#I lost my last brain cell writing this

[pr0serpinas]

sex not violence

“It’s sex, Sallow. Not writing a valentine.”

Sebastian has some side effects from tinkering with dark magic in his fifth year. Sensual pleasures help calm the voices in his head.

Crack treated seriously, a gift for my lovely @slytherinlives as a compliant spin-off of her sebinis fwb fic, but can be read as a standalone. Featuring light Dom-Garreth and Subastian, as a treat.

Characters have reached majority age. MDNI.

Read on ao3.

[agoodomenssideblogiguess]

Me: Aw, I'm sad, I haven't really been engaging with fandom at all these past couple of months. Am I not doing okay?

This blog: 🤨

The 1200 word meta I'm going to post later tonight: 🤨

All the meta posts in my drafts: 🤨🤨🤨

The extensive tags in my reblogs: 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

My notes app with random snippets of ideas for GO fanfic: 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

My folder of 32 more fleshed out GO fanfic drafts: 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

[moonlight-prose]

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[devil-in-hiding]

(Im not sure if tumblr ate my ask the first time so I figured I’d resend - pls just ignore this if the other one did send 😖) hello!! I really love your writing and have re-read the on the run series maybe 100 times 😅 I normally never submit stuff since I’m not really a writer but I really loved your series and wanted to contribute! 😊

So I loved the idea of the boys adjusting to the security of the farm and getting all beefy and stuff as they settle in, but I was also thinking about farmer reader also starting to relax a little now that she’s got these guys to keep her company, protect, help, etc…. So she also starts putting on a lil bit and it drives the guys nuts 🫠

Like she goes to put on her regular sun dresses and price can’t help but notice how tight it fits her and shows off her figure. Gaz comes across her old clothes (and bras and stuff 👀) being put out to donate as she looks for bigger sizes. Ghost is standing behind her when she bends down to pick up something and can see the fabric stretch across her ass. Finally, soap walks in as she has to jump to put her now slightly too tight jeans on 👀👀👀

Anyway that’s all I had to contribute!! Love ur work (and you!! 😗) 😊💞💗

anon i adore this!! i am sorry i remember seeing this but i believe it got lost in the flood 😭😭

but YES! you have to cook for 5 now, and they’re big boys!! so big portions, and they scold you if you try to give yourself tiny portions, Price also refuses to let you make their plates (it’s a war because you like doing this for them, it’s.. domestic…)

Please if Price couldn’t keep his hands to himself before he is 10x worse seeing how some of your favorite little dresses hardly reach your knees anymore

all the boys watching you load up the truck with donation bags for the little thrift store in town, enjoying the way you hop to shove the last bag in the cab “gee guys, thanks for the help.”

however the sack with all your too small panties? oh those were free game that Gaz snatched right out of the burn pile and the four of them laid them out, snatching up their favorites

Ghost is the worst about putting things in high places so he can watch the way your tits bounce whilst trying to grab it, whining at him to “please just grab it for me! Ghost!”

Soap is the groper, can not control himself whenever you decide to slip onto the couch with him, pulling you to his chest as he adjust y’all’s positions until you were leaning back into him, his hands squeezing your belly appreciatively

ugh i love this and i do not have the brain cells to tell you how MUCH but they love watching their sweet little farmer plump up, tension easing from your shoulders ass the months start to blur together, no longer having to carry the whole farm by yourself

[visionsofmagic]

✤ rougher please [yuuji + reader + sukuna] ✤

―❛ age up yuuji, pussy eating, cum eating, vessel switch, gentle, rough, harsh, humiliation, pet names, swearing, slapping, licking, biting, eating, sucking, two tongues, porn without a plot [?] • 987 words • just came into my mind & couldn't resist the urge to write. • [masterlist]

you watched how the pink hair disappeared between your thighs, leaving his black part visible more than before, after closing his sparkling eyes with excitement yet you paid attention to his tongue in your folds in the particular moment.

itadori yuuji was so good with his tongue, playing with your folds, licking all the juice your clenching pussy was making, chest raising up and down rapidly at how well he was fucking you with his hot tongue that entered inside, earning a yelp from you.

he chuckled childishly at the action, hands still holding your inner thighs, separating the legs aside so that the pink pussy of yours was wide open for him to eat out.

eyes closed, head thrown to behind only to kneel down closer to him when he began to make fucking noises that sent jolts into your slit. “mmmhh - aghhh mhh - fuc aggh! taste so gooood - shiii -“ his tongue began to go in and out in a slow yet effective rhythm. “aaagh pretty pussy - the fucking prettiest pussy!”

hand inside his hair’s folds, pulling it upwards - a source of balance to stay still after feeling so high because of his now wet tongue, leaving lewd sounds mixing with your pleases - moans and his. “yuuji!”

he chuckled once again, listening cute voices you make.

you stayed like that for a certain time before you put your legs on his wide shoulders, pushing him harder into your pussy so that his nose began to scratch the tip of your pussy - euphoric!

looking down at his face, you see him paying all his focus to enjoy the moment without hurting you.

smiling widely, you caressed his hair, making him look up around your face with his sleepy yet shining eyes. “rougher yuuji - fuuck - please please pleas - uh - oohhh -!”

you lost it when he began to work on your pussy again, only this time - it felt different and you were so high to understand the reason until he left a deep chuckle this time - the sound of it didn’t belong to yuuji, no, even the body wasn’t full of yuuji now - it was someone else’s and you see it when you look down after earning a slap on the pussy - what?

“slut,” he said, the fucking king of curses the moment you witnessed the marks on his face, eyes became four in an instant, crimson color had menace - not excitement, maybe a bit of it; lips that were covered with juice you made smirking devilishly. “the brat can’t go any rougher, but I can.”

the hands on your thighs got heavier, his grip got tighter enough to leave bruises, and the breaths you had no longer functioning.

“fuuuck!” you said, mind didn’t comprehend the situation you were in because how could it? especially after you earned another slap on the slit with the following bites. “yuu -“

a lick that took away the last brain cell from you with a slap on the thigh, “no fucking yuuji. that brat can’t do shit - not like me. did you forget whore?”

the difference hit you like a ball, yet, you showed no weakness, you just moaned his name this time when his tongue went from bottom to top until it reached the tip of the pussy, sucking the flesh as if it were the most delicious thing he can taste.

“sukuna - aggghhhh - ‘kuuna!”

he laughed at you without breaking the contact with your pussy, a hand reaching into your mouth and your messy brain couldn’t make a meaningful statement about it until the hand covered your mouth, bitter taste of the palm changed into something more - a fucking mouth of sukuna as he kept sucking, licking and eating your messed pussy.

“fucking dumb slut,” his bitter words didn’t affect you- already got used to it as you kept kissing the tongue on his palm, closing your eyes, losing yourself in the moment; a mouth kissing you, biting the lips, tongue entering into the wet mouth that leaves salvia behind whereas the other one does the same with your pussy - biting it, entering it, getting wet in sync.

already lost in paradise and hell at the same moment, your moans no longer heard, shut down by the mouth you’re kissing.

that mouth left yours, hand traveled through your body from chin to neck, breasts to abdomen ‘till it reached its final destination to join the other one by licking and leaving salvias - a few bites too, in every place it visited on your body.

no matter how much you tried to hold decency, it vanished in thin air when sukuna began to fuck you with his two tongues after putting his palm at the bottom of your pussy. “agghhhh, mmhhhh - ‘kuna, ‘is soo muuch - I - I can’ - mmmhhh - fuuagghh!”

never listened, never left, never got gentle.

he kept going only to stop when you cum hard on his tongues, dripping into them and to the floor shamelessly, screaming louder - his name was the only thing you comprehend.

leaving you there, the body already collapsed into the bed under you, he rose up on his feet, fingers collecting the last drop of your cum from the lips, disappearing inside his mouth as he licked and drank it, saying ‘hmm’.

“tasteful,” he smirked, looking at the mess he made out of you with pride. “as always, my cute little whore,” he then put his hands on your sides, kneeling down to your level, smirk still on his face as he caressed your cheeks, “would fuck you now, makin’ you paralyzed for a few days but the brat is being so noisy. it’s his time to fuck you this time, but,” he winked - oh that bastard! “the next time will be mine.”

💙💜

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ^^

[my-castles-crumbling]

Sirius Lupin

Thanks, @beautyoftheships for letting me write your idea!

"Mister Black!" Minerva McGonagall called across the classroom, not for the first time, as Sirius and his friends packed up their things.

Sirius ignored her. He seemed to be grinning to himself.

"Mister Black!" Her voice was more insistent, and she approached Sirius's desk, annoyed.

It was only when she stopped in front of him that he looked up.

"Oh! Were you talking to me?" He asked, clearly feigning innocence.

James Potter snorted beside him, but quickly smoothed out his face at the glare she sent him.

"Explain the meaning of this, Mister Black," Minerva demanded, pushing a paper in front of Sirius.

"Professor, that's my test," Sirius explained calmly, his face maddeningly blank.

Minerva briefly questioned why she was not already retired. "Then why does it say Sirius Lupin on it?" she asked, irritated.

"Well, Professor, Moony here's finally lost enough brain cells to consider dating me," Sirius explained sincerely, smiling a bit when he saw the way Remus Lupin, who was on his other side, blushed scarlet. "So I've decided to waste no time and made it permanent."

Minerva stared at him for several seconds, again contemplating her choice of career, before asking hesitantly, "You two haven't gotten ma-"

"No!" Remus interrupted, looking mortified. "No. He's just being ridiculous."

"I just wanted a better last name than mine, Professor," Sirius shrugged. "Merlin knows I don't want to be associated with my family. So who better to be associated with than my Moony, here?" he asked, eyes wide and genuine, a smile playing on his face.

Minerva blinked at this, and looked over at Remus, who looked quite as taken aback as she did, but also thoroughly smitten.

Perhaps it was the fact that she understood why Sirius wouldn't want to be associated with the horrible family he was born into, or maybe it was because she was just a hopeless romantic, but she sighed.

"Don't put it on any official paperwork," she grumbled, hating how she always seemed to have a soft spot for the two.

"Aye, aye, captain!"

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[azrielslightintheshadows]

I have an idea!

Y/n has always been in love with Az since they were young (they’re mate but he doesn’t know) but he pushed her feelings aside because he was in love with Mor. Y/n always paid him attention and did everything the would please him. However, she was under the mountain with Rhys for 50 years. When she came back and found that Az is now falling for Elain, she’s changed into a different person. She is cold and tired of chasing after him and now just doesn’t give a fck anymore. Az realizes what he is losing and has to grovel hard to get his mate back.

Im so sorry if this is long😂 it’s just my 4am brain going wild.

Alive.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma, death and scars.

Masterlist

Oof this took way too long to write. I think this is my favorite request. I tried to follow the whole plot. I hope you enjoy it!

You loved your family more than your heart could handle, but you couldn’t go back right away. After you and Rhysand were freed from Amarantha thanks to the human girl -Feyre, you hugged him and said your goodbye.

