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nyctoaerah · 7 months ago

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⋆♱⋆THINKING ABOUT...

Content Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Fluff, Smut, Masturbation (M), Oral (F receiving), Perv! Sanemi. Reader is the same age as Sanemi, Filth. Mdni.

Pairings: Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem! Tsuguko Reader.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 loves admiring you from afar, and never confessed his feelings for you. He’s always making sure that you’re safe whenever you’re on a solo mission while justifying and convincing himself that he’s just being a responsible hashira and totally not a creepy stalker. After all, a responsible hashira needs to protect his tsuguko, right?

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always mask his obsession attraction and love by being all grumpy and pushing you to your limits during training, only to spoil you and be gentle to you afterwards. He just really likes giving you mixed signals.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 doesn’t allow you to go on missions with other people — especially not with those lower ranking demon slayers, he only lets you go on solo missions, or missions with the hashiras and him. He doesn’t let you go on missions with Giyuu and Tengen though.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 intimidates people who tries to approach you. Why bother talking to them? You have him after all. He is stronger and more capable than them after all.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 can read but can’t write since he never really got proper education and he spent his life slaying demons, so he mostly asks you to teach him how to write, but he’d end up getting flustered when you would grasp at his hand and help him how to properly write the letters.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 cooks food for you and acting like your husband instead of your predecessor. He loves cooking foods for you, loving the way your eyes would lit up and lovin’ the way that you would smile and thank him.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always insist on giving you a massage, after a strenuous training session, his hands kneading away the tension in your muscles. He’d murmur apologies for pushing you so hard, but he’d end up saying that the only reason why you’re so sore because you’re too weak.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always allow you to join him soak in the hotspring in his estate. However, whenever you would bathe with him, his cheeks would flush crimson, and he would avoid meeting your gaze, because his fuckin’ mind would start to conjure inappropriate things.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 has zero tolerance for anyone disrespecting you. Catch him overhearing even a whisper of slander about you? He’ll make sure to make the person shut up and makes sure to make their life miserable.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 absolutely hates it whenever he hears that you’ve been injured and ends up scolding the shit outta you and making you not go on missions for some weeks and not letting you out of his sight.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 started having weird dreams of you — however, this time it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, and innocent like the last one.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself getting a wet dream about you, where he was on his knees before you, his mouth eagerly devouring your dripping cunt, tongue swirling skillfully over your needy clit, and eliciting sweet, desperate moans from your lips.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ended up waking up with a feverish body and flushed face and a cock that’s stiff and aching from the steamy dreams that had him moaning in the dead of night like a bitch in heat.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 let out a frustrated groan as he saw the bulge in his pants, because damn, he despised jerking off and he rarely did it because he thought that it’s just a ‘waste of time’, but he couldn't resist giving himself a little pleasure, his dick was just begging for it after all.

Sanemi shot a frustrated glare at the prominent bulge straining against his pants, his annoyance growing at the sight of the small, glistening wet spot that adorned the fabric.

Did he cum in his pants while sleeping or was it because his dick is licking pre? Either way, he didn’t liked it.

“Fuck...”

he grunted in exasperation, a slight shift in his stance prompting him to swiftly unbuckle his belt.

With a smooth motion, he let his pants drop down to his mid-thigh, a wince crossing his face as his cock sprung free, slapping against his abdomen with a lewd sound.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” His eyes widened slightly at the sight of how hard he is.

Sanemi sighed as he hocked a thick wad of saliva into his palm, and winced slightly as he grabbed the base of his cock, feeling it pulsate in his hand and ooze precum.

“What the fuck am I even doing?”

He muttered, his hand trembling as he slid it along his length, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he dragged his thumb over the sensitive tip, feeling the slickness there.

“This is such a waste of time,”

he grumbled underneath his breath.

“You better behave after I take care of you, you hear me?” He chastised his dick as if it has a mind of its own as he started to moved his hand up and down his cock.

“Stupid fucking hormones,”

he cursed, his grip tightening around his cock. He adjusted his hand for better leverage, and he made sure to press his fingertips against the sensitive underside with each stroke, relishing the way the veins pulsed beneath his touch.

He sat on the futon, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, the sounds of lewd squelching and his hand moving vigorously over his dick echoing in the room.

It was a relief that today was his day off, free from any missions or distractions.

But the memory of the wet dream that had left him throbbing and aching still pissed him off, because what the fuck, he was supposed to relax and get the sleep he rarely get instead of waking up in the middle of the night and jerking off just because a dream had him all wet and bothered!

Thoughts of you suddenly invaded his mind as he stroked himself, his heavy breathing mixing with the dirty sounds of his fists moving against his slick cock.

Gripping tighter, he recalled the taste of your cunt in his tongue, and it was a phantom sensation that felt too real to be a mere dream.

He started to stroke himself faster, breathing heavily as he started to fantasize about the things that he wants you to do to him.

He wanted you to sit on his face, suffocate him with your thighs, and smother him.

He wants you to use him.

He couldn’t help but close his eyes and let his fantasy take over. The image of your hands moving on his cock flashed through his mind.

“Fuck, [Name]...” he groaned. Imagining that it was your fingers expertly coaxing pleasure from him instead.

The mere thought of you whispering filthy words in his ear sent a shiver down his spine, and a low whine escaped his lips, the muscles in his abdomen tensing and contracting with pleasure as he nears his release.

“fuckk, just a little bit more...”

He said as a whine escaped his lips.

He was about to cum until he suddenly heard a knock on his door.

“Shinazugawa-Sama? Are you alright? I’ve heard some weird sounds coming from here...”

He heard your voice say, and he froze.

Fuck... He forgot that you also lived with him.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄��𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: ❤️‍🔥𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐨.<𝟑

#⌞𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 夜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬📝 ⌝#sanemi #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer #kny smut #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x you #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinaguzawa #yandere kny #yandere sanemi

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enhard · 7 months ago

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park sunghoon — “birthday sex”

pairing: best friend!p. sh x fem!reader

: you celebrate your birthday with your friends. who knew that your best friend had a special present to offer?

cw: SMUT, everything is consensual, implied first time, car sex, alcohol usage, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (both receiving), squirting on face, making out, spitting, somewhat pussy drunk sunghoon, fluff (if you squint)

this is so long for no reason ejrisjsjssk

not proofread, specially made this for my wife 🩷 happy birthday love !

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“WAKE UPP!!” is all you hear in your ears while being half asleep. you jump out of bed terrified, then sigh when you see that it’s just heeseung. you refuse to make eye contact being mad pissed that he woke you up like this.

“well… happy birthday grumpy!! you have so much to do today. come in the kitchen, jay made breakfast.” he adds, smiling at you while you’re fuming trying not to curse him out.

“k..” is all leaves your mouth, pairing it with a death glare, giving heeseung the sign to leave. he luckily gets it before you jump him so you start getting ready. you spent the night before in their dorm, in their spare room. you decide to look through the dresser to see if you can find any clothes to wear for the day since you didn’t bring any..

you find a grey hoodie, you can tell it’s one of theirs but you just shrug your shoulders to yourself and wear it. you take off your shirt, with your bare back at the door since you didn’t wear a bra to sleep.

right as you were almost putting your hoodie on, sunghoon comes in through the door. he freezes seeing your bare back like that, and he does stare. but he quickly apologises and closes the door when you scold him to get out.

it wasn’t alot and.. he did see you in a swimsuit before, this couldn’t be any worse right? why is he feeling different about this? well he just bites his lip, gives himself a slap over the head and sits down with the others.

you’re mad embarrassed, in shock even. but you quickly put the hoodie on and do your hair a bit. you go brush your teeth and awkwardly sit down at the dining table.

all members are smiling at you, about to say happy birthday. you slowly look up at them except sunghoon, giving them a smile.

jake breaks the silence by clearing his throat. “happy birthday y/n!! sooo… what plans do you have today?” you shrug your shoulders at him. “i’m not sure.. i was thinking about spending my day with you guys.. if that’s okay.”

sunghoon suddenly chokes on his ramen, looking at you with wide eyes. you glare back at him giving him a “what?”. he shakes his head, trying to swallow his food. his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with his swallowing. “nno im fine.. nothing”. you sigh at him and look back at jake.

sunoo furrows his eyebrows at the hoodie you’re wearing. he points at it while pouting his lips. “isn’t that sunghoon’s hoodie?” your eyes widen again. “..huh?” . sunghoon looks a bit embarrassed remembering what happened before. “you can keep it..” he says, looking down. —

you all finish eating what jay made, and start getting ready to attend a bar for your birthday. the led lights from the dark room are shining in your eyes, seeing so many people there. you notice jungwon and go up to him. he made you a flower crown, softly putting it on your head. you smile at him widely. “thank you won, seriously it’s so pretty!” he smiles back, “anything for our queen afterall.”

you notice sunghoon staring at both of you, then looking away when you make eye contact. “the fuck??” you think. what is wrong with sunghoon today? he’s always so nice, why is he avoiding you now? well still. you brush it off to hang out with the others.

your girl friends are there too, dancing to certain songs with sunoo and riki. you laugh at them by how not in sync they are it’s actually hilarious. then you notice heeseung and jay playing a game involving shots at the bar. you go up to them, trying to lift up your mood a bit. “heyyy guys, what are you doing?” “oh! y/n ‘sup! wanna join us?” heeseung says. “you know what, sure. give me that.” you down 2 shots before thinking its enough for now.. you don’t want to get too drunk.

you start dancing along with the others, enjoying yourself and smiling.. until someone grabs your hand. it’s jake. “hey y/n .. let’s go outside, the others are waiting. we got a surprise for you.” you get a bit confused but you hold jake’s hand tighter, letting him guide you outside. you see the others sitting on a big blanket under a tree very close to where you are. you walk with jake up to them, seeing a lit up cake in the middle. you smile, appreciating their gesture. sunoo picks the cake up to hand it to you while they start singing you happy birthday.

“happy birthday to you,

happy birthday to you,

happy birthday dear y/n,

happy birthday to you!”

they all sing at the same time with big smiles on their faces. the sun is out already, yet your face lights up with the light from the candles. after they finish singing, you make a wish and blow the candles. they clap and sunoo screams out of excitement. you put the cake in a box to bring home. “now.. the presents!” sunoo says. you get pretty shocked that they even got you presents but you sit down in between sunoo and jake, smiling at them. “guys.. you didn’t have to..”

