#I suppose I did have tea like an hour late

[chronically-enthusiastic]

WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE ITS 8 ITS 20 TO 10 I NEED TO GO TO SLEEP HELP BYE

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.

{Reader's POV}

12/07/2012

Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.

02/01/2013

OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.

I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.

My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.

So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.

After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.

Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.

18/12/2013

Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!

I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.

04/03/2014

Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.

Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.

We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.

After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.

17/05/2015

Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.

09/08/2015

This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.

[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]

[kayjaywrites]

Ink & Beans (Azriel x Reader Oneshot)

D20 Dice Roll Prompt: 11. “You’re definitely the only person I would do this for.” Fluff/Humor/SFW

Summary: You ask Azriel to spy on someone for gossip and he does it.

Word Count: ~2,100

Content Warning: None really, Az gets a little horned up but it's not explicit.

Authors Notes: I have a prompt list going for when I have writer's block. I’m gonna start rolling a d20 dice and do the prompt it lands on, replacing the finished prompt with a new one. I’d love to add requests and ideas from you guys to the list!

XxXx

Azriel arrived at your favorite coffee shop three hours before you. Ink & Beans was a small business within The Rainbow, founded by a family of Fae known for their writing prowess. The youngest daughter of the family, Raychelle, did not inherit the family’s writing talent, but loved creative writing all the same. Instead of stewing on her back to back publication rejections, she threw herself into creating a safe creative space for herself, and anyone else like her. The result was a questionably named cafe with workshops, peer editors, late hours, and caffeine. It was a fool proof business model really. Even before Azriel got close to you, he enjoyed visiting the cafe.

Everything about the place oozed comfort. The lights, warm and dim, were soothing and complimented the rustic cottage theme well. The booths were cozy, yet supportive, and although Azriel had been nursing his tea for 2 and half hours he did not feel sore for sitting so long.

Now, it wasn’t unusual for him to loiter around alone. People watching and eavesdropping were a huge part of his job after all. However if anyone had asked him yesterday if he’d ever spy within Ink & Bean he would have said no. There was never a reason to investigate the cafe, he was on a first name basis with the owner and most of the regulars.

Yet, here he was, deploying his shadows and listening in to customer and staff conversations. All because he was a sucker.

He loved listening to you talk. It didn’t matter what you were hyper focusing on, he couldn’t get enough of your passion. So when you dove into an elaborate breakdown of the relationships among those that frequent Ink & Beans he was all too happy to listen. He didn’t like drama that involved him, but hearing other people’s drama was one of his favorite things about being a spymaster. He never got mad at unintentional gossip while on missions, it was often a highlight for him.

So yeah, he was a little invested in your theory that one of the regulars, a quiet male named Fin, was flirting with Raychelle, and that Raychelle was flirting back. He’d been going there with you for almost a decade now, and he’d never seen Raychelle show interest in anyone. If anything he’d witnessed her curb potential suitors with efficient politeness.

And you were talking with such conviction, eyes fiery and excited when he shared your curiosity. You swept him up in that magnitude of yours, the same pull that made you a best selling romance author he supposed. Your enthusiasm became his, and suddenly he was sharing his own theories.

He’d noticed Fin blushing at Raychelle on occasion when she took his order, but never saw him flustered when another employee was at the register. You’d noticed that too, and somehow by the end of the gossip session he had agreed to working on his day off. 

Like a sucker.

Just like you said, Fin came by on his lunch break and spent it chatting with Raychelle in between rushes. You were willing to bet money that if he listened in on the conversation, he would learn the true nature of their relationship, and before he knew what he was doing he was agreeing to stake out the place for three hours for you.

Only for you to be so wrong. He was a regular enough that he figured his presence wouldn’t be anything of note. Apparently his presence without you was fuel for the gossip train.

Jennifer, a young local artist who came in on her daily coffee run for her office had made an offhand comment to the new girl on the register, Heather, “It was rare to see Azriel here without Ms. Reader.” 

Two of the regular weekday afternoon dishwashers in the back were wondering if you were standing Azriel up, and if they thought they had a chance with you. This update from the shadows had left him fuming, because no, they did not have a chance with you if he had anything to say about it.

A good looking female came in, evidentantly a first time customer as she asked Raychelle what she would recommend, and then subtly but not subtle enough gestured to Azriel and asked if he was single. In which Raychelle said that he wasn’t.

Which wasn’t true, and he was sure Raychelle knew he was unattached.

Then Fin finally showed up for his lunch break, and Raychelle almost caught Azriel watching them as she followed Fin to a secluded booth on the opposite side of the cafe than him. They were just out of earshot so his shadows did the listening for him.

And boy oh boy. The gossip they overheard was juicy.

Raychelle and Fin spent the entire lunch hour talking about how obvious it was that you were in love with Azriel. Raychelle was furious at him for being so oblivious to “what was right in front of him”. Fin was starting to think that you were secretly dating Azriel already, because there was no way the spymaster of the Night Court didn’t notice your feelings. According to them, you looked at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. You checked him out all the time. When he wasn’t around, you talked about how much you missed him, and were here more often while he was on missions.

Azriel’s head was spinning from the new intel by the time you sat yourself in the booth across from him. For nearly three hours the most popular topic of gossip within Ink & Beans was you.

“So did you learn anything interesting?” You dove right into it, foregoing a greeting as you leaned across the small table, studying him with eager excitement.

“Yes.” Azriel took in how oblivious you were, so focused on him you didn’t notice the way surrounding conversations quieted down around you. Was this how it always was when you guys met up here? If so, Azriel understood Raychelle’s annoyance. How had he not noticed?

You shifted in your seat, your hand drumming on the wooden tabletop in impatience. “And?”

“You know you are the only person I’d ever do something like this for, right?” Azriel said instead.

Perplexed, you cocked your head to the side. “Uh, I guess. So?”

“So: I don’t typically just take jobs without some sort of payment. Especially on my day off.” Azriel leaned back, crossing his arms casually over his chest as an amused smile found his lips.

“Are you trying to charge me, spymaster?” Your voice rose in pitch, incredulous.

He merely shrugged. “The intel was…valuable. Figured I should at least get something out of it.”

You laughed, the type of twinkling delight that had a similar joy rising in his own chest. “Alright, alright you’ve sold me, whatever you want, but I’ve got to know what you’ve learned this instant it’s killing me.”

Azriel could hear a pin drop in the room. He clocked movement behind the counter, the two male dishwashers had come upfront, likely curious, they did fancy you after all. Their presence had his easygoing smile falling as he fixed you with a serious stare.

Whatever he wanted, right? That was a deal he couldn’t pass up.

“I arrived at 10am. From 10am-12:02pm no one spoke about Raychelle and Fin. There is no evidence of anyone else suspecting Raychelle and Fin to fancy each other. You were correct in noting that Fin would come for his 1hr lunch break. From 12:02pm-1:49pm Fin and Raychelle talked in a booth away from the crowded part of the cafe, but not about their feelings for each other or their relationship.”

Your lips parted, confusion creasing your brow. “Well that doesn’t seem to pass as ‘valuable intel’ to me.” You snarked.

“Hmm,” He nodded, unable to keep the mischief out of his voice as he spoke, “the valuable intel is in who they were actually gossiping about.”

Your jaw dropped open, falling for his set up hook, line, and sinker, “Ohhhhh, and who were they gossiping about?”

Pausing for dramatic effect, he studied you long enough for you to visibly grow nervous. “You.” Azriel revealed.

Your nostrils flared, your breath hitching as you averted your gaze. It was rare for him to see you rendered speechless. “No guesses on what they were saying about you?” He inquired.

You barely managed to meet his gaze for a second before your eyes shifted to a spot on the wall beside his head. “I have a theory,” you confessed, bashful, “but would prefer to keep it to myself until you finish your report.”

Azriel hummed in response, enjoying the way your gaze would dart back to his face, like you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. He knew that he looked at you in much the same way.

“Everyone here either thinks we're secretly dating, or going to be dating soon. Raychelle and Fin spent Fin’s lunch break commiserating on how frustrating it was to watch us. The people of Ink & Beans think you are in love with me.”

It was so quiet in the room he could hear your heartbeat pickup. He wouldn’t be surprised if it felt like it was in your throat instead of your chest, so Azriel continued his debrief to spare you having to find a response. “And I think they’re right, because they were right about the other person they were gossiping about too. I also was a popular topic of conversation these last three hours, they were right about what they thought about me too. I think you are in love with me–I hope you are in love with me, because I am in love with you.”

“Azriel,” His name was whispered like a prayer on an exhale, “maybe we should have this conversation in a more private location.” Your face was beat red, and you looked like you were about to pass out.

You were never one for making a scene in public. Honestly, this was all probably mortifying for you. Normally, it would be for him too, but he remembered the dishwashing males plotting ways to woo you.

“Of course,” Azriel stood, stretching his wings out as he reached for your hand and guided you to stand next to him, “but first I want my payment. Whatever I want, right? That’s what you said.”

You looked utterly lost, unable to look him in the eye for too long, but too confused to not search for his intentions in his facial expression. “Okay, sure, what would you like, I don’t have much with me right now so I don’t know why this has to happen this moment, but I’ll do my best–”

Azriel always found your nervous rambling cute. He knew you’d be upset with him if he let you go on for much longer in front of everyone at Ink & Beans. “I’m sure you can provide me with a kiss, unless you have a specific lipstick in mind for our first kiss?”

You gaped at him, and he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, his scars rough against your soft skin. Gently, he closed your mouth, leaning in slowly just in case you wanted to pull away. But you didn’t, his lips touched yours, and you melted into him. Your smaller, curvier body pressed tight against his front as the kiss deepened and found rhythm.

Too soon, reality seemed to find the both of you again, and Azriel was aware that he was starting to get aroused very publically in your favorite coffee shop. One look at you, and it seemed you were no better off than him, the gleam in your eyes sending thrills down his spine. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Azriel bent down to whisper in your ear, and you shivered, “I think I do want to continue this conversation in a more private location.”

You turned your face, lips brushing against his pulse point in his neck as you spoke. “Me too.”

XxXx

Upon returning to Ink & Beans after the mating frenzy subsided, you and Azriel were greeted by tarps, workers, and piles of building supplies outside of the storefront. Raychelle had been signing something on a clipboard when she caught sight of you, and hurried to embrace you, clipboard forgotten on the ground where she dropped it.

She’d used the winnings from a store wide bet to expand the shop. She and Fin had split the winnings, the only two fae to predict your and Azriel’s mating bond.

XxXx

My inbox is open, drop requests to be added to my prompt list! My other work can be found here!

[yok00k]

Igual Que Un Ángel

pairing: hellokittylover!/bimbo!oc x boxer!jk

genre: MATURE, fluff, lowkey angst,

“heaven must have sent you, love”

synopsis: after spending the entire day shopping with your boyfriend, you’re craving mochi donuts and bubble milk tea before going to bed and jungkook, even in his tired state, will do everything to make you happy.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: so much fluff, NO plot, jealous/possessive kook, oc can’t tell when someone flirts with her, tiny silent treatment, oc is kinda dumb, lots of kisses, shower sex, oral [m], oc’s head game is STRONG, head pusher jk, hair pulling, they went shopping for underwear, cussing, aftercare, oc is obsessed with pink/hello kitty, oc is so desperate for his cock and she must get what she wants⛄️(she was virgin before this took place), oc had a vid of her playing, mention of toys, JK is not trying to b obvious but he’s IN LOVE, brief cockwarming at the end, <not proofread>

author’s note: i def did not write this in between my classes😮‍💨 i just discovered that im mentally unhinged as im editing this in class. I have my priorities straights tho so here you go🥢

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

you suppose today was really wonderful.

you two spend almost the whole day at the outlet mall, mostly to shop clothes for yourself. you needed new pairs of undies and Jungkook being the glorious boyfriend he is, helped you shop. not only he paid for all your purchase, he also gives his opinions on certain cloth materials of what the underwear was made of. he wants to make himself useful by helping you out pick out make sure that they’re comfortable to your preference, he goes with you in the fitting room to try them on in front of him.

As you try on clothes for hours and hours in multiple shops, your boyfriend miraculously always finds a chair in the corner of each fitting room that he can rest on. a few hours later, you two arrive back at your place. jungkook initiated to carry all the paper bags you had as the two of you headed from the garage to inside your house.

soon, he began cooking the night’s dinner, which you really enjoy watching because he keeps entertaining you with his skillful talent and his humorous jokes. a quality time like this just makes you fall in love with him even more. you wish and pray that you can spend the rest of this delightful lifetime with him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

the hands of the clock signifies 11:11, which is usually the time you drift off to sleep. except tonight isn’t a typical night, owing to the fact that your beloved lover is sleeping over at your cozy flat.

although it’s pretty late, you two are cuddled on your not-so-spacious couch, watching a kdrama that was recently released and you still have the clothes you put on this afternoon: a cute pink long sleeve crop top and a pink/black mini skirt. you also can’t forget to add a pair of thick fleece tights since it’s freezing cold outside.

you felt a sudden cravings for something in the midst of the show. you desire for something sweet. and chewy.

“koo..” you murmur, distracting your man from the show on the big screen. he redirects his focus to you as he caresses your hair with his soft, yet rough palms.

“i’m craving donuts”

“want me to go to the convenience store and grab some for you?” he suggests

“no I don’t want that, I want mochi donuts” you cutely demand

“but baby it’s too late” he said, lifting his wrist to look at his gold Rolex watch. “aren’t they close at this time?”

these days, your social feeds are just full of ads, particularly bakery places nearby your place that serve mouth-watering breads, donuts, ice creams, bubble milk tea, and the list goes on. promptly, the phone that’s sitting next to jungkook was taken by you.

“look, there’s one that’s still open till midnight” you replied, showing him the navigation to the bakery shop that’s on your screen. his tired eyes glanced at your phone, then back at you.

“please koo?” you pleaded, climbing on top of him and giving him thousands of kisses all over his face until he’s got enough is the most effective technique to persuade him. how can jungkook say no when you display a behavior like this to get whatever you want? the forever answer is he just can’t.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

You two arrive at the place twenty minutes before they close. Since it’s late at night, you can see through the big windows that there’s not many customers inside the donut shop.

“oh my, we’re finally here” you joyfully babble to yourself out loud which made your driving boyfriend chuckle. while jungkook slows down the car to eyeball a good parking spot, you reach for your pink purse taking out the hello kitty lip oil to apply them on your chapped lips.