“Rhys I’m sorry, I can’t go back yet… I need some time to mourn all the years that I lost…. I… I need some time to find myself.” Tears were streaming down your face. Rhys was looking at you with a pained expression, he understood where all this was coming from, he understood your trauma, so with a kiss on your forehead he said his goodbye and winnowed to Velaris -probably.

You were staring at the house of wind, your thoughts running to the past, when you and Rhys separated you found shelter in the day court, Helion was going through the same trauma too, so you helped each other. Another reason why you didn’t want to come back though was the shadowsinger of the night court. You met him a while after he had won the blood rite and immediately fell for him, you thought that you were meant to be together and when the mating bond snapped for you, everything made sense and your feelings towards him only grew. But it didn’t snap for him, and he didn’t have feelings for you… you spent the next years watching him pinning after Mor and when you had enough and told him how you felt he brushed you off and became distant. You kept caring for him though, pleasing him became your obsession, and he would smile at you, thank you and become distant again. You took a deep breath and called Rhys in your mind, in a blink he appeared in front of you and engulfed you in his arms.

“I missed you so much” he whispered.

“I missed you too” your eyes watered.

“Let’s get you to the house of wind everyone should be there at this time” you nodded, and he picked you up, his wings emerging from darkness, and you were off into the sky. You landed and you couldn’t hold the giggles back, it had been a while since the last time you flew, and you missed it. Cassian probably heard your giggles and ran outside, a shocked expression on his face that turned into tears as he picked you up and span you around.

“You’re back” he boomed and tightened his hold on you. “You’re back… you’re back” he repeated. Cassian always considered you his little sister, the friendship you two always had was special. You couldn’t hold back the tears as you kept whispering “I love you” to him.

After a while he let go of you and you walked inside, Mor and Amren were standing, their faces decorated with bright smiles. Feyre was behind them and she stared at you like she had seen a ghost, you had appeared in her cell under the mountain a couple of times to ease her pain and kept yourself hidden in the crowd when she would be let out. You didn’t want her to recognise you in case someone found out that you were helping her, so now that she saw you again, she knew she wasn’t dreaming back then. You glanced at the table, two females were sitting there, one had a hard expression on her face and the other a sweet smile. Azriel was sitting next to the second one his eyes wide as he saw you. “Hey” you breathed and chuckled when Mor and Amren jumped on you, Cassian’s arms were instantly on your waist to keep you from falling backwards. “We missed you so much” Mor cried. What shocked you though was Amren’s teary eyes, you had never seen her showing any emotion.

“I’m glad you’re back girl” she said and hurried off somewhere -probably to hide her tears.

You glanced at Feyre with a smile, you didn’t want her to thank you, so you nodded and she understood, “Welcome back” she smiled.

“This is my oldest sister Nesta, and this is the middle one Elain.” She continued and the girls nodded in greeting. “Nice to meet you I’m y/n one of the bastards in this group” you chuckled and pointed to Cass and Azriel. The shadowsinger was still frozen in his spot.

“Tough crowd” you muttered to Rhys when they didn’t laugh.

“You’re back…” Azriel’s voice made everyone whip their heads towards him.

“I think we established that” you replied, and he blushed. You expected his shadows to appear and cover his face, but they didn’t. Weird. You thought.

Cassian broke the silence “I think we should have a party today, to welcome you back…... like the old days”.

“Oh no, I’m not in the mood for a party” you groaned. “Okay then just us, a few bottles of wine and snacks” he pushed, his eyes were pleading you and your heart broke. “Okay” you replied with a soft smile.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“So, Cassian and Nesta are mates and Elain is Lucien’s mate?” you asked Mor. She was currently sitting on your bed watching you unpack your stuff and telling you what you had missed.

“Yes, but Azriel is courting her and I think she likes him too” Mor rolled her eyes. You froze. Azriel pinning after Mor was something you came into terms with and accepted as the reason he didn’t have feelings for you. But now… turns out you weren’t enough for him. He wasn’t obsessed with Mor he just didn’t have anyone better to pursue. And that hurt. Fuck him, I went through enough under the mountain I won’t let him hurt me again. I’m done. You decided and ignored the pain in your chest.

“Mor… let’s go to Rita’s tomorrow it has been a while since I had a male in my bed” you told her and she cheered.

You stared at your old clothes, the scandalous dresses you used to wear when you visited the court of nightmares, the leathers you wore in battle, and the leggings and crop tops you used to wear in training. The girl that wore those was cheerful, kind and cared about others so much that she would put them above herself. That girl was dead, she died under the mountain, Amarantha killed her and although Rhys tried to save her, keep her from harm’s way he couldn’t. You picked a tight pair of pants and a crop top. The scars you got from Amarantha’s guards on display, whenever Rhysand wouldn’t do something she asked him to she would torture you until he broke. You didn’t accuse him for it, when he would find you later that day with tears streaming down his face you would tell him that everything is fine and he would fall asleep in your arms, only then he would stop sobbing.

You shook your head and headed to the main room, 4 bottles of wine were placed on the table and bowls filled with snacks around them. Mor and Amren were sitting in front of the fireplace, Rhysand on the armchair next to them with Feyre on his lap, Cassian and Nesta on the big sofa and Azriel with Elain on the ground in front of them. Azriel stared at you, and you ignored him taking a seat next to Mor and grabbing one glass of wine. No one questioned you about where you have been, you saw the glances at your scarred abdomen but still no one dared to say anything. You were talking with Mor and Amren when Azriel cleared his throat, the sound way too close. You slowly turned your head towards him, he wasn’t across the room anymore, he was standing right next to you, so close that you could feel his warmth, you glanced up to him. “Can we talk?” he asked, his hands behind his back and a sad look on his face.

“Yes, what is it?” you replied with a bored look.

“Alone” he was panicking.

“Oh, then no” you smiled.

He blinked, he didn’t expect that, he was used to you saying yes to everything he wanted. And now not only did you say no to him, but you also returned to the conversation you were having with Mor completely unbothered.

“Please” he spoke again and this time his voice was breaking.

“Azriel… as you can clearly see I’m having a conversation right now. Please stop interrupting and get back to your seat, I will come to you when I’m done” The polite smile on your face told him everything he needed to know, you weren’t mad, you just didn’t care anymore, you were done. He gulped and nodded. Cassian placed his hand on Azriel’s shoulder and pulled him back, he guided him to the hall. “What are you doing?” Cassian growled.

“It’s none of your business” Azriel growled back. The shadowsinger’s eyes were challenging him and Cassian pushed him against the wall.

“We just got her back I won’t let you scare her away or hurt her, if you want to get your dick wet sweet Elain will gladly let you. Back the fuck off” Cassian’s voice was lethal, he had never used this tone on his brother. Azriel was fuming, he flared his wings against the wall to get some force and pushed the warlord back.

“It’s not like that and you fucking know it” he hissed. “I just saw her again after all this time… I fucking love her and she is so cold to me that I think I will go mad”.

“Well, it’s too late now, she clearly doesn’t care about you like that anymore so let her go” Cassian pushed him off and left.

When they returned you sent Cassian a questioning look, but he brushed you off, Azriel was seething. When Mor finished the story she was telling you about a girl she met you walked up to Azriel. “I’m available now”.

He got up and gestured you to follow him, Cassian growled. What’s happening? You thought.

He entered his room and waited for you before closing the door.

“Trying to get me into your bed shadowsinger?” you quirked your brow.

“Would you like that?” he asked, and you almost choked on air. “I will pass” you replied.

“How have you been?” he was fidgeting.

“You brought me here to ask that?” you rolled your eyes “Fine I guess, still healing”.

“Did I do something?” he stared at you. “No, why?” “You are ignoring me and whenever I try to approach you I find a cold wall” he replied. “Everything’s fine can I go now?” you shrugged. “Y/n please…” he stopped.

“Please what?” you snapped. He couldn’t look at you, his scarred arms were hidden behind his back and for the first time since you arrived his shadows emerged, most of them covered their master and the rest came to you, slithering around your body and caressing your cheek. “There you are” you giggled and lifted your hand, they happily circled around your wrist and some nested into your palm. Azriel had a soft look on his face at the sight. And then two things happened, two things that he would remember for the rest of his life.

The bond snapped.

And Elain burst in with an annoyed look on her face, making you flinch and then scoff before leaving his room.

You didn’t go back to the main room, you weren’t in the mood anymore, so you entered your bedroom and locked the door. You promised you wouldn’t let him hurt you again and yet here you are alone in your room feeling an ache in your chest. Everything’s fine I will go out with Mor tomorrow and I will forget about him. And with that thought you fell asleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came faster than you would like and with a groan you headed to the dining room to get breakfast. Mor, Cassian, Nesta and Elain were already there, you took a seat next to Mor and a plate filled with food appeared in front of you. Elain was glaring at you, you brushed her off and started eating. She scoffed.

“What?” you asked before slamming your fork on the table making her flinch, you smirked.

“Couldn’t you just stay wherever you were? Why did you have to come back and destroy everything?” she asked, her voice breaking and tears streaming down her face.

“Oh please who are you to ask me why I returned to my home? I was here way too long before you, so please shut up. I’m not planning to steal your pretty boyfriend. I couldn’t care less about him or you.” You chuckled and picked up your fork again completely dismissing her.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t want him, he wants you.” She whispered. This piqued your interest and you glanced at her. “He left me yesterday” she continued.

“You will find someone else” you shrugged, and she scoffed before leaving. “Ouch” Cassian said, and you giggled. Nesta had a hard look on her face, but she didn’t dare to speak, she knew what you meant to the inner circle, and she didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Evening found you in your room with Mor, both of you spent the day there with a bottle of wine. You were both drunk so getting dressed for your night out took way more time than it normally would.

You hadn’t noticed the dress you picked until you were ready and didn’t have time to change. It was a short blue dress the same shade as Azriel’s siphons. Your back was bare, and the low cut showed off your cleavage, Mor whistled when she saw you. You liked the dress too, you just wished you could change the colour. You shook your head and followed Mor, everyone was sitting in the dining room, their heads snapped in your direction when you walked in.

“We’re going out” Mor informed them and grabbed your hand. “Byee” you giggled as she pulled you away.

You caught a glimpse of the shadowsinger. He was staring at you, a mesmerized look on his face as he took you in. He licked his lips and you almost moaned. Stop it. You reprimanded yourself. You walked out and Mor winnowed you at Rita’s.

“Oh I missed this place” you said with a sigh and smiled. Mor giggled and walked inside.

The place was still the same and quick enough you found yourself dancing and having the time of your life with Mor. You felt someone behind you and hands grabbing your waist, you leaned back and let the stranger grind on you. Mor winked and took a few steps back, the smile on her face vanishing as her eyes widened and before you could react the stranger was yanked away, and you heard a loud cracking noise over the music. You turned around and were met with the sight of a strong back and huge stretched wings. “What the fuck” you yelled and Azriel spun around, he grabbed you and his shadows engulfed you. When the darkness faded you were on a field.

You knew this field, he would take you here whenever you were sad, the view of the whole city and the sparkling flowers always made you feel better. “What the fuck was that?” you screamed.

“What did you expect me to do when I saw another male grinding against my mate?” he screamed too, his voice so loud that the ground trembled. His eyes were wide, and his body tensed with every move you made.