“nonsenseee!! of course we had to! you’re the best.” sunoo smiles at you.

they all take turns giving you a symbolic present or the stupidest but cutest present you’ve ever seen. no in between. you notice that sunghoon didn’t give you anything but.. you don’t pay much attention to him, being busy thanking them all and giving them hugs. “thank you.. guys seriously you’re the sweetest.” they all smile at you, standing up finally. “well, what are we waiting for? let’s go party now.” riki says. they all nod, running back to the building. you’re the last one to stand up so you’re a bit behind.

then..

you feel sunghoon’s hand grabbing yours, forbidding you from leaving. “wait.” he says in a low voice. before you can reply, he pulls you into an embrace. your bodies so close to each other, holding eye contact.. you were freaking out a bit. “hoon..what are you-“ but before you can finish your sentence, he pulls you into a kiss. you two never kissed before, yet you loved it so much. you push your lips onto his even harder, beginning to make out right there.

you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to take steps back. you break the kiss to look into his eyes then back to his lips. “hoon.. should we really be doing this?” “what, you don’t want to?” “i do… i really do.” sunghoon smiles, grabbing your hand again. “alright then, let me show you my birthday present.” he walks with you to their shared car, making you get in the backseat. you lay down, waiting for him to get on top. as soon as he does, you start kissing him again, craving his lips endlessly.

“take my shirt off.” he says. your eyes widen a bit but you do exactly as he says. you lift his shirt above his head, revealing that abdomen you missed seeing each winter. only then you realised how badly you needed him, and how badly he needed you.

you move your hands down to caress his body, stopping your hand at his pants. you get this sudden urge to please him. you want to see all his reactions.

you manage to flip both of you over, now you being on top of him, looking down to focus on his bulge. you quickly unzip his pants and take his boxers off. sunghoon was surprised how fast you were too but, he does not mind a bit. you stare at his cock, already leaking precum, looking so pretty, so untouched. you grab it to start stroking him, but sunghoon grabs your wrist, making you stop. “spit on it first.” and you do. that lubes it up pretty good so you keep going.

you stroke him a few times but then you decide to just get over your fears. you move your body downwards, now facing his cock. “let me suck it, please?” i mean, how could he refuse. he nods once, sitting up to grab onto your hair. you start licking at his tip, slowly pushing him in your mouth. you start choking a bit but he encourages you to keep going. so you start bobbing your head up and down, making sure to get his whole length in. he lets out small moans, assuring you that you’re doing well.

you never thought you would do this with your best friend but you don’t regret it. in fact your subconscious has been waiting for this moment.

since he sat up, you can’t look at him anymore, so you push him back down so you can make eye contact again. the way you pushed him caused him to pull at your hair, you don’t mind but he really thought he hurt you so he caresses your head a bit to ease the pain.

this keeps going for a pretty long time, drooling all over his cock getting so messy all of a sudden, he’s even getting closer to cum and you can feel that. you try sucking him as fast as you can, the lewd wet sounds overpowering the silence from the car.

when he’s right about to cum, you pull your head away still drooling a bit. you pump him a few more times with your fist but he actually pushes YOU down now. he needs to taste you right now, and he’s going to show you what he can do. he looks up at you for reassurance before taking off your clothes, one by one.. leaving you in your underwear. he slides your panties off, revealing that pussy he’s been dreaming about.

“fuck.. baby you’re perfect.” he bites his lip, getting ready to go down on you. he starts with licking your folds, moving up to your clit.. sucking and licking that bud so roughly. it caught you off guard but you don’t want him to stop.. you grab onto his hair tightly, throwing your head back. after he moves back down to your folds, to insert his tongue inside you. he whines a bit as he’s eating you out and those vibrations made you squeeze his head between your thighs. you’re moaning constantly like your mouth is chatterbox. he uses his hands to part your thighs again, keeping them there. you can barely hold on anymore, getting close to your release. “cum on me love..” he says between licks. his words giving you goosebumps, you squirt all over his face.

he gives your pussy a little kiss before standing up, now you can barely look at him.. he’s drenched. you try to wipe it off how you can but his face is still glistening from your wetness. he smiles at you to reassure you again that he enjoyed it. a bit too much.

“please fuck me hoon.. fuck me already i need it please..” you’re becoming so desperate for his cock like you’re about to explode. he doesn’t keep you waiting though, he gets into position, stroking himself a few times before shoving his cock inside you. you’re gonna drive him crazy with how good you feel around him. you’re so wet it’s making his head spin.

he wants to fuck you dumb right now. but he needs to be patient for you. he lets you adjust to him and when you give him the signal, he thrusts into you like there’s no tomorrow. he makes sure not to hurt you but at the same time he’s bending your legs into a mating press just to get deeper inside you. he’s fucking you so rough the whole car is shaking with both of you worried that someone will catch you.

you’re both letting out such loud noises, moans snd curses that you swear someone from the bar could hear. he grabs your legs to place on his shoulders, just to fuck you until you can’t anymore.

after a bit of that, he finally grabs onto your thighs, as he’s about to cum. you clench around him out of pleasure, making it impossible for him to continue.

“fill me up..please fuck fuckfuck”

he fulfills your birthday wish. he cums deep inside you, still leaving small thrusts after he was done pumping.

he slowly pulls out, all that cum oozing out onto the seats.. heeseung won’t be very happy about this that’s for sure. but atleast you had an amazing time.

you pull him into a hug, kissing his neck a few times. you both catch up your breaths not actually believing what just happened .

you both help each other clean up but there’s no way you’re returning to that bar. you might as well go home.. but there’s one thing sunghoon forgot to say.

“happy birthday, pretty girl.”

#enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #enhypen #kpop bg #kpop

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imsofreakingtired · 7 days ago

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ok since the people are asking for a sequel to this fic... i must deliver 🫡

crawling back to you

content warning(s): angst - buT THERES A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR

"crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when you've had a few? 'cause i always do maybe i'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new."

~~~

Sevika catches you halfway back to the apartment. You are bathed in the neon light of the sign of the Last Drop several steps ahead, making you feel like a hologram. That might have been all you were to Sevika. A hologram. Something pleasant to look at, not tempting enough to touch.

“Baby,” she says, “let me explain.”

She’s not even out of breath. Your world is falling apart and she probably just decided to walk leisurely after you, as if you barely mattered more than just another one of her girls.

You avoid her gaze. “I thought you were busy tonight.”

“I am,” she snaps. “This is ridiculous.”

You’re silent.

“Did you actually think I was going to Babette's every night? You think I’d lie to you that way?”

“I don't know,” you hiss. “Would you?”

You know people are overhearing the two of you, but your anger bubbles over like a boiling vat of undiluted Shimmer. Sevika glares down at you, and you feel a twist in your heart. This is the end of everything. Even though she’s the one at fault, she’s the one with the records in Babette’s and not you, you feel like you’re the one pulling all the wrong strings.

Your question hurts her more than she would ever let on. Of all the people who’d accuse her of lying, she never thought the dagger would be driven home by you. She wants to tell you she’s sorry, that she doesn’t know why she went into the arms of a stranger rather than risk being vulnerable to you. She wants to tell you all she was trying to do was protect you from her. She wants to ask: if she showed you the cracks in her skin where she’d broken and put herself together again, would you still stay?

But she can’t, because now there’s a wall of ice between you and you are already turning away. This time, she doesn’t follow.

When she comes home late that night, the apartment is empty.

~~~

You have found a small, run-down inn where the rats skitter beneath the floorboards and the water doesn’t run half the time, and you’ve sworn every single person you know to secrecy regarding your whereabouts. Every day that goes by feels heavier without Sevika.

You smoke Shimmer vaporizers to escape the lonely silence of the room, you find work in a scrap metal shop and spend every waking minute of the day trying not to miss her. Trying not to fall into that endless pit of remorse. Go back, go back, get the fuck back and apologize. She was a mess when you met her. You know she can’t live without you. You’re terrified she might do something dangerous and reckless to herself, that she might hurt herself or worse. You find yourself wondering at night if she had eaten dinner or if she had just gone to sleep after a smoke and a shot of whiskey. You have nightmares of seeing her dead at your feet.

One night it rains like Zaun has never seen before. It’s like the sky has opened up like a wailing mouth, or a gaping wound. Torrents of rainwater rush between buildings and submerge basements. It’s a night no one in their right mind would ever bother going out in.

So of course that’s the night you hear the banging on your door.

You open it, a broken bottle in hand, ready for a threat. You think it could be the manager, a sneaking thief who stealthily raises the price of the rooms with each passing week.

Instead you see Sevika.

Her prosthetic arm is detached and she isn’t wearing her cloak. Her hair is plastered wetly against her face. Her clothes are drenched.

Your first thought: is she out of her mind?

Your second: oh my gods. She’s lost her mind.

“How did you know I was here?” You demand loudly. “Are you trying to catch your death?”

The second part of the sentence comes out as instinct, and you’re embarrassed but it’s too late. Her brows were knit together like thunderclouds, but her expression softens slightly when she hears the concern in your voice. She had been preparing herself for anything. She was convinced you had already found someone new, and were living with them. Now there’s hope. You might still care about her.

“Get the fuck in here,” you snap, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into the room as if she’s a misbehaving child. You yank the moth-eaten sheets off the bed and throw them around her shoulders. “Are you drunk? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Fear pierces through your irritation. Has something happened? Is she sick? Is she running from something?

Sevika looks down at you, watching wordlessly as you try to rub the water off her skin. When you let go of her, she lets the sheets fall to the floor.

You throw your hands up helplessly. “What are you doing here? Who told you I was here?”

“You think I needed a gingerbread trail to find you?”

You fall quiet, cursing yourself inwardly. Sevika probably knew where you were since the day you left.

You know why she’s here. You can see it in her eyes, where all her unspoken emotions betray her. But she can’t translate them into words. She can’t say the words you need to hear.

You sit down on the bed with a heavy sigh. The room is silent but for the sound of dripping water. Finally you speak.

“Babette says you only went there once.” You look at her. “Why?”

She looks down. “I was drunk.”

“You gonna use that excuse every time from now on?”

“No,” she says sharply. “I thought—I thought I didn’t have you anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head, frustrated. “I don’t know. I don’t know, I just—I—”

She comes forward suddenly, and you instinctively draw back, thinking she might hit something. There’s a desperate look in her face that you’ve never seen before. But she doesn’t raise her hand. She kneels on the floor in front of you.

“Sevika, what—?”

“Take me back,” she pleads, her voice rough. “I swear it’ll never happen again, so—take me back.”

You try to stay angry. You try to push her away. But when you look in her dark grey eyes and see the tears standing on the lashes, you find you can’t do either. You feel the heat of her body against your knees, and as you slowly remove the string tying her hair and run your fingers through the wet strands you realize with a pang just how badly you missed her.

Sevika gives a sigh and lays her head down in your lap.

“You’re not entirely forgiven yet,” you tell her.

“I know,” she says, her voice muffled.

