back in its rightful spot on your belt.

“Stop with that, (Y/N).” Feyre places her hands firmly on your shoulders and stares into your eyes. Her gray iris’ are piercing, similar and yet different than the undead, like she can see all of your deepest secrets and fears, all of the things you’ve had to do to get here, to stay alive.

You’re vaguely aware of the zombie blood dripping from her blade onto your shoulder and you try not to cringe. “Like hell you’re leaving me in this shit hole alone.”

You chuckle softly, ignoring the pang of guilt you feel. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she will absolutely abandon you, your mind supplies.

“Sorry,” you offer quietly.

“Just don’t scare me like that again,” she responds, waving off your apology. There are no ‘sorry’s’ in the apocalypse, no need to ask forgiveness for the evils you’ve committed. You trail Feyre out of the alley, “Use your words next time.”

“Didn’t want to attract more,” you admit, knowing that if you had screamed for help it would only put the both of you in more danger, “Ended up doing that just fine anyway.”

Feyre doesn’t respond to that. She can see that you’re already kicking yourself for what’s happened, even though the both of you are okay. You have a habit of that, blaming yourself for most things that go wrong. You always have.

“You’re limping,” she points out instead, “You hurt?”

“Nah, just fell on it weird,” you try to smile but it looks more like a grimace. “It’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“We should find somewhere to stop. You can rest and I’ll check out the other stores. Maybe we can find you some painkillers.”

The odds are highly unlikely, but you don’t mention it. Not all of the stores in this tiny town have smashed windows and ransacked shelves.

“We’re not splitting up again,” you demand, following Feyre through the broken window of a nearby store. You wince when you lift your leg and pain shoots up it.

You look around the dinghy shop and make a face. It’s a mattress store, and you have no idea how long it’s been since it’s been broken into, but by the looks of the stained and matted mattresses, you can tell it’s been awhile.

Feyre hums in agreement, scythe poised and ready for anything that might pop up and surprise the both of you. You keep your knife tucked tightly in your hand, ready to back her up without a second thought.

“There’s a clothing shop a few stores down. Untouched. Thought we could drag a mattress down there for a night. Sleep on a real bed for once,” Feyre suggests and throws a grin over her shoulder towards you, “Maybe go on a little shopping spree.”

And that’s another thing that differentiates you from Feyre. While she was scoping out for supplies that might actually help you survive in this undead world, you were thinking about booze.

“It would be nice to get some new clothes,” you comment, pulling at the dirty shirt clinging to your sweaty skin. You frown, looking around at all of the mattresses, “And sleep on something comfortable, if we can find one that’s decent, that is.”

Feyre rolls her eyes, “Oh, come on (Y/N). Everyone knows they keep the nice ones in the back. All wrapped up and ready to go.” She raises her eyebrows at you in a silent question, and you nod, silently telling her that you’ve got her back.

Feyre shoves open the door to the storage room and you’re surrounded by stacked mattresses lining the walls. 

“Jackpot!”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The both of you had managed to drag a twin sized bed two stores over into the clothing shop with little trouble. You’d ignored the twinge of pain in your leg at the weight. It grows worse the longer you stand on it, but you really do want to sleep in a real bed.

You shove it as far away as you can from the window at the front of the store and tear the plastic wrap off of it. Your heart stumbles as you think that this is what it must feel like for the zombies to tear through flesh. You shudder.

Instead of falling onto the fresh mattress like you want to, you’d gone back out to search for more supplies before the sun sets. You need water, but it’s scarce to come by these days. You each have one bottle left in your bags from when you’d found a pack of unopened water bottles sitting out in the sun in front of a gas station. It probably wasn’t the best thing to be drinking from a plastic bottle that had been sitting in the sun for who knows how long, but you didn’t have the luxury of being picky these days.

You’d seen one more zombie in the drugstore you were hoping to find some painkillers in, but if the spilled pills surrounding the trapped zombie were anything to go by, it looked like they had gotten to them first.

You whistle to yourself as you walk through the aisles, a slight limp in your step. You kick an open bag of chips out of your way, searching for anything that is still usable to eat for the night.

You’d gotten used to the constant hunger pains, the feeling of your stomach trying to eat itself, contorting in pain when you thought about shoveling a thick and juicy cheeseburger into your mouth. As long as your stomach still jumps at the thought of food instead of flesh, you can manage.

Feyre was built for the apocalypse. She’s figured out how to ration, and she’s always planning, not knowing when you’d find your next meal.

Another reason you were so lucky to have her.