Jungkook carefully parked the car on the side of the road. He looked at our surroundings such as the front, back, and the side of his vehicle, making sure everything seems clear before he takes off his seat belt and gets off of the automobile. As usual, Jungkook walks to the other side, gesturing that he will open the car door for me. This man doesn’t ask a lot regarding how things should be in our relationship but the number one rule he established is that you could never open any door when you’re with him.

He quickly unlocked my door with one hand and offered his other hand to assist my body getting out of the car. As you got out, you felt the strong wind blowing your mini skirts, making them move up. but jungkook immediately takes off his zip up fleece oversized jacket to tie it tight around your waist.he ensures that the skirt won’t go up by walking behind you whilst holding your cold hand towards the bakery.

a scent of sweet caramelized brown sugar that you’ve been craving welcomes you as soon as you step into the threshold of the place. Looking around the store, you notice multiple neon pink led lights of donuts are decorated in the walls. the long honey maple stained table against the windows was paired with white barstool chairs. You also did not fail to miss that their white snowed christmas tree is still up, filled with rosy ornaments and pinkish lights around it.

‘this is definitely my new favorite place’ you noted to yourself as you feel cozy inside.

Your boyfriend wasted no time to lead you to the counter, only for you to see the variety of flavor of their delicious mochi donuts displayed on the front top. you can’t help but to drool on the sight, you’re starting to feel satisfaction by just looking at them.

“hello, what can I get for you today?” the tall male server who’s probably around your age friendly greeted. a little too friendly, in jungkook’s opinion but he chose to try to shrug it off. before answering him, I turned to jungkook “what are you getting koo?” asking to know what he wants.

“don’t know. you can order whatever you want for me” he responds as his doe eyes look up to scan the menu on the screen that’s mounted in their polished ceramic walls. Jungkook is on a diet these days therefore he tries his best to restrain eating sweets but he knows that cheat days won’t hurt if it only happens once or twice a month.

turning to face the server once again, you made up your mind on what to order. “hi, can we get two brown sugar milk teas with less ice and can you make one extra sugar please” you gently requested and the server instantly punched the orders in their ipad.

you take another look at the yummy donuts before continuing. “and i would like to get a dozen of the mochi donuts.” you pointed to the biggest bakery box.

jungkook wasn’t even surprised that you’re getting 12 pieces, potentially all for yourself considering you have a sweet tooth, which could be really extreme sometimes. he stands still next to you, amused by how cute you are, getting all excited by all these sweets you’re about to eat as you tell the the guy the flavors you want.

the server hands you two of their fresh brown sugar bubble milk tea & pink box that contains lots of sugar and of course, you happiness. afterwards, he declars the total for all the things you order. you’re about to tap in your debit card that’s covered with hello kitty skin when jungkook’s black card is already approved on the chip card reader.

“you didn’t have to koo” you murmur. your man always insists on paying for everything,

“i want too”

he does things for you not because he’s going to gain something or that he’s expecting some type of return from you. Rather, he does them solely because he loves you and he loves seeing you getting all the things you want.

for the meantime ,you look for a table that you two can sit at, particularly a spot where there’s a cute background since you would like to take some photos.

immediately, your eyes spot the perfect table right next to the huge windows to sit and take pictures in. you swiftly walk over the spot and your boyfriend follows you like a lost puppy.

“kook can you take pictures of me here?” you ask, while unwrapping the thick jacket around your waist and position yourself on the stool chair.

jungkook unlocks the camera on his phone, positions the cellular in your desired angle, and clicks the white button multiple times. he casually looks at the camera screen and looks up to you. when he notices that by the way your sitting is slightly showing your ass, and instantly goes up to you to fix it. you’re confused at first by his sudden action but you soon realize why.

“oops, thank you kookie” you chortle

when he goes back to his previous standing position, he catches the same annoying server maliciously staring at you, in a way that’s very unpleasant to him, which just pisses him off more. nevertheless, he captures photos of your adorable face while attempting to drink your favorite bubble tea for the camera. then, he passes his phone so you can review the images.

‘he’s such a great photographer’you thought. these picture will be posted on your pink themed finsta.

“can we go now?” jungkook harsly rushed. this place is alright, but that fucking server is just making his blood boils. he needs to get you two out of here before he does something not pretty.

you read his sudden unusual behavior and chose not to argue. you really loved this place, but you can understand that your boyfriend is too tired and just wanted to sleep. you’ll definitely come back though.

“wait koo, I'll use their restroom first.” you excuse yourself, feeling the need to change the menstrual pad that you’re wearing, you fear bleeding through jungkook’s leather seats.

you did your business pronto. unexpectedly when you walked out of the restroom, the friendly worker corners you, with something in his hand.

“miss, would you like to have this?” He offers the cute and huge hello kitty boba plushie that is in his grip. your eyes widening as they gaze upon the lovely thing. “I noticed your phone case and I thought this is perfect for you” he shyly adds as he scratches the back of his head, pointing out the pink Hello Kitty case you have.

“sure! how much is it?” you respond with full of energy. this plush will be added to your collection.

“don’t worry about it,here” he extends the plushie towards you, gesturing that you should take it.

you look for some type of unseriousness in his eyes but you found none. he does seem nice. you accept the cute plushie that’s waiting for you to be held, hugging it really tight.

“you’re really cute. do you mind if I get your number?” the man in front of you speaks. “so i can give you more plushies for free of course” he further explains, trying to convince you to give him your digits

but you remember what jungkook once said, and that is never give any other men your number. Although you can’t grasp why he doesn’t want you to do that, you listen to him because you don’t want to get him all sad and mad at you. angry jungkook is the least thing you want to deal with. he turns really cold and you hate not getting affection from him.

“I'm sorry but I can't give you my number. thanks for this though.” you give him a weak smile. you also hate the feeling of rejecting people but you also don’t want to get in trouble.

the friendly expression that the guy has been erased and replaced with a blank expression, as if ‘no’ isn’t the right answer. he snarls before speaking “Is it because of your punk boyfriend? c'mon pretty girl he doesn’t have to kno-“

“who doesn’t have to know what?” a familiar voice cuts off the man you’re facing before you can understand what the previous man just said.

jungkook approaches you, snatching the plushy in your grasp. “where did you get this from?” he sternly asks. he might have known the answer, it’s so obvious from what it looks like, but he needs to make sure before he beats somebody’s ass.

“koo he gav-“ that was enough for jungkook to vigorously slam the plushy back onto that guy’s chest, making the man flinch and slightly back off. “look or talk to my woman one more time and things will get ugly for you” he threatens, giving the guy the most serious stare, the same stare he has when fighting in the boxing ring.

without saying anything, he grabs your hand sternly and you two walk out the store. you still didn’t get why jungkook didn’t want you to have that plushie, it was perfect to add to your collection.

the entire car ride back to your place was awfully quiet. you offer to drive back home when you notice that he’s speeding and seems so tense, but jungkook refuses, telling you that he’s fully capable of driving back with a somber tone.. his tattooed hands aren’t where they’re supposed to be placed, your thigh. but you argue no further, not wanting to make him more angry than he already is.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

hours later, you’re gathering the sleepwear you’ll wear for tonight before hopping in the shower, which is currently occupied by your boyfriend. usually, you two always shower together whenever you’re sleeping at his place and vice versa, but tonight you received no invitation from him since he’s giving you silent treatment for an unknown reason.

despite the fact, you made up your mind to join him as you enter the steamy bathroom, the warm atmosphere welcomes you while you close the door behind you.

your gaze meets jungkook’s tall muscular figure, his tattooed arm up against the white wall, while head is pointing down as the hot water that’s coming from the showerhead runs down his body.

quietly strip down your clothes, you proceed to open the sliding shower door and step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him.

jungkook faintly flinched as he felt a pair of dainty arms wrapped around his bare torso. he knew exactly who they belonged to, his loved one.

he slightly turns his head, just to see you, hopelessly showing affection towards him in the midst of washing the negative internal thoughts out of his system.

“are you mad at me baby?” you worriedly ask, overthinking that you might have done something that might upset him or maybe he’s too stressed out on his non-stop training schedule since his competitions are coming soon or maybe he can’t handle being with you anymore. lots of maybe but communication is the only way you will know how he feels.

the question of yours sends a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. you completely did nothing wrong. he knows for a fact you can’t say no to anyone who gives you a Hello Kitty plushie. your tiny little head just can’t comprehend that these guys want something in return for giving you things you love to collect. you’re too good for your own.

now he feels like a total idiot, another part of him feels guilty for the sudden shift in his behavior, solely because he's so in love with you that he can’t stand seeing men look at your way.

you did nothing wrong. nothing at all. you’re just so goddamn beautiful that your boyfriend is starting to lose it.

he can’t help but let the possessiveness take over him as soon as he perceives other guys showing their interest in his pretty girl. the woman he desires to keep to himself for the rest of this lifetime, the next one, and for many more

jungkook crowds you up against the cold marble wall just after he turns his buff body to face you. wasting no time, he leaves smooches on your pouty lips and jaw. “didn’t I tell you I'm the only one who can give you hello kitty stuff?” he sensually whispers to your right ear, continuing to give you wet kisses. “hmm?”

“but why?” you pout, resulting in the kisses to come to stop. he looks at you directly in the eyes, “because i’m your boyfriend and that job is solely for me” he simply explains

“but koo it was for free, he was really nice but then he started asking for my number so he could give me more but i didn’t give it to him because you specifically instructed me not to.” you mindlessly babble, explaining your side all in one sentence. simultaneously, you grab the white loofa next to the pink one and apply jungkook’s favorite body wash. it still doesn’t make sense to you. you love collecting hello kitty, but the love you have for the man in front of you is significantly greater.

oh jungkook is really going to lose it. that fucker had the audacity to ask you shit like that right when you’re with him.

“and that’s why I don’t want you talking to them, they want to take advantage of you” he takes a deep breath

“i’m sorry kook” you mutter, attempting to cuddle his naked form.

“i know something was off with that motherfucker” he starts off, “keeps looking at you in a way i don’t appreciate” he finally admits, with his tone hinting a pinch of jealousy. “and that fucking plush- he’s getting on my fucking nerves.”

“all he can do is look koo” you laugh. “Besides, I’m already cuffed by my hot boyfriend. what more can I possibly look for?” your words declaring that your eyes are only fixed to him. there’s no reason to look at other men anyways.

“you’re only mine right?” he just needs to directly hear those words come out of your mouth.

“only yours” you murmur. and that reassured him. for now.

you stand on your tiptoe to kiss his cute nose, from there you smack your lips against his as your smooth palms trace his jawline.

as seconds goes by, the desire to express how much you love him is rapidly growing. you want him. you need him.

you detach your lips against his, just to fixate them on his neck, right on the pretty tiny mole on his skin, your favorite spot. your hand does its own job to explore his sculpted body, finding its way to palm his painful growing erection.

he knows where this is going

your kisses trail from his upper chest to his defined abs; so brawny and delicious. he follows your gesture, finding you on your knees, beneath him, your beautiful face positioned right in front of his hardening cock.

oh this is the one and only circumstance he would kill and die for to be in.

jungkook knows that sly grin expression you wear as you look up with those round doll eyes. purposely, your both arms push against each other to give him a good view of your perky breast squeezed together. with his shaft twitching, can’t help but to utter an uncontrollable moan from seeing you like this.

“can I?” you ask softly, waiting for permission from him as if you’re not in this sinful position at least twice every time you two spend time together. no matter what, you still drool by just staring at his cock as if it’s your favorite lollipop.

he quietly hums and nods his head while nibbling his lip piercings, giving you the green light.

you start off slow, giving his pretty pink tip covered with precum small pecks. smearing the liquid around your lips, pretending it as if it’s one of your lip gloss, making them nice and glossy.

sweet

“i only wanna do this with you” you hungrily voice out in each swift peck while locking your seductive eyes on his.

he brings his fingers towards your jaw, lifting your chin up. “open” he commands, directing you to open your mouth. and so you did, without hesitation. a hot glob of spit falls into your tongue, which turns you on even more. you quickly swallow it and resume with what you’re doing.

he continues to watch you as your swollen lips slowly wrap his thick cock. your mouth is solely made for jungkook as it welcomes him inch by inch. although sucking him becomes a part of your daily routine, you still need to take a sweet time adjusting to his length.

irresistible tears roll down your face as he hits the back of your throat for the first few times, but you’re so determined to make him feel good. you began bobbing your head back and forth as your mouth slowly adjusted to his size.

“hmm, so good baby” he muffles weakly. “j-just like that” almost sounds as if he’s about to cry from the incredible sensation.

you can’t help but to release a quiet whine from hearing him. the steamy bathroom is filled with jungkook's angelic yet sinful groans, along with the sounds that’s being created as you which arouse you even more. he’s got your pussy clenching over nothing.

your bent knees on the cold and wet ground are starting to get tired, but you pay no attention to them. rather, you take him even more, until his tip hits the back of your throat. you continue to do it smoothly, using no hands.

you proceed to shift your attention to untouched balls. your tiny hand softly jerks off his length upward, as a trail of kisses made their way from the underside of his girthy and veiny cock to one of the oval-shaped organs. wet and loud smooches on jungkook’s sensitive skin turn to sloppy sucking. your mouth is so full of him. a mixture of his precum and saliva of yours covers your entire chin, even some of it drops on the ground.

this sequence stirs more moans from jungkook, but this time he gets louder and louder. his slender hands acts at its own and gather your length hair into a ponytail, just so he can manipulate your head, to use you however he pleases

Jungkook pulls your hair back, causing you to lose contact with the sac you were passionately lapping. he leads you mouth back to where it should give its focus to. his throbbing cock. once his dewy dick is shoved in you, he pushes your cock drunk head to take more of him. you obediently follow the flow of the hand guiding your head

“such a good girl” he grunts, throwing his head up in the air, then focusing back on you. “only for me”. your boyfriend is still controlling your head bobbing on his length.

“you’re such a slut for a fucking hello kitty, aren’t you?” jungkook mocks in between deep breaths. “me or that stupid kitty cat? huh?” thrusting his hips into your messy and well-fucked face.

you just moan against him, not even bothering to answer him because you’re too fucked, your tiny little brain is wearing out as you keep bouncing your head up and down. and also it might be because you know for a fact that you could be a slut for hello kitty too sometimes. you’re in no position to protest.

the man above you grips your hair even tighter, demanding you to answer him. “I wanna hear you baby”

“‘mmh you, o-only you koo,” you sob. lots and lots of tears coming out of your eyes. “all I want is you and this cock” you mewl weakly as you desperately lap his precious tip, just like how he loves it.