It’s as close as she’ll ever come to saying she’s sorry. You think it’s not a bad start.

~~~

note: your honor she is just a sad wet puppy in the rain and has done nothing wrong in her life ever 😭🙏

~~~

taglist~

@notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69 @beatdariceee @sevikaaaalover @intrnetrbl @ 00valentina-writes00 @zelluna @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @justhereforsubsevika @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @lez-zuha @mascdom @tiyawnyana

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika imagine #sevika angst #song: do i wanna know by arctic monkeys #sevika fanfic #sevika x female reader

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brazilsho · 8 months ago

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ kenji sato x gn ! reader

summary ; little scenario on how's like to wake up besides your infamous boyfriend !

context ; just fluff , kenji being a little whiny and clingy , during the time kenji takes care of emi , reverse comfort mentions . no proofread . bad writing (tired asf) .

the morning Sun breezed through the streets, awaking the city of Japan with a warm embrace of warmth as the people around started to waken up to do their daily duty and day.

near the island way back from the city of Japan, the nice large house was shining bright through the reflection of the sun, a loud chirp could be heard from the basement of the house,

the giant kaiju baby, emi, awaking from her slumber, snuggled up against the car, her father given her, she tiredly looked through the room only to be met by the owners AI, Mina, who was responsible for watching over the kaiju.

“good morning little emi, have you slept well?” Mina asked gently the baby, in return getting a happy chirp from emi after recognizing the robot, Mina decided to turn on some music that emi likes and gave her her breakfast, wanting to make sure that the owners of the house can be able to wake up peacefully after a long while.

As a matter of fact, Mina started to sense the sunlight become stronger through the ocean water that was around the basement and knew that a certain male upstairs would be awaken because of it.

the certain male, kenji, was laying in bed, the sunlight shining through the curtains of the rooms making the light shine right into his mesmerizing face, but his eyes meeting the sunlight frustrated his well needed slumber.

Kenji squirmed around with a little whine, squinting his eyes closed to avoid the light in his eyes, turning around to face you so that his back where facing the curtains and him burring his face in the crook of your neck.

You, of course, didn't had a problem with the sunlight, kenji's boarded back covered the entire view in front of you and it also didn't surprised you when you felt him clinging onto you in your light sleepy state.

the warmth of kenji's pleasant made you snuggle against him a little, placing your head against his chest while your eyes started to open carefully, still being a little sensitive with the bright sunlight that appears in the room.

the same goes to kenji, he could feel you leaning against him closely, making him wrap his arms around you and carefully open his eyes to look down at you, only to be meet with you already looking through your lashes at him,

his eyes sparkling with the sunlight reflecting them, showing off every detail in his eyes, making him look even more beautiful in your eyes, a smile formed at the corner of his lips as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

“Good morning my darling” Kenji said, his sleeping voice appearing and a honest soft looking smile became more visible on him, making you almost melt at the sight as a smothered look was shown in your face.

“Morning, able to got some hours of sleep?” You jokingly asked him, remembering how much of sleep he’s slacking because of emi. Kenji frowned a little which a whine as he tighten his hold on you as he threw his head back against the soft fabric of his pillow.

You let out a snicker and hugged kenji a little, only as much as possible, “Don't worry, I think emi is starting to get the scheduled of sleep, you've done enough for these couple of weeks for her.” You said, running your fingers across the soft skin of kenji’s chest in daydream.

Just as Kenji was about to be smuggled though, wanting to say that he wasn’t the only one but appreciated the words you given him, a loud cry was heard from the basement where emi still is, it seemed like that emi was getting bored of the music and wanted to see her parents.

All kenji could do was groan and turn around his head to burry it into his pillow as he lets out a scream in frustration, he loves emi yes, but he definitely is tired, especially from even the fact that he's not even close on being used to hearing a baby cry every minute it can get.

You though, didn't seem to have much problem with the giant baby, it felt like second nature to you but you yourself where a little frustrated to say the least, it's been a good while since you had some quality time with kenji,

not being able to get any time to just be in his company, it pained your delusional heart — and his too.

“I'll go to her, wake up whenever you want” You said, removing yourself from kenji's grasp which tighten the moment you said these words, him giving off a whine in desperate need of your company,

but you tapped his chest, asking to be removed from his warmth hold and with a little hesitation he allowed you to go, which you took as an opportunity to get out of his warmth, giving him a kiss on the lips which he definitely returned, before standing up and going to the elevator to the basement to calm down your girl.

Kenji just watched you, looking at you like you are the most precious piece of art in the world for him, he sat up and stretched before making his way to start off his day, thankful to have you with him.

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #ultraman rising #ultraman rising x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #emi ultraman #ultraman #netflix ultraman #🩷 • 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝔃𝓲𝓵𝓼𝓱𝓸 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 ྀི

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missarchive · 1 month ago

Text

cognitive dissonance pt 2 - spencer reid

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ part one

who? tutor!spencer reid x student fem!reader

category: fluff, smut

content warnings: NSFW MDNI!! fingering, munch!spencer, oral m. receiving, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie, snowballing, cum eating, lots n lots of praise

word count: 6k

a/n: happy new year beautiful people! part two is here!!! for the moment, I don’t have an upload schedule set up, however, I’m aiming for 1-2 posts per week :)

It had been two weeks since you’d last seen Spencer—fourteen days that felt like an eternity. Two weeks of tossing and turning in bed, chasing sleep that never came, as your mind replayed the details of your last tutoring session with him. It wasn’t just the academic concepts you’d reviewed together that stuck with you. No, it was the way he looked at you, his intense gaze lingering a little too long, and the way his voice softened when he spoke your name. The memory of his touch—gentle but deliberate—refused to fade, haunting your waking moments and creeping into your dreams.

Since then, communication had been sparse. A handful of texts here and there, each one polite, almost painfully casual. The conversations felt hollow, as if the weight of that evening had been neatly tucked away, never to be acknowledged again. You told yourself it made sense—he was a PhD student, after all, drowning in research, teaching, and responsibilities you could only imagine. Still, the silence gnawed at you. It was the kind of quiet that demanded answers you didn’t have, leaving you to fill the void with doubt and endless overthinking.

Was he avoiding you? Regretting what had happened? Maybe it was nothing to him—a fleeting moment he’d already forgotten. The thought made your chest tighten, a painful reminder of how much you cared.

You sighed deeply and flopped onto your bed, the soft glow of your phone screen illuminating your face as you scrolled through your messages. Your thumb hovered over his name, debating whether to text him. It was late—just past 11 p.m.—but sleep wasn’t an option. Your thoughts were too loud, a chaotic symphony of unanswered questions and lingering what-ifs.

And then, as if the universe had been reading your mind, your phone buzzed in your hand. The vibration startled you, and your breath caught as his name appeared on the screen.

Spencer: Still up?

Your heart leapt, the steady rhythm faltering as your pulse quickened. You sat up, gripping your phone tightly, your eyes scanning the words as if they might evaporate. Without letting yourself overthink, you quickly typed a response.

You: Yeah. What’s up?

The three dots appeared almost immediately, a sign that he was typing, and you held your breath. Each passing second felt like an eternity. Finally, his message arrived, and your heart did a little flip.

Spencer: Been thinking about you.

Heat rose to your cheeks, your face flushing as his words sank in. A rush of emotions swirled within you—excitement, nervousness, and an undeniable thrill. You typed back, trying to sound nonchalant, though your hands were trembling.

You: Oh? What about me?

The seconds stretched out again, the anticipation nearly unbearable. When his next message came, it was like a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

Spencer: About how good you looked on your couch.

Your stomach flipped, and your fingers hovered over the keyboard. His words carried a weight that sent shivers down your spine, reigniting memories you’d tried to suppress. Your reply came slower this time, careful but curious.

You: Is that so?

The response came swiftly, almost as if he’d been waiting for your permission to continue.

Spencer: Mmhm. I keep thinking about how soft you felt under my hands. The way you sounded when I touched you.

Your heart raced, pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. The line between apprehension and exhilaration blurred as you reread his message, your mind spinning with the possibilities of what might come next.

The air in your room felt suddenly stifling, heavy with the weight of anticipation and unspoken words. You had to remind yourself to breathe, each inhale shallow and unsteady. Your chest rose and fell as you glanced around the space, a futile attempt to ground yourself. Even though you were completely alone, a strange self-consciousness washed over you, as if someone might burst through the door and catch you in this intimate moment of vulnerability.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating your next move. Finally, you typed out a response, trying to inject a casual tone that you didn’t quite feel.

You: You’ve been busy, though. I figured you forgot about me.

The reply came almost instantly, faster than you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Forget you? Not possible.

Spencer: In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to show me again… tonight.

Your heart thundered in your chest, each beat loud and insistent, as if it might break free at any moment. You blinked at the screen, rereading his words to make sure you hadn’t imagined them. They weren’t casual; there was no mistaking his intent. His words were deliberate, confident—an invitation as clear as it was thrilling.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you typed, your pulse quickening with every keystroke.

You: Are you serious?

His response was immediate, as if he’d been waiting for your question.

Spencer: I’m already on my way.

Your eyes widened, the breath catching in your throat as you read his message. Time seemed to slow, each second dragging out as your thoughts raced. You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper aware of the clutter—the unmade bed, the pile of laundry in the corner, the books scattered haphazardly on your desk. Panic bubbled beneath the surface as you hurriedly straightened a few things, though you knew it wouldn’t make much difference.

Your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back.

You: What if I said no?

The pause before his reply felt agonizing, but when it came, it wasn’t what you expected.

Spencer: Then I’d turn around and leave you alone. But I don’t think you’re going to say no.

You stared at his message, the certainty in his words stirring something deep within you. He was confident but not presumptuous, giving you an out even as he made it clear he knew where this was heading. For a brief moment, you hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Then, with a shaky exhale, you typed your response.

You: You’re right. Door’s unlocked.

Your phone vibrated again almost instantly, his reply sending a shiver down your spine.

Spencer: Good girl.

The two simple words ignited something in you, a thrill coursing through your veins like wildfire. You set your phone down, your palms damp with sweat as you glanced at the door. The minutes that followed were excruciating, each one dragging on endlessly. The waiting made your nerves fray, anticipation twisting in your stomach like a coiled spring.

Finally, a soft knock broke the silence, sharp and precise. Your heart leapt into your throat as you stood, wiping your hands on your pants to steady yourself. Your legs felt like jelly as you walked to the door, your breath uneven and shallow.

When you opened it, there he was—Spencer. He stood with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed but his presence anything but. His eyes found yours immediately, and for a brief moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, as his gaze lingered, a slow, familiar smirk curved his lips. It was the same one that had been haunting your thoughts for weeks, and seeing it now sent a rush of heat through you.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of everything that had gone unsaid.

“Miss me?” Spencer asked, his voice warm with teasing confidence as he stepped inside without waiting for an answer.

He moved with an easy grace, his presence filling the space effortlessly. You closed the door behind him, your heart pounding like a drumbeat in your chest. He lingered by the entrance, his hands still tucked casually into his pockets, but his gaze was anything but idle. It swept over you deliberately, taking in every detail. For a moment, you were certain he could hear the rapid rhythm of your pulse.

“You seem nervous,” he remarked, his tone low and smooth, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a small gesture meant more to ground yourself than to project confidence. “Well, you did show up unannounced,” you replied, aiming for a tone of nonchalance, even as your voice betrayed a slight tremor.