“Oh that’s what this is all about” you laughed. “Your mate. Not me -your mate.”

“No.” he growled “I have loved you way too long before the bond snapped you can ask Cassian… I tried to tell you but Elain interrupted us and at the same time the bond snapped”.

“Too late Az” you whispered. “No it can’t be… please” his eyes watered “I always loved you but I was scared I would lose you if I told you so I pretended that I wanted Mor and then you told me you love me and I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed you away and then Amarantha took you and I thought I lost a piece of my soul. Every day I tried to leave Velaris to find you, but the wards pushed me back. And then Rhysand came back, and you didn’t. I begged him to let me come find you, but he wouldn’t let me. He asked me to give you space, he told me you needed to heal, and I let you. And then you wouldn’t come back, every day I waited for you, but you wouldn’t come” at this point he was crying, his sobs interrupting him. With a deep breath he continued. “I was losing my mind and when Elain started flirting with me, I decided to give it a try, maybe I could get over you with her… I couldn’t but at least she kept me from losing my mind. And then you came back and at first I thought about not telling you but I realized what I was losing and I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

You felt dizzy, every word hitting you with so much force that it took your breath away.

“I will do anything to make it up to you, just say what you want me to do, and I will… I will give you anything you want, even my life, even my wings” he cried and knelt in front of you. His hands grabbed Truth-Teller and he offered it to you “cut them off if you wish I won’t hate you”.

Now you were crying too. He was kneeling in front of you with his head bowed, his hands offering Truth-Teller and his wings stretched behind him to give you easy access.

You grabbed his jaw your palms filling with his tears, and you lifted his head. You knelt too and stared into his eyes.

“Don’t you ever think like that again. I love your wings; I would die to protect them. I love your hazel eyes, I love your scarred hands, I love your body and I love your stupid face. Please don’t make me regret this.” You said and kissed him.

Maybe that girl didn’t die under the mountain, or maybe Azriel brought her back to life either way you were glad. You were alive again.

Requests are open!

[leqonsluv3r]

Hii! May I ask Leon with a microbiologist? Like, they ramble about science news and new projects/ideas they have in mind (wich in most parts he doesn't understand), random facts about microorganisms & general stuff, along with jokes every chance they get? Thank you!

cardiomyocytes* (and the affected)

—re!2 leon kennedy x microbiologist!fem reader

(*cardiomyocytes — smooth muscle cells that surround the human heart)

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: the butchering of anything involving microbiology (i have zero knowledge of any of this so bear with me), reader being a smarty pants and leon having no clue what she’s talking about, pure fluff, kissing, established relationship, brainiac x leon troupe (obviously), police officer leon, and other things i’m forgetting to mention.

“he looks over the titles of the books she’s studying and reading, even if she already has a job as one of five microbiologists at her lab. she still reads and never stops gaining knowledge. a thing he admires but deeply despises in certain aspects of their relationship. always one upping him with her knowledge that she gained from many years of studying. he’s just a police officer, he knows the basics of that, but all the words of the titles he’s reading of the books on their shared bookshelf in their apartment are lost on him. what the hell even is protozoa? and why does it need to have a book?”

— or reader is a microbiologist and leon struggles to understand the basics of what his girlfriend does

masterlist taglist

an: thank you for the request anon. this is probably one of the hardest ones i’ve had to write because i know zilch about microbiology. had to ask my mom with the science degree about a million questions for this oneshot. so please enjoy <33 hope it meets your expectations.

she got her degree when she was seventeen. she was way ahead of everyone in high school, graduating a year early and starting college right away.

she knew she was smarter then some of the kids she went to college with, she was the only one insane enough to base a paper on the four cells that surround the heart.

and it got her an A. go figure.

she didn’t take risks often, not ever. only when she was in college and high school did she take academic risks, but never actual risks. like bungee jumping off of a bridge or trying the hottest pepper known to man.

no, she never did any of that.

not until she was in her fourth and final year of her microbiology degree did she take a risk. she never even considered taking it up until this point.

she saw leon for the first time, and everything inside of her. her brain, her heart and the cells surrounding it, seemed to indicate that she would be a fool if she didn’t talk to him. didn’t take that risk that she had never even thought of.

he was so beautiful, all of him. he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. from the brown hair that wasn’t completely dark, to the blue of his eyes and the way he carried himself as if he didn’t have a care in the world…even if he had a badge and a gun.

even if he put his life on the line ever single day, he walked around and into the coffee shop she studied at frequently as if it was no big deal. she tried not to gawk, tried not to peer over her textbook of blood born viruses. she just tried to be subtle, but apparently he caught onto that.

stupid cops and their ability to sense staring. she thought to herself that day as she ducked behind her textbook at the last second. she prayed to god he didn’t say anything, didn’t see her practically eye fucking him with her corneas.

she thought she was safe until she heard steps come towards her table, stopping just by her eye-line near the edge of the table. she swallowed and looked up from her textbook. and she had never taken such a risk by doing so, by just simply moving her head up from where she sat to meet his devastatingly beautiful face.

he tilted his head, looking over her features for a second himself. he selfishly let himself look, she had stared at him first after all. her face was coated in a blush that made her feel like her whole body was on fire.

is this what attraction, true, attraction was like? she felt like she was having a hot flash. she swallowed and managed a nervous smile, slowly closing her textbook and she made the biggest mistake by doing that — showing him the cover of her textbook.

his eyes went down to the cover of the textbook, reading it out loud, the first words he had ever spoken to her. “A Planet of Viruses?” he repeated the title with a raised brow and then let his eyes drift over to her. she managed to speak, or tried to, talking to men had never been her specialty.

“uhh, yeah. it’s…i’m in college.” she says as she flashes another nervous smile, wanting to shove herself into a flesh pit. she hated this, she was bad at talking to men. she should’ve just sworn men off forever but she was still a women. no degree of any kind would change that.

he nods slowly and to her surprise, he sits down at the small table across from her, coffee in a to-go cup. she scans her eyes over him, almost scared that if she looks to long she’ll be damned.

“what do you study?” he says with a small sip to his coffee, leaning back in the chair a little. he was taking an interest to her, trying to get to know her. she felt her cheeks flush ten times more at the realization. “microbiology.”

“microbiology? what is that?” he asks with a small chuckle as he shifts in the seat across from her, she brushed her hands over her pants and looked directly at him, not looking away once.

“uhm, it’s the study of the biology of microscopic organisms: viruses, bacteria, algae, fungi, etc.” she manages to explain as she feels his undivided attention on her, his blue eyes sparkling a little bit. it was almost like he liked learning something. whether it be about her or just in general, she wasn’t sure. “why microbiology?”

she tilts her head at him, looking at the book title he had read out loud for one of her courses upon introduction. “i think it’s fascinating. the cells in a body or the cells of a plant. they’re both living things, they operate differently but when you look at it underneath a microscope…they work in more similar ways.” he sips on his coffee and nods.

“so you like learning how things work?” he asks with a small grin, trying to figure out with just a subtle shifts of his blue eyes over her body across the small café table. she nods and smiles, she tries to do the best she can, she’s terrible at flirting.

“for the most part.” she hums as she taps on the cover of the textbook with her fingers, “the only thing i can’t seem to figure out is why your talking to me.” she continues with a small bite of her bottom lip in addition to her nerves.

he smiles and shakes his head, god help me. his smile is fucking beautiful. she thinks as she watches him adjust in the chair across from her, leaning his elbows on the table. “i think your a beautiful woman, you were staring and i happen to like awkward women who can barely flirt.” he says with a small tilt of his head, analyzing her again with his blue irises.

she knew he was joking, he was being honest and that got a lot farther with her then stupid pickup lines ever would. “i’m not great at the flirting, your right. i just…i don’t talk to handsome guys. i don’t.” she swallows as she realizes what she let slip out of her mouth.

“i’m handsome? hmm, maybe i should add that to my resume.” he says with a small goofy smile, showcasing some of his teeth. she blinked and felt her cheeks grow hot again, her whole body felt like it would burst into flames and implode. she tried to laugh but it came out like some weird cackle.

he shakes his head, “it’s okay, pretty girl. you think i’m handsome. i’ll take it.” he says with a small smile and a nod of his head. she felt a smile grace her features, one more real at his compliment. pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl…the way he said it echoed in her brain and didn’t escape.

before she could open her mouth to say anything, his radio went off on his uniform. a bunch of codes and words she didn’t understand before he answered the walkie. “yeah, i’m on my way.” he mumbled. he then looked back to her with an apologetic smile, good. he didn’t want this to end either, i must be doing something right. she thinks to herself.

“well sorry to cut the conversation short, pretty girl. but i gotta go bust some criminals.” he says with a small sigh, pulling himself out of the chair across from her. she nods towards him in understanding, “life of a cop, daunting.” she jokes, almost wanting to slap herself for it.

that was until he laughed — the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. she swears it, this man is already ruining other men for her. not that there were other men to begin with. she grabs her pen and grabs his to-go coffee cup.

he looks at her with a raised eyebrow, “stealing my coffee? you know this is a coffee place…” he starts as he cracks a small grin, she shakes her head with a small grin and clicks her pen when she’s done writing on the side. “my name and number, incase you get curious and wanna learn more about microbiology.” she grins.

she was hoping he got the hint, praying and by the looks of it. he did, he took the cup from her hand, their fingers brushing briefly. he holds the cup up and reads the name and number on the side.

he shoots her a playful smile, a glint in those blue irises that she swears could make any girl smile. “i’ll make sure to have a list of questions by friday.”

her brows furrow, “what’s on friday?” she swallows as she waits for his answer. he winks at her, winks, and says. “our date.”

she blinks, her eyes wide and feels a smile forming on her face that she can’t help, like she could implode right here in front of him and be absolutely fine with it. “okay…?” she trails off because she never got his name.

he sees her brows furrow and her actually look confused, which he guesses isnt something that happens often in her brain. “leon, or handsome cop. whichever you prefer.” he says with a small playful smile on his boyish features.

she laughs and nods, sucking in a breath. “see you on friday, leon. be in touch.” she says as she tries to regain her cool and not seem like a dork, some girl who’s never talked to the male species before. he scans her up and down with a different kind of something in his blue eyes, “oh i will be.”

she swears that as he walks away, she feels her pulse go ten times faster and her stomach erupt in butterflies. as she watches him exit the coffee shop, following him with her eyes until he gets into his police cruiser, to-go cup and hand and zooms out of the parking lot.

she feels her heart thrum faster in her chest. she knew she had taken a risk, the biggest one she ever had that was in academics.

and she was excited at what this would bring.

two years later, she’s still the same girl she was in her fourth and final year in college. except now, she had leon indefinitely.

he was still somewhat amazed by her smarts and the ways she could just pack information into her brain like it was nobodies business. she had graduated a year after they got together, marveling that all her late nights of studying and cramming down books about cells and microorganisms paid off.

he was there to see her graduate college, there when she got a job at a lab with five other scientists. all studying and devoting their life to finding inaccuracies in cell makeup of various plants & humans alike.

he was there to move her into his home, helping her unload various boxes of books and other things. even a microscope and slides. he didn’t ask, it was pretty self explanatory given her profession.

now here they were, together and happy. he was working as a cop at the police station in town and she was devoting her career to science. they were happy for each other, they were following their dreams.

the only thing was that leon was still lost whenever she talked about microbiology. he had zero idea about what it was besides the basics, that it was about cells and stuff. he had no other clue besides that.

it was lost on him whenever she opened her mouth to talk about work that day, he tried doing research, just so he could maybe try and understand what she was talking about. but he didn’t have a college degree in it, so all the terms and information were lost on him entirely.

he scanned the bookshelf of their shared place, looking over his titles which were just autobiography’s and some books he read as a kid. then there were hers, things about cells, data research, fungi…he tried reading one once and fell asleep after two pages.

literally.

because what the hell was a protozoa? and why did it need a 500 page book talking about it and its properties? he shook his head and sighed, deciding to take the book off the shelf and glance at the cover. he didn’t even understand it, again, it was lost on him.

but his girlfriend was happy, she loved all of it. so who was he to judge? but he just wished he could understand it a little. he didn’t like just nodding along when she talked about work like an idiot. he shoved the book back in on the bookshelf where it went, sighing.

maybe another day.

they were sitting on the couch watching a movie, some horror movie where the idiot protagonist was running away from the even stupider antagonist. she sighed and sat back on the couch cushions.