“that’s it, pretty girl, I'm cummin’” he verbalizes, grasping your head forcibly as slamming his pelvis into your abused mouth. to this point, you feel dizzy and your whole body is worn out. you grip into his beefy thighs as you allow him to utilize you like a slut.

“hmpp f-fuck” he moans loudly, releasing abundant strings of semen into your mouth. he cums so deep inside your throat. not wanting a drop to fall, you gobble up everything as your life depends on them.

after swallowing, you show him your empty mouth, with tongue being out. you can see in his half lidded eyes that he’s proud, giving you a soft smile.

you were about to get up when all of a sudden the dizzy spell hits you real hard, causing you to lose your balance but jungkook catches you before you can even fall.

“hey, you okay? Did I go too hard?” he locks his gaze upon you, hoping that you will lock yours to him too. but you didn’t as you are sobbing and trembling a little bit. jungkook wipes the dries tears on your swollen face with one hand while the other wraps around your waist. he might have gone harder than you can handle.

“baby look at me please? did I hurt you? i'm sor—“

“koo i’m okay” you faintly cut his sentence off. he doesn’t need to be sorry. “just need a few minutes to recover” you explain. jungkook immediately understands that. he gives you minutes of peaceful silence, with that, he takes care of washing your body. gently rubbing the pink loofah in your smooth skin as he hums the song that’s been stuck in your brain for quite a while.

after showering, he helps you slip on your baby pink dainty nightgown. this dress is special. jungkook got it for you when he flew abroad for one of his boxing competitions. one day, he and his team were strolling around the fancy mall when he passed by a cute local lingerie store that you will definitely check out, only if you were with him. of course, he chose to follow what his heart tells him to do, to go inside and find a thing or two to give you as soon as he comes home. to you.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

both yours and jungkook’s bodies are situated on your twin sized bed. in spite of the fact that there’s not much for the two of you and one of you might fall on the ground if another moves a little, it’s not a hurdle as you two embrace each other’s warmth as if there’s no tomorrow. two bodies comfortably embracing one another. tonight, you’re designated to be the tiny spoon

“ggukie..” you murmur, hot breath fanning against his bare chest. “hmm??” jungkook looks down to see what his princess needs.

“want your cock”you weakly pleaded, causing the man to slightly chuckle. you must be out of your mind.

“baby, your body is tired” said by him, shaking his head to show his disapproval. what a silly idea that goes around your mind when your eyes can barely open. you’re really out here doing everything but to sleep. he continues to caress your soft hair.

on a side note, you and jungkook never had penetrative sex before. yes, he eats you out here and there and vice versa. but he never dares to insert himself inside you.

indeed you’re a virgin but it’s not that you never wanted to. matter of fact you’ve made up your mind and are willing to give your virginity to him. jungkook is well aware of that. however, fear of hurting you always troubles him. he’s afraid that you will go through pain, scared that he’ll break you: his fragile pretty girl

“need your cock inside me” you continue to whine. “didn’t I show you a video of me from last week taking the toy you gifted me? you said I did so well” reminding him that one video clip of you masturbating to the pink rose you got from him. how could he forget about that when he uses it to get off every single night? with full on volume too, all ears concentrate on your high pitched moans, giving him more than the satisfaction he craves. the thoughts of that makes the lust that nearly vanishes inside him linger, you just never fail to get him arouse even before going to sleep.

however, jungkook is still in his right mind. “that’s different,” he argues. it’s valid to doubt that he’ll fit.

“ok then just put it in me then we can sleep?” you beg, attempting to compromise. “just wanna feel you close while I sleep. can you imagine how much I missed you?” you’ve come to an extent to use the guilt trip tool to convince him.

he understands the emotion you’re trying to make him feel as he looks into your bambi doe eyes. looking so innocent yet begging for his cock. evoking his guilt to get what you want. jungkook recognizes you in and out, you won’t take no for an answer. also it’s not like he’s not dying to do it, as if he doesn’t fantasize about it when you sleep over at his penthouse. the amount of self control he has..

you have him on a chokehold. jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he gently lifts up the arm which your head is laying on and slightly gets up to open the pink mini cabinet on top of your nightstand, taking out a sky blue container.

“here, apply it”, throwing the lube bottle on your lap.

you’re stunned, heart excitedly does jumping jacks inside your chest. next time it will be you doing jumping jacks on his di-

“cmon cutie I don’t have all night” he blurts, interrupting your thoughts. you never get up so fast in your nineteen years of living. he goes straight back to his original position, laid on his back. he may act chill,but he’s internally pleased and aroused.

as you go down on him (again), your two hands get a grip of the band of his black boxer and pull it down, his semi-hard cock immediately springs out. you can’t help but to give it a tiny peck before giving it a few strokes as you point it towards your lips

you open the bottle up with a pop, squirting out enough lube on your fingers before gently spreading it on his tip. he hisses as he feels the cold liquid substance being applied to him. you trace the sides of his length, ensuring the reduction of friction.

he grabs your arm, guiding your body to lay down sideways next to him. a tattooed veiny arm from behind snakes around your torso, clasping your upper body.

“ready?” he whispers, as he nibbles your ear. jungkook earns longingly nods from you, and for a split moment he spreads some liquid using his lubricated tip around your private area before slowly inserting it in. you discern the penetrating sensation in your core, which makes you purr.

he continues to penetrate inside you furthermore, causing you to close your eyes and tighten your clasp on his arms as you bear with the ache. he fully aware of how you’re feeling as he’s also having a hard time moving in.

“bare with me baby” tensely reassuring you. “so t-tight, fuck.” his other arm makes its journey below your nightgown, traveling its way to your perky breast, delicately squeezing one of them. jungkook does the same and gives the attention to the other one. simultanously, he plants a few smooches on the skin behind your ear, attemping to distract you from the pain. you quietly release moans and groans as he continues. he’s inches in when he feels your wall clenching around him.

your tight pussy becomes jungkook’s personal paradise. it’s the way your walls are clenching around him is better than he imagined; unmatched from all the fantasy he creates in his mind about you.

“koo.. “ your fingers tracing the veins on the back of his palm.

“what? my baby can’t handle it? tell me and I’ll stop” he softly asks. a tear just drops from you leg but you’re too tired to even react.

“n-no just stay inside, i’m sleepy” and with that, you instantly drift to sleep.

he hums, a hand that was busy playing on your chest shifts to caress your hair. jungkook lays one last kiss at your temple.

“goodnight to you too my pretty girl, love you so much”

series m.list

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[keyotos]

"you know, if being cute was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!"

you have been at this for hours (it has only been a few minutes) now. wriothesley, who has been idly sipping his tea with a straight face, has not yet wavered at your terrible pick-up lines.

"that one was bad," he sips. you roll your eyes.

you clear your throat, "if fine was a felony, you'd be on death row," you give wriothesley an exaggerated wink.

he gives you a disconcerted look.

you pout, "okay, c'mon! that one was good!"

wriothesley puts his teacup on the table and moves his chair closer to yours, "i don't think death row should be associated with romance," he shakes his head, "that may have been the worse one today."

"i think that was, 'are you a crime? because i'll do you anyday!'" you laugh and grab wriothesley's teacup, taking a drink out of it so ordinarily.

wriothesley basks in this. tonight is a quiet night: the inmates aren't awake, sigewinne has clocked out for the day, and you are here. it's strange how you are one of the loudest people wriothesley knows of, yet you make the world sound so quiet when you're around. whatever your magic is, wriothesley isn't opposed to it.

everything about this scene reads domesticity, even though the two of you have been together for a couple of months. spending late nights together, sleeping in the same bed, drinking out of the same teacup? if someone had told wriothesley a few months ago that he would be doing these things (nevertheless with you), he would have called them mad. but here he is, sitting in his office doing nothing but drinking tea, while hearing you recite horrible pick-up lines.

"wouldn't it be the perfect crime if i stole your heart and you stole mine?" you push the teacup towards you boyfriend.

wriothesley winces, "maybe that was the worse one today."

"what?! i thought that one wasn't bad."

your boyfriend looks to the side, "it was really cheesy."

"clearly, you missed the point of pick-up lines," you lay your head down on the desk, "i'd like to see you come up with one."

wriothesley chuckles. you relish in the fact that you are one of the only people that have ever heard him laugh. it's an unexpected sound, and it always comes out more lighter than most people would think. but it's endearing, just like him; you always think that a light chortle from him would paint your dark skies to a clear blue.

"i'm saving myself from the embarrassment," wriothesley sips out of the teacup, on the same side you drank of, you might add.

"boring," you draw out the syllables of the word.

"what? did you run out of lines?" wriothesley teased you, taking another drink out of the teacup to hide his smile. he watched as your face morphed into a light grimace.

"i did not, actually," you raise your head off the desk, "in fact, i'm thinking of one right now."

"oh no..." wriothesley shivers. you shoot him a petulant look. he backs down.

when you think, you have this habit of sticking your tongue out of your lips, just ever-so slightly. your eyebrows crease just a little bit, not enough to be furrowed, but enough to not be at resting position. your eyes don't narrow, they widen. wriothesley thinks that if someone caught you like this on a kamara, your photos would go down in history.

finally, after what felt like years (it was one minute), you look back up at him. this time, however, your eyes are laced with uncertainty rather than flirtatiousness.

"if being in love is illegal, would you be my partner in crime?"

love. you guys haven't talked about it yet.

was that why your eyes were so full of nervousness? did you think he didn't love you back? if that was the case, then it'd be preposterous, for how can anyone look at you and not fall in love? although, wriothesley supposes that it's a good thing, because that means you're his to have.

one side of his brain is in doubt. it's just a joke, it says, they're not being truthful, it's just a pick-up line. but his heart says otherwise. if they were joking, then why do their eyes look like that? why are they fidgeting with their fingers? why are they gently tapping their foot on the ground?

love has never been a consideration for wriothesley. throughout his life, it has been abandonment and independence. there's only been room for one, not two. but you: you reconstructed his entire mind. so now, when he thinks about drinking tea, he doesn't drink alone anymore. when he's staying late to do paperwork, he doesn't have to be alone while doing so. when there was one, there is now two.

oh.

oh.

oh shit. your confession of love came from a pick-up line. and it actually worked on him, because he loves you back. he loves you back so much. wriothesley loves you back with his heart, his mind, his body, and possibly his soul. and he realized the extent of his love through a pick-up line. from you out of all people.

though, even though he's in love with you, he's not letting you get the satisfaction of your line working.

"i don't know. according to the my close friend, the duke of meropide, he says it's illegal to participate in criminal activities." wriothesley's tone is soft. his eyes are full of endearment. your eyebrows stop crinkling, and your eyes revert back to normal. you know. you know.

you give into an easy smile, "don't you think your friend, the duke, is a little too compliant to the law?"

"sorry, he's not changing his ways. but," wriothesley gets out of his chair and strides towards you. his hand meet your jawline, and his thumb traces the corner of your lip that's turned downwards due to your pout. with his thumb, he guides it upward, making it so you were smiling. he laughs slightly⎯twice tonight, which is something he did not expect to do⎯and moves his thumb to lightly caress your bottom lip.

he uses his hand to tilt your head up towards him. you know what's coming, and you excitedly lean in closer. wriothesley tilts his head down to meet your lips, carefully tracing every angle of your jaw as he does so. you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you two almost immediately. wriothesley can feel you happily grin into the kiss. you grab his shirt collar and pull him closer into you, and he obliges with no hesitation.

you are the first one to pull away, and it takes all of wriothesley's willpower to stop himself from pulling you back in.

"but?" you ask, chest heaving up and down. wriothesley, the bastard, is still breathing normally. "does the duke of meropide have any contentions?"

wriothesley shakes his head, "i think he could make some exceptions," he whispers, grinning while doing so.

he doesn't miss the beaming glow of your smile as leans in once more. and then, he knows that he'll be your partner in crime for a long time.

[writingsbychlo]

SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)

summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.

word count; 5988

notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all. 

Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another. 

The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner. 

Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten. 

It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence. 

He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in. 

You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch. 

On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her. 

Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met. 

“Hello, Elain.”

“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled? 

“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”

“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”

Apparently so. “Why?”

“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”

“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”

“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”

“You want to get to know me?”

“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”

“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”

“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”

“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys. 

She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.

The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks. 

Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again. 

Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees. 

“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”

“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”

“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”

“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”

“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”

She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had. 

“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”

It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”

Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”

“I wish you both the best of luck,” 

She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”

It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it. 

“I’m happy he has you.”

“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it. 

“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”

The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”

“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”

You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”

“In what way?”

“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”

“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”

“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”

“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”

“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”

“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”

“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”

She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”

“Led you to Lucien?”

“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”

“That’s awful!”

“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”

“This was Lucien?”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”

“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.

“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”

“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”

“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”

“When was that?”

“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”

“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”

“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”

You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—

Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner. 

You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang. 

Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth. 

It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?

Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him. 

He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body. 

“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”

He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling. 

“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”

With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it. 

Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.

Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office. 

Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts. 

Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match. 

Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.

One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat. 

Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort. 

Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work. 

It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind. 

He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels. 

Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him. 

You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him. 

This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair. 

“Azriel…”

He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form. 

“Azriel.”

This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”

You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head. 

Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after. 

Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”

At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed. 

“Az…”

“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”

Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”

“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”

He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”

Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”

“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”

Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”

He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away. 

You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips. 

You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair. 

When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it. 

“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”

“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”

Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork. 

“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”

“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth. 

“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food. 

While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”

“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food. 

His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter. 

“Let me cook, you menace,”

“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”

“I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction. 

“We need to eat, you need food.”

“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.

“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”

“And there will be more kisses?”

“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck. 

“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”

His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”

“Really?”

“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”

Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening. 

Today, 

today changed everything for the better.

[its-time-to-write]

three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

I am apparently incapable of writing anything short. This has no plot. I think the only warnings are like swearing and innuendo. It is literally just Jamie and the reader being in love. I cannot stress enough how little plot this has. Enjoy.

three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life It’s one of Richmond’s biggest games. They’re facing Man City on their turf, an away game, and it’s a big deal.