He tilted his head in acknowledgment, his expression amused. “True,” he conceded, taking a single, measured step closer. His gaze remained fixed on yours, warm yet intent, as if he were studying you anew, unraveling layers you hadn’t realized were exposed. “But I had a feeling you wouldn’t mind.”

Your cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading over your skin that you couldn’t suppress. Still, you held his gaze, refusing to let him see the full extent of how deeply he affected you. “What gave you that idea?”

Spencer’s smirk deepened, his confidence unwavering. “You unlocked the door.”

The simple truth in his words made your breath catch, but before you could formulate a response, he closed the remaining distance between you. His hands rose with an unhurried confidence, cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity in his eyes. His touch was firm yet gentle, grounding yet electrifying, as he tilted your head slightly to ensure your eyes stayed locked on his.

“You don’t need to pretend,” he murmured, his voice softer now, rich with meaning. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, the touch featherlight but potent enough to leave your skin tingling. “I’ve been thinking about you every day since I left.”

The weight of his admission hit you like a wave, stealing your breath and leaving you momentarily speechless. His gaze held yours with such intensity that it felt like he could see right through you, every thought, every doubt laid bare before him.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want this again,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper, the vulnerability in your words hanging between you like a fragile thread.

His lips curved into a smile, softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something genuine, something that made your chest ache. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

The tension between you was electric, crackling in the charged silence that followed. Before you could second-guess yourself, your hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to tug him closer. His lips captured yours with a deliberation that stole your breath, the kiss unhurried but searing, as if he wanted to savor every second.

His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, the softness giving way to something far more urgent. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine, each touch igniting a fire that consumed you from the inside out.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his voice husky and filled with awe. His hands roamed over your back, his touch firm yet reverent, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you melted into him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. When his hands dipped lower, gripping your hips with just enough pressure to draw a soft gasp from your lips, he paused, pulling back just enough to search your face. His eyes, dark and filled with longing, studied you intently, his expression a mix of desire and quiet admiration.

“Still okay?” Spencer asked again, his voice calm but edged with a restraint that made your heart race.

“Yes,” you whispered, your hands gliding down to rest against the firm planes of his chest.

His lips curled into a soft smile as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good girl,” he murmured, the words low and velvety, sending a shiver down your spine.

He caught the subtle reaction instantly, his smirk deepening with satisfaction. Without breaking eye contact, his hands found your waist and gently guided you backward until your legs brushed the edge of the couch. The soft pressure behind his movements made it impossible to resist as he eased you down, following without hesitation. His body hovered over yours, the closeness making your skin tingle with anticipation.

Spencer’s lips found the delicate curve of your neck, each kiss deliberate, leaving a searing trail of heat in their wake. His hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of your sides. The warmth of his touch made you arch into him instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured against your neck, his voice dripping with admiration. “I missed this.”

The words sent a flutter through your chest, but before you could respond, his lips captured yours again, silencing every thought. His kiss was consuming, pulling you into a world where nothing else existed but him. His hands moved with practiced confidence, exploring every inch of you as though rediscovering territory he’d longed for since the last time.

Spencer’s lips left your mouth to trail down your neck again, pressing slow, lingering kisses that made your breath hitch. His hands pushed your shirt higher, sliding it up over your ribs, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that set you alight. He paused as his hands reached just below your bra, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours with a question unspoken.

His lips claimed yours again, this time more demanding, his teeth gently grazing your bottom lip before soothing the spot with his tongue. His hands slipped beneath the fabric of your bra, one palm cupping your breast with a touch that was both firm and reverent. The sensation pulled a soft whimper from you, and he smirked against your mouth, clearly pleased with your response.

“So sensitive,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles. The motion made your body arch into his touch, your breath hitching with every movement. “I could spend hours just figuring out what makes you react like this.”

The weight of his words, heavy with intent, sent a shiver down your spine. Your breath came in shallow gasps as his other hand slid down the curve of your side, his fingers finding your waistband. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes seeking yours for permission.

You nodded quickly, your need for his touch eclipsing any hesitation.

Spencer made quick work of the button and zipper, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers moved with deliberate precision, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that made your head fall back against the couch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and mischief. “So perfect.”

His words sent a flush of heat across your cheeks, but the gentle pressure of his fingers chased away any lingering self-consciousness. As he increased his rhythm, a soft cry escaped your lips, and his smirk widened.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice steady and sure. “Let me hear you. I want to know exactly how I’m making you feel.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt as your body responded to every calculated movement of his fingers. His lips returned to your neck, trailing soft kisses and playful nips down to your collarbone. The combination of his touch and his words unraveled you, leaving you at his mercy.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “You’re doing so well for me.”

The praise, his tone, and the intensity of his focus on you pushed you to the edge of control. You felt yourself teetering on the brink, the tension within you building to an overwhelming crescendo.

Spencer seemed to sense it, his movements adjusting with just enough precision to send you over the edge. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice both commanding and reassuring.

“Let go,” he said softly, his words a promise. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, the tension snapped, and your body trembled beneath his touch. A broken cry escaped your lips as waves of pleasure washed over you, each one more intense than the last. Spencer didn’t stop, his touch slowing but remaining steady as he guided you through every peak and valley, his voice a steady stream of soft praise in your ear.

When the last shudder left your body, he stayed close, his hands gentle as they traced soothing patterns along your skin. He pressed soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, and finally your lips, grounding you with his touch as the aftershocks faded.

“Beautiful girl,” Spencer murmured against your lips, his tone rich with warmth and affection, yet underscored by a quiet, unmistakable pride. His eyes, soft yet intense, held yours as though he wanted to etch this moment into his memory. “My beautiful girl.”

A shaky laugh bubbled out of you, your chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re... very good at that,” you managed, your voice still unsteady but carrying a faint edge of humor.

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound low and melodic, as his lips curled into a teasing smile. “At what?” he asked, the tilt of his head almost boyish, though his tone was anything but. “Tutoring?”

The deliberate smugness in his voice made your cheeks flush anew, the heat spreading over your skin in a way you were sure he noticed. You swatted at his arm, your touch light and devoid of any real intent.

“You know what I mean,” you said, the words soft but tinged with exasperation.

His grin widened, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing against yours in an almost playful gesture. “I do,” he admitted, his voice dropping into a hushed murmur that sent a ripple through you. “But I like hearing you say it.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture was fleeting, your amusement quickly giving way to a deeper warmth as his hand slid back up your side. His touch was steady and grounding, anchoring you in the present moment.

“Are you always this confident?” you asked, your voice quieter now, carrying a note of genuine curiosity that you couldn’t quite hide.

Spencer’s expression shifted subtly, the teasing edge softening as something more earnest took its place. His gaze swept over your face, lingering as though he was memorizing every detail. “Not always,” he admitted, his hand moving to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “But with you… it feels natural.”

The sincerity in his words struck a chord deep within you, and before you could think better of it, you leaned into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the safety and reassurance he offered. “I’ve never…” you started, your voice faltering as you searched for the right words. “No one’s ever made me feel like this before.”

Spencer’s eyes darkened slightly at your admission, a flicker of something possessive and raw flashing behind his gaze. His thumb drifted to your bottom lip, brushing against it with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

“Good,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that sent a shiver down your spine. “Because I don’t want to share you.”

The intensity of his words left you momentarily speechless, your thoughts scattered as his gaze locked onto yours, unwavering and full of intent. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unspoken promises.

Before you could summon a reply, Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was achingly slow and deliberate. His movements were measured, as though savoring every moment, his lips moving against yours with a precision that felt both practiced and deeply personal.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His touch was firm yet gentle, his presence an anchor as your emotions swirled around you like a storm.

Spencer pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as his breath mingled with yours in the quiet space between you. His eyes searched yours, as though seeking reassurance that you felt it too—that connection, undeniable and electric.

“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a flood of warmth spreading through you as you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.

"Spence," you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress as your fingers reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. The intimate gesture made his eyes flutter briefly, his expression softening as he focused on you.

"I want to try something," you continued, your voice laced with both anticipation and nervous energy.

"Mm, what's that?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, his eyes heavy-lidded as he gazed down at you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, a warmth blooming in your chest as you leaned in, brushing a tender kiss against his lips. “Something I’ve been thinking about for a while,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Will you let me?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, his analytical mind clearly at work as he tried to piece together what you meant. His hesitation wasn’t reluctance, just the natural curiosity that came with him wanting to understand.

“Of course,” he said finally, his voice soft yet steady, carrying an underlying trust that made your heart flutter. “Anything you want.”

A grin spread across your face, uncontainable in its sincerity, and you pressed another kiss to his jaw before moving with deliberate purpose. Without breaking eye contact, you slowly sank to your knees before him, your hands already reaching for the button of his jeans.

The shift in his expression was immediate—surprise flickering across his face before it quickly gave way to understanding. His pupils dilated, his lips parting as anticipation replaced his initial confusion.

“Oh,” he breathed, the word barely audible but thick with desire. “Yes, please.”

You didn’t respond verbally, letting your actions speak for you as your fingers deftly unfastened the button and slid down the zipper of his jeans. The fabric parted easily, and you guided it down his hips, revealing the outline of his already hard length straining against the material of his boxers.

Unable to resist, you leaned forward, pressing a soft, teasing kiss against the bulge. The sharp intake of breath he let out was all the encouragement you needed.

“Fuck,” Spencer hissed, his voice strained, his hands twitching at his sides as though he wasn’t sure whether to touch you or let you take the lead.

Your grin widened at his reaction, a heady sense of satisfaction coursing through you as your hands traveled down to tug his boxers lower. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed, and the sight sent a thrill through you.

Though you’d seen him countless times before, this felt different—more intimate, more charged. The proximity, the quiet hum of electricity between you, made your pulse quicken with anticipation.

Glancing up, you caught Spencer’s gaze, holding it as you wrapped a hand around his length. Your touch was light at first, tentative yet deliberate, and his groan in response sent a shiver down your spine.

His head tipped back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forced them open again, clearly unwilling to lose the connection between you. The way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the slight clench of his jaw as you stroked him—it was intoxicating.

You tightened your grip slightly, your strokes becoming more deliberate as you watched his expression shift. His breathing grew heavier, his hips beginning to rock forward in time with your movements.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice thick and low, his words barely audible over the sound of his own labored breathing.

You didn’t stop, your hand working in steady, measured strokes as you reveled in every sound, every reaction you drew from him. The way his lips parted, the slight hitch in his breath when your thumb brushed over the sensitive head—it all spurred you on, filling you with a sense of power and connection unlike anything else.

Spencer’s hand finally found its way to your cheek, his touch featherlight as his thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw. When his gaze met yours again, there was a vulnerability in his expression, an unspoken gratitude that made your heart swell.

"Fuck, angel," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "That feels so good."

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth. He tasted salty and musky, a hint of bitterness lingering on your tongue.

Spencer let out a strangled gasp, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You couldn't help but grin, taking more of him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip.