“you okay, baby?” he asks with a small glance from the tv screen in her direction. she sighs and nods, “horror movies are just…” she starts as she shifts on the couch, looking over at him. “why do you like horror movies?” she asks.

he thinks for a minute, shifting from his position on the couch to set his soda down on the coffee table in front of it. “i like them because it’s funny that any person would be stupid enough to make these mistakes.” he says with a small snort, nodding towards the tv where the protagonist was running down a dark alleyway.

she looks at the tv and then back at him, “but why are we watching it if you think it’s stupid?” she says with furrowed brows as she looks over his features. he sighs and pauses the movie with a small movement of his hand to the remote, turning to face her on the couch.

“what’s wrong with you?”

“huh?” she looks perplexed, like he just asked her to get naked, not that she’d mind doing that for him.

“you don’t get this grumpy when i watch horror movies. what’s the real issue here?” he says with a small tilt of his head, an amused smile on his face. she shifts on the couch, moving to tuck her feet beneath her. “nothing, i’m fine.”

“really? because i don’t think you are.” he says with a small raise of his eyebrow at his girlfriend, moving closer to rub a hand on her knee. “what’s the issue?” he repeats the question, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

she sighs and looks away from him, damn him and his ability to know everything about me. she thinks as she tries to form her thoughts into words. “one of the scientists in the lab today…” she starts and shakes her head, trying to push back the anger.

“he lost one of the cell samples.” she says in a small but angry voice as she feels her fists curl a little with anger. he rubs her knee with his hand, keeping her calm to the best of his ability, “what kind of cell sample was it?” he asks softly as he keeps his voice even and calm.

“human cell sample.” she says with a small pinch of her brow, “a cancerous human cell sample.” she repeats as she looks at him. he raises a small brow in her direction again, “how does someone manage to lose that?” he asks as if she isn’t there, more like his thoughts are just pouring out of his mouth.

“i have no clue. but he’s lucky we have a backup or else…else i would’ve shoved him into the eyewash station.” she says in a low growl as if it’s a dangerous threat. he chuckles and shakes his head, still rubbing his hand in soothing circles over her knee. “your not gonna shove anyone into the eyewash station.” he says with a small knowing look on his face.

“but i could.” she retorts with a small raise of her eyebrows in her boyfriends direction. “he messed up my sample. he had it coming.” she raises a fist and shakes it. he rolls his eyes playfully at her antics, putting the hand on her knee over her curled fist and lowering it. “calm down, rocky. your not hurting anyone over some dish full of cells.” he says with a small laugh.

she sighs and nods, “i want to though. it took me months to acquire those samples for research.” she groans as she throws herself back on the couch dramatically. “look at it this way,” he starts.

“you don’t have to worry about what happened to it. you know what he did with it, lost or not.” he says with a small shrug as he glances over her on the couch next to her.

“that’s not the point!” she says in frustration as she grips at her hair and buries her face into the couch cushions. he leans over a bit and rubs over her spine, “take a step back, baby. relax, it’s okay.” he says gently as he rubs her back over her hoodie she was wearing.

she takes a couple deep breaths, nodding into the couch cushions as she relaxes into his touch. “you need to calm down. it’s just science at the end of the day. it’s not gonna change and it’s not going anywhere without you.” he reassures her as he leans over and presses a kiss on the back of her head, rubbing soothing circles down her spine.

she sniffles, “i know but he lost the fucking sample.” she groans in frustration as she keeps her cheek buried in the couch cushions. he nods supportively and rubs her back, “you can’t stress over it. what’s done is done.” he says firmly but gently, a small sad smile on his features.

he knows how worked up she gets over her job, taking it home with her all the time. he always has to de-stress her. he has to unknot her like rope and make sure she’s okay after the work week.

her job makes his look like a circus.

she sniffles and nods slowly, she pulls her head out of the couch cushions and moves towards him on the couch, burying her face into his neck and just hugging him. he keeps rubbing her back and holding her close like he did before, “your so good at your job, you care so much. but you need to let things go, breathe.” he says calmly into her hair.

“trust me,” he continues. “in my job if you take things home from work. it will literally kill you and drive you crazy.” he says with a small snort as he shakes his head. “but your doing what you love and it’s great. you need to let things go when it’s necessary.” he whispers into her hair, rubbing her back and pressing a small kiss into the crown of her head.

“i can’t let you destroy and work yourself up, that beautiful brain is amazing when it’s working properly. i need to hear my girlfriends random facts about viruses.” he chuckles into her hair, trying to cheer her up. which seems to work because she muffles a small laugh into his shoulder.

“see, even you know i’m right.” he says softly into his hair, patting her back gently. she pulls her face away from his neck after soaking it with some tears. “your always right.” she groans as she wipes at her eyes with her hoodie sleeves.

“i’m not always right, i’m just lucky.” he says softly as he looks over her features with a small smile, rubbing her back as best as she can to calm her down. she rolls her eyes and moves towards him, pressing her lips to his slowly.

he keeps a firm hold on her back and hips, kissing her slowly and gently back as he tastes the saltiness of her tears on her lips. these moments with her are probably the best in his mind, he gets to hold her close, rub her back and kiss her.

he wouldn’t trade anything for this. he’s certain.

two days later, they were snowed in.

it had snowed about 18 inches in the city, and more was bound to come according to the news forecast. even leon, wasn’t going to work. he used his PTO because there was no way he was going out in that.

and she was still trying to argue to go out, to go to the lab and get her work done for the day. her boss even called her and told her the trip wasn’t worth it, to just take the day off.

but she just wasn’t listening.

“please?! i need to go!” she whined at leon as she tried to jump in her snow boots to meet his keys. he was holding her car keys above his head out of her reach. “no fucking way. have you seen the roads, baby? it’s not safe.” he says with a gesture to the window outside.

everything was covered in inches of snow and white. freezing cold temperatures and it just kept falling in fat flakes from the sky. she shook her head in protest, “just give me the keys!” she whined again as she tried to reach on her tippy toes for them.

“no! i cannot believe i’m saying this.” he pinches his brows and looks at her with a hard look, one that he rarely had when it came to her. “your not going to work, it’s unsafe and your boss even told you not to go. so go change into some pjs and sit your ass down and relax. i’m hiding your car keys.” he says firmly as he looks at her, brushing past her to go into their bedroom.

she groans and yells, “your such a buzzkill!”

“i don’t hear you changing or sitting down!” he yells from the bedroom. she groans and stomps her snow boots on the floor like a child, whipping her head to look back out at the window, “stupid snow algae.” she hisses at the dreary weather outside.

eventually, she gave up on the complaining after leon hid her keys and made her get comfortable and relax. they were sitting on the couch an hour later, watching some movie. her body was pressed against his and her leg was wrapped over his legs. “i���m so cold.” she mumbles into his chest.

“baby, we have two blankets around us. you have socks and a sweater on. the heat’s on full blast. what else do you want me to do?” he asks with a small raise of his eyebrows to where she’s cuddled up against his chest.

“i don’t know, make it stop.” she grumbles into his chest as she presses herself closer to him, keeping the blankets adjusted around them on the couch. the movie was playing mindlessly in the background at his point as they kept cuddled up together.

he shakes his head in amusement, “as much as i would love to magically make you not cold anymore. that’s not how it works.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to the top of her hair. she sighs and nuzzles her head deeper into his chest, “just hold me then.” she muffles into his chest.

he looks down at her with a small brow raise. “i am holding you.” he squeezes his arms around her beneath the blankets for emphasis. “not good enough, smartass.” she mumbles into his chest.

he pinches her hip underneath her sweatshirt with his cold hands, she shrieks and bolts upright, smacking him on the chest. he laughs, “your such a jerk!” she shrieks as she tries to move away from him on the couch with the two blankets.

“oh no, get back here.” he says with a small grin, grabbing her effectively and the blankets with her, holding her close to his side on the couch. “i love you too, baby.” he mumbles with amusement as he presses his lips to the side of her head, then her cheek.

causing her cheeks to heat up and flare despite her being cold. she could feel her heart expanding and the muscles expanding.

“your lucky your cute.” she whispers as she just moves back next to him for warmth. he chortles her and presses another kiss to her head. “i’m cute, handsome and i put up with your pain in the ass. i deserve an award.” he says with a proud smile as she looked up at him, her brow raised in amusement.

“there’s no award for that.” she starts as she looks at him, her eyes widening a little at the words he chose. she feels her heart pound faster and faster against her chest.

even after all this time, the intensity from just looking at him never fails to make her heart feel like it’s going to simply explode within her chest. he smirks and obliterates her world view yet again, “i’ll invent one then and give it to myself.”

she’s never going to let him go ever, not in a million years would she do something that stupid with the level of IQ she has.

after the snow continued to fall that day, then the next and it was a full on blizzard, soon enough. they had been kept inside, even their bosses individually kept them out of the streets.

she wanted to argue but there was no point, not at this time. not when leon hid her car keys yesterday. instead of being curled up underneath the blanket pressed so close together, they were both sitting on the couch. leon on one end and her on the other.

she had cracked open a book that she had been wanting to read about fungi cells and leon was just watching the tv at a low volume so he wasn’t disturbing her.

“i can’t believe you’d rather read a book about fungi cells then watch Brooklyn nine-nine with me.” he says with a small shake of his head as he eyes her eyes that swept over each word of the page like it was nobodies business.

“i’m here on the couch with you aren’t i?” she says with a small focused look as she talked and continued reading, flipping a page in her book. he snorts, “that’s not what i meant.”

“do you even know what fungi cells are?” she says with a small raise of her eyebrow in his direction at his end of their couch. he shakes his head, his gaze going back to the tv.

“they’re cells in mushrooms.” he mumbles as if he knows the answer already, she closes her book with a small snap and bookmarks the page, “fungi are eukaryotes and have a complex cellular organization.” she says as seriously as she can.

his brow furrows and he pauses the tv, “i have no idea what that means.” he says with a small sigh as he looks over at her, the book sat in her lap like she was protecting it.

