#I poured my heart to you and you just said you didn’t know what to say

[wandascrush]

Runaway Bride

Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst

Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen

You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 

   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 

   “Long time no see, Natty.” 

    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 

   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”

 “I’m so tired of missing you…and funny enough, I thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”

I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.

    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.

   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 

   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.

[xlovellydreams]

Reuniting 2

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Summary: Reuniting with Rhysand after Under the Mountain

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Words Count: 6.1k

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ PART 1

Note: Hi guys! Let me say – Thank you so so so so much! I did not expect so much love under my first post, so again, thank you so much!!! Here is part two!

𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃

He sat in the bath for what felt like hours. The water was hot. Scorching hot. But it felt good.

His skin was still tingling from the feeling of your touch and his body ached at the loss of your presence after holding you for so long. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily.

Gods, he was losing his mind. Fifty years had clearly not been kind to him.

Fifty years of being Amarantha’s plaything. Fifty years of being forced into submission. Fifty years of watching her, listening to her, touching her.

Fifty years without you. Not having you, not holding you, not being able to listen to you sing or hear your laugh.

Fifty years of her touch, fifty years of her voice. Of being forced to satisfy her. Of being her whore.

Fifty years without you, his mate.

Rhysand didn’t open his eyes again, just exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself. To push the thoughts of that woman from his mind.

He was home. He was free. She wasn’t here.

You were.

He scrubbed every inch of his skin. Trying to get all the traces of her away from him. He wanted her scent gone, wanted to smell like himself, like you. Reaching for the sweet-smelling body wash you always liked so much, he rubbed it against his skin.

For fifty years, all he’d think about every waking moment was you. Your face, your laughter, your smile, your soft touch, your scent. He had clung on to the memory of you, just to keep himself sane. Just to keep himself alive.

Gods, he was tired. So, so tired.

He pushed that thought away for now. He couldn’t give in to his exhaustion yet. Not when his family was waiting for him, downstairs. And most importantly, not when he owed you a kiss.

A kiss. So much more than just a kiss. He needed to kiss every inch of you, worship your whole body, hold you, touch you. He needed to feel you in his mind again, to be connected with you in every possible way.

Rhysand stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel, using it to furiously dry his skin. He looked better, that was for sure, but he still looked worn and tired. Grabbing a pair of dark pants and a shirt, quickly threw them on. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to get the unruly locks to stay down. Once his hair was somewhat in order he took another look in the mirror. Deep down he still felt dirty and definitely not convinced that he looked anywhere near presentable. His skin was paler than usual, looking almost sickly in comparison to before he went to Amarantha. He looked like he could benefit from another fifty years in bed.

Rhys felt almost hesitant as he left the bathroom and stepped back into his bedroom. A small part of him was scared that this whole day had just been a dream. That he’d get back into the bedroom and find it empty, or worse, find that witch there. Deep down he was so damn afraid that it is just a nightmare. Another horrible nightmare.

But then he smelt you.

His shoulders immediately relaxed a bit when the scent of you hit his nose. He immediately knew you were still here, waiting for him.

A second later he heard your laughter from downstairs. Rhys smiled at the sound of your laugh, that beautiful, sweet, sweet sound. The idea of seeing you with his family, his Inner Circle made his heart fill with warmth. It just felt right.

𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃

The Inner Circle was sitting around the table, as you brought another warm dish, wine already poured in every glass. “Just, don’t overwhelm him too much,” you said, mostly to Cassian, knowing he would be the first to throw punches.

Cassian let out a scoff as he heard you say that. He was already bouncing his leg impatiently, fidgeting eagerly in his seat.

Azriel sat silently, seemingly calm but with a hint of worry in his eyes. He, like Cassian, also seemed eager to see his High Lord, to see his brother after fifty years.

Meanwhile, Amren was quietly sipping on a glass of whatever was in it, seemingly unimpressed. Mor on the other hand was already reaching for another bottle of wine, clearly nervous.

Cassian let out a scoff at your words. “Who, me?” he asked, as if insulted by the fact that you would suggest he would ever do that.

“Don’t pretend as if you wouldn’t be the first one to go and tackle him” Azriel let out a small snort.

“I just want to give him the greeting he deserves!” protested Cassian, his arms out in the air.

Azriel let out another small scoff, clearly not very convinced. “That doesn’t mean you have to literally tackle him to the ground as soon as you see him, Cass.”

“You two behave” you glared at both Cassian and Azriel. “I am being serious here, give him space, as much as he needs.”

That was the main reason you told him to relax in the bath. The main reason you did not kiss him more. He still had his shields up, not letting you in. You had no idea what he had been through and all you wanted, was to respect his boundaries. Give him the space to breathe, and move around freely.

You wanted him to remember, that it was all over.

That he was home.

Both Cassian and Azriel fell silent at your glare. It was clear that you’d have no problem telling them off if they made any unwanted, unnecessary, or overdone gestures toward Rhysand. And the last thing either of them wanted was to upset you.

They both looked down silently, mumbling out a quick “yes ma’am” as if they were scolded children. Nothing new.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs drew everyone’s attention, and the air in the room suddenly became thick and tense with anticipation.

Rhysand finally appeared at the door, his eyes darting around the room. He took a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. The table, filled with his favourite foods, his family sitting around it all looking absolutely stunned to see him there in the doorway, alive and well.

No one spoke, everyone was silent, all eyes on him. It was as if they were all too scared to say something, as if they didn’t quite believe that he was truly standing there.

Like one wrong move, and everything would be gone.

Rhysand’s eyes landed on you, standing in the corner. Alive, safe, and unharmed, he thought.

And then, by some weird instinct, you reached, taking the hot soup out of the way, the same moment Cassian stood up, shaking the whole table, already charging at Rhys.

You rolled your eyes, groaning at that.

The movement of Cassian standing up immediately caught Rhysand’s attention. He knew his brother well, and by now, he knew what was coming. Cassian was out of his seat, and charging at him within seconds. And all Rhysand could do was brace himself for impact.

The impact came soon, and Rhys suddenly found his arms full with his massive, buff-ass brother. Cassian slammed into him so heavily, tackling him to the ground. His breath was knocked from his lungs and he let out a groan as his back hit the hard, wooden floor. The other Illyrian was on top of him, pinning him into place. Cassian’s chest heaved with emotion. A strange mixture of anger, worry, and relief.

“Get off!” Rhys forced out, pushing at his brother. But Cass was stronger than him and was sitting firmly on his chest.

“I’m just trying to give you a damn welcome,” he said with a huge grin on his face. “Fifty. Fifty years,” he breathed out, gripping Rhysand’s shirt tighter. “Fifty years you were gone.”

Rhysand felt his anger turn into guilt as he looked at his brother. He had known it would be hard on them when he was gone, when he was under her control, but seeing the pain in his eyes, knowing he was part of the reason for it made his heart ache.

He wanted to push Cassian off, to tell him to get a grip of himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Especially not when his brother spoke again.

“Fifty years of thinking we’d never see you again.”

Rhysand felt his heart ache more at Cassian’s words, his head was already spinning.

Fifty years. Fifty years he’d been forced to abandon his family. For fifty years he’d had to act as Amarantha’s whore. Fifty years of pretending to be anything other than free. Fifty years he had spent being tortured, and now he was here, finally here.

Finally home. Finally with his family again.

“Get off of me,” Rhysand grumbled. “You’re crushing me.” He looked up into Cassian’s hazel eyes, the pain behind them clear.

“Hell no,” retorted Cassian, not budging one bit. He was not moving away, not until he’d got that message through to Rhysand.

His breathing was coming out in short pants as he spoke. “How the hell do you think I feel? Fifty. Years. Fifty years I’ve had to deal with Az’s moodiness and Mor’s constant bitching, not to mention Amren. I nearly went insane, you prick.”

Rhys did not miss the tears that started building in his brother’s eyes.

“Cassian” you finally decided to chime in, your voice surprisingly soft. “Get up, food is still warm.”

Your soft but firm voice seemed to get through to him, and he slowly loosened his grip on Rhysand’s shirt. He stood up, not taking his eyes away from his brother, as if he was scared of him suddenly disappearing.

A second later, Rhysand was again a little overwhelmed as his family all stood up, wanting to hold him and hug him. But he allowed them to do so, knowing that they had needed this.

He needed this.

He felt Azriel’s hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly, as if making sure he was truly here. Azriel let out a shaky breath at the sight of Rhys. “Thank the Mother you’re back,” he said quietly, he pulled him into a hug, his embrace strong.

The second to reach him was Amren, who punched him on the shoulder, clearly trying to keep her facade of calmness together. But he could see the relief in her eyes.

Mor was the last one, hugging him so tightly he was certain she’d suffocate him. She was whispering something in his ear, and he could faintly hear the words, “I’m so sorry”. “Stop apologizing” he mumbled in her ear.

Rhysand felt overwhelmed with emotions. Seeing his family standing around him, holding him, squeezing him so tightly it was as if they were scared he’d disappear.

His eyes landed on you. Seeing you stare at everyone, at him, with a soft expression in your eyes, made his heart pang painfully, and all he wanted to do was to have you in his arms.

But he could wait, he reminded himself. He had waited fifty years, he could wait a few more hours.

Once everyone had finally released him, you gently pulled him to the table, and you all sat down.

Rhysand still couldn’t quite believe this. He was surrounded by his family, sitting down at a table filled with his favourite foods, and he had you with him.

It was so utterly surreal that he almost pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

You reached your hand for his under the table, and he immediately closed his fingers around yours. A simple touch. Rhysand’s body immediately relaxed. He let out a small breath, closing his eyes as he felt the familiar rush of comfort and calm he always felt whenever you touched him.

He gently stroked your skin with his thumb as he opened his eyes, turning to look at you.

“Good?” You whispered, only for him to hear, making sure he was alright.

Rhys felt a small thump in his chest. Gods, he was so in love with you. So in love with your soft, sweet voice whispering to him. So in love with the gentle concern in your tone. Still afraid of waking up suddenly, waking up with that red-haired monster.

Home. He was home. With his family. With you.

He let out another breath, feeling the last of his tension and stress drain out of him at your question. So he squeezed your hand slightly in response, a smile on his face. “Good,” he whispered back, his eyes never leaving your face.

You smiled more, nodding your head as you reached for a glass of wine. He leaned back in his chair, his hand still in yours, as he watched the banter go back and forth between everyone. Watching as they all ate some of his favourite foods. The rich, warm stew you had made, along with a variety of other dishes.

Rhys couldn’t believe he had been the luckiest bastard in Prythian. Getting to come back home and seeing you, his mate, still here, waiting for him. And he’d be damned if he didn’t make good on his promises.

HOURS LATER.

You laughed so loudly, so hard that a few tears rolled down your cheeks. Just because of one of Cassian’s stupid jokes. But you were laughing for the first time in forever. Rhysand couldn’t help but crack a small smile. It was so good to see you laughing again.

His body felt warm, full from all the food, and light after the many glasses of wine he had drank. But more than anything, he felt utterly at peace for the first time in fifty years. There were no responsibilities weighing him down, no Amarantha forcing him to perform. He was simply relaxing, at home with his family, like he should’ve been fifty years ago. There was still a small part of him that couldn’t believe it. A small part of him was scared this was all a dream, or just a hallucination, or something else, and that he’d be yanked back to the reality of Under The Mountain. But the feel of your soft hand on his shoulder, the sound of Amren’s amused scoff at one of Cassian’s jokes, it all felt so real, in a way that could only mean that this was, in fact, very much real.

A small yawn escaped his lips, and he quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t that the late hour was affecting him too much - he had been forced to stay up much, much later than this on multiple occasions - but rather that all the food and wine, the relaxed atmosphere, made him feel sleepy. He tried not to let it show, not wanting to break the relaxed mood, not wanting to go to bed.

“I’m glad you find it so entertaining,” came Cassian’s voice from the other side of the table, a pout clear on his face.

Rhysand snorted. “And I’m glad to see your sense of humor is still as bad as ever.”

You giggled softly, shaking your head, “Perhaps we should go and rest,” you said, of course noticing the tired look in his eyes. He felt a pang of affection in his chest as he heard your suggestion.

Of course, you would notice that he was tired, would worry even if he didn’t say anything. You were always so aware of his every need and emotion. And the last thing he wanted was to worry you.

He gave a small nod, a slight yawn escaping his lips.

“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” he said, giving you a small, tired smile.