You’re frustrated, having walked down the food aisle three times but still coming up with nothing. The only food left was opened or had rotted out a long time ago, and you don’t need to be getting sick over spoiled food.

“Find anything?” Feyre asks, returning from checking the back room and moving over to where you stand.

“A few bandages, but no food,” you sigh, holstering your weapon. “You?”

She shakes her head, “No food either, but I found these,” she tosses you a bottle of painkillers and you smile gratefully. “Fucker didn’t get to those ones.”

“Thanks, Fey.” You immediately tug off the cap and down two. They catch against your dry throat but eventually work their way down.

You tug your backpack off of your shoulder, stuffing the canister inside. It rattles and you remind yourself to stuff a clean sock into it so they don’t move around as much.

The both of you search up and down the rest of the aisles of the small store just in case. Feyre becomes fascinated over a rubix cube you’d found, still in its package. You smile softly at her as she tears open the plastic and mixes the colors. You both need something that reminds you of the simple life before.

You find some chains and padlocks still handing in their spots in the hardware store and you’re both incredibly thankful. Even though you haven’t found more food, you still have a can of beans you can share, and you have clean clothes and a comfortable place to sleep for the night, so today isn’t as much of a bust as you thought.

“Fuck,” Feyre sighs are she settles down onto the mattress next to you. “Been a rough day, hasn’t it?”

You hum in agreement, passing her the can of beans. You’ve both changed, opting for plain t-shirts and new jeans. You’d almost cried when you found a package of unopened socks, shouting for Feyre like you’d found a cure.

“S’just socks, (Y/N). Calm down,” she’d replied, but the relief shone in her eyes as well.

You share the beans, passing it back and forth in silence, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You’d packed up what you could into your bags. They sit at the foot of the mattress, ready and close just in case something happens. Your new running shoes sit neatly next to them on your respective side of the bed.

“Go to sleep, I’ll take the first watch,” you offer, and who is Feyre to argue?

She settles into the soft bed and is out as soon as she’s comfortable, exhausted from today’s events. You’re constantly worn out. There’s just something about the end of the world that is so very tiring.

You hum to yourself, checking the exits for the third time in two hours. You need something to do or you’ll fall asleep. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. Feyre knows it’s because of your slight paranoia that something terrible could happen if you don’t continually check your surroundings. But you’re not wrong.

Checking the lock and chain on the front door, your attention is caught by something moving outside.

You immediately crouch out of sight, peeking out the grimy window into the darkness to see what it is. 

Three figures, too fast to be zombies.

Your heart pounds. You can hardly make them out in the dark, but it looks like two people dragging another along between them. They’re tall, you can tell. Must be men. They hurry down the street as you watch on. Your gaze flickers up the street, searching for zombies, your knife gripped in a firm hand, but you don’t see anything.

You wonder if the person they’re dragging with them is injured. They must be, otherwise they’d be running alongside the other two. You wonder how much blood they’re leaving behind as the three of them find an open shop across the street and down a few from where you and Feyre are hiding out for the night. An old cafe of sorts. You’d checked it over earlier, but you suppose it’s as good of a place as any to take shelter in for the night, the window and door still intact.

They’ll be away from monsters, at least.

Everything in the new world is a lot scarier in the dark.

_________________________________________

(Part 2)

[salaimoi]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ thank you. ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

short fluffy gojo satoru x fem reader for a change ᵔᴗᵔ

wc: 363

Satoru always knew just what to say when you were on your period—aching with cramps and headaches. you’d usually tough it out and refuse to take any medicine to aid with the pain and that bothered him.

he knew you refused to take them so you wouldn’t seem “weak” in front of him. you could’ve lost an arm in the most brutal way but you would still put up a front for him.

he’d plant small kisses on your forehead while he massaged your shoulders and repeated a million i love you’s. he was too caring for his own good, putting others over him—especially you—because he had a soft spot for his pretty girl.

you were the epitome of divinity in his eyes. your aura alone made you irresistible to someone like him—someone who didn’t believe in love because it never ended the same way it did in the movies. he always witnessed how the guy got the girl, and they lived happily ever after, but that never happened to him—until you.

the heavens must have finally smiled upon him for a change when you bumped into him that fated day and spilled fresh roasted coffee on his expensive clothes. the embarrassed smile that adorned your face as you apologized to him for being so careless—the redness stained your face like paint to a canvas. he reassured it was okay, but you knew deep down that you made yourself look like a fool in front of such a handsome man like satoru.

ever since that day, you made sure to not let him see you in such a vulnerable state because of how passive he became around you. he never said no to you or even raised his voice at you—you were too precious to him for him to do so.

you were his everything. you planted a kidney bean that later sprouted inside him, turning all his hatred and bitterness into love and benevolence.

he could spend a thousand years thanking you for doing so, but even then it wouldn’t be enough. you personified the promise that things would get better when he was beginning to fall into despair.

you saved him.

