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prythianpages · 10 months ago

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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.”

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.”

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.

“The tracking…I knew of it.”

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady��s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.”

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate.

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #abba x acotar

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tojisun · 1 year ago

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the first time that biker!simon suggested that he drives you around on his bike, you were terrified to the point of declining his offer.

“i can’t,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater, your lips downturned in genuine disappointment. “‘m sorry.”

you couldn’t meet his eyes, nervous that perhaps you’ve made him upset, but simon just took your hands on his – your small palms fitting snuggly against his gloved ones – and squeezed gently.

“you don’t have to apologize for anything, sweetheart,” simon replied, pulling you close until you were forced to tilt your head up to finally meet his gaze. you rove your eyes over his features, taking in the dimple of his cheeks as he gave you a smile, all boyish and breathtaking.

“don’t worry about it, yeah?” he asked before wrapping you in an embrace after seeing your hesitant nod.

he’s right, you know that. you shouldn’t have worried about it at all, but simon had always loved his bike. had always loved the thrill of the ride; the way the wind whipped against his skin or how the sounds of the road are intensified even with his helmet. you knew it was an irreplaceable experience so of course you truly couldn’t let go of his request.

it sat there on your mind every time he picked you up in his car, his harley tucked in the garage for the day. it curled around the crevices of your heart whenever simon kissed your temple before going out for a night ride with the boys.

“take care, okay?” you would say.

“always,” he would reply, kissing you on the lips again as though sealing his promise before pulling his helmet on and hopping onto his bike. he’d kiss the edges of his gloved knuckles where your initials lay then drive off.

it sat there in the pit of your stomach until one friday afternoon, you tugged onto his sleeve and whispered, “can i hitch a ride?”

the smile on simon’s lips was blinding and you couldn’t help the swoop of giddiness that filled you up when he snatched you from you stood, lifting you up before twirling you around the room.

“you sure you want this?” he asks now, blinking down at you as you fiddle with the zippers of your leather jacket. you look at simon, watching as he twirls your helmet in his hands, and even through his balaclava you can see how his face is pinched in doubt.

(you still can’t believe how simon had stowed away your very own helmet, murmuring how he got it as a valentines gift but decided to hide it when he saw just how hesitant you were when he made the offer.

“i was scared that if you saw i got you y’r own helmet, you would’ve felt pressured to agree to ride with me,” simon whispered, rubbing a thumb at the visor before shooting you a small smile. “stop pouting, love. i know you well, after all.”)

“never surer,” you say with a giggle before showing yourself off to him.

simon hums appreciatively, beautiful eyes narrowing in muted desire. “should see you in leather more, sweet girl. look how beautiful you are.”

you playfully swat at his arm in your embarrassment before standing still when simon lifts the helmet in his hands with a quiet beckoning. you let him fit it on you, your hair gathered in one of his hands and the other gently sliding the helmet on your head. all throughout, you watch the way his eyes crinkle in delight, his touch so reverent, and it makes you choke on the intensity of your love for this beautiful man.

he taps at the top of your visor when he is done, then he is stepping away to prep himself for the ride.

“c’mere, sweetheart,” he says when he is done. “y’got nothin’ to worry about, not w’me here.”

his words burn you, filling you up with encompassing warmth that tickles your cheeks and dips into your neck. you giggle as you shake off the last of your nerves before stepping close, hovering beside his harley, waiting for his instructions.

it wasn’t long or complicated by any chance, but you can see simon’s cautiousness shining through and that eases up your own worries.

there are things for you to remember, he says, things that would ensure your safety and his. and you take him seriously, nodding when he points at his bike and tells you where to prop your feet up, where to sit, where to hold. then, he holds your hands and says that you call all the shots; that if you want to stop, to squeeze his shoulder three times and he’s pulling over.

“this is all about you havin’ fun so don’t push y’rself, alright baby?” simon murmurs, ending his tirade.

then, he takes you for that promised ride.

you two planned to go to the park, just somewhere that’s far enough from your place but still within the expansive stretch of the city road’s smooth asphalt. he asked if you would’ve preferred the beach, but that was a two hour ride and you truly couldn’t handle anything that long. when you told him so, he laughed and kissed the top of your head and said, “then i’ve got the perfect place for you.”

the purr of the machine between your legs is unusual, if not a little bit weird. your grip on simon’s waist must be painful but you don’t have it in you to loosen up, especially not when the speed kicks up to match the traffic. you bite down a squeal when he makes a turn towards the highway, your stomach flipping when you physically feel the bike leaning to your side, almost like it’d fall anytime soon.

of course it doesn’t because simon’s a damn good driver but the adrenaline is coursing through you in waves, surprisingly dousing the fires of your anxiety and replacing it instead with a pooling elation because this feels so fucking good.

you don’t even realize that your hands have loosened their hold onto simon, gripping just enough not to fall. you lift your head from where it’s pressed on his back, tilting just enough to see past his bulk and to take in the dizzying colours of the trickling dawn. the wind is cool even with your jacket, and even though your helmet and visor is obscuring your nose, you take a deep inhale.

fuck. you might just get addicted to this.

the next time that simon swerves to exit the highway, you no longer bite down your squeal, letting it instead rumble from your throat and into the air. simon’s shoulders shake and you realize that he’s laughing, high from your reaction. you couldn’t help it but giggles flutter from your lips, full of the thrill of this experience.

the park comes to view soon and you pout, wanting to keep the drive going. but simon pulls over, parks, and only when the engine stops do you feel the numbness spreading through your legs.

“you doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” simon asks, remaining seated, unable to stand with you still holding onto him.

“mhmm!” you reply. “i can’t stand up though.”

he barks out a laugh. “oh yeah. that might take a while.” he reaches behind him to rub at the sides of your thighs, massaging whatever he can reach.

you hum, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “s’fine. ‘m not rushing.” you nuzzle your helmet on his back, falling into silence as you feel yourself unravel from the short experience. you breathe in deeply, the air fogging your visor, and say, “i loved that, si. thank you so much.”

simon’s hold on your thighs gain strength, squeezing gently. “of course, sweetheart.” you hear the happiness in his voice, breathless from his own rush of dopamine. “thank you for trusting me.”

“always, baby,” you reply, squeezing him again, muffling your giggles when you heard his surprised wheeze at the action. “i’ll always trust you.”

(ext.01) (ext.03) // mlist!

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #suns #WHAT HAPPENED? I LITERALLY WAS JUST TRYING TO WRITE A SHORT DRABBLE AGAIN #MY HAND SLIPPED

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mydearzero · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?

I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!

now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡

Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.

Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.7K words

"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle.

"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face.

"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact.

"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply.

"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off.

Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home.

You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home.

"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.

You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed.

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together.

"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver."

You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer?

Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset.

You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing.

You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him.

The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length.

Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips.

You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap.

His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out.

You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on.

You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move.

You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own.

"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy.

"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile.

"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch.

Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close.

He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat.

He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation.

"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened.

"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over.

"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch.

"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length.

You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure.

His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself."

Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation.

You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it.

You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't.

"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch.

You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation.

"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly.

"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged.

You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced.

You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue.

You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably.

You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often.

"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet.

His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch.

The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears.

You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest.

"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later.

"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails.

He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval.

"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie.

"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place.

You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass.

You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

Spencer shook his head aggressively.

"Words, baby."

"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that.

"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day.

You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock.

You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes.

"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks.

"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face.

"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock.

"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over.

"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is.

He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours.

"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic.

You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes.

"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again.

You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you.

A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good.

"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins.

You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."

Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release.

You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could."

His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release.

His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me."

You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you.

"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips.

"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.

Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own.

"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time.

"Fuck, Spencer!"

"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face.

You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi."

Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself."

"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest.

"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him.

Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face.

"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."

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multi-fandoms-posts · 2 months ago

Text

The Heat of the Moment

X Men Masterlist

Paddy x reader SMUT

Y/N sits with Paddy in an old country house, hidden deep in the woods. It’s autumn; the leaves are orange and red, and the wind lashes against the windows. The movie they’re watching plays softly in the background while the two of them sit on the sofa. The television flickers, but they pay it little attention.

Paddy sits close beside her, his arm casually draped over her shoulders. The atmosphere in the room is tense, almost palpable, but Y/N feels comfortable in his presence. She knows that Paddy can be rough, that he sometimes struggles to control himself. But she loves him, and he loves her, and that’s all that matters.

“Why do you always do this?” she suddenly asks, looking directly into his eyes. Paddy gives a crooked grin.

“What do you mean?” His voice is deep, almost a growl, as he pulls her closer to him.

“You’re... so rough. You know I’d do anything for you. But sometimes...” She breaks off, unsure if she should voice her thoughts.

“Sometimes what?” His eyes flash, and his hand slowly glides down her arm. He grips her tightly, almost painfully, but Y/N doesn’t flinch. She has grown accustomed to this part of him.

“Nothing.” Y/N shakes her head. She knows that Paddy loves her in his own way. He just shows it differently, more intensely. Sometimes too intensely.

Paddy grins, his lips near her ear. “You like it when I’m like this. Admit it.”

Y/N doesn’t respond, but her heart races. She knows he’s right. She loves his passion, even when it hurts. It’s like a game between them—one they both know all too well.

Suddenly, Paddy turns her face to him and presses his lips against hers. The kiss is demanding, rough. He holds her head firmly, his fingers digging into her hair. Without warning, he bites into her neck, hard enough that she lets out a sharp gasp. The pain mingles with a strange pleasure.

“Paddy!” she gasps, but she doesn’t push him away. She feels him grasping her skin with his teeth, the blood rushing in her ears. When he finally pulls back, he leaves a deep red hickey that slowly begins to turn blue.

“Do you like that?” he asks with a dark smile.

Y/N looks at him, her eyes filled with heat and desire. She doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she grips his hair tightly, pulls his head back, and exposes his neck. Without hesitation, she bites down harder than he had on her.

Paddy growls low in his throat, surprised by her reaction, but he allows it. Y/N feels his body tremble under her touch. She holds him firmly, feeling his pulse under her tongue as she sinks her teeth into his skin. His growl grows louder, mingling with a deep moan that fills him completely.

“Damn it, Y/N...” he murmurs, his hand gripping her hip, fingers pressing deeply into her flesh. The pain and pleasure dance between them, a mixture of violence and passion.

When Y/N finally lets go, she sees the imprint of her teeth on his skin. His neck is flushed, and she knows it will look worse tomorrow. But she regrets nothing. It’s her way of showing him that she is his equal. That she understands him in her own way.

“You’re crazy,” Paddy says, his breath heavy. But in his eyes, something else glimmers—something that draws Y/N in even more.

“You started it,” she replies calmly, a faint smile on her lips.

Paddy suddenly pulls her back to him, his lips finding hers again, this time softer. For a moment, he’s not rough, not demanding, but tender. But Y/N knows that this tenderness won’t last long. That’s never been his way.

“I can’t help it,” he whispers as his fingers gently trace over her neck, right where he had bitten her before. “You drive me insane.”

“And you drive me insane,” she responds, her voice barely more than a whisper.

There are no more words. A deep understanding lies between them, one that transcends mere words. They need no explanations, no apologies. They take each other as they are—raw, passionate, and sometimes painful.

She stands up, and Paddy looks at Y/N, his eyes burning with desire. Without warning, he stands up too, grabbing her by the waist and pushing her with a quick, controlled thrust against the wall of the old country house. The wooden floorboards creak behind her, and the cool surface of the wall presses firmly against her back.

Y/N gasps softly, surprised by the sudden movement but also by the familiar feeling that rises within her. Her breath quickens as Paddy presses close to her, his body firm against hers. She feels his arousal pressing unmistakably against her thigh. The sensation sends waves of heat through her body, and her hands instinctively find his back, her fingers digging into his shirt.

“Paddy...” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and excitement. She looks into his eyes, and what she sees there makes her forget everything else around her. There’s no restraint in his gaze, only pure desire and the wild, bubbling passion that has gripped them both in this moment.

“You know you drive me crazy,” he murmurs roughly, pressing even closer to her, his face mere millimeters from hers. His breath brushes her lips, hot and demanding. “You feel that, don’t you?”

Y/N nods, unable to say anything more. Her hands glide into his neck, pulling him down to her until their lips meet again. The kiss is demanding, hungry, and they lose themselves in the heat of the moment. Paddy’s hands roam over her body, firm and possessive, as if he wants to feel every part of her, to claim every inch.

He breaks the kiss just to look at her again. His gaze travels from her eyes to her lips, then to her neck, where the dark hickey is still visible. He gently strokes his fingers over it, as if admiring his handiwork, before diving back into her, this time with more urgency.

Y/N feels his hands sliding to her waist, lifting her, pressing her against the wall more firmly, more dominantly. Her legs instinctively wrap around his hips, and the feeling of his arousal pressing against her makes her breathe deeply. Her whole body vibrates with tension and desire.

“I... feel it,” Y/N finally whispers, her lips against his ear. “Everything.”

Paddy growls softly, his grip on her hips tightening as he pulls her even closer. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice deep and rough with desire. “Because this... this belongs to us.”

