#I have to answer by not ever making an attempt to narrow down really | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heart-eyed-love · 2 months ago

Text

Love is Embarrassing

Summary | You and Eddie embarrass yourselves in front of each other a lot, but that’s okay, it only seems to make your relationship stronger

Contains | Fem!Reader, Established Relationship, Embarrassing Moments, Cursing

Word Count | 1.8k

Currently, You, Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant, all stand outside the fence surrounding one of the abandoned houses in Hawkins. It’s not a very tall one, but it did slightly ease you, putting distance between you and the sketchy house.

“Do you guys really think this is a smart idea?” Jeff asks, looking over to you and the boys.

“No, actually. I think this is really fucking stupid.” You answer in return, agreeing with Jeff on the fact that this wasn’t the one of the smartest ideas your boyfriend has had. You’re not entirely sure what good could come from this.

“It’ll be fine… It’ll be fun.” Eddie reassured you, lightly putting his hand on your shoulder and giving it an affectionate rub. You only side eye him.

Grant is already making his way closer to the fence when he asks, “Who’s going first?” And when no one answers you narrow your eyes at your boyfriend.

“Wasn’t this your idea?” You ask

He rolls his eyes, “Fine, whatever…” He approaches the fence. And in an attempt to impress, he begins climbing over the fence with ease. Trying to be all slick and suave about it, he’s about to jump off the fence, and be successfully on the other side. But once he does, his jeans catch on the fence… and they rip.

And you cringe once he’s back on the ground, having unfortunately ripped his go-to jeans. His face falls immediately when he notices, but the boys behind you are giggling.

“Dude…” Is all Jeff mutters out between giggles, but Gareth has always been one to make it worse.

“Are those Bats?!” He’s now cackling at his boxers, and even though Eddie's glare would usually make him shut up, the fence between them has made him brave.

“Shut up.” he doesn’t dare look at you yet, cheeks aflame. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, so you’re not sure why he’s so flustered.

“Maybe it’s a sign.” You shrug your shoulders, looking over to your boyfriend, who’s now currently trying to get a better view of his ass, trying to make the rip less noticeable.

Without looking up at you he says, “We’re going in.” You roll your eyes and make sure way over to the fence. Climbing up carefully as to not be in the same predicament as Eddie. He holds his hands out for you, helping you get down safely.

“Let me see…” You say, now that you can get a better look, hand on his back to turn him so you can see. The other boys begin climbing over the fence as Eddie lets you examine the rip in his pants.

“Is it fixable?” He asks softly.

“Oh, Yeah. We’ll have these fixed right up…” You pat his shoulder, “But for now…” You place your hand on his ass right over the rip with a smirk, “This will have to do…”

Last night was the first night sleeping over at your boyfriend's house. It was a domestic night of bliss, dinner was eaten at the table together, skin care was done, and you both brushed your teeth as you looked at each other through the mirror with a smile.

It was perfect, and the night was concluded by snuggling into his side, head resting on his chest as you both passed out, faster than you ever had. It felt right.

But the next morning was a different story.

You were woken by a soft shake to your shoulder, with eyes scrunched almost closed, you lifted your head from Eddie's chest and felt a stickiness on your cheek. Cracking your eyes a bit more open you’re able to see a wet patch on his shirt. You now know what the stickiness was as you violently tried to wipe the embarrassment off your cheek, then the same to the patch of drool on his chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry…” You grumble, and Edide can’t help but smile at the pleasant sound of your morning voice.

“No, don’t worry about it, I just was wondering if you were hungry? I thought I could go get some breakfast…?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice…” You say softly, cheeks a little flushed.

“K, let’s go get dressed and brush our teeth and get rid of that morning breath.” He says with a smile, and your eyes go wide and to your mouth in an instant.

“Oh my god.” You whine out turning away from him, and he chuckles, following right behind. Pushing himself up against your back.

“Hey! Don’t be embarrassed, at least it’s not as bad as mine…” He says, lifting himself onto his elbow to get a better advantage on you as he begins blowing his breath into your face. You can’t help but giggle as you squirm away, cause yeah, at least it’s not as bad as that.

“Eddie, stop!” You now move your hand to cover your nose, a smile evident on your face now.

“Let’s go brush our rats' nests out and our morning breath away together, Baby…” He smiles cheekily as he takes your hand to pull you up with him, as he attempts to rake his other through your hair.

He then leans in to try and kiss you, and you pull away with a scrunch of your nose, “Is that really a good idea right now?” You tease.

“I can’t think of a better one.” Giving you the sloppiest kiss you had the honor of receiving.

You and Eddie had been in his bedroom when he acted upon his urges. He always thought it was so much fun to wrestle and play around with you, and he was happy to find out you had just as much fun.

But today, he took it to another level. An unfair level.

He had you pinned down on the bed, and he was tickling you relentlessly. And after having a pretty fulfilling dinner that wasn’t really going well with your stomach.

Giggling as you beg him to stop, losing your breath as he continues, the unfortunate happens. And a small fart escapes you.

You freeze under him, and he’s frozen too as he hovers over you. You can only imagine the shade of your face as Eddie stares down at you. He’s not even laughing, honestly that would feel better than the intense staring he seems to be doing right now.

Wanting to get out of this vulnerable and embarrassing position faster you sit up quickly and shove him off of you.

He’s falling onto his butt on the bed, with a slightly offended, “Hey!” And he’s pushing you back down so he’s on top of you again, moving down to kiss you fiercely.

He pulls away with a teasing smirk, “That was your first fart with me, Babe. Feel proud.”

You roll your eyes, but feel the blush rising to your cheeks again, and he’s leaning back down to kiss you again.

Tonight was special. Usually when Eddie invited you to his shows it consisted of his band playing covers of they’re favorite artists and bands. Lately, they’d been feeling bold enough to start playing some of Corroded Coffin's originals.

Those were your favorites.

But tonight Eddie wanted to do something special for you.

He had made the guys practice ‘Head Over Heals’, he knew it was your favorite. He hoped you’d think this was a romantic gesture, cause he’d never play such a song for anyone else.

He was putting his metalhead dignity on the line for you.

The guys had tried to tease him about it, but he was quick to remind them that he was the only one who actually has a girlfriend and that shut them up pretty quick.

That Tuesday as he saw you sat in the record breaking crowd of 10 drunks, he felt his nerves start getting the best of him. There was a small pit in his stomach at the thought of making a fool of himself.

And when he starts playing the song that has had him worked up since he started practicing it, his eyes find yours, widened and surprised. That doesn't help his nerves much as the first words he sings are slightly high and scratchy, and he cringes to himself slightly. Pulling himself together for most of the song, but unfortunately a few more voice cracks and off tone notes were sung.

After they had finished and went backstage, he plopped himself down on the rickety couch with a loud groan.

“That was totally shit man.” Gareth said as he made his way backstage too, earning a punch to the shoulder from Jeff, big eyes signaling him to shut up. But Eddie was feeling too distraught to give a single ounce of a shit about what Gareth thought.

“I think you sounded sweet…” Grant admits, trying to make him feel better.

“Yeah, don’t listen to Gareth, he’s a dipshit.” Jeff glares over at the boy.

Eddie, only wanting to be romantic for you, but who would swoon over a nervously high pitched, scratchy rendition of their favorite song?

He lets out a groan into his hands. “Eddie…?” A soft voice causes his head to snap up. There you stood, a sweet smile on your face, and he watched the other guy scramble out of the room as you approached the couch he was sitting on.

You sat yourself down next to him, so close, your bare thigh pressed to his denim clad one. “You sang my favorite song…?” At your words he looks over to you, and your eyes somehow are able to hold the most affection that's ever been directed to him. He knew you would never judge or make fun of him for something like that, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a humbling experience for him. “I thought you said you’d never stoop so low?” You smirk.

“Yeah well, look what that got me…” He scoffs and looks straight forward, and you can tell by his tone this might be a bit more serious.

“I thought it was great…”

“I sounded like an idiot.” He looks over to you.

“No, you didn’t. I thought you sounded sweet…”

“Sweet? I sounded tone deaf.”

“Well, we both know that you aren’t, I think you were just nervous, Eddie. But, just because it was a little pitchy doesn’t mean I didn’t think it was the best thing I’ve ever heard anyone sing.”

You’re smiling so sweetly at him, and he can’t help but chuckle, “Don’t be a suck up…”

“I’m not, like really, that was the sweetest and most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me. I loved it… I Love you…” You admit, feeling your own rush of nerves. It was the first time either of you had said it, but it felt fitting. He was vulnerable for you, you can be vulnerable for him.

He stares at you for a second too long, and you look away nervously, “Sorry, that was weird.” You say, but he vigorously shakes his head.

“No! No, it’s not weird… I just didn’t expect that shitty performance to pull an ‘I Love you’ from you…” He chuckles again, “I Love you too…” And he’s leaning in now, kissing your lips softly.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #heart-eyed-love

529 notes · View notes

theemporium · 10 months ago

Text

[3.5k] married life has perks that you hadn't ever imagined. and it came with duties you never considered to exist in a totally fake, accidental marriage with a three time world champion who was not what he seemed.

series masterlist

As stupid as it sounded considering he had messaged his confirmation, you hadn’t actually expected Max to show up. At most, you expected the question for your address was just going to be him sending the McDonald’s to you with a note saying ‘just this once’.

So when someone knocked on the door a little past ten o’clock, you really weren’t expecting to find Max standing on the other side with a bright smile on his face and two bags full of groceries in his hands.

You stood there, dumbfounded and blinking at the world champion in front of you. “You were serious.”

His brows furrowed together slightly like you were the one being out of character. “Yeah, I was,” he said, waiting a few moments before he continued. “So, are you going to let me in or—”

“Oh, yeah!” You flashed him a shy smile as you stepped to the side, pulling the door open a little wider as he stepped into your apartment. You made a brief, noncommittal noise and muttered something about a kitchen in the direction you waved your hand, but Max walked in the right direction almost like he owned the place.

Like he knew his way around your apartment with ease.

The thought shouldn’t have pleased you as much as it did.

You glanced down at your attire with a frown, your cheeks burning at your chosen outfit but, in your defence, you really hadn’t expected Max—or anyone—to come over tonight. The shirt was an old one of your father’s you had stolen from his closet many years ago, the pyjama bottoms were from a Christmas set your family had got a couple of years ago and your hair was pushed back from your face in some messy hair-do that probably wasn’t the most flattering.

And definitely not the outfit you would have chosen if you knew Max was coming over.

But you pushed down the urge to grab a hoodie or a blanket or anything else to cover yourself up, and instead made your way towards the kitchen.

There was something oddly domestic about the sight: Max standing by the counters, emptying the contents of the bags as he murmured away to himself like he was accounting for what he actually bought. He was dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie (a Red Bull one, unsurprisingly). His hair was messy, dishevelled even, like he hadn’t bothered to put any product in it today.

You decided you preferred it much better like that.

“Are you okay with quesadillas?”

You blinked, looking at Max with raised brows. “You can make quesadillas?”

Max glanced at you over his shoulder, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “You say that like it’s a hard dish to make.”

“I still burn toast,” you admitted with a shrug. “So anything that isn’t charred is impressive to me.”

Max snorted, almost like he thought you were joking. It was embarrassing that you weren’t, and almost impressive itself that you had managed to stay alive this long by yourself after you moved out of your mother’s house.

“Yes, I can make quesadillas,” he said, finally answering your question as he began to move through the kitchen like he belonged. “It won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes at most.”

“I may starve to death by then,” you whined, a playful tint to your words as you pulled yourself to sit up on the empty counter space on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. “McDonald’s would have been faster. And I would have eaten by now.”

Max turned to glare at you, his eyes narrowed. “You hadn’t eaten all day. I wasn’t going to let your first proper meal be McDonald’s.”

“And you said you wanted to be husband of the year,” you murmured, returning the glare and you could see his lips twitching upwards. “Plus, I was too busy to even attempt to cook for myself!”

“Too busy to eat?” He questioned, not quite convinced.

“I got wrapped up in my work,” you admitted, feeling your face burn as he watched you closely. You waited for him to get the same look on his face—the one your brothers’ or your mother always gave you—that screamed ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’. But it never came.

Much to your surprise—something Max had been doing consistently over the last few weeks—he looked intrigued, interested, fascinated.

“What work was it?”

You told yourself it was a throwaway comment. That he was just being polite.

“Are you trying to stall the fact you don’t actually know how to make quesadillas?” You teased, head tilted slightly to the side as Max smirked in response.

“I can multitask,” he assured you. “I can listen and cook.”

“Max Verstappen? Being the listener instead of having people listen to him?” You let out an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Now, that is just unheard of.”

Max rolled his eyes, though you didn’t see the fond action.

“Maybe everyone else just isn’t interesting enough to listen to,” he stated simply as he began to work, collecting the vegetables he had chosen and taking them to sink to wash.

You watched him closely. “And I am?”

“Always,” he said, flashing you a smile over his shoulder before his focus returned to the food.

Despite his offer, you changed the conversation to something that was…well, more of a two way conversation rather than you talking about yourself and your work uninterrupted. Though, you pushed down that kernel of something warm and fuzzy and kept it hidden safe, even if his words were just a polite offer covered in sweet words.

Around forty minutes later, you sat beside the boy on the counter as you both happily ate your quesadillas, a bright smile on your face as he began to retell some old story about him and Charles back in the karting days. Once you had both finished, you took his empty plate and waved away his offer to wash the dishes as you assured him you had a dishwasher that did the job just fine.

Your back was turned to him as you loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher, not seeing the way his eyes drifted to some papers hidden under a pile of magazines.

“Did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“These drawings.”

You froze for a moment before you turned around, finding Max spreading a few sheets across the counter. Your body burned in realisation when you noted they were some of your more recent designs, the ones that didn’t fit the pretty box your professors and teachers wanted, the ones that you liked to just draw for yourself in between projects.

“Those are nothing,” you waved him off, resisting the urge to rush over and snatch them from his hands like a mad woman. “Just silly, little—”

“They are amazing,” Max interrupted, the sincerity in his voice knocking the rest of the words from your throat. “Like, insanely good.”

You put your focus back on cleaning up, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted—almost pleasantly—at his words. You felt like you were moving in a trance as you cleaned down the counters and turned the dishwasher on before you made your way towards Max.

His focus was still on the sketches, his eyes scanning every little detail like it was important for him to memorise it all. You don’t think anyone outside of your teachers had ever looked at your work with such…focus.

“They really are nothing,” you said to Max as you stood beside him, fingers tracing over the drawings like they were gentle strokes of a pencil. “Just some fun on the side.”

“Charles mentioned you went to school for this. Fashion, no?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together like he tried to remember the sliver of information he learnt about you years ago.

“Fashion designing and business management,” you said, letting out a sigh. “I love it, I do. It’s just…”

His attention focused fully on you. “Just what?”

“Constricting, I guess,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. You turned to look at him, expecting judgement but there was nothing but understanding in his eyes. “I know in the long run these classes will help be but sometimes I just…”

“Want to do what you want?” Max finished, a small smile gracing his lips and it looked so pretty with his flushed cheeks. “I get the feeling.”

“One too many team orders ignored?” You questioned, your voice light and teasing and you were glad when he laughed in response.

“Something like that.”

A few moments passed with neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t silent, it never was in Monaco. There was still plenty of noise outside: cars revving, people laughing and cheering, the distant sound of music playing from some party who knows how many streets away. It was never quiet in Monaco, but there was something comforting about the blanket of outside noise when you were in your apartment with Max.

“Come with me.”

He had blurted the words out so suddenly that it took you a few seconds to realise what he said, what he was asking. You blinked once, then twice and still your brain was confused.

“Come with you where?”

He paused before his cheeks burned a light pink colour, like he realised he hadn’t given much explanation or context before he blurted the words out. He cleared his throat, his shoulders looking a little tense as he tried again.

“Come with me to the FIA ceremony,” he said and, if you didn’t know better, you would have sworn he was nervous. Max Verstappen—three time world champion—looked nervous. “I mean, you’re my wife and…stuff.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And I want you there.”

Your lips parted in surprise, taking a few moments before the shock washed away and the questions started. “I—don’t you already have someone as your plus one?”