[koyagifs]

shattered trust

pairing: Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Hufflepuff!reader au: harry potter genre: angst | fluff | Summary: as the years go by, you never noticed the dark side of your lover.

Warning(s):

Some cursing, their ages will be aged up a bit! This fic is not meant to reflect how Ateez are in real life. This is a fanfic.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14

st masterlist | ateez masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖☾

The last few weeks of school passed in a haze, the shock of Cedric’s death weighing heavily on everyone. The once lively chatter in the Great Hall had turned to hushed whispers, and the atmosphere at Hogwarts was thick with fear and uncertainty. The return of You-Know-Who cast a shadow over everything, even for those who tried to carry on as if nothing had changed.

Mina’s expulsion was another shock that rippled through the school, the circumstances surrounding it stirring up a whirlwind of rumors. Some whispered that she had been caught practicing dark magic, while others speculated that she had been involved in Cedric’s death. The truth remained murky, but one thing was clear: the confidence and camaraderie that once filled Hogwarts were fraying at the edges.

Conversations about Cedric and the Triwizard Tournament had all but stopped—no one wanted to relive the horror of that night. The Ministry was in denial, refusing to believe that Voldemort had truly returned, but you knew the truth. The fear, the grief, and the unshakable reality that the Dark Lord had indeed returned.

Hongjoong had been by your side more than ever, his presence a comforting constant in the midst of the chaos. He seemed to instinctively know when you needed a shoulder to lean on or a distraction from the weight of the world around you. Together, you navigated the uncertainty, finding solace in shared laughter and whispered confessions, even as the shadows of the past loomed over you.

Mingi, too, remained close, his protective instincts kicking in full force. He often joined you and Hongjoong, ensuring that you were never alone, whether in the halls or the library, where you found refuge in books. The bond among your friends deepened as you all leaned on each other for strength, determined to face whatever lay ahead together.

As you sat with your friends by the courtyard one afternoon, watching the sun dip low on the horizon, it hit you just how much had changed. There was no escaping what was coming. The carefree days of your earlier years at Hogwarts felt like a distant memory, replaced by a growing sense of foreboding.

Mingi sighed heavily, breaking the silence. “It’s not going to be the same anymore, is it?”

You shook your head, your voice quiet. “No, it’s not.”

Hongjoong glanced at you, his eyes filled with concern. “We’ll get through it, though. Together.”

The others looked at each other, nodding as they gather closer, " beside im sure it won't be a wild ride next year"

Yeosang's attempt to lighten the mood earned him a soft laugh, and the tension in the air eased just a bit. "Yeah, a wild ride," Jongho echoed, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. "More like a treacherous journey filled with dark magic and danger."

You smiled faintly, grateful for their efforts to keep things light despite the heavy reality looming over you all. “As long as we stick together, I think we can handle whatever comes our way.”

“Exactly,” Mingi chimed in, his gaze unwavering. “We’ve faced tough times before. This will be no different.”

Wooyoung, always the jokester, added, “And if all else fails, we can always find a way to prank our way out of trouble!”

The laughter that followed was a welcome sound, a reminder that amidst the darkness, there was still light to be found in your friendships. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the courtyard, you felt a flicker of hope. It was small, but it was there. Together, you would face whatever challenges awaited you, united in your resolve to protect each other and navigate the uncertainties of the future.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖˖☾

As you walked away, Hongjoong couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He watched you and your family disappear into the distance, his heart heavy with concern. Despite the warmth of the sun setting behind you, a chill crept up his spine. He could sense that the shadows of the past few weeks were not completely behind you.

“Mingi,” he called out, turning to his friend, who was lingering nearby, deep in conversation with Yeosang. “Do you think everything will really be okay?”

Mingi paused, his expression turning serious. “What do you mean?”

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just have this feeling... like something’s coming. I don’t want to leave YN alone, not after everything that’s happened.”

Mingi nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “I get that. But you know she needs some space too. We all do, in a way.”

“I know,” Hongjoong replied, glancing back one last time. “But what if she needs us more than we realize?”

“Then we’ll be there for her,” Mingi assured him. “We always will be. But right now, let’s make sure we take care of ourselves too. We can’t help her if we’re not okay ourselves.”

" beside, i'm pretty sure im staying at your place again this summer.." Mingi mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers.