“it means its cells that have very different reproductive properties.” she says as she looks at him with a serious look on her face, like she wasn’t talking about mushroom cells.

his brows furrow even more, what the hell did that even mean? what the fuck is a mushroom doing having sex? he thinks to himself as he shakes his head at her, “i’m still lost.”

she pinches her brows and sighs, “okay, so…” and she begins explaining the cells of a mushroom and in other fungi as best as she can and as simply as she can.

when she finishes he just stares at her and blinks with his blue eyes, “don’t be mad but i zoned out for like half of what you just said.” he says with a small chuckle.

she groans and shakes her head, obviously frustrated, “i’m not explaining it to you anymore. watch your show.” she says in an angry voice as she opens her book back up where its bookmarked and starting to read again.

he clicks his tongue, “no no,” he reaches over and grabs her book, keeping it bookmarked and sitting it on the coffee table in front of them. “i just don’t have a degree in microbiology, baby. my IQ is not…as high as yours.” he says in a soft voice as he rubs a hand over her knee.

she just listens to him, blinking her eyes over in his general direction as she shifts on the couch. “it doesn’t mean i don’t want to understand, god, i would love to understand. i would go back to school and learn everything about microbiology just to talk to you about it.” he proclaims as he looks at her with nothing but love in his blue eyes.

“i would relearn everything and get a degree in microbiology and learn just to understand your work, the books you read and just what it’s like to be inside your brain.” he says softly as he rubs his thumb over her knee, keeping her eyes on his as he speaks with such conviction that it makes her heart want to burst right out of her chest.

“so don’t think for one second that i don’t take interest and tune everything out, i always want to understand and i will spend the rest of my life trying if it means i get to be with you and love you.” he says with a small smile as he feels himself remain breathless in a sense at his own confession.

the words tumbling out of his mouth like he was going on a rant about something, like he was passionate about this. and he was, he needed her to understand.

“the day i met you in that coffee shop, i knew just from looking at that book you were reading…i knew it would be hard. but god, has it been so worth it baby.” he says with a small warmth in his blue eyes that only bloomed for her. the heat from his hand on her knee and the way his words bursted her into flame, it was enough to melt the snow of the blizzard outside.

“everything about you is worth it, even if i don’t understand. i’ll never fully understand but that doesn’t mean i won’t try.” he says with a squeeze to her knee, she blinks up at him and feels her heartbeat accelerating.

“i love you.” she breathes. she had said it to him a million times before in the past two years but it felt like it was needed in this context, like she needed to say this to him. just so that his words that he spoke were not lost on her.

he nods slowly and pulls her closer into his lap, settling his hands over her waist, thumbing at the skin underneath her sweater. “i love you too.” he says softly, “i mean every single thing i just said.” he says gently, his words like a caress and a reassurance that she wasn’t sure she needed until then.

she nods and sighs softly, “i know.” she whispers as she moves her lips to his again, leaning up a little bit from where she was sat in his lap. his thumb sweeping over the skin of her hip, igniting her body into even more flames. she moves her lips over his soft ones, kissing him with intention that wasn’t mindless.

he kisses back, used to the way his lips melded with hers. everything between them, this connection that they had was unlikely. but it was theirs and it went beyond science.

it was love, it was the cells around the hearts they had, the beating of them for only each other. she would kiss him a million times just to prove that point until there was nothing left within her.

until she was just a bunch of frazzled nerve endings, she would kiss him and love him. let him have her in every inch, every scenario and even if the hypotheses was scary and didn’t make sense.

she’d love him unconditionally, the same way he loved her. until both of the cells around their heart fizzled out and died.

she was never letting that go, not now and not in a million years, the probability was there. she didn’t care, not when he loved her and it consumed her in a way that should be studied.

and even if that scared her, she didn’t care. she had him and that was good enough in her heart and brain to keep loving him.

until the cardiomyocytes died out.

an: i hope you liked this, i tried my best to incorporate what you asked for anon :,) had to ask my mom a million questions to get an idea of what i was getting myself into with this oneshot request. but i love you all, please reblog, like and my taglist and masterlist are linked at the beginning. i love you all, kisses. xx. <33

taglist: @heartsforvin @elihii (go to my linked post to join the taglist)

[seraphdreams]

NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.

— WORD COUNT. 4.0k

— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!

— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.

Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.

Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.

A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.

In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.

Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.

“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.

“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..

“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”

If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.

“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.

Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.

—

Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.

When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.

“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”

You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.

This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.

You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.

Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”

Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”

You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.

Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?

Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.

After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.

They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.

The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.

“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?

Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.

A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.

“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.

Very pretty.

“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.

“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.

“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.

“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”

So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?

Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”

Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.

“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.

“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.

Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.

“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.

It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.

You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”

“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.

“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.

It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”

Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”

He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.

Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.

God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.

Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”

A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”

Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.

“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.

The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.

There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.

Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?

Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.

Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.

It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.

“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.

It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.

The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”

Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”

“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”

He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.

A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.

— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.

After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.

“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”

[yaut-jaknowit]

How about a human womans gets pregnant with a yautja (They are probably in a lab). The male escapes and takes her back to his clan and hands her off to the females of the clan. And instead of falling in love with the male, the sire of the unborn pup. the human womans gets together with another female who is teaching the ways of the yautja. Maybe the male stops by here n there...

Lose Yourself

Pairings: Male Yautja x AFAB!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 4039

Summary: Four concrete walls have been your sight for the last year. Caregivers and doctors see you every day to ensure your heath. Then three months ago, they introduced you to him. A creature not from this world that you can tell. He does not speak but the two of you have an understanding and one another.

Author Note: When this popped up in my feed, I started to bounce off of the walls like a crazed animal. I love this idea so much. In the future, I would love to write out a whole story like this. For now, I'm just going to do at least two parts, maybe three for this.

Part 2

Masterlist

Ao3

Blaring sirens jolt you back into reality. Your heart instantly leaps into your throat and lodges itself there. The whites of your eyes clear even in the limited light of the dingy cell you dared to call home.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around your knees and carefully watched the only entrance and exit to this singular, minute room. The alarm meant something. Terrible things. Nothing ever good came from it. Your head was plastered to the tops of your knees as you observed for any incoming threat.

This wasn’t a horrible life. Three meals a day; seen by doctors – or at least what looked to be doctors – practically every day; clothing on your body. But the fact you weren’t allowed to leave the room unless they wanted you or you didn’t have anything to stimulate your brain. Just an animal on the verge of insanity, forced to be driven there with no relief.

The people who keep you locked in here are the only people you are able to interact with. It’s one sided. You lost your will to try and gain any words besides the casual ‘how are you feeling today?’ from them. They might mix it up after some time but it was always the same doctor-patient relationship.

Out of everything here though, what caught your attention was the thing they brought you to a few times before. Everything about him is locked down and sealed tight from both sides. Not even a name from the lumbering giant.

From the limited times you’ve got to interact with him, you’ve learned he wasn’t a nice character. At first, he had nearly torn you apart before he had jerked to a stop. Akin to a horrified look passed over his alien features and he backed away. After that day, he’s been reasonable to be around. For some reason, your ‘caregivers’ love to know how you interact with him or what he’ll do if… you were some sort of danger.

Not the most protective creature, he’ll snarl and growl if the guards are too rough with you. His chains prevent him from doing anything physical. Once you are completely alone with him though, the chains that keep him locked to the wall are slackened. He’s now allowed to move about the vicinity as he seems fit.

Move he does. He stalks, prowls around the room, searching for any way for escape. They way he moves gives you the hint he’s this predator, like a lion hunting its prey. When you watch him, you admire him and prowess.

Wishful thinking makes you pray for him to find a weakness and escape from this horrid place. The chains on his wrists are more than tight. It’s daily occurrence blood drips from cuts. He tries to hide it, obscure it from sight but the eyes are the window to the soul. You are able to read his pain, every wince when the chains rub just a hair too much. You worry about him, this creature that was no human.

The first time he allowed you to touch him was a miracle. When the session was over, you were immediately yanked from the premises and shoved into a different room. Your caregivers began to berate and demand answers on why he was allowing you such contact. As the clueless person you are, you just shrugged your shoulders.

That night, they left you with a few more bruises than usual.

The door swung open and revealed a guard and a caregiver. Same protocols as always. You were taken from your room and swiftly led further down to what you believed to be the lowest level of this complex. The entire way there, you were compliant and willing. You’ve done your fair share of fighting, everything in your power to leave this place.

But it never worked. It wasn’t truly accepting your fate but going along the motions. Your mind has long grown numb, completely stale to everything. It needed stimulation but no one offered that.

A quick shove had you toppling onto your hands and knees. A loud snarl and rattling chains, metal creaking from tremendous amount of weight thrown against echoed in the limited space. You hissed at the new wounds on your knees and whipped your head up.

Though weakened from lack of food and proper exercise, the alien was straining against the shortened chains. His blazing eyes were on you, taking in everything your caregivers did to you.

With a click, the thick steel door latched shut and trapped you in here with him. You sighed and stood back up while taking a glance behind you. The only entrance to the room sealed off until they choose to retrieve you. Until then, you calmly walked over to the ashen, grey alien and sat down close by. A respectful amount of space placed between the two of you.

Two more clicks entered the air. The chains that once locked him to the wall slackened and allowed the predator free range.

He instantly stalked over to you and knelt down. You picked up your head to find his eyes still on your sitting form. His gaze flicked down to your scrapped knees.

Those strange mandibles of his, or fangs could be a better word, didn’t offer any lips to form words. Not English at least. He seems to speak in his own but neither of you could truly understand one another in words. Instead, gestures got you farther in this strange friendship you’ve created with him. He was the only being in this forsaken place to offer niceties.

You reached to the fresh wound. Blood already dotted the scrapped skin. Nothing that cried for a bandage. Not that you would get in the end. “It’s alright,” you reassured him and threw a thumbs up at him. A sign he’s learned meant everything was fine.

He hovered still and stayed sat on his haunches at your side. A little unusual for the predator always on the move. When he was with you, ninety percent of the time he is prowling the given space and observing the door. You didn’t need to be told he was searching for his escape.

One animal, spirit lost to the solidarity. 

Another animal, always moving, always searching.

It didn’t take further than five more seconds for your gaze to drop and head to lean against the cool wall. It was colder in this room than even the halls that lead to here. You’ve pondered the reasons but have never come up with something concrete.

Warmth cupped your cheek and tilted your head back up to the only figure in this room. Your jaw dropped at the touch, eyes widening while you could only stare at the alien.

Once he found your eyes, he leaned in, diverted slightly to the side, and placed his alien mouth next to your ear. “I will get us out of here,” he whispered barely a fraction over his breath. You gasped in reaction, ready to spew questions when his thumb pressed against your lips. The words died in your throat before they could become sound.

Then, he nuzzled his mandibles to the crook of your neck and pulled back. The whole interaction had you puzzled but slightly scared shitless. Thise sharp fangs so close to your throat, knowing they could rip it out if he wanted. But instead, he promised your escape.

Escape.