He looked a little embarrassed when he shook his head. “I honestly planned to go alone.”

Your heart lurched a little at the idea. “Don’t you have to tell them in advance?”

“I’d say a few days is enough,” he replied, a small smirk on his lips once again as realisation dawned on you.

“Oh my god.”

Max frowned a little. “What—”

“I only have a few days to find something to wear!” You hissed, your eyes widening as Max let out a loud, boisterous laugh. You slapped his arm, a wave of panic washing over you. “Max, this is serious! I have nothing!”

Max tried to fight his laughter. “It’s not that big of a deal, you don’t have to wear—”

“Yes, it is a big deal! It’s the official ceremony! I am the world champion’s date!” You said, looking at him like he had grown another head. “Oh my god, I am going to have to go shopping tomorrow.”

Max’s nose wrinkled. “Please tell me husband duties end at quesadillas and don’t extend to shopping trips.”

...

“When you said to come visit you in Monaco before heading home for the holidays, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

The curtain pulled back enough for you to poke your head out and glare at the blond sitting on the purple velvet futon. However, Logan just stared back at you with an absolutely bored expression on his face.

“You said you didn’t mind what we did,” you argued back.

“That was before we knew we would be sucked into dress shopping,” Oscar muttered under his breath, his focus on his phone screen. However, Logan quickly nudged his ribs with the point of his elbow and the Aussie let out a hiss as he snapped his head up. “What? We are, like, the two worst people you could have brought with you.”

“And it’s not fair Arthur got out of it,” Logan added with a pout.

“Who else could I have asked?” You retorted, looking between both boys with an expectant look. “Plus, I want to spend some time with my best friends before Christmas.”

“I know you are only saying best friends to butter us up but I have to say it’s working for me,” Logan admitted with a sigh, ignoring the way Oscar rolled his eyes.

“Charles likes his fashion,” Oscar supplied lamely before frowning. “But not…good fashion.”

“Understatement of the century,” you snorted before pulling the curtain shut again and surveying the pile of dresses you had dragged into the dressing room less than an hour ago. This had been your fourth shop of the day and you still hadn’t found anything to wear for the FIA ceremony. “I don’t think he would have taken so kindly to me asking him which dress he thinks Max would think I look the hottest in.”

“And we would?” Oscar grumbled.

“Is he still pissed?” Logan asked, ignoring the Aussie before you poked your head out and took even longer to get through the dresses. “I thought he was playing nice at the dinner with Pascale.”

“He did,” you confirmed with a nod, even though they couldn’t see you as you frowned at the orange dress you had just slipped on. Definitely not the right shade. “But he has also been forwarding me divorce lawyers and articles on American Marriage Laws.”

“Yikes,” the blond muttered. “He really hates the idea of you being married to Max.”

“He is an overprotective brother, he always has been.” You sighed as you glanced at yourself before shaking your head, moving onto the next dress which was an odd shade of moss green. “I think a part of him just blames himself for not stopping everything back in Vegas, so he feels the need to fix the mess now.”

“Do you wish someone had stopped you?” Oscar asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

You paused, unsure how to answer.

“It’s not like you could have stopped her, grandpa, you were in bed before the sun had even set,” Logan snorted, breaking the few seconds of silence as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“And where were you?” Oscar retorted. “If you were up, why did you not stop her?”

“I was busy myself.”

“Doing what?”

“None of your business, Piastri.”

“Out making your own mistakes?”

“Excuse you—”

“God, maybe it was a mistake to bring the two of you,” you commented as the curtain was pulled open again, and you stood in the entryway of the dressing room. You looked at them, your hands on your hips and a grin on your face. “If I had to guess, I would have said the two of you got married in Vegas with the way you bicker.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “As if I would marry him.”

“Uh, people would love to marry me,” Logan frowned before his attention shifted to your dress, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “Yeah no, puke green looks good on no one. Next!”

...

“Holy shit.”

With the FIA Ceremony being held in Baku, it meant that you and Max had to fly his jet out to Azerbaijan the day before. You hadn’t even thought about the logistics of the trip until after you had bought the dress and Max had sent you confirmation that Christian had managed to book an extra room at the hotel so you didn’t have to share with him.

It was incredibly stupid for you to be so nervous about the whole event when it wasn’t even about you. Yet, Max looked the splitting image of calmness as he sat across from you in the plane, tapping away on his phone as he played some stupid game Lando had got him addicted to.

His nerves remained calm once you landed, his hand on the small of your back as he led you towards the car that was designated with taking you to the hotel. He was a gentleman all throughout dinner as he kept one arm around the back of your chair as he indulged in small talk with Christian and Checo. He even walked you to your hotel room door—though it was next door to his—and pressed a chaste kiss on your cheek and walked towards his room before you could even say anything.

Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, was completely unfazed by the fact he was about to step in front of hundreds of cameras with his new wife.

You, however, were two steps away from shitting yourself.

You had practically clung onto Oscar the next day, needing a sense of normalcy before you had to start getting ready. Though, in an annoyingly predictable turn of events, even Oscar wasn’t fazed by the upcoming ceremony and the award he was about to collect himself. If anything, he found your freakout to be highly entertaining before the boring trophy ceremony began.

You had paced up and down the hotel room more times than you could count as you rushed around, desperately trying to look as put together and elegant as a last minute invite could. Your heart had been in your throat in the minutes leading up to Max knocking on the door.

And for the first time, he didn’t look so sure of himself.

Max stood on the other side of the door—a sight that made your heartbeat pathetically fast as the memory of him showing up the other night at your apartment came to mind—with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was dressed in a suit, his hair styled to perfection, and yet there was a flush on his cheeks as he took in your appearance.

“Good ‘holy shit’ or bad ‘holy shit’?” You teased, though you tried to cover up your own doubt as you glanced down at the floor-length red dress you had finally picked after dragging Oscar and Logan to seven different stores around Monaco.

“Good,” he breathed out, his eyes glazed over like he was in a trance as he took you in. “Definitely good.”

You didn’t even try to hide your grin. “You aren’t mad that it’s Ferrari red?”

“You could have chosen any colour and I’d still consider myself lucky that you’re standing next to me,” Max admitted, something sounding in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before you could ponder for too long, the boy cleared his throat and quickly offered the bouquet to you. “I know a boring awards ceremony isn’t exactly an ideal first date but….here.”

You took the bouquet with a wide smile, leaning down to smell the flowers appreciatively before stepping back into the room to place them on your bedside table. “Thank you, Max, they are beautiful.”

“So are you,” he said it so quietly that you almost swore you made it up.

You turned back to him, mouth open and ready to say something before you paused as you took him in, blinking in surprise.

Max frowned. “What?”

“Is that the same suit you wore last year?”

Max glanced down at himself before shrugging. “Yeah, and the year before that. And the year before that. And—”

You blanched. “You wear the same suit every year?”

“I don’t see why I need to get a new one every year,” Max argued back, clearing his throat a little.

“Max, you’re a three-time world champion. You are going to collect your third world championship,” you continued as you walked back towards where he was standing. “You should be wearing something special to commemorate the day.”

“I won the championship weeks ago though,” he said, his brows furrowed together like he didn’t understand your point. “What’s the big deal about collecting a trophy?”

“You made history this season,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as though you were trying to size him up, trying to understand him. “You should be wearing something more special than a suit you’ve worn years in a row.”

Max nodded like he understood what you meant but his lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Next championship, you can design my suit then.”

You blinked once. And then again.

“You would wear something I designed?” You asked, almost wincing at how soft your voice sounded when you spoke.

“Of course I would,” he said before he offered his arm for you to take. “You have a year, so you’ll have plenty of time to work on a good suit. One appropriate for a four-time world champion.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “And you’re so sure you’ll win next season?”

“Oh, I know it, baby,” Max grinned back at you, and something about the way he smiled made him look so young and mischievous. “Maybe you can make one of your own designs for yourself as well. We could be matching.”

“Maybe,” you said with a smile, letting the hotel door close behind you as you tried to pretend like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest at his implication of doing this again.

...

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 372,947 others

yourusername 3x world champion and great personal carrier. would 10/10 recommend this verstappen guy

view all 21,930 comments

maxverstappen1 the stairs were steep, you would have decked it

oscarpiastri you would have

yourusername i take my thank you back

user SHE WAS HIS DATE KWEBFKBEFJWEF

user omg this keeps getting better

user it's like a fanfic irl

user the tiktok povs could never

landonorris you are so-

yourusername what did i do now?

landonorris you told me you picked the papaya dress

yourusername i said that so you would shut up

landonorris your wife is bullying me maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 good

user i can't believe this is real

user THE FACT SHE POSTED HIM WITH THE TROPHY TOO

user has anyone checked on charles?

arthur_leclerc he is currently breathing into a paper bag

user ARTHUR-

charles_leclerc i'm glad your loyalties still remain with ferrari

yourusername well it is RED bull so...

charles_leclerc i am blocking you

redbullracing our favourite wag!

charles_leclerc i am blocking you too

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

3K notes · View notes

avis-writeshq · 9 months ago

Note

omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever.

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead.

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche.

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk.

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters.

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug.

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.”

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his).

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights.

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight.

***

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

***

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in.

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door.

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there.

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features.

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face.

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

sparks fly masterlist | event page

944 notes · View notes

rowdyluv · 6 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐥𝐡𝟒𝟑

summary: requested by @toasttt11 : “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that makes me want to treat them like they’re royalty, like they do” in which luke yaps out about his girl to jack, luke hasn’t told his girl exactly how much he likes her, jack takes matters into his own hands.

warnings: use of y/n, couple uses of profanity, really it’s just luke being a massive s!mp for his girl so fluff fluff fluff, jack meddling (again)

word count: 2.25k

notes: thank you toast for this prompt request I had a lot of writing this!!! i didn’t think i would finish it so quickly but the tournament i was supposed to ref got cancelled so im stuck in a hotel with nothing to do but read and write… hopefully its good because i already wrote a 6 year in the future pt 2

As Luke slid the key into the lock, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled him up like a cup of his favorite grandma’s homemade hot chocolate after a long day of playing on the outdoor rink as a kid. He had just returned home from his date with a girl he had become absolutely smitten with. Her name was y/n, and she had this alluring way about her that made him feel as if he was walking on the clouds. It was in the way she laughed, how she would talk about her family, it reminded Luke of the way he talked about his family, it was the way she smiled when she talked about her favorite things. To Luke everything about her was perfect.

And now, here he was, back at his shared apartment with his middle older brother, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Jack, had spotted him as he was about to enter the apartment through the windows and was gingerly waiting to ask him what had him so smiley.

Luke routinely wears this tight lip, apprehensive smile but after being around her or simply just the thought of her was enough to bring out his genuine smile. “Who or what has you so giddy? You look like a child who was just told they were given unlimited access to a toy store for the next year.” Jack questioned. Scampering around their small living room to stay right on his younger brother’s heels. Attempting to insure he didn’t miss Luke’s answer. Luke didn't even need to think about it before he replied, "I’ve been seeing someone...and let’s say, if someone would have asked me what I wanted them to put together in a female, she is it. Wholly everything." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in for Jack. Luke’s heart was still beating rapidly even after being away from y/n for half an hour now. He was truly down bad.

Jack's eyebrows raised, his mouth agape. Not believing what he just heard quite yet, "Wait, you mean you're in a relationship with someone?" He asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Luke shook his head no, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. Jack narrowed his eyebrows as if to question him why no, but didn’t just yet. Sometimes dating exclusively just doesn’t happen. "And this girl, she's...she's really special?" He prodded. Luke nodded again only a yes this time, and more confidently. "Yeah, Jack. Y/n is really special. I don't think I've ever met another girl that makes me want to treat her like she's royalty all the time, like she does." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I think...I think I might be falling in love with her." The silence that followed was deafening. Jack beginning to think Luke just might be serious.

Jack looked at Luke, attempting to gauge if he was serious or if he was just being his typical sarcastic self. But when he studied Luke’s eyes and noticed the sincerity shining through and the emotions held in each word he spoke that this definitely was not a joke. There was no way this was just another one of Luke's short flops either. He was serious about this girl.

For a short lived moment, Jack felt a pang of jealousy that the youngest was seemingly finding himself in a serious relationship. Only he quickly reminded himself that it wasn't like he was necessarily someone who had truly went out and tried to find himself someone special either. It also wasn't like Luke had ever been the kind to want anything that was deemed as just a good time or an easy lay. However, he also wasn’t one to talk about love, girlfriends, and all that over the top mushy stuff. Those topics were more of Quinn’s realm of interest. Jack had never thought he'd hear any of this from his younger brother. At least he didn’t expect it fresh out of his rookie year when women throw themselves at him.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, moving to sit on the couch next to Jack, emptying out his pockets onto the table, all while being under Jack's intense studying stare. "What?" He asked, not entirely sure how to react to his brother's silence. “So, you want to treat her like royalty?” Jack reiterated Luke’s previous comment. Luke nodded, feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. Luke dropped his face into his hand for a few moments thinking how he’s going to approach his response before he spoke.

Jack took his chance and grabbed Luke’s phone. He knew his brother all toowell. He knew he would likely never be brave enough to spill out whatever confession he is about word vomit to him out again, let alone to y/n. He quickly shot off a text to her about it being from Jack, and that he was calling her but needed her to listen to the conversation, not talk to him unless he talks to her. Does Jack feel bad for tricking his baby brother and this girl? Oh definitely. But he thinks it will help him, he hopes it will at least. He’s grateful that Luke even mentioned her name.

“Yes I do want to treat her right. I don’t know her past relationships, and I’m not sure that they even matter? If it is her and I, I hope she never thinks of him or them again. I want to give her every reason to forget they ever even existed. I want to make her world be an entirely different place than it is now. Make it different. Better. Because she deserves it. So. Yeah Jack, yes, I want to be the guy who opens the door for her, who treats her like she's the most important person in the room, shit the most important person in this world. I want to make her feel special, you know?" He shrugged, looking up for the first time before meeting his brother's gaze. Thank goodness, Jack had the phone discreetly placed. Luke could continue his rambling which Jack knew by the way his eyes were glassed and his pupils dilated so large, “Go ahead, continue talking about her. You’ve stayed quiet about her for a while apparently, let’s hear it.” Jack wasn’t that interested or invested in Luke’s overtly smitten relationship but he was happy seeing his baby brother so happy.

Luke let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth spread from his chest to his fingertips. "Y/n is amazing, Jack. She's funny, and so damn smart, I am talking mom smart. I have never met anyone else as smart as mom until her, and...and the best part, get this she had no idea who I was before I introduced myself. I was just Luke to her, I wasn’t Luke Hughes, New Jersey Devil. I was just Luke again. I didn’t have to overcome some preconceived idea she already had of me. I only had to worry about the one she would form of me when we first met. She knows now that I play for the Devils, I wanted to be open about it but it was so nice to meet with out having to fight for showing someone that I am more than hockey. So for her, although it has only been a few true dates and a couple times seeing each other I want to show her that to me, she's as important as a princess." Luke paused, there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was imagining the moments of treating her, loving her. "She hates being paid for, but I want to give her everything she desires, needs, I don’t want to do it because I’m fortunate enough to be able to. I want to because she never puts herself first. If she’ll be with me, one day she’ll be the first in my universe.” Luke turned his to look at his older brother, hoping that he was getting through to him. He sure was. Jack was nothing short of wonderstruck.

"She's a lucky girl, you know that? To have someone like you who genuinely cares for her, who sees beyond the superficial layers and goes deep, who wants to make her feel so special." Luke nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No. You’re wrong. I am the lucky one. I just hope she knows how I feel. I don't want to mess this up." Jack reached over and pulled Luke into him by the shoulder, a normal gesture of affection from the older brother. "Just be you, little bro. That's all you can do, seems it already worked for you. Right? Mr. Just Luke. Question is though, have you even began to tell her any of this?” Jack asked him possibly the most important question of the entire conversation.

Luke paused for a moment, his expression turning down from the previous glowing high. "Not yet. Us Hughes boys do have a track record of doing or saying dumb shit too early. I don't want to put any pressure on her to reciprocate the same feelings. I just want her to know that she makes me happy, that she's special to me. But I want her to feel it, see it in my actions, without having to say it." He sighed, resting his head back against the couch. "But I know I should tell her, right?”