The words had barely left his mouth before Cassian let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly not happy to hear the fun was over. “Gods, just go make out already,” he said, a suggestive smirk on his face. “We all know that’s all you two want to do tonight anyway.”

You blushed softly at his words, “Cassian!”

Rhysand let out another low chuckle as he saw you blush at Cassian’s words.  You were so cute, he thought. He missed seeing you blush.

Cassian let out a small huff at your reaction, his smirk growing bigger. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms behind his head, his wings relaxed behind him.

You groaned, looking up to Rhys. He noticed your gaze on him and immediately realised what you were thinking. He saw the blush on your face, and the pleading look in your eyes.

He then let out a huff and looked towards Cassian. “And on that wonderful note,” he said, “everyone out. Go find somewhere else to be for the night.”

He didn’t wait to see if they obeyed. Rhys gently took your hand and winnowed you both back to your bedroom. To the room, you couldn't bring yourself to be in for the last fifty years.

This was the same bedroom he hadn’t seen for fifty years. The same bed where you had both slept peacefully together for so many years. The same room where he had shared so many quiet, intimate moments with you.

His eyes scanned the room as he looked at everything, taking in how much it had stayed exactly the same. It was almost surprising just how much it reminded him of better times. He took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent of you, of the room. It was all so incredibly you, and it made him feel so at home that his eyes fluttered shut for a moment in contentment.

You squeezed his hand gently, “It was so cold in here without you.”

Rhysand instantly felt his body tense at your words. “Don’t...” he breathed out, his eyes still closed. He didn’t want to hear about how cold the room had been, how cold and lonely you had felt. The mere thought of it twisted his gut unpleasantly, making his heart clench.

He forced himself to open his eyes, turning to look at you. Your eyes had grown slightly glassy as you spoke, the memories obviously fresh in your mind as he saw it. Your shields of course down and you were trying to push the thought of you lying in this cold and empty room away. Of you lying in bed every night, not getting sleep, not getting rest. How you only were able to stay in here for three days until it was too much.

He clenched his jaw as he spoke again, his voice quiet. “I don’t want to talk about how cold you were without me,” he said, reaching to your cheek. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to imagine you in here, missing me, needing me…” He took a small step closer, his eyes dark with something. “Just don’t, okay?”

“I am still mad” you admitted suddenly, looking up into his eyes.

A frown immediately appeared on Rhysand’s face. “Mad?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing. “You’re mad?” His tone of voice was almost dangerous, defensive almost. He was not in the mood to deal with his mate being mad at him. Not after everything he had just endured down under that mountain.

“Yes,” you said immediately. “I am mad.”

A small scoff left Rhysand’s mouth at your words. He stared at you, his expression hardening. “You’re mad? You’re mad at me?” he repeated, his voice raising now. Why in the world were you mad at him? He had just spent fifty years trapped in hell, being Amarantha’s toy. What right did you have to be mad at him?

“Did I say I am mad at you?” You whispered, tilting your head slightly.

Some of the anger in Rhysand’s expression faded as he realised his mistake, the meaning of your words finally hitting him. His shoulders relaxed slightly and he let out another breath, running a hand through his hair.

No, no you hadn’t said you were mad at him. You had just said you were mad. He blinked at you, almost feeling silly as he realised how easily he had let himself get worked up and angry.

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath as his heart rate slowed down. He let out a long breath. “Perhaps explain why you’re angry then?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“I am mad at myself” your voice barely above whisper, as you reached for his hand.

Mad at yourself. Not at him.

He took a soft breath as you reached for his hand, and he gently laced your fingers with his, feeling the familiar comfort of your touch.

“I couldn’t help you,” you said, frowning a little. “I should have helped you somehow…”

Rhysand’s heart ached in his chest as he heard your words. So that’s what you were angry about. You were angry because you thought you hadn’t helped him. That you could’ve done more.

“You did help,” he said, his voice softer. He gently squeezed your hand in his, his eyes roaming all over your face.

Your frown deepened, as you looked up into his eyes, slightly confused. Not understanding what he meant by that. Rhys saw the confusion on your face, the furrow in your brow. He realized that you were not grasping what he was trying to tell you.

A smile appeared on his face, the one that made his eyes shine. “You did help me,” he repeated, saying the words slowly. “You helped me every single day that I was away. You gave me hope, a reason to live. Without you, I would’ve lost my mind down there.”

Lifting his hand, he gently cupped your jaw, smiling more. “By the Cauldron,” a sigh left his lips as he rested his forehead against yours “Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you? How many times the memory of you, of your face, your body, was what kept me going?”

“Fifty years,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Fifty years of living in hell, and the only thing that kept me going was you. It was your face, your smile, your laugh, your scent, your voice, all playing in my head over and over and over again. That was the only thing keeping me sane.”

Tears started to build in your eyes at his words. “Idiot…” you mumbled, sniffling a little.

A soft smile appeared on Rhysand’s lips as he heard the word. He knew you only ever called him an idiot jokingly. And he knew that if you were now calling him an idiot, it was a good sign.

“And yet you love me anyway,” he said softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, catching a fallen tear.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, hugging him, as you sniffled again “Don’t leave me, ever again.”

Rhysand’s arms wrapped around your body immediately, holding onto you tightly as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, letting it wash over him.

He let out a sigh. “I won’t,” he promised, holding onto you so tenderly, as if he was scared he might break you. “I’m never leaving you again. Ever.” His hands started to slowly caress your back, gently going up and down, just feeling the smooth skin under them. He took another few deep breaths, your scent, and your body against his almost making him feel dizzy.

Rhys gently guided you backward until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, causing you both to topple down onto the bed. He hovered above you, looking down at your face, looking into your eyes. His heart was pounding against his chest, his body almost aching with desire as he took in your face, looked at you laying out beneath him.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, gently reaching out a hand to brush some hair out of your face.

He lowered his head, slowly making his way down to your neck, peppering kisses along your skin.

“I was yelling at everyone” You mumbled, already unbuttoning his shirt. “That we had to do something. Save you.”

Rhysand’s heart thumped in his chest as he heard your words. Despite knowing that you had never given up hope, the thought of you fighting for him, of you trying to save him, was almost too much. He could so easily imagine you yelling, demanding that everyone do something, demanding that everyone save him. He could practically see you standing there, his fierce, tiny, determined mate.

Mate. His mate.

Chuckling a little at your words he shook his head “Of course you were.” His hands were working quickly to take off your own shirt, needing to feel your skin underneath his touch. “I expected nothing less.”

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled too.

Rhys smiled, his lips against your neck. He continued to plant soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses up towards your jaw. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help the need he felt to mark you, to leave you something as proof of it being real, of him being back home.

“Of course,” his hands were all over you. “You’ve always been so fiercely protective of me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck again. “So very, very protective.”

“Because you deserve it” you whispered quickly. “You take care of everyone. You do everything to make everyone happy and safe.”

It was so true; those were the things that mattered to him. Making sure his people were happy, and safe. And most of all you. His heart clenched, shields still so high in his mind, hiding the memories from you. You still believed that he was worthy of being taken care of, that he deserved to be protected. And as you said the words, he felt his chest ache with overwhelming affection and love for you.

Rhysand felt a lump rise in his throat at your words. He couldn’t believe that you were here beneath him, saying these things to him. Praising him, loving him. It seemed too good to be true.

“Gods, you’ll make me cry if you keep saying things like that,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual.

You pulled him down by his neck, your lips not yet touching “But still, you are not being honest with me” you whispered, searching his eyes.

Rhysand let out a soft breath as you pulled him down, your bodies almost pressed together. Gods, he could practically taste you, he was so close to having you.

But then you stopped him from kissing you.

He raised his eyebrows at your words, now looking into your eyes, feeling a wave of uneasiness wash over him.

“And what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice careful.

You sighed, guiding him, so you both were sitting on the bed, still close but you did keep a small distance. “You are keeping me away.”

Rhysand frowned, feeling a pang of hurt run through him at your words. Keeping you away? That’s certainly not what he was doing. He was aching, aching, to have you close, to be with you, to have you in every way possible. He shook his head quickly, trying to banish the hurt from his eyes. “I’m not keeping you away, sweetheart,” he said, trying to find the right words. “I just want to go slow, I want to be careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, not like that,” your voice was quiet, vulnerable. Raising your hand, you placed it on his temple, “You are keeping me away from you”. Feeling how high his shields were, how strongly he kept you away from his mind, it hurt you.

It hurt, not being able to feel him that way.

He felt his heart stop in his chest as he heard your words, as he felt your hand on his temple. It hadn’t even occurred to him how much you must have missed feeling him down the bond, feeling the connection.

But… he wasn’t ready for you to feel all the pain and fear he had endured, all the trauma from Under the Mountain.

“I want to help you, to give you everything you need. But I can’t do that while you keep me away. Not letting me in” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “I want to know, what she did to you. How she hurt you.”

You wanted to comfort him, to comfort and help him. But he felt so broken, so ugly, so used. He was scared, he was scared that you’d never look at him the same if you found out how Amarantha had touched, used him, and made him do those dirty things.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he heard your voice. No, he didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want you to hear about what had happened, he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want you to know about how weak and broken it had made him, how pathetic he had felt.

“You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You don’t want to be saddled with the horrors and trauma of it all.”

“Rhys I am your mate-“

“Exactly,” he interrupted, suddenly snapping. “You are my mate. I am supposed to protect you, to keep you safe. To take care of you, not the other way around. This isn’t-“ he stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realised that he was being an idiot. He was just feeling so damn vulnerable right now, so damn raw.

You shook your head, pulling him closer, “I just don’t want you to have all my horrors sitting in the back of your mind,” he said, his voice quiet now. “I don’t want that for you.”

“Look at me” You murmured softly “I won’t look at you differently if that is what you’re afraid of” You caressed his cheek. “I love every part of you, no matter what.”

Rhysand felt the knot in his chest tighten as you caressed his cheek, as you spoke such sweet, tender words to him.

And his heart, his heart ached.

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes roaming all over your face as he spoke. “You don’t understand, you don’t… I let her do it. For fifty damn years, I let her use, touch, and hurt me. And I just... laid there and endured it.”

“No, no, no, no, Rhys, my love no,” you shook your head again, searching his eyes, your heart breaking. “Everything you did was to save your family, to save your people, and I would never, look differently at you. You sacrificed so much, so much for other’s happiness” You rested your forehead against his.

Hearing the utter determination, the absolute conviction in your voice, made Rhysand want to cry. Feeling your forehead against his, your soft touch, the closeness.

Those goddamned words. The way you said them so honestly, with so much love, so much understanding.

“I let her use me… for fifty years I-“ He did not want to cry in front of you. “A whore, that is exactly what I am”

You gently took his hand, pulling him slowly, so carefully down, so you could both lie down. In your mind, there were already so many thoughts, as you slowly guessed what he meant, and your heart broke even more.

You felt sick that he had to endure all of that.

“Don’t. Don’t you ever dare call yourself that” you whispered.

Rhysand felt his chest tighten, his body shivering as he followed you. He desperately, desperately, wanted to bury himself in you and simply take comfort in your scent and your presence.

Yet, you did not make that kind of a move towards him. You just pulled him close, hugging him so gently. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, not being able to look into your eyes. He swallowed hard as the memories assaulted him again, making his stomach turn into a painful knot. “Fifty years,” he repeated hoarsely. “I let her use me, abuse me…”

“One day I felt so bad, that Cassian and Azriel literally dragged me out of my room” You spoke suddenly, stopping him, and changing the subject, just like that.

Caught by surprise by the sudden change of subject, Rhys blinked a few times, “What are you talking about?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed, not understanding.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, “I did not want to eat, or sleep, or move.” You murmured, playing gently with his hair. “They decided that it was time for me to… pull myself together. So they dumped me into the river.”

Feeling how hard it was for him to talk about what Amarantha did to him, you decided not to push him, to let go. Deciding that, it was not the time yet for him to open up about it, and as his mate, of course, you understood.

A small hint of a smile appeared on Rhysand’s face. The image of you being dragged out of bed by Cassian and Azriel and being thrown into a river was a very fitting one. He sighed softly as you tangled your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of your touch.

“How long did they have to keep doing that?” he asked, now gently caressing your side.

“Two weeks straight” you laughed a little, feeling him relaxing in your arms.

Rhys started laughing too, the thought of you being dumped into a river every single day for two whole weeks was both amusing and amusing.