Hongjoong looked at his parents who were talking to Mingi's parents, glancing at the two before they came towards them. Yeosang was quick to say his goodbye, mention he'll write to them before he headed to his family.

"come boys, time to head home," Hongjoong father called out, not glancing at the boys as they left King Cross.

Hongjoong followed his father, the familiar sights of King’s Cross Station blurring together as his thoughts raced. The reality of everything that had happened weighed heavily on his mind, but he tried to focus on the little moments, the warmth of his parents’ presence beside him and Mingi’s reassuring companionship.

With one last glance at the station, they stepped outside into the bright sunlight. Hongjoong felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road ahead may be uncertain, but with Mingi by his side and a strong support system at home, he knew they would face whatever challenges awaited them together.

[sainzfilm]

Heyyy, can I request an angst drabble where you work as Charles' communication manager but you're leaving Ferrari and there's always like a spark between the both of you but the both of you don't really act on it because Charles has a girlfriend (kind of like unrequited love with right person, wrong time?) I'm so sorry if it's really long, thank you <33

pairing: charles leclerc x manager!reader

a/n: SURPRISE i honestly couldn’t resist not posting hehehe :( so let’s try and see if im still shadowbanned, but at the same time you know what fuck it <3 definitely sucks to not get the attention for something you worked hard for buuuut that’s ok

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

It was obvious to everyone that Charles was your person and that you were his. The longing stares, the lingering touches, and even the way your eyes would light up upon hearing or seeing the other.

“You know you’re staring,” Carlos nudged you as the two of you sat on the couches of the Ferrari hospitality, “Have you told him?”

“I’m not staring, idiot,” You mumbled, averting your eyes and looking back at your clipboard, “I’ll tell him when I want to.”

“When you want to?” He chuckled, sipping from his water as he took a quick glance at Charles and his girlfriend, “You’re leaving in two weeks.”

Sighing as you set your clipboard down and pinched the bridge of your nose, “It’ll come easy. It’s not even hard to leave at this point.”

“If you say so, Y/N. You know, I’ll miss annoying you and your little crush,” Carlos chuckled, standing up from seeing Charles approaching, “I’ll see you later.”

As you waved him goodbye, you forced a smile from seeing the man that held your heart in his hands. Charles sat across you and crossed his arms, “Looks like you were in a pretty serious talk with Carlos.”

“He was just being annoying as usual,” You snickered, handing him your clipboard, “This is your schedule for the week, let me know if you want any changes.”

“I think most of it is pretty good,” Charles hummed, scanning the document quickly, “Just don’t take anything in the evenings though, boyfriend duties.”

“Oh okay, I see,” You nodded, taking back your clipboard from him, “Great to see her here, though. She seems nice.”

“She really is. I don’t know how I got so lucky,” He sighed dreamily, putting his hands behind his head, “It’s like all the stars aligned for me this time.”

If it were physically possible to see your heartstrings break one by one at that very moment, then Charles would’ve stopped talking about her.

“Happy for you,” You replied, your heart hurting from the lies that came out of your mouth, “I’ll just go and arrange a few things. Good luck with the race, Charles.”

Charles frowned upon hearing his full name, you never called him that. Not unless it was for formality purposes in front of the media and the rest of the team. It was always Cha when it was just the two of you. What had changed?

The race turned over quickly – a great result for both Ferrari drivers, claiming P1 and P2 respectively. You admired Charles up there on the podium with the biggest smile on his face as his national anthem played in the background.

As the celebrations ended, Charles immediately ran down and welcomed the cheers of the Ferrari team, as well as his girlfriend. You smiled sadly from afar, seeing him happy would be your utmost priority at all times. That’s what matters, his happiness. If it’s not you, then you’ll have to grow around the thorns piercing through your heart.

“Congratulations on P1, Charles,” You said, patting his shoulder, “Well deserved, it was a tough race.”

“Definitely tough,” He chuckled softly, putting the towel around his neck and looking at you momentarily, “Is everything okay?”

“It’s perfect. Nothing to worry about,” You forced a smile on your face, “C’mon, let’s get to the media pen.”

Charles frowned for the nth time today, he definitely knew something was up between the two of you. Walking to the media pen would consist of banter, nudges, or even racing each other to it. How come you were walking in front of him, but you felt so far away?

“Y/N, I know you like the back of my hand,” Charles mumbled, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him, “What’s wrong?”

Pulling back your arm, you shook your head with a smile you’d usually reserve for formalities, “Everything’s fine, Charles.”

“See, you say everything is fine,” Charles scoffed, “But, you call me Charles. You never call me that in the 2 years that you’ve been with me.”