Jack flashed him a smile, retracting his his arm from over his shoulders and dropping it over to pat Luke's knee. "Yeah, you should. But you've got this, little bro. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're being genuine. She'll see it. And if you're still worried about it, well, I'll always be here to help you. Like now.” Jack revealed that he had stolen Luke’s phone off the coffee table when he had dropped his head earlier in the conversation. Y/n listened silently hearing his verbose words he shared over their time together. Her heart palpitated a few times over things he had said specifically about her. No one had ever talked about her the way Luke did. It made her feel ways she was unsure how to put into words just yet.

A few moments of shared unutterable silence spread across the three of them when Jack had announced that y/n was on the phone and she inevitably had heard Luke’s emotional admiration for her, y/n’s voice finally broke through the speaker of the phone.

"Luke, I'm so glad you told him that. Or well both of us that.. It's just... well, you know... I am just me, a normal person. There’s no need to overplay it silly boy." Her voice was soft, almost shy like it was the night Luke and her me. Probably because Jack was listening, but there was still the hint of that playfulness that Luke had started to love. "I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you see past all of my quirky interests and...” She paused for just a split second “Can I come off speaker phone? Uhm.. I really just want Luke to hear this.” Jack handed Luke his phone with a smug I told you so look plastered on his face. “Hey, it’s just you and I now.” Luke told her, even getting up off couch to allow space between him and his nosey brother. Luke had a smile so big spread across his face. Jack couldn’t help but smile too. His baby brother was growing up on him. Y/n continued, “and most of all I like that you're just Luke for me, and that you felt comfortable enough to still tell me so quickly about your life when you could’ve kept me in the dark for however long you wanted to. You may be this hockey star, but for me you’re just Luke. I mean, I know you're amazing at hockey and all, but that doesn’t define who you are in life. You are so much more. You're funny and sweet and thoughtful, and I just... I just can't help but feel lucky that I get to spend time with you. And I hope you know that." She paused, her voice catching a little, and Luke could swear he could hear her sniffling. "So, um, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I want you to know that I feel the same way.” Luke’s face kept flushing deeper shades of red it was nearly burgundy by the time y/n was finished talking. He couldn’t form a coherent sentence without stammering entirely over his words. He pulled his phone away from his ear and opened their text thread.

“Can I come to your place? I think we should finish talking in person?”

Luke pressed send and heard her cute giggle through the phone speaker. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.” The two shared their goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “Jack. You’re dead when I get back, but thank you.” Luke said to his brother scurrying around the living room for his shirt he discarded earlier and his sneakers.

Luke grabs his keys and wallet from the bowl in the table by the door. Murmuring a goodbye to Jack and essentially leaps out the door. He has a very little talking he wants to complete and a lot of affection to start giving. Y/N is anticipating his arrival because first thing she plans on doing is nabbing a kiss from the sweetest boy on this planet. Both of them riddled with anticipation to see each other. If they turn out not to be meant for each other, then there is no way soulmates exist. Luke and y/n are two halves apart that become one when close to one another.

707 notes · View notes

macbethsymphony · 6 months ago

Note

I know you said you have a hard time writing him, but can I request something with Sanji? I really love your enemies to lovers dynamic in your Zoro fic, so maybe something like that? Can you make it spicy too? just something short pretty please!

(No stress if you don't want to)

-💙

Anon!!! Now I don't know if I made this man justice! I'm sorry it took so long! I really tried my best!! I got a little carried away, so this isn't really something short anymore... BUT I hope you'll like it 💕 I'm also tired and didn't proofread this as much as I should have!

I Hate Flirts

Sanji x Female Reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, enemies to lovers, smut, oral, p in v sex

To say your first impression of the cook, as you first joined the Straw Hat Pirates, was bad was one hell of an understatement. You weren’t a fan of pretty boys, and most of all, you weren’t a fan of flirts.

Hell, you hated flirts.

When Luffy had introduced you to the crew, you’d tried to put on your best smile. Everyone seemed nice enough—Zoro, with his comfortable demeanor; Nami, who welcomed you with a knowing smile; Usopp and Chopper, who were immediately friendly.

And then there was Sanji.

He’d approached you with that cheeky smile, a bouquet of flowers seemingly conjured out of thin air. “For the beautiful new member of our crew,” he’d said, taking your hand and kissing it with far too much charm.

You’d yanked your hand back, not being able to keep the sneer breaking on your lips at the gesture. “Don’t do that,” you snapped almost immediately.

It’d been entirely reactionary and the guilt you felt at the hurt in his eyes only served to widen the rift you’d created.

Sanji’s grin had faltered, just for a moment, before he replaced it with an exaggerated bow. “As you wish, mademoiselle. But my admiration knows no bounds.”

Your eyes narrowed at his answer. Something about it irked you beyond comprehension.

From that moment on, it was war. Sanji flirted relentlessly, his attempts becoming more and more ridiculous as he tried to win you over. You, in turn, shot him down at every opportunity, sometimes with a sharp retort, most of the time with a well-placed punch to the shoulder.

Despite the ongoing one-sided battle, you couldn’t deny that Sanji excelled in many places. He fought well and in the boredom of the endless sea, the meals he prepared were a highlight of your day. After all, you most definitely had a taste for the finer things in life.

As his cooking slowly broke away your apprehension towards him, you started to grudgingly admire his dedication to his craft. There was something about the way he moved in the kitchen, all precision and passion, that you couldn’t help but respect… Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

The rest of the crew found your dynamic endlessly entertaining. Nami would give you knowing looks, Zoro would snicker behind his sake, and Luffy, bless his heart, was just happy to have another person on board.

Despite everything, you had to admit the cook had his moments.

You weren’t sure what had taken you over but one extremely boring afternoon, your feet mindlessly brought you to the kitchen. Just as expected Sanji was there, elbow deep in preparations.

You leaned against the doorframe, quietly observing as he twirled the knife in his hands, as he chopped at a speed that was lightning-fast. “Need any help?” The words left your mouth before your mind could register them.

Sanji looked up, surprise clear on his features but a certain pleased glimmer filled his eyes. “A lady—“ he started to protest, the words dying on his lips as he saw your expression start to shift. “I-I’d love the help,” he muttered uncertainly instead.

You stepped into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves as you moved to stand beside him. The countertop was cluttered with various ingredients, a testament to the elaborate meal he was undoubtedly preparing.

“What can I do?” you asked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

Sanji handed you a knife and a cutting board. “Can you, uh, chop these vegetables? Uniform pieces, please.”

You took the knife from him, noting the gentle brush of his fingers against yours. Ignoring the slight warmth that spread through you, you focused on the task at hand. As you worked, the kitchen filled with the rhythmic sound of chopping, accompanied by the occasional clatter of pots and pans.

“Not bad,” Sanji commented, peeking at your progress. “You’ve got a good hand for this.”

“Surprised?” you shot back with a coy smirk, your tone teasing.

He laughed. “Maybe a little. You never struck me as the domestic type.”

You couldn’t help the soft chuckles that passed your lips. “I’m not,” you admitted. “But I have picked up a few skills along the way.” Your gaze was distant for a moment. “There’s nothing like good food and an excellent bottle of wine.” You punctuated your statement with a fancy twirl of your knife.

“Good wine, huh?” He said, curiosity piqued.

“Oh the things I would do for a good Cabernet and dark chocolate,” you mused dreamily.

Sanji’s eyes lit up. “A fellow connoisseur? Now that’s something I didn’t expect!” He set down his own knife and looked at you with genuine interest. “What’s your favorite dish to pair with a good wine?”

You paused, contemplating your answer. “I’d say a rich beef bourguignon. The deep, savory flavors work perfectly with a full-bodied red.”

Sanji’s smile grew wider, an expression of pure delight. “You have excellent taste,” he said, clearly impressed. “How about you help me make that tonight? I’ve got some top-quality beef in the pantry.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You want to make bourguignon? Right now? What about all this?” You gestured at what you’d been chopping.

“Why not?” he replied, enthusiasm shining in his eyes. “It’s a perfect way to spend a boring afternoon, don’t you think? The prep can serve for tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his infectious excitement. “Alright, let’s do it.”

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, prepping ingredients and discussing various cooking techniques. Sanji’s knowledge of culinary arts was vast, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. He was patient, guiding you through the more intricate parts of the recipe without a hint of condescension.

As the bourguignon simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma, Sanji uncorked a bottle of red wine. “Here,” he said, pouring you a glass. “A little something to pass the time while we wait.”

You took the glass, savoring the rich, velvety flavor of the wine. “This is amazing,” you admitted, glancing at him. “Where did you get it?”

“A gift from a grateful villager,” he replied with a wink. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And making beef bourguignon with me counts as a special occasion?”

Sanji’s expression softened, a hint of sincerity shining through his usual flirtatious demeanor. “Every moment with you is special.”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, it was more out of habit than annoyance. “If you think this is getting you into my pants, think again,” you admonished though your tone remained playful.

He blushed and sputtered, choking on his sip of wine.

Cute.

You smiled as you looked at him. It was the first time you’d seen this side of Sanji – the side that wasn’t really trying to win you over with charm and gifts, but simply being kind. You really looked at him for the first time. Maybe there was more to Sanji than the flirtatious exterior. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth getting to know beyond the playful banter.

As the weeks flowed, your dynamic shifted. Sanji’s flirtations became less over-the-top, more sincere. He still never missed an opportunity, but there was a gentleness to it now, a hint of genuine affection. And damn it, you found yourself responding in kind.

You weren’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day, you caught yourself laughing at one of his ridiculous flirting attempts. It was a real, deep and true laughter, the sound surprising both of you. Sanji’s eyes widened, a slow smile spreading across his face.

From that moment on, he craved to hear the cheerful din of your laughter again and again, especially when it was only for him.

One evening, as you mindlessly sipped a Cabernet with dark chocolate, you looked at him differently. As he hummed to himself, washing the dishes, you found yourself thinking this was nice.

“You know, Sanji,” you started, munching on chocolate. “I think I wouldn’t mind it if you tried to get into my pants.”

Sanji nearly dropped the plate he was washing, turning to face you with wide eyes and a face quickly turning as red as the wine you were sipping. “W-What?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You took another sip of your wine, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “You heard me,” you said casually, savoring the rich liquid. “I think I wouldn’t mind it. If you tried, that is.”

Sanji blinked, his usual suave demeanor momentarily replaced with genuine surprise and nervousness. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words.

You chuckled softly, enjoying his flustered state. “Cat got your tongue, cook?”

You got up, slowly making your way to him. Your fingers traced his jaw as you looked at him through your lashes. “Unless I’m mistaken and you’re not interested. That’s fine too, I guess.”

Sanji swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously under your touch. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “No, no, you’re not mistaken,” he said, his voice a little shaky but sincere. “I’ve just… I’ve...”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Well then, in that case, you could kiss me,” you suggested, your voice soft and inviting.

Sanji’s eyes searched yours for a moment, as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then, with a deep breath, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of more to come.

Promises you didn’t want to wait for.

You softly bit at his lower lip, asking for more. Sanji’s hesitation melted away as he responded to your encouragement, deepening the kiss with newfound confidence, His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as your lips moved in sync. His tongue met yours in a careful dance, the taste of chocolate, wine, and cigarettes mingling between you.

Time seemed to slow as you lost yourself in the moment, the gentle sway of the ship only adding to the intoxicating feeling. Your fists bunched in his shirt, then his hair, desire clear in the desperation of your movements. He stumbled forward, pinning you to the counter, your back arched and you wished you could melt into him more than physically possible.

You pulled away slightly, breathless and dizzy with lust. “Does the door have a lock?” you asked breath hot against his.

Sanji’s breath was ragged as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. He looked towards the kitchen door, then back at you, eyes dark with desire. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice husky. “It does.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Good,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you did so. “Lock the door for me, pretty boy?”

The click of the lock seemed to break the last of Sanji’s restraint. He captured your lips again, this time with more urgency, his hands roaming your body with a newfound boldness. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your core.

You tugged at his shirt, impatiently pulling it free from his pants, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. Sanji’s breath hitched at the contact, his hands moving to unbutton your own clothing with equal fervor.

As your garments fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, Sanji lifted you onto the counter, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. He paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a reverent expression on his face. You moved to remove your black lacy underwear but his hand stopped you.

“I want you to keep it on,” he breathed, his voice filled with genuine awe. “You’re a vision.”

Your eyebrow arched but still you blushed at his words and you most definitely didn’t let them slow you down. “Show me how much,” you challenged, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

Sanji didn’t need to be told twice. His lips traveled from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nips that had you gasping for breath. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, driving you wild with want.

As he trailed down your abdomen he dropped down to his knees, hands going around your thighs and dragging you to the edge. He looked up at you, veneration in his eyes. “Can I taste you?” He almost begged.

You took your time to answer him, reveling in the sight. Your hand lazily cupped his cheek, tangled in his hair. “Yes.” Your whisper was almost lost against the sound of waves crashing against the hull.

His tongue met already dripping black lace. He lapped and sucked with adoration and the muted feeling of ecstasy threatened to send you over the edge again and again. Until your thighs shook and you were reduced to a babbling mess, begging for his tongue against your flesh.

When he at long last dragged the ruined piece of cloth down your legs and his tongue finally met your slick with worship, his name flowed across your lips like a prayer. The waves of pleasure that washed over you were overwhelming and as orgasm after orgasm flowed through you he didn’t relent, drinking you in with a fervor born of reverence. You could feel your arousal drip down your trembling thighs, down his chin, the moans that escaped you as you implored him to stop obscene.

When you collapsed in exhaustion and your shrieks born of overstimulation became soft sobs and whimpers he finally backed off. Gently, he guided you lower, a hand behind your head as he lay you down against the cool granite of the counter.

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, allowing your mind to slowly come back to reality. His tongue danced with yours with careful consideration, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth. “I want to feel you around me, I want to feel your warmth, I want to…” he pleaded against your lips.

“Sanji, please,” you whispered, your voice laced with need.

Forehead to forehead Sanji’s eyes met yours, his gaze blown with lust. “Anything for you, my love” he promised, his hands unsteady as he positioned himself.

He slowly slid in, both of you moaning, your breaths mingling in want. You mewled, your head falling back as Sanji began to move, each thrust a symphony of pleasure that built and built until you thought you might shatter from the sheer intensity of it.

Sanji’s rhythm was desperate, his movements ragged and teetering as he brought you higher and higher. Your name fell from his lips in a litany of praise and need, each syllable driving him to push you further.

As the tension within you reached a fever pitch, you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you rode the waves of ecstasy that crashed over you. Sanji followed soon after, hips stuttering, hot seed mingling with your slick as it slowly overflowed and dripped down unto the counter.

For a moment, the world was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the steady beat of your hearts, and the gentle sway of the ship. You clung to each other, lost in the afterglow, the reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in.

You were the first to break the silence, your voice raspy and filled with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. “Sanji, that was incredible,” you chuckled. “I don't think I can stand.”

His laughter mingled with yours, a rich, heartfelt sound that filled the room. Your heart filled with contentment. The moment was perfect, a blend of intimacy and joy that neither of you would ever let go of.

Masterlist

#one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece x reader #sanji smut #charlou writes

373 notes · View notes

lonely-cowboy · 11 months ago

Text

breaking point

pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader

summary: to prove which of you is the better detective, you and connor like to play a little game. this time around, connor is more determined than ever to reach your breaking point.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: nothing but wildly ooc connor, it’s just them yapping away and being arrogant lil assholes

author's note: do i like this? not at all. am i gonna blame it on the fact it's 1am? sure. i just wanted to write smth ok, leave me alone

masterlist ⟡ requests

The best days at the precinct were the ones with no work. No crime scenes to investigate, no files to sort, no nothing. But they weren’t your favorite because you hated your job and the workload (quite the opposite, actually). No, they were your favorite because you could have some alone time with Connor, playing the little game you always did.

As head forensic psychologist, you were primarily tasked with interviewing suspects and analyzing their reactions. Your job got a lot harder when Connor joined the department, making your job look so much easier than it actually was.