It’s not important in that it really matters to their status in the premier league, but important because it’s Man City. Jamie has thrown himself completely into training, so you rarely see him except to eat dinner and then fall asleep, his arms around your waist as you watch tv, fingers combing through his hair. He’s awake before you are, but as soon as you hear him switch on the bathroom light, you make your way downstairs to make him breakfast. The team nutritionist had a strict diet for him, one modified by Roy to account for all the extra training. You rub sleep from your eyes as you brew a pot of tea, waiting for Jamie to come downstairs.

Arms snake around you as you wait at the stove for the tea.“You don’t have to do this,” Jamie says, kissing your neck. You smile and reach back to him.

“I know,” you reply, “It’s just the only time I really get to see you.”

Jamie pulls away and turns you around. You see that he’s frowning.

“I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently, have I?” he asks.

You smile, lacing your arms around his neck. “Jamie. This is just a part of life. You have a big game, you disappear for a while, I miss you and I adjust. You finish, win or lose, and we’re back. I knew what I was signing up for.”

He puts his hands on your wrists. “Yeah, but, like, we’re supposed to be talking to each other and shit. And I’m so tired all the time that I can’t think of anything to say. I also’ve been a shit listener. Can’t even remember what we talked about yesterday.”

You sigh, move his hands back to your waist, and then reach up to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Remember when I had all that extra work last month and ended up working 60 hours a week because of everything that had to be done? I was up late every night, and all you did was bring me food and kiss me, then you left me alone. I think the longest we were together was when you let me sit with my legs on your lap for two hours. I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Yeah but-”

You cut him off: “Jamie. It’s just life right now. It’s not forever. It’s ok.”

He looks like he has more to say, but is interrupted by the kettle whistling. You give him a quick kiss and then point to his breakfast on the counter. You sit on the kitchen island while he eats, with your head on his shoulder until Roy comes.

—

Here’s the thing; no one knows you and Jamie are together. Sure, Roy knows. But Jamie loves Roy. Keeley knows. But Jamie said you’d love Keeley. (You did). Ted and Beard know, but only because they saw you two walking around the Richmond green late, late at night. (What they were doing on the Richmond green that late is beyond you, but hey). It wasn’t long after that that Jamie put a picture of you two up in his locker, so then all of AFC Richmond knew. But you weren’t public public. You had yet to show up in a tabloid or be seen with Jamie at a game or public event. You went to his games, absolutely, but you stayed in the stands, not the box.

He always got you a spot as close to the field as possible, but you would always meet up with Keeley and Rebecca after games to rendezvous somewhere else later. 

You don’t mind. It doesn’t feel like Jamie is ashamed of you, especially because the people he cares about know. But you also know that you can handle it, and if he wants to go public and kiss you in the stands after a win, you would be ok with that. (You might be more than ok with that).

But as it is, no one knows about you. He knows where you stand on it, so the ball’s in his court. It’s been a year of this, but you just wonder how long it’s going to last.

—

Finally, finally it’s the week of the game. You had been staying in Manchester with Jamie’s mum, which was absolutely terrifying at first. It was not your first time meeting her, just your first time staying with her without Jamie present. You left a day before the team, so when they arrived Jamie sneaked away to come visit. You are sitting in comfortable silence on his mum’s porch looking up at the night sky, when he turns to you and says, “do you love me?”

You’re taken a little aback. “What kind of question is that?” you say. “Of course I love you.”

Jamie’s forehead is all scrunched up again, like it was that early morning. “What if I fucked my leg so badly I could never play football again?”

You laugh. “Not sure if you’ve noticed babe, but I’m not really a big football person. I’m more of a you person, so I guess there’s some overlap.”

Jamie is still weirdly nervous. “What if I play football till I’m forty, and you barely see me like it’s been? What if I’m always on the road and always training and all we get are dinners and shitty 3am breakfasts?”

He’s removed his arm from your shoulders at this point and you shiver, puffing out a breath into the cold air. He notices without saying a word and drapes his jacket around you.

“Jamie,” you reply slowly, trying to formulate your thoughts, “where is this all coming from? You know I love you. We’ve been together for a year, and this has never been an issue before.” As you’re speaking, you’re seized by a sudden, terrible thought: “Are you breaking up with me?”

The words tumble out so fast, you’re not sure he hears you until he’s looking at you, aghast. 

“No, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” you reply. “But you’re acting all weird, and we’ve been together for an entire year and that’s the longest you’ve dated anyone and I just thought that maybe this was your way of letting me know gently that you’re over me.”

Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

Jamie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh. No. I’m not ending things. I want to be with you forever. I just get all freaked out in me head before games like this, and it’s been fuckin weird coming home, and I just want to win, you know, so that way all this time away is worth it.” He pulls you close to him again and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace, in sync with your own. 

You sit there till his mum comes out to remind him that it’s time to go get some rest, and it’s not until you’re half asleep in Jamie’s childhood bed that your mind replays his words:

I want to be with you forever.

—

It’s game day. You send Jamie a quick love you! text and then slip into your Jamie Tartt jersey. It’s from one of his old kits so it’s a little worn, but you always put it into his laundry pile so it comes out of the wash smelling like him. It’s not something anyone would notice, but you know, and it makes you smile. You get to be in the stands and know that Jamie Tartt loves you and you love him, and at the end of the day he’s the one you get to hold. You give yourself a shake, and open your phone to figure out where you’re meeting Keeley.

—

“And Richmond wins, 3-2 with a smashing goal by number 9 himself, Jamie Tartt!”

You’re screaming and jumping in the stands, overwhelmed by the fact that we won, we won, we won! The Richmond team are piling onto each other, Dani on Isaac’s back, Sam and Jan Maas jumping up and down like kids. You lose sight of Jamie in the mix.

“Well Arlo, it looks like Richmond has once again, exceeded all of our low expectations.”

“That’s right Chris, all thanks to Jamie Tartt’s brilliant goal. Looks like he’s having a good time celebrating with the Richmond lads. Wonder what they’ll get up to tonight? But what’s this? It looks like Tartt has broken away from his teammates and is running to the stands! He’s stopped in front of a fan and it looks like he is kissing a very lucky Richmond fan full on the mouth!”

“Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that you’ve made out with a stranger, Arlo?”

“Can’t say that I have, Chris. Can’t say that I have.”

It all happens so fast, that you don’t even know how to process it. One moment you can’t find Jamie and the next he is leaping over the stands, catching you in his arms, and kissing you in front of the whole stadium as if no one else is around. When you finally pull away, breathless, he takes your hand and helps you hop over the wall onto the pitch. Not usually allowed, but you suppose they’ll let it slide for football’s golden boy. AFC Richmond has caught up to Jamie, and you’re all on the field, screaming your heads off out of the sheer joy of winning.

—

“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” Isaac asks you as you wait for Jamie by the team bus. It’s the day after the Man City game, and you’re back in Richmond with a plan to hit the town yet again, as though the night before wasn’t enough for them. (You actually wouldn’t know, because you were in a very nice hotel room with a certain striker).

“Yeah, you know the only reason we invited him anywhere is in the hopes that you’ll finally be able come along,” Colin adds.

Any story of Richmond’s win had a somewhat fuzzy picture attached of Jamie kissing you in the stands with some variation of the title “Tartt’s mystery girl.”

You laugh. “Yes, we’ll be there. It’ll be nice to actually be out and about with you guys. Family dinners are fun, but there’s more to life.”

Once you found out that Jamie’s whole team knew you existed, you made him invite them over for dinner once a month. It’s one of your favorite things, especially because they all bring food to share. When it’s warm you do pool parties and when it’s cold you play bracket uno. It was nice to meet Jamie’s family, whether he’ll admit that’s what they are or not.

“You ready, babe?” Jamie asks as he slings his arm around you.

“BYE TED!” you yell. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”

— 

Sam closed his restaurant special for you all, and turned it into like a private club. You say like because it is, at its core, a restaurant. However, under Isaac’s supervision and creative design, he apparently has transformed Ola’s through rearranged furniture, dimmed lighting, and music into a place where AFC Richmond can celebrate their win without feeling crowded by strangers. You’re secretly grateful, because clubs are not really your scene. You’ll get all dressed up, sure, but you never know what to do with yourself once you’re there. 

Speaking of getting dressed up, you were feeling yourself. You had a light blue mini dress, with an asymmetrical neckline and a single puffed sleeve. It was more a-line than bodycon, but hey. You like a little bit of a twirl when you spin. Your absolute favorite part though was that you were wearing two-inch silver block heels, with straps around your ankles. The dress plus the shoes made your legs look magical. 

You and Jamie are in the bathroom getting ready, you fixing your makeup and him fixing his hair. He half-turns to you and points to his hair with a questioning look. “Lookin’ good,” you smile, and he smiles back.

“Oh, babe,” he says, tweaking his hair one final time, “I left my sunglasses back at the locker room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be ok getting them with me before we head to the party? I just don’t want Bumbercatch stealing them.”

“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.

Jamie shrugs. “Something about ‘no name, fair game.’ That’s how Jan Maas lost his favorite socks.” 

You shudder. Why Bumbercatch would want Jan Maas’ dirty old socks, you have no idea. They must be really amazing.

You reply, “Yeah sure, I hate being too early to things anyway,” as Jamie absentmindedly kisses you on the forehead with a “thanks babe,” as he heads downstairs.

—

You don’t live far from the Richmond pitch, so you’re walking across the dark parking lot in no time.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.

He’s swinging your hands as you walk. He looks nice, the sleeves of his cream shirt rolled up. Nice pants, nice shoes. Nice ass. 

“Yeah, of course,” you say, momentarily distracted by the fact that this man is going to get laid tonight. 

“No, I mean you’re always down for what-fuckin-ever, and you just let things bounce off you. And you like me, for my personality for some fucking reason? And I think about you all the time, when I’m gone or when, like, I have early training with Roy. And you make laugh because you stopped being afraid to be yourself around me. I just like you. And I meant what I said the other day, I do want to be with you forever. Not to freak you out or whatever.”

He’s stopped right at the doors and he looks so uncomfortable and earnest in a way that you’ve never seen before.

“I’m not freaked out, Jaim,” you say. “I love you, and you know I’m in it to win it with you. Now, let’s get those sunglasses and for the love of god, please don’t act this weird tonight.”

This elicits a chuckle, and he nods in concession. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The halls are dark and quiet as you walk to the Richmond locker room. It smells clean, for once. Like lavender. There’s a faint glow coming from the doors and Jamie pushes open the doors to the most magical thing you have ever seen.

There are candles on the benches and twinkle lights strung across the lockers. There’s a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room and as you turn to Jamie, awestuck look on your face, you see him kneeling behind you, small black box in hand.

“Jamie,” you say.

“Yes, love,” he replies.

“What are you doing.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it comes out more wobbly than you’d care to admit.

He cracks a smile. “Eh, I hope it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

You can feel a fucking tear forming in your eye and you will it to go away. You refuse to have streaky foundation.

“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.

“Yes,” you say.

“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”

“Right, sorry, as you were.” You think your face is going to split in half with the size of your smile.

He takes a breath then continues, “there’s no one else I’d rather have shitty 3am breakfasts with, no one else I’d rather beat at MarioKart, and no one else I’d rather do life with. Will you m-”

He’s cut of by you kissing him like you have never kissed him before. After a moment, he pulls away and asks, “Is that a yes?”

You can’t help it, the furrow in his brow gets you every time so you laugh and reply, “Of course it’s a yes, you dummy!”

Jamie smiles and then yells, “Lads, she said yes!” and the blinds go up from the coaches office as the entire AFC Richmond team storms into the locker room. Dani and Richard are spraying champagne in the air as people hug you and slap Jamie on the back. 

You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it. 

“Can’t believe I were so nervous about this,” he says into your ear.

“Can’t believe you think you beat me at MarioKart,” you respond.

“Oi, we are not getting into this again-”

“There’s only one way to settle this.”

Jamie looks at you, then to all your friends celebrating, then back to you. “Think they’ll even notice we’re gone?”

You shake my head. “Nah,” you say, “let’s get out of here.”

Jamie smiles at me as you slip through six different lynx scents out the door. “You’re going down, Mrs. Tartt.”

“Only one of us is going down tonight, Mr. Tartt, and I can assure you it is not me!”

“You can say that again.” Jamie sticks out his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows at you, and your laughter echoes up into the night sky.

[invisible-lint]

Something Wrong

AzrielxReader

Summary: Azriel is late coming home and you worry

Warnings: MC death, major angst

Word Count: 1.3k

You pace in front of the fireplace, the warmth coming from it doing nothing to warm the chill in your bones. Something was wrong with Azriel, you were certain. He was supposed to be back  hours ago. Typically when either of you went on a mission, you would put walls up, silencing the mating bond, to keep from being distracted, but if either of you were delayed for any reason, you took down those walls just long enough to let the other know. But he hadn’t. When you had gone to Rhys worried, your mate hadn’t responded to the violet eyed male either. 

You were supposed to go with him, but right before the two of you were set to leave, you had gotten news that changed everything. You’re pregnant. You almost hadn’t told him, knowing that he’d make you stay behind, but had decided being left behind was better than what might happen if he noticed your changing scent while the two of you were away. 

So here you were, pacing in front of the fireplace in Rhys’ office, waiting for him to let you go track down your mate.

Rhys says your name, getting your attention. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll be back soon and tell us why he was late and why he didn’t answer. And then we can kick his ass for making us worry.”

You shake your head, you may not be able to feel your bond right now, but you can feel it in your soul. “Let me go after him.”

“Absolutely not. Azriel told me why you stayed behind. I am not sending his pregnant mate, my pregnant friend out into a potentially dangerous situation. If I did, he’d kick my ass and have every right to do so.” You stop your pacing and cross your arms, glaring at the High Lord. How is he so calm right now?

“Send me after him.”

“No.”

“Who are you more afraid of, Azriel or me?”

“Azriel, no question. You’re a very close second right now though if it makes you feel any better.” It doesn’t. You’re about to argue more when a bout of nausea sends you racing for the wastebasket next to the desk. Why it’s called morning sickness when it plagues you at all hours of the day, you’re not sure. 

“Sorry about the waste basket.” Rhys just shrugs and waves his hand, cleaning it. Thank the Mother for magic.

“Don’t worry about it. If he’s not back in an hour I’ll have Cassian go look for him, okay?”

You nod, giving up on arguing with him.