His mouth finds her neck again, this time gentler yet still possessive, as he lightly sinks his teeth into her skin, just enough to draw another moan from her. Y/N feels her world spinning around him, around this raw desire that connects them both.

He presses her harder against the wall, and she can’t help but fully enjoy his closeness, his dominance, and the burning fire in his touches.

Paddy holds Y/N firmly against the wall, her legs still wrapped around his hips. His breath is ragged, his eyes dark with longing. Without a word, his hand suddenly glides down her belly, skillfully undoing the button of her jeans and pulling the zipper down with a swift, decisive motion.

Y/N gasps softly as she feels her pants slowly sliding over her hips. Paddy pulls them down with a mix of urgency and impatience until they fall to the floor, her bare skin feeling cool in the otherwise hot air around them.

He says nothing, but his movements speak volumes. His hands move to his own pants, undoing his belt and button. With a firm tug, he pulls them down, his arousal unmistakably evident.

Y/N feels her heart racing, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The anticipation and desire building within her almost drive her to madness. Her hands grasp his shoulders, her fingers digging deep into his skin, as if she knows what comes next.

Paddy lifts her gaze to meet his, his eyes locked onto hers. Without warning, without another word, he pushes into her, hard and deep. A sharp moan escapes Y/N's lips as her body surrenders to him. The sudden pressure, the raw intensity of his thrust, makes her senses explode.

“Paddy…” she moans, unable to say anything else. Her head leans against the cold wall, her body entwined with his as she tries to stay in this moment, processing the electrifying pain and pleasure.

Paddy growls softly as he presses her harder against the wall, his hands gripping her hips, holding her in place while he continues to thrust into her. Each of his thrusts is deep and hungry, as if he can’t get enough of her. His body is hot, his breath heavy, and his movements demanding.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs roughly, his mouth near her ear as he drives deeper into her. “So damn good.”

Y/N can’t respond; her thoughts have blurred into a single chaos of lust and longing. All she feels is Paddy—every movement of his, the intensity of his body, the rhythm he sets. She clings to him, her nails digging into his back as her body instinctively adapts to him.

The heat between them rises, the room seems to dissolve around them, and all that remains is the raw intensity of this moment.

Y/N clings tighter to Paddy, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs still firmly around his hips. Each thrust, each deep push from him brings her closer to the edge, and she feels the heat building in her belly, growing more intense until she can barely stand it.

“Paddy…” she gasps between deep breaths. Her voice trembles, a barely suppressed moan breaking free as she digs her fingers into his shoulders. “I... I’m almost there...”

Her words seem to trigger something within him. His hands grip her even tighter, his movements becoming harder, faster, as if he wants to push her over the edge, past the point where she can still hold on. The pressure between them mounts; each of his thrusts makes her body quiver.

“Come for me,” Paddy murmurs hoarsely, his breath hot against her ear. “Let it out.”

Y/N’s head falls against the wall behind her, and she can hardly delay the moment any longer. Her entire body vibrates with tension; the waves of her impending climax are inevitable. She feels herself losing control, and just as Paddy thrusts into her even harder and deeper, it overwhelms her.

With a sharp moan, her body arches against his, her back pressing against the wall as she instinctively bites into his neck, deep and firm, as pleasure consumes her completely. The bite is hard, almost possessive, and she feels Paddy growl beneath her, his body trembling under her grip.

That’s enough to send him over the edge as well. With a deep, hoarse groan, he comes inside her, his body tensing against hers, surrendering to the moment just as she does. His breath is ragged and heavy, his movements slowing, but the intensity in his gaze remains.

Their bodies press tighter against each other, their hearts beating in the same erratic rhythm, and the heat of the moment envelops them both until there is only them—alone, lost in the ecstasy they have created together.

Slowly, Y/N relaxes her grip on Paddy’s neck, and her lips leave a mark on his skin, right where she had bitten him. She gasps softly, her forehead resting against his as they both try to catch their breath.

“You're incredible,” Paddy finally whispers, his voice rough and filled with satisfaction as he pulls her body close to him once more.

#paddy #speak no evil paddy #speak no evil #speak no evil movie #james mcavoy x reader #james mcavoy #james mcavoy speak no evil #James mcavoy x reader smut #james mcavoy smut

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saeist · 2 years ago

Text

nagi was sleeping in class again

it's not much of a surprise that he does that. he's literally the talk of the class because he just sleeps all day. even earning the title 'the thousand year netero' just because he literally sleeps all morning

you just so happen to be desk mates with the said 'thousand year netero'

you've gotten a handful of comments from your classmates that luck was not on your side as you were nagi's designated desk mate. they even ask if you've ever seen him awake or if you've ever talked to him

the reply was always the same. it was just a simple, "yeah" because frankly, you have seen him awake and you have talked to him multiple times throughout the semester

nagi never fails to greet you good morning and offer you his bread when he walks in through your classroom door every morning. it was basically the only time he talks to you before falling asleep on his desk for the rest of the day

until recently, nagi has been talking to you way more than he usually does

and that's because you've developed a new hobby with your desk mate. you've been doodling on his exposed arm as he sleeps soundly beside you.

i mean, the opportunity was there. nagi, who was knocked out cold and you were bored out of your mind. you see his sleeve hunched up and you had a pen in hand. it was only a matter of time you started doodling your heart's content on his arm

nagi first noticed when reo pointed out that he had some scribbles on his arm and that he should go wash it off. nagi noticed your familiar handwriting and confronted you about it the next day

nagi will never forget how your cheeks turned into a bright shade of pink and mumbled apologies as you were caught in the act. nagi simply assures you it was nothing and he thought it was "pretty neat"

ever since then, it became your thing to doodle on each other's arms like it was nothing

as time went on, nagi could reference the doodles you'd doodle on his arm. that's when he noticed that you two had way more things in common.

slowly, he finds himself awake in class more often. he wanted to see you in the act as you doodle away on his arm. may it be song lyrics in bubble letters, or random characters you draw on the top of your head, nagi wanted to see you do it

one day in class, you were surprised to see him paying attention for once. usually at this time of the day, he'd be sprawled out next to you with a textbook merely covering his face so he wouldn't be caught sleeping.

nagi feels your curious gaze and shrugs. he then extends his arm and pushes his sleeve up to his forearm. he motions you to start doodling on his exposed skin.

you don't know why but you feel yourself blush. maybe because this was your first interaction that didn't involve nagi sleeping next to you as you doodle.

you felt shy in front of nagi for the first time. you were a bit skeptical to even start to draw on his skin.

"just pretend i'm sleeping" nagi says, now opening his palm, giving you even more space to draw on.

the bell rings, indicating that classes were over. your classmates all stand up and start packing their things to go home after the long day but nagi was still seated, watching you with his eyes, waiting for you to mark him for the day

in the end, you just doodled your name in kanji

you ended up leaving before nagi. nagi sits there in his seat with a small smile on his face, staring at your name you just doodled on his wrist.

the next day rolls in and you find nagi awake in class. wind blows through your class windows and nagi's paper flies away. he goes to pick it up and you can see his sleeve moved up a bit

there you see, your name still written on his wrist

#ads writing for nagi?? thats a first #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #nagi imagines #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro imagines #nagi seishiro x reader #WE'RE EXPANDING THE ROSTER YALL LETS ALL WELCOME NAGI TO MY MASTERLIST

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tastesousweet · 3 months ago

Text

⭒ the other woman

christopher sturniolo x poc!reader

summary: an angsty story of regret and selfishness told through different moments in time

warnings: alternate universe (takes place in the early 2000s bcs i’m obsessed), angst, implied sex, cigarettes, cheating (with, not on y/n)

a/n: hiiii srry for ghosting u guys again :/ i finally have motivation to write again!!! send in blurb or one shot ideas pls. unfortunately im putting tgwtt on hold for right now bc i feel writing that series takes so much out of me and i end up not enjoying anything i write. i hope u understand & im sorry to those who enjoy it! anyways i hope this is well received since it’s a bit different than my other works — lowkey tuned into my inner sally rooney bc her angst HITS . luv u baiiii

★ march 2004

there’s a vile and shameful look to you that you’re not so sure you’ve hidden well enough.

your stomach feels overweight and heavy with an extreme amount of pain bubbling and stabbing your insides whenever they decide to pop.

you clutch at the edge of the bathroom sink, staring at your figure and aching eyes (you added some dark eyeliner into your routine hoping to distract from your disdainful mood but you’re starting to think you may have drawn more attention with the dramatic look).

you suck your stained bottom lip into your mouth out of comfort or maybe a need for something to hold as you move to dig for the pack of slightly crumpled cigarettes in your small, wine-red purse.

the door handle begins to rattle unnervingly just as you spark the slim stick to life.

you comically still yourself in your exact position (bent over odd and cupping your hand around the cig as if there was any sudden wind to blow out your flame in your friend's classy bathroom).

"y/n? you in here?!"

your eyes widen first, before they eventually roll. you wave your hands around to cut through the plumes of clogged smoke in the quaint room.

“y/n!”

“someone’s in here!” you reply, taking another puff of smoke and adjusting your hair a bit in the mirror.

“you gonna open up for me?”

“ummm,” you sputter through the cigarette held in your mouth as you adjust your strapless dress with both hands in the mirror.

“y/n.”

you let out a soft groan and quickly smash the cigarette a few times against the french vanilla ceramic sink bowl, throwing what's left of it in the trash. you practically shove yourself against the tiny wall space to the side of the door as you inch it open enough for the two of you to gain a full view of each other.

you smile, “chris.”

★ december 2003

they say the holidays are worst when spent alone.

and despite having three siblings and parents who’d want nothing more than to spend their christmas eve with their son, chris has always preferred to spend the holidays with a beautiful girl — in hopes that she’d gift him the intoxicating feeling of her thighs tightly trapping his face by the end of the night.

so it’s shocking that he’s at your door step, dressed in a suave, ribbed white long sleeve, dark blue jeans, and somehow caught without one of his usual hats slouched on top of his head of fawn hair.

and it’s real fucking odd that you answer the door wearing a dress that fits you extremely well, paired with a cardigan to keep some modesty.

it’s so very weird given that chris has his girlfriend of over a year texting him another apology for abandoning their plans together to visit her family in wisconsin as you both share an intimate hug on your porch.

you try not to think it’s so unnatural for you and chris to go out for dinner, despite the fact that everyone in your small town knows he has a girlfriend who’s notably quite the opposite of you.

thank goodness chris keeps some casualty — leaving you to open your own door when climbing into his beloved truck.

★ february 2004

“okay, um, this is something you can eat and there’s, like, a million types- you like granny smith!”

“oo, apples!”

chris nods excitedly and flips to the next card, “it’s my favorite meal of the day.”

“breakfast!”

“yes, you’re perfect. alright this is casper the friendly-”

“ghost!”

“amazing! ‘kay, i’m always complaining that mine isn’t stiff enough.”

“your dick?” josh jokes.

“fuck off, josh! i’m more than capable…” chris laughs.

“gross! chris?!”

“what?! don’t make it a biggie. now hurry ‘n gimme that answer baby, please?”

“well i’m guessing it’s your mattress?!”

“you have 7 seconds!” nick says while intensely staring at the tiny hourglass.

chris gives an encouraging hand motion for her to continue on that path.

“ummm… your bed?!”

“yes! that’s what i’m talking about!” chris shoots up from his position, on the ground in front of the coffee table, and immediately picks liv up from the couch in celebration.

the group let out plenty of laughs and giggles at the fear in her eyes as she’s lifted up and down excitedly.

cassie yells out, “aw yay mom and dad!” when chris sets her down and kisses her lips.

you try to control your face. your eyes flicker over and see them smiling with their faces so close together. and it drives you a little mad that whatever chris whispered to make her burst into laughter can’t be heard from your spot across the couch, especially not when there are so many conversations going on at once.

it’s just a game. you have no right to be jealous. it’s fucking taboo.

you clear your throat and uncross your legs as you begin to leave from the leather couch, “matt and josh, you can go before me- i’m just gonna grab some water.”

★ march 2004

“smoking cigs again?” chris asks as he steps into the bathroom.

“no,” you lie, resting your hip against the edge of the counter.

he knows you’re lying but doesn’t bother to pressure the truth out of you, he’s not your father. or your boyfriend at that.

“are you doing okay?” he pauses and waits for you to acknowledge him.

you don’t.

he clears his throat, “you look beautiful in this,” he tugs your dress down showing off the cleavage you’d just got done hiding.

“‘m all good,” you answer his initial question while exaggerating a smile.

chris mindlessly nods his head and somehow gets even closer to you, to the point where you have to tilt your head just the slightest bit to make eye contact.

“can i kiss you?” he asks with a genuine glimmer of generosity in his eyes and tone; as if he wanted you to want it more than he wants it himself.

you’re silent. he holds your neck gently and raises his other hand to drag your large bottom lip downward, cooing a tease, “hmmm..?”

you whine a little to yourself — this can’t happen again.