Rather than view him as your rival, you viewed Connor as a challenge. You wanted to prove (to yourself more than anyone else) that you were just as good at your job as any android. Besides, you respected Connor’s interrogation process far too much to hate him. Or rather, you liked watching him during his interrogation process. Really, you just liked watching him in general.

When there was no work and the precinct was nearly empty, you and Connor were allowed to take over the interrogation room. You would sit across from each other, doing everything you could to make the other break in a mock interrogation.

It was there that you found yourself, hands neatly clasped atop the table and brow raised in arrogant curiosity. Connor stood opposite you with his palms pressed against the table, scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes. His eyes scanned over you as he tilted his head in that annoyingly endearing way before pulling back and rubbing his hands together in thought.

“Do you believe Lieutenant Anderson is a good mentor?” Connor asked.

The two of you always asked each other meaningless questions, doing your best to refrain from answering or to successfully lie to the other. At this question, you remained silent for a moment longer than you should have.

“Yes,” you replied simply, offering a nonchalant shrug in an attempt to throw Connor off.

“You’re lying,” he accused immediately.

“I would never,” you retorted. “I’m offended you would think so.”

Connor ceased his questioning to eye you suspiciously. His eyes trailed over your body for any indication of discomfort or nervousness. You hoped he wouldn’t find any.

“The brevity of your response and lack of natural movement suggest you’re lying,” Connor said as he studied you again. “You believe you’d be a better mentor than Lieutenant Anderson, don’t you?”

“In some aspects, yes,” you answered truthfully. After all, to lie properly was to occasionally tell the truth.

Connor nodded along with your response, noting the way you remained unaffected despite being caught in a lie. He would need to do something more to break you, something that would make you sweat.

Your gaze followed Connor as he started to pace the length of the room. Your attention was drawn to his LED as it flashed quickly between colors. Blue. Yellow. Red. Red? Yellow.

The occasional bright red made your brows furrow. Was he really that stumped? He couldn’t think of a single way to break you? You doubted it. Something else must have been on his mind, your thoughts racing at what could have him so conflicted.

“Connor,” you whispered hesitantly.

The sound of his name seemed to snap him back to attention. Connor immediately stopped pacing and fixed you with a steady gaze as if he had come to a decision. With careful steps, Connor rounded the table to stand beside you. He leaned against the table and looked down at you with his arms crossed confidently.

“You’re hard to break, aren’t you?” he murmured.

The crease between your brows deepened as your confusion grew. You were puzzled by Connor’s sudden proximity and the low tone of his voice.

“Well, I… I guess it’s part of the job,” you said softly.

Connor nodded and agreed simply, “Truth.”

Another beat of silence passed as Connor did nothing but watch you. His eyes flitted about your figure, though it seemed as though he wasn’t analyzing you this time around. It was like he was looking at you just to look at you.

“Do you find enjoyment in our little game? In successfully lying to me?” Connor inquired.

You were hesitant to answer, your confusion outweighing any thought. When you did speak, your voice cracked slightly when you answered, “Yes.”

“Do you find enjoyment in other ways from our game?” he continued.

“No.”

“Lie.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Connor. You wanted to tear your gaze away from his desperately, but there was something so appealing about the hardness of his typically gentle eyes.

When you didn’t answer, Connor raised his brows and leaned forward expectantly. The intensity of his gaze made you suddenly nervous, your heart racing as you moved to fidget with your hands.

“I need a truthful answer, Detective,” Connor stated firmly.

He knew the answer. He knew you were lying. He just wanted you to say it. There was no point in denying anything now.

“Yes.”

Connor hummed and finally pulled his gaze away from you, allowing you to sigh in relief. There was something in his eyes that made you… inexplicably anxious.

“Can you elaborate?” Connor prodded after a moment.

“I can,” you replied quietly. “But I don’t want to.”

At your refusal, Connor’s attention snapped back to you, the crinkle in his brow suggesting his mild surprise.

“Why is that, Detective?” he urged. When he got no response, only your steady gaze locked with his, he continued. “Are you worried it may incriminate you?”

“No,” you replied calmly.

Admittedly, you were very proud of yourself for keeping such an unperturbed composure. Your face remained tranquil and your voice confident. But your external composure meant nothing, not when it was Connor interrogating you. He could detect your pounding heart and uneven breaths with ease. You bet he could even sense the claminess of your palms.

“Lie.”

You weren’t entirely sure why you even attempted to lie anymore. Connor was a walking polygraph, he could see through any of your lies no matter how believable they were.

But being as stubborn as you were, you refused to admit that Connor was right. Instead, you sucked in a slow breath and pressed your lips in a thin line, eyes locked on Connor the entire time. Your stubbornness made him frown, though you knew it was a quality he had always admired.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me yourself then I’ll just have to guess,” Connor shrugged with mock defeat. He pretended to think for a moment, lips pursed in a way that made your eyes dart to his mouth. “Is it because you find superiority in besting me?”

Connor started tame. Anyone would feel superior after besting an android, he was well aware of that. And you knew he was aware. What was he trying to get at?

“Yes, partially,” you said, cursing yourself for admitting that it was only part of the reason you found your mock interrogations so enjoyable.

Connor seemed unphased by your answer as if he already knew there was more to your enjoyment. He sat in quiet deliberation again, though he had already settled on his next question.

“Is it because you’re attracted to me?” Connor questioned innocently.

Connor was smart, you knew this. You knew this and still thought that maybe– just maybe— he wouldn’t be able to guess correctly.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing away from Connor, knowing that it only made you look more suspicious. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you.

“Detective?” Connor pressed as he waited patiently for an answer.

You startled at the light touch of his hand on your chin as he slowly turned you back to him. He kept a gentle but firm grip on your chin, looking down at you questioningly. The feeling of his skin against yours didn’t help at all. It only worked to accelerate your heartbeat, which Connor immediately took note of.

“Your heart rate has increased by 32%, Detective,” Connor observed. “An increased and irregular heart rate is typically a sign of nervousness. Are you nervous?”

“You know the answer,” you mumbled.

“You’re right, I do,” he confessed easily. “But I want to hear it from you; are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Because I was correct in assuming you’re attracted to me?”

You inhaled slowly, working up the nerve to answer. But there was no point, you both knew your answer. He knew. You knew. It felt like everyone in the precinct– everyone in the world– knew.

“Yes…”

The corner of Connor’s lips quirked into a satisfied smirk having successfully broken his most stubborn participant. He slowly pulled his hand away from your chin, resting it flat against the tabletop. His arrogance sparked something inside you, compelling you to act unnaturally bold.

“Fine, you win,” you grunted, rising from your seat. “Congratulations.”

Without much thought, you reached for Connor’s tie and yanked him into you, smashing your lips against his. Your hand was tight around his tie, your nerves seeping into your grip. You pulled away sharply, only allowing him a quick kiss before your nerves could fully return. You released his tie and gently pushed his chest to put some distance between the two of you.

“There’s your prize,” you hissed, though you both knew there was nothing menacing behind your tone.

It was Connor’s turn to feel flustered, finally. His cheeks were coated with a faint blush, his eyes wide and utterly perplexed. His lips were still parted slightly like he was savoring the feeling of your lips against his. Unease boiled in your chest the longer Connor did nothing.

But the look in his eyes settled any feelings of insecurity. He looked entirely infatuated with you. And when he spoke again, that infatuation only made itself clearer.

“If that’s my prize, I’ll have to win more often.”

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

660 notes · View notes

cloudcountry · 2 years ago

Text

kiss me more (book six spoilers)

SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.

CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.

~~~~~

Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.

And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.

Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.

Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.

The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”

“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.

“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”

Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.

He shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”

“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”

“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.

He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.

They don’t move.

He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?

“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”

“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.

They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.

And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.

#auburn's fics <3 #drabbles <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #twst vil x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit fluff #vil schoenheit x reader

2K notes · View notes

spencerlicious · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I noticed your requests open and I had an idea rattling around my brain where Spencer is trying to break things off to protect reader from the dangers of his job but she won't let him and it's angsty but with a happy ending oh pretty please?!?

thank you for your request!! sorry it took literally forever lol

protect you

spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n (one time, i'm so sorry it was necessary), a little bit of angst, that's it! lmk if there's anything i should add!!

w.c.: 0.8k

—

He was acting distant, and you could tell.

You were used to Spencer coming home from a case exhausted, but he would always kiss you softly, telling you how much he missed you and occasionally even sharing a few details from the case.

When he arrived to your apartment this time, however, it was different. You heard your door being unlocked, and you dropped the pan you'd been washing into the soapy water. "Hi, Spence," you say happily, going to greet him.

He kicks his shoes off gently, the slightly beat up converse landing next to your own shoes. Finally looking at you, Spencer forces a smile. "Hi," he says quietly, pulling his messenger bag off and hanging it above his shoes.

Your expression falters slightly- he's usually more enthusiastic about seeing you. "How was the case?" you ask, hoping to gain some insight as to why he's acting this way.

He takes a deep breath before responding. "Really rough." Spencer bypasses you and sits on the couch, picking a book up off of your coffee table and thumbing through it. You watch as he walks past you without touching you, your eyes narrowed in confusion.

In an attempt to make him feel better, you head back into the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. The water begins to heat as you put pieces together in your head. He'd barely called or texted on this case, didn't let you know when the jet had landed, and now he was very closed off. You drop the tea bag into the mug and walk over to the couch where Spencer is reading.

"I made you some tea," you say, offering the mug to him as you sit next to him on the plush sofa.

"Oh, thank you," he looks up from the book and takes the mug, barely even looking at you.

You sigh. "Spencer."

He looks at you finally, eyebrows raised. "Y/N?" he answers.

"What is going on with you? Even on really bad cases, you're still excited to see me..." your voice wobbles.

He frowns slightly, taking a sip of the hot tea. "I am happy to see you," he begins, "but I don't think we can stay together."

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. "What?" you stutter, your eyes becoming glossy. The atmosphere of your apartment - usually very warm and cozy - is suddenly cold and closing in.

Spencer looks at you awkwardly. "It's not that I don't like you, I really, really like you, but my job is so dangerous, and this case reminded me of how much danger I put you in by being in a relationship with you," he says, his eyebrows knit together as his lips turn into a frown.

Tears draw jagged paths on your cheeks, and it breaks Spencer's heart to see. "I don't understand," you finally say. "Your job has nothing to do with me."

He takes a deep breath and sets the mug down on the coffee table, before reaching for your hand. His fingers intertwine with yours. "On this case, the unsub was targeting the family members of people he'd perceived as doing him harm. Wives, children, pet...it was awful." He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. "I don't want you to ever be put in a position like that just because of my job. I look around the team and see how much some of my friends have lost, and I couldn't bear to lose you like that."

You bring your hands to your face, wiping away the tears that are falling. "So you want to break up?" Your voice is shaky as you try to come to terms with what Spencer is saying.

His head shakes. "No, no, I don't want to break up with you," he struggles, "but I'm scared for what could happen."

You push the tears away again, continuing the motion to also push your hair back. "I'm not scared," you say. "How could I be when I have my scary FBI agent boyfriend to protect me?"

You and Spencer both laugh, and it breaks the tension slightly.

"I can't always be there to protect you," he says.

"I can hold my own, you know?" you say, half laughing. "I really don't want to break up, Spence."

He nods. "I don't either."

You move across the couch and he pulls you into his lap. "Two out of two votes, I concur that we're not breaking up," you say, kissing his cheek.

Spencer grins at you softly, admiring your humor. His fingers come up to your cheeks to wipe away the paths that your tears carved. "I'm sorry I freaked out," he says.

You rest your forehead against Spencer's. "It's okay baby, I understand. I'm glad we talked about it. Maybe from now on we try to communicate more while you're away on cases that way you know I'm okay?" you say, cocking your head to the side with a small smile.

"I'd like that," Spencer says before kissing your lips gently.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! not really sure how i feel about this one, i'm trying to get back into writing more consistently and i'm sure my fics will get better over time, haha.

i totally think spence would be suuuuper protective over reader, so this is totally a plausible scenario. than you again for your request <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert

273 notes · View notes

lunarmoves · 5 months ago

Text

a yawn escapes your mouth, cracking your jaw with its force as you belatedly lift a hand in an attempt to cover it. your muscles stretch with the deep intake of breath, then relax just as quickly. oof.

"tired?" a familiar voice asks from somewhere in front of you, low like the hum of the cosmos.

you find yourself opening your scrunched eyes to blink hazily at sun. he offers you an unreadable smile, fingertips pressed together quaintly from his position beyond the daycare's security desk. it's just you and him in here, waiting for the lights to inevitably go out.

you rub at one of your eyes, wiping away any stray tears from your yawn. "you could say that. 's been a long day." your arms lift over your head in a stretch. sitting in the little chair by the security desk for hours at a time doesn't do wonders for your back and shoulders. "doesn't help that i had all those sandwiches earlier," you add with a grimace, eyeing all the wrappers you'd piled in a corner of the desk. you can still feel the heaviness in your gut from them. fazco sandwiches are sincerely no joke.

sun's head tilts to the side slightly. his eyes narrow a little, as though in thought. "why would that matter?"

"oh." you blink at him, letting your arms rest on your thighs. you ponder upon his question. "well, sometimes when we eat a lot of food, it makes us sleepy."

sun lets out a hum, and his head does a full rotation. tick tick ticking away until it straightens itself properly. he leans forward to rest his arms on the top of the desk. "that seems... counterproductive," he responds, thoughtful.

you shrug and lean back in your seat. "that's just how it is for us. i think it depends on the kinds of food we eat."

he's quiet for a moment, the daycare's little jingle echoing around the room. his white gaze has latched onto your own, though you wonder if he's really seeing you and not... lost in whatever artificial thoughts are running through his head. you can never tell what they are. and when he eventually speaks again, you wonder grimly if knowing is truly something you even want.

"humans are so inefficient," he says like he's ruminating over the laws of physics. you quirk an eyebrow at him. he continues, "your biology is so limiting."

you frown at him. this is... unexpected, to say the least. you're unsure how to handle it. "well, i guess, but—"

"the other day," he interrupts you, one of his fingers tapping steadily at the bottom of his faceplate, "you had something in your eye. it was an eyelash. why have something that hinders you in this manner?"

"it's just... things we've learned to deal with," you respond stiffly, giving him another halfhearted shrug. "things we cannot help. evolution, y'know? we can't all be designed to perfection." it's said sourly, your gaze not-so-discreetly shifting up and down his figure.

"hm, yes." the tapping gets steadily faster. you are unable to tear your gaze away from his own encompassing one. white lights behind a sliver of glass. "you know, friend"—he leans down closer to you, voice lowering until it's no louder than a whisper—"it astonishes me how humanity has remained the dominant species for so long."

you swallow heavily. "yeah?" you say weakly.

"yes," he says, edges of his smile sharpening. "it truly makes me wonder if this reign will ever come to an end. what do they say—natural selection?" something bottoms out in the pit of your stomach.

you don't deign him with an answer. you only watch as he stands before you—metal and silicon and gears and electricity. towering above your smaller form like he's ready to bring this end himself.

#this version of sun is a bit. ehhh. well. he's got a bit of a robot superiority complex lol #in his human hater era. it's a phase. probably. he'll learn to love u tho dw <3 #dca x reader #dca x y/n #dca x self insert #fnaf dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendant x y/n #daycare attendant x self insert #sun x you #sun x reader #sun x y/n #sun x self insert #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #sundrop x reader #sundrop x y/n #shay scribbles daydreams #bleeding wires au

343 notes · View notes

yourmomsawh0r3 · 5 months ago

Text

Heated

Summary: tommy gets into a heated argument with his wife y/n. in result, y/n gives him the silent treatment. he wants her to forgive him? he must grovel. on his knees.

Tommy shelby x wife female reader

Tommy slammed the door behind him, the echo reverberating through the spacious halls of Arrow House. The tension was thick in the air, and his wife, Y/N, stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed and eyes blazing with anger.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Tommy demanded, his voice barely containing his frustration.

“Talk?” she snapped, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “All you ever do is talk, Tommy. And it’s always about you. Your business, your problems, your bloody empire.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “Everything I do, I do for us. For our family. You know that.”

“Do I?” Y/N shot back, her voice rising. “Because it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like we’re just pawns in your endless game.”

Tommy clenched his fists, trying to keep his temper in check. “That’s not fair, Y/N. You know the pressure I’m under. The enemies we have. I’m doing my best to protect us.”

Y/N laughed bitterly. “Protect us? By pushing everyone away? By turning our home into a fortress? This isn’t a family, Tommy. It’s a prison.”

The words stung, more than Tommy cared to admit. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.

Y/N didn’t answer. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, a mixture of anger and desperation swirling inside him.

The silent treatment began immediately. Y/N went about her days, caring for their children, managing the household, but never once did she acknowledge Tommy’s presence. She moved like a ghost, her silence a constant reminder of their unresolved conflict.

At first, Tommy tried to give her space, hoping she would cool down and they could talk things out. But as the days turned into a week, his patience wore thin. He attempted everything he could think of to get her attention. Apologies, flowers, even jewelry—none of it made a difference. Y/N accepted his offerings with a blank expression, placing them aside without a word.

One night, Tommy found himself sitting alone in the parlor, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The silence was deafening, driving him to the edge of his sanity. He couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up abruptly and marched upstairs to their bedroom, where Y/N was getting ready for bed.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice rough with frustration. “This has to stop. I can’t stand this silence. Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

She glanced at him through the mirror, her expression unreadable. “What I want, Tommy, is for you to understand. To really understand what it means to be a husband and a father. Not just a leader.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I’m trying, Y/N. I really am. But you shutting me out like this—it’s killing me.”

For a moment, Y/N’s eyes softened, but she quickly looked away. “You need to show me, Tommy. Words aren’t enough. I need to see that you’re willing to change, to put us first.”

Tommy sighed, feeling the weight of her words. He approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I will, Y/N. I promise you, I’ll make it right.”

She finally looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and skepticism. “Actions, Tommy. Not promises.”

With that, she climbed into bed, turning her back to him. Tommy stood there for a moment, watching her, a newfound determination settling in his chest. He realized that if he wanted to win her back, he would have to do more than just speak. He would have to change, to prove that their family meant more to him than any empire.

As he left the room, he vowed to himself that he would earn her trust again, not with grand gestures or empty words, but with genuine actions. And this time, he would make sure Y/N knew she was the most important part of his life.

Tommy Shelby stood in the dimly lit hallway, his mind racing with ideas on how to break through the wall of silence that had come between him and Y/N. He needed to show her that she was the center of his world, more important than any business deal or gang rivalry. As the thought solidified in his mind, a plan began to take shape.

The next day, Tommy put his plan into action. He made a few discreet phone calls, ensuring that everything would be perfect. By late afternoon, he had transformed a secluded spot in their expansive garden into a romantic picnic setting. A soft blanket was spread out under a large oak tree, adorned with pillows for comfort. Lanterns hung from the branches, casting a warm, inviting glow as the sun began to set.

Tommy had spent the day in the kitchen, a rare sight indeed, preparing all of Y/N’s favorite foods. There was a selection of fresh bread, cheeses, and fruits, along with her preferred wine. He even managed to bake a chocolate cake, her favorite dessert.

As evening fell, Tommy found Y/N in the sitting room, reading a book. He approached her quietly, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding out his hand. “I’ve prepared something for you. Will you come with me?”

She looked up from her book, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. After a moment, she placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her outside. As they approached the picnic setup, Y/N’s expression softened, a flicker of surprise and appreciation in her eyes.

“Tommy, this is…” she began, her voice trailing off as she took in the scene.

“I wanted to show you how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice sincere. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right.”

They sat down on the blanket, and Tommy served her the food he had prepared. They ate in comfortable silence at first, the tension gradually easing as the evening progressed. As the stars began to twinkle above them, Tommy poured them each a glass of wine.

“This is lovely, Tommy,” Y/N said softly, her earlier anger seeming to melt away.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied, reaching out to take her hand. “I wanted tonight to be special. For us.”

After they finished their meal, Tommy led Y/N back to the house, where he had one final surprise waiting. He guided her to the bathroom, where a hot bath was ready, the room filled with the soothing scent of lavender.

“I thought you might like to relax,” he said, his voice low and tender.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Thank you, Tommy. This means a lot to me.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

As she settled into the bath, Tommy waited patiently, giving her the space she needed. After a while, Y/N called out to him, and he entered the bathroom once more.

“Join me,” she whispered, her voice husky.

Tommy’s heart raced as he quickly undressed and slipped into the warm water behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The feel of her body against his, the scent of lavender filling the air, it was intoxicating.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Their lips met in a slow, passionate kiss, a spark igniting between them. Tommy’s hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer.

As the water sloshed around them, their kisses grew more fervent, their need for each other undeniable. Tommy’s hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them gently, eliciting soft moans from Y/N. He moved lower, his fingers teasing her, drawing out gasps of pleasure.

“Tommy,” she breathed, her voice a mix of longing and urgency.

He shifted, positioning himself between her legs, their bodies aligning perfectly. With a deep, shared breath, he entered her slowly, savoring the sensation. They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, the heat and intensity building with each thrust.

The bathroom echoed with their shared moans and the sound of water splashing, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and love. Tommy’s lips never left her skin, trailing kisses along her neck, her shoulders, whispering words of love and devotion.

As they reached the peak of their pleasure, their cries mingled, a harmonious blend of ecstasy. Collapsing into each other’s arms, they remained in the warm water, their breaths heavy, hearts pounding.

Tommy gently stroked Y/N’s hair, his lips brushing against her ear. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world.”

She turned to face him, her eyes filled with love and a promise of forgiveness. “I love you too, Tommy. And I believe you. Let’s work on this together.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the bath and the glow of their rekindled love, Tommy knew they had turned a corner. They would face the future together, stronger than ever.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommyshelby x female reader #tommy shelby x female reader #tommy shelby imagine

264 notes · View notes

lksvi · 1 year ago

Text

solar flares & soft lips

𝆹⭒ re4r!leon kennedy x gn!reader

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ synopsis — teaching leon how to apply skincare before he leaves for a mission is a domestic setting you both need. when he comes home, he finds he missed it more than he thought.

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ content — fluff, i wrote this very very sleep deprived, post and pre re4r, no uses of [name], tried a different writing style i think, this is just really soft, leon is a rich man

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ word count — 1.4k

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ note — i love leon kennedy so much :( literally so so in love with him. this was so soft i love it

𝆹⭒ masterlist

When Leon first saw you doing your skincare routine, he found it unneccessary. Luxuries, even ones as simple as skincare items, were scarce in his house. Despite him owning a mansion, the inside was bare. It only looked decorated from the outside— A husk.

Leon was on the move most of the time. Settling down was an odd feeling. Adrenaline pricking his skin, waiting for the next time he'd have to move. Especially on missions. He's accustomed to carrying around only what was necessary. He discarded what wasn't, leaving him with few items.

This translated over into his personal life, too. He keeps only what he deems necessary, having very few items that are for his own enjoyment. Sometimes, he'll splurge on a new cologne or a jacket for himself, but it isn't often.

But he doesn't mind spoling you.

Leon has more than he knows what to do with. Anything he sees you looking at, he's not hesitating to buy it. A new skincare set had been a recent buy. He had bought you all new products after you told him yours were running low. You protested at first, but Leon is tenacious.

He sees how excited you are to use it, anyway. He thinks he's more excited to see you excited. Leon's always thought you were cute whenever you show off the new items he bought you. A ghost of a smile curls on his lips as he nods, soaking in every word. Listening to you talk is something he could do all day, every day.

What he doesn't expect is for you to ask to try the new skincare products out on him. He's taken aback, a furrow in his eyebrows. Nude-colored lips part, eyes narrow. "Me?" He asks, as if he didn't hear you right. A roll of your eyes accompanies a brush of blond hair out of his eyes. "Yes, you, silly." You grin up at him.

Leon shakes his head, a huff of a laugh escaping him. "Why not on yourself?" He asks. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout, one that he isn't immune to. "I want to see how well they'd work on your skin," You answer. A narrow of your eyes at his smooth flesh has the corner of his lip twitching up in a smile. "Even if it is perfect."

He huffs out another laugh. Perfect skin had always come natural Leon, much to your chagrin. "Alright," He agrees. As if he was ever going to disagree. Your exclamation of a cheer has him rolling his eyes in affection.

You guide him to sit on the edge of the bathtub, pulling out a headband. He quirks a brow, looks between it and you, and sighs. Rejection doesn't come as you thought it would. Slipping the headband over his neck, you tug it to pull his hair back. The sight causes a giggle to spill from your lips. Colbat eyes shoot you a playful glare.

"Is this necessary?" Leon asks, glancing up at the headband and then back towards you. You roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips, and nod your head. "Of course it is, Leon," You answer, attempting to keep a serious tone. Your poor attempt at stifling a giggle doesn't go unnoticed by Leon. "Don't wanna get any product in your hair, right?"

He grunts, the only answer you get, before you're opening the moisturizer. You dollop small dots onto his cheeks, his chin, the edge of his nose, and then his forehead. You rub it into his skin, making sure to be gentle. You know Leon could handle rough touches, but you don't want to hurt him. Even if he can take it.

Leon can't deny how calm this feels. The gentle domesticity of it all, of you putting moisturizer on him; the moisturizer he bought you. He leans into your touch, chasing it when you pull away. He stays still, doesn't speak. Instead, he observes.

You've always been gentle. He thinks it's a trait you were born with. Leon can't imagine you as anything but gentle. Even when you're teasing him, playful banter you two shoot back and forth, you're gentle. You never say anything that would set him off. You're careful with what you say, avoiding words you know will upset him.

Born and raised as careful, delicate.

You're the polar opposite of Leon.

He was not brought up delicate. Rough enviorments have been normal to him since childhood. In fact, if his enviorment isn't rocky in some way, he's skeptical. It's one of the reasons he was hesitant to go further with you in your relationship. Scared that it'd be rocky like everything else in his life.

Like you'd leave him as everyone else has.