You exhaled before turning back and walking towards the media pen, “Well then, I guess things have changed.”

It was safe to say that Charles was left dumbfounded, thoughts racing around his mind that went from ‘Had I done something wrong?’ to ‘Why is she being like this?’. Media interviews felt like torture to him, the agony was prolonged when you were by his side, but then it felt like you weren’t really there at all.

Charles caught up to you as the two of you walked out of the media pen, “Can we talk?”

“I was about to say the same thing,” You smiled sadly, clutching the clipboard to your chest, “Somewhere a little more private.”

You let Charles walk ahead back to his driver’s room. It was supposed to be two weeks from now, but then you decided to inform the higher ups that you’re leaving after this race. You figured it was better to rip the band-aid off completely rather than doing it bit by bit.

As Charles closed the door behind the two of you, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, “You go first.”

“I’ve decided that I’m…” You took a deep breath and further carried the heavy weight on your shoulders, “Fuck it. I won’t be here after this race anymore.”

“Oh, you’re taking a vacation?” Charles looked at you, raising an eyebrow, “That’s why you’re acting weird? Thinking that I wouldn’t let you?”

Sighing and shaking your head, you fought back the tears that were threatening to spill, “No. I’m leaving.”

Charles felt the immediate pang to his chest, feeling as if the world around him had stopped and it’s as if he suddenly couldn’t comprehend what you had just said.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? Wha- why? Have I done something wrong?”

Averting your gaze, you mumbled, “I’m just not happy here anymore.”

“Not happy? Y/N, I know you’re lying,” Charles ran a hand through his hair, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration, “What about the promises we’ve made to each other? You seeing me be a world champion and me seeing you go to medical school?”

“I’m not lying, Charles!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air and pacing around the room, “I just…I feel like staying here is torture.”

“Then fine, leave. I’m not stopping you,” He scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a few tears falling out, “It’s your choice.”

“You can have this back and give it to her instead,” You sniffled, taking off the charm bracelet and shoving it in his hand, “Thanks for everything, Charles.”

Charles didn’t reply to you, clutching the charm bracelet in his hand tightly and putting it inside his pocket. He wished you hadn’t given it back to him – so that at the very least, you’d have a piece of him with you, just like you to him. But, he thought that it isn’t what you wanted.

He hoped that you’d turn around to look at him one last time as you exited the room, leaving the door open. for him to watch you walk out. But you didn’t, and that was all that Charles needed to know that you were not only leaving Ferrari but also his life.

[gh0stxp]

hi,can you write some some Jane x reader cuddle?I just feel like she would be a good cuddler

"Romantic" headcanons of Jane the killer (Cuddles are included)

🧸ྀི English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 🤍

! Warning ! -> I did it for any gender ‹𝟹

─────────────୨ৎ──────────────

🎭˚.⋆☾ Jane might seem tough, but since you started dating, she has always been very sweet to you ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ She is a good cook, and of course she asks if you've eaten today to make sure you're okay ♡‧₊˚

Jane: "Have you eaten today, darling?"

Y/N: "Ehh...I forgot-"

(She won't be angry, just sad)

Jane: "I will make something for you to eat"

🎭˚.⋆☾ She loves to give you kisses, on the lips, cheeks, forehead, hands, neck (everywhere) ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ Cuddling with her is always so comfortable and warm, she lets you rest your head on her chest if you want, and she will caress your hair ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ If someone from Slendermansion hurts you, she will not hesitate to beat them, and will take good care of you after that ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ She will buy you gifts of things she knows you like ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ She will treat you as if you were something very fragile, with all care and love ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ Loves to cuddles with you while watching movies ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ Do you need someone to talk to? She's all ears ♡‧₊˚

🎭˚.⋆☾ She will ask if she can choose your outfits ♡‧₊˚

Y/N: "I'm going outside to buy some things"

Jane: "Can I choose your outfit?.."

Y/N: "...Yeah you have a good style"

🎭˚.⋆☾ She likes it when you take a bath with her, and she's not shy to ask ♡‧₊˚

Jane: "I'm going to take a shower, do you want to come?"

🎭˚.⋆☾ Love it when you rate her outfit (she does it on purpose to make you blush because she thinks it's cute) ♡‧₊˚

─────────────୨ৎ──────────────

(I don't even know if I managed to do it seem like her ૮꒰ “ . . ꒱ა)

PS: Only after doing this, I realized that you wanted to know what it would be like with the cuddles with her, but I hadn't read it properly at the time I was going to do it, sorry ✋😭

Byee!! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

[bumpkinnnnn]

Iwaizumi Hajime ִֶָ☾. Fluffy Headcanon‧₊˚ ☁️

Iwaizumi, Bro. Just thinking about him gives me butterflies. 