It was like he offered you a sack of gold as a peasant.

“Please,” you murmured back and against the pad of his thumb. He grunted then stood up. The chains rattled at the movement and clacked against the ground. You saw the way his hands twitched at his sides when the sharp edge dug into his already sore flesh. Thick, raised scars would be left in its wake. That, you were sure of.

The alien moved away from you and began his pacing. It was the same pathing he always took. He looked high and low. You stayed there on the ground despite it hurting your lower back and watched him. As he moved, the hope that bubbled inside of your chest began to dwindle. Maybe he didn’t have a plan just yet or even the start of one.

You missed the feeling of the sun on your skin, the smell of fresh air. Freedom. That’s the base core you craved the most while in the pits of this place. You had no plans for escape. It didn’t look like he did either.

A hand ran through your knotted locks and started to work out the small rats' nests growing. He had spoken to you. Spoke English. After all the times you’ve been in contact with him, he finally speaks up and says that. But why did he say it so quietly?

Your eyes darted around the room, hiding behind your lashes. Four cameras. They left no space unseen. Did he not want anyone to know he could speak your language? I huffed and drew your knees while resting your chin on them.

Another click drew you from well of your thoughts. A sound you’ve heard before. The chains began to sucked back into the wall and dragged the struggling alien back to his original place. You watched with a sorrowful gaze, knowing every pull cut deeper into his forever bleeding cuts.

Before he could officially trapped back to the wall, he lunged at you and trapped your now quiver form to him. His body was a few degrees warmer than the room itself. The textured scales that covered him from head to toe rubbed against your back. You gave a yelp and struggled at first but stopped, hoping he wouldn’t harm you after all this time.

The first time you met flashing in your mind. What had stopped him?

His grasp on you wasn’t harsh or demanding, but firm, not allowing you slip away from him. The claws that tipped his fingers looked they could gut you like a fish. Yet, he ensured they didn’t dig into your skin.

The chains stopped once he was pulled to the wall but with you still in grasp. The door was ripped open and in poured seven heavily armed soldiers, guns directed at the two of you. You screamed and tucked into his chest and seek protection from the only friendly figure here. His arms tightened around in a secure manner. A deep rumbled beginning to grow from the depths of his chest.

In walked the main caregiver for you and him. You submissively bowed your head, afraid to look her in the eye and feel her wrath; or be knocked out and wake up in pain again.

The woman wearing a white coat looked down her nose at your meek form then gazed up at the predator trapping you. “You won’t hurt her,” she stated with a voice honeyed and sweet. How could she be so sure of something unknown? Even you didn’t know what his intentions were.

Warm, callused finger ensnared your throat. Your heart jumping and thumping against the digits holding your life. A whimper breaking free of your cracked, cry lips. The arm still wrapped around your torso  tightened but the hand rubbed the area behind your back. You inhaled sharply and slackened in his hold.

She marched forward and only left a space between her and you that dared him to take the lunge. “It’s against your honor code, isn’t it?” Your brows furrowed at the new information, unsure of what this ‘honor code’ entailed but hoped it truly meant he won’t kill you.

He growled and sent vibrations up your spine. Goosebumps were left in its wake. You shuttered and pressed yourself more into him.

Harsh, vile clicks and snarls sounded from his alien throat as he spat alien words at the doctor. An unamused gaze fell on her face while the grey creature said his piece.

When the sounds ceased and he breathed heavily, she used a finger to wipe spit off of her face and flicked back at him. “Are you done?” she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Your kind is so predictable. Quick to surge with rage and believe themselves to be high and mighty. Not for much longer.” You wanted to somehow shrink even more against him but there was not even a molecule of space to take up.

“Now, hand over the subject and we’ll still feed you tonight. And if you don’t… well, that’s for me know and you to find out.” You shuttered at her words, hand finding his arm and squeezing it. He returned the action with his arm still wrapped around your torso.

An action she saw. Her posture sagged then she spun around and walked behind the seven soldiers. They were used as a wall of protection.

“Retrieve the subject. Don’t kill either of them. Harm is okay,” she gave the order you knew was about to occur. Your eyes instinctively shut as you prepare for bullets to begin flying.

A deafening roar rattled your brain. Metal snapped. The heat you were once pressed against was gone. The pure instinct to search it out strong before your brain could register the scene unfolding in front of your trembling form. Your feet glued to the spot.

Even though he’s lost some of his muscular physique, this lethal giant showed off his strength and prowess. He had already thrown one of the soldiers into a wall, a dent left in its wake. Another was meeting the business end of this predator… and loosing not only the fight but their life as well.

Blood sprayed across the ground in a terrifying arch. The ruby red a sight you weren’t prepared to see. His claws causing the damage to be dealt and valuable life essence to be spilled at your feet. The same claws that had been wrapped around neck so softly moments before.

Bright pops of light and ear-bleeding claps left you dizzy in where you stood. You stumbled back and rested your shoulder against the cool concrete wall. The scene before you continuing to unfold as if you didn’t even exist.

It swiftly became a blood bath. The seven soldiers she brought into here were desecration into nothing more than piles of shredded meat and bleeding blood bags on the ground.

The horror that morphed over her usually neutral face was satisfying to say in the least. The fact she wasn’t going to be able to step out of this room dawned upon her. You watched as the color drained from her face with each step backwards.

Unlike you, she was trapped and at the will of the alien that bore his gaze down on her. You may be pressed against the wall like her, but you were safe, not afraid of him spinning around and mistaking you as one of them. You knew it in your heart he was following through with his promise. You’ll see the light of day again, breathe the fresh air of the day. Strangely enough, you felt giddy.

“You can’t do this! I’m unarmed!” she screamed at him and pointed a trembling finger at the grey alien. What’s with that? Does it have to do with this ‘honor code’ she spoke about before?

Oh, but he could. In a terrifying millisecond, your eyes couldn’t register what had truly happened. Her body laid motionless at the feet of the lumbering alien. Her back faced you, her head was turned towards you. The cold, lifeless blue eyes of hers stared blankly, unfocused.

Dead.

You released a shuttering breath and timidly looked at him. Said creature stood back to his full height and rolled his dense shoulders. The muscles that lined his shoulders and back rippling at the motion.

Then, the alien spun on his heel and marched over to you. For a scared shitless moment, you best believed you were about to receive the same treatment. What stopped him from doing so?

He came to a stop before you and offered you a hand. “We are getting out.” Words of English were rumbled at you. Your eyes flicked down to the open palm. The freedom you begged for since the day you arrived here was standing before you. Not in a form you were expecting.

You took his hand.

One moment, the ground was touching the bottom of your feet. The very next, your legs had to wrap around a wide frame, arms snug around his throat. His back to your chest. He patted your forearm. “Hold on tight. Do not let go,” he ordered then marched towards the door.

It was closed, still sealed. What was he going to do about that?

That had to a be stupid thought after watching him massacre the entire room. Clearly he had an idea, some plan to get you two out of here. As much as you hated to this, it gutted you, you trusted him fully to release you from this prison.

Carefully, he crouched down and grabbed a key card from a pocket of the doctor. Red from his hands smeared onto the thin piece of plastic. He held it up to a small area next to the door.

With a whoosh, the door opened. The moment it did. All the white lights suddenly flashed to red. A horrifying screech entered the air before going into a low pitch then back up. It continued to do this while he carried him and you into the hall.

His head whipped side to side, thoughts determining which way to go. You perked up at this and motioned for him to go left. “The stairs are next to the elevator,” you reasoned with him. He grunted and began to full on sprint in the given direction. This hundreds of pound of flesh barreled down the hallway like a semi-truck. Nothing could stop him unless he wanted to stop.

A ninety degree came up. The alien just slid and used an arm to keep himself from slamming into the wall. He continued on. You buried your face into his neck, ignoring the strange rubbery dreads that slapped against your head and face with each of his steps.

The hallway led him to the necessary door. He didn’t even try the handle when he full on kicked it down. The metal screeched as it was torn from the hinges and laid to rest at the bottom of the stairs. With that out of the way, he leaped easily over it and took three steps at a time.

The alarm still blared its horrible tune and forced a headache to pound inside of your skull. You whined and scrunched your nose, unable to relieve yourself of the noise.

Over the noise, you heard the tall tell sign of thundering footsteps. You tensed up, breath shuddering and catching in your throat. In reaction, you go to open your mouth and speak of the discovery. A single finger was held up in your line of sight. You closed your trap and hunkered back down.

He launched himself up a flight of stairs and crashed into something hard. Gunfire sounded less than ten feet away. A bullet never hits you as he powered through a sea of bodies. You kept yourself locked onto his back like a monkey for dear life. You don’t know if he would come back for you if you were to fall off. Or if a soldier may just kill you to solve half of their problems.

Warm, slightly substance latched onto your arms. You shuttered, already coming to the conclusion of what it is.

Dying, horrified screams echoed off the halls. They decreased in amount and volume until the last one was silenced.

A new quiet filled the air besides the heavy breathing from the beast you clung to. Ringing echoed inside of your ears and worsened your headache. You groaned and clenched your hands into a tight fist.

He moved on.

You were brought back to reality as the warmth tinglingly the back of your neck and arms. Confused, you picked up your head and opened your eyes.

Bright light first had you flinching but powering through the pain. Sunlight greeted you. Its light painful at first but warmth more than welcomed. Your jaw dropped at the sight now before you.

A vessel… No. A space craft. A UFO. And it had to be his.

The alien didn’t stop moving across the short field that took him less than ten seconds to clear reach the feet of the ship. He slammed his fist against the belly of it. A screeching hiss entered the air.

A slab of metal began to peel itself away from the belly of the craft and angle one end towards the ground. The sight something you would see from Star Wars. You could only watch in amazement as the alien marched up the ramp. He rushed his way through the insides and took expert turns until he reached the cockpit. His feet skidded to a stop at a console and hands flying across the panels.

You pulled yourself up higher and watched. He pressed buttons and started the engines.

They rumbled to life under his feet. The ship waking up from an unknown amount of rest.

Hanging off of his back, you spotted movement through the glass window before you. A hoard of soldiers poured from the facility you had broken out of. A cold sweat dripped down the length of your spine at the sight. You tapped rapidly on his shoulder to gain his attention. “We’ve got company,” you warned, voice wavering.

The creature scoffed and turned his head enough to meet your eyes. “Not for long,” he answered. A smirk that you didn’t need to see was evident in his voice. He reached over and grabbed a throttle. Pressure was added to the stick.

Power was fed into the engines. Their sounds gaining in volume. You felt it before you noticed the fact the craft was starting to lift off the ground. The people rushing towards the two of you doubled their efforts as they began to grow smaller.

Something hit the roof and prevented the vessel from gaining anymore height. The creature just scoffed and added extra power to the engines.

Metal groaned and gave way. The ship returned to its form ascent into the sky. You release a sob of relief while the two of you continued to climb into the sky. The prison left behind as everyone could only watch your escape.

Once blue skies transitioned to black and sparkles shining through, he released the tension in his shoulders then patted your forearm. “You can get down now,” he said and knelt down. The warm metal floor touching the bottom of your bare feet. You finally relented your hold on him and stretched out your muscles. Soreness sunk into your muscles after clinging to him for so long.