"Shit," he swore, his voice ragged.

You hummed around him, the vibrations causing his hips to buck again.

"God, you're so good," he praised, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging gently.

The words sent a jolt of heat through you, and you moaned, the sound muffled around his cock. You continued working him with your mouth and hand, relishing in the sounds he made, the way his body reacted to your touch.

He was close, you could tell. His breathing was labored, his hips rocking steadily now, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"Baby, I'm—"

Before he could finish the sentence, he came, spilling down your throat, his body shuddering with pleasure.

You swallowed him down, licking him clean as he shuddered through the aftershocks. You pulled away, pressing a soft kiss against his hipbone before looking up, your expression showing a hint of shyness.

"Was that okay?" you asked, your voice soft.

"More than okay," he assured you, his gaze heated. "That was amazing."

You couldn't help the swell of pride that filled your chest, and you rose to your feet, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips. He sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, his body still trembling slightly.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice laced with adoration.

You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading through your entire body.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning into his embrace.

In that moment, you knew that there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

Spencer wasted no time, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses and bites in their wake. His hands wandered up and down your body, mapping every curve and dip, until finally, his fingers reached the hem of your shirt.

"Can I?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

"God, yes," you gasped, arching into his touch.

He grinned, his fingers moving quickly to unbutton your shirt, exposing the thin lace bra underneath. His eyes darkened, his gaze hungry as he took in the sight.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than anything, his voice soft with admiration.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, his words affecting you more than you expected. He leaned forward, his lips ghosting along the top of your breasts, before pressing a trail of kisses along the exposed skin.

"Spence," you whined, squirming beneath his touch. "Please."

He chuckled, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing the lace-covered nipples. You gasped, arching into his touch as the sensation sent sparks of pleasure through you.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," he assured you, his voice low and husky. "We have all the time in the world."

The reminder of how much time you actually had set your mind at ease, and you relaxed into his touch, letting him explore your body at his own pace.

His lips continued their journey down your torso, tracing along the waistband of your panties until finally, he was kneeling between your legs, his fingers hooked into the fabric.

"Lift up," he instructed, his gaze meeting yours.

You obeyed, your hips rising off the desk so he could slide your skirt down, along with your underwear. He tossed them aside, his gaze roaming over you, his expression a mixture of hunger and admiration.

"Such a pretty little pussy," he breathed, his voice rough with desire.

You blushed, the praise causing a warmth to bloom deep in your chest.

"Spence, please," you pleaded, desperate for him to touch you.

He grinned, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh.

"I've got you, sweet girl," he assured you, his words a promise. "Just relax for me."

He moved his lips higher, placing a soft kiss against your folds, before finally, his tongue swiped across your clit, causing you to gasp and buck against him. He gripped your hips, holding you steady as he continued licking and sucking, teasing your clit and working you open.

You couldn't stop the cries that fell from your lips, his touch setting you on fire. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging and guiding him closer, as if you couldn't get enough of him.

He moaned against you, the vibration sending shivers through your entire body. You arched into him, your hips rocking against his mouth, seeking more friction.

"Fuck, Spencer," you gasped, his name a plea on your lips.

He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before plunging his tongue into you, the sensation causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"So good," he murmured, his words muffled by the way his tongue was moving inside you. "So sweet."

You felt the pressure building deep inside you, the tension coiling tighter with each flick of his tongue, every brush of his fingers against your clit.

"Spence, I'm gonna—"

Before you could finish the sentence, the tension snapped, and you came undone, your body shaking with pleasure.

He didn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work you through the orgasm, until finally, you slumped back against the desk, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

Spencer pulled away, pressing a soft kiss against your hip bone, before standing and gazing down at you.

"You're gorgeous when you cum," he murmured, his tone filled with adoration.

You laughed, the sound breathless, and tugged him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What about you?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Do you need—"

Spencer's lips were like fire against your skin, trailing a path of soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped you, the sound eliciting a chuckle from him.

"Is there something you want?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"You," you gasped, your hips bucking against him, desperate for friction.

He grinned, his hands moving to grasp your hips, holding you still. "Patience, baby," he murmured, his voice teasing. "I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

You couldn't help but smile, loving the playful side of him that only came out during these moments.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your tone.

His eyes flashed with amusement, his gaze never leaving yours as his fingers brushed against your core, slipping between your folds.

You moaned, the sound filling the air around you, and Spencer's lips curved into a smug grin.

"God, you're so wet for me," he murmured, his tone filled with satisfaction. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

Spencer’s words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, his deep, measured tone setting every nerve alight. His hands trailed along your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing as he settled himself between your legs.

“I think I have an idea,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to match his playful tone, though the anticipation thrumming through you made it difficult to stay composed.

He chuckled, low and rich, the sound vibrating through you as he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brushed against your skin with agonizing precision, leaving you gasping for more. “You’re so impatient,” he murmured, his words soft but teasing. “I love it.”

“Spencer,” you pleaded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you tried to press closer. “Please.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with intent. “Please, what?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a smugness that only made your cheeks burn hotter.

“You,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you.”

His lips curved into a small, approving smile, and he reached down, unbuckling his belt with a confidence that made your heart race. “Good girl,” he murmured, his praise making your body respond instinctively, your hips shifting toward him in anticipation.

He pressed his forehead against yours as he adjusted himself, his length brushing against your entrance in a way that made you gasp.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his tone soft but edged with something darker, more commanding.

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands sliding to his back, desperate for more of his touch. “Please.”

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With one slow, deliberate motion, he pushed inside, the stretch leaving you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he filled you completely, his movements precise yet measured.

“God,” he groaned, his voice unsteady as he paused, giving you a moment to adjust. “You feel so fucking good.”

You couldn’t form words, your mind overwhelmed by the sensation of him, the way he fit perfectly against you. Instead, you let out a soft moan, your body arching into his as you clung to him.

“You’re so good for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deliberate at first, each one calculated to make you feel every inch of him.

“Spencer,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as you tried to keep up with his pace.

He grinned against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s it,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “Let me hear you.”

His words only heightened the sensations, the tension building in your core with every movement. His hands tightened on your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts as he buried himself deeper with each motion.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with reverence. “So perfect.”

The intensity of his gaze, the rhythm of his body, the sound of his praise—it was all too much, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“Cum for me, sweet girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was both commanding and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

His words were the final push you needed, and you shattered beneath him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Spencer’s movements didn’t falter, his pace steady as he guided you through your release, his own groan of satisfaction filling the air as he followed you over the edge.

When you finally came back down, your body spent and your breathing uneven, Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Body moving back down your body to rest between your legs once more. “I can’t- Spence…” Your hands reach down to grip onto his hair instinctively.

He immediately presses a kiss to your inner thigh, thumbs smoothing over your swollen pussy lips. “Shh, pretty girl. I won’t, I’m just looking. Will you let me, hm?” You whine slightly but nod nonetheless, completely entranced.

Gentle hands squeeze at your flesh and spread you open, folds parting to show the slick, milky trail of cum leaking out from your hole. Leaning down to press one final kiss to your clit, he glides his tongue up through your cunt, collecting it all on his tongue before claiming your lips back in a kiss and forcing his cum inside your own mouth.

You moan into his mouth, his arms now wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “I don’t ever want to forget how you taste.”

You smiled against his chest, your cheeks still flushed as you murmured, “I won’t say no to that.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting, and for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

taglist: @opheliahotchner

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #missarchive

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erinfern0 · 10 months ago

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husband simon "ghost" riley

husband!simon who cried while reading his vows, looking around the venue to see his team cheering for the both of you. They're one of the few people invited from his side of the room, but it was all the family he had and needed.

husband!simon who feels like he waited for this moment his whole life, the moment you finally said yes, giving yourself to him fully. Wearing the fanciest piece of clothing he ever had, saying the most important words he ever did, standing right beside you was a dream come true.

husband!simon who wouldn't drink a lot during your party, just admiring the view of you dancing and being so happy for him, with him. Especially enjoys when Kyle and Johnny stumble upon you and chuckle, pushing you towards the dance floor, having the time of their lives at the wedding of their favorite couple.

husband!simon who would take secret pictures of you, especially if you fall asleep amongst some guests. Head on Price's shoulder, Kyle's lap, or tangled up with Johnny on the couch in the hallway of the venue. He'll definitely torment you with them later, especially since you didn't really have a chance to get back at him as he has a spider-like sense for cameras and quickly avoids them.

husband!simon who's the happiest man alive beside you and would do absolutely anything to make you happy too. Acts of service are his favorite way to show you his love, especially when he's back from deployment for some time. Doing most chores and bringing you hot tea every morning,

husband!simon who spends as much time with you as he can, usually at home where he can just pull you close without caring for others. Grabbing your hips while you wash the dishes or pulling your waist when you try to get out of bed are a must.

husband!simon who just can't resist you, thinking about you all the time. Being far or close doesn't matter, you're on his mind 24/7. You can sleep beside him or be a thousand kilometers away, he's still thinking about you. If he can't see your face in the morning, he'd just imagine it with a smile on his face.

husband!simon who attends therapy regularly so he can be a better version of himself for the both of you. Especially if you're planning to make your little family a bigger one.

husband!simon who suffers from sleepless nights whenever you argue. He can't just fall asleep when you've just argued, so in most cases, he occupies his mind by cleaning the entire house or filling in some missing reports.

husband!simon who gets his stuff after the argument and gets ready to sleep on the couch, only to smirk when you enter the living room and make him come back to bed. You can't sleep without him as much as he can't without you. Yeah, you may not talk, but his arm will find its' way around your waist as you fall asleep.

husband!simon's favorite way to make up after an argument is waking you up with his arms around your frame and soothing apologies spilling from his lips. He loves the way you immediately pull him closer and comply, adding your own apologies to the mix.

husband!simon who is too old to care about morning breath, if you don't mind, he'll put a thousand kisses all over your face at any time of the day, especially to wake you up.

husband!simon who brags about you to his mates and won't shut up even if they complain. That's the price they pay after begging him to get to know more about his secret little love before.

husband!simon doesn't care about the money, because let's face it —he's got tons of it and will gladly spend it on you. Buys you secret gifts that he hides around the house before deployment, so you don't miss him too much.

husband!simon leaves the room whenever you call him. Your conversations are sacred, no matter how much his team wants to say hello, it's your time. They can call you themselves if they are so interested.

husband!simon who becomes a handyman as soon as you ask for anything. Your shelf is not leveled properly, and the sink is broken? Don't worry, love, he'll take care of it.

husband!simon who watches lots of documentaries with you in your free time. Also, secretly enjoys cooking shows and even more secretly — makeover TV shows. Especially the ones where they turn alternative-looking people into some normies, and loves to complain that they rip them off all their personalities.

husband!simon will get a matching tattoo with you. Probably already has some that remind him of you.

husband!simon who becomes very conversational, something you wouldn't expect the day you two meet. If you finally let him open up, he's yapping all the time with you, just rambles about all the little things that are on his mind.

husband!simon who very much enjoys those conversations while you two have sex, makes it even more sweet and domestic in his mind. Most of the time, you two talk about plans for the day or random chores that you need to finish while he pounds into you, making you both giggle and out of breath.

husband!simon definitely changes his tone around you. When Johnny heard that for the first time, his jaw dropped at the soft way he talked to you.

husband!simon who does everything in his power to protect you. The address he doesn't share with anyone, burner phones to contact you while being deployed, highest quality security. Most of the time uses nicknames instead of your name when in public, and probably one or two guard dogs that are y'alls most-loved pets (he pretends not to see how you spoil them while he's gone).

husband!simon who takes you on nice vacations whenever he can to make up for the time you two lost while he was deployed.

husband!simon who cannot see his future without you, you're stuck with him for eternity.

masterlist | request info

#riri writes #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #gender neutral reader #cod #cod mwiii #simon ghost riley cod #ghost cod #headcanons #hcs

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fawnindawn · 10 months ago

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the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)

Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff

masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."