Hajime is by far one of the most gentleman among all. I would say that he is a type of boyfriend who always collect all the details about you, for example, how cooked you like your fried eggs to be, or how you prefer your stuff animal to be rabbits than bears. 

He loves hugging you from the back and resting his chin on your shoulder, rocking you softly and patting your head. He often wakes you up accidentally with the aroma of the dishes he makes for you every morning. 

After a long day of work/class, Iwaizumi would love to take care of his little princess, just to freshen your day to be better, without even knowing that your day was already refreshed since the moment that you saw him on the couch, waiting for you to come home.

He likes it when you call him Hajime, for some reason it makes him blush every time. Hajime seems to be a tough serious kind of guy, but the inside is just so soft, sometimes softer than you think he would be. He would be mad at you if you ignored him on purpose or cut him off while he was telling you how his day was. The easiest way to reconcile is to peck on his neck and ears. He IS very sensitive with his ears, it makes him shiver when you nibble on it while apologizing cutely. He would turn all red and laugh it off. 

He is a bit fussy sometimes, he would randomly pick on you for making things a mess after a meal, or tripping over some non-sense object on the floor, but doing that just so you got a reminder to be more careful next time, that’s why, he is just a protective boyfriend. 

He is sometimes afraid that you would be interested in his friends more than him, because he doubts himself a lot sometimes, and you know, having someone so good-looking with such an egoistic personality like Oikawa around his side, how can someone not be anxious. But you’ll make sure he never feels that way, cause you will ALWAYS prefer him the most for sure. 

He gives BIG CAT vibes, especially a black cat, the one that is super sweet and loving. He loves to sit quietly with you, listening to you and the story about your day is one of the things he is always looking forward to doing each day. He also enjoys talking to you about your future, like, how many kids you guys are planning to have and what do you imagine your life would be like in 10 years time. 

Hajime LOVES to play with your hair, and he is SUPER gentle with it, he likes to braid and curl your hair even if it looks very messy at first but he thinks one day he’ll be better with it, and he would like to do your hair for you so that you can do your makeup while he’s styling your hair. He would also help you choose your outfit every time you needed his opinions. But he’ll make sure to tell you everytime that you look good in everything you wear anyway.

**Ayyy I'm back**

Let me introduce you to my Haikyuu Sweetheart, Iwa-chann!

I hope this makes you in love with him like I do hehe.

Thanks for dropping by!

[suna-rinn]

cosita bonita- m. o’hara

IN WHICH- miguel o'hara finds you positively insufferable. (it goes both ways.)

warnings: so much fucking tension omfg r u kidding me just bang already, miguel is honestly an asshole im staying accurate to character (that’s a joke bc he’s honestly more flirty than he would ever be) did i mention that there’s a lot of tension yall should just kiss, he’s also so awkward it’s almost laughable

A/N: i’m so sorry i’ve been MIA ive been writing full blown fanfics on wattpad its honestly kind of embarrassing

A/N P2: i google translated all the spanish. please feel free to correct me; i’m a speaker of english, mandarin, and japanese, so i really don’t expect it to be correct.

                 •───⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

sometimes, your boss was a complete, total piece of shit. you wish you knew what you were signing up for when hobie, the stupid little idiot, dragged you along with him to his first day on earth 2099, a long way from your shared world of earth 616.

needless to say, you were most certainly not welcome. first things first, you hadn’t even been invited, nor had you really wanted to come. hobie had quite literally dragged you, clamping a tight hand around your wrist and pulling you through the portal with him. 

upon arrival, he had stolen a bracelet from one of the spider-people, slapped it on your wrist, gave you a forceful fist-bump and screamed, “anarchy! yeah?!”

well, shit. how were you supposed to deny that?

inevitably, time came for you to be kicked out approximately two minutes later, when the one and only spider-man of earth 2099 found out he had an unwelcome guest on his world. the look he’d casted you was one of sheer disdain, and you certainly wouldn’t have minded leaving on the spot.

but hobie brown could always be a blabbermouth when he wanted to be. you were useful, he claimed- willing to get your hands dirty when others weren’t, knowing what had to be done. you’d always taken up the part of the spider-punk job that hobie had been hesitant to do back at home- helping people simply came with the radioactive bite. 

that- that did intrigue miguel. miguel o’hara was a harsh, harsh man- but only because he had to be. he was the spider-man that the people needed; not the one they wanted. 

and you and him seemed to be in awfully similar shoes.