He turned around to look at you fully. The two of you taking the other in without the constant pressure of being under watch and locked into a room.

A smile broke across your dirtied features. It was slow, a small dribble of happiness filling your veins before it became a rush. You pumped your fists into the air and gave a lungful cheer that echoed back at you. Damn that headache, you could care less about it when freedom was returned to you at last.

Close to the end of your excitement, an ear-piercing roar sounded with your call. You stopped abruptly and looked at the alien. His head was tipped back, fangs fully widened. You let the smile return and gave a hearty call again. You deserved it after all the shit you’ve endured while at the prison.

The roar died off. You cut yours as well and returned to studying him again. Despite not knowing who or what he was, you could trust him completely. He had fought off the advances of the soldiers and kept you safe. It was impossible in the moment to wipe off the smile on your face. You didn’t even dare to try and knew it would be futile.

Freedom at last.

[eros-ghoulette]

Can you write something about Aether finding his place in the ministry after being a band ghoul for so long? I miss my man :(

(if not that's chill tho)

Five weeks.

Aether has reasons to retire, but it's still hard to do so. (Aether has anxiety)

Characters: Aether, Omega, Delta

Word count: 1450

One week.

One week since the band had left the abbey, and Aether looked up at the sky, stars reflecting in the dark purple of it; a galaxy of its own. The brightest star shone white in the black of the night, spending light in the hours of darkness.

There was a sigh, barely audible, and the quint looked down at his hands. While the stars were among others, he was alone. It had been the right decision to quit playing in the band, and still… the question remained. It haunted him more often than not and made him feel bad when happiness should reign. Was he wrong? Was the decision, his decision, the wrong one? Should he be there, on the road, on the stage? Was Phantom really ready to bear such a role?

And there it was… the anxiety he had hoped to cure by stepping down, by giving his place to the young one, it was back. And it hurt.

The last tour had made Aether feel the real impact of being in a band. He had started to doubt himself, counted every mistake, and overthought every action and movement. His joints started to hurt for hours after a show, the small bunks in the bus not helping at all.

It had been the right thing to retire.

But the anxiety wasn’t gone. It had been, for the time he was at home and with the others, and then a few days more. And now he couldn’t even pinpoint the reason for it. The point was, he was alone and felt helpless, and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Two weeks.

Two weeks since the band had left the abbey, and Aether looked down at the phone in his hands. Pictures from the latest ritual Dew had sent him. The quint felt his chest tighten and put his phone aside.

“Do you want to help me in the infirmary today?”

Omega stood in the door, arms crossed over his chest, but his gaze was soft. The older ghoul knew Aether was feeling alone, lost even. He saw the younger’s face, watched it for days now, and he knew he had to do something. In times of turmoil, when the brain screamed, and the heart throbbed, in times like these, it was hard. And everything ached because the mental exhaustion couldn't keep up and transferred to the muscles and joints; so it would hurt less. To spread the pain on everything instead of keeping it in one place. But that’s not how it worked. That’s how physics worked, not creatures. And instead of making it less, it just got less bearable.

“Alpha said he has better things to do than do my paperwork every day,” Omega added with a smirk. “And no, I don’t want you to do my paperwork. You could help with the patients while I do the paperwork.”

Truth be told, Aether had no real desire to do anything today. But he also had no intention of turning the other’s request down and nodded.

“Sure,” he simply said, and stood up from the table. Aether had breakfast half an hour ago, but the energy to actually get up hadn’t been there. Now he had a reason to stand up. His phone slipped into his pocket as he walked next to Omega.

* * *

Three weeks.

Three weeks since the band had left the abbey, and Aether lay in his bed; awake. He had trouble sleeping, not much but enough to keep him up till late night. The quint guessed the reason for it was his desperate need for touch. He longed for it, every cell of his body wanting it so badly it overwhelmed him.

He could go to Ifrit and Zephyr, those two would most likely welcome him with open arms, but Aether felt like a burden at the bare thought of it. It’s not that he wanted sex, he wanted affection. Quiet words of praise, whispered in the night, almost just breathed and filled with soft tenderness. Physical affection, a body to hold, warm limbs intertwined with his, hands to stroke his belly and lips to kiss his forehead.

And still… That longing was hard to overcome when there was no one to give such affection. But his mind got calmer this past week, his body ached less, and his heart throbbed not so much anymore when he thought of his pack. The work in the infirmary was good. He talked much with Omega and Alpha often came by to join them. The tall fire ghoul may claim he hated paperwork, but he still helped when he could.

* * *

Four weeks.

Four weeks since the band had left the abbey, and Aether cried. Choked sobs left his throat, making it burn. Tears, unshed for too long, wetting his cheeks, seeping into his shirt. His hands trembled, body shaking, and he forced himself to breathe; just breathe. One rattling breath after another; in and out. And after minutes that felt like an eternity, he managed to stop.

A knock.

He flinched and listened. Breathe in… another knock. Breathe out.

“It’s open.” The quint’s voice was hoarse, nothing like his usual self. But whoever stood in front of his door would come in nonetheless, so why try to act tough?

And when the door opened, he scoffed at the ghoul that greeted him. Delta was no one he talked to often. It wasn’t that he didn’t like him, they just had no real connection with each other.

“I passed by and heard you,” the other explained. “Sorry if I’m uhm… I could leave if you like.” An awkward smile formed on his lips, and he looked incredibly unsure of himself.

Aether shook his head.

“No, you can stay,” he answered before he could think of anything else. There was a fondness in Delta’s gaze that made Aether trust him enough. And maybe he wanted it, he wanted someone to comfort him. Someone he wouldn’t need to search out for, someone that came by themselves, and here he was. Delta was here.

“May I sit?” the older one asked and pointed at the corner of the bed.

Aether nodded.

Delta moved, and the mattress dipped under his weight. He wasn’t looking at the younger.

“I know how you feel,” he began. “At least I think I do, kinda.”

Aether stayed quiet.

“You know? Your anxiety is smellable to everyone, but most just… don’t know what to do. Your pack would know I guess, but they aren’t here, so… I had the same problem, or I still have the problem from time to time.” He shrugged and sighed. “It gets better. You probably feel better even now after this… breakdown.”

“Mhh,” Aether made. He actually felt kinda better.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t bottle it up. But we all do that, and you won’t stop just from my saying. And I’m obviously not good at all this,” Delta chuckled a bit. “But how about I just stay here for a while, and we get to know each other?”

* * *

Five weeks.

Five weeks since the band had left the abbey, and Aether laughed at a joke Omega made while they cleaned up the infirmary room together. His phone rang, and Aether looked at it to find new pictures from his pack, Dew had sent.

And while it was still kinda sad that he was here, and they were there, he was sure now it had been the right decision. Talking to Delta and working with Omega made him happy. Last night, Delta had cuddled with him, and the desperate need for touch had been gone for those hours. Three days ago, Alpha and he had played guitar together, and it had been fun.

“Can you do the paperwork today?” The puppy eyes Omega could pull were hard to resist, and Aether rolled his eyes.

“Can you get me a sandwich for lunch?” he asked back and received a grin.

“On my way,” Omega saluted playfully and left the infirmary.

Aether sat behind the desk, humming a song. He was in a good mood, a great mood. The tightness in his chest was gone, and his mind stayed quiet. There were moments he thought it all might return, but even then… he now knew he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t lost. He was here, and his pack was there, but they would return, and he would still be here. The infirmary needed him, and he needed the tasks it set. And while he had that, he would be fine. It could be hard, but he had friends to rely on, and that was enough. This was his place now, a damn good one.

__________

I really hope this whole thing here is understandable 💀

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[amourane]

Hi Yves, thank you for writing such great fics for us! I noticed you haven’t written anything for Blaise so is it ok to request for him?

Blaise and y/n are aurors and “rivals” bcs they think they’re better than e/o. They had to go to a mission tgt and she got hurt/almost got hurt but tried to play it cool while Blaise was so protective (swooning rn).

If you’re uncomfy writing Blaise you can also make it as Theo.

Much love xx

hexed hearts

pairing: blaise zabini x gn!reader

genre: fluff, aurors au, post hogwarts

w/c: 1.6k

summary: hate was a very strong word and it was the word you would use to describe blaise zabini perfectly.

warnings: swearing, you get hit with a hex and you bleed, nothing too graphic

a/n: tysm for requesting this anon!! i'm so happy you enjoy my writing and ofc you can request for blaise, this is my gift to you <3

Hate was a strong word. It was something that everyone said. Arguably it was a word most people used often without truly knowing just how strong the connotations were. No, you didn’t hate Blaize Zabini. You despised him with every single cell in your being. Not only was he a cocky asshole he was also determined to surpass you in everything. 

The two of you had been in the same year in Hogwarts and though you had only met when the both of you were 11 hatred had already been brewing. He was conceited and arrogant and snarky. All the things you hated. The rivalry between the both of you had only grown throughout the years, the tension pulling tighter and tighter.

Now, the both of you were aurors and no one got a wink of peace when the both of you were around.

“Can you not be an insufferable piece of shit for two seconds?” You snarled at his direction and when you see him sporting the same devilish smirk it only fuels your anger further.

“One. Two.” He holds his fingers up as he counts the seconds, mocking your emotions even more. “There, done. I know that you love me Y/n but you can’t even stay away from me for two seconds, that’s adorable.”

You lunged at him, anger bubbling over the top, ready to pounce on him and hex him into oblivion. Blaise was so annoying, so irritating and yet he was also so brain-numbingly handsome and smooth. You felt someone grab your shoulder stopping you just in time before you pummelled the man’s face in. 

“C’mon Y/n I can’t be the one cleaning up after the both of you again.” Harry sighed as he held you back. You watched as Blaise’s smug grin only widened as he leaned back into his chair. “The both of you are going to have to get along, there’s a mission for both of you.”

“But-”

“No buts Y/n, this one came from the guys above. You know how they are so you and Zabini are going to have to get along.” 

Harry didn’t say anything more as he left you standing there in disbelief. You didn’t even have a chance to refuse or even beg to not go. Blaise let out a low whistle as soon as the other auror left. He got up from his seat and made his way towards you, the shit-eating grin on his face only irritating you further. You scowled as he stopped just a few inches in front of you.

“Don’t be a pussy L/n, I’m sure you can resist my charms for a few hours.” He threw you a wink and you felt your skin crawl with disgust. Blaise was attractive, yes, but merlin how you wanted to just punch that annoying expression right off his face.

“You better not fuck this up Zabini or I swear to merlin-”

He cut you off before you could finish and rolled his eyes at the words you spat out. “I know, I know.” He shrugged his shoulders back before glancing at you again. Your glare met his eyes and you found yourself getting lost in his dark gaze. “You should know by now I don’t fuck anything up.”

With that, he snapped you out of your hazy thoughts. Your glare hardened and you scoffed at his arrogant statement. That was the last thing he said before disappearing behind you, leaving you to stew in your own anger. You had just been put together with your worst enemy on a mission. This was unbelievable.