“yes?” chris mocks a little, giving a squeeze to your neck, “say it.”

your eyes droop and suddenly the ache of pain and guilt melts down to a slush of excitement and warmth both inside and evidently outside, if the stickiness of your lace underwear says anything. you nod your head.

chris is so obsessed with your mouth, his thumb doesn't move from your bottom lip as you peek your tongue out to wet it, "yes, please." your words echo off of his lips that now practically hover yours.

even though you've used your manners you manage to deliver it as a command. and it doesn't help that you paired the sentence with your hands running up the hot skin underneath his dark shirt. his mouth hangs slightly ajar as his head nods softly once more and his eyes flicker over your pretty face.

you wait for his response before your eyes lock onto his and you pout, "i thought you wanted to kiss me, chris?"

★ december 2003

“that’s hot,” chris mumbles as he kicks his legs over eachother and stretches out on the longest part of your L - shaped, funky-green couch.

“what is?” you ask as you return to the living room, popcorn cradled in an oversized bowl against your waist.

“pamala anderson,” chris jokingly moans out, biting his bottom lip and covering his lower half with one of your fuzzy throw pillows.

“gross, you perv!” you throw a handful of popcorn at his face — that’s stretched into an adorable smile — and take a seat next to him.

“baywatch reruns are all that nbc play anymore,” you squint with a sigh, taking a swig of the cool bottle of beer chris requested before handing it to him.

“they lost the best thing to ever happen to ‘em, i’d milk that shit too.” he then takes a sip, smirking when a desperate pamala anderson begins to run in slow motion on your fuzzy box television.

“what would liv think of you drooling over some baywatch tits?”

“what would liv think of me replacing her with you for my christmas eve dinner?”

you can’t help but think that ‘replacing’ is possibly the meanest word he could have used.

he smiles and gives a soft laugh when your face doesn’t respond, “joking- don’t spaz on me now…” he rolls his eyes from you back to the screen in front of you.

you swallow and adjust your legs to sit underneath you, trying to get comfortable while remaining in your small red dress.

★ march 2004

“never again,” you remind chris and yourself as you step into your once discarded underwear.

chris nods his head a few times, replying when he finally catches his breath, “right.”

“okay,” you slip your dress back on and chris redresses himself away from you.

chris slowly comes up behind you, kissing your shoulder once and hugging you gently. you want to cry — because in any other circumstance you’d embrace this feeling. but you can’t help but feel dirty.

he whispers with his head buried in the side of your crowded neck, “you know your my best friend, right? i love you.”

and you can’t help the shivers and sobs that decide to escape from your sad, used body.

“shhhh,” he apologizes, “i’m sorry.”

★ december 2003

chris imagined having sex with you plenty of times before — figuring most guys have thought of it with all of their girl friends, at least his friends made it seem true.

though his imagination could never ever live up to your whines and the way your body effortlessly takes him as you bounce yourself on top of him.

you both knew this was a bad idea, it was bad before you ended up back at your place after dinner. chris is an admittedly horny drunk and you’re no better so sharing a few beers while sitting so close to each other was bound to backfire.

only in the morning would some ounce of guilt and regret wash over him, when he’d listen to the cheerful voicemail his unknowing girlfriend left him while he was busy with his fingers in your mouth.

★ november 2004

chris hasn’t spoken to you since you came clean to liv about your disloyalty, six months ago.

he yelled and cried at your doorstep. he told you that you ruined his entire life, that he never wants to see you again.

you convince yourself you never want to see him again, but you tend to miss him in the loneliest times. when you’re sat awake in your dark bedroom.

you still miss his voice and his face.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #angst #sturniolos #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut

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yangfleurs · 2 years ago

Text

stray kids: they call you clingy (pt.2)

hyung line

pt.1

chan

"hyung, what the hell?” changbin bursted through the studio door, earning a groan from chan.

“why would you send y/n to the studio when you know we have a deadline by the end of the week, changbin? I’m not a little kid that needs to be coddled, and I definitely do not have the time for anymore interruptions.” chan grumbled, not once looking away from the computer screen in front of him.

“hyung, you can’t keep working like this, you know it’s not doing you any good,” he scolded. “and whatever you said to y/n, you better apologize soon. I’ve never seen her look so distraught.” he sighed.

chan sighed too, feeling guilty for sending you away so abruptly.

“and I know you aren’t great at keeping track of time, but do you really think it was a good idea to send y/n to walk home after sundown and without their jacket at that?” changbin said, pointing to your long-forgotten jacket sitting on the studio couch.

the guilt chan felt was immediately replaced by a deep sense of panic as he thought about you walking home in the dark of the night completely exposed to the elements and without him there to keep you safe. he scrambled out of his seat for the first time all day, grabbing your jacket and the food you made.

“you don’t even have to ask. me and jisung will wrap up whatever you’ve got, just trust us.” changbin smiled, moving out of the frame of the door so chan could leave. he thanked him quickly before rushing out, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far away from the building just yet.

the cold air that greeted him as he ran out immediately made his heart sink. he hurried towards the direction of your apartment, calling you as he ran. his worry only grew as his calls all immediately went to voicemail. it had grown completely dark around him and you were nowhere to be found. the panic made him sick to his stomach, but he kept looking around frantically for you. he called your name loudly, earning a few strange looks from the people he passed but he could care less; his only concern right now was you.

♡♡♡

the reason chan couldn’t find you right now was because you didn’t head home. you knew he would come to his senses in no time---he was always the sensitive type, picking up on his mistakes quickly and apologizing equally as fast. but you needed to be alone to process your feelings, so instead of going where you knew he’d go first, you walked yourself to the place you’d planned on going with him---the han river park. you sighed, walking into a convenience store and grabbing yourself a hot drink. you paid for it quickly before sitting down at a bench, trying to brave the cold wind biting at your face. it was a lot better a little while ago, when you wanted to come here and walk with chan. but those plans were far gone.

“what’s a pretty girl like yourself doing here so late?” a voice asked you. you looked up and were met with an older man, he looked unkempt, patchy stubble covering his face as he swung around a brown-toned beer bottle. you gulped, not knowing how to reply.

“I’m fucking talking to you, answer me!” he spat angrily, going to grab your wrist. you yelped moving away from the man, terrified and still unsure of what to do. he was taller than you and could easily overtake you if you tried to run. you shook as he kept screaming at you; whatever he had in strength, he lacked in motor functions, making it incredibly easy for you to dodge him as he chased after you in the little space around the bench.

“y/n! oh thank god, I was so worried!” chan yelled as you ran over to him.

“help.” you whispered as you both noticed the drunk man plod over to where you were. chan wrapped your jacket around your shoulders and hugged you reassuringly before pushing you behind him.

“and who’s this? I just asked why you were alone so late, baby, you didn’t need to involved your friend here.” he slurred, trying to dodge chan to talk to you.

“boyfriend. she was waiting for me so do us all a favor and leave us the hell alone before I have to call the police.” he said, clearly trying to keep his rage at bay. the man muttered a few cusses under his breath before relenting, making both you and chan take a breath of relief.

“let’s go home,” he turned to face you. “we have a lot to talk about.” he said with an apologetic smile on his face. you only nodded as you began to walk beside him.

you walked in silence for a while, waiting for chan to inevitably burst in profuse apologies at any given moment.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t mean anything I said. you’re not clingy and there’s nothing in the world I appreciate more than the attention you pay in making sure I take care of myself,” he stopped walking to look you in the eyes. “and I couldn’t be more lucky to have someone like you who’s always looking out for me and worrying about my well-being. there’s no excuse for the way I reacted today but I hope you know that I regret it so much and I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” he finished talking, every single word he said dripping with sincerity.

“thank you. I get that you’re busy, but we should both working on seeing things from the other’s perspectives going forward, okay?” you said, earning a nod from chan.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked meekly. you nod enthusiastically. “I love you.” he grinned.

“I love you, too.” you replied with a chuckle.

“can we hold hands now?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. you reached out your hand for his, letting him intertwine his finger with yours. he pulled your connected hands towards him, forcing you closer to him as you walked home, safe and content in each other’s presence. he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m gonna inhale all of the pumpkin porridge when we get home.” he whispered as he pulled away, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

lino

"I’m going to give it to you straight; the cut in your hand is quite deep and you’ll need stitches,” the doctor told you as she put pressure on your wound to maintain the bleeding. “you’re absolutely sure you don’t want your guardian here? not to alarm you, but it’ll be hard to do anything, especially because you said this is your dominant hand.” she asked, clearly concerned for you.

“I’m sure, doctor.” you said with a nod.

“I understand. I will proceed since you’re losing a lot of blood and I want this situation under control as soon as possible, but I believe it’s in your best interest to call someone, even if it’s not your guardian, to handle the paperwork since you won’t be able to write.” she said firmly. you nodded, giving her the okay to stitch the cut in your hand. the doctor finished stitching in no time and dressed your wound as well, giving you careful instructions so you would be able to do it yourself at home. she left soon after, reminding you about the paperwork you need to have completed. you called chan, knowing it was his day off and he’d pick up.

“hey y/n, wasn’t expecting a call from you, what’s up?” he asked immediately.

“I know it’s your day off and I feel so terrible for asking, but could you come to the hospital? It’s nothing crazy but I need someone to fill out some paperwork for me.” you informed him, trying to sound nonchalant so as to not stress him out.

“hospital? what’s wrong? are you sick or hurt?” he bombarded you with questions. “and why are you calling me and not minho? did you guys fight?” he finally asked suspiciously.

“it’s a long story and I’m so tired, chris. can you please come? or send someone else if you’re busy,” you pause before adding, “but not minho. we’re not in a good place right now.” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“okay, I’ll be there in fifteen. but you have to tell me everything when I get there, okay?” he relented, making you agree before hanging up.

chan showed up soon after, finding you quickly in the emergency room with all of your paperwork in his hands.

“so you hurt yourself.” he said to himself, getting closer to you to inspect the damage.

“yeah.” you whispered, gently tugging your hand away from him, embarrassed.

“okay spill before I start jumping to conclusions. the last thing I want to do is assume anything about either one of you.” he said with heavy concern in his tone.

you recapped the whole night to him, everything from lino pushing you off of him to him treating you like a clingy, helpless child to how the cut happened in the first place. chan listened diligently, offering hums of understanding as he filled out your paperwork.

“I can talk to him for you if you want, y/n. this is a tough situation for both of you, I could knock some sense in to him.” he suggested softly.

“thanks for the offer, but I’m not reaching out first through you. he fucked up, he needs to figure that out on his own terms.” you paused, letting out a deep breath. “and I’m kind of embarrassed by all of this and I don’t need him rubbing it in my face, especially after everything from tonight. promise me you won’t tell him?”

“y/n---”

“chris, please. just this once. if you tell him, he’ll rush over and I already feel so stupid because of what happened earlier. I don’t want to face him right now.” you pleaded with him.

he was quiet for a while as he filled out the last section of the paper work. he released a deep breath he had unknowingly been holding in before finally agreeing. “I’ll stay out of it because you want me to, y/n. but the offer stands in case you change your time at any point. I care about both of you,” he patted your back reassuringly. “now, let’s get you home.” he said, getting up.

he drove you home in silence, insisting he should drive since your hand’s hurt. you fought sleep the entire way back; it was already 2 a.m. and you were beyond exhausted.

“hey, we’re here.” you heard chan say as he shook your arm. you shot up out of your sleepiness, heading towards your home with chan following.

“I’m gonna help you change the bandages and then leave, okay?” he told you as you unlocked your apartment door. you nodded, yawning. you felt a touch of disappointment as you walked in, seeing the still-shattered vase on the ground as well as a little, dried up pool of your blood, meaning lino really hadn’t come home.

chan didn’t let you think about it for too long though, as he cleaned and dressed your wound quickly before letting you off to wash up and go to sleep.

“I’m gonna clean up the rest of the vase and then head home. but call me if you need anything, y/n. I don’t sleep till late into the night and you only live 5 minutes away so don’t feel bad.” he reassured you. “now go to sleep, I’ll see you later.” he shooed you away. you didn’t fight him, too exhausted to say much more than a “thank you.”

♡♡♡

the next morning, you felt terrible; this time, not just emotionally, but physically as well. the numbing cream from the stitches had worn off entirely, making your entire hand pulse in pain. you rummaged through your medicine cabinet looking for ibuprofen. you groaned in frustration trying to open the little twist cap of the bottle with your one hand with no success. you gave up after a few tries, sitting down on your kitchen floor and letting out a small scream you’d held in for too long. you were hurting on so many different levels and you began to truly feel like you were just a needy, clingy child. you couldn’t even open a fucking pill bottle or change your own bandages by yourself, so what the hell does that make you other than pathetic?

you started crying. what else could you do? you felt so incapable of even the most basic tasks and despite chan’s kind offer to help you being there, you felt too awful to ask him for more help. so you would just have to endure your pain. you stayed like that for another half an hour, taking deep breaths to distract yourself from it.

“y/n? where are you? baby?” you heard lino calling for you as he quickly searched your small apartment.

you wiped your tears quickly, scrambling up and hiding your hand behind your back. you heard his steps growing closer and in no time, he was standing in front of you. you kept your gaze down, still upset and embarrassed.