         •───⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“another tough day?” hobie sniffed, flopping down next to you, draping his legs over your lap. up above, miguel looked down distastefully, wrinkling his nose in disdain at the unprofessional display.

“the day is always tough when you work with him.” you huffed back, jabbing your thumb upwards, bringing hobie’s attention to your boss. “hey, new girl! you’re sharing an office with me so i can keep an eye on you! hey, new girl! get me a coffee, if you can even manage to find the cafeteria! hey, new girl! cleanse lyla’s storage for me, if you can even figure out how to do it! hey, new girl-”

“are you finished?” miguel sighed, platform slowly descending, screens wiping blank. “that isn’t what i sound like.” 

“yeah?” you sneered, pulling up a new tab on your monitor- security footage of the room. 

“hey, new girl!” the crappy monitor speaker barked, scratchy. “make yourself useful and get a coffee, yeah? gracias, cosita bonita.”

miguel grunted in annoyance, taking a deep sip from the coffee you’d gotten an hour earlier, physical proof of your labor. you raised an eyebrow at hobie, as if saying, ‘you see this shit?’

“cosita bonita, huh?” hobie whistled, sliding his feet off your lap, and facing miguel. “interesting...” miguel avoided his insinuations, merely raising an eyebrow. 

“aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“aren’t you supposed to be working?” hobie retorted, eyes sliding over to you subtly. miguel grimaced, narrowing his brows. “ay, man. my entire thing is not workin’ unless i want to. down with the system.” 

“get out.” miguel groaned, hand waving mindlessly in the air. “i’ve had enough of you for one day.” 

“tough crowd!” hobie crowed, standing from his seat in surrender. he ruffled your hair- an act of familial-like affection that you’d grown to accept, although you never stopped complaining about the way that it fucked up your hair. “stay focused, boss man, yeah?”

“leave!” miguel shouted at his retreating figure. when the coast was clear, his eyes slid back to you, noticing that you were now back to mindlessly scrolling through reports, blowing a bubble of gum between your lips, almost the size of your face. “¿qué tiene tu linda cabecita en un giro?“ (what’s got your pretty little head in a twist?)

“hm?” you blinked, losing focus and popping the bubble. it exploded all over your lips, and you clicked your tongue in annoyance, before using your tongue to pry the areas that were sticking back into your mouth. miguel urged himself to pay attention, and stop staring at stupid things. “what’d you say?”

“what’re you working on?” he corrected himself swiftly, leaning slightly over your table, head hanging over the double monitors. you tried to ignore him- jesus, did the man ever skip back day-?!  “better be workin’ hard, if you got time to fool around with hobie.”

“sorting through the fuckin’ reports that you don’t want to do.” you sniffled in annoyance. “one day you have me killin’ people, the next day you have me doing secretary work. one day, i swear-”

“-you swear what?” he cut in, leaning over further. you glanced up, tensing when you realized his face was just a few inches away from yours. “hm? what were you saying, cosita bonita?” (pretty little thing)

“...” you gaped, hands frozen still over the keys of the keyboard, before blinking a few times and snapping out of it. you cleared your throat, eyes skimming back over the report you were working on. miguel frowned, leaning back. “nothin’. don’t worry about it, anata.” (japanese for ‘darling, dear.)

“you wanna get me another coffee?” he sighed, standing straight up, ready to go back to sitting at his platform. “i finished the one you got me.” 

“i ain’t your maid.” you retorted, closing out the report you just finished. “if you want me to be one, you gotta pay me better.” 

“o podrías dejar de hacerte la dura y salir conmigo.” (or you could stop playing hard to get and go out with me.) he grunted in annoyance. 

you powered off your PC, standing from your spinning chair and sitting on the front of your desk. “nunca me pediste que saliera contigo, idiota.” (you never asked me to go out with you, you dense idiot.)

he stared at you, unfurling his arms from their tight grip on each other. “¿tú hablas español?”

“hobie dijo que yo era multilingüe cuando nos conocimos. ¿por qué diablos no sabría español?“ (hobie said i was multilingual when we first met. why the hell wouldn’t i know spanish?) you squinted your eyes. “not very smart of you, boss man.”

“¡¿por qué no me lo dijiste antes?!” (why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?!) he gripped his hair in disbelief, gawking at you. “shit, man! that’s embarrassing!” 

“sure.” you shrugged, grinning devilishly. “but it was funny. hobie and i thought it was hilarious- why do you think he’s got a shit-eating grin every time he comes in here?”

“eres insufrible.“ (you’re insufferable.) he clenched his fist. “por favor, joder, sal conmigo.“ (please fucking go out with me.)