Feyre comes in with a glass of water and a cup of ginger tea. You stand slowly, and move to the couch near the window before taking the glass from her, sipping it slowly. She sits next to you, taking your free hand in hers. She squeezes your hand, trading the water for the tea once you’ve finished it. You sip the tea, appreciating the way it soothes your stomach. 

“It helped when I was pregnant with Nyx. I can have some sent to your house if you’d like?”

“I’d like that, thank you.” 

“Of course.” You sit like that with Feyre, sipping your tea for the next hour. Azriel doesn’t show up.

“Rhys somethings wrong. I know something is wrong.” He looks at you, starting to believe that you may be right.

“I’ll tell Cassian to go search.” You feel Feyre wipe tears away from your eyes. When did you start crying? 

“We put up walls when we’re on missions. Would… If he was… I’d know if he was…”

Feyre rubs your back, trying to comfort you, keep you from breaking down completely. “You’d know. That you would know. He’s still alive.” You nod, letting out a breath. 

“Cassian is heading there now. He’ll find him, don’t worry.”

And so you wait. Feyre continues to rub your back, and you lean against her, taking comfort in your friend. After a while, you find yourself rubbing the spot where your and Azriel’s child is growing. You chew your lip. When Cassian gets back with him, you’ll have to have a talk with him about stepping back, at least for a little while. You need him. And you want to make sure that your child gets to meet their father. 

You must have dozed off, waking suddenly when Rhys and Feyre both stand. You look between the two of them, knowing they’re communicating mind to mind. 

“What is it? Did Cassian find him?”

Rhys’ voice is calm and even. Too even. “Yes. I’m going to go get the two of them and Feyre is going to go get Madja.” It’s bad. It has to be bad if Azriel couldn’t even winnow himself home. If Rhys has to go and get them. In your growing state of panic, you don’t even notice them leaving. You stand, pacing by the fire again. What had happened?

 It’s the smell of the blood you notice first, running towards the source of the smell. When you take in the sight of your mate, you start crying again. You make your way to his side, taking his hand in yours. “Oh, Az… What happened?” 

He tries to reach up to wipe the tears away from your face, but doing so must aggravate his injuries, because he winces, letting his arm fall back down by his side. “You should see the other male.” You shift, pressing your forehead to his. You don’t like the raspy sound of his breathing. The way his shadows seem to be lying dormant, pooling with the blood underneath him. 

“Just hold on a little bit longer, Azzie. Feyre went to get Madja.”

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If I die-”

“No. I take it back. You are not dying. You can’t die. I won’t allow it.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter, Love.”

You sit up, looking him in the eyes, ignoring how pale he is, how close to dying he is. Where is Feyre with Madja? 

“I don’t care. I need you. I can’t do this alone.” 

“Yes you can. You’re the strongest person I know. I love you. So much.”

“I love you too Azzie. You’re going to be okay.” He just smiles at you sadly. He’s not sure if it’s hope or sheer stubbornness or if you’re just refusing to see the reality of the situation in front of you. He wishes he wasn’t going to die. Wishes there wasn’t so much to live for. Wishes he would get to hold the child you’re growing. He takes a shallow breath, eyes getting heavy.

“No no no no, c’mon Azriel! You’ve gotta keep your eyes open! Keep your eyes open for me, Azzie baby.” He wishes he could listen to you.

Feyre was right. You would have known if he had been dead earlier. You feel it when he dies. Feel it as the mating bond disappears. It’s different from when you would block eachother out. Then, you could still feel it there, a warm presence in your chest, a golden thread connecting you. Now, your chest feels empty, hollow. The golden thread is gone. You cling to him, screaming.

Madja and Feyre appear then, too late. Not that anything could have been done if they had arrived earlier. You pull him into your arms, holding him to your chest as you scream and sob. Your friends watch on, their own eyes filled with tears. Eventually, your throat becomes too raw to scream, so you just hold him, sobbing, ignoring how his blood soaks your clothes. Then, you run out of tears, so you just hold him, not wanting to let go. 

Feyre tries first to get you to let go of Azriel, but you ignore her. Cassian tries next with no success. When Rhys tries, you don’t let go, but you do look up, your eyes meeting his violet ones. 

“I told you something was wrong.”

A/N: I'm a little bit sorry for this one and I don't even have Hozier to blame this time. Feel free to either send in requests!

[writer-komaru]

₊˚ᜊ₍ᐢ. ̞.ᐢ₎ᜊ˚₊ Devil’s Playmate ✦.˚ ; • . ★⋆’. °࿐࿔

✧Rating: Smut (exhibitionism + tons of dirty talk + face sitting + Fem/Afab!Reader)

✧Characters: Nagito

✧Word Count: 4.3k

✧Summary: It all starts with you accepting an innocent cup of hibiscus tea from your lovely but troublesome servant Nagito, the same kind of tea you’re given every morning. As you continue about your day with him at your side, you begin to feel a bit off. This weird feeling has driven itself under the expanse of your delicate skin, leaving it heated and flustered. But a lady like you had no time to entertain silly urges like lust. Little did you know the faithful servant you always keep by your side is growing more and more concerned for you. Don’t be surprised if he decides to take matters into his own hands to relieve that desire burning oh so painfully between your thighs. As you fall into his carefully laid out trap, you realize just who’s the servant after all.

It all began on a quite unremarkable morning. You rest comfortably upon your plush velvet armchair while reading a book dressed in a faded red cover. You flip through a few of the aged manila pages before snapping the book shut, unamused at the little waiting game you’ve been forced to participate in.

“He’s late,” you remark out loud.

It was ten minutes past the eleventh hour, and he was yet to arrive with your cup of hibiscus tea, with exactly two cubes of sugar. He’s always been quite punctual. “How strange,” You make a note to speak with him about this sudden shift in behavior the moment you next see him. And as if on cue, a very hurried flurry of fuzzy white hair hurls its way into your parlor, gasping heavily.

“My mistress, my deepest apologies for my tardiness-“

“Speaking before being spoken to? Who might be because you’re clearly not my precious lapdog,” you inspect your groomed nails and flick your wrist, as if flinging a dagger right next to his head to put him in his place. He shivers at the silent threat and gets onto his knees.

“I suppose I’ve had worse servants,” she sighs and gently picks up the tempered glass teacup he set down on your side table, “But you still have quite a bit to learn.”

He offers a short nod and keeps his head low. Maybe he’s finally got his head in straight.

“Now speak, explain your attendance,” you motion for him to sit up. He does so and smiles gently at you, as if pleased just to be spoken to.

“A million apologies would not be enough to make up for my lateness, my mistress, I know. I am more than ashamed of myself. The reasoning is I unfortunately misplaced one of the key ingredients for your morning tea and spent a good deal of time retracing my steps,” he recounts.

You spare him a curt glance as you take the first sip of your tea. The flavor is just as fragrant and rich as ever with a tinge of something sweet. Did he add something to your tea without consulting you first?

“And what might this ever so important secret ingredient be?” You raise a curious eyebrow, making him sweat nervously.

“T-there’s no need to worry; it was just a mere drop of honey, my mistress. I noticed your slight distaste for the new blend of tea I’ve been brewing for you so I decided to add some sweetest. The only problem was after unpacking the new bottles yesterday, I happened to misplace them. How unfortunate…” he sighed in regret.

“I think I understand now. I’ll let it slide this time but remember to be more punctual,” you add as you continue helping yourself to your tea and your book. You would have resorted to a harsher punishment if he was anyone else but you understand these little slip ups are all caused by his curse of a luck cycle. No use punishing something out of his control. You wave him off with your foot, too consumed in your own affairs. After kneeling one more time, gently grasping your clothed foot to kiss the top, he rises and exits the room. A small amused grin is hidden behind the crimson cover of your book.

Once your morning tea has run dry, it’s time for the next objective in your long schedule: A brisk walk through the gardens to inspect the landscaper’s work, followed closely by an important meeting with an esteemed author looking to sell their rare collection of discontinued books. Then the annual check in with the servants of the house to make sure everything is in order. After that is a well deserved ride around town on horseback. Lastly, to finish off your day you have a few letters to pen before dusk. Quite a busy day you have ahead of you, but you won’t be doing this alone. As you depart your study, Nagito, your servant from before, appears at your side.

“How are you feeling after your tea break, my mistress?” He inquired with a gentle smile.

“Delightful, as usual,” you nod, not sparing him a glance.

“That’s wonderful to hear, my lady. If there’s anything you’d like to ask of me, please, I’m yours to command,” he urges.

“Nothing I can think of. Won’t you join me on my daily walk out in the gardens?” You offer.

His eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, “O-Of course, I’d be honored! How lucky am I… to go from a tardy mess to a- oh, forgive my mindless rambles, my mistress,” he chuckles apologetically and shuts his mouth tight. You two make your way out the back of the mansion and enter the lush gardens. Workers can be seen throughout the sprawling green fields preening the hedges, watering flowers, and plucking weeds. Truly a sight behind. You reside yourself strolling through the winding paths of ivy and petals, each one more radiant than the last. As your fingertips trace over the delicate buds, you feel a subtle heat spanning over your cheeks. The sensation is strange but not enough to raise any concern.

“My lady, you’re looking a bit red. May I offer this parasol as shade?” Nagito opens the parasol and holds it above your head, blocking you from the harsh rays of the sun.

“Thank you kindly,” you softly smile at him before continuing your walk. As you examine the flora, the heat of before persists. It starts to make you feel slightly dizzy, but a lady must continue her task no matter the circumstance. Your wandering eyes lock onto your servant. He’s dressed in a loose fitting, rufflely white shirt with tight black slacks, a few silver rings adorn his fingers. They are actually his prized possessions he was gifted by you on his birthday, resulting in a hurricane of thank you’s and tears. He looked rather dashing, even if the outfit was rather simple. D-did you just…? You purse your lips and snap your attention away and back to the matter at hand. A lady of your high class shouldn’t be checking out her servant in such a unbefitting way. What has gotten into you?

“My lady, are you alright? You look a touch bothered by something. Can I be of assistance?” Nagito asks compassionately with an innocent tone.

“It’s nothing, I just feel a bit off today,” you brush off the question and make your way inside with your servant following closely behind.

“A bit off? Could you elaborate a little more, my lady?” He pushes, cocking his head to the side in a curious manner. Your dart around the hallway, noticing a few maids dusting the tables and fixing the curtains. A more secluded space would be best.

As if reading your thought process word for word, he carefully leads you to one of the spare rooms reserved for guests. You gasp as he hooks a finger under your chin to examine your rosy cheeks, the proximity making this unknown heat under your skin flare up.

“Oh my… my lady, you don’t seem well. Did you have a fever? But you haven't shown any other symptoms… oh, I’ve got it! It’s most likely a sunburn from over exposure to the sun? Forgive me for not fetching a parasol sooner, my mistress. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you by alleviating any ailments you might be having. Please, rest on the bed while I gather some medicine for you, my mistress,” he bows before making a quick exit. You humor him by taking a seat at the edge of the neatly tucked bed. The gall he has to give you orders… As you wait patiently for his return, the heat from before spreads under your skin, focusing its assault on the plush region between your thighs. In no way is this some silly sunburn; It felt as though your lower area had been ignited with the fires of lust by Eros himself. Whoever was playing this cruel joke on you clearly doesn’t know who they're messing with.

“I’ve returned, my mistress! I’m sorry to make you wait for so long, I have bad news. The author is already here waiting for you in the meeting room on floor three,” he races to your side and returns to his knees as an apology. How greatly unfortunate… Maybe your servant’s poor luck was contagious.

“Fine then. Let us go; we can’t leave him waiting,” you rise swiftly to your feet and make your way to the stairs. No matter how badly her body craves attention, a true lady must always put aside her own needs to attend to her duties.

“M-my lady, you don’t look well, maybe we should-“ he tries to reach for your hand only for it to be swatted away.

“Someone clearly has problems holding their tongue. Maybe I should rip it out so it won’t give you any problems speaking out of turn again. Would you like that?” You warn with a scathing glower.

“N-no, my lady! I would like to keep my tongue i-if that’s an option,” he chuckles nervously, shuffling behind you.

“Then know your place,” you brush him off and enter the room in front of you where the author is waiting patiently. You take a seat in front of him and cross your legs and Nagito kneels down next to you by your feet. As you and the author are discussing the book series you plan on buying from them, your legs shift around uncomfortably from the aching feeling under your dress. You notice his eyes peeking down at your shifting legs every so often before immediately glancing to the floor. He was always so very caring but now was really not the time for his inappropriate stares. Even the slightest attention to your lower area made the process of hiding it more difficult than it needed to be. When the author turned around to unpack the books in his briefcase, your servant placed a gentle hand on your thigh, looking up at you with sweet puppy dog eyes like he’s pleading for something. If it’s what you think it to be he’d be in for a thorough punishment later.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, mistress…” he whispered to you, his hand stroking down the thigh. You flicked away his wandering hand and focused back on the array of books strewn out on the table. You picked up the first book of the series and began flipping through it. The text was neatly printed, its pages pearly white and free of aging. It was in excellent condition, considering it’s a much older series. As you neared the middle, a strange tickling sensation kept up your thigh from under your fluffy dress. You bite your lip and ignore it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of someone you’re trying to make a deal with.

“I think I know what’s wrong, my lady… your body is all wound up….” His airy voice drifts out from under the tablecloth, “Don’t worry… a good servant always attends to the needs of his lady~”

Just as you’re about to yank him out from under the table, his delicate fingertips trace the area next to your lacy panties.

“Uh… if everything is alright, miss? You look a bit bewildered,” the author asks.

You clear your throat, “Forgive my rudeness, but there’s an important matter I must attend to this very second. It won’t take long, please wait for my return,” you give a short curtsy to the author and step away from the table, yanking your naughty servant out from under the table and pulling him roughly out of the room. You can only imagine the horror on that poor author's face. After a speedy jaunt to your bedroom, she pushes him onto the bed and curses his name.

“The damned whore, how dare you try something like that not only in front of such a famous author but also without permission. I should have you exiled from the mansion, if not the whole nation for that! What do you have to say for yourself?” You snarl, towering over him with a violent aura.

“My lady, please forgive my inappropriate actions, all I wish to do is to serve you,” he soothes, laying on his back and pulling you closer to him by the hips, “try as you might to hide your needs but you should know you can’t keep a secret from me~”

You try to step back from his menacing words, “what do you mean by that?”