“good morning, he said, wrapping his arms around you before you got a chance to protest. his arm put pressure on your wound, making you hiss in pain loudly. you pushed him off, tears glazing your eyes as a reflex.

“what--what’s the matter? is this about last night? I know we still have to talk about it but I just missed---” his words trailed off as he finally noticed you holding your hand behind you. “y/n, what’s wrong? did something happen to your hand?” he asked, his voice dripping with concern. he walked closer to you, making you immediately stumble backwards, trying to get away from his touch. the hurt in his eyes was palpable, making your heart hurt too.

“I’m okay.” you mumbled quietly, still not looking up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” he said back. “at least look at me, baby, hm?” he gently coaxed you.

you took a deep breath, before looking into his eyes. he looked exhausted, obvious pain relief patches on the back of his neck and peeking out from under his shirt and dark circles around his eyes. and the way he frowned when you made eye contact told you you didn’t look much better. you relaxed inadvertently under his soft gaze; but you relaxed a little too much, revealing part of your bandaged hand to him.

"show me your hand?” he asked. he was well-aware of the atmosphere he’d created last night and so he didn’t push like he normally would’ve. the last thing he wanted to do was add insult to injury now.

“I’m really fine. could you just open the pain meds for me?” you asked, wincing in pain every time your hand moved. he did as you asked without hesitation, pouring you a cup of water and opening the bottle of pills. you took the meds wordlessly, finally thanking him before walking out of the kitchen. he followed you out like a lost puppy, finally catching a glimpse of your entire hand.

“you have to change the bandages, don’t you? let me do it.” he quickly said when he noticed you unwrapping the ones from last night. you wanted to protest, but you knew it would be less painless if someone else did it for you. you let him do it without putting up a fight.

“this will sting, squeeze my arm if it’s too much,” he said, kneeling on the ground as you sat on the couch. he wiped the wound effectively and as quickly as possible, wincing when you whimpered as if he was the one in pain. “good, you did good, baby.” he smiled gently. he put on some ointment and wrapped your hand up in new bandages.

“now let’s talk. what happened?” he questioned.

“I think we need to talk about what happened before first,” you muttered. “you really hurt me, you know?” your voice wavered as you held back tears. despite everything that’s happened in the short time, the wounds on your heart were still fresh, just as fresh as the one in your palm.

“I was just so tired and the guys kept messing up and they weren’t taking practice seriously,” he sighed. “ but I know it’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sorry.” he played with his fingers, keeping his head down and not looking at you.

“I know you are, but,” you gulped. “I can’t help but feel like you meant it all. am I really too clingy? do I act desperate for your attention? do you take care of me because you want to or because you feel like you have to?” you looked away, not wanting to show lino there were tears spilling down your face. neither one of you said anything for a few minutes. the silence started chipping away at your heart, confirming your concerns.

that was until you heard sniffles coming from next to you. you turned to look at him and sure enough, he was looking down with little tear drop marks littering the fabric of his pants. “I can’t believe I made you feel like that,” his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t deserve you at all.” he choked back a sob, now turning his face the other way so you couldn’t see him cry.

“don’t say that,” you cried. “you hurt me, that doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

“I love you, too.” he sniffled, closing the space between you and kissing you messily. you both giggled into the kiss, laughing at the absurdity of it all. you pulled away after a while but stayed stuck to each other’s sides, him carefully adjusting so you could put your hand down on his leg comfortably. after a moment, you spoke.

“did chan send you?” you mumbled against his chest.

“said I’d lose the love of my life if I don’t get my shit together,” he chuckled. “he has such a way with words.” you both laughed, snuggling closer.

changbin

you were freezing as you walked into your apartment. it hadn’t been this quiet in years; without changbin’s naturally loud voice ringing throughout your home, it was almost uncomfortably silent. you stripped out of your soaking wet clothes right there in your living room, not wanting to trail water around. you were exhausted suddenly, the emotional exhaustion had quickly manifested into physical exhaustion and you sighed deeply. you didn’t even bother to shower, just wiping yourself down and drying your hair before falling into your bed. despite being under the duvet, you shivered the entire night. you chalked it up to not being used to sleeping without changbin next to you.

something you’d have to get used to now that he didn’t want you anymore.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry; you’d spent the entire walk back home sobbing your heart out and now you had no more tears in you. you just sighed, tossing and turning before sleep finally overtook you.

you woke up the next morning still shivering. you had taken the day off because you thought your date with changbin would run really late but here you were, spending a day off mourning your relationship. you felt terrible, your head pounding and your throat hoarse. you knew you should probably check your temperature, but since you were always the one getting sick, only changbin really knew where it was because he would constantly misplace it.

you ignored how sick you felt and got to work. the quicker you got rid of changbin’s things, the less time you’d have to spend lingering in the hurt. and so you packed up years of what you thought would be a forever relationship into a bin and a suitcase. your apartment felt hollow now, like it was missing changbin just as much as you were. no more healthy meals prepackaged in the fridge, no more cute sticky notes filled with “I loves yous” stuck on the fridge, no more anniversary polaroids or vulnerable letters or musky cologne on black t-shirts or souvenirs from different tour stops; you packed them all up and put them into your trunk with a handwritten note tucked into the lid.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t cry a little bit; just when you thought you had cried it all out, another set of fresh tears arose. a part of you wished he’d called and apologized right after, told you it was a misunderstanding and that he didn’t mean any of it. but it had been an entire night and morning with no call or text; you had no choice but to accept that the love of your life simply couldn’t handle you anymore.

you coughed violently as you felt a cold shiver run through your body. you didn’t have time to be sick right now; wasn’t it enough that you were an emotional wreck? you ignored it once more before driving off to the dorms. you arrived quickly and knocked on the door, praying you wouldn’t have to face changbin in your condition.

“y/n! it’s good to see you after so long, we’ve missed you,” you were greeted warmly by hyunjin. “are you coming in? changbin hyung’s not home but he should be home pretty soon.” he smiled.

you took a deep breath and mustered up a smile. “I’ve missed you guys, too” you sniffled and coughed a little. “but I’m not feeling too great right now. I’m just dropping off changbin’s stuff for him.”

hyunjin looked at you with concerned eyes. “why are you dropping off all of his things, y/n? did something happen between you two?”

“you should hear it from him. I’ll see you around, hyunjin.” you smiled at him again, turning around and leaving before he got a chance to protest.

♡♡♡

when changbin got back to the dorms, he was first met with a very snarky hyunjin. and then he was met with boxes and a suitcase on the living room floor.

“going somewhere?” he asked hyunjin with genuine interest.

hyunjin rolled his eyes as soon as he asked. “y/n came over.”

“did she pester you? she’s been needing a lot of attention lately, it’s getting to be a lot.” he sighed.

“hyung, I don’t know what you told y/n but she came over sick as hell and said she was dropping off your stuff.”

“w-what?”

hyunjin just shrugged. “I’ll give you some privacy, you should probably look through the stuff, see what’s up.”

changbin carried the boxes into his room, wasting no time to go through them. it didn’t take long for him to realize it was virtually every shred of your relationship stuffed together. when he said everything he said, it was purely out of frustration; he knew he was being selfish by prioritizing his time with the boys over spending time with you. he felt his heart break at you taking his words of annoyance at face value and it just about completely shattered once he found your note.

to my love,

even if this is how it really ends, I’m grateful for what we had. even if I had known that it would end like this, I would do it all over again with you in a heartbeat. I’m sorry for all of my shortcomings getting in the way. I hope you find love and happiness with someone who loves you the way you want them to.

yours always,

y/n

it was a short note, but it hurt changbin like someone had started taking blind punches to his heart. he sat in front of the boxes, stunned. he wiped his face, suddenly becoming aware of the tears covering his cheeks. after spending another while like that taking in the reality of it all, he scurried up from his seat on the ground, looking frantically for his phone to call you. every single one of his calls went straight to voicemail, his texts left on delivered like he’d done to you just the night prior. he’s reminded of hyunjin’s mention that you were sick, which only made him feel worse. he got up and ran out of the door, not even bothering to throw on a jacket or let hyunjin know he was headed out. he had to apologize to you before it was too late.

♡♡♡

the shivering had only gotten worse since you’d gotten home. your temperature had risen significantly and you couldn’t even muster up the energy to get up and make something to eat, not that you had much of an appetite, anyway. being soaked to the bone the night before had really done a number on you and being this sick only made you miss changbin more. he was always so good about taking care of you when you weren’t feeling well, constantly checking your temperature and wiping your forehead with a damp towel to lower it. he was always diligent about making sure you ate properly and took your medicine on time so your body could recover faster, too. and he knew you loved being held when you were under the weather so he would cuddle you despite your protests and the risk of him getting sick himself. your heart ached as you thought of how the affection from him you cherished so much was the very reason he broke up with you, making you tear up yet again. you were so weak that you fell asleep just like that, exhausted and heartbroken.

you woke up when you heard the sound of the front door slam shut. you shot up out of bed, making you grow dizzy immediately. you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before forcing yourself out of bed. you took a deep breath before mustering up the strength to walk out to where the noise had come from. you steadied yourself by trailing your hand against the wall as you walked to the living room, growing more and more woozy as you kept going.

“y/n,” changbin said as he saw you turn the corner. “hey, come on, sit here.” he said, noticing your lack of balance and guiding you to the sofa.

“did I forget to pack something?” you asked weakly, leaning your head back as another shiver overtook you.

“no, no. y/n, I didn’t mean any of that last night. it’s stupid but I just wanted to spend time with the boys. I never meant to hurt you,” he gulped. “or break up with you. I’m so sorry, my love,” he said, running a hand against your cheek. “oh my god, baby, you’re burning up.” he said, shocked. he disappeared into the kitchen before rushing back to you.

“hyunjin told me you looked sick when you came by so I brought some hot pear tea and porridge. eat and then take this,” he handed over some cold syrup already measured out for you. “we’ll talk afterwards, okay?” you only hummed in response, making him frown. he could tell you had waited too long to take care of yourself, which meant you didn’t have the energy to do much of anything. he sat down next to you, grabbing the porridge and gathering a spoon of it. “open your mouth, baby. you have to eat if you want to feel better.” you didn’t have it in you to protest, simply doing as he said and letting him feed you. you ate and took your medicine in silence before falling back asleep.

♡♡♡

you woke up hours later in complete darkness and on your bed. you shuffled a little in an attempt to get up, but you soon realized you were weighed down by a familiar arm spread across you and cradling your head against their chest. you gulped, debating whether or not to confront changbin right now or to just indulge in the feeling of comfort he gives you. but the voice that came alive next to you forced you to choose the latter,

“you awake, baby?” he mumbled before resting the back of his hand on your forehead. “your fever broke, thank god.” he sighed a breath of relief, before stretching over to turn the bedside table lamp on.

“thank you for taking care of me,” you said softly, “but I think you should go.” you looked away as you said the words.

“y/n, look at me,” he gently pulled your chin so you could be facing him, “do you really want me to go?” he whispered, vulnerability pouring out with each word.

you stayed silent for a long moment before finally reciprocating his vulnerability. “you broke up with me out of nowhere,” you sighed shakily, looking away from him again so he wouldn’t see your eyes filling with tears, “and then left me to feel heartbroken and alone all of last night and this morning. even if I wanted you to stay, I owe it to myself to ask you to leave, at least.” you said, trying to sound firm in your decision.

changbin stirred out of bed immediately, making a panic spread through you. was he really going to give up on you so easily? you knew he wasn’t the type to simply let go of something (or someone) simply because he was asked to. you were relieved though, when he reached for your hand and lead you to the edge of your bed, making you sit up. he kneeled in front of you, hugging your legs and holding your hand tightly.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you and for leaving you hanging and for not showing up to our first date in a long time for such a stupid reason. but y/n, I love you. so much. even when I say stupid things and make bad decisions and accidentally hurt you, I love you. and I don’t want to live my life with anyone else but you by my side.” he said with full sincerity, squeezing your hand as his eyes glazed over.

your eyes mirrored his, and you could feel your resolve completely shatter as you looked down at him. “god, you’re the worst,” you chuckled incredulously as your eyes glazed over, “but I love you, too. too much for my own good.” you sighed, looking up and smiling a little.

“let me make it up to you?” he asked you sweetly, standing up with his hand still holding yours. you stood up with him, intrigued, “no, baby, you sit down and close your eyes, okay?”

you nodded, shutting your eyes tightly as soon as he asked you to. you heard some shuffling before you felt changbin’s presence in front of you again.

“okay, open your eyes.” he said softly. you’re met with changbin kneeling in front of you once again, this time on one knee and with a ring box in his hand. he opened it and asked the question.

“I was going to wait to do this. I wanted to plan something big and extravagant and make it a whole thing, but now feels so right. because I don’t ever want you to doubt my intentions with you, with this relationship. I want you, for the rest of our lives, y/n. will you marry me?” he asked sheepishly.

you answered yes so quickly you surprised yourself a little, wrapping your arms around changbin with tears, this time, happy ones, pooling in both of your eyes.

“oh, one more thing,” he said, rushing out of the room and coming back with a very obviously homemade cake. it read “sorry...also marry me?” on the top in pink frosting, making you snort in laughter.