//

The mission was a standard recon, yet the tension between you and Blaise made it anything but. Sneaking through the dense forest, you tried to focus on the task at hand and not the infuriating presence beside you. Blaise, for once, seemed focused, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

It wasn’t meant to be a hard mission, the both of you were skilled enough to handle any of the attacks that were hurled your way. Yet, everything happened so fast. One minute you were shouting hexes, pointing your wand at the danger before you. Blaise was beside you, his movements fluid and precise, something you had always envied. 

In the chaos, you didn’t see the hex coming. It hit you square in the chest, sending you sprawling to the ground, pain searing through your body. It hurt, it hurt a lot but you couldn’t let that stop you. This was a mission and every mission was treated with the utmost importance. There was no way that you were going to give up so easily. You gritted your teeth, trying your best to push yourself up and carry on. 

“I’m fine.” You muttered through clenched teeth as you struggled to stand. The pain only seemed to increase, spreading throughout your body quicker. “Just a scratch.”

Blaise’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, his expression shifting from annoyance to something you couldn’t quite place. “Bullshit, Y/N. You’re hurt.”

“I said I’m fine.” You insisted, ignoring the throbbing pain in your side. “Let’s just finish this.”

But Blaise wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm, his grip firm but not painful. “We need to get you out of here.”

“I don’t need your help, Zabini.” You snapped, trying to pull away, but your strength was waning.

“Stop being stubborn.” He growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re not dying on my watch.”

His words stunned you into silence. Before you could protest further, Blaise lifted you into his arms, carrying you with surprising gentleness. You could feel his heart pounding against your back, the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through him. Your own heart was beating just as fast and you tried to steady your laboured breathing. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but lean into him, exhaustion and pain overcoming your pride. 

As the two of you reached a safer area, he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he checked your wound. You winced when he pressed at your side and you turned to shoot him a glare but apologies were already tumbling from his lips. The concern in his eyes was undeniable, and it confused you. This was the same Blaise Zabini who had always been your rival, your nemesis.

“You’re going to be okay.” He said quietly, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He muttered a spell you assumed was to calm the bleeding that was seeping through your clothes. “Just hang in there.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled, not sure what else to say.

“Don’t mention it.” He replied, his usual smirk returning. “Just try not to get yourself killed next time. It’s a lot of paperwork.”

You rolled your eyes at his snarky remark, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain. “You wish.”

As the adrenaline wore off you found yourself more in tune with the pain as well as the lingering touches that Blaise left as he helped you. The forest was eerily quiet and you knew that the danger was no longer there yet the silence only made it more awkward between the both of you. Every once in a while you would meet his eyes and your eyes would lock with his for a second before he turned away.

It was weird.

You winced as you shifted, the pain in your side sharp and persistent. Blaise noticed immediately, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Let me see.”

You debated whether to refuse his request before giving in. “Fine.”

He knelt beside you, gently lifting your bloodied shirt to inspect the wound. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. The wound was deep, and the sight of it made you grimace.

“You’re lucky.” He murmured, his voice oddly tender. “A bit higher and it could have been much worse.”

“Guess I’ll have to thank you for that.”

Blaise looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the usual antagonism was absent, replaced by something softer, more intense. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. Just… try to be more careful.”

He was so close, his breath warm on your skin. Your heart kept the fast pace it had despite the fact all your adrenaline had already dissipated. He leaned closer towards you, fingertips grazing your wound and his touch somehow soothed the ache you felt.

“I mean it.” He whispered, his voice barely audible. “I hate watching you get hurt.”

“Blaise-” The words die in your throat and you can’t continue the sentence you so desperately wanted to say. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the same Blaise who had driven you crazy for years, yet here he was, showing a side of himself that left you breathless.

Before you could open your mouth to respond he had already closed the distance between the two of you. His lips brushed against yours for a tentative kiss. His lips were soft and you found yourself clinging onto him, desperate for the sweet sensation that he filled you with. It was gentle at first before it increased with intensity. The pain you felt disappeared and all you could focus on was the beautiful man in front of you.

When he finally pulled back the both of you were breathless. His eyes searched yours as if he was looking for confirmation if he had read the situation correctly. You took a shaky breath, your mind reeling from the intensity of the kiss.

“Maybe we don’t hate each other as much as we thought.” Your voice was soft, a small smile playing on your lips as your hands loop around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

Blaise’s expression softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “Maybe not.”

Silence enveloped you once again and this time it felt comforting. Blaise’s arms felt right around you, his warmth radiating off his body making you feel that much more safe. There was no longer the crackling animosity between the two of you.

“Told you you couldn’t resist my charm.”

“Shut the fuck up Zabini.”

[nqueso-emergency]

Alright Queso I’m dropping my own theory here. Feel free to delete it, I just need this all out before I self implode due to frustration.

I’m honestly so confused by the people being like “lol this is the last season!” due to pacing and Tim’s writing.

#1 ABC wouldn’t have spent the millions they did on the show for just one season. Peter and Angela were each getting over a million annually and the others were finally at the 100k per episode by contract negations during season 6. Even IF the Mouse House suddenly lost all of their brain cells and were like “yeah let’s pour an easy 20 mil [idk what the budget actually is but I’m assuming the salary alone is in the 10s of millions] into this production and just have it for one year”…. Why? Literally what good would that do for Disney/ABC? Like yeah, Disney doesn’t need to recoup losses, but still they want at least something close to being out of the red (unless 9-1-1 is sucking that much money out but I also don’t think they wouldn’t have taken it on if they were afraid of that). Also I highly doubt the actors and crew would have signed onto a year contract (circle back to previous point of “Disney wouldn’t have taken on a money sucking production”).

#2 as it’s been established, Tim writes by the seat of his pants. I think last season they had a rough game plan, then the strikes happened and it was too late to turn back when it came to drafts. By the time it came to filming, they couldn’t open, lead up to, and close the stories they wanted to tell in the 10 episodes. They didn’t know they would only have 10 episodes. They were writing what they wanted, then dealing with the timeline later. Fast forward a year and a half later, we’re left with them scrambling and everyone is now dealing with the effects of “okay here’s a resolution just trust us” (Ortiz v the Wilsons) as well as incredibly condensed stories (Gerard) so they can get to the stories they wanted to tell this season (Hot Shots, Eddie and Chris, Maddie and Chimney having another kid). Realistically, we’re NOW getting to the stories that should have been episodes 4 and 5. So yeah it’s rushed and probably will be for the better part of this season.

Regardless, my personal theory is, the writing is on the wall for Grey’s. The general public has been laughing about how Grey’s has jumped the shark 4 times over by now and everyone is kinda over it (both the show and Shonda). ABC knows this, but most importantly Disney knows this. But they can’t get rid of Grey’s until they have a show to take over for Grey’s. I think ABC got 9-1-1 to potentially take that power hour over. With how well Dr. Odyssey is doing and a potential spin off, in my very convoluted opinion, they’re looking at a way of building a new Shonda but instead it’s Ryan Murphy (even if he isn’t involved in the 9-1-1 sphere anymore the general public still knows the name Ryan Murphy).

I also am starting to question if Peter and Angela will leave (or have smaller roles) in the coming season. Between Bobby still dealing with Hot Shots, Athena hinting at retirement, and their house being built? I’m curious if they’ll pull a moment where the house is under construction, but it’s ~wherever Michael and David live~ so they get the happily ever after retirement and they’re setting up a season 9 where it’s “oh wow what will happen next!?”. Procedurals need a revolving cast and Peter and Angela have both mentioned moving on eventually. Why not now? Let them get the Disney money then leave (with guest appearances at reasonable times) opening a WHOLE LOT of potential things to t op about the 118.

Sorry for the novel. I’ve been thinking and have no one who will listen to my theories ❤️

Posting. But I'm not getting into this conversation 😅

[marigold-hills]

Dunes and Waters

PART 1 • NEXT PART

PART 2:

Here is the thing about living alone: the routines. Little patterns of behaviour, daily rituals. Like turning on the kettle for tea before going to brush your teeth. A cigarette smoked out the kitchen window while waiting for it to cool down. Cryptic crosswords in the morning paper.

Remus has been living by himself for six years, ever since his mum died and his dad decided he couldn’t live with the reminder, going off to travel the Scottish Highlands and never returning. And he likes it, Remus does; never mind if he’s in his tiny studio in London, his old university accommodation, or in this lovely hotel in Egypt. Being alone suits him.

This morning, his crossword is half (and incorrectly) completed. The water from the kettle emptied and not replaced. His cigarettes – of which he still had three, he’s certain – all gone.

Worst of all? Sirius Black, hair up in a knot held up with his wand, sprawled out onto Remus’ favourite windowsill smoking what must be his last cigarette.

He looks like a cover of an album. Framed by the morning sun. Velvet Underground would pay a fortune for a picture of him right now, dressed in a loose billowy shirt he’s procured from Merlin knows where, and nothing else but boxers. Andy Warhol would paint him like he painted Marilyn – obsessively, repeatedly. Immortalise how he flicks the cigarette, a bit of ash falling onto the windowsill. Runs a restless thumb down the line of his bottom lip. Hums to himself softly and Remus thinks I was right because even subdued like this, it truly is a voice to behold.  

“I didn’t know how you take your tea,” Black says in leu of greeting.

“With hot water, to start with.” The meaning (refill the damned kettle!) seems lost on him, as he goes back to watching the world outside the window.

Must be a strange thing, to be here. Yesterday, and for the last two months, he woke up in a tiny cell made even smaller by the range of the chain holding him down. The window too high up and too small to give sunlight or a view, and even if he’d managed to get up there, he’d only have seen the sunken walls surrounding the jail.

Remus refills the kettle (again) and turns it on (again).

“Might making me one too?”

And Remus is a polite person. His mother taught him to be. So he turns off the kettle. Adds enough water for another tea, and hopes that this time is the last time.

“I like it real sweet,” Sirius drawls, stretching his vowels like a cat after a sun nap. “Lots of sugar.”

“You can add your own.”

“So inhospitable. So cruel. I’m sick, you know?”

“Sick enough to smoke all my cigarettes. Did you take your potions at least?”

A sharp tiny smile, a break in the veneer. “Knew you wouldn’t mind, Professor. You look like a right standup guy. The kind that lends others his smokes and his tea.”

“Potions?” Remus doesn’t let the man derail him. It must be an insult, with the way Black says it, but the doctor asked him to keep an eye, and he promised.

Never mind that he really doesn’t want his work delayed if Black gets worse on account of his own stupidity. It’s too important. Too time-sensitive.

“Yes, yes. I’ve taken them. Scouts honour, Professor. Or should I call you Doctor, instead, hmm? I’m sure you have one of those as well.”

“A doctorate? No. Not yet.”

“Pity. Professor it is then.”

“Just Remus. Please.”

NEXT PART

NOTES:

So I’m not going with the prompts this month because they just REALLY didn’t fit this story, but should still have 500 word bits every day :)

im currently applying for jobs so can’t write as fast as I normally do (they all have tests! Or hackathons! So so long), but will keep updating hopefully as usual

i love love love cryptic crosswords. They’re confusing as hell and fry my brain in such a delightful way :):):)

how are we all surviving AO3 being down?

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

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