He was relaxing, but he still felt so on edge. On one hand, he was enjoying this moment with you, enjoying your touch, your laughter, feeling the bond flow through you both. But on the other hand, there was a part of him that was aching with the need to talk, to unload the past fifty years onto you. He did not want to keep hiding those memories from you.

“And then, next month came, the same story. It happened a lot” you murmured softly, nuzzling your face in his hair.

Even though he was enjoying this moment, enjoying your soft, gentle touch and your sweet voice, there was a part of him still feeling so raw, so disgusted with himself. He suddenly let out a soft sigh, his fingers gripping your hip a bit harder. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah, I am” You laughed with a bright smile.

And Rhys couldn’t help the laughter that broke out of him at your words, feeling a burst of warm affection. Gods, he had missed this. He had missed laughing, making sarcastic comments and jokes just like that.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. “Clever girl.”

“When you are ready. One day, I will be here to listen,” you started quietly, still playing gently with his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingers, “But for now, can we just, stay like this?”

Deeply you wanted to know what exactly happened Under the Mountain, what Amarantha did to him. How much he really sacrificed. How broken he really was, and how could you help.

But not yet. Not when you finally could hold him, rest with him, laugh with him. Not when he was so alive, so real, lying next to you, breathing, not a hallucination, not a dream.

As you spoke, Rhysand felt a sense of relief wash over him. The fact that you weren’t forcing him to talk about it now, that you weren’t pushing him to unload all his trauma and pain onto you.

Instead, all he had to think about right now was the fact that he was home, that he was in your arms.

He pressed a few gentle kisses on your shoulder, before he spoke, his voice gruff. “Only if I can hold you like this every day for the next fifty years.”

You giggled softly, “Fifty years is not enough.”

Rhys chuckled softly, feeling a rush of affection towards you once again. Gods, he would never get tired of the sound of your sweet giggles.

“Alright, a hundred then. Two hundred, even,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, followed by a small love bite. “That’s still not enough, though.”

“Still not enough.”

“Forever” This time, he connected your lips in a soft kiss.

“Forever.”

[keisgirl]

flavours of love; osamu miya

pairing; post-timeskip!osamu x reader

wc; 0.7k

multi masterlist

the evening sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the quaint shop named onigiri miya. inside, the air was filled with the comforting aroma of seasoned rice and fresh, savory fillings. the rhythmic sound of chopping and the sizzle of rice being prepared created a soothing symphony, underscoring the warmth and love that osamu poured into every piece of onigiri he made.

you pushed open the door, greeted by the familiar jingle of the bell. the moment you stepped inside, you were met with osamu’s bright smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he wiped his hands on a towel and ambled over, his movements fluid and confident. “hey there,” he greeted, wrapping you in a quick, warm hug.

“hey, samu,” you replied, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. you leaned into him, savoring the comfort of his embrace. “i missed you.”

his smile widened as he pulled back slightly, leading you to your usual spot at the counter. “i missed you too. ready for your usual onigiri?”

you nodded, but a playful grin tugged at your lips. “actually, i tried something new today.”

osamu’s brow arched in curiosity. “new? like what?”

you hesitated for a moment, trying to contain your amusement. “i went to that new onigiri shop down the street. just wanted to see how it compared.”

the playful spark in osamu’s eyes flickered to a more dramatic expression of mock hurt. “you did what? you know my onigiri is the best.”

you laughed softly, reaching out to gently tap his arm. “i know, i know. it was just a little taste test.”

osamu’s eyes narrowed in a mock-serious glare. “so, you’re telling me you’re cheating on me with another onigiri shop?”

you chuckled, unable to hold back your laughter. “it wasn’t like that! i just wanted to see if they had anything different.”

“different, huh?” he feigned a dramatic sigh, then leaned in, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “well, if you wanted to cheat, you could’ve at least picked a place that didn’t make me look bad.”

you grinned, shaking your head in amusement. “oh, come on. it was just one bite. your onigiri is still the best. i wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

osamu’s expression softened, his gaze warming as he reached over the counter to ruffle your hair affectionately. “i’ll let it slide this time. but next time, you better not even think about trying another place.”

you leaned into his touch, your heart swelling at his words. “deal. and while we’re at it, how about you make me one of your famous onigiri to remind me why i fell for you in the first place?”

his cheeks flushed slightly, but he quickly masked his shyness with a wink. “coming right up. and don’t think i’m going to go easy on you just because you’re my favorite taste tester.”

you watched as he moved with practiced ease, expertly shaping the onigiri with a precision that spoke of years of dedication. each movement was graceful and assured, a testament to his skill and passion. the sight of him working so diligently was both endearing and impressive.

as osamu handed you a freshly made onigiri, you took a bite, savoring the perfect blend of flavors. the rice was warm and fluffy, the seasoning just right. it was exactly as you remembered—simple, yet utterly delicious.

“see?” osamu said, his voice filled with satisfaction as he leaned on the counter, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and amusement. “told you. no one does it better.”

you took another bite, closing your eyes in appreciation. “i’m convinced. your onigiri is the best, hands down.”

osamu’s smile grew wider, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. “good. that’s what i like to hear.”

the evening continued with laughter and lighthearted conversation, the warm ambiance of onigiri miya providing the perfect backdrop. as you sat there, enjoying the comforting meal and osamu’s company, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. it was in these simple, everyday moments that you found the true essence of happiness.

with the sun setting outside and the shop slowly winding down, you both knew that this was where you were meant to be—together, sharing in the little joys of life, and savoring the love that grew stronger with each passing day.

[chastiefoul]

love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel

fluff, fluff, FLUFF

zayne

his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in

he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.

“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.

he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”

you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”

you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.

you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”

“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”

xavier

he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.

he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.

your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?

xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.

you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.

“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.

you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”

rafayel

oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.

“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”

“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.

you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.

“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.

finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.

“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.

[zarameraki]

♡🍼₊˚・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ₊˚・🍼₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 toji loves boobs

: ̗̀➛ words: 982

: ̗̀➛ notes: this was requested by anon and i did post it through the ask but I wanted to post it separately hehe. ok enjoy

Toji had an outlandish kink. 

It developed shortly after you’d given birth. You didn’t understand why he’d stare at you as you breastfeed your child. Well, he mostly stared at your breasts in his classic Toji style. 

“What?” you bit out as he continuously watched you from the kitchen. You helped your baby latch onto your nipple and stared at your husband with a defiant look. “Oh, for God’s sake, Toji. Spit it out.” 

“I want a taste.” 

“Taste of what?” 

“What that little brat is drinking.” 

Your brows hit the roof of your hairline at his bizarre request. He couldn’t be—Wow, your husband had truly outdone himself in his kinks game. “Yeah, no fucking way. This milk is strictly for our child. If you’re so eager, open the fridge and pour yourself a cup. I’m pretty sure we’ve got cookies, too. But the oatmeal ones are mine—”

“I don’t give a fuck, doll. I wanna know what your milk tastes like.”

“Toji, are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not—You’re a grown ass man. I’m not going to, I don’t know, breastfeed you.” 

“I’m not asking you to breastfeed me. I only want a little taste. I’m fucking curious, sue me.” 

You scoffed, giving a small rock to your baby as he gargled and took small breaths in between the feeding. “Toji, I love you, and I love your abnormal requests during sex, but I’m not letting you taste my milk.” 

Toji stared at you with a frown. A puppy-dog frown that melted your heart and added cracks in your defenses. He lowered his eyes and resumed washing the dishes. “I only wanted a small taste,” he mumbled in the most adorable manner. 

Growling from your throat, you folded at his request. “Fine.” 

“Really?” 

“Just—Just give me a minute.” 

Toji abandoned the dishes and quickly sat next to you, ogling your breast. “What if he drinks you dry?” 

“What if you drink me dry?” 

“I don’t mind sharing. He’s my son, too.”  

You rolled your eyes and smiled down at your baby. After a few minutes of drinking, he unlatched his mouth and you handed him off to Toji to burp him. “Wait here. I’ll go use the suction pump—”

“Fuck no. I wanna drink it straight from the source.” 

You took in a deep, aggravated breath. “Fine, you dick. Put him to sleep and meet me back here.”

A tiny part of you was intrigued by Toji’s kink, but another was scared that he would drink you dry. The man was downright obsessed with breasts since the first night you slept together. During your pregnancy, he’d lay you back on his chest and massage them with scented oils, commenting how heavy they’d gotten. It was only a matter of time his curiosity regarding your chest would grow. 

You unhooked your nursing bra and placed it aside, laying down on the couch with a groan. Toji entered minutes later and immediately covered your body with his looming figure, giving you kisses across your face for being such a kind wife. “Whatever. Hurry up so I can eat something.” 

“I’ll cook,” he said, trailing kisses down to your neck and chest. “l’m gonna finger you, too, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. 

Toji smiled and pushed his hands down your panties, parting your folds slowly growing wetter and wetter from his heated presence. He sought out your clit like the expert he was and rubbed it with gentle circles. Your lips parted with small, soft sounding sighs, fingers running through your hair and staying there. “That feels good, doll?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Yeah?” Toji pushed his middle and ring finger into your entrance. He began stimulating you with his quick thrusts. Your heels scraped up the couch’s surface, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. 

Toji ran his coarse tongue over your right nipple. You glanced down at him and scoffed from his cheeky wink. He kissed the sensitive bud, then locked his mouth on it, pulling it in. You wrapped a leg around the back of his thighs, and your hands cupped the back of his head as he suckled on your nipple. He moaned and took laboured breaths from his nose, and when you glanced down, you found trickles of white liquid at the corner of his lips. 

“Toji, save some—”

He switched to your left nipple, leaving his fingers static inside your walls. He was too drunk on the taste of your breast milk to care about anything else. Your back arched from the sensation of him teething your nipple to produce more milk. Toji took his fingers out of your pussy and massaged your right breast. 

“Toji, that’s enough,” you breathed, using his hair to pull him away. Thankfully, he compiled and released your nipple with a pop sound, licking around his mouth to taste the last bits of your milk. “How was it?” 

Toji had to close his eyes and reel in a deep breath. “I’m gonna drink from these tits every night until they stop producing milk.” He gathered your breasts in both large palms and kissed the tips. “Gonna put a baby in you again so I don’t die of thirst.” 

You chuckled in disbelief and smacked his back. He stared lovingly at you and kissed your lips. You tasted nothing, really. “Mmm. You know, if you make me a big dinner afterwards, I’ll have more milk for our baby when he wakes up.” 

He narrowed his eyes. 

“What I’m saying is, you big buffoon, that whatever is left over now, is yours—ah!” 

You clutched to the back of his hair as he started drinking again, pulling up to sit on his lap. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, mouth glued to your sore, puffy nipple. 

Sighing, you smiled and kissed the top of his head. “You’re a kinky idiot, Toji Zenin.” 

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”

HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader

filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.”

note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”

Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.

You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.

You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.

Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.

It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.

“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.

“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”

“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”

“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”

“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”

The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”

“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.

“And?”

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.

You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”

“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”

“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”

“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”

You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”

“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”

His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”

He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”

HINATA SHOYO.

If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.

You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.

His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”

The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.

“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”

“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”

You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”

“Want me to carry you?”

your eyes widen. “H-huh?”

“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”

“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.

“This is more embarrassing!”