"I told you, I know nothing, and even if I did- patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.

Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.

Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.

Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.

It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had snuck into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence.

Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.

"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."

Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they end up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from its bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.

Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?

You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.

The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.

"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.

He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.

"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."

With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.

"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.

You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.

You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.

"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.

After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."

You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.

You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.

"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"

You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.

Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"

He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.

You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.

His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.

"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."

Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.

Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.

You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"

He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."

He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."

You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"

You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.

"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."

"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"

"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.

"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."

"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."

"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."

"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."

Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.

"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."

Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.

"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar on my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.

You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."

"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."

He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.

You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.

"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."

"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."

Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?

Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.

"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.

"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”

He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.

"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."

He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."

You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."

He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"

"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."

"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."

"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"

"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.

"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."

"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."

You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"

He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What are you smiling about?"

You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.

"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."

"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."

He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."

You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.

"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."

He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."

You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.

a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.

taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x apollo!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x y/n

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itsswritten · 10 months ago

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Threads of Hazel

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Angst, blood, gore, injuries, hints of death.

Summary: A mating bond can connect those who have not even met, but can it save them too?

All that welcomed you was the cold, splodges of darkness filtering in your distorted vision.

Time seemed to stretch and contract in the void, a dizzying whirl of uncertainty. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Perhaps even longer.

No one was coming.

Why had you dared to hope?

It was that gentle hazel glow that danced behind closed eyelids that had stirred within you. A glimmer of something that felt worthy of holding onto. Something to believe in.

But it must have been a trick of the mind, a cruel illusion born from the depths of insanity.

No one was coming. No one ever would.

Maybe it was time to give up.

Time to surrender to the abyss, to let go of the tenuous thread that bound you to consciousness. As you teetered on the edge of oblivion, a fleeting sensation brushed against your senses, a whisper of familiarity.

You could smell it, faint and distant yet unmistakable.

Night-chilled mist and cedar.

It was that scent again. But like a wisp of smoke on the wind, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving your senses grasping at shadows in the void.

Another wicked false sense of hope. Your mind must be creating delusions as it comes close to its end.

No one was coming.

It was time to let go.

***

This was the last location. And then they’d go home.

Finally.

Azriel straightened his posture, rolling back his shoulders with a weary sigh. His wings unfurled and then tucked in against his back. He felt anchored, weighed down, by the silent burdens he was carrying. Even his shadows were slumped against him, as if they were also affected by his fatigue.

Azriel was utterly exhausted.

Despite Cassian's concerned pleas for him to stay behind and rest, Azriel couldn't bring himself to heed them. The ache in his bones and the weight of exhaustion pulling at his limbs were nothing compared to the thought of letting Feyre and his brother face this mission alone.

He was Spymaster of the Night Court, he would fulfil his duties regardless of his own welfare. Regardless of the demons that weighed on him.

But these demons of his, had been plaguing him for months. Clear in the dark offset look of his gaze, and the purple shadows that sat beneath his eyes– he was a tormented soul.

The aftermath of the war had etched its scars deep into Azriel. It was a sensation he was all too familiar with, the fallout of anguish and slaughter, had always defined his life. But in recent months, his demons seemed to be haunting him more fiercely than usual, their whispers echoing in the silence of the night.

For months, Azriel had been plagued by a recurring dream, a nightmare he assumed. Because as much as he tried he couldn’t recall the details. Each time he would wake from the depths of his sleep, finding himself drenched in a clammy sheen of sweat, his chest heaving attempting to draw in air as though a claw was clenched around his lungs.

But that is all that would linger.

A feeling, no memory of what had caused this reaction within him. No clue as to why his body shivered in fear when he woke.

It was a maddening cycle, the dream hovering just beyond the edges of his consciousness. Clearly haunting in nature and yet elusive. Each day felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, the memory of something crucial lurking just beyond reach.

So close, and yet not close enough. And it was driving him mad.

In a desperate attempt to break free from that grip, he tried avoiding sleep altogether. Yet, that feeling persisted. A restless energy coursing beneath his skin. It was relentless, a constant reminder– that he was forgetting something of importance.

And that feeling terrified him. Azriel had always known most, metalicus with his gathering of intel and information. Skilled in deciphering most people and their thoughts. But his own mind had him at a loss. He was no Spymaster of his own consciousness, simply a male who couldn’t sleep because of a nightmare.

Feyre, Cassian and Azriel had embarked on the final leg of their scouting mission. Despite the passing of time since the war's end, new pockets of Hybern loyalists still cropped up. The three of them were tasked with weeding out any lingering enemies. They had arrived at the last location Azriel’s intel had unearthed. A manor house on the skirts of the borders, had whispered rumours to be a base for some Hybern stragglers.

Derelict and crumbling, the building seemed to sag under the weight of its own deterioration, its once-majestic features now reduced to a skeletal framework of crumbling stone and splintered wood. The scars of fire marred its surface, meaning any valuable pieces of information that might have once resided within its walls had long since been burnt. Nothing but charred remnants and ash laid in their wake.

They had been too late, but they still had to check nonetheless.

"All clear from up above," Cassian announced, his voice cutting through the silence as he landed beside Feyre, who had just reentered what remained of the foyer. She had meticulously scouted the left wing of the building, while Azriel had taken the right.

"Clear here too," Feyre confirmed with a nod, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any signs of danger.

Azriel soon joined them. His part of the search had also yielded no immediate threats. Cassian stood beside his brother, kicking some burnt debris with his foot while mumbling that it was a shame Hybern’s men had burnt this place. That it was such a waste. But Azriel wasn’t listening.

Running his rough hand down his face, he let out a heavy sigh. A very clear tell that he was not okay. Something Azriel never showed. But he could feel it again, under his skin. Pinching at him. Something faint in this chest, weighed and sliced, only to subside to a dull ache.

He felt uneasy, as he had for months but there was something about this place that had shaken a deepness within his gut. Even his shadows fluttered nervously around him.

Maybe he would need to see Madja when he got home. Or maybe even relinquish his pride, and ask Rhys for help.

“Let’s get this checked over quickly, and then head home. It’s been a long mission,” Feyre spoke softly, offering both males encouraging smiles as she gestured towards the back of the building.

Feyre’s eyes settled on Azriel, giving him a reassuring look. For a moment Azriel almost let her in, he had noticed the concerned looks and touches his family had given him. Growing more and more these recent weeks. Instead though, he nodded softly following the pair into the back room.

They descended down grand stairs, into the lower levels of the house. Each step he took echoed through the empty remnants of the building, every move feeling heavier and weightier. They were hit with a chill when they reached the bottom. In the absence of natural light, Feyre conjured small orbs of illumination, casting soft, flickering light that bobbed across the dark space. The feeble glow revealed crumbling walls and decaying remnants of furniture, similar to what they had seen upstairs.

The air was heavy with the scent of decay and mildew, but there was something metallic that lingered.

Blood.

They could smell blood. And there was something else too. Perfumy and chemical.

Faebane.

Tensions rose as they all hesitated on their weapons, Azriel’s fingers gingerly hovering over Truth Teller as they stepped deeper within the space. Azriel's shadows flickered and swirled around him, their movements erratic and unsettling. They sensed something lurking in the darkness, something that sent a shiver down his spine.

There was this haunting apprehension washing over Azriel as if he had been here before. He couldn’t quite place it, couldn’t quite pinpoint why he didn’t feel like a stranger in this room.

As though he had been here many times before and yet this was still his first time here. That gnawing began deep in his gut again as his fingers gripped at his dagger.

He heard Feyre gasp loudly, before his eyes quickly scanned to see what her light had revealed.

A figure, barely recognisable in the dim light, hung limply from chains fastened to the wall, body gaunt and ravaged by torture. Steel rods protruded from flesh, each one coated in the deadly poison of faebane, its sickly scent permeating the air.

Feyre's hands flew to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide with disbelief and revulsion. "Is she..." her voice trailed off, unable to voice the question that hung in her mind. She had to stop herself from gagging, as the contents of her stomach threatened to spill up her throat.

Even Cassian, veteran of countless battles and witness to nearly every injury imaginable, could not conceal the grimace that tugged at his lips. They all took a moment to absorb the sight before them, Azriel remaining motionless as he processed the scene. The sensation from earlier still persisted, but now intensifying as Azriel's gaze fell upon the steel rod protruding from the body's chest, a sharp pang jolting through his own.

Azriel staggered, overcome by a sudden wave of agony that seized him, breaths ragged and uneven. Feyre moved swiftly to his side, her hand offering comfort as she implored about his well-being, but his attention was elsewhere.

He wasn’t listening to Feyre, he was listening to his shadows.

Alive.

They were pulsating beside him, waiting for his orders, waiting to be released, begging to be released.

Azriel clutched his chest, mustering his strength to stand straighter, the pain subsiding for now as he took a hesitant step closer,

Alive, alive, alive.

They whispered frantically this time, their urgency desperate.

Then Azriel saw it. The faint rise and fall of your chest, the subtle rhythm of your heartbeat still persisting against all odds.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat, his mind struggling to process the sight before him.

How? How were you still alive?

He wasn't the only one to notice. Cassian, wasted no time in springing into action, his voice commanding as he instructed them to release you from your chains, to get you the urgent help you needed. Both Feyre and Cassian, mentally calling to Rhys to be ready with Madja.

But Azriel was frozen in place, his senses honed in on the fragile thread of life that still clung to you. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched, his chest constricting with an overwhelming emotion.

He remembered.

The sight before him wasn’t new. No, he had seen this. Seen you before. Felt this way every night for months.

It was you whom he had been forgetting when he woke, the haunting echo of your desperate pleas vibrating in his mind. As he watched your body slump to the floor, freed from the chains that had bound you, Azriel struggled to push back the flood of visions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Visions of you, screaming, pleading for someone to help you.

Begging him to come save you.