He's taken out of his thoughts at a cold serum on his face. It drips down his cheek, pursuit cut short as you wipe it with your thumb. You massage the serum into his face, smooth skin easy to maneuver under your hands. A gentle sigh leaves Leon's lips. When you pull away, he's in an almost daze.

"I could get used to this," He muttered. The confession has a grin curling on your lips, a mischevious twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, yeah?" You ask. His slight nod is all the confirmation you need, pressing a thumb against his jaw, gentle. "If you were home more often, we could be doing this every day."

You knew he was busy, though. You didn't know the true nature of his job, much less what he did while he was away. Leon was only allowed to tell you so much. But you took it in stride. Missing Leon had become a feeling you'd grown accustomed to. An ache in your heart soothed by the sight of Leon at your front porch.

Before he left, you were always trying to spend as much time with him as you could. Cleaning with him, cooking, washing the dishes. Any task to get you a little extra time. Each morning before his departure, you cuddle in his arms, get yourself as close as you can. You try to remember his heart beat, the pattern of his breathing, the river of veins flowing along his skin.

The last time he left, you had bought him a gift of your own. Mini travel-sized bottles of your skin-care, all fitting in a small bag. "Something to remember me by," You said, smile on your lips. Leon, ever so grateful, smiled. His thumb brushed across your knuckles.

"How could I forget you?"

You didn't expect Leon to continue the small routine without you. Being away for missions, ones he couldn't tell you about, gave you an idea that he had little to no free time. Still, he does try. He uses it late at night when he can't sleep. He knows it won't fall asleep, but he misses you, and this is the closest he can get for now.

He tries to mimic your fingers, calloused pads massaging his skin the way he remembers you doing it. His don't feel as good, though. Your hands are more gentle than his are, not rough from years of work experience. His hands have rough callouses, despite his use of gloves.

Still, you're happy to smell your products on his face when he gets home. Your small laugh is a welcomed reprieve from his thoughts of the mission. "You're wearing my skincare," You muse, eyes trailing over his skin. There was no difference, but the light smell was there, and the knowledge that he had used it.

"Of course I am," Leon replied, as if it was obvious. Intertwining a hand with yours, he brings it to his mouth. Faint stubble scratches against the back of your hand. The smile on his face is clear, and despite having seen it many times, you'll never get over it. He kisses each knuckles of yours, chapped lips pressed against the flesh. He's missed this. Missed you and your touch.

Spain was difficult. It had been long and treacherous, testing his commitment (as if there was anything to test) to his country. He can't tell you what happened, but none of it matters now. Not when he's holding you in his arms, faint smell of moisturizer linging on your cheek.

He'll never get tired of this. Coming home to you, holding you. Loving you.

If there's one thing Leon is more sure about than anything in his life, it's his heart that beats for you. His soul that has pieces of yours in the sound of your laugher and the feeling of your hands.

His heart beats to the rhythm of your laugher. Loving you is muscle memory. He doesn't think about it. He doesn't question it.

Leon Kennedy loves you, and he will love you for the rest of his life.

#𝆹⭒ vi writes!?#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil x y/n

1K notes · View notes

starlazergazer · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Not Too Late

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: Anakin gets a second chance to have true freedom and peace! Reader comes across Darth Vader for the first time after order 66 and attempts to pull Anakin back on the right path.

Warnings: None, some angst

Word count: 3k

A/N: Only in this one very instance can you fix him! I know the request asks for fluffy but I made this super angsty instead with some fighting banter between Anakin and the reader so I hope you like it because I loved writing it!

You’d heard the whispers, how could you not, though no one was ever brave enough to tell you them to your face. Not that you blamed them. That your best friend Anakin Skywalker could be the famous Darth Vader, Palpatine’s personal padawan, was so ludicrous, so ridiculous, you wouldn’t have let anyone utter the accusation in your presence leave unscathed.

And yet still a part of you knew.

The day it happened, the exact moment it happened, you could feel it. More than a disturbance in the force, more than a breaking of prophecy: a betrayal, a very personal very painful betrayal.

But still looking up at the man you had thought you once knew from your position chained on the floor you felt the last part of your hope die, unaware even that that hope had existed in the first place.

“I didn’t want to believe the rumors” you shook your head at him, eyes bouncing back and forth between those familiar but very different blue ones.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me” a smirk grew over his lips as he looked down at you. And somehow those words hurt worse than seeing him walk around with such authority through the empire’s army, more than seeing a new infamously red saber strapped to his hip.

“You’ve changed” you shook your head back up at him, feeling the lump grow in the base of your throat with each passing minute “You are not the Anakin I knew”

“I am exactly the Anakin you knew” he chuckled back at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat down calmly in the chair before you, causally crossing one leg over the other “Just finally lived up to my full potential”

And you didn’t know how to respond to that, to his complete acceptance, even beyond that his full belief that he was being aided by the dark side of the force, that it was somehow making him better, stronger. “What do you want?”

“Your base” he answered plainly, leaving forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees staring down at you “the rebel base, I want coordinates”

“What makes you think I have them?” You asked with a shrug, watching the smug smile slowly fade from his face.

“Don’t play dumb it was never a good look on you”

You felt your own anger spike within you as his did. He clearly didn’t know you that well if he thought you would give it up this easy. “What happened to being the chosen one?” You taunted him, turning to pressing his buttons on purpose, proving even if just to yourself that at least you knew him “you were supposed to-“

“-bring balance to the force yes I’ve heard it all before” and oh how you relished the anger in his tone, in the way the words hissed out through a clenched jaw, the way his eyes narrowed down at you ever so slightly, you’d always enjoyed messing with angry Anakin “answer the question”

“I’m just saying if you wanna talk about playing dumb, does turning to the dark side really seem like the best way to go about that?”

“Says the one chained to the floor” he pushed to his feet towering over you as he spoke “Now because of our past I’m giving you a chance here, a chance to answer to me instead of the emperor, do not mistake this kindness for weakness” and before you could respond he was turning around and walking back through the door, but you weren’t done. You couldn’t let him leave it like that, couldn’t let him bring up your past friendship like it was nothing more than a bargaining chip to be cashed in later.

“You know I thought we had lost you with order 66” You called out after him “I mourned your death” you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shame over the way your voice shook, overwhelming amounts of anger and betrayal trumping any and all other emotions within you.

He didn’t even look back as he spoke in a disturbingly monotone voice “Anakin Skywalker is dead. I am what remains”

You shook your head at his response though he couldn’t see it, hating him for the way he tried to hide from what he has done, shelter who he once was from the man he has become.

A bitter laugh escaped you “No, you don’t get to distance yourself from your own actions, you don’t get to protect that jedi you once were by calling yourself a different name.”

His body went rigid at your words, the surprise from your outburst evident in his reaction, it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that you were the first person to ever call him out on it.

“Anakin Skywalker was my friend” you pushed on, spitting the words at his feet “and you tarnish his memory with every action done in the name of the empire"

Anakin spun around on his heel at your words, a dangerous smirk on his face before he knelt down squatting before you, an all too familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye “You know I always liked the way you spoke your mind no matter what” A taunt in his tone, a look that dared you to step out of line “You never really knew when to shut up did you? I suggest you learn”

“You forget that I know you” you taunted back, leaning in even closer to him, showing him he wasn’t scaring you by forcing proximity “you can’t hide behind your charms from me Skywalker”

Still the smug smirk didn’t drop from his face, his eyes taking a second to bounce between yours before locking on a piece of hair that fell in front of your face. Slowly his hand reached out, effortlessly tucking it back behind your ear like he had done a thousand times before. And suddenly you were back beneath the stars with him, talking about the future, upcoming missions, battle strategies, just about anything you could think of to keep him out there with you.

His hand struck with practiced efficiency, reaching out to grab your chin before you could even comprehend its movement, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he held your gaze on his “You will tell me where the rebel base is or I will take you to see emperor Palpatine, and trust me neither of us wants that to happen”

And even though the mere gesture of pulling your hair behind your ear had sent your heart racing and your mind reeling you forced your eyes to lock onto his, pushing down any feelings of familiarity, telling yourself exactly what he had just told you moments ago Anakin Skywalker is dead, he is what remains

“What’s the magic word?”

He cracked a smile at that, still holding you in place for a few seconds longer, giving you one last opportunity to answer before finally dropping your face, muttering a soft “so be it” before standing back up and heading for the door.

It had been easy to escape your bindings, too easy honestly, to the point that a small part of you wondered if you had been meant to escape them in the first place, if this was what your past with Anakin was worth to him, a chance and a poorly hidden saber.

You broke for the nearest town as soon as you could, keeping low and your thin scarf pulled over your face knowing it was far too easy to stick out in the empty desert.

You didn’t make it that far.

“You really thought it would be that easy?” His voice taunted you from behind, your body sagging slightly as you heard it, you hadn’t even noticed his approach.

“Yeah honestly” you returned, spinning around to face him “planning was never your forte”

He chuckled softly at that, shaking his head, casting his eyes down to his feet as he rested a single hand on his saber on his hip, looking far too much like the Anakin you had once known long ago. “Tell me where the base is Y/N”

And even though it remained unsaid you could feel the threat in his voice, in the way he glared at you, in the way his hand on his saber twitched.

“Are you not going to ask me about him?” You knew now wasn’t the time for the question, knew it was dumb to press that particular button now, but you couldn’t stand letting Anakin cast him off like this, cast you off like this.

He faltered at your question, his shoulders dropping slightly, his hand slipping from his saber. “You’ve been in contact with him?”

“Of course I have” you sighed, “And Ahsoka, Rex” you let your sentence trail off, hang in the air, let him come to you and ask the question if he wanted to know.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Anakin waited, as you waited, only breaking when his voice spoke up, a shake in it you weren’t expecting “are they-“

And maybe it was the way his voice shook, the way his posture slumped, the way those all too familiar blue eyes were silently begging you, but you took pity on him, chancing a small step forward as you finished his sentence “they’re okay. Ahsoka even removed Rex’s chip, they’re all okay”

Another silence hung in the air, an almost imperceptible nod in Anakin’s head as he stared down at his feet, only looking up to chance a look at you when he finally spoke again, in a small defeated voice “just tell me where the base is Y/N, that’s all I need, then I can turn around and pretend I never saw you here”

You sighed at that, shaking your head softly “You know I can’t do that Ani”

He chuckled bitterly at that, going for his saber, igniting it, his face illuminating in red as he did so.

And instinctively your hand went to your own saber, ready to draw it and defend yourself, ready to be caught up in a sparing match with Anakin just as you had so many times before, but no, you had to remind yourself, it wouldn’t be just sparing this time around, not anymore.

You unclipped it from your belt, taking a moment to feel its weight in your hand, before tossing it to the side, watching the sand around it kick up as it landed a few feet away from you. “I won’t fight you”

Anakin shook his head, his eyes snapping to your saber on the ground next to you, a bitter laugh that didn’t full materialize on his lips “I’m not falling for that”

“Its not a trick” you shrugged, opening your hands before you, “I won’t fight you”

“Pick up your saber Y/N” he yelled at you, still holding his own before him, still poised to strike but holding back, waiting “I will not tell you again”

You watched him with a small shake of your head “Ani I can’t fight you”

And for a second you just watched his chest rise and fall quickly as a war raged in his mind, as he debated his next steps, before a frustrated yell ripped through the air and he was charging at you, and you couldn’t help yourself, you closed your eyes, a breath catching in your chest as you waited for the inevitable, and kept on waiting.

A tentative eye opened to see a bright flash of red, hovering just above your shoulder, just waiting there. Your gaze followed it up to Anakin only to see he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his saber. And you could tell from the look in his eyes, from the way his grip kept changing, from the rapid fall and rise of his chest, that he was trying to talk himself into it.

Then a sigh and the blade was retracted, Anakin refusing to meet your gaze as he stepped back “get out of here Y/N”

And immediately you took a step back, your body begging you to run, to put this place and Anakin as far behind you as possible. But still you couldn’t.

“Come with me”

His gaze snapped up to yours in surprise, his eyebrows crunched together in confusion “I can’t” it came out as more a question.

“You can” you tried to encourage him, taking a tentative step towards him “You can come with me now and we can figure the rest of it out”

“I work for the empire” he spoke softly, “the empire isn’t what you think it is, they’re doing good, I’m doing good”

You sighed with a shake of your head, still inching forward, still holding out hope “You, you became the very thing you sought to destroy. Turning your back on everything you once stood for”

“Did I?” he challenged you calmly, repeating thoughts you knew he’d already gone through a thousand times before “or am I still upholding my same beliefs. I vowed to serve the republic and I still do, no matter what name it goes by now”

“You vowed to serve the people of the republic” you corrected “and now under the empires rule those people suffer”

“under the empire’s rule they are safe” he countered “From the time we were children we were told we were meant to be peacekeepers and that is exactly what I am doing now”

“You call this peace?” You couldn’t help but chuckle “How many die each day because of the empire’s tyranny”

“Because of the resistances rebellion” he countered but there was no malice in it, not the same angry argument as before but rather a debate.

“Look at them Anakin” you gestured to the town just before you, at the people begging for scraps outside of the bar, at the buildings crumbling from lack of maintenance “this is the effect the empire has on people”

Anakin shook his head at the sight before him, his eyes casting back down to the sand too quickly.

“Look at them” you repeated, putting more force into your words, practically begging him “Look at what the empire has done to this town, what you have done.”

“The empire stopped the war” Anakin’s gaze suddenly snapped back up to yours, a new defensiveness in his tone you weren’t used to hearing from him “these people are at peace, they do not fear for their lives anymore and that is what the empire has done”

“These people are starving” you objected, trying to keep your voice light but firm “they no longer fear death at the hands of intergalactic war but rather storm troopers on a power trip, bounty hunters, vagrants. They are far from safe”

“And what would you have me do now?” He demanded, exasperation in his tone “I stopped a war, I gave everything to stop a war”

“And now?” you questioned him “you did it, you stopped the war, why are you with them now?”

Anakin didn’t respond to that, his mind churning as his eyes bounced back and forth between yours, not saying a word as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

It all seemed to click for you then, where his hesitation was coming from, his stubbornness, his need to believe he was right, had been right all along “It’s not too late for you you know”

Anakin froze on the spot, eyes jumping up to meet yours, desperately willing for you to continue.

“You made a few mistakes, took some missteps but you can still do good”

“I’ve made a lot more than a few mistakes” his tone was soft and dejected.

“That’s okay” you tried to assure him with a shake of your head “You can still do good”

He shook his head in response, eyes finally lifting from you to scan the town around you “that’s not who I’m meant to be, that is not my destiny”

“Screw destiny” you countered quickly “it wasn’t long ago your destiny was to bring balance to the force and now the jedi order no longer exists. There is no more destiny there is just the choices you make here and now”

“I can’t” he objected weakly with a shake of his head “I can’t just leave��

“you can” you countered but saw as he refused to listen to you, taking steps back, so you forward, without a second thought wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering the words into his ear “Ani you can”

And you felt him go rigid under your touch, refuse to give in, but not quite pushing you off.

“Let go what you have done in the past” you tried to urge him “focus on what you can do now. And right now you can help them. You can help me”

And slowly you felt his arms come up, first placed awkwardly on your back, giving you a chance to take it all back, before slowly wrapping completely around you, pulling you deeper into him, a shaky breath escaping him as he did so, as he buried his face in your hair “I don’t know how it all went so wrong”

“I know Ani I know” you assured him softly, rubbing a hand up and down his back “but now we can work to make it better”

“We?” You heard the hope in his voice and couldn’t help but chuckle, chuckle and fight to keep the tears at bay.

Pulling back from him softly, noting the way his arms seemed reluctant to let you go completely, just enough that you could look into his eyes. “You and me, we’ll make it right”

#anakin x reader #Anakin Skywalker #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fic #anakin imagine #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x reader

1K notes · View notes

writtenbyjeanofarc · 7 months ago

Text

・┆✦ 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄 ✦┆・

Yandere! Blade X Reader | 1.4k

Author’s Note: Something new to practice my writing. Please don’t mind the cringe, I’m just trying to write for the sake of making it clear that I’m still active.

Warnings: mild possessive behavior.

A loud, thundering bang akin to an explosion echoed throughout the entirety of Xianzhou Loufu, its harmful impact colliding with your figure before you could even dodge the attack. All it took was one hit that instantly brought you to your knees, your limbs desensitized from external sources of throbbing pain. Blade was never one to give his opponents a chance to run, and your petite stature wasn’t one of his reasons to spare you mercy. Your eyes darted onto what appeared to be blood oozing from your hands, as if you were close to admitting defeat. Trembling past your fallen state, your eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to protest against Blade’s antics.

“You just don’t understand how it feels, do you?” you called out. “Out of millions of worthy enemies, you dared challenge me?”

Thankfully, you could still speak amidst your frail body struggling past the paralysis you were experiencing. Blade didn’t give you much time to recover, instead, he sneered against your ways of protest.

“I’m left with no other choice. You know the consequences of resisting further. I’ve requested that the Stellaron bring you to me peacefully without a fight breaking out. But since you refuse every time, I’m left with no other choice but to challenge you into a duel. And it turns out that you lost. So give it up.”

Blade’s steps grew more audible as they paced themselves menacingly towards your body, limp and weak on the ground. You couldn’t get up, it’d be against the rules of nature if you were ever able to get up. Bending over to bring himself towards you, you felt his hand wrap around your throat in an intensity he liked.

Blade let out a smirk, squeezing the sides gently while you looked up at him with a merciful expression.

“Don’t disappoint me.” he sneered. “After all, I never asked you to leave my side.”

You weren’t obliged to reply, only leading you to spit back at him as he chuckled condescendingly. You expected Blade to feel turned off by your antics, only for his vision to narrow as he eyed you from head to toe.

“A little feisty, are we?” Blade mocked. “Hah. This is what you get for running around in circles and resisting the Stellaron’s demands.”

“You’ll never own me,” you snapped. “I don’t care about how many duels I have to lose just to break free from seeing you. But reading the letter made me realize you only want me to ease your suffering. Which I refuse to do.”

“I don’t recall you winning a duel against the Stellaron Hunters.” Blade chuckled. “Like I said, I’ll always be haunting you provided your refusal to give in to my desires.”

“….And what desires do you have in mind for me?” you asked.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Blade replied, grinning at your prideful stare that gave off a false sense of innocence. “After all, I don’t want to wait any longer. You’re coming with me.”

“Wh—“

With that, you winced in discomfort as Blade’s strength supported your weight. His arms gripping your waist and back, he picked you up just like that, without any ounce of effort whatsoever. Next thing you know, you were being lifted up like a baby bridal style, leaving you intimately exposed to his musky scent.

“Put me down, you freak!” you exclaimed.

“From now on, our relationship is going to change.” Blade said as he walked away with your body in his arms, amused at your refusal to admit defeat. “You’ll tell me everything about how your day went, from where you came from, and what you really want. You won’t hold back. You’re going to be in my property, and whoever gets in our way gets an answer from my sword. Do you understand?”

“Where do you think you’re going? Put me the fuck down! What I want is to be free from Stellaron Hunters like you!!!”

“I’m afraid that will pass on my watch. You’ll never leave me. I made up my mind that I shall keep you in my arms for as long as the Aeons allow us to be together. So don’t resist, [Name].”

“Where are we going?!” you asked.

“To a place far away that even the Astral Express won’t bother landing their eyes on you.”

“N-no!!! You can’t just take me away and do as you please!!!”

“And what if I can?”

“The Astral Express will find me no matter what. They’ll hunt you down, they’ll—“