“that would’ve been really awkward if I didn’t forgive you for last night, huh?” you chuckled, making changbin nudge you before he joined you in laughter.

hyunjin

after reassuring felix a million times that you were fine, you finally started walking home. you decided to take the long way, wanting to empty your thoughts and enjoy the crisp winter air surrounding you.

your cheeks were still hot from the humiliation you’d faced just a few moments ago and you couldn’t help but replay the moment again and again. how could hyunjin say those things to you? when you regularly adjusted your own schedule to spend quality time with him and his best friends? the more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off.

you scoffed a little to yourself, quietly cursing at hyunjin in your mind when you notice you’re just short of a block away from one of your favorite cafes. it was one you went to a lot to study at before you moved away and closer to the heart of the city. you walked in, silently hoping your old friends that used to work there still do.

“y/n! oh my god, how long has it been? lia, y/n’s here!” your old friend, yeji, yelled across the cafe. in just a few moments, the store was adorned with a closed sign as your friends sat around you with fresh hot chocolates.

“won’t you guys lose business if you close up so early? won’t your boss be mad?” you asked them, sipping the drink in front of you.

“it’s winter break and all the college kids went home, we have no business!” yuna chuckled. “as for the boss, well...”

“you’re looking at her!” yeji announced cheerily. “we have a lot to catch up on, dude.” she giggled.

♡♡♡

you and the girls spent hours chatting, catching each other up on your lives and all the things you’d all been doing. you had completely forgotten about your earlier clash with hyunjin, letting yourself enjoy the company of your friends after so long. you absentmindedly flip your phone over to check the screen, only then noticing the numerous phone calls and texts you’d gotten from hyunjin as well as the others. you excuse yourself, walking away to call felix back first, not wanting to deal with confronting hyunjin right now.

“y/n! are you okay? you never let anyone know whether you’d gotten home safely and hyunjin said you weren’t home when he went to your place. where are you? we were about to call the police! dear god...” he rambled in a panic.

“ah, I’m so sorry lix---I wanted to get some air so I took the long way home and ended up at the cafe across from my old college. all the girls just happened to work tonight so we were catching up.” you explained, apologizing profusely.

“thank god, I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m sure hyunjin’s relieved, it looked like there were two rivers pouring out of his eyes earlier.” he laughed, sighing a breath of relief.

“I...haven’t called him yet.” you said hesitantly.

“y/n! call him now!” he scolded loudly, making you flinch.

“okay, okay! bye.” you grumbled, hanging up promptly. you called hyunjin right after, figuring you should just tell him you were on your way home to talk so he’d stop worrying. he picked up right away.

“are you okay? where are you? I’m so sorry, baby, please tell me you’re not hurt.” hyunjin cried into the phone, making your heart ache a little.

“I’m fine. I’ll be home soon.” you mumbled softly.

“where are you? it’s late, I’ll come to you.” you heard him shuffling.

“it’s okay---”

“y/n, I’m coming. where are you, love?” he said gently, sniffling a little.

“at the cafe across from my old college.” you said meekly.

“the one we had our first date at?” you could hear the fond smile spreading across his face at the memory.

“yeah. see you then.” you said quickly, hanging up abruptly. as much as you wanted to take the walk down memory lane with him, you were still hurt by the way he’d treated you earlier that night, and that hurt wasn’t going to be mended by a simple memory.

“everything alright?” ryujin came over, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“yeah, it was hyunjin,” she looked at you expectantly, knowing there was something more there, “we had a fight. it was one-sided though, all him,” you sighed. “he’s coming to pick me up, though.”

“you live like a 20 minute walk away, right? sit down and spill.” she dragged you back to your seat, quickly letting the others know what was up while you waited.

♡♡♡

“oh my god, I’m gonna kill him!” chaeryeong yelled, getting up from her seat and stomping.

“relax, chaer! they spent the whole evening here without telling him where they were so I’m sure hyunjin got a taste of his own medicine.” yuna chuckled.

“stop,” you whined, “I already feel bad enough.” you pouted at her.

she rolled her eyes before abruptly tapping your shoulder. “your boyfriend’s here.”

you saw him wave through the glass awkwardly. you got up and were immediately engulfed in a hug by all the girls.

“we’re always here for you, y/n. don’t forget to come visit sometimes.” yeji said into the hug, earning a nod from you.

“and I’ll actually kill him if he hurts your feelings again.” chaeryeong mumbled.

you just chuckled, letting them go and waving goodbye before heading out to go home with hyunjin.

“hey.” he said awkwardly. you said nothing, immediately walking in the direction of your home and catching hyunjin off guard. he caught up quickly though (curse his long ass legs) and followed next to you.

“baby, we need to talk.” he sighed.

“I have nothing to say.” you said coldly, still looking straight ahead.

“y/n, I was so worried!” he yelled, exasperated. you both stopped walking, realizing this was going to happen now or never.

“it’s one thing that you hate having me around your friends but what, now I can’t even hang out with my friends, hyunjin? fuck off!” you yelled back. even though you knew you were in the wrong for not letting him know you got home safely, it wasn’t fair, the whole situation wasn’t fair.

“you know that’s not fair y/n!” he said, as if he could read your mind.

“you know what isn’t fair, hyunjin? the fact that I put so much effort into spending this one night out of the month with you and your friends to show you I care about the things and people you love only to have you throw it back in my face and treat me like utter shit in front of them!” your voice broke, making you immediately turn your head so hyunjin wouldn’t see you getting emotional.

he didn’t hesitate at all, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. you didn’t attempt to pull away; you needed the comfort and hyunjin knew what you needed even better than you did.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “would you believe me if I said I was jealous?” he admitted, hiding even further into your neck.

“of what?” you questioned. there was a short pause before you answered for him, “of felix?”

“mhmm” he hummed. he pulled himself off of you and looked at anywhere but you, “I don’t know...I guess I didn’t like that you were telling him everything that was going on in your life before you even told me, you know? I want to be the first person you want to talk to about everything.” he said sheepishly, clearly embarrassed to be saying something so vulnerable.

“hyune, you could’ve just told me that instead of humiliating me in front of your friends.” you said gently, not wanting to make him feel judged.

“I know. and I really am sorry baby, I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you.” he sighed, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers.

“I forgive you. but you do it one more time and we’re over, got it?” you said firmly, making sure he knew you were serious.

“it won’t happen ever again, I swear on my life.” he finally met your eyes to show you his sincerity.

you smiled, reaching your hand out for his. you held each other’s hands and he tucked your intertwined hands in his coat pocket as you continued your walk home, “now you wanna hear what the girls are up to?”

“you know I do.” he grinned.

“well for starters, you’re definitely on chaer’s hit list.”

“w-what?”

#skz angst #skz reactions #skz headcanons #stray kids reactions #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz hyung line #stray kids #skz #bang chan #skz scenarios

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milequaritchsslut · 10 months ago

Text

Yandere!Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader Part 1

Pairing: Yandere!Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Notes: Reader and Abby are in college, living in the dorms.

Genre: Dark

Warnings: manipulation, yandere, degrading, obsession, hitting, swearing, kissing, crying, angst,

Anything you did was perfect to her. To her you were a perfect little angel after all, her pretty little princess. She couldn’t stand not being with you, she made sure to memorize your class schedule. She knew what time you went where, why you went and who you went with. She had it all down to a T, every step you took she already predicted. But she couldn’t let you know that, in fact she was pretty good at hiding it. She didn’t ask you many questions, didn’t talk much about you outside of seeing you. She never really mentioned you in her conversations, even when people asked about you. She just shrugged and gave a plain answer.

Even though the girls who lived around her made it obvious they wanted her, she didn’t care much. They weren’t worthy of her attention, they were all scum compared to you. She was devoted to you, dreamt about you, thought about you when she ate and drank. No matter where she was, you were on her mind without a doubt. Though it was hard to control herself, she needed some stress relief once in awhile. So she’d hit up one of those girls once every few months, and when she got what she wanted she dropped them. She didn’t need the dead weight holding her down, every path she took led straight back to you anyways. Every step she took was in your direction, no matter where she went. It was like you two were meant to be or something.

You didn’t really think she liked you, she was a known player matter of fact. So why would she like a plain Jane like you? Maybe she did like you, but only to dip right after. It was hard for you to try and understand her feelings towards you. She was so hard to read, cause she acted the same with every other girl she’s been with. But you enjoyed your weekly study sessions, and you liked your get togethers every week she planned. You didn’t really notice the prolonged touches she gave you, or when her hand would “slip” and accidentally grope you every once in awhile. Cause she always begged for forgiveness after, murmuring sweet apologies into your ears. Her sweet tone always swirling and twirling you every which way every time. But you never really knew what to say after, your tongue dancing behind your lips but never uttering a word to her unfortunately.

You and abby had planned to hit up a local frat party this weekend, you had suggested to go out and do something different this weekend rather than hiding away in your dorm room. You were sitting at your desk and curling your eyelashes, your roommate yapping on the phone with her friend. You had on a pink tank top with black Nike flare leggings hugging your thighs. Abby was supposed to meet you outside of your dorms outside, you glanced at the time on your phone and realized you had to be downstairs in 4 minutes. You quickly finished your makeup, packed everything back up and grabbed what you needed before walking out the door.

Abby was waiting outside, scrolling mindlessly on her phone before she heard your sweet voice calling her name. She threw her phone in her pocket and walked towards you as the wind blew through her long brunette hair.

“Heyy y/n…” she voiced to you, her eyes taking in your body. She smirked slightly as she saw your tight outfit, hugging your hips nicely.

“Hii” you replied back, a smile on your face as I looked up at her intently. As soon as she got close enough, her arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer as you two started to walk.

“You look good baby” she sneered down at you, copping a quick feel at your bottom before letting go.

“Hey!” You giggled out as you slapped her hand away and smiled up at her playfully.

“Ok ok sorryyy” she giggled back as you two made your way to the party.

—

When you two made it to the front door, you reached to knock before she pulled you back harshly and knocked herself. She held you close to her as you two waited for the door to open, your grip tightening around your waist. A tall guy around the same age as you both answered the door without a shirt on, the loud buzzing and booming of the party inside filling your ears as he looked down at you.

“Abby?” He asked, his eyes narrowing trying to put her face together. You saw the cup of alcohol in his hand, as he leaned on the frame of the door while his mouth hung open obviously absolutely wasted.

“Hey man” she chuckled, dabbing him up and walking into the party with you by her side. The guy stepped away and closed the door behind you, and walked away before yelling out somebody’s else’s name.

The second you walked in the music hit your ears, raving and bashing into your canal as the speakers rang through your ears. Your eyes darted around the room, watching everyone converse and touch one another like nobody else was watching. Abby looked around the room and scoffed at everyone. All in tight little skimpy outfits, the girls all whoring around as usual. It was disgusting to her, everyone feeling up whoever they wanted to. The stench of alcohol hit her senses right away, her face grimacing in disgust. But she washed away that expression off her face right away, her normal fun loving smile replacing it. Her facade she made for you dropped for just a second, but she brought it back right away. Her pearly white canines showing off in her smile, as she smiled down at your unsuspecting delusional form.

“You wanna get a drink?” She asked, pulling you forward and towards the drink table.

“O-oh uhm sure” you replied, surprised from the sudden yank from her. Your feet quickly finding their balance again and following behind her tall physique. You watched as her muscles rippled in her shirt, the shirt hugging her body tightly. Her muscles looked like they were gonna rip through it any second, the veins in her arms and hands pulsating throughout her body and pulling you tightly.

—

The room was spinning around you, you had lost Abby about an hour ago. You ran off to the basement awhile ago, your mind was buzzing from how much you’ve drank already. Stumbling and bumping into random things as you climbed up the basement stairs, desperately clinging onto the handles along the staircase. You giggled to yourself at the thought of Abby being worried about where you were, a small hiccup falling from your lips as I smiled and giggled to yourself. You hadn’t planned on drinking this much, but you couldn’t really tell the difference between the bottles. So you just poured random amounts of random drinks into yours, and gulped it down in seconds. Once you finally got up the steps, you let a loud sigh. Relieved you finally made it to the main floor after what seemed an eternity.

You quickly looked up and started to roam around the house for Abby, pushing past random people and squeezing through groups of strangers. You walked upstairs and roamed the hallways, looking in the rooms and in the bathrooms. But you still couldn’t find her, you stopped at the last room and walked in and glanced quickly at the window before seeing a familiar face through it. Your eyes narrowed as you rubbed them and walked closer to the window, your eyes widened abruptly. You watched another girl groping and kissing Abby Anderson, YOUR Abby Anderson. You rubbed your eyes again to try and get rid of the thought, but it wasn’t a thought. It was the reality of it all, Abby was with another girl. Your heart sank as you watched Abby kiss her right back, you watched as her hands groped that girls butt just like she did to you. You didn’t feel special anymore, did she really touch every girl the same way? Did her touch feel the same to every girl she spent the night with, was it really just a relapsed scene she took part in? The heat in your body rises drastically as your throat dried up. You couldn’t pull yourself away from the scene in front of you, it was like you were stuck on a loop. Your eyes watering as you gripped the windowsill tightly, nails digging into the wood. You let out a sharp exhale, tears finally falling from your eyes. Clouding your vision and drowning yourself in your own sorrows.