How could he have forgotten? Your cries had pierced through the darkness, reaching out to him night after night.

A plea for salvation had rippled down the thread that seemed to connect you.

That thread.

That power that had subconsciously been connecting you both for months began to hum. Louder and brighter than anything Azriel had ever felt before.

It was a realisation, a confirmation to what he had been feeling for all that time. The golden warmth finally settled under his bones, consuming all his senses.

The mating bond.

You were his mate.

Something that was supposed to be so cherished, felt incredibly bittersweet as he watched your near dead form be pulled into Cassian’s arms.

He could feel your pain seeping through the bond, in fact that is what he had been feeling all those weeks. Your suffering leaking its way down to Azriel. Your pleas reaching him in the depths of his sleep.

He had a mate, finally.

And yet when he pulled gently on that faint thread that linked you to him, he could feel it fading.

Maybe he was too late.

***

A bright white light filled your vision, its touch lining your body slowly.

It was time. You were ready.

But just as you were on the brink of surrender, a golden warmth surged forth, wrapping around you like a protective shield. It tugged at you, pulling you back, refusing to let you go.

Not now, not yet. It spoke.

You resisted, clinging stubbornly to the edge of oblivion, but the pull of that hazel glow was undeniable.

Let me go. It hurts. I want to leave. Your soul cried towards the glow.

The hazel glow called out to you with a familiarity that stirred something deep within your soul.

I won’t let you go. Not now, not now that I have you.

You couldn’t understand. You heard no voice, yet you felt every word.

I need you to fight, for yourself, for me, fight harder than you ever have done and I promise, after this, you will never have to fight again.

Why those words had some sway over you, you weren’t sure. But when your senses filled with that comforting scent you had smelt every night for the past months. It tethered you, anchoring you in the physical realm once more.

You could smell it again, night-chilled air and cedar.

You would hold onto it one last time.

***

Agonising screams filled the air as you writhed in pain on the makeshift table. Your body contorting, fingers clawing desperately at the gaping wound in your chest. Even in the dim light, Azriel could see the blood, thick and crimson oozing through your fingers as you had lurched up when Cassian had pulled the poison coated rod from your chest.

They had managed to remove some while you were unconscious, but the pain of this one, deep in your chest, had yanked you awake. How you were still alive none of them understood. Your injuries and body filled with enough faebane to kill a dozen fae.

Your vision was still distorted. Just one of the injuries that ravaged your body. Only blurry shapes and figures filled your sight, and the lack of that sense only added to your fear. You couldn’t see who you were with, and although they didn’t sound like your captors, you didn’t know them. Didn’t trust them, and they were hurting you.

Even if they repeatedly told you they were helping you, their touch just brought more pain.

Madja flitted around Cassian, her hands hovering over the faebane-drenched wounds in a futile attempt to heal. Azriel stood at the head of the table, crouched down close as he firmly held one of your arms down. His shadows fidgeted uneasily around him, reflecting his inner turmoil. He had witnessed countless horrors in his life, some inflicted upon himself, but seeing his mate in such agony was a new level of torment.

Feeling the pain trickling down the bond was tearing him apart.

“Stop, stop. Please…” Your plea was raw, your voice strained and hoarse from the agony that wracked your body. Azriel shuddered at your tone, your voice an echo of the nightmares that had haunted him for endless nights.

He remembered it all now.

Each night, stumbling through darkness, trying to follow that golden bond to you. To your calls for him. And each time, he tried to figure out where you were, how to get to you, how to save you only to forget everything when he woke. His memory of you slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Rhys, there must be something you can do,” he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation as he looked over your pained expression.

Feyre had diligently wiped the blood from your face, revealing slashes across your eyes. Remarkably, Madja seemed optimistic about their healing potential, though it was contingent upon your survival. He could feel your fear rippling down the bond, how frightened and in pain you were.

“Azriel…my power, I can’t penetrate her mind. The faebane has saturated her body, creating an impenetrable barrier,” Rhys responded. “I’m sorry brother…I’m truly sorry.”

Azriel couldn’t contain the small whispered sob that escaped him, his hand flying to his mouth to stifle the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

When Cassian had carried you from that dark basement, Azriel had acted on instinct, snatching you carefully from his brother's arms and holding you close. He whispered into your ear, a litany of apologies for not finding you sooner, for the pain you endured. He begged you to fight, to hold on for him. And had clung to that faint glimmer of hope as he returned to the safety of the River House.

Rhys had prepared a table for Madja to work on, but neither of them had anticipated the extent of your injuries.

Azriel had laid you on the table, still unconscious as he nervously watched Rhys and Madja try their best. Cassian and Feyre joining them moments later to help.

It was then they had all realised.

He was fussing over you, whispering frantically and his shadows had been skittishly tracing over your body and injuries. So unlike the usual calm and collected Spymaster.

Rhys had pieced it together first. Simply stating She’s your mate into Azriel’s mind. Although it was clear by the heartbreaking expressions on his family's faces, they were all aware of the significance you held.

Azriel felt helpless, he couldn’t lessen your anguish, couldn’t heal you, couldn’t do anything.

Your sobbing started again, while you writhed under their strong hands. Pleading for release. Instead, they responded with reassurances and hushed whispers, and there was one voice in particular that washed over you in a familiarity you didn’t understand.

You fought against them, resisting their attempts to restrain you, but they were stronger. Another wave of agony rippled through you as they worked to remove one of the steel bars embedded within your flesh.

“Focus, Shadowsinger,” Madja's voice cut through the turmoil, her gaze landing on him firmly.

“The best course of action is to remove these rods and then attempt to drain the faebane from her system. Her resilience is remarkable, but she won’t survive much longer without intervention.” Madja was speaking directly to Azriel now, he took a second to look down at you crying on the table. Cassian and Rhys holding you down, while they calculated removing the next impalement.

Madja continued, “If you want to help her, comfort her, support her.” The instructions were clear.

Feyre spoke then, glancing between your pained form and then to Azriel. “Use the bond Az, she needs you.”

With hesitation, Azriel’s rough hand found yours. Holding it tightly. Grooves and lines were etched into his weathered skin, speaking of his own past battles. Instinctively you wanted to recoil from the stranger's touch, but as you felt another pull on your torso you clutched down on his hand tightly. Another sob racking through you.

You felt him close to you now, his presence enveloping you as his warm breath brushed across your face. He was close to you. But you couldn’t make out who he was. Only a blurred version of a male with tan skin and dark hair. His other hand grazed your cheek, offering you a comfort you hadn’t felt in months.

“I need you to fight just a little longer,” the voice was deep and warm, there was something about it or maybe it was the words he had chosen that felt familiar.

“It hurts..” you whispered, another sob leaving your lips.

"I know, I know it does...but not much longer, okay? And then you can rest, I promise," he reassured you, igniting a flicker of hope within you despite the overwhelming pain.

Then Azriel pulled gently on the bond sending ripples of reassurance and comfort down the link. So much that he hoped to drown any pain out you were feeling.

You felt that golden warmth fill your chest, that same feeling that had pulled you from the white abyss many times before.

"It's you..." Your voice choked with emotion, the realisation dawning upon you.

Azriel stood there, uncertain of how to respond, but he watched as you turned toward him, your brows furrowed in concentration. Though your vision remained distorted, blurred colours danced before you, and amidst the haze of black and deep tan, you saw it—the faint glimmer of hazel.

"You came for me..."

"Always..." Azriel's voice cracked with emotion, his unwavering commitment laid bare.

With the last of the rods removed, your body bled profusely. Madja urged caution, while Feyre urgently advocated to cauterise the wounds. But with this amount of faebane, they grappled with the best course of action. Their voices melding in a flurry of noise.

A soft, sad smile graced your lips, your hand reaching out to touch the figure before you, feeling the contours of his cheek beneath your fingertips.

Blood began to fill your mouth, the red liquid seeping through your smile. The bitter taste staining your words. Azriel began to shake his head, clinging to that fading bond with all his strength. With a pained slowness, he felt your hand slip from his cheek, leaving a blood-stained print upon his skin.

"You were real..." Your voice was barely a whisper now, breaths shallow. "My thread of hazel."

a/n: ngl I don't love this lol, doesn't feel like my best work but sometimes it's better posted than perfect! I had originally planned for this to be longer, but writers slump has me in a chokehold so this is all I managed! Anywho, hope you enjoyed the angst! <3 - Lottie Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel series #azriel fic rec

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thebestsetter · 3 months ago

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Michael Kaiser HATES parties.

He usually avoids them. He doesn't go to the parties his team hosts after they win an important game nor to the press parties. He feels like throwing up at the very mention of the word.

He hates everything in it. He hates the smell of alcohol that linges in the air, hates the lights that seem almost blinding, hates how sweaty the air feels.

But what he absolutely LOATHES are the people who frequent parties. He despises them.

He doesn't get what's wrong with them, honestly. They get drunk and all that crap, claim they're "having fun" when they can't even walk a straight line without tumbling. Kaiser hates alcohol. He hates people who idealize it, treating it as a savior when it ruined his life since he was only a kid with no name or fortune who got beaten daily by a drunk father. Therefore, he hates places where alcohol is treated as something good. He hates parties.

They're stupid. They're stupid, and yet people still go. It makes him feel like rolling his eyes and cussing them out at how dumb and blind they are.

But what makes him really hate the "party animals" is their twisted concept of love.

Love is not, by any means, an ideal that's easy to grasp. He, himself, didn't now what it was until 3 months ago. But he knows their idea of love couldn't be further from the truth.

They go around on parties, kissing strangers and dancing with shadows trying to fill the void that is where their heart should be. They lay down with people and kiss faceless silhouettes and claim that it's in the name of "love". He couldn't feel more repulsed by them. Because he knows that is NOT love.

He knows that because he, once, thought love came like that, too. He thought love meant just kissing and holding hands, finding someone pretty and settling down with them. He thought marriage was just a title, and love just a meaningless concept mothers tell their children before they go to bed.

His mind only changed when he met the embodiment of love itself: you.

You introduced him to what love really feels like. Love is not a myth. It'a not a legend. It's a reality. And he feels it every day, every hour and every second he spends with you.

He always thought he was unworthy of loving and being loved, but you showed him he can have this feeling in his life. That love is not something you deserve: it's something you just recieve. You don't need anything back: you just need him. And he's not complaining, even though he'll never understand.

Now, he knows love is really blind. Not saying you're ugly, God no. You're the prettiest person he's ever met. But he knows love is blind because he doesn't need to see you to love you.

All these people in parties need to see the person to fall for them. Their love is conditional, it's based on the ambient around them.

The music, the lights, the alcohol. It all makes people idealize what they see. They're influenced by the clothes, by the atmosphere. That's not love. That's reverie. Illusion. A trick their drunk brains pull.

When the party is over, their "love" dies. When they see the other without a skilled makeup or beautiful clothes, they stop loving the person they met. That is not love.

Love comes in the form of you.