“…Cower in defeat. That’s all they can do.” Blade interjected. “[Name], I’ve told you this a thousand times already. There’s not much you can do in that faction. I’ll always be there, watching you desperately before I can even have the time to play with you.”

“No, I won’t allow it! I’m not yours, and you’ll never beat the Astral Express on your own! This, I’m sure of it. Dan Heng will find you, and he’ll take his sweet time beating you at your own game.” you protested.

“And what if I said you’re mine?” Blade chuckled. “No matter what, I’ll always do everything it takes to win my battles fair and square. You’ll be there with me until death takes us, wouldn’t you, my dear?”

“You’ll never push me.” you said as you gritted your teeth. “Now put me down or I’ll have to do it myself.”

“Go ahead. Show me how weak you can be without my supervision. You’ll never survive the wrath of those enemies about to face you in the next life.”

“Fuck you.” you spat.

“You know, regardless of how ill you speak of me, none of that will change my mind. You’re going to be mine……and I’m going to take my sweet time claiming you as my property. So ease yourself up, can you? We’re on our way back home.”

Despite your attempts to escape, Blade tightened his grip so as to not make you fall by accident. You eventually gave in — not as a sign of admitting defeat, but because his strength was immeasurable to the point of overpowering yours.

“There’s no point in trying to escape, [Name].” Blade announced. “Give in to it. You’ll get so used to my company that you’ll wish you never met the Astral Express.”

“You’ll never win my trust.” you replied.

“Keep believing in that, we’ll see. I don’t mind not having you trust me completely this time, but let me tell you this. You’re not leaving anytime soon. Everything you do will be inspected further by the Stellaron, and you shall accept us as your new family….everything you once had with the Astral Express…..is now torn to pieces.”

Silence filled the air as the both of you ended up in his place. Not being able to say a single word, you carefully plotted your escape by knowing where to go the next time Blade left. You just had to muster every ounce of courage needed to break free, and staying oblivious to his household’s locks and locations was the last thing you wanted.

“From now on, you’re going to stay rightfully where you belong.” Blade commanded, finally putting you down after locking the doors. “If you need any further assistance, just call out my name.”

“Pfffft.” you scoffed.

“And don’t forget…..” Blade added, approaching you bluntly with a sharp frown. “You’re not leaving this place. Everything I say goes. You won’t complain. You won’t push me.”

“You’re fucked up.” you hissed.

“I’m not fucked up, I just know what I want. And I want you…..Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking the Astral Express down as instructed.”

“No, anything but—!!!!”

Blade hissed back, instantly pouncing towards you and wrapping his hand around your throat. Your ability to speak was hindered with his heavy breath.

“You won’t try me now, will you, [Name]? Dan Heng has imposed a serious threat against my every move. If I find out about his existence roaming around this place, he will only know death. And you’ll never interfere. You’ll never protest. Because after all, I don’t recall allowing you to leave.”

Your gulps and struggles were heard in response to Blade’s sudden hostility towards you, his anger and inhibited desire evident in those eyes. Leaning closer towards you, he opened his mouth to speak before your ear.

“You know you want this. I can give you more pleasure than you can bear, something far better than that pathetic excuse of a man. Dan Heng and March 7th will never stand a chance against my undying passion to have you around me. And you’ll never falter under my command, will you? Well, it’s not like you have any other choice. You’re all mine now, after all.”

#x reader #yandere x reader #blade x you #blade x reader #hsr blade #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere x darling #yandere prompts #blade honkai #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #warm up #writing practice

182 notes · View notes

starswritewhispers · 7 months ago

Text

Nalu Writing Practice-Bets & Loops

I'm so out of practice with writing, please let me know what y'all think

Lucy rubbed at her temples, her eyes squeezing shut as if that could drown out the sound of arguing next to her. She just wanted to read her book and instead she had a front row seat to a soap opera.

"You let him call you Ever?” Bickslow’s incredulous voice demanded, ruining her fifth attempt to read the same line. “Honestly, just because the idea of romance is lost on you does no–” “I am very romantic–stop laughing, Fried–” “See, even Fried,--”

“I’d like to stay out of this,” The green haired mage piped up, wincing when both of his friends whirled towards him instead.

Lucy had changed her usual seat in hopes of a more peaceful spot to read, and usually, this area would’ve been fine. Of course, Evergreen had decided to tell Laxus that her date with Elfman had gone well, which led to Bickslow spitting his drink out and the following argument. “It’s not like I’m Natsu or some shit,” Bickslow argued and Lucy blinked, slowly tuning into their argument again. “Careful,” Laxus drawled, eyes flickering over to Lucy’s as he smirked. “Blondie’s right there,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She demanded, sliding her bookmark into place before snapping the book shut. “Talking about Natsu’s romantic failures, white right in front of his biggest–only–failure, isn’t wise or kind,” Fried supplied in a tone that she supposed was meant to be helpful. She distantly heard the sound of chairs scooting over but was distracted by her own heartbeat in her ears and the warmth rising to her cheeks. “I–Natsu–me?” She spluttered, eyes widening to saucers. “See,” she overheard Bickslow grumble to Evergreen. “I’m not that–” “Hey!” “What he means,” Evergreen cut in, a smirk worming its way onto her face. “Natsu obviously is in love with you, everyone knows it, except you. And maybe him.” “We’re friends,” she answered with a roll of her eyes that was heavily counteracted with her deep blush. “He doesn’t feel that way about me and neither do–” Her weak rebuttal was canceled out by a loud whoop, followed by a crash and– “Gray did it!”

“Natsu did it!” Lucy groaned, sliding her book into her bag and accepting defeat as she stood up. “You know,” Evergreen began, something similar to mischief flickering in her eyes. “If you really don’t like him, why don’t you try dating around? I have some friends I could set you up with,” she offered, her tone far too sweet for her. “Just check with him first, make sure there’s no set jobs or anything.” Lucy narrowed her eyes, sensing a trap but unsure of where it was. She huffed, turning on her heel. “Fine,” she succeeded with a shake of her head. “Just so you all–” She gave a pointed look to the rest of her friends who were listening in, “Leave it alone.” She started to walk off towards Natsu and Gray, or rather, the tumbling mess of limbs that was Natsu and Gray when she was cut off by Levy.

“Are you actually going to tell him?” Her best friend asked, cocking her head. Lucy sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I might as well,” she admitted, looking down at the bluenette. “It’ll get the guild off my back and stop giving me–” She cut herself off, checking to make sure nobody else heard her near admission. Luckily, only Levy smiled at her with a knowing, sad, look in her eyes. “I think you should just ask him,” she suggested with a bright smile. “He may surprise you and jealous dragons are never the best thing to deal with, trust–” “Levy, I love you and appreciate your help but it’s just–” She frowned, shaking her head. “We’re just friends and he hates change, I don’t want to ruin that.” She offered a weak grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she shrugged. “Don’t worry about the jealousy, Natsu doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.” With that, she continued her trek over to Natsu and Gray, swallowing her unnecessary nerves. “Luce!” Natsu’s excited voice called otu to her over the noise, the pink hair boy bouncing up with a grin. “What are ya doing here? I thought you were finishing that dumb lovey-dovey book today?” Lucy frowned, crossing her arms. “It’s not dumb, it’s romantic,” she corrected with a sigh. “And I–” She cut herself off, grimacing at the memory. “Changed my mind,” she settled on with a shrug. He only grinned at her, glancing over to Gray with a laugh.

“Lucy goes on all these adventures with us in her real life then reads about make believe ones,” he shook his head, his mess of pnik spikes following the moment. “Your life is better than a book, Luce.” “Well,” Gray began, in a voice that usually was followed by Natsu’s fists, “Lucy’s books have charming princes and Lucy’s life has,” he glanced down at Natsu. “Temperamental dragons.” “My temperature is fine, ya lousy–” “Temperamental doesn’t mean your literal temperature, Natsu,” Lucy corrected him with a fond smile. “It means you’re–” She paused, deciding she didn’t want to be included in Erza’s wrath that day. “Nevermind.” “See,” He whirled over to Gray, a frown tugging on his lips once he realized the ice mage’s attention was elsewhere. “Why are you looking at Juvia like that? It’s weird.” Truly. Not a romantic bone to be found. “On the note of princes,” Lucy began, immediately regretting her decision when both of the men turned their gazes back onto her. Gray looked amused whilst Natsu just seemed an odd mix of confused and something else she couldn’t place. “Evergreen wants to set me up wirth one of her friends,” she started, eyes focusing on anywhere but them. “Do we have any set mission day—” “What?” Natsu demanded at the same time Gray burst into laughter. He was rewarded with a sharp elbow in the gut from the dragon slayer, but he only doubled over as he continued to laugh. “Shut up, Gray,” he hissed, turning back to Lucy. “You and Evergreen aren’t even friends,” He protested, eyes narrowing. “She doesn’t know the kind of guys you should be around.” Lucy bristled, her own temper rising to the surface. “Oh, and you do?” She demanded, crossing her arms. “Obviously,” he huffed out with a laugh.

A laugh.

She was going to kill him with his own scarf.

“I mean do you think any guy Evergreen picks for ya would know the books you read? Or how to make you hot cocoa, cause for some reason you want it just above lukewarm? Or the way ya wrinkle your nose when you lie, or–” For a moment, Lucy’s thought paused and even Gray stopped laughing as Natsu rambled on, seeming to get more frustrated with every passing second. “And–are you even listening to me, Lucy?” He demanded, hands on his hips in an oddly similar manner to her own usual annoyed posture. “I–” She paused, feeling a wave of courage surge up in her. “So if I shouldn’t go on a date with anyone, who should I be with then?” “Me,” Despite being the one who said it, Natsu looked as shocked as Lucy felt when the words fell from his lips. He recovered quickly, his trademark grin falling over his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Cause, yknow, we spend so much time together and I don’t want to deal with a new–” “Shut up,” Gray advised in a hiss, still seated next to them. “Do you–” Her eyes flicked down to Gray, narrowing slightly at the realization that he may know something she didn’t. She’d deal with that later. “Do you like me, Natsu?” Perhaps she should’ve waited for a moment when the entir guild hall wasn’t listening to them because his response would be held over her head for far longer than she ever needed. “Really, Luce?” He asked, an expression of bemusement on his features. “Gee, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, ya weirdo.” She was going to punch him. Or kick him. At this point, he had earned a kick. “Like isn’t the right word, I think–” he paused, and she noticed Gray giving him an almost encouraging nod. “I think I love you?” His words trailed off at the end of the sentence, sounding unsure, nervous, and so un Natsu like that she completely reconsidered kicking him. The kick could wait, what she wanted to do in that moment couldn’t. Lucy walked closer to him, ignoring the way her hands trembled as she clutched his scarf, then promptly used it to pull him into a kiss. She ignored the way the guild hall erupted into cheers and complaints of loss bets, focusing on Natsu’s hands sliding over her waist, both of their lips forming smiles against the others, the way they fit so perfectly. “Okay, okay, enough with the PDA,” Gray groaned and Lucy yelped, breaking away from Natsu. Her cheeks flared, promptly becoming far too aware of the guild hall. “Says the stripper,” “Yeah yeah, go take that energy out on–” “Finish that sentence, I dare you,” Natsu’s hand had somehow grabbed Lucy’s during their argument, lacing their fingers together. He turned back to face her, the bright grin on his face mirroring her own.

By the time the happy couple had gone home, the hall was still awake with murmurs of what had occurred. “You so cheated, Ever,” Elfman groaned, dropping his head in his hands. His girlfriend snorted, but still ran her fingers through his hair fondly as she glanced over at the rest of the thunder legion, currently going through their winnings.

They had bet on not only the month but the location of when the two would confess. “There were no rules against offering one of them an out,” she said with a faux innocent smile. “Just interfering with their own relationship.”

“Loopholes,” Cana grumbled bitterly with a swig of her beer. Or vodka. Hopefully, just beer. "At least it finally fucking happened.”

#fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fanfiction #i have no idea what i'm doing #i am trying so hard

148 notes · View notes

fr0stf4ll · 3 months ago

Text

Forge of Starlight - Part 14

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 6.5k

warning; smut :)))

notes; Hey everyone, we are getting close to the end of the story, I'm glad that you guys are enjoying it. I love reading your comments <33 So tbh this is my first time writing this kind for "hum hum" content... So I really hope that you will enjoy this chapter ;))

here is the link for part 13 or part 15

---

Azriel stepped into the Town House, his mind still spinning from the confrontation with you. The door closed quietly behind him, but the weight of the conversation lingered heavily on his shoulders. He had hoped for a different outcome, but now he was left wondering if he had made the worst mistake of his life.

As he made his way into the living room, Cassian was lounging on one of the sofas, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked up as Azriel entered, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“What are you doing here, Az?” Cassian asked, a teasing grin on his face. “Shouldn’t you be in the arms of your beloved blacksmith right now?”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression filled with regret. “I might have fucked up, Cass.”

Cassian’s grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he set his glass down. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Before Azriel could answer, Mor came striding into the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in the tension in the air. “What’s going on? Why do you look like someone just punched you in the gut, Az?”

Azriel hesitated for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice low and filled with guilt. “Y/N overheard me talking to Rhys. She knows we’re mates, and… I didn’t tell her. She’s angry—hurt, and I can’t blame her.”

Mor’s eyes widened in shock, and then, in a rare burst of emotion, she nearly screamed at him, “Azriel, are you serious? You didn’t tell her? How could you keep something like that from her?”

Azriel winced at the intensity of her reaction, but he knew she was right. He had messed up, and now he was paying the price for it.

Cassian, ever the voice of reason—or at least attempted reason—leaned forward, trying to keep the mood from completely spiraling. “Alright, let’s not lose our heads here. Az, it sounds like she just needs some time. It’s a lot to take in, and she’s been through so much already.”

Mor shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Time, sure. But what are you even still doing here, Azriel? You should be with her, apologizing, explaining—whatever it takes to make this right. You can’t just sit here and wallow in self-pity.”

Cassian nodded in agreement, though his tone was gentler. “She’s got a point, brother. You need to go back, talk to her again. Hell, get on your knees if you have to, but don’t just give up.”

Azriel looked between the two of them, torn between his own guilt and the advice of his friends. “I… I don’t know if she’ll even want to see me right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mor snapped, her voice firm. “You go back to her, and you don’t come back here until you’ve made things right. And Az, I mean it—you better not step foot in this house for the next few days. Focus on her.”

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, offering him a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve got this, Az. Just be honest with her, and give her the time she needs. She cares about you—don’t forget that.”

Azriel nodded slowly, the weight of his friends’ words sinking in. He had messed up, but he wasn’t about to give up on you. He couldn’t.

“Thanks, both of you,” he said quietly, his resolve strengthening. “I’m going back. I’ll make it right.”

“Good,” Mor said, her tone softening slightly. “Now go, and don’t come back until she’s forgiven you.”

With that, Azriel turned and headed for the door, his heart heavy but determined. He knew he had a lot to make up for, but he was willing to do whatever it took to win back your trust.

As he left the Town House, he couldn’t help but think of you—alone, hurting, and confused. He had made a mistake, but he wouldn’t let it be the end of what could be something truly special between you. He would find a way to make things right, no matter what it took.

Azriel’s heart pounded in his chest as he made his way back through the quiet streets of Velaris, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He had never felt so conflicted, so desperate to fix something that he wasn’t even sure could be mended. But he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going to give up on you. Not now, not ever.

The path to your apartment felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of what had transpired between you. When he finally reached your door, he paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. His mind raced with thoughts of what to say, how to explain, but in the end, he knew that words might not be enough. It was his actions that would have to speak for him now.

He raised his hand and knocked softly, his heart in his throat as he waited for you to answer. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, but then, finally, he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching the door.

His heart was pounding, a mix of regret and determination driving him as he looked into your eyes. The silence between you was heavy, but he knew he had to speak, to say what needed to be said.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you about the bond. I should have trusted you with the truth from the beginning. I was wrong to keep it from you, and I can’t express how much I regret that.”

You looked at him, your expression guarded but not closed off. He could see the hurt in your eyes, but also the glimmer of something else—something that gave him a shred of hope.

“Azriel,” you said, your voice calm but firm, “why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out by overhearing a conversation. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

He flinched at your words, the pain in your voice cutting deep. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his voice low. “I was afraid of overwhelming you, of losing you before we even had a chance. I didn’t want to put more pressure on you after everything you’ve been through. But I realize now that I was wrong. You deserved to know the truth.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze unwavering. “You should have trusted me to handle it, Azriel. You should have let me decide how to deal with it.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I should have. And I’m sorry that I didn’t. But I’m here now, and I want to make things right. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

There was a long pause as you looked at him, weighing his words. Finally, you stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Come inside, Azriel. We need to talk.”

Relief washed over him as he stepped through the doorway, his heart still pounding but with a renewed sense of purpose. You closed the door behind him, and he followed you into the living room, where the remnants of your evening lay scattered—a half-empty cup of tea, a blanket draped over the back of the couch.

You both sat down, the air between you still thick with unspoken words. Azriel watched you, waiting for you to speak first, wanting to hear what you had to say.

“I’m not going to lie,” you began, your voice steady, “I was really upset when I overheard you and Rhys. I felt… blindsided. But I also know that you didn’t keep it from me to hurt me. You were trying to protect me, even if it was the wrong way to do it.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “That’s exactly it. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I should have been honest with you from the start.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you considered your next words. “I don’t know what this bond means for us, Az. I don’t even know how I feel about it right now. But I do know that I care about you, and that I’m willing to figure this out—together.”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make this right. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

You looked at him, your expression softening slightly. “I believe you, Azriel. But this is going to take time. We need to rebuild the trust that was shaken tonight.”

He nodded, fully understanding the gravity of your words. “I’ll give you all the time you need. Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. But there was also a sense of resolution, a quiet understanding that while things weren’t perfect, they could be mended.

Finally, you broke the silence, a small, tentative smile playing on your lips. “Would you like some tea? It’s not much, but it’s something.”

Azriel smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Tea sounds perfect.”

You stood up and made your way to the kitchen, and Azriel followed, the distance between you feeling just a little bit smaller than it had moments before. As you prepared the tea, the normalcy of the moment brought a sense of calm to both of you.

When you returned to the living room with the tea, Azriel took the cup you offered and sat down beside you, the warmth of the cup a comforting weight in his hands.

Azriel sat on the couch, his heart still heavy with the weight of your earlier conversation. The tension between you had begun to ease, but there was still so much left unsaid, so much to work through. He watched you as you moved about the kitchen, your back turned to him as you prepared something else.

A few moments later, you returned to the living room, carrying a small plate with a slice of cake on it. You set it down on the table in front of him with a quiet smile.

“I, um, had planned to give you something to eat later,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “But since you came back so quickly, this is all I have for now.”

Azriel looked at the cake, then back at you, his heart swelling with emotion. The gesture, simple as it was, meant more to him than words could express. He could see the effort you were making, the tentative steps toward repairing what had been shaken between you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and careful. “Does this mean… does this mean that you accept the bond?”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, slowly, you nodded, your eyes softening as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

“I love you, Azriel,” you said quietly, your voice filled with sincerity. “I was hurt, yes, and I needed time to process everything. But the truth is, I’ve felt something between us for a while now. The bond… it’s just a name for what we already have. And yes, I accept it. I accept you.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest as your words washed over him. He had been so afraid that he had lost you, that his mistake had been too much to overcome, but here you were, telling him that you loved him, that you accepted the bond that tied you together.