“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”

[frmisnow]

BORDEAUX !

summary. after you realize that the man you had a drunk one night stand with, was in fact your new ceo. you settle on avoiding him as best as you could- but why do you feel so drawn to him?

notes. welcome to a new verse (aka. series), usually most of my series are more fluffy w a touch of smut (besides two whores, one job lol) but this one is gonna be a lot more angsty and smutty! so i hope y'all are into that kinda jam 🍷⭒⋆｡˚

warnings /includes. (1.7 k words / suggestive!) non idol! ceo! jungkook x non specified! reader, alcohol, shitty ex :/, jk is an alcohol nerd?, reader kind of uses him to kill bad memories ?, making out

the air was heavy with the scent of alcohol and smoke melted with the faint music somewhere in the background: jazz, how unfitting for this kind of environment. the enviornment which people go to specifically to escape reality, for a few minutes, maybe a few hours.

the alcohol wasn't bad, at least judging by the wine and it offered a sense of peace or rebellion, stupid fucking rebellion. your ex used to despise wine with all of his heart, he hated the scent of it, didn't want you to drink any of it near him.

he didn't like when you drank alcohol over all, he was stern on the idea of keeping you innoccent. you chugged down the glass like a shot at the sheer memory of the behavior you used to put up with.

the glass hits the table with a dull thud and you could almost hear his voice, scolding you for how reckless you were. you reach out for the bottle, pouring yourself another glass. and this time you savor the taste on your tongue, the rich flavor.

you feel eyes burning into your face, no- not burning, observing. it didn't feel uncomfortable but you could firmly feel them on you. the man's presence cut through the fog of alcohol and self-pity that had settled over you, and for a moment, you simply stared.

you should have looked away, but you didn’t. instead, you lifted your glass to your lips, taking another sip of wine, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, heavy and warm. he watched you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes never leaving yours.

he stands up making his way to you, and suddenly the crowd and all the shitty memories fade away, it was almost like he had a bigger effect on you then the alcohol did and that said a lot.

finally, he spoke, his voice low and smooth, like velvet draped over steel. “mind if i join you?”

the question was formal, did he work in business? no, that would be stupid to assume based of just a question. you nod, slowly but surerly, motioning towards the chair next to you.

he takes the seat next to you, signaling for a nearby waiter, requesting another glass, before turning his attention back to you. his gaze is intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to see straight through to your soul.

“rough night?” he asks, his tone conversational but his eyes still focused intently on you.

his thigh touched yours, the proximity with somebody you didn't know should make you feel uncomfortable but it strangely didn't. "yeah," you mouth. the whole truth was too complicated, too raw, to lay out infront of a stranger.

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, before he speaks again, his voice was soft, almost soothing. "you're downing that glass like it's water."

you look at the almost empty glass that your fingers had been circling around while talking to him, he was right. you didn't even remember how many glasses you had, three perhaps?

"you have a pretty voice," you mumble, finshing what was left of liquid in the glass.

he raised an eyebrow at the compliment, surprised by the sudden comment from you. he can't help but chuckle a little, amused by the drunken confession. "thank you," he replies, sounding sincere.

you both barerly talked, you were two strangers in a cheap bar, why bother talking about boring jobs? the night was young.

the music in the background shifted, a slower, bluesy tune now. the more you looked at him, the more you could firmly feel his thigh pressed into your own. his fingers, tattooed, why hadn't you noticed that earlier? took the wine bottle from earlier, tilting it around to look at the label. he seemed to know the brand, humming in approval.

"it's a good vintage." he says, still holding the bottle but his eyes are on you, studying your face in the dim light.

and this actually managed to crack a smile out of you. it wasn't meant to be a funny comment, in fact he seemed serious about it. was he an alcohol expert? the fact that you knew absolutly nothing about wine made it better.

he takes a sip from his own glass, his eyes never leaving yours. he can't help but find your lack of knowledge about wine oddly endearing.

please, talk me stupid about alcohol. i want to know what rebellion tastes like. the words linger on your tongue but you don't cave into the urge of saying them. i want you to teach me what he was so afraid of showing me.

"i have a whole collection of rare and expensive wines back at my place. some you would never find even in the best bars," he pauses, his hand brushing slightly against your arm.

"are you trying to make me come home with you?" you ask though it's not a question you necessarily need an answer to, you knew what he had meant.

"and if i was?" his eyes stay on yours, tilting his head, "would you come with me?"

stupid fucking question.

the second you step into his apartment, the door closing behind you, he is already on you. his hands are on your waist, holding you firmly in place as his tongue invades your mouth, tasting the mixture of your saliva and the rich flavor of the wine.

when you both take time to breathe, you ask, "so where is the wine you were talking about?" your tone is clearly intoxicated, your eyes a little hazy as he doesn't let go of you and you both stumble towards his living room together. the action seeming strangely domestic.

"it's right there." his voice a tad bit breathless, he motions towards a large display of alcohol, his eyes scanning the selection before settling on a particular bottle.

he reaches for the bottle, the arm around your waist still keeping you close to him, the alcohol clearly making the both of you more touchier then you would be sober.

jungkook holds up the bottle, letting you get a good look at the label. it was an expensive brand, even you could tell that, the words written on it swirling in an elegant script.

you hum, "italy," leaning into his touch sub counciously whilst he drew little circles over the clothed skin, twisting the bottle, "when did you get this?"

"i have a guy who brings me the good stuff from time to time."

your eyes wandered over the display, you wanted to kneel forward to look over the bottles but didn't want to get out of his embrace either.

it felt good, doing everything your ex would scrutinize you for. he'd be disapproving off even letting you look over all of these.

his head made a little motion towards almost like a silent 'go on' like he could firmly hear your thoughts.

the bottles seemed rare, visably very espensive and whilst you looked over the alcohol, he looked at you.

"what do you think?" he asks after a few minutes, tone soft and quiet like he didn't want to disturb you.

"i think i've had enough to drink already but it's all really pretty," you trail off, "you're really pretty"

jungkook smiles at the comment, reaching forward to run his fingers through your hair, the gesture seemingly absentminded yet surprisingly tender, "is that the alcohol talking?"

you shrug, grinning, "i honestly don't know"

he studies your face for a moment, his eyes roving over your features. he reaches out, his fingers grazing your jawline, the touch light and gentle. "you know, you're very pretty yourself," he says, his voice almost a murmur.

the color of the red wine in your hands is now the exact color of your cheeks and your mind is empty as you lean forward to kiss him once more.

this time when your lips meet, it was rather delicate and slow. as you both sat on the ground next to the large display and kissed eachother like it was the end of the world.

and you don't stop when you felt like you couldn't breathe, placing your hand on his chest, feeling the pulse beneath the shirt. this was what drowning memories was all about.

your ex didn't kiss like this. he didn't hold you like this and he most certaintly will never get the chance to redeem himself ever.

you find yourselves sinking to the floor while jungkook craddles your face as if you were something precious, something worth cherishing.

your ex kissed you just to check of the foreplay box, jungkook kisses you because he wants to.

"i want you," you mumur against his lips as you both take time to breathe.

you wake up to harsh sunlight filtering through the blinds, you realize you're lying on a coach. his coach. the cool leather fabric is a stark contrast to your bare skin, that's when you notice — you’re only in your panties. red lace with little bows.

the rest of your clothes are scattered on the floor, your shirt draped over the armrest, your skirt crumpled beside it.

you try to piece the events of last night together, did you sleep together? ... you can't quite remember. you sit up slowly, your head pounding with the dull throb of a hangover.

jungkook's presence was no where to be found, the apartment was dead quiet. he left you here, naked and confused: what a dick.

you do your best to gather the clothes, slipping into them, you search for your phone, finding it next to the alcohol display. you take another look at the various bottles, now sober.

you shake your head at how easy you were yesterday, checking the time on your phone until your heart drops — the meeting. the meeting you could not afford to miss.

you let out a groan of frustration, fighting the zipper of your skirt, great- you were going to meet your new ceo looking and feeling like a mess.

you step into the large building with your heart still pounding, why did the metro station have to be so far away from your job? running as fast as you can had been your only option.

you push through the glass doors of the conference room, instantly sitting down, you did not want the people to look even more then a second at the wrinkled skirt of yours.

the important man stands facing away from you, writing something down on a white board. he seemed pretty tall, confident posture.

and then he turns around.

your expression drops. it's him. it's the man from last night.

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They unknowingly bring up an insecurity Seungmin|Pt1

Pt2 Pt3

Your heart was strung in your throat. Seungmin was always one to tease; and for the most part he was good about shying away from topics you were sensitive about so no problems had ever arisen. But as you read over his texts over and over again you felt your heart pinch in a way that was all to similar to what you had felt in your previous relationship.

"You talk too much, you know that?" Your ex had told you that numerous times, and eventually it led to a break up. And your constant yapping became something that made you insecure.

But when you first met Seungmin you felt like you were perfect the way you were. Chan had said you would balance Seungmin out quite well. And up until now you felt as if that were the case.

Now you wondered if maybe you did become to much.

Maybe the constant chatter had become annoying to the quiet boy you loved dearly.

And while you had been in love numerous times before, it hurt more to even think of losing Seungmin than all your previous heart breaks combined. And that was a lot considering you had always been the one to have your heart broken.

You couldn't tear yourself away from your phone screen - rereading those texts and overanalyizing the tone.

Maybe it was in a light hearted way? Or maybe it was the complete opposite and it was fully aggression?

You sat there trying to pick apart every single meaning, connotation, and tone the words he sent could have when your phone dimed again.

"I'm guessing your busy shopping since my phone has been quite for more than fifteen minutes. Haha, I think that's a first!"

You did everything in your power to try and bite back the knot in your throat from coming up and causing tears. So much so your eyes started to burn and you ended up shedding a few quietly.

The rest of the day you busied yourself with miniscule little tasks like dusting the fans and sweeping the welcome mat that you intended to take along with you when you moved in with Seungmin.

You tried to take your mind off of the texts. You figured Seungmin didn’t mean it in anyway malicious sort of way. In fact you knew he meant it as a lighthearted joke. In the time you had spent with him you had easily learned just how kind and loving of a person he was, and how much he cared for you.

You just couldn’t shake the hurt from those words - and more importantly the fear you had deep down that there was some truth to the words he had sent.

By the time Seungmin arrived at your apartment it was early evening. Every Wednesday you guys would cook together ever since you witnessed him and Felix blowing food up by accident on a live. Seungmin followed the normal routine of slipping off his shoes and into his house slippers and immediately changing into a cheap shirt he had bought when you first had started your endeavors since he was smart enough to realize he was a messy cook.

“Hey baby.” He said as he greeted you with a quick hug from behind and a chaste kiss to the cheek before he went to wash his hands.

You have a small noise of acknowledgement as Seungmin dried his hands off on a plaid towel and turned to you with happy anticipation.

“What are we cooking today?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.” You replied as you started to grab the necessary ingredients. Seungmin followed you around like a happy puppy and helped you a carry everything to the counter you reserved for preparation of ingredients.

“So how do we start?” Seungmin asked. By now he had noticed your face was a little droopy and your responses were short and if there was any conversation it was only in answer to his initiation.

“With the ground beef.” You said as you pulled out a big bowl to put the meat and seasonings in. Seungmin watched you from his peripheral as you poured in some panco bread crumbs and a bunch of other various aromatic seasonings while he opened up the meat packaging.

As he kneeled everything with his hands he tried asking you about your day.

“So did you end up ordering the mugs baby?”

“No, I didn’t.” Silence.

“Oh…maybe after dinner we can look on Etsy together? Or maybe find a website to customize them? It might seem like a lot but I think the guys would really appreciate your sentiment.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Silence.

Seungmin started to roll out oddly and unevenly shaped meatballs and continued to try and ask you questions as you guys worked, but your answers we short. Not rude. But literally short.

Not thouroghly explained like usual.

Even at dinner you were quiet and barely even touched your food.

“Do you not feel good baby?” Seungmin asked you as you played with a piece of garlic bread.

“I feel okay…maybe a little tired.” You said popping the piece into your mouth as if to show you were feeling fine.

Seungmin sighed and put his fork down.

“Did my text hurt your feelings?” He had been worrying about it all day when he had seen you had left him on read. It was an odd thing but nevertheless endearing when you would finish a conversation over text and send a meme to him just to acknowledge the end of the conversation, and to make sure he “didn’t find it hurtful” that you had left him on read. Even if he constantly assured you it was in no way shape or form a problem.

You hadn’t sent him a meme. And the more he thought about it he realized that his humor might not have translated through text.

“Im sorry if I hurt your feelings. It was a joke, Y/N. I would never purposefully want to hurt you. I love when you share about your day. I was a bit tied up so while you texting me might have been inconvienent at the moment doesnt mean I don’t appreciate you wanting me to know everything about what you are doing. I love that you want me to be a part of your life , even the tiny thing.”

“It’s okay babe.” You replied putting a smile on your face. “I know you didn’t mean it to hurt me. I’m just tired that’s all.” You let out a breath as you stood up and collected Seungmin’s plate. “Maybe we can just watch a movie instead of shopping? I just don’t feel like thinking very much right now in any capacity…” You let out quietly.

“Of course.” Seungmin responded, trailing you into the kitchen as you set the plates in the sink. “I love you.” He said quietly, his voice lilting up slightly. Were you actually okay?

“I love you too Minmin.” You place a a small kiss next to his eye and head towards the living room.