Love is there when you go to his games. Love is there when you hold him close to your chest, caressing his hair after yet another episode of remembering his harsh childhood. Love is present when you wake up right beside one another, both laughing at each other's ridiculous bed hair. Love is there when you kiss the side of his eye, right at his tattooed eyeshadow. Or when you trace his arm tattoo.

Love is there whenever you are.

Because you are love for him. And when he sees you in your pajamas, almost sleeping and yet staying awake just to see him come back home after training and greet him, he knows for sure.

He doesn't need parties. He doesn't need lights, or alcohol.

His love for you is sober. It's unconditional. Endless.

And when you hug him, and he hears your sweet voice saying "Welcome home, my love. I missed you", he swears he feels like crying.

He never thought he'd be lucky enough, but he did it.

He found true love.

He found you. And he couldn't ask for anything more.

You are love, after all. What else could he possibly want?

~ Based on the poem "Se se morre de amor" by Gonçalves Dias!!!

Masterlist

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk manga #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #bllk kaiser #kaiser x reader #kaiser #kaiser blue lock #kaiser bllk #michael kaiser #blue lock kaiser #kaiser fluff #kaiser michael #kaiser x you #kaiser x y/n

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martian-astro10 · 4 months ago

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Debilitated planets in astrology

Sun in Libra ⚖️

Sun in Libra is debilitated because sun's aggressive and assertive nature does not go well with Libra's love for harmony and balance. The most common thing that comes with a debilitated sun is the lack of confidence. I know many people with this placement who are actually really good leaders but because they are not confident in their own abilities, they tend to hold themselves back. No matter how much other people praise them, they'll always think that they're not good enough. Can also be people pleasers, I personally think that you guys should not be in a relationship unless you strengthen your sun. They are much more likely than others to be victims of peer pressure. There can be some problems with heart, bones, or stomach, or it's like, your stomach is the first thing that hurts when you get sick, migraines and fevers are also common. To strengthen your sun, you should do the following things, (do the things that you can, you don't have to do every single one, I'm listing down all the ones that I know) :

Perform Surya namaskar or just do yoga in the morning.

Use a copper glass to drink water.

Offer water to sun every morning (when it rises) from a copper vessel.

Look at the sunrise with your eyes, if you wear glasses, remove the glasses and then look at it. JUST as the sun is rising, don't wake up at 11 am, and then look at the sun.

You shouldn't eat a lot of meat, I'm not telling you to become a vegetarian, but do lessen the consumption of meat and try to eat more fruits and vegetables instead.

Wear red colored clothes more often, and also donate red colored clothes to orphanages, it can be helpful.

If you're a Hindu and you LIKE being a Hindu, then chant this, "om suryaya namaha" 3 times in the morning before leaving your house or if you're offering water to sun then do it that time only.

Moon in Scorpio 🦂

Moon is debilitated in Scorpio. People with a debilitated moon are highly prone to stress, much more than others, they also very easily get Black circles under their eyes, it's like, even if they sleep a little less for a day, you'll see it on their faces, their hair starts turning grey very early on in life. They can have sinus problems and be prone to allergies. Also, I read this somewhere, but it's turned out to be true for every person that I know has a weak moon, their sweat smells very very bad, I'm sorry 😭. They can also be scared of water, not like bathing and regular stuff but swimming and doing water sports. HUGE mood swings, one moment they're shouting at you and the next they're asking for a hug and talking sweetly. Highly sensitive to criticism, will get offended at the smallest things, this results in them being very defensive over their interests and lifestyle. Their intuition is weak and they can struggle to figure out the true intentions of people, can get very easily manipulated. Lactose intolerance is something that I've noticed in a lot of people with a weak moon. Can have problems with mental health, like anxiety and adhd, weak chest, breast, ovaries, uterus, problems with menstrual cycle, irregular periods, fertility issues. cold and cough are very common. To strengthen your moon, you should do the following things :

Avoid spending time alone.

Practice meditation every day to calm down the mind.

Offer milk to shivaling if you can.

Avoid having birds as pets.

Eat coconut and wear white clothes, or even wearing a white scarf with usual clothes is fine.

You should also use sandalwood oil to improve sleep or use it while meditating as well.

Chant "Om Shram Shreem Shroum Sah Chandramase Namah" 3 times everyday, do it while meditating.

Mercury in Pisces 🐟

Mercury is debilitated in Pisces. Communication problems are a given with this placement. People can misunderstand their words quite often, it's like, even when they're trying to compliment someone, it sort of ends up sounding like an insult, when that wasn't their interntion in the first place. They can be the "invisible" friend in the group, it's like even if they go away nobody will notice or be affected by their absence. The friend who always has to walk behind when there's no space left, the one that is left behind when they stop to tie their laces, the one that tries to be social and funny but ends up failing miserably. They feel alone even if they're surrounded by people. This is especially true when they're young, but they look at all these people around them, having fun, dating, partying, and then they're just THERE, just existing, that feeling is common. Overthinking, nobody can beat them to it, sitting in class, having a doubt but not bringing it up cuz you're afraid of being perceived as stupid. They're also very sensitive to criticism. They do have a really strong intuition though, can see right through people, good judge of characters. Frequently engage in maladaptive daydreaming, will act like a princess whose knight is in love with her, but she is forced to marry a prince from another kingdom, frequently cook up stories like this in their heads (totally not speaking from personal experience). They daydream to avoid reality, but like who doesn't. There can be problems related to throat, nervous system, ulcers, fractures, UTI's, iron and haemoglobin issues as well. To strengthen your Mercury, you should do the following things :

Wash new clothes before wearing them.

Chanting mantras related to lord budhha.

Eat green vegetables and fruits

Keep good oral hygiene, clean your teeth and tongue THOROUGHLY (everyone should do this btw, cuz...basic hygiene)

Chant "Om gan ganpataye namah" 3 times in the morning before leaving your house

Venus in Virgo 🦊

Venus is debilitated in Virgo. These people can be very critical of their partners, will always try to find faults with them. Can be overly concerned with outer appearances. They struggle a lot with self love, Cassie from euphoria is a pretty accurate representation of someone with a debilitated Venus. They have low self esteem and as a result, can get together with people who try to pull them down and the worst part is that they tend to believe them. They have a bad fashion sense, they're more likely to follow trends, not realising that those clothes are not the best for THEIR body type. Dependency issues in relationship is very common. They are creative, but don't know how to express it, most of the times, they're not even aware of this creativity. They can also be more prone than others to get addicted to alcohol or drugs, so I would advise you to stay away from them. If you haven't consumed it yet, then it's better to not even try. Can have problems related to kidneys, skin, eyes, sexual hormones (PCOS is common in women with this placement), hormonal disorders. To strengthen your Venus, you should do the following things :

You should avoid taking anything for free, for ex, you know how in some stores they offer things to taste, like snacks and all, don't try them.

You should use cow ghee to cook food.

Wear silver jewellery and use nice perfumes.

Pour white flowers in water, preferably a big body of water.

Never repeat your clothes without washing them first. Don't wear unwashed clothes.

Chant "Om shum shukraya Namah"

Mars in Cancer 🦀

Mars is debilitated in Cancer. These people are always a little lethargic, the type to wake up tired no matter how much sleep they get (yk that meme, that goes "when you wake up and can't wait to go back to sleep". They don't like to eat healthy food, can be obsessed with eating junk all the time. I know people with this placement who are ADDICTED to cheese, won't eat anything without it. Can get bruised very easily and most of the time they aren't even aware of how they got it. Get frequent body pains because of weak muscles. Don't know how to express their sexuality in a healthy manner. They have Weak concentration skills and low attention span. There can be property related disputes in the family, you'll probably not inherit anything (good) from your family. They use displacement as their defence mechanism, anger is always directed at the wrong person because they're too weak to hurt the people who've hurt them. They can be very passive aggressive. There can be problems related to bones, muscles, blood, genitals, rectum, hands and prostate gland. To strengthen your mars, you should do the following things :

You should donate blood.

Carry red things with you, it shouldn't be too big, small enough to fit in your pocket.

Eat red fruits and vegetables, like, pomegranates, beetroot, apple, cherry, red pepper, etc.

Chanting or reading Hanuman chalisa can help a LOT ( I would give an example but the whole situation was very detailed)

Use copper utensils to eat food and drink water in a copper glass.

Jupiter in Capricorn 🐐

Jupiter is debilitated in Capricorn. For some weird reason, they always get teachers who have a problem with them. Their teachers always pin point their faults and try to humiliate them. But when they grow old, like 25+ they finally manage to find someone who does their best to guide them, this teacher will have a huge impact on their life. They are likely to become more spiritual and less religious as they grow up. I know a lot of people with this, and they all ended up becoming the head of their household, it doesn't matter if they're a man or a woman, married or divorced, they are gonna be the ones to manage their family. There will be a lot of difficulties in terms of career, you might have to work twice as hard as others to get the same benefits. There can be financial difficulties as well, it usually happens because most of the time, these people are the breadwinners, so whatever they earn, gets used for their family instead. So it FEELS like they earn less even if they earn a lot. This is a very bad placement for women, since the probability of getting a bad husband increases. The women with this get ghosted a lot. You can be more prone than others to health problems like, diabetes, obesity, insomnia, gall bladder stones, ear and gastric troubles. To strengthen your Jupiter, you should do the following things :

Apply a blend of turmeric powder and sandalwood on your forehead, a short line with your thumb (dip your thumb in the mixture and then put your thumb between your eyebrows and draw a ⬆️ line)

Offer bananas to people.

Avoid consuming meat and alcohol.

Wear yellow clothes (avoid wearing dark Colors) or keep something yellow with you permanently.

Practice meditation.

Wear gold, it can be a small chain or a ring as well.

Chant "Om brim brihaspataye namah"

Saturn in Aries 🐏

Saturn is debilitated in Aries. These people are very irresponsible and make fake promises. They'll do everything except what they're actually supposed to do. Have a tendency to blame others for their failures, I know quite a few people with this and.....🙄. These people are not good leaders but they think they are, this leads to them taking leadership roles through force. They look scary and they ARE scary, nobody can stand up to them. They're unable to manage resources effectively and this can lead to severe financial difficulties. They also end up making a lot of enemies, so even if they become successful, it won't be for long. There can be problems related to, legs, knees and joints. To strengthen your Saturn, you should do the following things :

Brush your teeth with a neem toothpaste.

Honestly, be a vegetarian, this is the only planet for which I would recommend you guys to NOT consume meat and alcohol. I know 100's of people who were literally dying during their Saturn mahadasha and then became perfectly fine once they stopped eating meat and drinking alcohol.

Be a decent human being, that is literally all that Saturn asks of you 😭

Drink cow milk ONLY, if that's not available then don't drink milk.

Always keep a little ball of silver with you.

Wear dark green clothes.

(there are many factors that can cancel the debilitation of a planet, and these remedies help too, so don't worry too much if you have planets in debilitation)

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

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