“tal vez, si me pagas lo suficiente.” (maybe, if you pay me enough.) you snarked. he pinched your side harshly, causing you to yelp. “ow! fuck, okay! do you always harass women into going on dates with you?!”

“no.” he deadpanned. “only when they’re as difficult and annoying as you.”

[user777h]

✫☼☾☁ 𝝡𝝞𝝙𝝢𝝞Ᏽ𝝜𝝩 Ɍ𝝚𝝙𝝚𝝡𝝦𝝩𝝞𝝤𝝢 ☁☾☼✫

TROPE LIST: Romance, Healing, Injury, Betrayal, Comfort, Redemption, Urban, CharacterDevelopment, UnexpectedMeeting, Intimacy

Word count :440 (I think so anyways🤭)

As the pulsating lights of the nightclub faded into the dimly lit alleyway, Y/N couldn't shake off the sting of betrayal. Her heart pounded with a mix of anger and sadness as she replayed the scene of her boyfriend's infidelity over and over in her mind. She needed fresh air, away from the suffocating atmosphere of the club, away from him.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that seeped through her skin. The alleyway seemed to stretch endlessly, its walls looming over her like silent witnesses to her turmoil.

Then, amidst the shadows, she noticed a figure slumped against the wall. At first, she hesitated, her instincts warning her of danger. But as she drew closer, she saw the telltale signs of distress—the way his shoulders sagged, the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

"Are you okay?" Y/N's voice cut through the stillness, tentative yet filled with concern.

The figure stirred, and in the faint glow of the streetlight, she could make out his features—sharp and angular, with eyes that held a guarded intensity.

Seonghwa. The name came to her in a fleeting moment of recognition. He was known as the resident bad boy of the neighbourhood, always seen with a swagger in his step and a glint of mischief in his eyes.

But now, as he looked up at her, there was something different about him. His usually confident demeanor was replaced by a vulnerability that sent a pang of empathy coursing through her veins.

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice hoarse with pain.

Y/N's eyes narrowed as she took in his appearance. His clothes were torn, blood seeping through the fabric, and bruises marred his once flawless skin. It was evident that he had been in a fight, and from the looks of it, he hadn't come out unscathed.

"You don't look fine," she retorted, her tone laced with determination. "Let me help you."

Seonghwa's gaze flickered with uncertainty, as if weighing his options. For a moment, Y/N thought he might refuse her offer, but then he nodded, albeit begrudgingly.

With gentle hands, Y/N began to assess his injuries, her fingers tracing the contours of his face with utmost care. Each touch seemed to elicit a sharp intake of breath from him, but he made no move to stop her.

As Y/N worked to clean and bandage Seonghwa's wounds, she couldn't help but notice the lines of pain etched across his face. With each touch, his muscles tensed, his breath hitching in his chest. It was evident that he was in intense pain, yet he bore it with a stoicism that spoke volumes about the battles he faced every day.

Feeling a twinge of intimidation in the presence of the notorious bad boy, Y/N hesitated before gently placing a hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort she could muster. "You... you don't have to pretend," she stammered, her voice faltering slightly. "It's okay to... to let yourself feel it." Seonghwa's gaze softened for a fleeting moment, his guard momentarily lowered in the face of her timid compassion. In that brief instant, Y/N saw beyond the tough exterior, recognizing the vulnerability hidden beneath. And though she was intimidated by the enigmatic aura he exuded, she vowed to stand by his side, offering support in any way she could.

As she tended to his wounds, a strange sense of intimacy settled between them, binding them together in a shared moment of vulnerability. It was as if the walls that separated them had crumbled away, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered emotion in their wake.

"I don't need your help," Seonghwa muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N paused, her gaze locking with his. "Maybe not," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean you have to suffer alone."

For the first time since they met, a flicker of something akin to gratitude crossed Seonghwa's features. It was gone in an instant, replaced once again by the mask of indifference he wore so well.

As Y/N continued to tend to his injuries, she couldn't help but wonder what had led him to this moment—to be alone and injured in the dead of night, seeking solace in the shadows of an alleyway.

But she knew better than to pry. Some wounds ran deeper than others, hidden beneath layers of pain and regret.

When she had done all she could for him, Y/N stepped back, her hands stained with blood and her heart heavy with unspoken words.

"Thank you," Seonghwa murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city.

Y/N offered him a small smile, a silent promise of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

As they parted ways, each lost in their own thoughts, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that their encounter was more than just a chance meeting—it was the beginning of something unexpected, something that had the power to heal even the deepest of scars.