During the movie Seungmin kept stealing glances at you as you leaned on him but not into him. As you laughed but the curve of your mouth didn’t exactly reach your eyes. And how those same eyes were focused on the screen but your mind was obviously some place else.

Although you had said you were fine your silence gave him the answer you actually wanted to give. That Seungmin had struck a nerve more sensitive than he had known.

[paradiseprincesss]

the boy is mine | jonathan crane

masterlist

yeah so i wrote this in literally record timing because the music video to the boy is mine is so jonathan crane and his girl coded. i'd like to think i'm keeping u guys fed with all my fics i hope u like !!!

summary: you’re set on doing anything to make that boy yours, and the plan you curated is absolutely purrrfect.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), bondage/tying up, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, stalking, obsessive behaviour, therapist/patient relationship at one point lol

“perfect.” you whisper to yourself as you poured the last drop of the glittery, pink liquid into the small vile, swirling it around as you popped a cork into the top.

you smiled proudly as you sat on the kitchen floor of your apartment, holding up the vile to get a good look at it under the moonlight. it was fool proof — he’d for sure be yours after you forced him to drink this.

some would say you were a little unhinged, but you preferred the term creative. you were a little obsessed with your old therapist, doctor jonathan crane. you started seeing him when you stumbled across his pictures online, and you knew you had to have him. you booked your first session with him roughly nine months ago, and he was there for you every step of the way.

you didn’t actually need therapy (well…), but you still booked sessions with him because he was yours. it was meant to be. you couldn't unsee it. during your first ever session with him, you made sure to put on your cutest, most feminine and dainty mini dress, paired with some matching high heels. you even did your hair and makeup with precision. jonathan didn’t show it on his face, but when you sat there in that leather chair across from him for the first time, his heart started to beat a million miles a minute.

you were jaw-dropping. he couldn’t believe someone could actually possess such beauty, and though he tried to stay professional, it was proving to be quite difficult. every time you spoke, every time you smiled at him, every time you did absolutely anything — he would become more and more infatuated with you.

“i just wish he didn’t leave me, you know?” you say softly, feigning innocence, “it’s been so hard without a man to take care of me.”

jonathan clenched his jaw silently, he couldn’t believe that a man would be stupid enough to break-up with someone like you. be professional, he reminded himself.

“understandably so,” he said clinically, “i can only imagine how difficult it would be to have a relationship like that end so abruptly.”

“it was so difficult,” you say, your eyes watering, “but, i think i’m slowly starting to move on.”

of course, such "ex-boyfriend" did not exist. this was all part of your elaborate act to make him think you were an innocent, naive girl who was heartbroken and needed someone to save her. that someone being him, of course.

he was made for somebody like you.

you only had seven sessions between the two of you before jonathan abruptly reassigned you to his colleague, doctor webber. she wasn’t anything like doctor crane — she didn’t understand you the way that he did.

good things come to those who wait, but patience wasn’t your thing.

“i’m sorry,” jonathan doctor crane said to you, “as much as i want to continue to be there for you and your journey of growth, i believe that my colleague would be better suited to your…needs.”

“what are you talking about, doctor crane?” you asked, trying to to hide the desperation in your voice.

“i have another patient i must attend to,” he says flatly, informing you that your session had come to an end, “but i wish you all the best.”

and with that, he sent you to see doctor webber. of course, you were heartbroken. how could your soulmate do that to you? but jonathan wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to see you — it was quite the opposite, actually. he knew that feeling this way about his patient was so very wrong, and if he continued to see you, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

really, he did this for you.

as you placed your little love concoction on the kitchen counter, you turned on your tv. jonathan was supposed to be doing a segment with the mayor of gotham tonight about the crime rates in the city, and what him and his team at arkham asylum were doing to solve the issue. as his face appeared on tv, you sighed to yourself. he was so handsome in his suit and tie — and those sexy little glasses?

meow.

the chilly gust of wind made you shiver for a moment, but your latex bodysuit kept you warm enough — well, not really. with your little cat ear headband, you toss your hair over your shoulders as you quietly make your way into the silent home. your black pumps were surprisingly silent against the wood floors, and you crept into the living room where a woman sat on the couch watching tv.

you went undetected as she completely missed your presence. stealthily, you creep behind her until suddenly, you yanked her by her hair. she screamed loudly, and your hand immediately went up to her mouth to clasp down on it; you were getting really good at this.

“don’t scream,” you whisper, “i just came here to tell you to stay away from my man.”

slowly, you remove your hand and she looks back at you with sheer terror, “wh-who’s your man?” she asked with fear laced in her voice.

you hated this bitch — she was one of jonathans patients. there was nothing going on between them, you knew that (plus you would’ve murdered her if there was!), but you had spent the last few weeks…"cleaning up the streets."

these ratty bitches had to go; any woman who was his patient or in his life at all had to go. you even dressed the part with your sexy little cat costume and all. you know what they say — in the eternal game of cat and mouse, there are no winners, only survivors.

“doctor jonathan crane,” you said dreamily, but your tone turned sinister within seconds, “and if you ever go see him again, i will find you, trust me. i've already found you once, and you don't want me to come prowling back around.”

the woman nodded frantically, and you went on your merry way. this was the last one, you were certain. you’d even made a list of all the women to threaten so that you could make sure they would stay away from your man. finally, you made your way home and started to wind down from all the break-ins you’d been making recently. it was hard work chasing down all these…mice.

jonathan noticed that his belongings were going missing here and there over the last few months, and he knew something strange was going on. he wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but something was off.

first, little things such as his favourite pen (yes, he has a favourite pen) went missing. then, a few patient files would seemingly disappear along with some sticky notes he had stuck on his desk the day prior. he didn’t think too much of it until one of his credit cards went missing from his wallet — but there weren't any fraudulent charges made.

he even continued to monitor his bank account and freeze his card, but no charges were ever made on it regardless. the last straw was when his spare house key went missing. even for a man as smart as jonathan, he could not figure out who was doing this for the life of him.

you were still attending your regular sessions with doctor webber, but you deliberately booked your appointments on days you knew jonathan was working. you knew you’d run into him either on your way in or way out, and you also knew he wasn’t that booked up anymore since most of his clientele went…missing.

as you said your farewell to doctor webber, you noticed jonathan walking out of his office. he noticed you immediately, giving you a soft smile as you turned to close the door to doctor webbers office. he said your name softly, causing you to almost choke on your own words as you clutched his house keys behind your back.

“doctor crane,” you say softly, “hey.”

“just jonathan is fine,” he said, but he internally scolded himself for saying that, “how have you been?”

“great,” you say sweetly, “doctor webber is…great.”

“that’s wonderful to hear,” he says, “it was nice seeing you again. take care.”

you two parted ways, and once jonathan was back at his apartment — he was to refrain himself from calling you. god, you looked so good today. with those little dresses of yours and good grief, those sexy, little heels you always paired them with. he grabbed himself a glass of whiskey, neat, and took a swig as he thought about you.

why did you have to be on his mind so much, and dear god, why did you have to be so fucking beautiful?

with a frustrated sigh, he looked at his front door, thinking about his keys that suddenly went missing just a week prior. was he overthinking things? was he just imagining it? did he lose his own keys and forget?

he was a psychiatrist for gods sake, why was he driving himself crazy over this? with so many questions and no answers, he made his way to his bathroom as he flicked his kitchen lights off.

the cold water ran from the bathroom sink as he splashed it on his face after removing his glasses, and he looked at himself in the mirror to get a grip. his pale, icy, blue eyes bore into his own reflection, and-

what was that?

he turned around swiftly, turning the tap off, watching as something, no — someone’s perfectly manicured hand ghosted over the edge of his bathroom doorframe.

he couldn’t see anything — the kitchen light was turned off, and the only thing turned on was his dim bathroom light. the master of fear himself felt a little fearful in this moment as he watched the dainty, feminine hand retract and move back into the shadows and he could've sworn he saw...cat ears?

jonathan had to blink a few times to make sure that he hadn’t spilled a vile of his own fear toxin somewhere and that he wasn’t just hallucinating off of it.

hesitantly, he pushed open his bathroom door only to be met with the darkness of his kitchen. his breath hitched as he flicked on the kitchen lights, but he was met with an empty, quiet space. his eyes quickly darted to the front door, but it was locked shut.

but if the door was locked shut, what did he just see? who did he just see? was the scarecrow himself starting to succumb to silly, little, irrational fears? before his mind could start to wander anymore, he heard a familiar sound.

a certain, distinct, and awfully familiar sound of high heels clicking against the wood flooring — and it was coming right from his bedroom. jonathan went over to his bedroom, swinging the door open unsure of what he might see, only to be met with a sight that made him feel weak in the knees.

you were propped up on his bed, in a latex body suit and high heels, along with cat ears to complete your rather sexy costume. you batted your eyelashes at him innocently, and bit your lip as you showed him the rope in your hands.

“how did you…” he whispered, watching you bite your lip as he trailed off.

“doctor,” you purred, “let’s get intertwined.”

“what the fuck…” he whispered once more, watching you as if in a mesmerized trance.

jonathan couldn’t lie — as much as he should have been terrified and calling the cops, he was awfully turned on right now. jesus christ, that latex cat costume that left absolutely nothing to the imagination? yeah, he was hard the moment he saw you.

“i know it’s simply meant to be.” you say softly, and as if his mind could not control his body, he was making his way over to you on his bed.

“um, what-“

“shh,” you hush him, suddenly grabbing him as you swiftly tie a knot around his wrists, “you don’t need to speak, baby boy.”

in mere seconds you had the scarecrow tied up on his own bed, restrained as you looked down at him. jonathan sat there looking up at you — yes, you were hot but you were clearly also insane.

to be fair, so was he.

he didn't bother trying to get himself out of the ropes. he knew that if he tried to struggle you'd most definitely do something not so pleasant to him. also, if he was being honest — this was hot. like, really hot.

"i just need you to do me a favour, baby boy," you giggle, your high heels clicking against the wood flooring once more, "drink this for me, and know that if you refuse, you won't live to see another day."

you held up a vile of pink, shimmery liquid. jonathan looked at you with a raised brow, and hesitantly nodded.

"...i'll drink it if you answer some questions that i have." he says, trying to bargain with you.

"fine," you shrug, "but make it quick."

"alright, first of all, how did you get in here?" he asked.

"easy, i crawled in through your window. next." you say in an awfully innocent voice.

"are you the one that's been taking my stuff?" he asks, and you nod.

"of course, i needed your stuff for my collection." you say whimsically, biting your lip at the thought of your homemade jonathan crane shrine.

in your apartment, you had a wall dedicated to him. it had cut outs of him, printed pictures, his belongings, his address, photos of him when he was younger — the list just goes on. all just regular, boring, stalker stuff, really.

"no more questions," you huff, "drink up, baby boy."

"what is it?" he asked, to which you rolled your eyes.

"an at-home love potion. i'm going to untie you for this — and if you even attempt to run, i will slice your heart in two." you say with an adorable smile.

jonathan doesn't offer a response, but rather opts out for a simple nod. you slowly untie his wrists, handing him the pink, glittery liquid in the vile. you watch him in awe as he closes his eyes and takes it like a shot, smiling to yourself as you realize that he's finally going to be all yours.

this little concoction that you had whipped up was the real deal — you'd even tested it on other men to see if it did what it was intended to do. it worked on them, bringing these men to their knees for you, but it's not like you really had any trouble doing that without a love potion, anyway.

after jonathan drinks it all, he looks back at you blankly. unbeknownst to you, when you were popping the cork off of the potion, he sneakily grabbed a vile of his fear toxin that was stashed by the foot of his bed — just in case you tried to actually murder him.

his plan was to immediately throw the vile at you and watch you succumb to your fears, but if he was being honest, he wanted to see what this shitty little "love potion" could do. he was a man of science, after all.

"i don't feel anything," he said after a moment, "looks like your potion didn't work after all-"

you cut him off with a small giggle, "you don't feel any different?"

"no."

"i've tested it, i know it works," you giggled, "that means if you don't feel any different from before, then you must already love me-"

suddenly, he lunged at you, making you scramble as you tried to fight back. however, he was much stronger than you, making it physically impossible to overpower him. after struggling for a good minute, he had you tied down on the bed like you had him just moments before.

"you're sick in the head," he says, but you could've sworn you saw him smirking, "you're real fucking twisted, you know that? i could call the cops and have you arrested right now."