Without thinking, he set the cup of tea aside and pulled you into his arms, holding you close as a wave of relief and love washed over him. You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you rested your head against his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

You smiled against him, the tension between you finally melting away as you allowed yourself to fully embrace what had always been there. The bond, the connection, the love—it was all real, and it was all yours.

Azriel pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “Thank you for giving me a second chance,” he said, his voice earnest. “I won’t let you down, Y/N. I promise.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “I know you won’t, Azriel. We’ll get through this together.”

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as he closed his eyes, savoring the closeness, the warmth of your presence. For the first time in what felt like days, he allowed himself to truly believe that everything would be alright.

After a few moments, you both pulled back, and Azriel’s gaze fell to the cake on the table. He chuckled softly, the sound full of warmth and affection.

“You know,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for a piece of cake.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and it filled the room with a sense of peace. “Well, enjoy it,” you replied with a grin. “It’s the least I could do after everything.”

Azriel picked up the fork and took a bite of the cake, savoring the sweet taste and the even sweeter feeling of being here with you, in this moment. When he looked back at you, his eyes were filled with love, the bond between you stronger than ever.

“You know, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice laced with affection, “I don’t need anything else. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You smiled, your heart full as you leaned in to kiss him, the bond between you humming with contentment. “You have me, Azriel. Now and always.”

Whatever control Azriel had been holding onto snapped. In a swift movement, he lifted you into his strong arms, holding you close. Your breasts pressed against his chest, and your legs instinctively wrapped tightly around his waist. The intensity in his gaze was like a fire that had been smoldering for too long, finally unleashed.

He kissed you with a fervor that made your heart race, his lips claiming yours as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was deep, demanding, and you met it with equal passion, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him even closer.

“Gods, Y/N,” Azriel murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”

“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “I want you too. So much.”

Azriel carried you effortlessly toward the bedroom, his wings flaring slightly behind him, adding to the sense of raw power that radiated from him. You could feel every muscle in his body as he held you, the strength and control that he usually kept so tightly in check now fully on display.

He pushed open the door with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and carried you inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a silvery hue over everything. The air was thick with tension, the bond between you humming with anticipation.

Azriel set you down on the edge of the bed, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he leaned in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment, every taste of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You shivered at his words, the possessiveness in his tone sending a thrill through you. “I’m yours, Azriel,” you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. “Always.”

His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips, and the softness of your thighs. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your core that only he could stoke. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Azriel lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples.

A gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, your back arching as you pressed yourself closer to him. Azriel’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned down, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone, and finally, to your breasts.

“You drive me wild,” he murmured, his voice husky as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak as his hand massaged the other. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his shirt. Without thinking, you tugged at the fabric, eager to feel his skin against yours. Azriel complied, pulling away just long enough to strip off his shirt before pressing his body against yours once more.

The feel of his bare chest against your skin was intoxicating, the heat of his body searing into you. You could feel the hard planes of his abdomen, the strength in his arms as he held you close, the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

Azriel’s mouth was on yours again, his kiss rougher this time, more desperate. His hands continued to explore your body, one slipping down to the waistband of your pants. He paused, his gaze meeting yours, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, your breath hitching in anticipation. “Please, Azriel,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I need you.”

Azriel wasted no time, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. He stood back for a moment, his eyes raking over your body, his expression filled with a mix of reverence and hunger.

“Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Before you could respond, Azriel was on you again, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your stomach, stopping just above the apex of your thighs. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin there, his breath warm against you.

Your heart raced, your body trembling with anticipation as his lips moved lower, teasing you with feather-light touches that had you aching for more. When his mouth finally found its mark, you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“Azriel,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “Please… don’t stop.”

He chuckled against you, the sound vibrating through your core. “I don’t plan to,” he murmured, his voice filled with wicked promise.

Azriel was relentless, his tongue and lips working you with a skill that left you breathless. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you to the edge and then pull you back, driving you wild with need. Your hips bucked against his mouth, but he held you firmly, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“You taste incredible,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “I could do this all night.”

The sensations built, spiraling higher and higher until you thought you might shatter from the intensity of it all. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Azriel slowed, his movements becoming more languid, more deliberate, drawing out your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips lingering on every inch of skin, until he was once again face to face with you. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “You’re everything to me.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you pulled him down for another kiss, your lips meeting his with a fierce intensity. The taste of yourself on his lips only fueled the fire inside you, your need for him growing stronger with each passing second.

Azriel’s hands were everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, your thighs—fanning the flames of your desire. You could feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing against your thigh, and the thought of what was to come sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

But even as the frenzy built between you, there was no rush, no hurry to reach the final act. This was about savoring the moment, about exploring each other’s bodies, about giving and taking pleasure in equal measure.

“Azriel,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he breathed, his voice filled with raw emotion. “More than anything.”

And with those words, you let yourself get lost in him—in the feel of his hands on your skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his ragged breathing. You let the bond between you hum with energy, fueling your desire, guiding your movements as you and Azriel gave yourselves over to the intensity of the moment.

Azriel’s breath was hot against your skin, his kisses trailing down your neck as he murmured words of love and desire. Your body was already buzzing with the pleasure he had given you, but a new kind of hunger was stirring within you—one that demanded to be fulfilled.

You pushed him back slightly, meeting his gaze with a look that made his eyes darken even more. Without a word, you flipped him onto his back, straddling his hips as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. Azriel’s hands gripped your thighs, his touch possessive as he groaned into your mouth.

But you had something else in mind.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your lips down his jaw, along the column of his throat, savoring the way his breath hitched with every touch. You continued your descent, your fingers tracing the hard planes of his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “What are you—”

You silenced him with a look, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you pressed a kiss to his sternum. “I want to make you feel good, Az,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “Let me take care of you.”

Azriel’s breath hitched again, his hands flexing on your thighs as he watched you with hooded eyes. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you cut him off, your tone firm but filled with affection. “Just relax.”

His eyes fluttered closed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths as you continued your journey down his body. You took your time, kissing and caressing every inch of skin, savoring the way he shivered under your touch.

When you finally reached the waistband of his pants, you glanced up at him, your heart pounding with anticipation. Azriel’s eyes were on you, his gaze intense and full of need. With a slow, deliberate movement, you tugged at his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

Azriel let out a low groan as he was freed from the fabric, his length hard and pulsing with need. Your eyes got bigger, seing that the rumors about wingspand were in fact accurate and wonder how that could fit in your mouth. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of him, your own desire flaring even hotter.

You wrapped your fingers around him, your touch firm but gentle as you stroked him slowly, watching his reaction. Azriel’s head fell back against the pillow, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he surrendered to your touch.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You’re going to drive me mad.”

“That’s the idea,” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his length, earning a sharp intake of breath from him.

You didn’t waste any more time, your mouth closing around him as you took him in slowly, savoring the way he filled you. Azriel’s hips bucked slightly, a low curse falling from his lips as he tangled his fingers in your hair, his grip tight but not forceful.

You set a steady rhythm, your tongue teasing the sensitive underside of his length as you moved up and down, your hand working in tandem with your mouth. Every moan, every shiver that you drew from him only fueled your own desire, making you want to please him even more.

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, his voice rough with pleasure. “Y/N, that feels—gods, you’re incredible.”

His praise spurred you on, and you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, reveling in the way he responded to you. Azriel’s breaths were coming faster now, his control slipping as you continued to work him with your mouth and hand.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice raw with need. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes locking with his as you pulled back slightly, your tongue flicking over the tip of his length in a way that made him shudder. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Azriel’s grip on your hair tightened, his gaze burning with desire as he watched you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You smiled wickedly, your mouth and hand continuing their relentless assault on him. You could feel him starting to lose control, his hips bucking up into your mouth, his breathing ragged and desperate.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “I’m close—so close.”

You didn’t let up, your pace quickening as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Azriel’s entire body tensed, his muscles flexing beneath your touch as he teetered on the brink of release.

And then, with a low, guttural moan, he came undone, his release spilling into your mouth as he shuddered beneath you. You took it all, swallowing him down, your hand and mouth working to prolong his pleasure until he was a trembling mess.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, your lips curled into a satisfied smile. Azriel was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with lingering desire as he gazed at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That was… incredible.”

You crawled back up his body, pressing a kiss to his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you murmured, your tone teasing.

Azriel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m not done with you yet,” he promised, his voice low and full of intent.

You shivered at the promise in his words, your own desire flaring up again at the thought of what was to come.

The night was far from over, and with the bond between you humming with energy, you knew that this was only the beginning of a night you would never forget.

Azriel’s eyes were still dark with desire as he looked at you, his chest rising and falling with the remnants of his release. But the hunger in his gaze told you that he wasn’t satisfied—not yet. The bond between you hummed with energy, pulling you closer, urging you to take this final step.

He rolled you onto your back with a swift movement, his body hovering over yours, his wings spread wide, casting shadows across the room. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, searing into your skin.

Azriel kissed you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a ferocity that took your breath away. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you with a mix of reverence and need. The feel of his roughened fingers against your soft skin sent shivers of anticipation down your spine.

“I need you, Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I need all of you.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you nodded, your voice trembling with want. “Then take me, Az. I’m yours.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest at your words, and he moved lower, kissing and nipping at your skin as he positioned himself between your thighs. The heat of his arousal pressed against you, and you felt a thrill of anticipation course through you.

He paused, his gaze locking with yours as he gently caressed your face, his touch filled with love and tenderness. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with an undercurrent of urgency. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart swelled at his concern, and you cupped his face in your hands, pulling him down for a slow, languid kiss. “I’m sure, Azriel. I want this—I want you.”

With a nod, Azriel positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he began to push inside, the sensation of him stretching you inch by inch causing your breath to catch in your throat. He was big, and the way he filled you, inch by inch, made your toes curl in anticipation and pleasure.

“Gods,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he continued to press into you, the fullness of him overwhelming but intoxicating. “Azriel…”

He groaned as he sank deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he buried himself fully inside you. The stretch, the way he filled every part of you, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You gasped, your fingers clutching at his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as you urged him to move.

Azriel began to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, as if he was savoring every moment, every sensation. The rhythm he set was steady, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You met his thrusts, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the bond between you humming with energy.

“Gods, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re so tight… so perfect.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you reached up, your hands trailing along the powerful muscles of his back until you found the base of his wings. The moment your fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there, Azriel shuddered, his thrusts faltering for a moment as a low, guttural moan escaped his lips.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice raw with need. “Touch me… right there.”

You did as he asked, your fingers tracing the edges of his wings, marveling at the way they trembled under your touch. The reaction was immediate—Azriel’s thrusts became faster, more desperate, as if your touch had ignited something primal inside him.

The connection between you sparked with an intensity that made your head spin. The pleasure built, spiraling higher and higher until you thought you might lose yourself in the sensation.

Azriel’s thrusts became more powerful, his hips driving into you with a force that left you breathless. The bed creaked beneath you, but you barely noticed, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you.

You could feel the tension coiling in your lower abdomen, ready to snap at any moment. Your hands continued to caress his wings, your touch sending jolts of pleasure through him that matched the waves of ecstasy coursing through your own body.

“Azriel,” you moaned, your voice breathy with need. “I’m close… so close.”

“Me too,” he panted, his voice strained with the effort to hold himself back. “Gods, Y/N, you’re incredible.”

With one final, powerful thrust, the world around you shattered. Your climax crashed over you, your body tensing and then releasing all at once as you cried out his name. The sensation was so intense, so all-consuming, that you felt like you were floating, the bond between you and Azriel pulsing with shared pleasure.

Azriel followed you over the edge, his own release tearing through him as he shuddered above you. He groaned deeply, his wings trembling as he buried himself deep inside you, his body quaking with the force of his climax.

For a moment, the two of you remained intertwined, your bodies still connected as you both came down from the high. Azriel’s forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to steady himself.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and contentment as you stroked his cheek. “I love you too, Azriel. So much.”

He kissed you softly, the touch of his lips gentle, almost reverent. The bond between you was stronger than ever, the connection solidified by the physical and emotional closeness you had just shared.

Azriel slowly pulled out of you, leaving you both feeling slightly empty yet completely fulfilled. He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your bodies still tangled together.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing as you both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared experience. The night was quiet, peaceful, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly whole.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. The bond between you was unbreakable, and with Azriel by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome.

Well you wished you could have drifted off to sleep in the comforting embrace of Azriel, but the moment you felt his hand trailing down your back, you knew that the bat boy wasn’t ready to stop. The frenzy of the bond had a hold on both of you, and the desire that had been temporarily sated was reigniting with a vengeance.

Azriel’s lips found your neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your pulse. The heat of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the tension building in his body once again. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

“Az,” you murmured, your voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and renewed desire. “I thought… I thought we were done.”

He chuckled against your skin, the sound low and filled with promise. “We’re never done, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with the intensity of his need. “Not until you’re completely spent… not until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart raced at his words, the way your body responded to his touch, despite the exhaustion that was beginning to settle in. The frenzy was overwhelming, but you knew there was no resisting it—not when every fiber of your being craved him as much as he craved you.

Azriel rolled you onto your back, his wings flaring out behind him as he looked down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. The sight of him like this—so strong, so powerful, and entirely focused on you—was enough to send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

“You’re insatiable,” you whispered, your voice breathless as you looked up at him.

“For you?” he growled, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Always.”

Without warning, Azriel spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. The sheer size of him, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made your breath hitch in anticipation. He wasn’t going to hold back this time, and the thought of what was to come made your core clench with need.

He entered you in one swift, powerful thrust, burying himself deep inside you. The stretch, the fullness of him, was almost too much, and yet it was exactly what you craved. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips as he set a demanding pace, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body.

“Azriel!” you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you, his pace relentless. “Oh gods, yes… don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He drove into you with a fervor that made your head spin, the bond between you humming with the intensity of your shared pleasure. His wings flared out above you, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with every movement, a testament to his strength and stamina.

But it wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. The love and desire in his eyes were enough to take your breath away, to make you feel completely consumed by him.

As his pace quickened, you felt the tension coiling in your lower abdomen, ready to snap at any moment. Azriel leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with the same urgency as his thrusts.

“I love you, Y/N,” he growled against your lips, his voice rough with need. “Let go. I want to feel you shatter around me.”

His words were your undoing. With a scream of his name, you came undone, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. The intensity of it was overwhelming, your vision blurring as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Azriel followed you over the edge, his release hitting him with such force that his wings trembled above you. He buried himself deep inside you, his body quaking with the strength of his orgasm as he groaned your name, the sound filled with raw emotion.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, leaving only the two of you, locked together in the aftermath of your shared release. The bond between you pulsed with energy, sealing the connection that had been forged in the heat of the frenzy.

Azriel collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he tried to catch his breath. His wings draped over you like a protective cocoon, his body warm and comforting against yours.

The way Azriel’s hands began to roam over your skin again, the heat in his gaze, told you that the night was far from over. The bond between you hummed with energy, still unsatisfied, still craving more.

As you looked into his eyes, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. The night was going to be long, and neither of you was ready to stop.

---

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells @shizukestar @rose-girls-world @brit-broskis-cole-fanfic @faridathefairy @elsie-bells @faridathefairy @wolfbc97 @rcarbo1 @kitsunetori @hufflepuff-pa55 @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @sometimeseverythingsucks @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lilah-asteria @fightmedraco @atomictyphoonkitten

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

#azriel fic #rhysand #azriel #cassian #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #sword #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you

80 notes · View notes