The sadness seemed to eat and tear away at your heart little by little, ripping the ribs protecting it. Pulling and prodding it’s way in like a disease, ripping your chest open and taking what it wanted. The tears just kept falling, but no sound came out. But you didn’t really understand why this hit so hard, you knew she was a hoe. You knew she did whatever she wanted, because you guys weren’t together. She wasn’t yours, and she never has been.

You were finally able to pull your gaze away from the scene, you let a calm breath. You sat up and looked away as you wiped your tears. You could feel something different simmering inside you, it was hot and heavy. Your fists balling up tightly, you looked back down at her as you watched in disgust as she gripped and rubbed against that girl. You rushed out of the room and downstairs, pushing and weaving people out of your way. You scoffed to yourself as a million thoughts raced through your mind. You rushed outside, your eyes glaring her down.

Abby noticed you eventually and ripped herself away from the girl, she didn’t know what she was doing. It was like that glare from you sobered her up and pierced right through her. She watched as you stormed towards her, a small smirk gliding across her lips. She’d been waited for this, though she didn’t plan for this to happen. Everything was quickly coming together, you’d walk up to her throw a few insults at her face. But she’d quickly calm you down, hold you in place and you’d melt right away.

It wasn’t hard for her to understand your stupid little brain. The way you walked and talked and carried yourself was so easy for her to see what you were, a fucking idiot. She watched as your big girl emotions ate you up inside and spit you right back out. She was amused by the look on your face, the way your features were all scrunched up in fury as you stared her down. Your dumb little brain couldn’t even comprehend what she was on, the wavelength you two were on were eons apart.

“Hey hey…” she cooed from above you, her hands finding yours before you could hit her. She pulled you closer as her large hands intertwining with yours, they were cold but soft. They ran a chill up your spine as you were caught off guard by her calm demeanor, she pulled you in and held you close to her.

You looked up at her as she stared down at you, you couldn’t see what she was doing. Your eyes could only see what was on the outside unfortunately, you couldn’t see the way her eyes gleamed with a predatory glare. You couldn’t understand how her eyes ate you alive, her gaze consuming you slowly.

“N-no you can’t j-“ you yelled at her angrily before you felt her arms wrap around your waist and her face nuzzle into her neck.

You let out a small whimper of surprise as she hugged you tightly, her warm breath hitting your neck as she consumed you. You could feel your heartbeat slow, that hot feeling was gone. Replaced by a lighter and softer feeling growing in your core. It was a good feeling, you let your shoulders relaxed as you felt her lips against her neck.

“You ok?” She asked softly pulling away as she looked down at you, her thumbs rubbing against your waist soothingly. Her voice was so soft and comforting, you felt like you were on a cloud. She’d never been this touchy with you, her touch seemed so kind and innocent.

You looked up at her, your mind thinking a million thoughts at once as you tried to come up with an answer. Your voice caught in your throat as you froze up a little, your mouth left agape.

She smirked down at you and pulled you closer to her so your head was against her chest. Her hand found your head and brushed your hair comfortingly. Her veiny hands skimming through your silky hair, her touch sweet and kind as she held you tightly. Your arms slowly found her waist as tears began forming in your eyes again and your face scrunched up in sorrow. This felt so good, you’ve wanted this for so long. You’ve dreamt about her holding you like this, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“You wanna go home?” She asked sweetly, her hands finding yours and walking out of the yard.

You nodded your head slowly as you looked at the ground and stayed close to her, your grip tight around her hand.

—

Part 2 coming next week!

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows

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iomoru · 1 month ago

Note

Helloooo ^.^ I'm not sure if you've done this before, but could you write Albedo, Kazuha, and Heizou(seperate) with a reader whose main love language is physical affection?

(Thank you for writing my first request ^o^ + I hope you're doing well)

- Mercury anon

Whispers of Affection

A/n: ackk! Your very welcome mercury anon (◍•ᴗ•◍)!, I apologize for my late answer tho bc I got really busy with school work and I forgot to do it last night-

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Touchy! Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Chars: Albedo, Kazuha, Heizou

Summary: In a world of adventure, you find warmth in simple moments of physical affection. Whether through gentle embraces or playful gestures, each encounter deepens your bond and reminds you that love thrives in the smallest ways.

Albedo:

The cool mountain air of Dragonspine nipped at your skin as you watched Albedo work on his latest alchemical experiment. His hands moved skillfully, carefully adding ingredients to a bubbling flask. You admired his focus, his sharp eyes narrowed in concentration. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice how long it had been since he even glanced your way.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the need for warmth—and something more. Taking a breath, you approached Albedo and quietly slipped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your cheek against his back. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he recognized your touch.

“[Name],” Albedo said softly, his voice gentle. He didn’t turn around, but one hand reached down to brush against your arm. “You know, you shouldn’t be this close to my experiments.”

“I just missed you,” you mumbled against his coat, the scent of pine and alchemical materials filling your senses.

Albedo’s lips curled into a small smile. “Missed me, did you?” he asked, setting down his materials and turning in your embrace to face you. His gaze softened as he looked at you. “You could have said so. I’ve been so caught up in work I must have neglected you.”

You nodded, and he pulled you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. “You’re always so focused, but I like it when you take breaks.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I’ll be sure to take more breaks then, if it means spending them with you.” His hand came up to gently stroke your hair. “I can’t deny I enjoy this too.”

You sighed contentedly, the warmth of his embrace more than enough to ward off the cold. Even when words weren’t said, being close to him was all you needed.

Kazuha:

The breeze was gentle today, a soft wind playing with your hair as you walked side by side with Kazuha along the cliffs of Liyue. He’d been lost in his thoughts, watching the clouds roll by and listening to the leaves rustling in the distance. You admired how calm he always seemed, like a leaf floating effortlessly on the wind.

But today, you felt a little restless. You glanced at him and smiled, a sudden urge bubbling up inside you. Before he could react, you linked your arm through his and leaned your head on his shoulder. Kazuha blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly at you.

“Feeling affectionate today?” he asked, his tone light and teasing.

“Just wanted to be close,” you replied, squeezing his arm gently.

Kazuha chuckled, the sound soft and comforting. He adjusted his stance slightly to accommodate your weight on his shoulder, his hand brushing against yours as he held your arm more securely. “I don’t mind at all,” he said. “Your presence is like a calming breeze, always soothing.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Kazuha always knew how to make you feel cherished, even in the simplest of moments. He lifted his free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and affectionate.

“There’s something special about the way you express yourself,” Kazuha murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every touch feels like a conversation, and I can’t help but listen.”

You hummed softly, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the quiet moment between the two of you. The sound of the wind and the warmth of his presence made everything feel right in the world.

Heizou:

You sat on the edge of a fountain in Ritou, watching as Heizou chatted animatedly with a merchant. His bright eyes sparkled with curiosity as he questioned the man, digging for clues on some mystery or another. You couldn’t help but smile at how engaged he was, even though the conversation had nothing to do with the two of you.

When Heizou finally turned back to you, his expression shifted from inquisitive to playful. “Were you getting bored waiting for me, [Name]?” he asked, crossing the distance between you in a few quick strides.

“I wasn’t bored,” you replied with a grin. “But I might be a little attention-deprived.”

Heizou raised an eyebrow, smirking as he stood in front of you. “Oh? Is that so?”

Without another word, you tugged him closer by his arm and wrapped your hands around his waist, pulling him down into an embrace. He stumbled slightly but quickly regained his balance, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders in return.

“You’re really bold today,” Heizou said, his voice warm with affection. “Not that I’m complaining. I guess I have been a little distracted lately.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “You always get lost in your work.”

Heizou smiled and tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “And you always know how to bring me back,” he said softly. “You’re my anchor, you know that?”

You blushed slightly but didn’t let go, instead tightening your arms around him. “I just like being close to you,” you admitted.

“I like it too,” he replied, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make sure to give you more of my attention from now on. I don’t want you feeling neglected.”

You smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell with warmth. Heizou’s arms tightened around you, and for a moment, everything else faded away. All that mattered was being in each other’s embrace.

A/n: I hope you liked this! (≧∇≦)/

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tojisun · 1 year ago

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going feral for toxic!biker!simon or dbf!biker!simon grrrgrrrawrarrara

hhhhhehehe im going feral too omggg!!! and im sorry for how late i replied to this 😭 i was spiralling when i saw it and i couldn’t contain the desire i have for this man ahhhhhh

this got too long (and dark) and i made simon an ass so im sorry! i was hit with a writing bug and i never looked back

!! brief smut - minors dni; age gap (40s vs 20s); dad’s best friend!simon; power imbalance; toxic relationship // biker!simon mlist

the attraction had been one-sided, you know that, so you wonder why simon's come to reciprocating your affections like this – spoiling you in front of his friends, the ones that you know he kept separate from his and your dad’s usual circle, and lovingly calling you his.

simon sent you the message at three in the morning, when you were still asleep, and it read: I’m picking you up tonight. Dress cutely, you’re meeting friends.

you replied back, asking him what he meant or even where you two were going, but simon had gone back to giving you radio silence, pretending that your messages aren’t coming in. your heart broke but it wasn't like it was anything new – simon offered pieces of himself to you, sometimes as a reward and sometimes as an apology, and you always foolishly thanked him.

then when you ask for more, he pulls away, giving you silence and letting you stew in his sudden detachment. so really, it shouldn't have been a surprise to you anymore. still, you laid on your bed, blinking up at the ceiling as you tried not to drown in the weight of your sorrow.

which is why this is new. unusual, even for simon.

he picked you up from your dorms just like he said, although you were surprised to see him roll in on his bike. he never let you on his bike, always choosing his car when picking you up. you fooled yourself into thinking it was for your safety, that it was for your own good, but you've seen simon bring dates on his bike.

you've seen how he's always brought extra helmets for the pretty dolls he proudly flaunted around whenever your parents invited friends for parties and dinners, possessive arm curled around their waist like he wants to brand his claim on them. or how he's always ignored you when they're around, his attention so sinfully glued to his dates like a man starved of affection. or how he'll sit back and watch as they pat your head and pinch your cheeks because, “well, aren't you a sweetheart?”

simon's bikes are reserved for the people he brings home. people he fucks. so it was never extended towards you. never something you had the privilege to, until tonight apparently.

“simon?” you asked, hesitating to climb up behind him.

simon grunted, twisting until he could see you and you watch yourself from the visor – wide eyes and tensed shoulders – as simon tipped his head down just enough to study the way your pretty dress fluttered as the wind blew. you did not hear it but you've seen the way his chest moved as he sighed. instantly, you felt like a bother, and you curled further into yourself as though it could hide you from his knowing eyes.

he lifted himself from his bike before turning to walk towards you. you averted your eyes from him even though his visor was still up – yet another wall that kept you away from him – before seeing scuffed boots stop just in front of you.

“look up f'r me, kid.”

you did as he told, your eyes flicking up and peering through your lashes. simon's still helmeted, still distancing himself from you, and you wondered what sick power play was he trying to accomplish.

you twisted your fingers together, waiting, obedient – just like how he wants them – even when you simmered in the heavy silence, until simon began to strip his jacket off.

you felt lightheaded, your throat parched with a sudden thirst at seeing the inked arms you have been shamefully daydreaming about. he has a new tattoo, you realized as you trailed curious glances over the fresh ink but not able to properly see it for what it was.

simon huffed a laugh and you startled, blinking up at him again only to realize that he's moved so close – closer than what he's ever allowed before. you stammered on your words, glossy lips parting in surprise, but simon remained unmoved by your clear interest and began to tie his jacket around your waist in silence, tucking your skirt underneath and securing the sleeves tightly.

“there,” he said, his voice a muffled rumble. “now y'r ready for the ride.”

you trembled at the sinking reality; that what had been daydreams and wishful thinking were now laid before you. you bit your lip to stop a sniffle because there simon was, holding your hand throughout as he hefted you on his bike. you felt overwhelmed with the intensity of your affections, trailing your eyes away from him again when he fixed a spare helmet on your head. you jolt when he snapped the visor down, and simon laughed, a pretty muffled sound.

you watched as he climbed in front of you, shaking hands unsure as they held onto his hips. simon, of course, noticed.

“y've gotta hold on tighter, sweet girl,” he said before tugging at your hands and wrapping them around himself. you bit down a broken squeal, feeling jumpy now that you're actually touching him. the purr of his engine blanketed your spiralling thoughts and you held him tighter when he drove off.

“why, aren't you a bonnie lass?” johnny, the one who had been too excited at meeting you, says before snorting when it makes simon wrap his arm around you tighter, pulling you ever so closer to him. “and big man's too possessive, isn't he?”

simon grunts from beside you, taking over when you continued to blink at him in shocked silence. “well, y'said it already, johnny.” you freeze when you feel his lips press on the top of your head. “my girl's too pretty, it's making me greedy.”

your breath hitches, your fingers twitching in phantom desire to fist at your dress if only to ground yourself. my girl, simon said, the lies slipping past his lips easily. my girl, he told his friends as though it is the truth. as though you could ever be.

simon’s hand glides down to your hips, squeezing the flesh, and it makes you squeak. both him and johnny croon, flashing matching grins at each other like you’re not there, while simon’s other friends – kyle, the youngest, and john, the one with a storm hidden in his eyes – snicker to each other.