"do it," you teased, "i dare you to, baby boy."

jonathan suddenly grabbed you by the neck, "what was that?"

you had you refrain from smiling as he choked you softly, feeling yourself get wet from just a second of his touch. you knew exactly what he wanted now.

"sorry," you corrected, "i dare you, sir."

"there we go." he says as he lets go of your throat.

he rummages through his bedside drawer and pulls out some of his own rope, causing your mind to spin at the idea of what he was going to do to you. you didn't run when he untied your wrists initially, but he took a few moments to tie both your wrists up to his bedposts, essentially tying you up so you couldn't move your hands at all.

"oh," you say with a teasing voice, "i see where this is going."

he smirks at you, admiring how sexy you look all tied up in his bed, with your costume and all. he takes his phone out and shamelessly takes a picture with the flash on, and you could feel that you were leaking your arousal down his bedsheets by now.

it seemed that your love potion didn't work on him because, well, he was already obsessed with you.

of course he was — but jonathan was known for his good work ethic. he only gave you up as a patient because it was only a matter of time before he would give in and most likely fuck you on the couch in his office. he just didn't know it was mutual at the time. if he did, well — that's a story for another day.

"maybe i should punish you," he smirks, making his way over to you on the bed, "you've been so disobedient."

"m'sorry, sir," you whimper, "you just make me crazy."

"i know," he cooed condescendingly, "but i think i can fix that, darling."

"you can?"

"i most definitely can," he says lowly, "it might take a few sessions to cure you, but i have a method i think might work on you. i'm gonna fuck you 'till you can't think anymore, no more thoughts after that. sound good?"

you nodded frantically, "mhm, yes. please, fuck yes."

he smirked at you, his hands reaching towards the top of your bodysuit. slowly, he reached his hands behind and unzipped it, slipping it off of you slowly.

"i like the cat costume," he chuckles lowly, "the ears are a cute touch."

you blushed, biting your lip as he slipped you right out of your latex bodysuit. obviously, you wore nothing underneath — not even panties. jonathan groaned at the sight because seriously, no panties? with your wrists tied up and unable to touch him, you were getting pent up real fast.

"i wanna touch you," you whined, "please."

he smirked, "if only you didn't break into my apartment like a stray."

before you could even formulate a proper response, he was crawling between your legs, spreading them out as he got onto his stomach. without warning, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, latching his mouth onto your pussy. your back arched at the feeling, and he continued to lap you up.

"f-fuck, jon," you breathed, "feels s-so good."

"i know." he said cooly against your core, lapping up your arousal continuously as you moaned over and over again.

it was sinful how skilled he was with his tongue — it hadn't even been a full five minutes and you were already on the brink of creaming all over his face. he didn't give you any mercy as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, and your wrists were burning against the rope as you tugged on them.

god, the things you would do to run your hands through his soft, dark, and now tousled hair.

"nnnghh," you whimper, "i'm, ah- gon' cum!"

the coil in your stomach snapped as your release hit you like a freight train, making you scream his name as he made you cum. you were left a panting mess, and he finally released the grip he had on your thighs. after wiping his pink, plump lips along with his chin which glistened with your wetness, he smiled softly at you.

"taste s'good," he commented, "you look so pretty like this, darling. tied up and helpless."

"n-need you," you whisper, "baby, please."

this time, he didn't correct you and demand you call him "sir." maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was the realization that he had finally met a woman who was as unhinged as he was. deep down, he was really loving the idea.

he started to undo his belt, making sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, teasing you as he undid his belt at a painfully slow pace. finally, after what felt like an eternity (it maybe thirty seconds at most), his cock sprung out of his pants, hitting his stomach lightly. it was long, veiny, and thick. how was that supposed to fit inside of you? surely it would split you open.

"cat got your tongue?" he teased as he unbuttoned his white button-down, stroking his cock a few times as your hips bucked into nothing.

"uh-huh." you whispered in awe, biting your lip at the thought of how his size was going to stretch you beyond your limits.

with a low chuckle, he lined his thick cock up with your begging hole, pushing in slowly as you felt him stretch your cunt out fully. he was so big and so long, the feeling of him just halfway inside of you was enough to have you pulling against the ropes again. the way the rope was digging into your wrists was degrading but undeniably hot. it was like a silent reminder of how little control you actually had over this whole situation.

"s-so full!" you squeaked, but he kept pushing himself into your tight, warm hole.

"s'okay, you can take it. and if you can't, i'll make you take it." he groaned, finally bottoming out in you.

you were stuffed to the brim with his cock and slowly, he started to thrust his length in and out of you. desperately, you let out a feverish moan. your breaths were short but heavy, and you were a fucked out, cockdrunk mess for him as he picked up his pace.

"you're so fucking tight, my god," he moaned, "i should've fucked you sooner."

"make me cum," you plead desperately, "f-fuck, yes, feels so good, jonathan!"

"yeah? you wanna cum?" he cooed as he continued to fuck your sopping pussy, "you wanna cum on this cock?"

"fuck, yes." you pleaded.

his cock was pressed snugly up against your cervix, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. he continued to stretch your little hole out, ruthlessly pounding his thick cock into you more and more as you started to see stars. your walls started to flutter around him, letting him know that you were close without having to say a word.

"close already, darling?" he asked, "are you gonna cum for me again, hm?"

"y-yes!" you moaned, "ohmygod- i'm gonna-"

your words started to melt together at one point as you got lost in the pleasure of your high. soon enough, your soaking cunt was tightening up around his fat cock, and a clear liquid poured out from you.

of course — you were so turned on by the way he was screwing you that you'd squirted all over his bedsheets.

"oh, darling," he moaned, "that was so fucking sexy, jesus."

"j-jonathan, baby," you begged, "i-i can't-"

"you can, i promise," he groaned, "i'm close."

"p-please." you started to beg incoherently, the overstimulation making your head spin as your cunt fluttered around his cock again.

he continued to ram your tight pussy until his thrusts started to become sloppier and sloppier, and you could tell that he was close to the edge.

"cum i-inside," you begged him, "i need to be filled, fuck-"

"okay, okay," he panted as his he gave you a few more deep, harsh thrusts, 'm'gonna fill you up, darling."

you nodded, your head spinning as he finally came inside with a low groan, painting your walls white as he stuffed you with his warm seed. he stilled, staying inside of your warm hole for just a little longer to ensure you got every last bit of his cum, before pulling out his semi-hard cock.

he bit his lip as he watched his cum drip out of you (the sight of him biting his lip almost made you cum again), and he reached over to untie your wrists as you slumped down against the pillows. he laughed softly, pulling you into him as you instinctively cuddled into his arms.

he pulled the cat ear headband off your head, which you forgot you still had on, and tossed them to the side.

"i guess i'm going to have a hard time getting rid of you, huh? stalker." he joked, sighing as he took in all the details of your pretty face.

"you won't be able to get rid of me," you say softly, "i'm obsessed with you."

"good, i don't want you around anyone but me." he says, playing with your hair gently.

"i know," you giggle, "but stupid love potion was useless. i should've known you were already in love with me."

the both of you laughed softly, snuggled up in his bed as he told you all about what he did on the side for work — and all about his plans to fear gas gotham city.

jonathan trusted you with this because he knew there wasn't a line in existence that you wouldn't cross for him.

@ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a @xanaxiii

@seaamonster @nocturnest @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @oceanstem

@futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt @ll4n4

@ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @aprilsfrog05 @wiseyouthinfluencer

@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed

[minarinnn]

“notice me” pt2

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader | pt1

content/trigger warnings: fem!reader, SMUTT, p in v, virgin!luke, unprotected sex, rough sex, bold!reader

it’s been a week since that day and you haven’t spoken to luke at all. if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were ignoring him

you were. but this was all part of your twisted game. he made you wait for months, now it’s his time to wait. you wanted him to feel how you felt, maybe then you’ll give into your desires

you’d pretend not to see him, or be busy with studying or teaching your younger half-siblings. luke grew more and more impatient by the minute. he knew that you had always been a master at playing with peoples feelings, being aphrodite’s daughter and all, but this was going too far. he didn't understand why you were ignoring him when it was you who wanted his attention in the first place

every time he saw that you were free, you would leave. you wouldn’t even shoot him your flirty smile like you always did, all you did was spare him a simple glance

he felt like he was going insane, he’s never had to fight for your attention. it just came naturally. how you’d bat your eyelashes at him while complimenting his fighting style, or how you’d place your hand on his bicep as you spoke to him

he never thought he’d be the one doing the chasing. so, finally, after what felt like an eternity of being ignored, luke had had enough. he walked up to your dining table, interrupting your conversation with your half-sister, drew. “hey, can we talk?” he spoke, voice low and almost sounding desperate

“sure” you agree, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek. “in private” he mutters out, eyes boring into your own. you nod, following him to the storage shed just outside his cabin.

you enter the small, dark shed, feeling luke’s intense gaze on you. it feels almost like it's burning holes into your skin, like he's trying to see right through you. he leaned on the wall, crossing his arms under his chest, his muscles subconsciously flexing showing just how toned his muscles actually are

luke took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and serious. "so, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?" his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of an explanation. you remained composed, not wanting to give away the game you were playing. "my world doesn’t revolve around you, castellan” you said with a playful smile

luke clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "dont play games with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about” he took a step closer to you, eyes locked on yours “answer my question”

you felt your heart pound in your chest as luke steadily closed the distance between you. his presence was inescapable, and the tension between you was palpable. you felt yourself getting needier by the second. the way your pussy throbbed at just his words had you weak

you looked at him through hooded eyes, a playful smile still tugging at your lips. “you wanna know that bad, huh?” you said, putting your hands to his toned chest. “you drive me insane” he whispered, lust practically pouring out of his body

“i know” you chuckled softly. luke just looks at you, his expression unreadable. leaning in, he finally kisses you. the kiss is sudden and fierce, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that you haven't seen in him before. you wrap your arms around luke’s neck, pulling him closer to you. the kiss becomes more desperate as he pushes you against the wall, it was more urgent, as if neither of you could get enough of the other

his hands are quick to find their way under your shirt, groping your breast over your bra. he was desperate to get the fabric off of you, desperate to feel you

he takes his own shirt off, you following suit. you giggle as his fingers fumble on the clip of your bra, fingers stumbling against each other as he blindly tries to take it off. you help him, of course.

his mouth quickly latches on to one of your perky nipples, groaning with a sense of satisfaction while his fingers pinch the other, making you squirm under his touch

your fingers pull and scratch on his scalp, a feeling he’s seeming to enjoy to the fullest, given the way he’s moaning against your skin. your free hand undoes his belt, efficiently pulling his pants down under his hips. a voice in the back of his head wanted to ask you if you’ve done this before, but he was too fucking horny to wanna do anything else in that moment

he’s panting, face flushed as he pull don’t your shorts along with your panties, biting his lip to prevent the whine he was gonna let out once he saw the mess you’ve made on your panties. he hasn’t even done much, talk about an ego boost

he’s snapped out from his thought when he feels your cold manicured fingers wrap around his length giving it a few strokes. the tip of his dick flushed a bright reddish pink, feeling the veins throb in your hand at the newly found sensation

“first time?” you tease, knowing full well that it was. “i’ll be gentle, promise” he replied smugly, raising on of your legs to his hip, tip aligning with your entrance. the moment he pushes the tip in, you both gasp. he’s much bigger than you expected, and you’re much tighter than he expected

“fuck” he panted out “s’tight”. your nails dug crescent moons on his shoulders as he sunk the rest of his length into your throbbing cunt. he’s quick to pull out and slam back into you, making you shamelessly moan out his name and your eyes rolling back

he might not have done this before, but he knows how sex works. he promised he’d be gentle, but luke castellan isn’t know for keeping promises, is he? and after you made him wait a whole week, you more than deserve a little punishment

so he’s thrusting up into you, giving you little to no time to adjust to his cock. and you’re so loud about it too. so he puts his middle and index finger into your mouth. “suck” is the only thing he says before your cheeks hollow out and your tongue wraps around his fingers. he can feel the vibrations of your moans through his arms and it’s coursing straight to his dick, making it throb inside of you

“good girl” he mutters into your neck, making you tighten impossibly tighter around his dick. a few more thrust and your cumming on his cock. he doesn’t let you come down from your high, his thrust maintain the same quick and rough pace they had before, making you whine against his fingers at the overstimulation

tears pooling in your eyes as he’s kissing your forehead. “you’re doing s’good f’me baby” he’d grunt out “im gonna fuckin’ ruin you”

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[neo-nomatrix]

Best of Wives and Best of Women

Willy Wonka x reader

word count: 527

summary: Willy’s newest shop ends up a disaster, you have news that may cheer him up.

warnings: pregnancy, angsty

He promised you the world. From the moment you and Willy had met he had two missions. Start his successful chocolate business, and make you the happiest woman alive or dead. You knew he would fulfill both, when you locked your pinky with his you had put your full faith in him.