“Would you please allow me the privilege to show you?~” he coos to you after pulling you back and onto his thighs. You groan as your clothes sex accidentally swipes over his sturdy thigh, covering your embarrassed blush with the back of your hand.

“Oh? My lady, if you’re trying to seem like you’re an abstaining, pure soul, forgive me for this, but you’re not doing that great of a job,” he smirks up at you. This devil of a man under you is clearly getting a rise from tempting your body's cravings.

“I told you, it’s nothing, now release me so I can go back t-hnngg~” an uncontrollable moan escapes your lips as he drags your hips up his body, grinding your sex over his stomach and up to his chest. The relief of touch on the throbbing location felt like pure bliss but you knew he was just messing with you. You wouldn’t dare give him the honor of another pleasured groan so you force yourself to look away.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t have any urges a servant like me could take care of? Not a single ache, bruise, or itch?~ If I’m allowed to gloat just a bit, I’m veerryy good at relieving urges~” He purred softly, pressing your plush thighs against either side of his head, your twitching sex hovering over his panting mouth. His eyes were glazed over with desire like he’s in a trance, his mouth streaming with drool, face covered in a deep blush. He looked like even more of a mess than you did.

“N-no, not in the slightest,” you stammer out.

“Are you sure?~ well, then… I don’t think you’d mind if I… just give this spot down here a check, just in case~” he bites his lip as he pulls your panties to the side, strings of drooling desire clinging to the thin fabric. He audibly moans at the sight, licking his lips.

“Oh my…. My mistress, it seems like I’ve found the source of the problem… your poor sex is crying out for some attention. Did something happen to make you so unbelievably turned on? Does it hurt… my lady?~” he murmurs to you, tracing a finger over your swollen bud. Even though the touch was faint and barely there, it still had your cunt clenching around nothing, an unsightly and almost inhuman amount of slick pooling onto his chin.

“Y-you… if my mind wasn’t so… cloudy, I’d knock some sense into you. B… but… yes, I guess… it does hurt a bit,” you hesitatingly admit, being met with a delighted moan.

“Just as I thought. There’s no need to fret, my mistress. Your servant is here to make all your problems go away…~ All this pussy needs is some good service and you’ll feel better in no time,” he chuckles with a friendly smile, a pure contrast to the sinful looks he was giving your cunt only a few seconds ago.

“You dare speak in such a vulgar way to me?!” You snarl down at him.

“Come on… I know your womanhood is craving something…” he teases, swiping his index finger along your labia.

“M-my ‘womanhood’ has no such cravings. Seize this nonsense of I-I’ll.. ah…” you let out another groan as he rubs over your puckering entrance. You honestly didn’t know if you wanted to yank him by the hair so smash his lewd mouth against your pussy or fling him straight into the dungeon and leave his incubus nature to rot there alone.

“Oh but mistress, you can deny it all you want, but your body only speaks the truth. I can tell how badly it wants my fingers stretching it out… or better yet, why not just let it sit right here on my face. You don’t even have to worry if I can breathe or not~ I won’t complain,” he grins and inches your body closer. It’s taking all your strength to hold your body up and away from the temptation nudged right between your trembling thighs.

“Just a little bit further~ the longer you try to hold yourself back, the longer you’ll be leaving the author waiting. You wouldn’t want him to come looking for you just to see you riding your poor servant's mouth like some sort of prostitute~” he teases, stroking your inner thighs some more. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Against every thought in your mind, you lower yourself fully onto his awaiting tongue.

“Tha-Ahh!~ that’s it~ there you go, mistress~ now just use my mouth in any way you want. Use me as the slutty toy I am, my horny mistress~” his voice cracks from the pure levels of pleasure racing through his body right now, digging his nails into your thighs as your body slowly begins to rock against his mouth. And damn, was he good with his mouth. You’ve never felt anything quite as pleasurable as the feeling of his tongue lapping up the slick pouring from your entrance, teasing the rim before shoving its length inside. His nose perfectly rubs against your sensitive clit, making your whole entire body shake. Your back aches as a needy moan rips from your throat, humping against his tongue like this is your first time experiencing real pleasure. You felt like nothing more than a common whore dressed in the diamonds and gowns of a privileged lady. Nagito had that effect on you.

“Why… aghhh.. how… Hahh Ahh… how am I… this turned on?” You stammer out between broken moans and grunts.

“Just a little trick I have up my sleeve~ or… more like it your tea~ heheh, but there’s need to dwell on it, just focus on using me for your pleasure~ The true role… of a servant~” he babbles to himself as the tip of his tongue nudges your g spot.

A loud moan erupts from your throat, “Hahh- Aghh!! Oh.. oh my… d.. damn you…”

“Oh?~ did my dirty touch hit a sensitive spot? What would happen if I did it again, I wonder?” He smirks up at you before thrusting his wet muscle against the sponges spot inside your walls that had you grasping his hair for dear life.

“Agh… you… damned mutt…” You continue linking together a string of curses and degrading words as you feel a worrisome sensation straining against your cunt. The more his tongue pounds into your sex, the stronger this sensation gets.

“Come on, mistress… just a little bit longer… the release you’ve been longing for for so long is almost ready to burst~” he giggles in delightful anticipation.

“I hate you so much…” she groans, knowing this whole entire problem is definitely his doing. The servant before you, the one slurping up your pussy like it’s his last fucking meal, has always such a tease. Images of all the explicit situations he’s gotten you into before flood your mind as you prepare for your final release. You hated how he tempts you into such lustful acts with knowing damn well his lower position of power in regards to you but every time he found his way in between your legs, it always made you remember the kind of servant he is. He’s not a butler, secretary, assistant, or any only formal word in the book. He was a toy, your toy to use for your pleasure, as he calls it. But it always feels like it’s the other way around. As his hot tongue fucks in and out of your tight pussy, you both can tell how close to the edge you are.

“Please my mistress, please grace my tongue with the delicious taste of your cum~” he begs in garbled words, babbling nonsense like he’s lost his mind; like he’s high off the taste of your sweet nectar.

“Aghhhh.. Hahhh.. ha- ah! O-okay… fine. But just… j-just one. Only once, got it?” You shoot him a glare.

“Yes my lady, only one~ only one, that’s all~ hehe… hahah… ahhahaaa~” his sinister cackles leave you questioning if he really means it. The quivering on your pussy gets stronger and stronger as it threatens to release sprays of steamy cum into the needy expanse of his mouth. His eyes roll back into a beautiful sight of depravity as your cum spills onto his mouth, painting his lips, nose, and entire face in a layer of thick liquid. The sight is downright appalling, enough to make anyone grimace.

You quickly recover from the euphoric blast of an orgasm he just gave you and tries to lift off his tongue, “I think I've had enough of thi- huh?”

Nagito’s face, more specifically his eyes, swirl like two dark pools of inescapable lust, dragging you in. He forces your body firmly on his tongue and continues to eat you out, “My apologies, but I think I’ve missed a spot… just one more orgasm should clear it right up~”

“Oh no, don’t you even thi- Aghh, t-think about it, you better stop or… or… nghhh hah~” your voice trembles with rage as you try to pry your shaking body off his slutty mouth.

“Please my mistress, just one more~ I can’t be a good servant unless I thoroughly relieve every desire your body clings onto. This won’t take long, I promise~” the mischievous expression on his face clearly states otherwise but the dreadfully good drag of his tongue along your cunt, giving your clit a couple playful sucks as if you're throwing any other needs out the window. The only thoughts you’re thinking right now is riding his face until he eventually lets you go.

“There you go… just like that~ use me… use me for your pleasure~ that's all I want, all I could ever want. I exist only to bring you a countless amount of orgasms~ my only use is being your sex toy~ so please, use me however you see fit! Just as long as you keep smothering me with that beautiful, beautiful pussy~” he coos almost like he’s talking to your sex itself. His tongue leaves you lost in the sea of desire, making you feel so good you wouldn’t be surprised if every servant in the mansion could hear your cries of bliss.

“What a naughty mistress… I bet everyone can hear you, clear as day. You like that though, don’t you? I think you do… you like the idea of the people who wait on your every need hearing you cry out another servant’s name… the prim and proper lady they serve turned into a whore all because of my pathetic excuse of a tongue. Maybe… maybe they’re getting horny… you like that thought?” His words and pure filth but you just can’t stop letting them consume you.

“Uhuh.. yes… oh… ohhh god yess~” you tilt her head back and release a moan.

“You like the thought of all your servants unable to control themselves while listening to you moan above me? I wonder what they could be doing… maybe they’re all touching themselves… they know they shouldn’t but they just can’t help it. They're just too horny to control themselves~ Just like you, mistress,” he snickers devilishly. All this arousal, all this teasing was really starting to get to you. Drool and tears made your makeup melt off your face, staining your angelic satin dress. If you weren’t so fucked out you’d totally punish him for a lifetime for everything he’s done: Dirtying your dress, interrupting your meeting with an important person, touching you multiple times without permission, disobeying commands… but you won’t again think of his tongue. His skilled, hot tongue rubbing against every spot in your pussy that had you on the verge of cumming was practically your weakness. He knew this fact all too well.

“Does my mistress have a secret kinky side?~ Could you be just as sinful as me?~ then come on, my lady… let us be consumed in desires together… don’t stop cumming till I suffocate against your pussy… and even then, just keep using my body. Aghh yess… to be used by you… it’s my only desire… I’ll please you… I’ll please you for days if you’d like… so please…. Give me an order~ P-please, oh please my mistress, order me!~” he cries out in desperation, his hips jumping in the air for any slight bit of friction his tight slacks can’t offer him.

“An order… I… aghhh… I order you t-to keep going… and don’t stop t-till… you fulfill your role as… my sex slave,” you finally manage out, greeted with an immediate guttural moan.

“Y-yesss oh gods yess I will, I- Ahh, I will, I will I will! For you I’ll be the best sex slave e-ever~ I’ll please you, I please you, I swear! I’ll make you cum… I’ll make you lose your mind… just watch me… watch me work my magic on your gorgeously horny body…~” he babbles between slurps and moans as his tongue shoves itself deeper into your gooey pussy. In that moment you finally realized the truth. You’re not the true mistress who uses your little slutty toy for your own pleasure, you’re the slutty toy he uses for his own pleasure. But there’s nothing that can be done to change it besides applying more and more weight to his hungry mouth. He chuckled maddenly to himself…

All according to plan~

Reblog + Comment + Like if you enjoyed and like to see more Danganronpa or Nagito specific content!~

(Sorry for that break, I needed a moment’s peace to realize why I’m writing in the first place. I’m back in action so don’t worry! Aaaaaand I’ll immediately go back to hibernation from binge writing this in only a few hours. Stay turned for my next post, love you guys!!~)

(Tags!~ 🏷️)

@nambii @carticarti

[fcthots]

Hello!

I'm new to all this, I just downloaded tumblr a week ago, but I spent my entire day reading most of your posts!

I absolutely adore your personification of Jason, and was thinking, could you maybe write a little teeth rotting fluff fic about reader having a migrane and Jason just caring for them.

I'm projecting here because I've been sick for a week and I'm just thinking of big Jason Todd walking up to me, putting his hands on my neck and telling me I have a fever, then giving me tea and cuddling with me because he's like a Teddy bear and I need him 🫠

(Also, could I maybe get an emoji)

Thx so much! You're so talented with writing!!!!

I know this is like months late but i dub thee 🪅 bc i thinks its cool!! Anyway, thank you for the love 🥰

You fell asleep early the night before. You mostly ignored Jason's looks of concern and "are you sure you're ok?"s. You were fine. Just tired.

Until you woke up.

You don't immediately open your eyes. Your eyes and throat somewhat burned. Unusual. And now that you think about it, the rest of your body feels like it's freezing. Your head feels like it's tumbling stones in a washing machine and that doesn't even make sense, but you want to cry.

You try to open your eyes but the light from the window forces you to immediately close them. You're so cold, but your arms are too heavy to move. Your headache is pounding and you're freezing and you're whole body aches and a million other things. Thinking about it doesn't help and you can't help the pitiful sound that escapes you. It sounds more like a cry than anything else. You feel something move and the bed next to you and it makes you dizzy. For a moment, you can't register anything other than your discomfort.

The next thing you know, Jason is leaning over you. His hand rubs gentle circles over the small of your back.

"Shh. You're ok. You're alright."

You don't know how you forgot that Jason was here. Your head is just so fuzzy and everything hurts. Another whine escapes and you almost shed a tear at the nausea.

His other hand comes up to sweep your hair to the side. He presses his lips to your forehead on a chaste kiss. "Sugar, you're burning up." His warmth leaves you as you hear him move around the apartment. He can't have been gone for more than a minute, but you swear the noise the opening and closing of the cabinets lasts for hours.

You feel his lovely warmth back at your side soon enough. A hand slips underneath you and you think he's just going to keep rubbing your back, but the other hand goes to your waist and together they push you up and you think you might die. "Sit up for me. C'mon. There you go." His hands steal their warmth back and you'd curse them if you could, but in the next second a pill is being pressed to your lips. "Take this for me." You don't even have it in you to think of protesting. You take the pill in your mouth and then he presses a cool bottle to your lips. "We have to wash it down." You try to bring your hand up to help him but you're too weak to hold the drink up alone. "I gotcha. There you go." He takes the drink back and you mourn its absence, but that doesn't last long before his arms draw you close to his body. Your head rests against his stomach as he asks "are you cold?"

You make a sound that is supposed to be affirmative and he curses.

"Shit. I told you you were getting sick." Its aimed more at himself than you and even if you did want to object, you couldn't get the words out. "Do you think you could keep down something down?" You shake your head no against his stomach. "Ok. Can I make you something just in case?"

"Don' leave."

He sighs and runs his fingers through your hair.

[xuchiya]

j.yunho {espresso for two?}

cafe love m.list || k.hongjoong || p.seonghwa || j.yunho || k.yeosang || c.san || s.mingi || j.wooyoung || c.jongho

I change the location from New York to Japan. hehehe

Jeong Yunho.

Just the name sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over you. Two weeks. Two measly weeks since he'd so casually declared, "We need some space," his voice as smooth and forgettable as the lukewarm latte he always ordered.

Space? What for?

It wasn't supposed to end this way. You and Yunho have been together for three years, a whirlwind romance that blossomed during your college days. He is your everything: the man who is charming, funny, with a smile that could melt glaciers. Spent hours lost in conversation, future plans whispered over steaming mugs of chamomile tea at your apartment after a long day of class or even workloads, the very one you now toiled in, perpetually surrounded by the bittersweet aroma of love and heartbreak.