“little mousy, isn’t she?” john asks, the rumble of his voice stark even amidst the booming music filling up the packed space of the bar.

simon hums, still caressing your hip, his hand occasionally dipping towards the side of your thigh, teasing the hems of your dress, before tugging upwards again.

“she is and it’s endearin’,” simon replies, still continuing the facade. because what else could it be?

simon had given you bits of his attention, entertaining you just enough that you keep running after him and chasing the softness you know he has, but he’s never given more. not an honest touch nor a whisper of affection.

so this – whatever this is – makes you tremble. it makes you ache.

you cross your legs together, squeezing just enough to put pressure in your throbbing core. the action was smooth, almost unnoticeable, and it should’ve been, but simon’s trained eyes catch the movement anyway.

he lets out a quiet groan, the sound bundled around a tinge of pleasure as he presses his lips on the top of your head again. you gasp at having been caught, bright eyes flicking up to see if his friends had noticed but johnny’s body is already turned towards a pretty brunette and kyle is tapping on his phone and-

oh.

john’s eyes are on you.

there is a moment when you are reduced to cold dread and static, lost in the smoke hidden within john’s eyes and simon’s possessive touch, before the band snaps and by then, you are on your feet. the action causes the empty beer bottles to clatter against the table which snag the attention of johnny and kyle, but you ignore them all as you sidle away from simon’s side, batting away his outstretched hand, before bolting towards the washroom.

you feel like a fool. like a doll made to entertain their sick and twisted games because that is what it is, isn’t it? simon got too bored with his dates and decided to string you along – someone easy. someone desperate for all he can give.

your eyes blur as tears pool and you barely make it to the bathroom when a hand curls around your wrist, yanking you away from the door.

“kid, stop-”

“no!” you scream, whirling around to look at simon. big and beautiful and not-yours simon. “i’m tired of playing your sick games, si. get away from me!” you try to shake him off even though you know it is futile.

simon continues to stare down at you, his lips pinched in disappointment – a look you are too familiar with.

and it’s that which makes you cry, a broken sob ripping from your throat and into the space between you two. you had hoped at least that the loud bass booming across the bar could drown it out, but you hear your whimper ring amidst the noise. jesus.

simon continues staring. continues to be silent. you don’t know how much more of this you can take.

(more. gods, you can take more as long as he allows you. as long as he is in your life. you know whatever this is between you and simon have long sizzled into something toxic. something codependent. but you need him, no matter how twisted he’s become because simon indulges you, anyway.

you remember the quickies in the bathrooms. the rumble of, “y’r doin’ so good f’r me, sweet girl,” whispered on the top of your head as he fucks his fingers into you. the marking, the nipping. the praises. the growled, “y’r only mine, aren’t you, pretty?” when he licks along your slit.

simon gives in a way that teases the yawning in your soul. in a way that carves more of himself into your very being. so how could you let go? how could you move on?)

simon tugs you towards him and you follow on unsteady feet. he wraps you in his arms, his lips falling onto your forehead. he breathes you in and you crumble, nuzzling your face into his scent – leather and ozone and forest.

“let’s get you home, yeah?” he asks.

you sniffle. “can i come home with you today?”

and simon stays silent, backing away just enough to tug you out of the bar and towards his bike. your lips wobble but you do not ask again, not when you know you can’t come back with him to his place.

the cold wind isn’t all that makes you tremble.

RUNNING AWAY WHOOP WHOOP!! update: it’s now edited <33 yippeee

#suns.f #dbf!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley smut #anon #ask #suns

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yuoimia · 1 year ago

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DAY 3: IT’S JUST THE TWO OF US ❅⋆⍋

summary: a cozy vacation spent in another nation

characters: neuvillette, xiao, baizhu, wanderer, ayato, kaeya, childe, lyney, albedo, zhongli, wriothesley, venti, diluc, alhaitham, kazuha.

notes: locations handpicked by me!! these are general days in another nation, you’re not really doing anything too exhilarating, total wc: 1.8k.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

mondstadt, starfell lake - neuvillette, xiao, baizhu

Breezy and wide plains on the tops of jagged mountains, carrying a sweet breeze of berries and dandelions. Mondstadt, the nation of freedom, stole the hearts of numerous travelers, with its homely and cozy atmosphere, frolicking the winds all around Teyvat and coaxing the interest of many.

It was Mondstadt’s virtue that first drew him in. Freedom, peace, and comfort, the only things he has ever hoped, wished, yearned with every fibre of his being. Mondstadt sounded like a long-awaited exhalation of air, to finally breathe in a new breath of fresh opportunities and beginnings.

The earliest beams of sunshine crept through the sheer curtains.

If it were any other day, you’d let out a vexed groan before rolling to the other side. But today, today was another day in Mondstadt, and you’d be stupid to let any of the time go to waste.

Shoving the curtains aside, you observe in awe as Starfell Lakes glimmers like a pool of sapphire diamonds or like a flutter of fairies, their pixiedust sprinkling a bit of happiness into your day.

“It really is so beautiful here.”

The abrupt voice startles you for a split second. “Don’t creep up on me like that,” faux disappointment lacing your voice. He mutters a quiet apology before letting out a faint smile, interchangeably switching his gaze from you to the lake.

“Should we go outside?”

You nod in agreement, the excitement rejuvenating you even further. “If it’s this spectacular from afar, can you imagine how majestic it must be up close?”

“Very majestic,” he repeats, leading you both out the door.

liyue, jueyun karst - wanderer, ayato, kaeya

Dizzying peaks and swirling mists convey an atmosphere of grandeur and mystique, alluring visitors and their fascination towards the beauty of Jueyun Karst, rumoured to be the abode of the adepti, typically unreachable by mortals. Yet, there was always an abundance of people willing to test their luck and willpower, returning to tell dramatic tales of exaggerated perils and glory. Even so, there were still facts that none could deny about the quiet abode, namely, the distinctive tranquility fusing within its clouds.

It’s truly hard to believe that you weren’t a figure in a watercolor painting. Soft brushes of orange, yellow, and green leaves dance in the chilly breeze. The sound of approaching footsteps quickly snaps you out of your afternoon reverie as you turn your head towards a familiar face.

He greets you with an unsually innocent, lighthearted wave, accompanied with an intriguing wrapped basket. It doesn’t take much to piece together the pieces and present an overall message, not that he tried very hard to conceal it. Perhaps this vacation has muddled up parts of his cognitive functions.

“How are you feeling?” he inquires, the question evoking some sort of suspicion within you. “Hungry? Bored?” he continues, appearing oblivious to your raised eyebrows.

“…both?” you reply, a little confused and hesitant. “I won’t say no to some lunch.”

“Perfect, I found just the place.”

inazuma, chinju forest & grand narukami shrine - childe, lyney, albedo

Luminous flowers hidden deep in the forests, fragrant cherry blossoms lining the streets of Inazuma—the diverse variation of natural features that Inazuma beholds captivates the interest of those seeking something different, a thirst for something that simply cannot be found anywhere else.

Chinju forest, a secluded area of glowing streams and blooms, far enough from the attention of the city, and close enough to the allure of the grand shrines, a more than ideal option.

In the space of Chinju Forest, day was like night, and night was like day. There was really no hourglass here, where time ambled, the grains of sand dripping one at a time. It unlocked a rare sense of bliss, where no-one was obliged to be anything or do anything.

Despite the strong desire to explore the all-imposing Grand Narukami Shrine, the sheer amount of the flight of stairs that you needed to overcome was already giving you second thoughts.

“…Please don’t tell me…there’s more,” he groans, almost succumbing to his knees and screaming up at the sky. “How many stairs do you think we’ve walked up so far? I’ll say at least two hundred, maybe even two fifty.”

No words leave your mouth; there’s none in your head either; all you feel is a growing agonising pain in your calves and thighs. Short, tired pants take turns exiting your body, and you glance up at the new set of stairs—hopefully the last.

“Yeah, me too,” he replies, nodding understandingly as he recovers and hands you a bottle of chilled water. “Take your time, this is going to be a long one.”

After about ten minutes, you both set off again. To your utter confusion, he seems so energised, sprouting encouraging comments in the midst of silence. You’re thankful for the cheers of reassurance, but all that’s needed is a good night's rest under those glowing flowers and twinkling fireflies.

You don’t even realise for a good minute that you’ve reached the top. The sweat pooling along your clothes is an indicator of your mood—exhausted and sore all over.

Your name rings over the few other people gathered at the shrine as he eagerly hands you a fortune slip.

“Read it out loud; apparently it’s quite accurate.”

Modest Fortune: Clouds cover half the moon and the fog is thick.

Above you is the mood shrouded by cloud. Ahead of you, everything is engulfed by fog.

Though the way ahead seems unclear at the moment, all will become clear when the time comes.

Take this opportunity to improve yourself while waiting for the clouds to clear.

You’re not sure how to feel.

sumeru, port ormos - zhongli, wriothesley, venti

Port Ormos holds everything.

Marketing secrets, priceless treasures, and an aromatic scent of homemade dishes crafted with exotic spices and herbs, carrying through the refreshing winds of nearby seawater. It’s enticing—everything from the cultural architecture to the species of trees. Despite its prominence throughout Teyvat, it’s not as overcrowded as you originally thought it to be. Of course, it’s still busy, but everyone mostly keeps to themselves as they go on with their usual lives. At every new turn, you find yourself enamoured by the great variety of stores, keen to explore every inch of them, no matter how unrealistic that goal may appear.

Someone who’s probably more excited about being in the Port Ormos was probably the person trailing by your side. Out of the blue, he’d point and mutter an interesting fact, or occasionally go up to the store owner with a handful of questions, as you stood awkwardly behind him. It’s quite fine by you, though; the several friendships he’s established with owners have brought in handy discounts and bonuses.

“We should try out that new waterside restaurant,” he says one evening as you walk hand-in-hand by the docks, admiring the warm tones of a summer sunset blending together over the borders of clouds. “One of the vendors told me they have a special on Sundays.”

“Ah, a special,” you hum, amused. “Is that what caught your eye?”

“Special things always catch my eye,” he replies, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. “Would you like an example before we enter?”

You arrive at the entrance of the restaurant, and like mentioned, it boasts a stunning view of the clear and pristine waters, lapping at the edge.

There are floral garlands with small lights slithering across the corners of the ceilings, lit with blazing lamps, soft crackles of the flame add to the intimate atmosphere.

“If you insist, then sure,” you answer to his previous question. Your attention is more focused on searching the restaurant for a waiter to call.

“I think they might be standing right beside me.”

fontaine, elynas - diluc, alhaitham, kazuha

The cosmos present themselves in the elegant fashion of being subtle yet imperial, with millions of sparkling stars sprinkling all across Fontaine’s heavens, effortlessly illuminating the world underneath.

The pale streaks of moonlight gleam down onto the cascading waters and the array of flowers and shrubs, casting a magical afterglow that creates a bewitching sense of enchantment, like you were an illustration in an ancient storybook lost as the ages gone by.

Have you ever tried to paint at night? To become a midnight muse?

Cutting through the stillness were the delicate strokes of brushes on a canvas. It’s a smooth and soft sound, as the colours glide and complement each other.

You’re sitting opposite each other, one the muse of another.

With an air of finality, he looks up at you with a satisfied expression on his face as he begins to pack away the paintbrushes and palettes. Whether he’s content with his product is unknown. Nothing about his face or mannerisms convey an emotion, unless if you count the usual peaceful visage.

“Are you close to finishing?” he asks politely as he packs away the last of his equipment. “It’s alright if you haven't; those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get in the right shape.”

He’s right; the intricacies of Fontaine’s environment are undeniably striking and tedious to replicate, from the very details of the petals to the shade of grass.

You add the last few finishing touches before giving it one last, fleeting look.

“I’m finished.”

As you mutter those two words, something stirs in the air. The world suddenly feels so vastly beautiful, and this particular point in time feels so perfectly sacred that it couldn’t have been a mere coincidence, and you know it’s not.

You know that this very moment, this very vacation, this very night—you know that he must’ve planned this all along.

It was so sweet.

“Show me yours,” you suggest, crossing one leg over the other. Everything feels a thousand times more divine; everything feels so much more meaningful that it's imbedded into your head, in your guts; there's a doubt on whether it will ever leave.

“What’s got you so happy all of a sudden?” he asks lightheartedly. “Don’t raise your expectations too high; I can’t be an exception for everything.”

You’re just smiling, beaming up at the glittering stars, forever grateful for all the light they’ve bestowed upon you, because it’s been a while since you’ve last told them thank you.

Their splendour radiates down to your face; iridescent shimmers twinkle in the tears unknowingly sliding down your face.