“It's failing, I'm a failure,” Willy had said to you unexpectedly one day. He took off his hat and pulled a glass from it, pouring himself a glass of clear liquid. one you hoped was just water.

“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” You ask him with a worried look.

“Okay?! Of course I am not okay! My business is failing, I failed you,” he lets out a breath, drinking from the glass quickly.

“You haven’t failed anyone, especially not me! So stop talking nonsense!” you sit up from your chair in disbelief.

“I don’t know what to do,” his eyes well and he takes off his coat.

“You don’t give up, that’s what. Besides, I think I have some good news that will help you.” You hold his hands and smile.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He looks up at you.

You wipe his tears and blush. You take his hand and place it on your newly rounded stomach. You bite your lips nervously waiting for his response.

“You… you’re… no. no you- can’t,” he pulls away and shakes his head.

“I can’t? You’re not happy?” Your smile fades as you look down in shame.

“You are? We haven’t any money, any prospect, we barely have a home,” he raises his voice. his brows furrowed in anger? disappointment?

“We don’t need money, we have each other, our love. That’s enough,” You scoff.

“No it’s not! To raise a family you need far more than just love. If I can't even give you a good life, how will I give one to a child?”

“You do give me a good life, the best life. Because you are a good man. and we’ll figure it out. We always do. Things may seem grim now, but trust me Mr.Wonka, we will be world renowned by the time we have the babe,” You smile at him, not knowing if he believes you, or if you believe yourself.

“You pinky promised me didn’t you? The most sacred of all the promises,” you add.

“I did! I did indeed. And of course, I will keep that promise. For you, for our child,” His shoulders roll back, he stops slouching. His eyes light up and puts his hat back on.

You both smile wildly and he presses a kiss against your lips. He opens his travel laboratory and mixes his ingredients together. Taps the button engraved with a heart and your initials together. A small peony shaped chocolate rolls out of the conveyor belt.

“For you. Both of you,” he looks down at your stomach, “the kids first taste of our future.”

You take a bite of the chocolate flower and close your eyes.

“My favorite,” you trail off and smile.

“I love you. I’ll give you both the best life.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Mr.Wonka.”

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 4 | spencer reid.

"Focus here, sweetie."

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content, suggestive as fuck, making out, nipple stuff (my finger slipped), fluff

a/n: this made me feral

He had been gone for weeks. 

You hadn’t seen Spencer in almost four weeks after your little date at his desk. Case after case came through and he and his team were sent all over the country. You came to understand that Spencer’s job was hectic, wondering how any of them had social lives at all with how often they were called into work only to disappear for days or weeks at a time.

Spencer had called you a handful of times while he was in Illinois, telling you all about the UnSub they caught while you were half asleep working late at your desk. But after that, it was radio silence from Spencer and you could only assume he was neck deep in work just like you. 

You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair with a loud sigh. You were sure your boss had it out for you, given how you were basically the last one in the office trying to finish up a project. You tried to take it as a compliment that they trusted you to handle these things but god you just wanted to go home, pour a glass of wine, put on a face mask and pretend to have your shit together.

The exhaustion made your eyelids feel heavy and your vision blurry. You let out a tired yawn, attempting to blink away the deep desire to crawl under your desk and nap. The sudden buzz of your phone kept you from nodding off at your computer.

Spence: Are you home?

You: Nah, I’m at work, sorry :(

Spence: Still? Isn’t it a bit late?

You: What can I say, I’m an ass-kisser

Spence: Have you had anything to eat?

You: Not yet, I’ll worry about that later

Spencer read your message but didn’t reply. You turned your focus back to your work, sipping on your cold coffee to hopefully bring you back to earth. After forty-five minutes and another two cups of coffee, you finally finished your project. You were in the midst of sending a half-assed email to your project manager when you heard the elevator ding.

“Is Y/N still here?” You heard Spencer’s voice and your heart fluttered.

“Oh yeah, she’s just around the corner,” one of your coworkers replied. You rolled your chair back from your desk, peering around the corner as a lost little Spencer looked around.

“Spencer?” You called softly. His eyes darted to the sound of your voice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. He looked so precious in his sweater, with his messy hair and mismatched colourful socks. He did a little run down the row of cubicles to your desk, holding a plastic bag of what you assumed was takeout. 

You stood up to greet him, the exhaustion suddenly dissipating, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to bring you dinner,” he replied, holding the bag of the best smelling food out for you. 

You pouted at the gesture, “Spencer, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. As a thank you for bringing me dinner the other week,” he said with a smile. 

“Wait… how did you know where to find me?” You raised a brow at him, staring at him sideways. Spencer’s face went red, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I’m sure you told me,” he lied.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Garcia maybe… did some digging,” he replied under his breath, staring at everywhere but you.

You playfully punched his shoulder, “you stalker,” you laughed. 

You pulled another chair over for Spencer, sitting down at your desk and finally pulling your dinner out. You don’t know where Spencer found this food but it was probably the best thing you’d ever eaten… but you also hadn’t fed yourself in 12 hours so maybe your judgement was slightly skewed. 

“When did you get back?” you asked, mouth full of food.

“Two hours and four minutes ago,” Spencer replied, playing with the little Hello Kitty figurines on your desk. 

“Spencer!” you scolded. “You must be exhausted!”

“I’m okay, really,” he quickly said. He let out a breath, shyly avoiding your gaze, “and… I wanted to see you.”

You smiled softly at his confession, reaching over to move some of his messy hair out of his face, “you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he beamed.

The two of you sat at your desk for another hour as you ate your dinner and finished up your passive-aggressive email to your manager. Spencer helped you clean up your small collection of mugs and carried your bag for you while you cleaned up your desk. You walked to the elevator together, reaching up to gently grasp Spencer’s hand in your own.

“This okay?” You asked.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he replied quickly, feeling his hands going clammy and praying you didn’t notice.

You were lucky you lived within walking distance to your job, it proved to be very convenient for exercise and the price of fuel didn’t murder your already dusty bank account. Spencer opted to drive you home since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. You tried to offer him cash for fuel but he waved you off (you hit twenty dollars in his glove box). 

Spencer pulled up outside your apartment building, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment before you spoke, “you… want to come up?”

“Oh… yeah, yeah, sure I can,” Spencer replied nervously, clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to,” you laughed.

“No, no, I want to,” he said quickly, putting his car in park and taking his keys out of the ignition. 

The two of you walked up to your apartment, Tofu rubbing against Spencer’s leg upon his arrival. Spencer was delighted by this revelation (he’d done a lot of research on cats after finding out you had a cat).

“Did you know cats rub up against you like this as a way of putting their scent on you?” Spencer said, running his hand along Tofu’s back, “so other cats know you’re theirs?”

“I didn’t know that,” you lied, of course you knew. But you would never let Spencer stop talking. You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over one of the chairs at your kitchen table. “Make yourself comfy, I’m just gonna go change.”

Spencer watched as you walked to your bedroom, Tofu trotting behind you. He awkwardly shuffled around your apartment, admiring the polaroid photos stuck to your fridge of what he assumed was your friends from your hometown. He smiled softly at how happy you looked. A particular photo of you at a halloween party made his face heat up. You were wearing a white lacy bralette, a white skirt and angel wings. Your friend next to you was dressed like the devil and your other friend dressed as… the Pope?

But that’s not what caught his eye, it was the fact he could clearly see your breasts through your see through top. He could see the little gold studs on either side of your pert nipples, truly juxtaposing the whole angel costume. Spencer had honestly almost forgotten you had your nipples pierced (no he didn’t).

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you almost scared Spencer out of his skin. He was so distracted by your… assets, he didn’t hear you leave your room.

“Uh, nothing- nothing… just this,” he grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be your toaster.

“My… toaster?” your eyes narrowed.

“Yup, love this model,” Spencer nodded, putting your pink toaster back down on the counter. 

You glanced at the polaroids on your fridge, deciding not to embarrass him further, “you want a drink? I have wine, wine and… wine?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to drive home,” Spencer waved you off before shoving his hands in his pockets. Spencer glanced at your outfit, the baby blue tank and grey shorts made a comeback and now he was rethinking the whole ‘wanna come up?’ scheme. 

“How bout a coffee?” you asked.

Spencer gave a tight-lip smile, “Sure.”

You made Spencer his coffee and watched as he almost emptied your sugar jar. You poured yourself a glass of wine before sitting down on your plush couch, patting the spot next to you for Spencer. He sat down next to you, taking a sip of his sugar drink. He looked positively adorable drinking coffee from your Kirby mug.

“You should tell me about your recent case,” you said, tucking your legs under your butt, giving Spencer your undivided attention. 

“...You want to hear about that?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Duh, of course,” you retorted. “I like listening to you talk, Spencer.”

Spencer’s heart quickened at your genuine words, making him beam internally and his brain turn to mush. Spencer proceeded to tell you about the BAU’s most recent case, a string of seemingly unrelated murders of college students at house parties. Your heart leapt to your throat when Spencer told you how the UnSub started shooting at him and Emily before he was arrested. 

“If you get shot, I’ll be so mad,” you told him after he finished his story.

“Okay, I’ll try not to get shot,” Spencer grinned, “so you won’t get mad.”

“Correct answer,” you nodded, downing the last of your wine. Spencer watched you as you stretched your arms over your head, a yawn pulling from your wine-stained lips. His eyes darted to your blue tank top, one of the thin straps falling off your shoulder. Your apartment was cold and your nipples pressed against the thin fabric of your top.

Spencer reached a hand over, gently lifting the strap of your top back over your shoulder, his warm hands making the hairs on your skin prickle. You glanced up at Spencer as he retracted his hand, quickling reaching your own hand out to grab his wrist.

Spencer stared at you with wide eyes, so beautiful and brown.

“Do you… want to see?” You asked quietly, your voice low.

Spencer looked at you, unsure of what you meant, “See what?”

You smiled, “My piercings,” you clarified.

Spencer felt like he exploded. His cheeks went red at the idea of seeing your breasts and the tiny intimate piercing he had only seen through your shirt and in his mind late at night. Sure, he had seen breasts before but he had never seen yours and that’s what made him nervous. 

“I know you must be curious,” you said after Spencer didn’t reply. Spencer opened his mouth, attempting to form a single coherent thought. “Earth to Spencer?” you sang softly.

“I, uhm-”

“You don’t want to?” You asked.

“No, I do!” He quickly said before the weight of what he said hit him, “Wait, no… Y/N, I like you and I don’t want you to think that I’m only here to see… that,” he gestured vaguely.

You grabbed his hand gently, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, “I like you too, Spence,” you muttered, his eyes finally meeting yours, “and I don’t think that you’re only here for that, trust me, guys have before and you’re not them.”

Spencer felt jealousy at the thought of other men seeing such an intimate part of you nag at the back of his mind. You watched his expression change, knowing his big genius brain was in overdrive. You reached a hand up to cup his face gently, bringing his attention back to you.

“Focus here, sweetie,” you whispered with a smile.

“Sorry,” Spencer whispered back.

“I don’t have to show you if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“I am curious,” Spencer interrupted, his voice nervous and quiet. You let out an airy laugh at his sweetness and let go of his face, sitting up straight.

Spencer swallowed the painful lump in his throat as you crossed your arms, fingers grasping the hem of your tank top. His eyes never left yours as you lifted the fabric over your heart, your breasts fully on display for him to see.

It took all of Spencer’s courage to glance down.

And god you were perfect.

Your breasts were smooth and soft, your nipples hard against the chilly air of your apartment. If Spencer were any less respectable, he would be drooling. His eyes stared at the gold jewellery threaded through your hard nipples. He had never seen anything quite as attractive as this and he was sure that nipple piercings were the single greatest thing to ever exist.

“...You’re giving me the wrong idea, Spence,” you chuckled after he stayed quiet for several minutes, simply admiring your beauty.

“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “You’re just…”

“Bit weird, you think?”