The cracks started appearing subtly. Late-night texts unanswered, cancelled dates for "work emergencies," a growing distance that chilled you to the bone. You tried, you did— clinging to the remnants of what you both had, showering him with affection that felt increasingly one-sided. Then came the bombshell – a text, impersonal and cold, informing you of his "need for space."

Your world had tilted on its axis. The vibrant cafe, once a haven of shared laughter and stolen glances, now felt suffocating. Your co-workers, bless their oblivious souls, tried their best. Your senior head took notice of your distant and pale face–offering you to take a quick break which you deny saying that you just haven’t retouched yet after the morning rush, Wooyoung the ever-optimistic barista, bombarded you with motivational quotes. And Seonghwa, the stoic manager, offered gruff words of support (his way of showing he cared). But nothing could mend the gaping hole in your chest.

A particularly demanding customer snapped you out of your reverie. Her shrill voice, laced with entitlement, taking a deep breath, you plastered on a customer service smile, channelling your internal turmoil into forced cheer. Maybe, just maybe, a day spent slinging coffee and feigning happiness would numb the ache a little.

But as you steamed milk softly, the bell above the cafe door chimed, a jarring note in the morning lull. Your gaze flicked up, drawn by a sudden prickle of unease. There, by the counter, stood Jeong Yunho. His usual carefree demeanour was replaced by a shadowed weariness. Your breath hitched, a thousand unspoken words churning in your stomach.

He hadn't changed much. The same tousled hair, the same charming smile – a smile that now felt like a stranger's. He scanned the menu, a flicker of surprise crossing his features when your eyes met. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

"I—," he finally said, his voice strained. "Hi …"

Your heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A million questions bubbled up, but professionalism reigned supreme. You plastered on a neutral smile, "Did you find anything you like, sir?" You managed, your voice surprisingly steady. Adam's apple bob before a small slick smirk creeps on the corner of his lips, “Yeah … you.”You rose an eyebrow, finally showing your emotions that went from ‘Fuck! my ex is here!’ to ‘Let me punch him, the audacity!’. He saw your reaction, his eyes darted on the menu before crawling his throat, “J-Just espresso ..” “Take out or dine in?” “Dine .. in”

You look down to punch his order, “Do you want to add anything, sir?” He shakes his head but his lips move again, stuttering, “M-Make it two .. please.”

You breathe sharply before giving him the receipt after he pays for the two espresso, telling him to sit for a while. He nodded before mumbling a ‘thank you’. As you pulled the shot, stolen glances confirmed the changes you sensed. Dark circles marred Yunho's eyes, etching lines of fatigue onto his previously youthful face. The weight of the world seemed to press down on his broad shoulders. A pang of sympathy warred with the anger still simmering within you.Just why? Where did it all go wrong?

When your barista announces Yunho’s name, you watch in the corner of your eye as he places himself on the window side of the cafe with the two espresso in his hand. As you punch the order of the customer in front of you, a tap on the shoulder interrupts your work, you look over to see Seonghwa with an anticipated look over his usual stoic look, “Yes manager-nim?”He breathes sharply, eyes flicking towards somewhere before looking back at you, “You can take a break … someone needs to see you and let them explain themself.”

You immediately knew who he was talking about. You know Yunho never goes unprepared and certainly, he comes with a fixed mindset.

You sigh, removing your apron as Seonghwa rubs your back soothingly before he places the apron on him to take care of your position. You look at the side to see your senior head, giving you an encouraging smile along with the others cheering on you. You felt grateful as they have been supportive of your relationship with Yunho for a short while of announcing about your boyfriend with minimal information about him yet they never ask you questions about it until you do so.You approached his table, sat down opposite of him. He had an awkward look on his face, “Yunho please get to the point, rush hour will be an hour—”

“I’m sorry.” Those simple words were so easy to say yet the words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat. The air hung heavy with unspoken words. Yunho's apology, though sincere, seemed like the tip of a much larger iceberg. The man across the table fidgeted, hesitant to dismiss an apology so abruptly. The tension crackled between them, amplified by the approaching rush hour Yunho himself had mentioned.

"My excuse won’t do justice to the pain you went through and my sorry can not heal all those pain .The pain you feel is a constant reminder of my failings. I have doubted myself so much that I have neglected you and become selfish for my own emotions and at the end, I have regret all of those things, I have regret ever hurting you, rejecting your small offerings or even your love— I am sorry.” Yunho spoke with sincerity in every word he said, his hands were clinging on the cup of his espresso—controlling himself to not take your hands—while his eyes were glued to you the whole time.

You were slightly taken back, his words were piercing through your head. Your heart soars to the extent that, maybe just maybe, he did regret what he had done. You have known Yunho for as long as you both were before in the stage of dating, you have seen him grow to be a man and you have seen how he came to learn from who he was and what he is today.

Yet there goes the mind from letting you decide from your emotions. Your thoughts run through the painful days you have cried, doubted or even questioned your worth— you were also afraid to go on your days without thinking of your looks that had you wearing a mask to cover yourself— you were a complete and shattered person inside your apartment. The battle between your head and your heart, it is hard to listen.

Yunho, being the observant he is, took notice of your shaking eyes and contemplated heart. He knows what’s going through your head, every thought and he cannot blame you. Even he would be in a complicated mess if your ex suddenly came into your life after months of disappearing after a text so shitty.

“You do not have to talk or anything, I just came by to explain and maybe … have a closure before I go.” Your eyes that were fixed on the table slowly, trails towards his glassy eyes.

“Cl-Closure? Yunho what–” Why does he need closure? You were confused, your heart was expecting something more from what he had mentioned even though your mind had concluded that he will ask for a second chance but this? A closure? That is something you weren least expecting!

Yunho’s head nodded, a small smile on his lips, “Yeah– I have .. thought about it that you deserve an apology… “ He looks around the small cafe, eyes twinkling in admiration before his eyes settle back to you. The softness never left and it made your heart hurt, “I may have not talked to you for weeks but I have come across you a few times and I have seen you grow day by day. You slowly regain back that smile, your contagious laugh and your glow. You deserve so much more than the pain I cause you.” Both of your eyes were turning glossy, his nose was clogging making his voice slightly muffled yet no tears were evident.

Finally, he lets go of the cup and reaches for your hand which you let him hold on to. He squeezes them like he used to, “And you deserve those, you deserve a better chapter … without me.”

There, the water in your eyes had finally streamed down your cheeks when he gave you the smile that you have adored. A smile that reassures you that things will be okay, eventually. You’re gonna be okay and that he will be there to support you.

“Yu-Yunho …” Yunho shakes his head, giving your hand a final squeeze before letting them go. You jerk slightly, wanting to hold him again, “I’m off to Japan with my mom. Seoul will always hold a piece of my heart, but Japan has pushed me in ways I never imagined. I've grown here, found a strength and independence I never knew I had. As much as it pains me, returning feels like something I have wanted. Our paths have diverged, and forcing them together wouldn't be fair to either of us.”

Yunho reaches over, wiping a stray tear, you shamelessly lean into his touch. Yunho’s breath hitches, itching to hold you back in his arms but he has to do it, he has made up his mind that things have reason to happen, “Maybe someday, our paths will realign. Until then, I'll cherish the memories we made.” He stood up, giving you the other cup of espresso while the other tight in his hand.

He looks at you one last time before leaving the cafe. As the door chime hits close, your body shakes as silent sobs echo the, now deserted cafe. The tears blinded yet love never does it, it wounded you to make you wake up in reality that things were over and the questions of him leaving you were answered.

You look at the cup of espresso in front of you, and more tears fall on your cheeks as you read the letters, ‘Espresso for two?’ the inscription seemed to scream, each word a fresh tear on your heart.

You traced the lettering with a trembling finger, the memory flooding back. It was his idea, a silly spur-of-the-moment purchase during a weekend, he had to pull you out from your shift and drag you out to have the rest of the day with him. You'd laughed, teasing him about his overenthusiasm for a simple coffee cup. "What if you never have someone to share it with?" you'd joke, never truly believing it.

He'd squeezed your hand, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Then it'll be a reminder of me sharing this espresso with you so i could espresso my love for you," he'd promised, his voice laced with a confidence you envied now. You laugh at his joke, making him chuckle as your enthusiastic laugh echoes down the street.

A sob escaped your lips, the sound harsh in the sudden silence of the cafe— despite your co-workers glancing at you once in a while to check up on you. The espresso remained untouched, a cold, bitter echo of a love that had turned as quickly as burnt milk. But even through the fog of grief, a flicker of defiance sparked. Wiping your tears, you straightened your spine. Maybe it wasn't meant for two today, but that didn't mean it couldn't be filled someday.

You finish the cup in a go, eyebrow furrowed. You have made up your mind a little to late, but there are things were meant on a perfect time.

You look outside by the cafe windows, "I'll share the espresso with you again."

part 2? another ending? idk 😭😅

[20doozers]

★Sickly sweet★

TW: fluff, 2006-2007 Tom, sick Tom, caretaker m!reader, cutesy shit, etc

A/N: IM SORRY THE FIC IS A FEW HOURS LATE

Tom grunted as his alarm went off again, rolling over and falling right back to sleep. Well he was almost asleep before he felt a gentle hand on his back and a dip in the edge of the bed with the weight of someone sitting down.

“Tom.. c’mon we have an event today, David wants us at the venue by 2.” The gentle voice of m/n hit Tom’s ears, only making him groan as he curled further into the pillow he’d been cuddling. He knew they had an event today, there’d be lots of press and for a newly famed band they were supposed to have good press. But here he was, feeling like shit with a runny nose and sweaty forehead, signs of a cold on an important event day.

“Tom..?” M/n slowly rubbed Tom’s back, sighing when he heard a little sniffle come from Tom’s face burrowed in his pillow.

“Tom c’mon, what’s wrong?” He said softly, frowning when Tom lifted his flushed face to reveal his runny nose and tired looking eyes.

“Oh maus… poor you..” m/n cooed, reaching out to cradle Tom’s sweet face in his hands. He leaned down to kiss the boy’s head, the soft kiss lingering on the slightly younger boy’s dreads.

“…m-m/n..” Tom whimpered, only to be shushed by a gentle hand combing through his dreads.

“Shh.. just sleep, I’ll tell the guys that you’re sick.”

“B-but what about the interviews..?”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll bring you some soup and tea in a bit, okay?” M/n ended with no discussion, kissing Tom’s head one last time before letting the sickly boy go back to sleep as he left to go tell the others that Tom was sick.

“What?! He’s sick? Seriously?” Bill huffed, crossing his arms in a dramatic pout. Gustav slipped an arm around his waist, earning strange glances from both m/n and Georg but both ignored it as the two had been getting awfully cozy around the house these past few weeks.

“Yep. He’s sick, has a fever and everything, poor guy was exhausted when I went to go get him.”

“Then what about the interviews and carpet?” Georg questioned, looking up from where he sat at the table eating cereal.

“I don’t know, I guess we’ll just tell them he’s sick? We can’t let Tom go out there while miserable.” The room was silent for a moment before everyone realized they needed to get ready to actually go to the event.

“I’m staying here with Tom, there’s no way I’m leaving him alone while sick.” M/n shrugged as he grabbed a mug, beginning to make some tea for Tom as the other boys got ready and left for the event.

M/n sighed as he walked through the empty house, carrying a bowl of soup and a mug of tea on a little tray to save him a trip downstairs. Nudging Tom’s door open with his foot and gazing down at the sleeping boy as he sat the soup and tea on his bedside table.

“Tom sweetheart.. I brought you some soup.. and some tea as well..” m/n whispered, gently rubbing Tom’s back as he sat down on the edge of the bed, slowly coaxing the boy out of his fitful sleep. Tom’s stomach growled at the smell of soup, chicken noodle soup to be exact. The scent just barely getting through his stuffy nose but enough to make him hungry for it.

“…Suppe..?”

“Yeah.. that’s right.. soup..” m/n encouraged gently, leaning down to kiss Tom’s head as he helped the boy sit up against the headboard of the bed. Tom sat up, yawning sleepily and rubbing his eyes as he sniffled. M/n gently rubbed Tom’s back as he handed him the soup, watching the boy stare at it while his brain slowly processed the fact that there was now a bowl of soup infront of him.

“Just don’t spill it, alright? I mean, it’s not like I’d be upset if you did, I just don’t wanna have to change the sheets.” M/n said with a small chuckle, gently kissing Tom’s head once more as he slowly began feeding Tom soup.

The rest of the day was slow, the other boys eventually came back home and all went to bed since it had been a long day. M/n checked on Tom every one in a while, usually met with a sleeping Tom or occasionally waking him up to bring his medication for his stuffy nose and sore throat.

M/n hummed as he carried the small bag of medication and such he’d gotten at the store, some coughdrops, medicine, overall things for Tom’s comfort. He pushed the door open, seeing a groggy looking Tom sat in bed rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning Prinzessin.” M/n teased, knowing full well it was the afternoon as he approached Tom’s bed and sat on the edge, setting the bag of items on the bedside table.

“I got you some stuff Tom. Coughdrops, medicine, just some stuff you might need.”

“…was..?” Tom asked in a raspy tone, looking at m/n with exhaustion clouded eyes.

“Nothing, just take it easy maus..” m/n gently kissed Tom’s head, the younger boy groggily whining and wrapping his arms around m/n in a weak plead for him to stay.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stay sweetheart.” M/n slid under the blankets with Tom, propped up on the pillows before patting his chest for Tom to lay down and cuddle with him.

“Nap time, hm?” M/n chuckled as Tom laid on him, tucking his head beneath m/n’s chin and yawning, his arms snaking around m/n’s waist to make sure he didn’t leave. M/n wrapped his arms around Tom, gently combing his fingers through Tom’s dreads. His poor baby, all sick and tired; poor Tom just needed some cuddles, kisses, and soup.. and medicine of course.

“Zeit für ein Nickerchen… schlaf gut mein Schatz..” M/n whispered, kissing Tom’s head one last time before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep with Tom. He didn’t care if he got sick, he got to take care of Tom and that’s what mattered.

YIPPEEE! Another Tom fic to add to my masterlist! Also happy fall! Halloween season is upon us and in October you guys might get a special Halloween fic! Love you guys!!!