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #neuvillette x reader #xiao x reader #baizhu x reader #wanderer x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #lyney x reader #albedo x reader #zhongli x reader #wriothesley x reader #venti x reader #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #kazuha x reader #anya writes ✧.*

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semischarmed · 11 months ago

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Thread

Don’t blame me for this one, you guys voted for something diabolical.

= = = = =

The references were esoteric. In fact, I had to hide my true research from the university, under the guise of reclassifying “ritualistic” items. The irony did not escape me. I was actually looking to access a “ritualistic” item that was classified as mundane.

Legends spoke of a god of flesh. One that manipulates the body as one would manipulate clay. Its name has long since been lost to time, but there are echoes of his work in the myths of old. We often hear of a creator god shaping man from the earth, of half-human hybrids and giants and other such peculiarities. Glimpses of this god of flesh. I had only read into such a figure from a blog by happenstance. A miracle of probability.

I eyed the needle, now in my hand. It was unassuming but carried a supernatural weight to it, like the weight of time immemorial. I grinned, practically moaned as I pricked my finger with the needle.

I expected some sort of magical fanfare, maybe a gust of wind but found none. I stared at my hands and then I noticed it. My hands. My flesh. I could feel all of it. I stared intently as I pinched the skin above my finger, I willed the pleat to hold its shape and smiled. I was ready.

- - - -

I thought through the myths, now partial realities in my head. Though I felt myself brim with power, I knew the drawbacks- there had to be a reason the myths had not made it to present day. The answer appeared in my head. There is only so much one man can do, and being giftedoften made one a target. A word echoed in my head. “Protection”. That did seem to match my records. Humans of old would change their flesh to be stronger, more resilient, adapting to every circumstance thrown at them. But the weakness persisted. One prick to channel the same power as the god of flesh, and another prick locks you from that power again. I smiled to myself. I just needed to get… creative.

Joey Cooper was well-known around the college. A fifth year senior majoring in Sport Science. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always meant well. He had an air of confidence to him that often aided his statuesque form. Despite this, something else drew my interest even further. His unattainability. The man was often called by his nickname “old faithful,” having been in a relationship with his girlfriend Britney for as long as any can remember. Guys and girls from all walks of life have tried to tempt “Juicy Joe” (A nickname he wasn’t aware of). None of have succeeded.

And then there was Charlie Cooper, his younger brother, a freshman with the face of an angel. He had unattainability in a different sense. Kind eyes and gentle curly locks framed a face that often wore a worried expression. Unlike his brother, he was timid, and a bit reserved. He had a lack of confidence that seemed to be a hindrance to his social life. Charlie would often shied away from conversation, despite others regularly visiting his dorm. Charlie roomed with Joey in the school dorms, a rarity for this campus. I overheard a conversation with Charlie once on this oddity. Beneath his unintelligible mumbling he mentioned something about being “faithful to Brit” and getting Charlie “out of his shell”.

I bit my lip thinking about the prospects.

— - - - - -

“Oh hey Joey!” I waved casually as I approached a Joey returning to his dorm room, face flush and covered in a sheen. He must have just come from the gym. He was consistent with his workouts, so it was no surprise he would still be in campus after finals to get one last pump in.

“Hey dude! Uh, sorry I don’t remember names to well”. He replied back in a friendly manner. I shook my head at that.

“No need to apologize. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He looked back at me expectantly, hand outstretched to greet. I shook it as I continued. “My name’s gonna be Joey too”. He nodded and smiled politely but the man’s face couldn’t hide his visible confusion.

I clung onto the lack of rejection on Joey’s part as an invitation for myself. As he continued into his room, I followed, allowing the door to close behind us. The silence from the near empty dorm was deafening. He turned around, again making a polite smile. “Uh hey again… Joey… can I help you?”

I dropped all pretense, rushing to his bed and taking a whiff. “Fuck dude, you smell so hot”. Everything in the room carried a small sample of his scent. Like a gentle sweaty musk overlaid with his detergent. I looked to the sweaty Joey, inching closer and taking a whiff of his fresh personal scent. Divine. I felt my jaw unlock in a small moan. His post workout scent was like a concentrate of the pleasant musk I smelled before. Like raw testosterone and shallow breaths, and a hint of earthiness that exuded power. Juicy Joe. I was drunk on the scent, mind transfixed, until I caught him staring. He was starting to get upset.

“Hey bro, you should probably lea-“ He froze as he saw me extend a nerve out of my hand, like a red root outstretched into the air. “The fuck?”

He began stepping back but as soon as my nerve landed on his arm, he struggled back into stillness. I smiled in euphoria as I felt every individual root of my vein burrow into his skin and connect with his. Checkmate. He watched as more and more of my nerve rooted into his flesh, screaming as he felt the violation to his sense of touch.

“No one can hear you bro, it’s after finals, remember?” I twirled the needle in front of him before setting it on the table. “Can’t have you taking a shower and removing your natural cologne”. Joey was still frozen as he saw me begin to undress. Juicy Joe had a body brimming with power, and I knew it would burst at any moment. I took care as I undressed, rooting and unrooting my nerves, and making sure to always keep at least one red thread of control on him at all times.

Joey glared as he saw me finish placing my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. “Your turn”.

“What the fuck dude!? What makes you think-“ He was cut off as the red strings bridging our flesh began to writhe. In turn, he felt his meaty arms begin to move, and pull down his compression shorts. The feeling was altogether unfamiliar, as he felt his own flesh betray him and move to my will. I willed him to hand me the soaked shorts. Even with the power of the god of flesh on my side, I could feel Joey struggling for control through sheer willpower alone. I laughed a little in my head. There are other ways to break a man.

I brought his heavenly scented shorts up to my face, gorging myself on the potent raw musk of man. Like a pungent blast of earth and humidity and testosterone. A Joey-concentrate. I could practically feel the potency of it clawing at my nostrils. A sweat-laden Joey reeked in the best way. I must have been lost in pleasure, because my eyes refocused to his pleading face. “P-please man, just stop whatever this is. What do you want?”

I laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you. I want you. Every part of you.”

A few more nerves shot from my legs, and directly into his. With some new tethers in place, I pulled the threads connecting my arms to his, and quickly slipped under his sweaty workout shirt. I clung to his muscled chest for dear life. ‘Bless these stretchy workout shirts,’ I thought to myself. I felt along the ridges of his spine, across his shoulders which screamed power, and with my hands, I greedily caressed the flesh previously only touched by Britney. I gripped our embrace tighter. Joey was screaming and writhing, soaking the shirt further and my body in his struggle. I moaned as he screamed, as every turn and twist his body made also pushed my chest closer to his, confined by his own workout shirt. I sighed dreamily as his struggle compressed us closer together.

With the power of the needle, I made myself much more malleable and began to slip my arms to into the arm sleeves of his shirt. I spiraled them across his meaty biceps, possessively claiming every square inch of his flesh as my own. I did the same with my legs, wanting to bind us further.

The sight must have been bizarre- two men, naked from the waist down, both in the same sweaty workout shirt. And the smaller man, stretching and wrapping his arms and legs over the other.

“Now for some real fun” I stated, as I shot out as many of my nerves into him as I could. He screamed at the sensory assault as he fell unconscious. I merely continued rooting into him, relishing in being able to feel every inch of Mr. Unattainable. I slowly stumbled our bodies toward his mirror, making sure to have him grab his own phone.

= = = = =

When Joey came to, he saw my head hanging to the side in front of his, and his body enveloped by mine. He panicked when he saw more threads from my face rooted into his neck and mouth. “Fuck Joey, I can feel how strong your lungs are. Even your breaths feel like a top jock” I moaned.

Like raindrops, I felt his tears stream down his cheek and onto my face. “L-Let me go man. Look I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I swear I don’t remember doing anything.”

I laughed callously. “No need to apologize, bro. You haven’t done anything to me. I just want you all to my own.” I brought his phone up to his face so he could see the name on the call screen. Britney.

“Babe?” She answered. “What’s up?”

“H-HEL-“ He tried to holler. Instead, his neck swelled and throat strained as he my red thread began to writhe.

“Joey? Is everything all right?” She asked in a worried tone.

“Fuck yeah it is,” Joey’s mouth laughed, while his eyes showed fear. I continued to use him as my mouth piece. “You’re so boring, Brit. Just called to tell you it’s over.” Tears began to well in his eyes. I could practically hear the tears in Brit’s eyes over the phone.

“Joey… I. Is something wrong? You never call me Brit. I told you how my dad used to…” She trailed, trying to rationalize the situation.

I continued the puppet show as Joey’s eyes continued pleading with me. “Nothing’s wrong, Babe. In fact, it’s finally all right over here.” He stated with a smile. Joey’s eyes winced at the venom spewing from his mouth.

Joey grunted as he tried to stop his free hand from fondling my ass. “Do you know how many girls and guys wanted in these pants, Brit? Do you know how hard is to always turn someone down. They all want a piece of Juicy Joe.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you mentioned it once…” She sniffled. “But I thought we were fine” said a choked up Britney.

“Fuck no this isn’t fine. Look at me. I’m a fucking bull.” Joey was forced to say, while sticking his tongue out. I briefly stopped his hand from groping my cheek to force it into a biceps flex. He tried to squirm his head away but was ultimately forced to lick it and moan. I huffed and whispered in his ear. “I bet you taste fucking salty, Joey.”

“Babe, what’s wrong? You never talk about your body that-“

“Brit, just shut the fuck up”. That seemed to shut her up. “Always fucking whining too…” I made Joey huff. The upper half of his head was sobbing now. I forced his free hand back over my ass, and used his other hand to set the call to speaker. “It’s over”.

Joey dropped the phone on the table- still mid call, as I willed his other hand to cup my other cheek. Squeeze. “Fffuuuuck” I moaned. “You’re fucking mine, Joe.” Like his musculature, I commanded my cock into a malleable state, snaking over his, encircling it like a fleshy sleeve. Then, all at once, my red threads of control stirred, as Joey fucked his thick jock dick into my makeshift cocksleeve. “I’m fucking yours”. I made him say. My eyes fluttered in drunken bliss.

“Joey- who is that?”

I felt his head struggle as he tried to stop his body from growing hard. At this, I made sure he had full control of his cock. His plump ass cheeks tightened as his body was forced to thrust into me. I saw him wince, but we both felt the change. Even without me controlling it, his cock stirred to life.

I willed my flesh puppet to answer. “Oh, him? I’ve been fucking him during this call, Brit. That’s how boring you are. Stupid too- we’ve been fucking for months and you never noticed” I make him say it to his reflection as well, topping it with a sleazy grin he never wore. I also made a point to moan, to force him to thrust his hardening dick into me in loud, boisterous grunts. “Fuck. Brit. You. Never. Felt. This. Good”. I make him gasp in between breaths.

“So you’re fucking him, right now?” She asked, now turning to anger.

“Mmph… YES” I let him shout, as I tightened my fleshy trap around his engorged dick and milk his seed dry. To add to the injury, I released control of his mouth at the same time, so in that moment, he felt himself scream bloody pleasure and coat my flesh in his juices.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD TO ME,” Britney shouts, before hanging up.

Perhaps it was due to the pleasure, or the bombardment of his senses, or the sheer perversion of the situation, but Joey’s eyes rolled back to its whites and his head slumped into my shoulder.

I basked in the moment, coated in the sweat and baby batter of Mr. Unattainable. Breathing in sync with his unconscious form. With his head still slung forward, I willed his upright form to give my ass another squeeze. “Take me, bro. I’m your fucking meat puppet. Feel me. Use me. These muscles, this body. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” I make Joey say. Mr. Unattainable wholly mine.

I kept him upright, facing the mirror without a care for how sore his post-workout body already was. I made sure he stirred awake, to still see himself playing and groping my fleshy form, bonded together supernaturally by the god of meat. He sobbed silently at our union.

With Joey whimpering and broken, I began to retreat into my original form, letting his arms and legs and chest free. All that connected our two naked bodies now was just a single thread of red. But just one thread was all I seemed to need. I no longer felt resistance from his body, as his sullen face just looked to me with defeat.

I made him reiterate my will. “I’m all yours,” Joey mumbles. I puppetted him to close the distance, and pull my back towards his abs. Joey did not resist as body grinded into mine. He clumsily grabbed my head for a sloppy kiss. And once again, I tasted and experienced something only Brit previously had. His tears smeared into my cheek as I started making him kiss me. My eyes fluttered closed as I was in ecstasy. True pleasure. His lips slowly pried mine open, then the tip of his tongue touching mine. In our deranged intimacy, I savored the taste of Joey’s mouth and of his tongue now forced mine. I didn’t want this to end. Joey’s body pulled back from the kiss and began groping itself, repeating his new mantra. “I’m all yours.”

Still repeating his mantra, my eyes locked with his, before he grabbed the needle from the desk and pricked his hand with it. In that instant, I heard the door unlock.

What were the chances? Another miracle of probability. There was a single late final on campus, for an upper div class that freshmen rarely took. And yet, it seemed there was one freshman that did happen to take such a class.

Just my luck.

Charlie.

= = = = =

A two-parter. Could not for the life of me get usable photos of “Joey” in a compression shirt, so you’re gonna have to use a little imagination for that one haha.

#male puppet #male corruption

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