“Perfect,” he said, looking up at you again. “You’re just… perfect.”

A small smile graced your lips, “Do you… want to touch?”

“I-I’m not very good at… any of this,” Spencer quickly replied, all he wanted to do was impress you and this was sending him spiralling. 

“I don’t care about that, Spencer,” you grabbed his hand, “I like you, I trust you and I want it if you do.”

Spencer kept his eyes on you, “I… Yes. I want to.” He let you guide his hand to your breast. His hand was warm and large, cupping the soft plush skin gently. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt your soft skin, curious and nimble fingers exploring your skin. His thumb came up to touch the cool metal of your piercing, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling, “Sorry,” he quickly said, pulling his hand away.

“No, no, it’s okay… they’re just sensitive. An added perk of nipple piercings,” you replied. Spencer nodded, taking a mental note as his hand reached back out to touch your skin again. 

You wrapped your hand gently around his wrist, catching his attention. Spencer’s beautiful eyes stared into yours and you lost it. Your hands reached out, pulling him in by his tie to plant a hard kiss against his lips. Spencer’s hand cupped the side of your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Your hands came to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his soft hair.

He pulled away to breathe, thumb stroking over your cheek, “are you okay with this?” he whispered slowly.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then so am I.”

That was all the encouragement Spencer needed to kiss you again, pulling you closer until you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling his waist as you kissed him. You tasted slightly of wine and sweetness, the smell of your perfume sending him dizzy. Spencer’s hands came down to rest on your waist, his thumbs resting against your ribs. 

“You want to keep going?” You asked breathlessly against his lips.

“I don’t want to stop,” Spencer replied just as breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You whined softly as one of his hands reached up to grasp your breast again, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your pert nipple. 

“Spencer,” you whined, your hands grasping at the hair on the back of his neck. He planted a kiss on the column of your throat, then another to the small divot of your collarbone, and another to your sternum. His fingers gently pinched your nipple, making you whine softly. “Not good at this, my ass,” you breathed.

“I have an IQ of 187,” Spencer retorted, “I remember a lot.”

“Clearly,” you replied, lifting his head back up to kiss him again.

a/n: i hope everyone is okay with the lack of smut, i just want everyone to feel comfy (i'll totally write it in a future chapter ;) if you want tho)

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Hungry

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel has a lactation kink.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Smut, lactation kink, p in v, umm I think that's it. 18+ MDNI.

Disclaimer: never been pregnant, don't know how it works entirely. Just enjoy lol Not beta-read. Also, Miguel being a father warms my heart <3

...

It'd never crossed his mind before. After all, your milk was for the baby. 

Diego nursed from you well, his tiny lips latching onto your swollen nipple with little guidance. You held him close and kissed his brow while you sang to him softly. Now and then you'd hiss, your pretty face pinched from the inevitable pain of breastfeeding. 

Miguel watched you both with a full heart—watched how you cradled his milk-drunk son against your swollen breasts lovingly before putting him down for a nap.

And when he couldn't rip his eyes away from the swell of your chest (or how your nipples continued to drip tiny pearls), he thought nothing of it.

...

"Does it hurt?" He asked in the quietness of your bedroom, his toned arm thrown around your shoulders, holding you close.

Diego began to fidget where he was nestled comfortably on his father's bare chest, his wrinkled face blooming red before a cry ripped from his tiny body. 

"Does what hurt?" You asked in return, gently cooing down at the wailing infant, scooping him gingerly in your arms.

Miguel motioned toward your engorged breasts, his eyes lingering over the damp spots forming over your fitted t-shirt, your nipples leaking through the white cotton fabric.

"Sometimes," you sighed as soon as Diego latched on, "when he doesn't drink enough or bites too hard." 

Miguel studied his son as he drank his fill; until his little eyes fluttered with sleep and his milk-covered lips fell away from your chest. 

A bead of milk formed over your swollen nipple and before it ran down the roundness of your breast, Miguel caught it with the pad of his finger, swiping it up gently and placing it in his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, looking down at your flushed face and doe eyes. 

"What's it taste like?" You whispered curiously, watching Miguel lap at his finger like a cat.

He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor on his tongue before he grunted.

"Sweet."

...

“Lemme help you,” he muttered to you one night, watching you wince and groan while you palmed your full breasts. Diego had drank himself to sleep, leaving your tits full still, straining for release. “You’re in pain.” 

You worried your lip, leaning your head back against the headboard. “The breast pump is in the—”

“No,” he said, “not like that.” He carefully positioned himself between your legs, gently lifting your shirt to reveal your swollen tits, nipples hardening immediately. 

“Miguel—”

“Shh, amor.”

He took a breast in hand, squeezing softly and watching the tiny stream of white pour from your nipple before wrapping his lips around the bud and giving a gentle suck. The sweetness of your milk invaded his senses as he drank from you, his eyes fluttering.

You moaned above him, your fingers threading messily in his hair. 

He palmed your other breast, squeezing enough to let your milk pour over his hands and down his wrist, making a mess of you. His cock was straining against his briefs as he rutted into the mattress for some fiction.

“M-Miguel,” you sighed, ignoring the dampness that pooled over your skin and under you.

“Feels good?” He murmured over your damp skin, his lips covered in milk. He tugged gently on your nipple, giving it a few kitten licks before turning his attention to your other breast, quickly suckling down more of your milk. 

You didn’t answer him—couldn’t—but he knew the answer.

You’d fallen asleep shortly after Miguel had cleaned you up, cradling you in his arms. 

But he was far from satiated.

...

When he could finally put his cock in you, he made sure your pussy was nice and wet for him. 

He’d suck on your tits till you were leaking from both your nipples and between your legs before stuffing you good, your milk pouring over his lips and down his chin. Whatever escaped his mouth would be slurped off your smooth skin, his tongue dragging between your breasts as you covered his cock in your juices.

But you preferred to ride him recently. Miguel didn't mind. He wanted you to take your pleasure from him in the most comfortable way possible for you. He knew he was big, knew his cock was a challenge for you, even more so post-pregnancy, but you knew how to manage him.

Whenever you rode him it was in the kitchen. He’d sit on a chair with your body draped over his and you’d bounce on his cock at your leisure. A baby monitor would be placed on the table, always knocked over in your mission of conquering Miguel's lap.

Tonight was no different. Miguel wanted you.

Your cunt swallowed him perfectly, his cock cushioned within your swollen, warm walls.

Your breasts, bare from any restraints, bounced in his face with every swirl of your hips. They were enticing, your puffy nipples beading with the sweet milk he loved. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing them in his large hands and gently squeezing. Milk began to pour over his hands in thin white streams, seeping through his knuckles and down the expanse of your body. His mouth immediately sucked your nipples in quick succession, and you moaned as the soreness mixed with the pleasure of his cock ramming into you deep.

When you came it was with a loud cry. Miguel immediately latched off your tit, kissing you to silence your cries as you covered him completely in your juices. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue as he kissed you with fervor, effectively silencing you. 

He gave one final thrust into your tight heat before his hips stilled, groaning in your mouth as he came. By the end of it, you were both covered in spit, milk, and cum, panting against each other. 

Moments later, Diego demanded attention, his cries crackling through the baby monitor. You gently hissed as you pulled off Miguel's large cock, his spend and yours sliding down your thighs and dripping over his lap. 

“Your son is always hungry,” Miguel complained, his hands moving up to thumb at your sore nipples. You scoffed, snatching your robe off the table where Miguel had carelessly tossed it aside, placing it over your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you grinned, swiping a bead of your milk off Miguel’s lower lips, “just like his father."

[daycourtofficial]

Rejection

Summary: After some drinks, Azriel finds out you’ve been keeping a secret from him.

Author’s note: hehe what kinda crack was I given I hope yall feel fed these days

“Nothing stings quite like rejection,” you say, taking another sip from your class. A loud laugh fills the air.

“There’s no way you’ve ever been rejected,” Cassian tells you, popping open another bottle of wine.

You roll your eyes, “I’ve been rejected before, Cass.”

Cassian doesn’t look at you as he pries the cork out of the bottle, foregoing a glass and drinking straight from the bottle before he says, “by who? Someone blind who can’t smell?”

You’re taken aback, “by someone who can’t smell?”

He shrugs, “you smell really nice.”

You smile a little, “thank you?”

“Who was it?” Feyre asks from the other side of Cassian, moving her legs beneath her.

You, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Azriel were lounging around the sitting room, each drinking from a bottle of wine, reminiscing on past love lives.

Azriel looks at you as your cheeks heat, telling her, “it’s too embarassing, you’ll laugh.”

“Were they out of your league?” Nesta asks, intrigued by the new topic.

You gulp down your wine, making eye contact with her steely gaze, “uh, yes, definitely.”

Cassian’s laugh is boisterous as he claps your back, “well tell us. Who could be out of your league?”

Feyre laughs, “yeah I think we need to know so we can go see this perfect specimen.”

Your face is even redder, at both the compliment and knowing who it was. You sigh, knowing they’ll never give up until they find out who it was.

“Okay fine,” you say, breathing in deeply. “A few decades ago, after a high lord’s meeting, I asked someone out, they agreed, and then they didn’t show up.”

“Ouuuuuuch,” Cassian drawls, “what an idiot. That hurts worse than being told no.”

“Yeah,” you respond, “it was embarrassing, but I don’t harbor any bad feelings about them.”

You turn to see Feyre thinking about something. “If it was at a high lords meeting, surely we know them then?” Feyre asks.

Your heart begins beating out of your chest, “oh, you definitely know him.”

“It’s a him! It’s a him!” Cassian shouts as you finish off your wine, opening a new bottle.

Rhys strolls into the room at all the commotion, looking as his family devours his wine collection.

“What’s the point in buying all this wine if you all drink it without me?” He strolls towards Feyre, kissing her on the head before sitting next to her.

“She was just about to tell us about when she got stood up for a date after a high lord’s meeting.”

“Ah,” Rhys says, “when you asked out Azriel.”

Everyone stills, and your eyes are glued on the drink in your hand. The blood is rushing through your ears, but you make out a soft what amongst the noise.

Cassian throws his head back laughing, “you asked out Az? And he stood you up?”

His laugh is booming through the room, but not for the reason you think. You fold into yourself a bit, shoulders sagging as Cassian says, “that’s cold, brother.”

Azriel does not address his brother’s taunts, eyes focused on you.

“You never asked me out.”

“Yes I did. I asked you out to this bar, you said yes, and I waited there for a bit before giving up.”

“No you didn’t,” he says, pouring through his memories of all the meetings he’s attended over the years.

“Az, it’s fine. There are no hard feelings. You changed your mind or didn’t want to hurt my feelings by saying no.”

“No it’s not fine. I would have been there.”

You finally, finally look up at him.

Az turns his attention from you to Rhys, “how did you know she asked me out but I didn’t? What high lord meeting even was this?”

Rhys waves his hand, “it was before Amarantha.”

Feyre tenses at the name, but Rhys goes on.

“During a break I heard her ask you out, but Beron began speaking to me about something, pulling my attention away. I assumed you two went out and there just wasn’t anything there.”

“Which meeting was this?” Azriel asks.

Rhys blows out a breath, “Tarquin’s father wanted to talk about Amarantha and the threat she posed. We were in Dawn for close to a week with discussions that led nowhere.”

You wanted the ground to open a riff and swallow you whole. You even sent Feyre some thoughts.

I’ll give you anything if you kill me right here.

Her melodic laugh fills your mind.

Az adores you, though. I’m shocked he didn’t show up.

She pauses, then her voice rings again.

Also you’re hot as hell, who would say no?

You give her an exasperated look and are about to resign yourself to leave and never, ever interact with any of your friends again when Azriel’s voice picks up.

“I left that meeting early,” Az says, remembering, “one of my spies needed out, I had to go extract them discreetly.”

He looks at you, “it took a few days because they got seriously injured and I wanted to ensure they were okay before coming back. By the time I was done, discussions were over and we were back home in Velaris.”

His face falls a bit, “I-I completely forgot. I am.. so sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology but it was ages ago, I figured you got caught up with something or said yes because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“I said yes because I wanted to go.”

The two of you look at each other, forgetting everyone else was there.

He stands, walking towards you, extending a hand.

“I’m quite late, but would you like to accompany me this evening?”

You put your hand in his as shadows envelop the both of you.

The last the inner circle hears from the two of you is a soft yes on the wind.