Tags: @itsmealaiahh @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @billskeis @divinelolita @d0wn-in-the-morgue

[jifanjiang0710]

Closed Doors

yan secretary! zhongli x ceo! reader

Lantern Rite was fast approaching. From the glass windows that extended from the ledge at the bottom to the expanse of the ceiling, you could see that every corner and alley was alight with crimson silk and flowers, couplets and ribbons, lights flashing incessantly even in the mind’s eye. Your own office building had some, sporting of the festivities despite the heavy workload the staff have been burdened with recently.

A hand on your shoulder, a whisper of your name, by your ear.

“You have worked hard. Would you care to chat over dinner?”

“...I’m busy, tonight.”

Zhongli pulled back, gently, as if he had taken the rejection well. When has he ever, in this one-sided… situationship… thing?

“Then let me drive you home.”

“No, I’m fine.” You feel like throwing up, even though you had not eaten in many hours. The last time that occured…

No words. He is displeased, and it strikes a hot bolt of guilt through your veins. He did only mean the best for you, your trusted secretary.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“I can assure you, my dear, it is no hassle at all. Do you not trust me to keep you safe, after all these years?”

You sigh. He speaks much like a doting grandfather. Your eyes trail to the two long red strips on the office door.

“ ‘Longevity like the highest West mountains, blossoming relationships akin to the depth of the Eastern sea.’ Isn’t the second part a bit out of place, Zhongli?”

The man in question leaned in, lowering his glasses and scrutinising the words on the couplet. “So it is.”

“Nothing more to say?” That was uncharacteristic of your secretary.

Zhongli coughed, as if to distract that. “I find the emphasis on interpersonal relations between persons agreeable. Is that not something you wish to have in your life, [Name]?”

“I… suppose?”

You knew he wrote it, and dare not remove it from the front doors of the company. You had to settle with unmatching couplets for the next month.

“Speaking of which, [Name]...” he said, tailing behind you at such a leisurely pace that you always had to stop several times for him to catch up. “The, ah, schedule for the company celebration on the second day of Lantern Rite has been updated. I have assigned your seating arrangement near-”

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. I won’t be around next month. I’m going back with my family to celebrate.”

…

“Zhongli?”

Why is he…disappointed? It is perfectly fine and common, for the overworked CEO to take time off to visit their loved ones for the holidays. Zhongli still feels an ache in his rustic heart as you said that.

You wouldn’t be spending Lantern Rite with him.

Last year, and the year before that, and the year before as well, you had; too busy slaving for the survival and growth of the company to take the journey home. He doesn’t know what to do with the chip at his feelings knowing you will not be around this year, even if it only consists of the two of you working late nights at the office, and him replacing your lukewarm cup of tea from time to time. By the time he replies you have arrived at your private office.

“... I see.”

After all he’s done for you, as well. Do you view him as nothing but a subordinate? 

Zhongli chided himself, shelving these thoughts for later. His younger self would succumb to petty, childish musings like these, and he would imagine he has matured.

He sees you falter, perhaps noticing the shift in mood. “Are you going anywhere for Lantern Rite?” you asked.

He smiles, not too broadly, making sure to keep his eyes still.

“Where has an old man like me to go, except for work?”

To the untrained eye, you seem unphased, but your secretary knows better. With a little observance, he can detect your uncomfortable twitches, fidgeting, wandering eyes. And, contrary to public belief, Zhongli can be very observant. How do you think he picks out the gem amongst stones? To him, you are that very diamond he so desires.

“Please, you are hardly half the age you act. You could… take a trip somewhere south, escape the cold…”

How intriguing. Before you can blink he towered over you, arm brushing against your shoulder. Zhongli looked you directly in the eyes, without a hint of warmth or the usual wise whimsy he conducts himself with.

“A most interesting suggestion. However I do not intend to go holidaying off by myself.”

You had no response to that, still recovering from the apparent change in attitude of your secretary.

“Not to mention, I would… how do I phrase this… find myself missing you terribly.”

For a moment, you think you see the amber in his eyes morph into a disgusting, bloody red. It could easily be passed off as reflection from the hanging lanterns.

He continues, when you don’t speak. “So, when you return to your, ah, loved ones, partake in the wonders of tradition and communal gathering… please think of me as well.”

A sweet statement turned sinister. Was this how he had gotten you to stay for the past year, and all the Lantern Rite’s before that?

Come to think of it, you don’t know why you were so busy back then either.

“After all, [Name]...”

He would do anything to keep you here, under his watchful eye and within his clutches.

“What is a poor old man to do, without you?”

He tried to play it off as a joke, a light-hearted statement made meant for mild amusement. You seemed to take it well, offering a hesitant chuckle. If you find this off-putting, he would hate for you to discover what he did to earn his position as your secretary. When he was young it would have been much more… how to put it? Physically forceful. 

The bloodlust from them has since faded. How would you feel seeing him slathered in crimson? Cringe in fear and revulsion, or praise him for his devotion?

He finds violence by his own hands unnecessary, now. He can do just as much and more with the influence he currently wields.

The manager who tried to seduce you, the owner of a rival company’s snark comments, all the scathing words of Internet users who think it so clever to be cruel to you behind a screen… one way or another, he has taken care of them as a good secretary would.

All that has paid off. Now he is your most trusted staff, the one who understood every quirk and minute action. No one had been through every high and low, seen you inside and out like he has.

He caresses you so gently, as if you were the most delicate petal or the most fragile diamond. As if all this was right and normal, for a secretary to do.

Who would suspect Zhongli the gentleman, collected, distinguished and composed of such depravity?

“Good morning, dear. Happy Lantern Rite.”

You trusted him, wholeheartedly.

But when you eventually wake up in his arms, in his bed, to the sound of firecrackers and joyful festive cheers, even after he promised the last time that it was a one-time mistake and would not happen again, you’re not quite sure you do, anymore.

[yizhou-time]

[ 05.30 ] idol!wooyoung — angst / open ending(?)

the argument from six hours ago was still ringing in your head when wooyoung sat with you. the pair of you situated on the stairs outside the home you owned, hot drink in hand. originally you wanted some time to think but he wasn’t going to have you out there alone in the dark. he turned to you, observing you with the street lamp being the only thing lighting up the area. you knew he was looking but you didn’t have the energy to acknowledge it and instead stared forward while sipping your tea.

it was quiet for a while. both of you sat shoulder to shoulder with words at the tip of your tongue but neither of you knew how to say anything without hurting the other.

time goes by and you finish your drink, after placing the mug down next to you wooyoung takes it as an opportunity to lock his fingers with yours. his other hand reaches over to fix your jacket before he leans on your shoulder.

“i’ll love you harder, i promise. i’ll love you the way you deserve. what i’ve been doing isn’t fair. you didn’t sign up for this, it was a stupid thing to say, no one deserves to be pushed around.” he snuggles in closer to you, sighing as he does. “i really do love you, i don’t know why i got so bad at showing you. i’m so sorry.”

he expects you to respond however you’re still frozen in place. this happened all the time. you argue, he says something out of line, you say things in retaliation but not once has he apologised before. it was weird.

“you made me cry.”

“i know and i’m sorry, my love.”

“night after night i’d be sat here or in bed or wherever you left me and i’d just cry. i never said anything because i didn’t want to change anyone’s perception of us. even when you’re right next to me i’ll always miss you.” he lifts his head up, confused, and this time you turn to him while placing your other hand on his. “i’ll miss what we had and who we were no matter how many times we make up.”

you watch as tears pool in his eyes. he’s hurt but he understands it’s not your fault. it’s his. he lifts your hand up and places a kiss on the top, before he can do anything more though you pull your hands out of his grasp.

“maybe you’re the right person at the wrong time.” you pick up your mug and stand up, ready to go in.

wooyoung grabs your hand quickly. “if i was the right person then there would be no wrong time.”

“then maybe we aren’t supposed to be together.”

he watches you walk inside while he sits on the steps alone. the soft click of the door shutting reminds him how alone he really is at the moment. each tear falls one by one and there’s nothing he can do to stop them. soon the quiet sobs turn into quiet wails and pleas for you to still love him. he imagines that this is what it was like for you, either waiting for him until early morning the next day or him walking out after another spat. he had to prove to you he loved you before it was too late and you were gone for good.

you listen to his cries with your back to the door. you could go out there and comfort him but your heart reminds you that he never did the same for you so instead you wash up your mug quietly and go back to bed. you’re sure wooyoung will join you eventually, he always does.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I’m feeling sad can konig cuddle me 😪

🩷🩷🩷

Light angst, comfort, tooth rotting fluff, yandere undertones

It’s not romantic to have a boyfriend in the military. It really is not.

Your man is always away, and the stimulating aspects of mutual pining dry off quickly. In the end, you’re both just lonely, and anxious, and jealous, and horny.

Usually, the first week goes by just fine. You’re quite glad that the big man is away and you have the house all to yourself. You stay up late now that König is not there to supervise you, and you can walk around in nothing but his tee and your underwear without a giant sneaking up to you from behind and smothering you in a crushing hug or picking you up and twirling you around like you’re a doll.

He always tells you (lovingly) that you demand so much attention, that you’re like a little pet he has to take good care of. You always pout at him for saying such things because König is the most co-dependent, touch-starved man you have ever met. (You don’t tell that to him, of course. And König would simply deny it even if you did.)

The second week is way harder.

You start to miss the smothering and the cooing and the cuddles and the sex. You start to miss the way he brings you your morning tea and then attacks you if you’re still in bed. You were always the morning person out of the two of you. König had already gone for a short run or done 50 pushups before you were even fully awake.

In the third week, you start to cuddle his blanket and pillow. You even cry into them because they smell of him but are far too soft and tiny to be any kind of compensation for his muscles and safety. You two can’t even text or talk – not to speak of having a cute but raunchy little video call – because he’s somewhere where there’s no connection, no internet, nothing.

Familiar fears creep up on you at the end of the third week. You know König is supposed to come home tomorrow but there’s still no sign of him having returned from the mission safely. Usually, he at least sends a text; normally, he would call and you two would talk on the phone for hours. He would ask so many questions about how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, who you’ve seen, have you remembered to take care of yourself, eat healthy and drink enough water, silly things like that. It sometimes feels like an interrogation – as if you can’t even tie your own shoelaces when König is away. And you know he’s a little too possessive… but you can’t help but giggle sometimes, which in turn only makes him more serious. Once he even scolded you, saying "Zis is not funny" (with his terribly funny, sexy accent.)

He always, always has to make sure his girl is safe and that nothing bad has happened to his pet while he has been away. But now… there’s nothing. Only silence.

The key turns on your front door lock at 15.10 sharp the next day.

For the first time ever, you actually run to him. You don’t even have time to look him in the eyes; you simply collide against his chest, your arms go around him while relief washes over you like a warm, lovely wave.

"Hallo little one," he’s surprised at your advances – usually, it’s he who comes to you and lifts you from the ground with a hug. Now he freezes from the wall of your emotion that he’s met with before he’s even gotten his shoes off. Then his arms close around you, pressing you against the sweet, sturdy darkness of his chest.

"Liebling… Kleine Schatz. I missed you so much."

He sounds so relieved to see you too that you almost start to cry. If you’ve been an anxious mess for not having heard from him in three whole weeks, you can only imagine how lovelorn König has been. He’s stronger than you in many ways, but you know you’re the Achilles’ heel of this man. You’re an addiction, an obsession – perhaps it’s not healthy, but neither of you are strong enough to fight the connection you two have.

"I missed you too," you mumble in his chest, squeezing him even tighter, pressing yourself against him furiously until your heart starts to feel like melting ice cream on a sunny day.

You stay like that for a while, breathing together, relaxing into each other. Then he moves to slowly get his shoes off all the while still holding you, scoops you up in his arms, and you reach to place your hands around his neck in an instinct. He must see the sorrow in your eyes as he looks down at the pitiful, pathetic you, trying to hold on to him while he walks with you in his carry, marches through life with you in his arms like you weigh nothing. He looks at you with concern through the whole journey to where your bedroom is. You feel your bottom lip pout again as he lays you on the bed.

"Little angel… Is everything alright?" He asks when he settles there beside you and takes you back in his arms. Your leg drags up and over him – you’re built small compared to this giant, but his hips are so narrow that your thigh comes to rest on his frame like it has always belonged there.

"Yes," you whimper, cringing at how pathetic you sound. Everything is alright. Everything's perfect now that he’s here. You guess you’re a bit dependent, too...

He tells you he had to destroy his old phone because of some breach in security. That’s why he couldn’t call you. The mission was a mess, and everything that could go wrong, went wrong. He got back yesterday with fresh scrapes and bruises, only to get rid of his cell without being able to even call you first. It would’ve set you in danger too if he had made that call.

And it doesn’t matter now, not when he’s finally here. König doesn’t even grill you with questions, he just looks down at you with all the love in the world. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, a warm thumb brushes over your cheek as if to sweep away an imagined tear, and t’s obvious that he’s happy to be home – happy to be with you. From that loving look in his eyes, you could bet a million bucks that you’re his home, not this house or the objects inside it.

You cling to him as he strokes your hair, your neck and your back, gently and with care, like you’re his most prized possession. When you tell him you were afraid that something had happened to him, he takes a deep breath and releases it with a shaky exhale.

You know that it breaks his heart to know that there’s someone in this world who cares about if he lives or dies. That’s why you sometimes hold back your confessions of love and dedication; because you know it’s almost painful for him to hear them. König wants to smother you with love, but every time you return the gift, he looks like he’s about to crumble to dust.

He starts to rock you gently while whispering sweet little things in your ear. He tells you how he almost forgot to clean his gun because he was in such a hurry to get back to you. He tells you how he looked at your picture first thing in the morning and last thing at night before laying himself to sleep.

He also tells you about this little kitten that befriended him in the ruins because he gave the poor creature food and water, and how one night, it was finally brave enough to sleep inside his helmet. After that, it stuck to his side like he was the creature's new mom. He had to take special care that it didn't get hurt when he was getting some heat.

"It reminded me of you," he says softly.

"How so…?"

"It was tiny and cute and demanded a lot of attention."

You shove him lightly, even poke him in the chest. König just laughs, grabs your hand, and gives it a kiss.

You know why that cat chose him out of all the soldiers – it’s because he knows how to take care of poor little things. You tell it to him, and his eyes light up with joy.

"You don’t have to sleep in my helmet, little one. You have a special place right here," he says, squeezing you against his heart.